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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

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an (incomplete) list of things kon can do because lex luthor is his dad that people always forget about:

#1 : math - he's fifteen, and math comes easy to him (unlike a lot of people his age, or at least, his visible age.) a lot of things come easy to him, because when you have all knowledge in the known universe downloaded into your brain, things like advanced math don't bother you very much.

but it bothers his friends, because bart loses interest about three seconds into the assignments, cassie groans anytime "homework" is brought up in general, and tim hates the concept and execution of math so much that he'd rather hide in kon's room where he thinks no one will look for him instead of even cracking open a textbook.

but kon's pretty sure being a hero means you don't need any real world skills, and after his initial hesitation and disagreements, he realized that he genuinely wants these people to like him, to be friends with him. their math homework is easier than a breeze to complete.

#2 : tying a tie the ~fancy~ way - he's nineteen, and his fingers flow through a silk tie like a fish through water. the motions are beyond familiar, he could do them in his sleep. so is the action of pulling on a suit, pressing his collar, arranging his hair into a neat style. he's timothy drake-wayne's date tonight, and he needs to look the part. fortunately, luthor taught him how to look the part a long the ago.

the party itself is,,,,pleasant, he supposes. he spends most of the time as arm candy, tim's pretty little thing as his boyfriend sweet-talked investors and networked. but they both know that the tipsier people are, the easier they let slip secrets to someone they believe won't understand them, and kon gathers a wealth of information by the time he meets up with tim by the appetizer bar right before dinner.

tim tugs him close by his tie and kisses his cheek, then laughs when kon discreetly but disgustedly spits out the pickled salmon cracker toppings.

#3 : educated debating - he's sixteen, and in an argument with tim that's gone so off the rails that kon can't even remember what they were fighting about in the first place. wherever they started, they were here, now, kon on top of a table in an ice cream parlour screaming about how a socialist approach to taxes would boost the lower class, tim on top of a barstool screaming right back about how the middle class are the only ones paying taxes and socialism would only put more weight on their shoulders.

both of them are this close to busting out laughing, and the only reason they haven't been thrown out is because the employee behind the counter is frantically taking notes. kon can see it in tim's eyes, see the way the younger boy didn't expect to hold such a passionate and intense debate with him, didn't expect kon to be capable of it. it's a pleasant surprise, though; that much is evident in tim's barely-hidden grin.

the debate comes to a pause when bart smacks him with a spoon and tells him off for stepping on the speedster's ice cream, and the tiredness with which he collapses back into the booth is a good one.

#4 : efficient + effective workplace supervision - he's twenty, and wondering how in the hell people hadn't murdered the entirety of young justice when it was first founded. bart had graduated to being the flash's full time sidekick, and though he came to visit often, it wasn't the same. gotham was almost always on the verge of imminent disaster these days, and tim was one of the few ropes holding it together. kon missed him like crazy, but his few visits were all the boy could spare. cassie was in charge now, and she was a wonderful leader, but busy, always smoothing over relations between the team and the justice league and civilian offices.

so, somehow, that left kon to be the den mother to all the new younger kids, and somehow, kon was good at it. he knew exactly what to say to get people to listen to his commands, telling them to work on this or work on that, train for this and practice that. he tells them when to get some sleep and let the weight of the day roll off their shoulders, and when to push themselves to raise them higher than they ever thought they could go. unexpectedly, he finds himself liking it.

#5 : the splits

#6 : colour schemes + interior decorating - he's twenty-one, and tim's finally deciding to turn the nest into a home. bart, who had spent the last couple of years bouncing between allen-west-mercury households and was therefore accustomed to a home with a fire of love reaching every corner and every member of the family, was appalled. so was kon, honestly.

the penthouse that tim worked out of was cold and impersonal, sleek lines that angles that matched the limbs and contours of tim's body. but the shadows around tim's eyes had lessed over the past few years, his smile coming to his lips almost as easy as when young justice first learned how to work together. all it took was a little encouragement from cassie, and suddenly, all four of them were involved in a home renovation project.

cassie churned out ikea furniture like it was nothing, the three of them taking a break from their jobs to just watch her as she lifted one of their hardwood bookshelves with one hand. bart bought home goods and essentials from various department stores and ran around, stocking the house with them wherever he felt a saucepan needed to be hung (near the coat hanger) or a candle holder needed to be placed (on the kitchen barstools, because apparently those were decorative anyway).

kon, meanwhile, decorated. he painted rooms and bought curtains and pillows, yes. but he also sorted through every single souvenir and memory the four of them had managed to accumulate over the years, photographs and hacked-off pieces of giant robots and saved movie tickets and broken weapons. he gets his hands on everything he can find, then fills up tim's nest until it's brimming with a cosy warmth made up of the four of them.

still, it's an obnoxiously large penthouse, so there's empty and open space left over even after redecorating. it's tim who takes a breath and works up the courage to tell them, not ask but tell them, that he wanted each of them to have their own bedroom. so bart takes the largest guest room and turns it into an explosion of colour, and cassie spends too much time decorating a room that she won't even live in most of the time. kon conspicuously notes how tim doesn't bother giving kon a room, just dumps kon's backpack on his bed and clears room in his own closet. he does wrap tim in a ttk hug though, from all the way across the room, and drinks in tim's red flush.

#7 : speed reading (no powers) - he's seventeen, and just now realizing how competitive his best friends are. cassie had long since resigned herself to being the judge and the hander-outer-of-prizes (candy from the nearest convenience store) for the speed-reading competition, but tim, kon, and bart were still in the running.

eventually, though, the pressure from holding back his powers grew too strong, and bart slumped against the back of the sofa, mournfully opening his mouth so cassie could drop a candy into it.

and then there were two.

kon thought back to the confrontation that had started this contest in the first place, robin's offhand comment about how he had to be the one to collect the data files from the company office they were infiltrating, because he was the only one who could speed-read and retain information. that had spiraled into an argument, then a challenge, then a competition, with a clear rule not to use any powers.

kon darted his eyes across the page, soaking up every word, the pages like tiny knives on the pads of his fingers as he turned them. he lost track of the page count, just reading and reading and reading until he tried to turn the page and realized there wasn't a next one. he yelled in triumph, reveling in tim's defeated groan, and settled in for cassie's quiz on the contents of the book.

#8 : sophisticated meal and wine palette - he was twenty-two, and discovering that he really, really liked tim's shocked face. they'd been friends for years now, childish hatred turned into playful bantering turned into knowing each other inside out. still, every now and then, kon did something that forced tim's eyebrows high on his head, his eyes widening just the barest bit.

right now, kon was at a dinner party with the words moral support written across his forehead. tim could handle himself remarkably well, but there was tiredness lacing the smaller boy's frame, and kon could practically see the way the tips of his soul were frazzled. so kon let tim lean into his arm and whispered jokes about luna-with-the-big-ugly-purse and martonio-who-can't-do-a-combover into his ear. or, at least, he was.

somehow he'd been drawn into a good natured argument with the man sitting just two seats down from tim and kon. friendly opinions of food had been tossed back and forth, growing more and more heated until kon looked him right in the eye and said he liked prosecco with his prosciutto, internally crowing with satisfaction at their shocked silence and sighing with pity that none of the guests here would ever try that combination out of fear of deviation. once the man had regained his sensibilities, he shot back, saying the sixth course should never serve salmon, instead regaling the fish to the amusebouche or the cheese course. kon snorted and told him fish itself was going out of style, and if he wanted to impress guests at the next dinner party he hosted, he should try serving octopus.

tim's shocked face was a pleasant surprise, but seeing the stunned, controlled blinks of everyone around him as they realized he wasn't just a pretty face was satisfying as well. even more satisfying was when he and tim said their goodbyes; while waiting for the valet, tim pressed up onto the tips of his toes and whispered promisingly in kon's ear, i fucking love your competence.

#9 : manipulating people into hating him to justify his actions - he was eighteen, and he was screaming, crying, tearing his hair out. kon didn't know what he had expected. lingering fondness? grudging acceptance? maybe a small leap for a chance at love?

it didn't matter. clark didn't want anything to do with him. and he was eighteen now, which meant clark didn't need to take care of him anymore, didn't need to pretend to pay attention to him anymore. he'd made it quite clear.

maybe that was why he found himself hesitating before saying no to amanda waller's offer. he forgot about the warnings tim gave him, though, and waller pounced on that hesitation, quicker than a panther. it was easy, it was oh so easy to let himself go with her.

besides, they had a reason to hate him now. he hadn't done anything to clark. he hadn't asked to be made. but clark had wanted nothing to do with him anyway, and didn't that sting. so if people were going to turn him away now, it was going to be for something he did.

he didn't realize how bad he was spiraling, how close he was to stepping off the lighted ledge he'd been balancing on his entire life and tumbling into the darkness below. but cassie had a stronger punch than most grown superheroes, and bart had tenaciousness written into every strand of his ginormous hair, and tim gripped his jaw so hard his fingernails dug into kon's skin and told kon that he was getting his best friend back, no matter what the hell he thought he was worth.

maybe it was madness that made him throw himself forward, still wrapped in the lasso cassie borrowed from diana, practically mauling tim's lips with his own. he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to break down crying after he kissed someone, given past experience, but the three of them, his wonderful, wonderful friends, just hugged him tight, let him fight and shake and sob until all the rage was gone. it was the first time in a long while he'd done something in hopes that someone would look at him with love, not hatred.

#10 : waltzing - he was twenty-three, twenty three and giddy with how much time he had left. conner was with tim drake-wayne publicly now, so expectations were thrust onto him, expecting to be met.

kon tended to have more fun at events than tim ever did. granted, kon didn't have to deal with all of his coworkers drinking too much and exchanging money with secrets faster than drugs and asking tim whether or not his relationship meant he was open for still-young and handsome men who needed just a small escape from their wives. but tim wasn't trying very hard to enjoy himself either.

so kon was completely justified in tugging him towards the center of the room, in a patch of floor sparsely occupied, then pulling him as close as he dared. tim's panicked whisper of what!? was overridden by kon's laughter, but he muffled his sounds for a minute, letting tim hear the quiet music playing in the background (prerecorded and playing on speakers, not live).

understanding broke over tim's face, and he arched into kon's hold as easy as breathing. kon moved one of his hands to grip tim's wrist, and he twirled the two of them effortlessly, breathless at tim's flabbergasted expression. the rhythm was simple, and tim caught on quickly. one two three, one two twist, one two three, one two step, one two three, one two switch, one two three, one two three.

kon couldn't say they danced the night away, because a little while later tim took a break for a drink, then speeches were made, then dinner was served. by then, they were both entirely too tired to dance, longing for just a bed and a soft blanket and each other. but for those few minutes in the middle of a packed yet empty ballroom, kon and tim did lose themselves in the music, just a little bit.

i don't know shit about taxes or socialism. this got way longer than anticipated whoops. i'm tagging this "long post," but if someone asks me to put it under a cut, i'd be happy to

also jesus christ this thing is almost 2.5k words. im uploading it to ao3 later if i'm in the mood

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridg @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy

#scribbles from the swamp #kon-el #conner kent #superboy #timkon #core four #dc #kon-el headcanon #kon-el fic #conner kent headcanon #conner kent fic #superboy headcanon #superboy fic #timkon headcanon #timkon fic #core four headcanon #core four fic #dc headcanon #dc fic

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colossal-fallout · 3 years

Text

Mercy ☄

Fem reader X Erwin Smith

Warnings ⚠️

NSFW. 18+ only. Smut. Slight daddy kink and slight degradation.

Tagging: @clovertitan & @jour-de-printemps I know someone is on my veteran tag list, but I've lost it. Please submit it again via the ask box.

You weren't sure exactly what you were doing.

It was as if you were on autopilot; your mind a haze as your heated, desperate body took over - possessed by the succubus demon residing deep within your soul. So much pent up sexual frustration has broken the barrier between your common sense and sheer hysteria. You'd been touch starved for weeks. Your lover far too busy at all times for such interactions. Especially this month with the upcoming expedition. You craved his touch, the firm yet gentle grasping of your flesh and how oh - so - attentive he was to your needs. How he's mapped your body, knowing every single week spot you have an exploiting them with a venomous greed; one nip from his fangs injects you with his own poison, paralysing you with lust.

Yet here you were, tears almost forming in your eyes from how hungry you were for him. For your lover. Who, as you approach the study, is just now behind that solid oak door.

And God, you could go on forever about how magical is cock is. So large and fat, built for nothing but giving pleasure and releasing his own pressures out from his large, testosterone filled sacks. Ones built for impregnation and nothing else. As soon as that large dick pushed its way into you for the first time, you were hooked. The sweetest dose of Heroine known to mankind as his shape dragged against your walls so perfectly, each push of his hips is like a small orgasm within themselves.

And yet... here you were almost a month without him. Your trembling fist ready to alert him of your presence outside of his office. Your thighs squeeze together as your warm, dripping cunt begs to be touched. Your panties stick to you uncomfortably, the thick liquid of your arousal slowly seeping through the cloth as you tap the door with your knuckles.

You don't know if you could take rejection. If he turns you down, you're not sure what you'll do. Scream? Cry? It was anyone's guess. All you know is you don't think you'll survive another night without his knowing invasions of your body.

"Enter."

Even just his low, rumbled voice sends vibrations through the air and between your legs as your breath hitches and you hurriedly enter inside the room.

His head snaps up from his paperwork - as if sensing who it was before locking his orbs onto your form; his thick brows raising in surprise.

"Your name, I wasn't expecting to see you tonight."

Your mouth opens, yet your reply is a choked silence. Asphyxiation entwined your throat as your once well constructed sale's pitch of your body turns to mush at the sight of his large form, the authoritative aura flowing off him and rolling across the room.

You silently close the door, not yet giving up as you approach him, your eyes already watering, begging him for mercy.

He waits patiently, sensing something was obviously wrong.

You crumble. Your plan in smouldering ruins as you slam both hands onto his desk.

"Erwin. I know you're busy. But please... God I need you. Take me. I'm begging you."

He blinks in perplexion for a moment, before his face rests into a smirk. A low chuckle vibrating his broad chest.

"You're that desperate, are you?"

The tone of his voice is a little cold. Cruel even. His own spark of lust igniting behind his ocean blues at the sight of you squirming so needing before him.

Sitting back in his chair, his large legs splay open, the hand that was free from his quill patting his thigh.

"Come. Let daddy make it all better."

Your elation at his words couldn't be hidden as you whimper almost pathetically; scurrying around and straddling his leg, his arm snaking around your lower back and gripping your hip.

"Go right ahead. Use me." He instructs as he refocused on his work.

You didn't care - you were just glad to have something of him; your hands grabbing his leather jacket as you immediately begin to rock your hips against his thigh. The warmth of him seeping up through your material and onto your twitching pussy as you grind, already panting like a bitch in heat. His thick, solid thigh feels so damn good against you, the muscle definition could be felt with easy through the cloth.

Your pleasure builds up pretty quick, your heated face burying into his chest as you whine, knuckles tightening and your breath hitches as his free arm absent mindedly begins to assist your movements.

"Oh, Erwin... Erwin..." you whisper as you glance down and see the buldge in his trousers growing bigger and bigger, snaking down his other thigh.

It's becoming increasingly harder to focus on his work; instead, opting to sit back and enjoy the view of you humping him like a pathetic little dog. Feeling a little pang of mercy, his fingers begin to unbutton your shirt at a painfully slow pace, your entire body aflame and begging to feel his touch.

Eventually he frees your breasts, his large, broad shoulders hunching over as he takes one into his warm mouth - your head throwing back as his wet muscle flicks your nub, sucking and nipping, your rhythm picking up and stuttering.

He removes his mouth, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to you for a moment as he sits back, holding your wrists and pulling your hands onto one of his leather leg straps of his uniform.

"I said use me."

You nod, holding onto the strap like a cruelly place rein on a steed as you use it as leverage to rock harder, his leg slowly raising and lowering you up and down as he watches with a clouded amusement.

"Ah, Erwin... I'm close..." you whine. "P-please, touch me again. Please..."

"You want me that bad, darling?" He sighs, thumbing your nipple.

"Yes!"

Your need for him reaches a critical breaking point.

Without another word, he grabs your hips and lifts you onto the desk with ease - pushing papers onto the floor as if he hadn't just spent all day carefully and meticulously keeping them neat and ordered. His large hand pushes you onto your back and before you could blink, he's pulling off your trousers and soaked panties off your legs - your pussy gleaming, overjoyed he's seeing to your needs.

Taking his two fingers, he slips them into your beckoning entrence, his mouth enclosing onto your clitoris, immediately sucking and assaulting it with his tongue.

Your hands grab at his perfect blonde strands, your climax immediate at his touch. It felt like you were swelling; larger and larger before you imploded.

You weren't sure what left your mouth, but it was something loud - swirling colours and sensations embraced your entirety, your body leaving this world for a few moments as your insides squeeze your lovers digits, filling his palm with a small puddle of your water.

An animalistic growl leaves his vocal chords at the sight of you; a total mess coming undone upon his desk. His tongue rolls over his lip in starvation as he removes himself, fiddling with his trousers and freeing his huge cock.

The smell of his precum snaps your hated attention - you could cry with elation that he was about to push his amazing dick into you.

"Good girl." He mutters as he presses his swollen head against you. "Nice and wet for me."

It's a tight fit as he slowly pushes into you. Your back bends and your mouth hangs into a silent scream as your insides slowly take him, ingesting him like some snake slowly digesting its large prey.

He's not even halfway in as he grunts, fingertips harshly digging into your thighs, head lowering with the overwhelming sensation of you pulling him in.

"You always look so pretty. But you look so much better with me splitting you open like this."

Every single spot within you is being hit, stretched and stimulated as that mystical dick finally is fully in you, pulling and pushing against your internal ridges. The desk begins to clank against the uneven flagstone flooring, but his grunts is all you care to focus on as his hips collide with yours again and again.

"So tight. So perfect, darling. I would never turn you down. All... ah~ all you had to do was ask... I'll gladly see to your needs, my love."

You whimper in response - it's all you can do as his shape pulls and pushes you, dragging along your walls perfectly as usual.

His name leaves your mouth as your eyes roll, the gratifying waves of your second climax faster approaching.

"Where do you want me to finish, darling?" He leans over, sliding his tongue into your mouth for a moment, catching your lips in a tender kiss. "I won't last long this time. You feel too good and it's been too long."

"F-fill me up, Erwin." Your eyes match your pleading tone as he nods, nuzzling into your neck, his tall form covering you with ease.

His pace quickens, hands now on either side of your head as he begins to groan, your orgasm hitting you just as hard as the first - sucking him in deeper. Your walls squeeze so tightly, he's clamped into place, his loud, gruff groan music to your ears as his thick, hot cum collides with your cervix, the huge unloading of Erwin Smith filling you so much so, you're leaking with his mess within moments.

You feel lighter, as if you were floating as you made your way back to your shared quaters, the sweet promise of more later tonight already having you a giddy mess. You were glad you didn't bump into anyone on the way back; your hair a mess and a mark already appearing on your neck. You weren't even sure when he did that.

Once again, you were well and truly fucked into oblivion, your insides sore from his size but already looking forward to later tonight...

#snk #attack on titan #snk imagines #snk season 4 #snk fandom #attack on titan x you #snk headcanons #snk smut #erwin smith #erwin x you #attack on titan erwin #erwin smith smut #snk erwin #erwin x y/n #erwin smut #erwin x fem #snk x reader #aot smut

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reidingmelodies · 3 years

Text

Sugar Rush

Summary: Who knew finding the perfect wedding day dessert was so much work? Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!Reader Category: Fluff Includes: Food consumption, light kissing Word Count: 2.4K

“Did you know the first wedding cake was most likely served in Ancient Greece?” Spencer began, looking down to where you were laying with your head snuggled against his chest. You hummed in interest, moving your hand to meet his where it rested on his lower stomach, intertwining your fingers together. Spencer smiled at the gesture before continuing his spiel, “But one of the earliest mentions of wedding cake originates from Ancient Rome where the cake was actually broken over the bride’s head in the hopes of bringing them good fortune in their life together”.

Your brows furrowed at that, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction. “Well, we certainly won’t be doing that at our wedding,” you giggled, giving his hand a light squeeze.

Flipping your hands over, he brought your hand to his line of sight and admired the engagement ring resting on your ring finger. “Do you want to smash cake in my face after we cut it?”

You thought for a second before shaking your head. “I don’t think so- unless that’s something you want to do? I don’t even get why that’s a thing in the first place, it seems kind of gross”.

Spencer sighed in relief, beyond grateful that wasn’t something you wanted to do. He loved you, and he was more than happy to exchange germs with you in other ways- but throwing cake at each other definitely wasn’t his style. “I’m glad you don’t because I feel the same way. Cutting the wedding cake is traditionally seen as a symbol of a couple’s commitment to each other, and I don’t want to ruin that by throwing cake in your face”.

You smiled, rolling over slightly until your stomach laid against his and propping your head up to look down at him. Spencer hummed in approval at the new position, moving his hand from yours and resting it on your lower waist. “Plus,” you added, “we’re paying way too much for the cake to waste a single drop of it”.

Spencer laughed in agreement, pushing himself up lightly to give you a soft kiss on your lips. “So no cake smash- there’s one part of the great cake debate settled”. You groaned at his words, dropping your head and burrowing your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

“I don’t understand why there’s so many cake flavors to choose from! Honestly, do we even need a cake?” you groaned, voice coming out as no more than a mumble against your fiancé’s neck. Spencer rubbed your back soothingly, before humming in acknowledgement.

“We’ll figure it out, babe,” he reassured you, giving your forehead a quick kiss. “On the bright side, regardless of whether we pick one or not we’ll get to try at least twenty different types of cakes for lunch tomorrow”.

“I’m still not sure if that’s a good thing or not,” you laughed, pushing your upper half up to once again look at his face. “But as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad,” you finished, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss on his lips.

“What a sap,” Spencer jokingly mumbled against your lips, causing you to pull away and playfully roll your eyes at him.

“A sap you decided to spend the rest of your life with,” you countered with a smirk, eyes softening in admiration at the grin that spread across Spencer’s face with your words.

“Best decision I ever made,” Spencer claimed softly, sealing his declaration with a concession of kisses against your lips.

You smiled, threading your fingers through his hair and continuing what you started- leaving the discussion of cakes and all things wedding behind, choosing instead to spend the night entangled with your fiancé, trading kisses and whispered declarations of love well into the evening.

***

The next morning, you sat in the kitchen nursing your cup of coffee while Spencer took a shower before you headed to the bakery. It had been six months of engagement bliss for you and Spencer, and you both found yourself on an impenetrable high for the first three months with no qualms. As far as the two of you were concerned, you were irrevocably in love with each other, full stop. You didn’t know when you wanted to get married, or where, but you knew that you wanted him by your side for the rest of your personal slice of eternity.

Eventually, that answer stopped being met with aw’s from your friends, and instead had been met with playful eyerolls followed by logistical questions regarding the wedding. It became apparent pretty quickly that there wasn’t a where or when anywhere in your plan, but the who, what, and why were pretty clear. And when it came to wedding planning, the last three took the back burner. Who would have thought?

Weekends cuddled up with your fiancé turned into Friday nights spent researching, Saturday afternoons filled with venue tours, and Sunday mornings comparing notes (and somehow, that was always the part that lasted the longest when it came to you and Spencer).

Once the venue was secured, you both became invested in the rest of the details that made your special day unique to the two of you, settling on a lilac color scheme and Save the Dates in the form of bookmarks. Everything settled into place pretty quickly after that, except for the dreaded cake.

There was just too much to it. Between the design, number of layers, and flavors there statistically wasn’t a high probability of pleasing all of your guests much to Spencer’s dismay. And as much as everyone said that the most important thing was that you and Spencer were happy with the cake, the two of you were more than happy with each other, and that’s all you really cared about.

“Ready, Y/N?” Spencer broke you from your train of thought and drew your attention towards him. He smiled, holding a travel mug of coffee in one hand and your car keys in the other, motioning towards the door with his head.

You nodded, taking the keys and heading towards the door with the love of your life in tow, internally cursing yourself for stressing out half as much as you have about a silly cake.

***

Two hours later, and one thing was for sure- you were right to be stressed. The owner of the bakery was one of the sweetest women you’ve ever met (the title of sweetest belonged to Penelope Garcia, hands down), but as welcoming and supportive as she was you still felt like a fish out of water.

You and Spencer were ushered into a room with exactly twenty-three cake samples laid out on tables, accompanied by open portfolios and photos of some of the bakery’s most renowned creations. In the time since your arrival you’ve tasted flavors ranging from lemon raspberry to mocha chocolate and you were exhausted.

You couldn’t help but feel like the universe was punishing you and Spencer for joking around the previous night about how great it would be to eat cake for lunch. You leaned over to tell Spencer just as much, and the exhaustion was almost worth it when you saw his smile illuminate the entirety of his face.

“What happened to ‘as long as you’re with me I’m sure it won’t be too bad’?” he jokingly questioned, booping your nose and giving you a quick kiss on the cheek when he saw the joking glare beginning to form on your face.

“Changed my mind when you called me a sap,” you retorted with a smirk followed by a quick squeeze of his hand so he knew you weren’t serious. Your comment made him laugh, and soon enough you were both in a fit of giggles surrounded by mountains of cake and half looked through portfolios.

As your laughter died down the reality of the situation you were in began to set it. You loved all of the cake you tried, but everything about what you were doing just didn’t feel right. The more you envisioned your cake, the cloudier the picture became. All you knew was that you wanted something that screamed you and Spence, but none of the flavors you tried did that. You sighed, and Spencer immediately perked up, forever in tune to you and your needs.

“What’s going on up there, love?” Spencer tapped the side of your head lightly with his pointer finger, causing the right side of your lip to slightly curl up.

“If I ask you something will you be honest?” you asked, putting your hand on top of his.

Spencer immediately nodded, grasping his fingers with yours and bringing your hand to his lips. “Always”.

“Do you picture any of these cakes at our wedding?” You questioned, bringing the closest portfolio towards you with your free hand and flipping through the first few pages. “They’re all so pretty, but I just don’t think they’re us, ya know?”

It was quiet for a beat longer than you expected, and for a second you were nervous you had somehow offended Spencer. But when you looked up and met his eyes, all you found was his understanding gaze looking back at you.

“I completely get what you mean,” he began, squeezing your hand before continuing his thought, “but Y/N.. do you really think that we’ll ever find a dessert that’s more us than donuts?”

You knew right away that he was joking, but you also couldn’t help but smile at the flood of memories that overtook you once he said it.

As Penelope liked to call your relationship, “the greatest love story of this generation” began just a block south of the bakery you were at over chocolate sprinkled donuts and coffee. It was a Tuesday morning, and you were running a few minutes late in your morning routine. You usually got to the cafe around 8:15, just before the majority of the 9-5 workforce showed up for their morning coffee fix.

That day though, you had missed your usual metro and walked in the door of the café at 8:27 AM. It was overly crowded, and you were already dreading waiting in the overpopulated line for your coffee, but as luck would have it Dr. Spencer Reid had picked that exact morning to treat the BAU to coffee and donuts.

He had walked in the door behind you, smiling in recognition at the book he saw peeking out of your bag. Before he could stop himself, he tapped you on your shoulder, reciting a fact about the author of the book. Almost immediately, his face dropped, worried that you were going to tell him off for being nosy.

To his relief though, you smiled and asked him for his opinion on the book- before you knew it, you both made it to the front of the line, and you found yourself longing for more time with the stranger who seemed to know an infinite amount of fun facts.

As you both waited for your coffee and donuts, you took a leap of faith and asked Spencer if he’d want to meet up for breakfast the next morning. To your delight he agreed, and the rest was history. After three months of sporadic breakfast dates whenever Spencer wasn’t away on a case (mainly consisting of you trying all of the donuts on the café menu and Spencer sticking to chocolate frosted with sprinkles), he took his own leap of faith and asked you out on a date beyond the comforting walls of the café.

As far as you were concerned, donuts were a fundamental part of your love story, and Spencer was a genius.

You smiled at the memory, turning to Spencer and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. He gave you a lovesick grin in response- “what was that for?”

“Have I ever told you you’re the smartest man I know?”

Immediately, Spencer nodded. “Just last week when I told you how many books have been published by Penguin Random House. You also said it the week before when we were talking about polar bears and I-” your laugh caused him to lose focus, all of his attention instead focused on the way your smile lit up your whole face.

“Okay, okay so I call you a genius a lot- sue me,” you countered, giggling with every word that came out of your mouth. “I think you’re onto something with donuts though”.

“Wait, really? I was just kidding,” the confusion was obvious on Spencer’s face, but it was laced with excitement as well and you knew right then and there that he was as hooked on the idea as you were.

“I know you were, but that doesn’t make it any less genius! It’s just so us. And not only that, but think of all the different flavors we can get! That way everyone has a choice over what dessert they have and we don’t need to stress over finding one most people will like. Oh my gosh babe, and Penelope can definitely help us think of a cute way to set them up! Maybe we can do a cake stand or put them out in a buffet style?” You made eye contact with Spencer, eyes widening as you realized you haven’t even asked for his opinion yet. Softly, you brought your ramble to a close, doubt slowly kicking in, “Unless you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

Smiling, Spencer stood from his chair and motioned for you to do the same. Considering the fact that you would do anything he asked you to, you followed suit and he pulled you into his side, planting a kiss to the top of your head. “I think you’re the real genius in this relationship, Y/N”. You giggled at that, and Spencer continued, “it’s an amazing idea. And you and I both know Penelope is gonna love that you thought of her to help us put it together. How about we go to the café and see if they’d be able to help us out, hm? Maybe grab some donuts while we’re there too?”

You nodded enthusiastically, before grimacing at the idea of having another sweet, “We’re gonna have a sugar rush for the next week, Spence”.

“Every day with you is a sugar rush, Y/N,” he quipped, trying to hold back his laughter at the disbelieving look on your face.

You chuckled, leaning in for one of many sugary sweet kisses awaiting you that afternoon before playfully retorting, “And you have the audacity to call me the sap in this relationship.”

***

Link to join my taglist ♡

Tagging: @calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #ash writes

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maxdark158 · 3 years

Text

OOOH two chapters in one week??? damn even i’m jealous. of myself. though this also isn’t edited so i might read it tomorrow morning and regret life, soooo

Angel in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Ao3

Demon in Gotham: Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Ao3

Fanart for AiG: Riddler ~ Joker thank you @thegreysman

Please tag me in any fanart you draw for this guys ^^

oooOOOooo

The large plant in the street wasn’t promising.

Neither was the very loud scream of pain they heard as they arrived to the scene.

Damian might’ve popped some knuckles when he clenched his fists, he wasn’t fully paying attention. What the ever-loving fucking hell in a fuck was Ivy doing? Harley best not be here too or Damian may strangle both of them for coming near his Angel.

Deep fucking breaths I’m going to fucking lose it-

When they arrived, father signaled a quick “to first two follow” plan and he and Grayson went ahead, leaving Damian and Drake on the roof. Damian itched to jump and move forward. The worry was awful, filling his mind with the most unrealistic of thoughts. He tried to correct them, prove them wrong, but they were overwhelming.

What if I check through her window to make sure she’s in there and oka- he didn’t know which room she had and it would take too long.

What if the scream was hers- It was deeper, male sounding.

What if she was crushed under that plant- She wouldn’t be, right? There wasn’t any evidence of someone being under there-

What if she’s hurt? Afraid? Dying?

He heard yelling. Angry yelling, in a male voice. The constricting worry reminded him of every dangerous male villain in Gotham right now. He went through a list of those currently MIA, those who might’ve yelled. It didn’t make sense, no villain sighting was reported aside from Ivy…

But it was possible.

And the possibility made Damian want to puke.

He had to move he had to do something. He jumped down. It hadn’t been enough time yet but he didn’t care. He heard Drake hiss something in warning about Batman’s orders or something Damian didn’t fucking care about, because he had to see for himself. He had to walk in there and he had to make sure she was okay.

Before he could go in, he saw Ivy walk out through the door. What?! he moved to intercept her before seeing the blood going down her leg- What the fucking fuck happened?! Why was she bleeding?

Ivy raised a brow when she saw him. “I got a pass this time, bird. Might want to help them in there.”

The sick feeling returned. He didn’t want to trust a villain, a criminal… but Ivy wasn’t the most horrible.

He eyed the blood, the worried weeds supplying images of his Angel bleeding in the same way. Ivy was not the worst that could happen… His mind went through that handy list of villains again. Many much worse than Ivy.

Damian turned away from Ivy. Father and Grayson shattered the window the plant hadn’t gone through, he made a motion toward it before Drake grabbed his shoulder.

“Let go of me you-“

“If you’re going to disobey Batman, at least let me go with you,” Drake looked exasperated. “You’re focused on your friend, right? Someone needs to watch your ass then.”

Damian glared before prying Drake’s hand off his shoulder. If he wanted to follow, fine. Damian wouldn’t stop him. He went through the broken window and finally entered the hotel.

The vending machine was unplugged and face down on the ground, glass surrounding it. Ivy’s giant plant was in the middle of the room, steam thicker than the pot it previously inhabited and petals as big as the Batmobile’s tires. Other miscellaneous things were strewn across the room, including cut hair near the elevator.

But what had Damian’s heart pounding was the playing cards. Playing cards that were embedded in the walls and the front desk and the floor. Razor sharp playing cards. A certain villain’s playing cards.

Fucking fucking shit fuck bitch ass fuck-

“Father,” Damian’s voice was surprisingly level as he spoke. His eyes landed on the fucking purple suited clown mother fucker himself. “What is Joker doing here?”

Father however seemed to be answering something Grayson must have said, “It appears she was rescuing…”

Ivy was rescuing.

Ivy was helping.

Damian’s eyes scanned the room right as someone else made themselves known.

Marinette!

The air left his lungs. She looked worse for wear, dark circles under her eyes and blood- fucking hell blood on her person. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind, and Damian wanted nothing more than to comfort her. Help her.

He opened his mouth to speak, stepping toward her.

She began to sob.

As if Damian somehow needed to panic even more.

“I’m sorry,” the words were quietly choked out between hics and sobs. “I’m a hor- horrible person and-”

“Hey now,” Grayson took a step closer, trying to comfort her. Damian’s feet were stuck to the floor, the words stuck in his mouth, preventing him from doing the same. “I’m sure you’re not-”

She held up her hands, showing the blood on them. Damian inhaled sharply when he saw the bits of glass embedded into her palm – the green haired fuck hurt her.

“I broke his leg,” she took a big gulp of air. Damian bit back the words and he deserved it. “With a rock. And I threw things at him. A chocolate bar, a cookie, a phone, a lamp, a vending machine-”

“A vending machine?” His father glanced at the vending machine on the ground. Damian didn’t bother trying to decipher his expression, Marinette was turning red and gasping between her sobs. She needed to breathe.

“Miss, please calm down,” Grayson began to step toward her. Damian’s feet finally moved, and he began surging toward her as well.

She fell, nearly hitting her head on the way down. Damian caught her before she could though, barely. Fuck, she needed to breathe like yesterday.

“I’m terrible, horrible, I shouldn’t have done this,” the words used the last of her breath and were only a whisper.

Panic made his throat feel stuck and his voice thick. “Angel,” Damian spoke as calmly as he could. “You need to breathe.”

She didn’t breathe.

oooOOOooo

Usually, lack of sleep was associated with the coffee obsessed Drake, but it seemed Damian’s own mind was determined to show him what it was like to live like a lunatic. He wasn’t able to sleep even when he tried, though he didn’t try that much either. He’s pretty sure he spent an hour staring at his weedkiller order – an order that somehow got lost in Kentucky – wishing it to suddenly appear at the front gate. Then again after coming home, most of the night was a blur.

He rubbed his eyes and let his thoughts wander through the memories of last night. Or, early morning technically.

Marinette looked delicate and broken on the stretcher as she was loaded into the ambulance. Damian had to turn his head away. He saw Drake and Todd looking at him, but he didn’t want their fucking pity.

She’d be fine.

She had to be.

After Angel had passed out, she began to breathe again. She immediately got medical attention for her injuries, riding in a different ambulance than Joker, who also got medical attention at Arkham. Damian wanted nothing more than to skin him alive as he left, but he avoided doing it for the time being. Barely.

“There’s some of Joker’s laughing shit over here, B-man.”

“Have Red Robin neutralize it. We’ll have to check the tapes and see if anyone was affected.”

“Besides the guy who’s body we found behind the desk, I don’t think anyone else got hit. But good call. Red Robin, over here!”

Drake got the security camera feed and Damian saw the entirety of what happened in the hotel lobby. His Angel fought bravely and intelligently, though he couldn’t say he was a fan of the bitch who left her behind.

“Why did she go for the elevator? I’d hate being stuck in there with the Joker. And she let her classmate just fight?”

“Maybe she called for help once she got away. And even if she didn’t, we can’t judge a teenager for panicking in this situation, Tim. Damian’s friend is an anomaly.”

“I don’t know… too bad the cameras don’t have audio, I wonder what she’s saying before they realize that Joker is there.”

“Are you able to read her lips?”

“Golly jee I wish I fucking thought of that! Thanks for reminding me to read her lips on this old and grainy camera footage where you can barely tell her eyes from her nose!”

“Jesus Replacement, no need to bite my head off.”

Damian looked into it,and found that no calls were made to the police until the plant fell through the window. The calls then were about Ivy appearing, deduced by people nearby who saw the plant. That good for nothing bitch left my Angel with the Joker-

“No calls were made by anyone within the hotel. All the calls were made by people on the street or living nearby who saw the plant.”

“Hmm… Odd…”

“…I’m sorry but how the fuck did someone sleep through a giant ass plant breaking the main floor windows? How?!”

“Maybe it’s a French secret.”

He shook his head. After they got all the information, father decided to send the French children back early and pay for it himself. Damian, internally, knew why. He painted a target on Angel’s back, if she didn’t have one before.

“You realize he heard you, right?”

“What do you want, Todd?”

“Fucks’ sake demon spawn, listen to me. Joker heard you call her Angel.”

“…”

“I was already aware of that. I’ve made plans to have the class moved back in Paris. If it gets around, She’ll be an ocean away and more difficult to harm.”

“Alright, B. Was just trying to warn Demon Spawn.”

“Maybe next time he won’t fuck up.”

“Tim, no need to be harsh.”

“It’s vigilante 101, Bruce. Damian’s been doing this for years.”

“Perhaps instead of being berated for a mistake he didn’t intend, you should let Master Damian retire to his room to rest.”

Damian grumbled to himself, trying to push the intrusive awful worrisome thoughts out of his head. The ones that said maybe going back to Paris wouldn’t be enough to protect her. The ones that said Joker would want revenge, the ones that-

The ones that he wasn’t fucking listening to right now thank you very fucking much!

Damian sighed to himself. He needed some sleep. After handling the news, getting the class handled, and looking into everything involving Joker’s break in at the hotel he was told to get to bed as the sun began rising. It hadn’t really worked, as now a few hours later he was debating stealing some of Drake’s coffee to make it through the day.

Because he did have one very important task to do today. He needed to check on his Angel, and say goodbye to her. He had her number of course, and they could text as often as possible for the two of them, but he still needed to see her. See her and apologize for how horrible this trip must’ve turned out for her.

I’m bad luck, being near me ruined her trip.

Damian went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, ignoring that train of thought.

Riddler attacked her when I was there. Joker appeared after I dropped her off. I made her unlucky. I got her hurt.

It’d be easier to ignore that train of thought if it weren’t so fucking loud.

Time felt blurry right now. Probably because he was tired. But soon he was dressed in a hoodie and sunglasses, disguised so he didn’t get mobbed by paparazzi while visiting his Angel in the hotel. He was pulling his shoes on when there was a knock at the door.

“What do you want?” The knocking bounced in his head and made it hurt. Maybe he had a migraine, he wasn’t sure.

“Such a nice way to say good morning Demon Spawn,” Todd strolled in like he fucking owned the place and leaned against the wall next to the door. Damian wondered what it’d be like to have Jon’s laser sight so he could glare at Todd and kill him.

“You didn’t have permission to come in.”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to.”

“Tough shit,” Todd rolled his eyes. “…You… alright?”

Damian narrowed his eyes at him. “Why are you asking something like that?”

“Your friend got attacked and is leaving the city because of a target on her back. Which, while I did point out that you called her a petname in front of Joker-“

“It isn’t a petname-“

“-It isn’t your fault.”

The words starkly contrasted Damian’s internal beliefs and he had to blink a few moments to make sure what he heard was real. Because what the fuck? Why would Todd try to convince him his fuck up somehow wasn’t his fucking fault!?

“It’s… not my fault that I stupidly revealed a relationship connection to a civilian in front of one of the worst villains this city has suffered?”

“Okay, that was all you, smartass,” Todd sighed. “but the other shit isn’t your fault. You didn’t hurt her, the fucked up clown did. You didn’t put her in danger, her fucking teacher and class did by abandoning her. You’re at fault for your actions, not other people’s, so if you’re blaming yourself then fucking stop. Freckles’d probably get upset if you were using her to hate yourself.”

“What on this planet makes you think I’m doing that?!” Damian’s voice rose in a snap, hypocritically, because he realized as he spoke the words that he… kind of was doing that.

Fucking feelings and fucking worry and fucking weeds in his head were the reason, of course, but he… was… fuck, he’s tired isn’t he?

“I died, Demon Spawn.” Damian raised a brow at Todd, waiting for the halfwit to continue. “Bruce and I… aren’t on the best of terms, but I did realize he… he did that. Where what Joker did was his fault. I’m not happy the fucker is still alive, but that doesn’t mean Bruce was the one who killed me. No that was all Joker.”

“What does that have to do with anything again?” Damian really just wanted Todd out of his room and not talking about things in the past. He totally understood his point and everything, but it wasn’t anything a gallon sized bottle of weedkiller wouldn’t fix.

“Wow, you must be really tired, damn,” the fucker smirked before his expression changed into something less asshole-ish. “I’m saying that if you’re blaming yourself for what the Joker did to Freckles, stop it. The fucker lost a leg and she’s on her way to the hotel from the hospital now.”

Wait.

Wait what?

“Wait what?!” Damian wasn’t even sure which one he was reacting to – the news that Angel was okay or the news that the Joker was permanently damaged.

Angel’s self defense might’ve permanently helped Gotham?!

Okay maybe he knew what he was reacting to.

Todd turned to leave like a fucking dickhead and Damian could hear the smirk in his voice as he walked away. “Check the news for the Joker thing and ask Alfred to take you to Freckles in like an hour.”

Damian was smart enough to realize that not checking out of spite for Todd would only disadvantage himself.

He still only checked a couple minutes later though. After glaring at his phone willing himself to somehow know without checking.

He needing headache pills.

oooOOOooo

The Unnamed Teenager That Defeated The Riddler Cripples Joker!

Just days after beating The Riddler at his own game, the same teenage girl holds off The Joker until Batman arrives!

“We had to amputate him below the knee,” Arkham doctor says. “There was too much glass in the wound, it cut several muscles, tendons, and arties. The shattered bone didn’t help.”

French Teenager Unavailable for Comment.

[Read More]

oooOOOooo

Damian had snuck through the lobby up to his Angel’s room. Some of her classmates were downstairs, but he hadn’t paid much attention to them, not caring at the moment.

The last memory he had of her was the blood on her hands and tears in her eyes before she fell to the floor. He wanted to change that, wanted to maybe even see if he could get her to smile. Though that felt ambitious…

He just… needed to make sure she was okay.

Damian knocked on Marinette’s hotel room door.

#daminette #maribat #damimari #maridami #marinettexdamian #damian x marinette #Damian Wayne #Marinette #joker #joker mention #he's pretty quiet in this POV #the badassness is in AiG #rip mari's health #in a week alfred be like master wayne #why is there a delivery for weedkiller in your name #damian takes it from his hands #and chugs

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notcanoncompliant · 4 years

Text

Loss of Faith

Remember when I was like ‘777 fic, woooo’ and then nothing happened? This is that fic. 777 is God’s number or something, so I went super the other direction.

Disclaimers:

1. Peter and Tony are pretty OOC. This is mostly aesthetic/setting driven. 2. I am not religious in the slightest. lol

***********************************************

TW: blasphemy, religion, demons/demonic stuff, homophobia, mild internalized homophobia, implied/referenced child abuse (Howard’s A+ parenting), blood mention, lots of references to eating/devouring (all metaphorical, but just in case), suicide mention/suicidal thoughts

And away we go…

***********************************************

{2020}

Tony leaves his flock for an abandoned church by the sea.

It’s where he–where they will wait, for the month, the day, the hour.

It’s too far north along the coast for real, persisting sunlight, but it doesn’t matter. The first few days, Tony spends most of his time on one of the padded benches in the entryway, watching the rain trickle down the outside of the stained glass windows that flank the front door. When the rain is calmer (not beating against the boards and glass), he sits out on the top step under the awning and stares down the path between the borders of swaying dune grass under the ever-grey sky, and does as he’d been told.

***

Days turn into a week. Peter still hasn’t come, and Tony can’t keep sitting around.

He uses his anxious energy to sweep the crust of salt and sand from the wooden floorboards in the entry hall (some of it is ground into the un-stained wood, never to be extracted) and to board up the few cracked and broken plain-glass windows with spare lumber he finds in a back supply room.

When his hands and back and knees need a break from the work, he wanders to one of the foremost pews to sit and look up at the colored expanse making up most of the wall behind the pulpit. An abandoned building is usually irresistible fodder for less than reputable explorers; he wonders what sort of power has kept the most beautiful panes from taking the brunt of any local teens and drunks.

Dark eyes flash through his mind.

He imagines Peter walking ahead of him to step up past the altar and run fingertips down a section of the driftwood cross.

Tony wants to scream, or maybe fall to his knees and pray.

He does neither.

***

{1990}

The town’s small, almost the entirety clustered together in the pews every Sunday. Everyone knows everyone, and new faces cause talk (no one wants to call it gossip; too close to something sinful), but everyone notices.

Tony notices. He feels the new boy’s eyes on him every service. If he turns around in his seat, he knows he’ll see honey-brown shining from the back pew. He’s about Tony’s age, maybe a little younger.

It only takes a week.

Peter stands before Tony on the steps to the church and asks if he’d like to go to the little taco truck down the road and maybe walk to the park? The pink stain on Peter’s cheeks says too much and not enough.

‘No’ sticks in Tony’s throat, comes out as a shy ‘Yeah, sure’. He tries not to think of the heat in his own face, or the hummingbird rhythm fluttering behind his ribs

***

{2020}

‘Gone’ doesn’t mean anything. Thirty years of distance don’t mean anything. And those things mean even less when Tony steps into the attic bedroom and finds his past right there in front of him, dressed all in black and sprawled on the ratty armchair Tony still hasn’t managed to haul away.

Peter manages to look both impeccable and very at home in the time-weathered, dusty space; an angel in a decaying throne room.

“Hello, Father,” Peter says, the corners of his mouth ticking up.

Tony crosses slowly to the bed and lowers himself to sit at the edge, uncaring of the way the springs croak under his weight.

There are things he should ask, questions that matter:

What’s left for me after this life, now? Where do I go when you’re done with me?

But Peter is here, gorgeous, untouched by age and everything else that’s ravaged Tony’s body, and Tony is weak.

“Did you ever really love me?” he asks.

The rain patters loudly against the bedroom (attic) windows, beats against the roof. Peter smiles a little. His eyes are the color of burnt honey in the lamp light.

“I always have.”

Tony swallows, nods, mostly to himself.

When Peter rises fluidly from the armchair and steps forward, Tony’s chest tightens–but his hands still come up automatically to rest on Peter’s hips as the younger (looking) straddles his lap.

Peter’s next words are a warm, satisfied murmur, washing across Tony’s lips.

“Even more so, now. You’ve given up everything for me.”

The truth of it burns, but the weight of Peter on his thighs, the press of their bodies and the twin hardness made obvious, turns the heat into something that doesn’t hurt so much.

{1990}

“Fuck what they think.”

“Peter!” Tony says on a surprised laugh. He tries (and fails) to hold back his grin at Peter’s unrepentant look.

It’s beautiful outside, the sun spilling through the leafy canopy above them, dappling the grass in their clearing with spots of gold. Howard still hasn’t found this place, far enough in the woods behind the church that Pastor Stark wouldn’t deign to venture, and Tony’s hoping to keep it that way.

“We’re not doing anything wrong,” Peter insists. “Going to hell for wanting to hold hands? To kiss each other, to touch? Love isn’t a sin.”

Tony stiffens, his retort sticking in his throat.

He pushes himself up onto his elbows, twists to stare down at Peter.

“Love?”

Peter looks fondly amused where he’s still stretched out on the green.

“Yes, love. I love you, Tony.”

He’s laying so that the speckled light doesn’t touch his face. His eyes look darker in the dappling shadows, almost black. But his smile is as warm as ever, as kind.

Tony rolls over, ignoring the faint twist of ‘wrong’ (like he always does), and sprawls along the length of the other teen’s body. He slots their legs together and brushes a breathless, smiling kiss across his boyfriend’s lips.

“I love you, too.”

***

{2020}

It’s supposed to be harder.

He’s supposed to be angrier, guiltier. The flames of the pit themselves should be licking under his skin and reminding him of all he’s given up for something he’s spent more than half his life ‘fighting’.

But he gives in shamefully quickly, even as Peter’s eyes turn black as pitch, fathomless and ancient (for all that they seem to repel the light, they are not empty).

Tony thinks traitorous thoughts–

Maybe this is what the fire feels like…maybe this is sin–the delicious dark heat that pours over him, this tingling warmth that spreads through his body, that envelops and invades everything (especially those parts of him so glad to be enveloped and invaded); how could it be so wrong when it feels anything but?

–and he shudders as they are whispered back, Peter’s voice low and sweet in his ear, praising him for opening up, accepting what he’s being given.

And he is. He’s tilting his head, pressing back into the pillow, closing his eyes and exposing his throat as he opens first for Peter’s confident and surprisingly careful fingers, and then for something larger, harder, more.

Taking everything Peter gives.

Over and over and over again.

***

{1990}

During the services Howard has him assisting, Tony barely casts a glance in Peter’s direction. It’s hard, impossible–but fear is a strong motivator, and he fears losing Peter too much to draw attention to him. He knows his father must be aware, at least in part–but Stark men are particularly good at pretending their problems away, and in this case, Tony’s perfectly happy to let Howard pretend ignorance.

After every service, hours later, he always apologizes to Peter with words and hands and the press of lips.

Now, as with every time, the apology is accepted in kind.

“I love you,” Peter says into the hairsbreadth of space between their lips. “I’ll wait for you. One day you won’t have to apologize anymore.”

Tony swallows, nods. It’s a reminder that always leaves him sick with hope–sometimes more sick than hopeful. But he wants it, wants to stop apologizing, wants to just…keep this. What they have. Even if it means changing everything.

Peter smiles at him, heat in the curve of his lips, eyes black in the darkness of the clearing. “I believe in you, Tony. I’ll follow where you go. Always.”

***

{2020}

The aches are fading.

Tony spends hours dusting, cleaning, repairing; his hands don’t cramp, his knees and back don’t protest. When he asks about it, he gets a shrug.

“I take care of my things” is all Peter says. The flippancy (and the words themselves) are insulting, but Tony doesn’t feel as stung as he should.

His reflection looks no younger (he wonders when that will change), but he feels it.

His morning walk becomes a run; a few miles a day. He breathes the salty-clean tang of the ocean air, his feet sinking into sand still wet from the tide.

There’s a cluster of boulders a little ways down the beach, tide pools between them. When he discovers them, he comes back so he and Peter can walk down to look at all the small things living in them. Small creatures in their own hidden corner of the world.

***

{1990}

“Shh, someone might hear you…”

Peter says it every time they do this, teases like this. It’s (it has to be) a lie. This is their place, this clearing, so far from everyone that Tony can only hear the quiet sounds of the forest around them.

Tony barely manages to repress the whine building in his throat, caught behind his teeth. He can do it, be quiet; he can do what Peter says. He wants to.

But he can listen and still glare half-heartedly, beg with his eyes–

(because his hands are clasped over his head, and Tony is good; he’s good, and he’s going to keep them there, no matter how touchable Peter looks in the moonlight, pale and slender and otherworldly–)

–and when his glare only earns him a wicked, promising smile, the things in Tony’s heart–in his mind–that are supposed to shy away, reach for it.

It’s wrong, it’s wrong that the hot squeeze of Peter’s body around the hardest part of Tony’s should be damning, when it feels so perfect, so natural, so…divine.

He flushes at the thought.

The moonlight leeches color from the clearing, turns everything around them inky black and silver, but when Peter’s smile turns somehow sharper and softer all at once, Tony is sure the other boy can tell.

***

{2020}

It’s been months, and there’s still grey in Tony’s hair. Tony knows it’s because Peter likes how it looks, the same way Peter likes the calluses and scars, the crow’s feet.

“The marks of time look delicious on you,” Peter tells him (murmurs in his ear at the produce section at the little grocery store in town). Tony hasn’t blushed so hard in public (at all) since the last time he knew Peter.

Public is almost unfamiliar, now; Tony’s days are so swallowed (sometimes literally…frequently literally) by Peter, that it’s difficult to remember that there are things outside of their tiny corner of the world.

But they’ve been here long enough that when they do venture out, eyes follow them with that curiously affectionate judgement singular to small towns; everyone might make assumptions, might wonder, but you’re still one of them.

Tony thinks maybe the people of this tiny town find some measure of peace in seeing their place of worship–even unused as such–clearly cared for. He knows he does. It’s the closest he ever gets, anymore, to missing the clergy. But no one ever approaches them, or the church itself–no visitors or solicitors find their way down the long dirt road.

No one pries into his and Peter’s life; it’s less about manners and more about the thrill of guesswork and gossip. The people here are kind and close-knit and bored, and Tony finds his and Peter’s relationship with them weirdly symbiotic:

The people spread warm, juicy gossip among themselves–

(Peter’s favorite rumor is about the “eccentric, enigmatic ‘billionaire’ and his ‘kept boy’”; he likes to exacerbate that one frequently; plasters himself along Tony’s back or front in brief moments, whispers in his ear, teases and pouts and asks for treats. He does it all quietly enough to feel intimate, and just obviously enough to draw attention.

Coming from someone–something–like Peter, it’s…well, it’s the kind of show that means Tony catches a lot of quickly diverted gazes, flushed cheeks and parted lips.)

–and he and Peter are essentially left alone to be the spectacle of Them, in a way they hadn’t been able to before.

Tony likes knowing he can kiss his lover in front of the seasonal fruit display and no one in this place would make him feel hunted…

…only watched.

And he’s okay with being watched, okay with being a part of the show. It reminds him of giving a particularly successful sermon; that swell of warmth, of energy.

He calls it ‘connection’.

Peter disagrees.

“It’s power, Father,” he says, playfully mocking, when they’ve returned home.

Tony just fucks up into him harder than before, watches the shark-like smirk break in a moan.

He knows Peter’s right; there’s power in the attention, in being the orchestrator of rituals. But Tony’s right, too.

He rarely feels more connected to Peter than when he pulls out and Peter lowers to his knees to receive communion.

***

{1990}

Black. Lightless depth where there had just been honey-gold warmth.

“Peter…what…” Tony manages. He reaches out, fingers trembling as he carefully touches the fine skin beneath Peter’s eye. It feels the same, soft and warm and real over the curve of his lover’s cheekbone, a familiar path traveled.

He’d known. He’d known and he’d looked the other way–no, he’d looked straight at it, into it, wanted it–but seeing is…honest. Terrifying.

“No,” Tony breathes, “please, no–”

“Yes,” Peter says, and it’s almost–it’s regretful, but amused and sympathetic in a way that makes Tony feel small and sick.

He would give anything, in this moment, to go back–to keep arguing with his boyfriend about something as…as comparatively mundane as coming out to Howard, as simple as leaving the congregation. He’d take hours of frustration, he’d take tears. He’d take Peter turning and leaving him there alone between the pews.

He’d take anything to go back before flat darkness had overtaken the honey of his boyfriend’s eyes, when Tony could still pretend he didn’t know. That he wasn’t in love with–didn’t desire–

It was…is this his punishment? Is this what he’s always been bound for? For being–for loving who he does, the way he does–?

“Not that,” Peter says, suddenly. His fingers wrap Tony’s wrist, squeeze. “Never that.”

The words are firm and incongruously reassuring, and Tony wants so badly to believe them.

How is he supposed to? How is he supposed to remember anything Peter has ever said–any comfort, any praise, anything at all–without wondering how much was used to twist him, turn him?

He yanks his hand out of Peter’s grasp, cradles it to his chest. He can’t–there isn’t a way to handle this, there isn’t a way to–he can’t–

“Get out,” he spits. It comes out weak, shaking…but he still sees it land, sees Peter flinch. “This is…” Tony starts, swallows, stands a little straighter, “this is a house of God, and you’re not welcome.”

Even as he’s saying it, he knows it sounds painfully

The flicker of hurt is gone so fast from Peter’s expression Tony can pretend it wasn’t there.

“Faith really only extends so far,” Peter says, smirking.

There’s ridicule there, such a sharp departure from minutes before, from the moment right before Peter had revealed…this–himself.

Tony tries to breathe. “I said–”

“Don’t you love me?”

Oh, it burns. More than fury, more than flame.

More than anything, Tony thinks.

“No,” he lies.

Peter stares at him for another long moment, gaze unreadable…until the corner of his mouth quirks up.

“Liar.”

And he vanishes. Gone. Gone, along with whatever he’d managed to carve from everything that Tony is.

Tony sinks to his knees on the rug, buries his hands in his hair. Drops them to the floor to touch the space where Peter had just been standing.

He tries to pray, tries to think, tries to do something, anything–but all he can see is Peter’s face.

***

{2020}

Sixth month, sixth day, sixth hour.

Tony calls Peter a cliche, and Peter gives him that flat look he gets sometimes when he’s not sure what to do with Tony’s teasing. It appears more often, now, that look; it didn’t when they were younger, in the first incarnation of Them. Peter would simply fire something back; playfully cutting, but never mean.

Now, Tony pokes the beast fully aware of what–of who–he’s teasing. He watches that wonder flit across Peter’s features, and feels a warm, appreciative sort of sympathy for something so old and powerful that can feel such doubt, that can be surprised by something so comparatively small.

Is it really so strange for Tony to have accepted him? To have accepted this as his ending?

Everything is painted in silver and shadow, the tide inky black where it laps at the shore. Tony watches it, the gentle drag back and forth over the wet, packed sand, and the glittery flecks of moonlight capping the small, rippling waves.

“I gave up everything,” he says.

The dune grass behind them moves with the low breeze, blades rattling in whispers. Peter doesn’t say anything.

Tony doesn’t need him to.

“I traded everything I had, everything I knew and fought for and thought I’d loved, and I traded it all for you. Even before you came back for me.” Tony smiles, small. “I never closed my doors to you. I couldn’t. I…didn’t know how.”

“Tony…”

There’s something unfamiliar, tight, in Peter’s voice. Concerned. It brings a wavering, liquid edge to Tony’s vision to match the tightening of his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Tony continues, softly; he knows Peter will hear him over the susurrus of the waves, the grass. “I’ve already said it before, but I am. I’m sorry I lied and tried to cast you out. That I tried many more times, in many more ways.”

Turning, he finally looks to the being to whom he belongs.

“I gave up everything, and you gave me so much more. You gave me life.” His smile trembles, now, and he can’t stop it, tears rolling down his cheeks freely (because he can feel, he can be whatever it is that he is, can leave knowing he was). “It only seems fair to return it to you.”

He holds out his hand, because it’s what he has to do, and he’s going to do it the way he wants to. He’s going to step into the waves with Peter’s hand in his and he’s going to fade with Peter’s arms around him, he’s going to trade his ‘known’ for the mystery of what comes next, and he’s going to do it with the certainty and peace he’s been given–

“No.”

Tony falters, hand extended between them. He swallows the sting. “You don’t have to test me, I–”

“I’m not testing you,” Peter says, that unfamiliar tension in his voice, that worry. “I’m telling you ‘no’.”

The waves crash, the grass whips a little louder. Peter’s eyes are pitch dark, his jaw set, and he’s no taller, no different on the outside, but Tony can feel him–can feel the size of him, the enormity of something borne of a place not bound by the laws of nature, the prickling electric wrong that tunnels under Tony’s skin and lights him from the inside, draws him close and pulls him apart without ever rending flesh from bone.

“You,” Peter says–growls, “are mine.”

Everything stops. The grass ceases its motion. The waves fall flat.

Tony’s heartbeat pounds in his ears, and each breath rushes hollow, trembling with the remnants of his tears.

Peter is…afraid.

A laugh pushes out from Tony’s chest, a wet, rasping thing.

“I know,” he says.

He crosses the sand, slipping into the gentleness he’d learned in front of a congregation, but so much more genuine as he comes to a stop before his world, his heart. “I am. We’re here because I am. I’m…going, because I am. I’m repaying you for an incomparable gift.”

He brings up a hand, brushes the backs of his fingers along Peter’s jaw.

“I made a deal, didn’t I?”

Peter reaches up and gently twines their fingers together, presses a long kiss to Tony’s knuckles, closes his eyes. Tony watches him take a breath, deep and fortifying.

The ocean laps softly beside them, the grass begins murmuring.

After a moment, Peter opens his eyes, dark and sure.

“There are other ways.”

***

{2019}

The last of his flock leaves, and the door closes heavy and soft.

He hasn’t told them, yet. Can’t. Isn’t sure he can muster the words of comfort, the reassurances of a plan he’s doubted for far too long. There’s guilt, fear; sadness. Anger. He can’t parse through it all, isn’t sure he ever will, and he’s not sure he should.

He doesn’t bother cleaning or preparing for the next day. There is something else he needs to do.

Howard never did find the clearing. When his father did find them, he and Peter, it had been on the steps of Tony’s family home.

A disgrace, an abomination; a shadow at a doorstep already shadowed by simpler, human frailty (a pastor with a temper has a quiet home flock). He had bent to the force of his father, told Peter to go home. And Peter had left, hurt in his expression, something like betrayal.

Tony remembers how hard it had been to forget that look, even in the months following the night between the pews, when he was still afraid, still lost and subsisting on the kind of faith that springs in the well of adamant denial of truths too large to handle. He remembers his own resentment–

You said you would follow me, always, and you disappeared. You wouldn’t follow me into the nothingness of us, into the emptiness of this–you left me to my own wounds–

It seems…petty, now. Everything does.

Howard’s reign of pious terror, a fleck–less than–of what Tony has seen, what Tony has touched. His father died a respected man of the cloth, and his mother and her undisturbed silence on the matters of home went with him. Violence begets violence, and Tony still sometimes wonders how violent a place his parents rest, being who they were and going as they did in the brutal, senseless twist of metal and glass.

He stands in the clearing, a place still untouched, though the world continues to creep in towards its edges, and he wonders what waits for him. What will eat him away when the guilt and resentment have lost their remaining teeth, when the the unstoppable, hungry, thoughtless thing spreading through his brain swallows him whole and steals his breath.

The moonlight paints the world in dark, ethereal shades, and he hopes that maybe Peter will be the thing devouring.

Tears well, and he tilts his head back, shuts his eyes and imagines he can feel the silver on his skin.

“If I’m going, let me go with you,” Tony whispers, drops slipping free and rolling down his cheeks, breath quickening, heart rising to his throat.

“Whatever you want,” he promises to the empty air, to the moonlight, to the stars, to the shadows between the trees, words trembling, “you can have it, if you take me, too.”

He opens his eyes, stares up at the wobbling streaks of the cosmos, bits of light quivering in the tears that won’t stop coming, and all he can think of is pitch blackness, emptiness that should feel cold but only reminds him of fire and life and want and love–

“Shh…” a voice whispers back. “Someone might hear you.”

*** *** ***

{2020–}

There are other ways.

The way they’d chosen was a blade, and a chalice, and Peter’s blood. It was a candlelight vigil to all the things they’d given up for each other, and it was their joining in the ring of flickering flames, spread before the audience of the altar and the tall driftwood cross.

(Tony had lain beside him after, buzzing and flying and unable to stop touching, stop feeling, and still managed to poke fun at the the five-pointed star beneath their bodies…and Peter had let slip a soft laugh, had grinned and rolled over and pushed Tony’s legs apart, reminded him again of the power of certain kinds of worship)

It was another deal, an eternal kind of promise. Maybe one too large for Tony to understand, but one he’d made nonetheless, with as little fear as he’d felt for walking into the sea.

Fear does not chew at his thoughts. Disease does not consume him.

Every night, but especially on moonlit nights, when everything is silver and shadows, he and Peter share twin, pitch-dark gazes…

…and they devour each other.

{Always}

***

The world does not encroach on the tiny town by the sea. It does not stretch fingers along the winding dirt path to the steps of the once-abandoned church.

The people in the town worship with whispers, watch with flushed cheeks and parted lips.

Because their gods sometimes see fit to walk among them, and their gods are beautiful.

fin

***************************************************

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@the-amazing-spidertwink, @silkystark, @starkercrossedlovers, @hoeforthegays, @starkeroverlord, @problematic-sofatini, @starker-reader, @mrstark-please, @youknowwhoiamx, @aoifelaufeyson, @fastenyourseats, @starkerhowlter, @smidnite, @starkeristheendgame

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #tw: blasphemy #tw: blood #demon!Peter #priest!Tony #tw: religion #tw: homophobia #tw: internalized homophobia #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #bamf peter parker #bamf!peter #nff #starkerflowers fic #Tw: suicide mention

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embcrry · 4 years

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ok thisss took wayyy longer than i’d expected . like it’s fucking midnight ? like guys im such a mess omfg . anywaysss * tana mongeau vc “ welcome to my trash bin daught or welcome back to my trash bin daughter ... what ? was ? that ? idfk . if you wanna plot with my overly tired ass give this post a like and i’ll love you down i promise !! also i apologize for how long this intro is going to be in advance !

new york’s very own 𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄 " 𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐀 " 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 was spotted on broadway street in 𝘓𝘖𝘜𝘉𝘖𝘜𝘛𝘐𝘕 𝘌𝘓𝘖𝘐𝘚𝘌 𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘛𝘚 . your resemblance to barbara palvin is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 birthday bash . while living in nyc , you’ve been labeled as being guarded , but also dependable . i guess being a 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘢��𝘦𝘶𝘱, 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘯 + 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴 . & ( female & she/her ) + ( faith , 21 , she/her , est . )

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

FULL NAME : emilie sierra berry . NICKNAME : emma , em , emma bear ( by her little sister ) . BIRTH DATE : march 1st , 1998 . AGE : 22 . GENDER : female ( cis ) . PRONOUNS : she + her . ORIENTATION : pansexual ( attractions are equal ) , panromantic ( leans more toward women ) . BIRTH PLACE : brisbane , australia ( see home here ) . the family still owns this house but don’t use it much . HOMETOWN : new york city ( upper west side ) , new york ( see home here ) . her dad + little sister still live here today . CURRENT LOCATION : new york city ( upper east side ) , new york ( see home here ) . moved in one year ago after break up . EDUCATION LEVEL : highschool diploma . OCCUPATION : olympic swimmer ( emulated after katie ledecky ) , socialite , escort ( no one knows ) . NET WORTH : 32million ( every year up until she’s twenty five she receives a percentage of her trust fund ) . FAMILY NET WORTH : 3.1billion ( father ) , 4.8billion ( mother + step - father ) . PARENTS : adrian berry ( father , 51 , hedge fund manager ) , natasha laffont ( mother , 48 , former super model + philanthropist ) , thomas laffont ( step - father , 50 , businessman + art collector ) . SIBLINGS : tatiana berry ( sister , 10 , student + ballet dancer ) , bradley laffont ( step-brother , 24 , new york rangers player ) . PETS : jagger ( ragdoll cat , picture ) , maggie ( pomeranian - husky , picture ) . NATIONALITY : australian - american . ETHNICITY : hungarian . CLOTHING STYLE : expensive yet casual ; alot of black , hoodies , leather is a staple , high end sneakers , boots , colorful suits . JEWELRY : gold ; dangly earring , cartier bracelet , tiffany rings , barbell nipple piercings. DIET : pescitarian , no dairy ( lactose intolerant ) . WORK OUT HABITS : six times a week ( mostly boxing + swimming ) . PERSONALITY : guarded ; there is nothing emma hates more than talking about her feelings or letting anyone know who she’s feeling , she has trouble trusting people for good reason ( the girls trust issues have trust issues yall ) + dependable ; if you need anything in the world go to emma she will move mountains to get shit down for you , she’s very punctual , and super disciplined probably due to being an olympian + goofy ; she doesn’t take much too seriously tbh , ( similar to joey + phoebe from friends ) she can be a bit of a space cadet and that always ends in her making everyone laugh + stubborn ; one thing is for sure about emma she’s extremely hard headed , loves getting her way , and is incredibly unforgiving .

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ( in bullets )

her parents met during college , where they both attended princeton university . natasha , her mom , was in the middle of her modeling career completely blowing up while adrian was already setting the foundation of his investment company . they had a whirlwind romance and were married just a year after adrian graduated from princeton . both coming from old money , emma’s grandparents on both sides are extremely meticulous about the image of their family + so the same mentality was instilled in adrian + natasha .

emma spent the first nine years of her life in brisbane , australia . her parents had moved out to australia just a couple years before she was born for the sake of making her father’s company an international success .

with her parents always off doing something , emma was raised by her nanny + butler . when she was six she expressed her desire to get into swimming after watching michael phelps in the 2004 summer olympics . she was in absolute awe by him + wanted to be just like him . so the next day her nanny spoke to her parents and later that day she was enrolled into a local swimming program .

when she was nine her parents broke the news to her that they were moving to new york . at first she wasn’t all too mad about the move , she didn’t have many friends in school , wasn’t a big fan of her teachers , and knew the one thing she loved she could still do in new york . her outlook on the move changed when she found out that her nanny + butler would not be making the move across the equator with them though . how dare her parents steal the only people who’d ever taken care of her away from her ? she thought . she threw an absolute fit in protest ; completely wrecking the home + locking herself away in the bathroom in her room for nearly 20 hours before her nanny talked her into coming out .

once in new york , emma was miserable . she had tantrums everyday and even stopped swimming for a few months . what inevitably pulled her out of her funk was a trip disneyland paris + her mom bringing her out to buy a whole new wardrobe . yall ever heard of a spoiled brat ?

once she was open to the idea of new york she kind of fell in love with the city , to be honest . she grew close to her new nanny + butler , of course and fell in love with her new swimming coach .

when she was fourteen her parents got a divorce and just six months later her mom was married to a billionaire living in connecticut with a son just two years older than emma . anyone with a brain could put together that her mom had been cheating on her dad , that was except for her dad who’d fallen into denial that his ex - wife would come back .

[ trigger warning : alcoholism , child abuse , violence ] after months of listening to her father , emma broke , the two got in a huge screaming match about how her mom wasn’t coming back saying things like “this is so pathetic, stop graveling over a women who doesn’t want you” + “she doesn’t want you” + “just move on, she’s never coming back, she’s fucking an art collector in connecticut”. mind you she’s fourteen talking to her dad like this , yikes . he started spiraling after that , drinking heavily , doing coke more than just at events , and when emma copped an attitude he’d hit her . it started with just a rough slap , pushing her into the pool or down the stairs , and then it turned into punching her . it got so bad her coach started noticing during swim practices and inevitably threatened her dad , either he let her move in with him or he’d call the police . so , not wanting a tarnished reputation , her dad sent her off to live with her swim coach .

[ trigger warning : grooming ] life with her swim coach was cool , she got to swim alot more plus he was extremely high profile due to sending swimmers to the olympics as well acting in a few movies so she got to go to alot of events with him all across the world . she enjoyed her time with him more than she’d enjoyed the entirety of her life and then he got her to the 2012 olympics in london + her trust and appreciation for him sky rocketed . in her eyes no one int he world could or did love her more .

coming back from the olympics , her had fully sobered up and was ready to bring emma back home . her and her coach weren’t completely gun ho for the move but she inevitably moved back home with her father .

[ trigger warning : statutory rape ] just a month after being back home , her coach started being a little too touchy with her . she felt uncomfortable by his advances but figured her was only taking care of her . then he kissed her and she was pretty creeped out so she asked what he was doing , basically the creep told her he was just missing her alot because she wasn’t living with him and reminded her about how he was really the only person who cared about her . she accepted what he said and soon after they started sleeping together regularly . he didn’t even have to tell her not to tell anyone , she innately knew if she ever told anyone he wouldn’t be her coach anymore and emma just wasn’t willing to lose the best coach she’d ever had . this continued for a little over a year until she went to the doctors and her mom went with her , her mom stayed in the room because the check up wasn’t all that invasive + then when her doctor asked her if she was sexually active her mom answered no but emma , not wanting to lie , stayed silent . she inevitably confessed at the appointment that she was sexually active . her mom freaked out and wanted to know who but of course emma didn’t spill that . she inevitably lied and said some guy she went to school with . within a week her mom found out she lied and refused to let emma go anywhere until she confessed who she was sleeping with . knowing her mom wouldn’t let up she told her it was her coach + that it wasn’t a big deal . but emma knew it was . her mom gave her coach an ultimatum he either quit coaching for good or she’d turn him in . she he quit and emma never heard from him again .

she stopped talking to her more directly after that + stopped going back to connecticut for the weekends like she had been since her parents divorce . she was now sixteen without a swimming coach + completely mad at the world . she’d had a rough few years , to say the least . she turned to partying , HEAVY , to cope with it all . she slept with anyone who so much as gave her a second look she didn’t care if they were older than her , had a girlfriend / boyfriend , if you were into her you could have her . it took her almost five months before she committed to a swim coach + they really whipped her back into shape . no more partying , emma went from school to practice and then home . it was awfully boring for the new party girl but she had one of the best coaches in the world + they promised to stop coaching her had she not listened to their every word . the only thing she cared more about then letting loose was going to another olympics .

she attended a private school in manhattan where she completely smashed each and everyone of the school, districts , and state records in swimming . she was never big into her academics but she upheld a b average for the sake of being able to stay on the schools swimming team . if she received anything less than a b she would guilt her dad into giving her school a donation so they’d give her the grade she felt she deserved .

she graduated from highschool in 2016 and although she was accepted into multiple schools across the nation , with athletic full ride offers from each school , but she inevitably declined each school because she did want to spend another second behind a desk . knowing her dad would never approve of her not going to college , with his ivy league education ass , she lied to him and said she was attending nyu .

she went to the 2016 olympics in rio and completely dominated ( 4 gold medals , 1 silver + breaking five world/olympic/american records in the meets ) .

just months in 2017 her dad started to pick up on her lie about attending college . telling her she needed to enroll immediately or he’d cut her off . calling his bluff she didn’t enroll . she quickly learned that he wasn’t bluffing when he completely cut her off , telling her she had a month to find a place to live and move out .

thanks to her olympics money + her endorsements with tyr sports + adidas she had enough money to get an apartment but her saving would deplete quick so she knew she needed to do something to make alot of money + quick .

desperate and running out of time emma joined seeking arrangements under an alias as sierra meyers . there were a few success and plenty of total blunders on the site but she got lucky with the first women she met with who offered to get her into escorting . emma didn’t even give it a second thought before she said yes , the only thing she asked is that the clientele not want her to attend highly publicized events with her as she's quickly get caught due to her socialite status .

within a year she’d made half of what her entire lifes work had made her , she grew obsessed with escorting and what made it crazy was there were people who would pay her half a million just to have dinner and talk with her . of course , those were the unicorns though because most wanted to sleep with her at the end of the night .

when she turned twenty one her dad gave in and gave her back her blackcard + even offered to move her back into the house , she took the credit card but decided to continue living outside of his walls .

she could’ve quit escorting right then and there , but she’d grown an addiction if you will to her work . there was something about the secrecy of it + her ability to make millions so easily that kept her going .

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

former roommate ; these two moved in together after her dad kicked her out + even though she moved in with someone else months after they signed the lease she payed them for her half of the rent for the rest of the lease , ex ; they dated when she was cut off by her dad + they inevitably moved into together they could of had a rocky or really good relationship by broke up around this time last year , the guy she “ lost “ her virginity to ; he didn’t actually take her virginity , in truth these two could very well have never even slept together but he’s the guy she lied to her about sleeping with to cover up sleeping with her coach he found out about her lie when emma’s mom asked his parents if he was sleeping with emma we can decide where things went from there between these two , suspicious friend ; they’re starting to pick up on her random disappearing + secrecy , maybe they start following her at some point and inevitably confront her about escorting or maybe they think she’s doing something else and accuse her of that ? , first girlfriend , more exes , people she’s slept with , someone who she slept with + they had a significant other , fellow olympians , travel buddy , podcast co-host ; these two came up with an idea recently to start a podcast , they haven't released it just yet but it’d be similar to call her daddy / impulsive !

#wealthyhq:intro #* spongebob narrator vc * 200 yrs laterrr #🧜‍♀️ ⋆ ◜you dont own me / 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸 .

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hecohansen31 · 5 years

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Well I was thinking about a little love triangle btw ivar x reader x Roman...if you would want to write this?! I’m open about anything and would like to see what comes to your mind but i also could give you an imagine idea...whatever you would like more:)

(A/N): Hey, sweetie!

I kind of had this idea, to explain at least the story behind it (sorry I am sucker for backstories) and I honestly loved writing for these two (although I am sure that I wrote them a bit OOC, and hope it wasn’t rushed).

So I hope that you like it, and will suggest more asks about this couple, because I HAVE IDEAS and now I love my obsessive and jealous assholes with anger issues and mommy issues!

WARNINGS: Mention of Sex (Spoilers of “Vikings” season 5), Anger Issues and Mean Words.

She and Ivar had been best friends for as much as she could remember.

She basically had been the only child in her neighborhood that didn’t care in the slightest about his disability.

She had actually managed to find a way to work around it and have him play with her, as any normal child and because of that their bond was unbreakable.

And soon what had started as a friendship, had swiftly blossomed in a romance…

… at least on her part.

Ivar was an enigma with his self-conscious tendencies and its way to scream even the harshest words to his most loved ones; and although that hadn’t been enough to make her run away, she still felt extremely insecure about her feeling being reciprocated, no matter how much Hvitserk giggled and gossiped with her about his bother…

… she just didn’t know what she truly was for Ivar.

But that year she had decided to be bold, mostly because her parents had told her that they would be moving for her last year of high school, so she hadn’t much time to spend with him.

But she hoped that eventually that little time would be enough.

She had felt particularly bold for the entirety of the year, but suddenly Ivar disappeared… constantly, whenever she planned her confession.

She wasn’t used to it, and she couldn’t help but hate the way he would constantly bail out every date they programmed, whether it was with just her or even with the brothers, and she couldn’t help but be exhausted by the entire thing.

If he had a problem with her, she preferred he discussed about it with her.

And also, she couldn’t help but feel like the brothers were hiding something to her.

But not for long…

The day of the Summer Solstice, a traditional event for the Lothbrock family, she had presented in her best dress, sure that Ivar wouldn’t be missing that night no matter what and she was determined to let him know that she didn’t see him anymore as a friend.

That she wanted more: to be able to hold his hand, to kiss him and to tease him.

But when she had gone to make the confession, Ivar had stopped her, wanting to reveal his own secret, the reason behind his constant disappearances, and for one minute she had hoped, with the way he had told her that she was truly special and meaningful and that it pained him to keep this a secret for her, that he might have loved her…

… and he had smiled so brightly and…

… she had just broken down, internally when he had moved next to a pretty girl, blonde and definitely what a model looked like, pretty like the sun, with a small devilish smile and beautiful blue eyes, matching Ivar’s one: she was definitely the type of woman that should have been beside Ivar.

Not her, definitely.

-This is Fredys, I have been seeing her for a bit… and…- he was clearly in love with her, watching as the Moon that shine brightly in the sky.

She couldn’t even hold a grudge towards the girl, who immediately went for a hug, almost screeching in her ears, and chanting about how happy she was to meet Ivar’s best friend.

Yeah… his best friend.

She would later, mentally, protest on her stupidity, on her tardiness and on the way she held onto hope.

She held onto the thought that maybe Ivar felt something more, and the dread of feeling her love was unrequited… shut her down completely.

She hadn’t talked with the Lothbrock for the rest of the summer.

She couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the brothers, who were supposed to her friends who told her nothing about it, breaking her faith and loyalty.

She had moved at the start of the high school year, without letting others know, ignoring Ivar, not that he had searched her much after he had Fredys, with whom she couldn’t even be mad, since the girl was lovely and nice and she just hoped she would treat Ivar gently.

High school was tough, not only because she was new, but also because, no matter how much Ivar had hurt her, she couldn’t help but miss him.

College helped her a lot and the little job she had managed to get in order to support herself, made her feel occupied enough that relationships, broken hearts and lovers didn’t interest her in the slightest.

That was true, till she had met Roman Godfrey, the one celebrity of Hemlock Grove, the owner of the “White Tower”, asshole extraordinaire, handsome playboy and constant client at the little coffee shop she worked at.

Roman constantly taunted her, at first his flirting had been very annoying, but slowly it had downed to a sweet teasing and everyone on the bar had bets on who would end up asking the other out first, if they managed a date, before they feel into each other’s bed.

She honestly was a bit scared and had still Ivar in her heart.

It almost felt as cheating to accept Roman’s courting, no matter the fact that she liked the gentleness and the cockiness of the elegant man, who charmed her with sweet words, generous tips and on her birthday (he had learned it through Destiny, a fellow barista) flowers, sunflowers, her favorite.

Slowly, slowly she had found herself forgetting about the bound with Ivar, although he still had a part of her heart, no matter what, and she had allowed herself to jump into bed with Roman.

“I don’t want nothing serious” she had mumbled, meanwhile she undid the buttons of his silky shirts, looking at him in those devilish green eyes “… we are not a couple, we just fuck and enjoy each other’s teasing, got me?”.

Roman had just kissed her on the mouth and with time, she had found herself to be the first one to catch feeling: not only the sex was amazing (and the fact that he was one of her first partners didn’t help) but Roman sure knew how to make a woman feel special.

If she had loved Ivar as a first and eternal love, she loved Roman the more she knew about him, the more darkness she dove in.

So, she was thankful each time Roman would suggest that she became his “plus one” at any kind of event, which meant luxurious one, where she would be wearing elegant clothes and nice lingerie under it.

“It doesn’t break our rules” he affirmed, almost as if he wanted to instead confirm the contrary, daring her to reveal each of her feelings “We are not a couple… we are just two friends who occasionally fuck and sometimes… we have accompany each other to mundane events”.

He then felinely grabbed her legs and pushed a hand on them, slowly tracing it till it reached her inner thighs and lightly slapped down there.

“… get ready, wouldn’t want to be late!”

She hadn’t expected to find Ivar again, in one of those events: she hadn’t certainly let Ivar out of her life and she knew that he was also a millionaire exactly like Roman, too young and too much money, but he usually worked outside of America, since he had taken over his father’s agency.

So, she hadn’t expected to see him in the small and lifeless Hemlock Grove.

She had been standing alone, after Roman had promised her a glass of champagne, mostly checking out around herself before a shaky hand was gently put on her shoulder and she turned around, thinking that it might have been Roman’s joke, just to be met with ice-blue eyes, and not leaf-green ones.

-(Y/N)? – he had seemed surprised enough that she had thought she was herself a ghost.

-Ivar- her tone was much calmer and it didn’t hold the same surprise of his, she tried to keep it calm and under control, trying to be the bigger person -… long time no see-.

-You sure have grown up- he breathed out, taking her in further and she couldn’t help the little blush that spread across her face.

-Yeah it’s been a lot- five years, three months and twenty days…

She hadn’t counted each day.

-You moved and didn’t tell us anything- his tone was suddenly betrayed and she could totally see a rage attack come over him and she couldn’t help but bring her arms around her body, in order to shield herself, just to have another pair of arms do the same, and softly Roman purring in her ear.

-Is everything alright, lovely? – he asked, sending Ivar an annoyed look, clearly considering him a cockroach under his shoe, and Ivar replied with a rageful gaze, his fist coming at his sides.

-Yeah yeah- she reassured Roman, pushing herself away from his hold, finding herself uncomfortable with affection like that: that was why she had had trouble into letting Roman be with her.

She hadn’t forgotten Ivar, no matter what.

-… Lothbrock, do you have some business with my girl? – proceeded to ask Roman, immediately respecting your space, although you knew with the way his voice sounded and he was hurt.

-Your girl just distanced yourself from you, so… I don’t think she is… anymore- Ivar replied, viciously, and she just shot him a warning glance, telling him not to step further -… but she used to be my best friend-.

-Ohh, you were in the friendzone, weren’t you Lothbrok? – made fun of him Roman, and she immediately pushed an hand on Ivar’s chest to stop him (she couldn’t help but love the fact that his chest hadn’t become less firm in the years they had spent apart).

-Go to Hell, Godfrey- he simply replied, meanwhile she led him away from the crowd.

-What the hell has taken you, Ivar? - she asked once they were outside; she was shivering miserably in her low-cute dress, but an angry Ivar was a time-bomb and Roman was worse than gasoline, when he wanted to.

-What about you, (Y/N)?! – he replied, angrily, meanwhile she rolled her eyes -… you leave and never come back, without telling nothing…! And don’t answer texts…! It’s like you disappeared off the face of Earth! -.

She knew that if she hadn’t been through the heartbreak she had been and without the personal growth she had gone through, she would have just asked for Ivar’s forgiveness, but she wasn’t that girl anymore, no matter her feelings for him… he needed to hear something, the truth.

-Oh, sorry, Ivar…- her voice was so sarcastic that Ivar flinched at the tone -… but I honestly didn’t think that you cared in the slightest, since you spent all the year AVOIDING ME-.

She had been scared that he might have been the one to do a scene, but apparently… it was her.

He looked at her shocked, probably unused to her sass.

-… you literally not only did that, but you know what got me even more angry? YOU DID IT FOR A GIRL! – she took a deep breath, much to regain her voice after the scream than to give Ivar a break -… I never let a boy come between us, not that there would have been, because I liked you, but…-.

She couldn’t keep going, because of the truth she had spit out.

But could you blame her? It had been on the point of her tongue for so long…

… and now it was out.

-(Y/N)… I …- but before he could say anything, she run away, as fast as she could and when she moved inside, to grab quickly her coat, she was met with Roman’s broad chest and although he looked a bit angered, he seemed worried for her, but she was in too much panic.

-… Earth to (Y/N)… is everything ok? – he asked, pushing her chin up to check her face, as if he was expecting bruises -… did Lothbrock hurt you? -.

-No, Ivar would never hurt me- it was one of the few things she knew; Ivar could scream at her and be all enraged but he would never hurt her, even playfully -… but I am tired and I prefer to go home-.

-I can escort you, home, this event was boring…- he suggested, gently putting an hand over her hipbone, which made her react roughly, pushing herself away from his hold and seeing he hurt in his eyes.

-I prefer to go home, alone- and then she bit her lip, trying her best to find a way to lessen Roman’s bad mood -… I am sorry-.

-He is the one who broke your heart, isn’t he? – he asked, meanwhile he scratched her head -… I kind of thought that you might just be playing hard to get, but you are truly broken-.

The words were meant to bring her to her knees, to hurt her and before she knew it, she had slapped Roman’s smirk off his face, and she stumped out of the ballroom, screaming in his direction.

-Never contact me again, ASSHOLE! -.

—

The following day she awoke at noon, after she had cried out her entire heart a bit out of anger and bit out of pure sadness, at the simple thought that she might have fucked up each of her relationships.

An headache was storming in her head, so she didn’t dare get out of her little apartment, meanwhile her roommate tried to get her up, in the end leaving her there, with a tray of breakfast next to her bed, and pushed her phone near the night stand, in order for the girl to finally “shut him up” since it had been bleeping and trilling for the entire morning.

She had expected Roman’s calls, and she felt extremely good ignoring them, but the unknown number which presented himself as Ivar was something she hadn’t thought about, mostly because she hoped that he would be off for good after that night.

She had scared him enough with both her screams and her confessions, but she couldn’t help but be curious about the messages he had sent her.

At first they were simply just “I am sorry” and “It’s me Ivar, your hot grumpy boyfriend gave me your number” “No I didn’t beat him up for it” (she almost laughed at it) “… and I didn’t know you felt that way”, she just replied quickly with a “Hello, there and I am glad you didn’t beat him”, she was halfway through mentioning the “I like you” confession… but before she could there came a knock from her door, and she just simply rolled off, since it was either some marketer or just Roman.

She didn’t know which option was worse.

She simply rolled onto her side, and gently focused on the screen and Ivar’s icon appeared changed with the writing “is writing” and soon there was his reply “… I mean… I don’t think that he wanted to beat a cripple so… you know there is an advantage into being one”.

She couldn’t help but feel fifteen again, when her and Ivar would chat back and forth, with him making fun of disability and hers chastising him for her; it wasn’t so difficult to move onto that complicity again, and she realized that nothing had changed.

That she still loved him.

In her attempt to ignore Roman, who had with no delicacy shouted her to let him in, she just decided to continue to chat with Ivar, since it was something that made her feel better, although she was bit too pissed with both of them.

“… the thing with Freydis ended” she honestly hadn’t asked nothing about it, but Ivar seemed to bring it up naturally “… she kind of… it is very fucked up to say, but she… cheated on me and I was almost a father to child that wasn’t mine… Gosh that is fucked up”.

She hadn’t known about this, mostly because as soon as anything talked about her and her relationship with Ivar she started to read away, not out of disrespect to the woman, but more out of respect for her heart.

So, she had no idea, and her heart couldn’t help but clench at that news.

“I am extremely sorry, Ivar” she simply, messaged, knowing perfectly that it had probably hurt even more because she wasn’t there with him.

“She wasn’t my match, definitely” he simply replied, but she knew that he harbored much more “… and I have to talk about something with you, and I don’t think that I can do it on the phone”.

And then a message followed:

“Can I come over?”.

She had to wait something like a quarter of an hour, before hearing Roman greet Ivar roughly, and Ivar just huffed, hence, it was her cue to welcome her guests.

“I am not talking with him near me” Ivar protested and Roman just rolled his eyes as if to say “likewise”.

“I have a storming headache, because I have been crying about you two, so I am not giving yo the luxury to choose”

And then she strutted into the kitchen, after she had thrown out her roommate’s cold tea, to make a new one, and two coffees.

Soon she heard grumbling and Roman was showing Ivar the place where he could leave the jacket, meanwhile he pulled a chair out for himself, stretching his long legs, meanwhile he sent her a dirty look, mostly due to her wearing a nightgown he had gifted her.

“It was cold, outside” he mumbled, just as Ivar joined them, stumbling a bit awkwardly on his crutch.

“… I didn’t think that your cold heart felt coldness” she replied, pointedly, earning Ivar’s laugh “… and don’t you dare laugh, I am pretty curious about knowing how you managed to get my number without fighting someone”.

Both the men sat down, with their tails between their legs, and waited to raise their heads till she put the coffee in front of them: Roman’s black, Ivar’s with too much sugar.

Waiting for them to speak up.

Ivar seemed at unease so Roman went first:

“I am sorry for those horrible things I told you, last night” he lowered his head, before hitting her with those guilty green eyes “…I was scared, because I was jealous, I mean… he is quite handsome, if you put something in his mouth”.

Immediately, Ivar almost went to hit him, but was stopped from a pointed glance of hers.

“It was stupid, childish and irresponsible” he pointed each word with meaning and she couldn’t help but hold out an hand which he kissed tenderly.

And this got Ivar to act up, pushing her attention away from him, when he started confessing.

“I am sorry for ignoring you for an entire year… I…” he looked around, before letting out a meaningful breath “… actually have had a crush on you for the longest, but you never acted out on it, so I thought I was indeed on the ‘friendzone’ “.

Roman didn’t laugh just because he threatened with his eyes.

“Freydis was a simple filler, I thought she might help me to forget you, but once you went away, you probably brought my heart with you”.

She was a bit teary and shushed the tears turning around to check the teas, before pouring it into a cup, sitting in front of the two awaiting males.

“I know this will sound stupid…” because it wasn’t something that was said useful “… you both broke my heart”.

She sipped her tea, to leave out a dramatic pause, eyeing with her side-eye the two males, who were holding a grudge against each other.

“… but… for some fucked up way… I really really like you two, both” they looked at her incredulous “… without Ivar, I wouldn’t have met you Roman: you helped me seeing the world and that there is love even after an heartbreak, I wouldn’t seriously be the woman I am now”.

She gently caressed Roman’s face, who leaned into her touch, but before Ivar could be left out she did the same to his face, leaning in for a long awaited first kiss:

“… but without Roman, I wouldn’t have met you again and you are my first love, the one I won’t be able to forget no matter how many years pass, you’ll always own a part of my heart”.

She felt him melt on her lips, and Roman gripped a bit more forcefully her hand, searching her look.

“You want us both?” he asked, curious “… I didn’t think that you would be into this, greedy girl”.

Ivar just mumbled:

“I don’t like this, and I don’t like him” but it just took him a nice smile from her, and another kiss to loosen the grudge he owned “I don’t like sharing what is mine”.

“… I think that the word you are looking for Lothbrock is ‘ours’ “.

“Say that again, Godfrey and I will slit your throat in your sleep”.

“Kinky…”.

Well they certainly had their way to get along.

Even more when she just huffed, exiting the kitchen, and they both sent her questioning glazes… before she elegantly slipped off her panties from under her nightgowns, leaving them on the carpet.

They almost got into another fight for that trophy.

But she got the final prize.

#ivar the boneless #roman godfrey #vikings #hemlock grove #ivar the boneless drabble #ivar the boneless blurb #ivar the boneless reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless fem reader #ivar the boneless x fem! reader #vikings imagine #roman godfrey reader #roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey fem reader #roman godfrey x fem! reader #hemlock grove imagine #roman godfrey x reader x ivar the boneless

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constantviewings · 4 years

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The TV Show Trials - House M.D.

House M.D. is an American medical drama that ran for eight seasons from 2004 to 2012. The series follows Dr Gregory House, an ingenious and unsociable physician who flouts hospital rules, clashes with fellow doctors and his assisstants as he comes up with controbertial hypotheses about his patients’ illnesses.

Three Stories

House takes over a diagnostics class for a day and presents the class with three case studies of leg pain. As House tells his story and the class fills up, the class learns to be better doctors and Chase, Foreman and Cameron learn some important details of House’s past.

Going into this show, I was vaguely aware of an episode where House tells a class what happened to his leg, and I assumed it would be much later in the series than this; but the placement of this episode makes perfect sense. Overall, it’s a decent episode. It gives a good insight to House as a character and his attitude towards his job.

Rating: 4

House’s Head/Wilson’s Heart

A bus that House was riding crashes. House claims there’s a victim that’s dying, but not from the bus accident. The key is inside House’s head and he will stop at nothing to figure out who the patient is and what is ailing them.

These episodes are very reliant on the overall series narrative, something that I have minimal knowledge of which made it somewhat difficult to enjoy these episodes for what they are. Apart from that, these episodes are somewhat mediocre compared to most of the other episodes that I watched.

Rating: 3

No Reason

As House and his team are working on the diagnosis of a man with a giant, swollen tongue, the husband of a former patient walks into House’s office and shoots him. From his hospital bed, House continues to treat the patient while his shooter is handcuffed to the neighbouring bed.

This and two other episodes are competing for top spot in my rankings. What I’ve noticed is that the episodes where the entirety is spent finding a diagnosis are my favourites, and this is no excuse. The added storyline of House being treated himself and having to navigate between reality and hallucinations makes for a great episode.

Rating: 4.5/5

Broken (Part 1 & 2)

House fights his doctors, the staff and his fellow patients when he’s forced to stay in the psychiatric hospital under threat of permanently losing his medical license.

As mentioned above, my favourite episodes are about uncertain diagnoses, turns out that my least favourite episodes are those with no patients at all. This, combined with my borderline hatred of Lin-Manuel Miranda, makes for my least favourite episodes out of all fifteen that I watched.

Rating: 2

One Day, One Room

To punish House, Cuddy banishes his to the clinic. While dealing with a rash of suspected STD cases, he realizes one of the patients is a victim of rape. In the end, to deal with the patient’s trauma, House may have to deal with some of his own.

I think the fact that I only watched this episode two days ago and that I can’t recall any of the plot speaks volumes about its quality; perfectly average.

Rating: 3

Euphoria (Part 1 & 2)

When a police officer with a gunshot wound to the head and uncontrollable laughter is admitted, House and the team are baffled. When Foreman begins showing the same symptoms, they race to determine the cause of the illness before Foreman’s condition takes the same path.

This is another of the episodes competing for my favourite. The performances from Omar Epps and Scott Michael Campbell are what make these episodes excel.

Rating: 5

Help Me

Cuddy, House and members of the team join forces with a search-and-rescue team to provide medical attention at the scene of a crane collapse.

This is another satisfactory episode, it isn’t bad but it also isn’t great. I enjoy the change in scenery from the hospital while retaining the same urgency and feeling I also really enjoy seeing House mirror the patient’s desperation and struggle. This episode also highlights a rare instance of House’s emotional response to his patient which is quite refreshing.

Rating: 4

Birthmarks

House tries every delaying tactic available when Wilson forces him to attend his father’s funeral. Meanwhile, the team tries to find the cause of a young woman’s abdominal pain and hemorrhage.

Easily my favourite part of this episode is the relationship between House and Wilson. Despite that, the storyline involving House’s father is less interesting than the hospital storyline. Are we seeing a theme yet?

Rating: 3

Detox

A teenage boy is admitted when he starts coughing up blood. Meanwhile, House tries to prove he isn’t addicted to Vicodin by betting a week without it, but when he suffer withdrawal symptoms, his team starts to lose confidence in his judgement.

This is another mediocre episode that only has one solid benefit, that being showing the audience the extent of House’s addiction as well as his extreme stubbornness.

Rating: 3

Autopsy

A nine-year-old with terminal cancer who is hallucinating comes to the hospital. House thinks her bravery in the face of imminent death is actually a symptom of her condition.

I’ll be honest, this episode is only worth watching for the surgery scene where they can finally diagnose the patient. Other than that, it’s pretty bland.

Rating: 3

Babies and Bathwater

While House and his team scramble to treat brain and kidney dysfunction in a pregnant woman, Vogler is on the warpath to get House fired.

Like Autopsy, this episode is pretty standard, but unlike Autopsy this episode doesn’t have any major events saving it from mediocrity.

Rating: 3

Airborne

House and Cuddy are flying back from an international conference in Singapore. While en route a mysterious disease strikes one passenger and an epidemic unfolds, causing House to diagnose in mid-air. Back in Princeton, Wilson leads House’s team when a middle-aged woman seems to be suffering from her recent decision to live life to its fullest.

This episode has the best dynamic between House and Cuddy of all the episodes I watched. Along with this, I also tend to enjoy the episodes where they have to do field work in order to diagnose a patient. Overall, it’s a pretty good episode.

Rating: 4

A Pox on Our House

After a 200-year-old medicine jar found on an off-shore shipwreck shatters in a teenage girl’s palm, she is admitted with symptoms similar to smallpox, and the CDC issues a lockdown.

The opening of this episode is very strange, so much so that I thought I was watching the wrong thing for several minutes. Apart from that, there isn’t much that particularly stands out about this episode.

Rating: 3

Lockdown

When a newborn disappears from the nursery, the hospital goes on lockdown, preventing anyone from entering, leaving or moving within the hospital. While House and his team members are trapped in various parts of the building, new insights about the team’s personal histories, relationships and regrets surface.

The first thing I noticed about this episode is how to colour-grading is all off, but that may be a symptom of the shows evolution and not a mistake. Being a character-based episode, it wasn’t the easiest to follow without watching everything before it, but it is written well enough to fill in the details that are necessary.

Rating: 3

Lines in the Sand

A ten-year-old boy begins screaming in pain, but nobody knows why, because he is autistic and cannot explain. House refuses to use his office because it has new carpet.

This was the first episode I watched, and it was a fantastic introduction to the show. It isn’t anything special in the grand scheme of things, but it served its role of being a good jumping off point; even though that was all coincidence.

Rating: 3

Did I like this show? Overall, yes. While a lot of the episode where mediocre, I still had fun watching it.

Will I continue watching? Yes, I’m not sure if I’ll end up watching all eight seasons though.

#The TV Show Trials #House #House MD

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amphtaminedreams · 5 years

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50 Films You’ve Got to Watch

Hi to anyone who’s reading,

I thought I’d take a break from the fashion posts to ramble on about something else that I’m really interested in for a hot minute. And I say ramble with intent, because I do go ON.

The topic is film and I thought that I’d make a list of my 50 must watches. These are movies that I feel had the biggest impact on me which means, yes, I do have tattoos referring to a couple of them, lol. My genre of choice is usually horror and although there has been a bit of a “horror renaissance” and a shift towards prioritising good quality storylines over jump scares in recent years, on the whole, they typically aren’t the most highbrow films out there, so there aren’t THAT many on this list. Most of the horror films I listed are just genuinely good quality rather than a straight-up gorefest or anything too terrifying, however, I’m not that easily scared so if you did fancy watching any of the films I mentioned, take that with a slight pinch of salt!

Also, this isn’t anything to take too seriously. I really like movies and cinema but I’m also not a movie critic and this is more of a hobby than something I want to pursue. Like, I’m completely aware of how unrealistic working in TV or film is as a career if your family isn’t loaded. Very aware. Painfully aware you could say (imagine me sighing as I’m writing this). That being said, part of me does want to do a ranking of every film I’ve seen in 2019 at some point this year, so if anybody else is interested in this kinda thing let me know!

Lauren x

50 Films You’ve Got to Watch:

1. Black Swan (2010)

“I felt it. Perfect. It was perfect.”

I watched Black Swan years ago now and I still remember how disturbing I found it and how exciting that was to me. I was probably a bit too young (young enough that my mum felt it necessary to cover my eyes during the Natalie Portman/Mila Kunis sex scene, lol) but even then I could recognise that it was a beautifully haunting film and Darren Aronofsky has gone on to be one of my favourite directors.

2. Jennifer’s Body (2009)

“And now, I'm eating your boyfriend. See? At least I'm consistent.”

Engrave it on my tombstone: JENNIFER’S BODY DESERVED BETTER. I fully believe that if this movie was released in 2019, it wouldn’t have faced half the criticisms it did back in 2009. It genuinely was ahead of its time. Megan Fox? As a boy-eating, demonic cheerleader? And Amanda Seyfried? Some of the most ICONIC DIALOGUE EVER? It should’ve invented a GENRE. Instead it got paid DUST. Yes, when I write in caps lock, my internal voice is YELLING. I feel passionately about this, okay?!

3. La La Land (2016)

“I guess I'll see you in the movies.”

Again, maybe it’s a basic film bitch opinion to have but I adored La La Land. I saw it at the cinema and spent the last 20 minutes of the film sobbing, only to find my mum and sister distinctly underwhelmed. I indignantly ranted back then to them how perfect a film it was and I’m going to do the same thing now so if you are reading and you didn’t like it, then you should probably just move on because I wouldn’t want to read myself banging on about Emma Stone again for several paragraphs either (don’t worry, I’ll try and keep it to one). I can’t help it. This film was just TOO REAL! Like, in every way but the actual plot and characters, La La Land has the dreamlike quality of a fairytale. The colours are rich and thick and always complimentary, the musical sequences are either like Disney songs or lullabies, and Emma and Ryan Gosling are made for each other. But then life and ambitions and resentments get in the way. And that’s the real part! That’s why it’s so bloody good!

4. Easy A (2010)

“People thought I was a dirty skank? Fine. I’d be the dirtiest skank they’d ever seen.”

And so we arrive at the movie that actually began my love affair with Emma Stone. Iconic. Iconic in every way. The bad reputation montage is cinematic excellence. For real, though, this is so underrated as a coming of age movie. Like don’t get me wrong, Mean Girls is everything (I easily could’ve included it on this list but I feel like it’s just a given that anyone who grew up in the noughties loves that film) but Easy A deserves just as much credit. It has Penn Badgley, one of the few celebrity males I care about! Amanda Bynes! Aly Michalka! Lisa Kudrow! Did I mention Emma Stone?

5. Kill Bill (2003)

“Now, if any of you sons of bitches got anything else to say, now's the fucking time!”

If I had to put any of these films as my singular favourite, it would probably be the first Kill Bill. Controversial, I know; even my dad introduced it to me as the weaker of the two. To list any Quentin Tarantino movie as the one that inspired you to want to be a director is probably a very cliche film student thing to say BUT I’m not a film student and I’ve put my directing pipe dream permanently to one side, thus, coming from me it’s not as hackneyed a statement. Or so I tell myself, lol. Basically, I was in awe of Kill Bill from start to finish. The colourisation is a dream, from the crazy 88 scene to the final fight between The Bridge and O Ren Ishii, and I particularly remember loving the animation sequence despite that not really being my kinda thing. I was just so impressed with how seamlessly something so out of place, considering the live action format of the rest of the film, fit in with everything else; even the scenes that should be absurd instead work with the comic book style narrative. Uma Thurman is of course amazing and iconic af but Lucy Liu as O Ren Ishii is my favourite thing about this film and the line I chose gave me all the bad bitch energy I need to, I think, get me through the rest of my time on this planet. If not, the tattooed version of this still I have on my arm should hopefully do the job. Yep, I truly ascended to a divine level of basic film hoe with that life choice.

6. Marie Antoinette (2006)

“This, Madame, is Versailles.”

The first Sofia Coppola film on this list, I love this woman’s work to death. Regardless of the content she’s working with, the end result always gives me the feeling I’m watching an extended music video. They always have this almost dreamlike quality to them and everything from the colour palette to the camera movements to the soundtrack in Marie Antoinette is tied together perfectly.

7. Mother! (2017)

“You never loved me. You just loved how much I loved you.”

I was tense throughout the entirety of Mother. As a socially anxious, obsessively tidy control freak, this whole film was like something from one of my nightmares; think unwanted house party on crack. I was mentally screaming along with Jennifer Lawrence for all of those people to get out, whilst simultaneously just staring at her face because she is so fucking gorgeous! Even when she’s completely lost it! Totally unrealistic but it makes for some really pretty shots! And then there’s the ending which left me kind of like “what the fuck did I just watch?” Which is what Darren Aronofsky films do best. They’re terrifying but also quite beautiful and Mother is no exception.

8. Gerald’s Game (2017)

“Everybody's got a little corner in there somewhere. A button they won't admit they want pressed.”

I finally got round to watching this for the first time the other day and I absolutely loved it. It probably helps that the last Stephen King adaptation I saw was Pet Sematary, so despite the praise this got at the time, my expectations weren’t super high, but I think this really is a perfect horror film. It’s clever, doesn’t rely on jump scares, and the creepy scenes that are in there really get under your skin. It drags a little in the middle though it’s beautifully shot, acted and has one of the few “body horror” scenes in a horror that’s actually made me cringe.

9. A Beautiful Mind (2001)

“I think that's what it's like with all our dreams and our nightmares, Martin, we've got to keep feeding them for them to stay alive.”

I don’t want to say too much about this film and spoil the plot, so I’ll just say that it’s incredible. Devastatingly sad but also wonderfully hopeful at the same time, and solidified my interest in psychology! I could watch Jennifer Connelly all day.

10. Alien (1979)

“This is Ripley, last survivor of the Nostromo, signing off.”

As a horror fan, I don’t think I need to explain why this film’s on the list. It’s been raved about and video essayed and called a pioneer of the genre ad nauseam. Again, not that this is really anything new but part of what I love about this movie is the context of its release and success; before Sigourney Weaver’s portrayal of Ellen Ripley, it was a rare occurrence to have a female protagonist in an action-based movie. Alien really paved the way for women to take up space in a previously male-dominated genre.

11. 10 Cloverfield Lane (2016)

“Crazy is building your ark after the flood has already come.”

I saw this for the first time at the cinema and pretty much went in blind. I hadn’t seen Cloverfield but I love Mary Elizabeth Winstead (Final Destination 3 was always my favourite of the franchise, lol) and there wasn’t really anything else on worth seeing, so my sister and I chose this and it was an experience. Like, of all the films on this list, this is probably the one that had me most on edge and I’m not sure watching it on your laptop on Putlocker will do it justice. You need the curtains pulled to, the volume way up and complete silence.

12. American Psycho (2000)

“Try getting a reservation at Dorsia now, you fucking stupid bastard!”

There isn’t a dull moment in American Psycho. Every line is quotable and every scene is straight to the point. I feel like this film is a masterclass in that Stanley Kubrick quote about editing where he says he liked to get rid of everything that was not absolutely vital to advancing the plot or the audience’s understanding of the character in any way. Plus, the ending is trippy af! Or maybe I’m just a bit oblivious to something that was quite obvious throughout, who knows. Either way, what the final scenes really mean are fun to think about.

13. The Descent (2005)

“I'm an English teacher, not fucking Tomb Raider.”

Okay, so I literally just watched this the other day and had to begrudgingly remove Silent Hill to make space for it (I KNOW it was critically panned and I KNOW the video game is better but I liked the visuals, OKAY!?) because The Descent is truly one of the best horror films I’ve ever seen. Before we even get to the supernatural element of the creatures, which are genuinely creepy for once, there’s a party bag of other phobia-inducing sequences that had me emotionally exhausted within the first half hour alone. Claustrophobia, darkness, heights, actual cringeworthy body horror, The Descent has something for everyone. The way it utilises space (or lack of for that matter) and darkness and panicked camera pans makes you feel as if you are really down in the cave with the characters. To add to that, I was actually rooting for all of them too; it probably helped that they were English rather than the typical American slasher cast but I found them to be a believable and likeable group of women. I truly did want them all to get out alive *spoilers*, which only made the ending all the more devastating and although the general narrative is quite predictable, the way in which things get wrapped up left just the right amount of shocks and questions to leave you reeling.

14. Eighth Grade (2018)

“Gucci.”

No film has ever captured what it’s like having social anxiety during “high school” (it’s called secondary school here in England, I know, but you get me) better than Eighth Grade. A tribute to the feeling of never quite fitting in and wishing you knew how to do what everyone else seems to be able to do naturally, it encapsulates that awkwardness with an accuracy that is really impressive considering that 1. it’s Bo Burnham’s first film, and 2. he’s not...like...a 13 year old girl. It is just as funny as it is sad and Elsie Fisher is great and so, so believable. Girl should’ve won some kind of Oscar.

15. American Beauty (1999)

“I don't think that there's anything worse than being ordinary.”

I wavered on whether or not to include this film on the list due to the Kevin Spacey controversy and decided that I had to with the disclaimer that I watched it quite some time before the stories about him came out and won’t ever watch any of the new things he inevitably ends up doing (because Hollywood has a notoriously short memory when it comes to the actions of disgraced male actors, lol). You can’t deny the amount of talent and skill that went into making a film so graceful and elegant and yet in equal parts unnerving, and I don’t think we should refuse to acknowledge the achievements of everyone else on that set because of Spacey’s behaviour.

16. Bandersnatch (2018)

“The past is immutable, Stefan. No matter how painful it is, we can't change things. We can't choose differently with hindsight. We all have to learn to accept that.”

As I was watching/playing through Bandersnatch, I didn’t necessarily love it. I think I’m echoing a common sentiment when I say that I was kinda confused. I was desperately trying to *spoiler* avoid the option of the protagonist murdering their dad (he seemed like a nice guy!?) but somehow always ended up there by their logic. So I watched most of the endings and then I went on and busied myself for the rest of the evening. AND I COULDN’T STOP THINKING ABOUT IT. One minute I was completely deluding myself into believing the whole parallel universes thing was true and that I should test it out (don’t ask), and then the next I was thinking how disturbing it was that we’d been basically been inside the head of a person experiencing a mental breakdown severe enough for them murdering their dad, who had only ever wanted to help when you think about it objectively, to seem rational. The confusion started making sense within the context of the experience of the protagonist and our role as the audience and though I hadn’t realised it at the time, I’d been completely absorbed in the episode. Maybe the confusion wasn’t intentional, maybe I’m giving Charlie Brooker too much credit based on the recent couple of series of Black Mirror BUT I can’t deny that Bandersnatch left a huge mark on me, and after all, this is the man who wrote White Christmas.

17. Get Out (2017)

“White girls. They get you every time.”

Going into this film, I was cocky. I’ve gotten pretty good at predicting what’s going to happen in things, probably just because I watch too much TV, but from the trailer I was sure I knew exactly what was going to happen. And then, I was completely blown away. The ending was SO SMART, in terms of both the within universe storytelling and also the metaphorical narrative/commentary on the way our society treats black men and women. Like those early episodes of Black Mirror, it had me like “how the fuck did Jordan Peele think of that!?”. I can only dream of being as creative in my writing one day. Even little plot points like where the “police” car turns up at the end and your stomach sinks and you realise the intention of that is most likely to help you empathise with what the average African-American person feels in their day to day life when police make themselves present, what with institutional police brutality and racial profiling; it’s clear so much thought went into this script.

18. Ghost Stories (2017)

“It's funny, isn't it? How it's always the last key that unlocks everything.”

I don’t have all too much to say about this one apart from that I love a well-constructed English horror. I feel like it’s something we don’t do all too often and to be honest, I’m struggling to think of many English horror films in the first place. Ghost Stories is a great example of why we need more; it’s smart and spooky and folky without hitting you over the head with all those elements and Andy Nyman is a perfect lead. Love a bit of Martin Freeman too.

19. Girl, Interrupted (1999)

“Crazy isn't being broken, or swallowing a dark secret. It's you, or me, amplified.”

Maybe this is the 13 year old black and white Tumblr girl in me jumping out but I still adore this film. I know it’s not necessarily the most critically well received but Winona Ryder, Angelina Jolie and Brittany Murphy are 3 of my favourite actresses and I do love the script. I also like the way that Borderline Personality Disorder was characterised in Winona’s character Susanna (I’m wavering on whether to call her a character as if I recall correctly the book was based on the author’s real experience) in that it was quite subtle and that she wasn’t portrayed as manipulative, or aggressive or basically, as the villain, which I feel is usually the go-to. It focussed more on the mood aspects and the way that people with BPD tend to latch onto and idealise others, as Susanna does with Lisa, and these are both things that I have personally struggled with in the past.

20. Hereditary (2018)

“All I do is worry and slave and defend you, and all I get back is that fucking face on your face!”

It was hard to find a quote that encapsulated what makes Hereditary so great because so much of it is about what isn’t said, if that makes sense. It’s a lot of pained silences and resentful looks and horrified screams, and doesn’t that sound like a fun time? Honestly, it’s not necessarily, lmao. Shocker. It has you feeling like something awful is about to happen the whole time, deep in the pit of your stomach, but I like that in a film, when it does make you properly feel. Ari Aster gets slow-burning dread just right in his exploration of dysfunctional families and grudges, with a few heart-sinking shocks thrown in for good measure all without overdoing the jump scares. There are a lot of deeply unnerving “supernatural” moments but there are just as many horrifically realistic familial conflict scenes that give you that whole “something is wrong” gut instinct in equal measures. It’s been a year and I’m still so angry that Toni Collette didn’t get an Oscar nomination for her performance, because it was really the perfect opportunity to break down the invisible wall between horror and critical recognition. On a more positive note, I loved Midsommar too (not as much as Hereditary but it was still a trip) and I cannot wait to see what Ari Aster does next. Once again, I’ll be in the cinema on opening night.

21. Heathers (1988)

“Dear Diary, my teen-angst bullshit now has a body count.”

Heathers is iconic in every way: the outfits, the cast, the lines. I mean, the acting can be a bit iffy at times but I honestly think that without Heathers, Jennifer’s Body might never have existed and that’s a world I wouldn’t want to live in. There was so much choice when I was picking a line to summarise why I like it so much and of course, “fuck me gently with a chain saw, do I look like Mother Theresa?” deserves an honourable mention. You almost made it bby. The TV remake? We don’t speak of it.

22. Hot Fuzz (2007)

“The way we see it, it’s all for the greater good.”

It might not be the “artiest” movie ever but I’ve seen Hot Fuzz so many times and it never gets old. Though I used to love it when I was younger purely for the PG-13 gore, now I appreciate it for the absurdity and the ridiculousness and to be honest, the total believability of the plot when it comes to towns ruled by low-key hostile, doddery old white people. I should know, I live in one.

23. Inglourious Basterds (2009)

“You probably heard we ain't in the prisoner-takin' business. We in the killin' Nazi business. And cousin, business is a-boomin’.”

I wish I wasn’t a hoe for Quentin Tarantino films (I’ve felt personally attacked by many a poundlandbandit starter pack) but I am. The breakneck pacing, the tongue in cheek dialogue and the gore all make this one of my ultimate favourites. Also, I have a huge crush on Melanie Laurent. Yes, it’s the French accent. No, I don’t know the mechanics of how that works. I hear someone speak French and I want to marry them! I can’t help it!

24. Ingrid Goes West (2017)

“Are you actually insane?”

This seems like a random choice to have on the list seeing as it was never really that hyped up, nor did it receive masses of critical acclaim. It did get positive reviews but that was about it. However, as soon as I saw the trailer, I knew I had to see it. Months, and an £8 purchase from HMV later, I finally got to watch Ingrid Goes West and I loved every moment of it. Whilst Aubrey Plaza’s character, I feel, is an exploration of a lot of young women’s insecurities and self-doubts and fears, blown up to monstrous proportions (or maybe just mine, lol), and a 90 minute film about that doesn’t sound all that revolutionary, this one is as intense as it is stylish and darkly comedic and that’s what puts it on the map for me.

25. Insidious (2011)

“I like to call them travellers.”

So this film scared the ever-living SHIT out of me when I was younger and though I now consider horror my favourite genre and watch it on the regular with absolutely no qualms, 13 year old me was (not to use the world lightly) mildly traumatised. I genuinely couldn’t be home alone by myself or sleep at night without thinking the old woman ghost from the beginning was outside my room for a good 6 months or so. Like it literally exacerbated an already present sleep disorder to the point where my understandably frustrated-at-being-woken-up-nightly-by-her-panicking-daughter mother got me referred for CBT (to reflect on a time when I didn’t know what CBT or CAMHS was is…blissful, lol). And maybe because of that, in my mind, I still conceptualise it as one of the very few horror movies that has actually scared me, hence its place on the list. That scene where we first see that Star Wars looking red faced devil? I’d probably still nope out even now.

26. It Follows (2014)

“It could look like someone you know or it could be a stranger in a crowd. Whatever helps it get close to you.”

There’s not too much to say about It Follows, other than that it’s a good horror film and more importantly just a really good film. I feel it’s a crucial, early part of this warmly welcomed horror renaissance we are now fully in the thick of where writers are focussing less on making people gasp and more on actual good quality cinema. It’s a simple concept that leaves enough room for you to ask your own questions whilst still feeling somewhat complete, and not annoyingly open-ended. The shots are good, the characters are normal enough to be believable, and the colour palette is Fincher-esque; the muted tones perfectly complement the feelings of dread that run throughout. Whilst you don’t need to be concerned with what the whole thing is a metaphor of in order to enjoy the film, the possibility of there being that second reading of the narrative, for me, elevate it to a higher level. In other words, it’s got *Shrek voice* layers.

27. Juno (2007)

“I'm just gonna go ahead and nip this thing in the bud. Cuz you know, they say pregnancy often leads to…you know...an infant.”

I love Ellen Page. I love Michael Cera. Together they are the best thing ever. See, I’m not really much of a rom-com girl but I see this as less of a rom-com and more of a coming of age film with romantic snippets and great one liners. It’s sweet and whimsical and funny but also really fucking real in parts, and it’s definitely what I would consider a modern classic. If you haven’t watched it already, do!

28. Suspiria (2018)

“Love and manipulation, they share houses very often. They are frequent bedfellows.”

Witches! Ballet dancing! Decapitation! Tilda Swinton! What’s not to love? As soon as I saw the trailer for Suspiria, I knew I had to see it. Creepy but also beautifully shot and scored, it was worth the 8 month wait from the Venice Film Festival and eventual caving and watching on 123Movies after I couldn’t find the DVD on Amazon; I finally got to tick it off my watch list only to like it so much I had to add the original Suspiria back on.

29. Mulholland Drive (2001)

“I hope that I never see that face, ever, outside of a dream.”

Another film which had me like WTF by the end, I really recommend Mulholland Drive for anyone who wants to be vaguely creeped out and extremely confused at the same time. See, I really love a film where you spend the next few hours after watching researching all the different interpretations and reading interviews with the director. That sounds sarcastic, but honestly, I love it. It’s a moody, film-noir style mindfuck of a movie and even after doing my research I’m still quite baffled. That’s the best part.

30. Requiem for a Dream (2000)

“Purple in the morning, blue in the afternoon, orange in the evening.”

It took me a while to get on board with seeing Marlon Wayans in a serious role (I’ve seen White Chicks far too many times, clearly), but once I did, I was into it. To be totally honest, I don’t think there’s a single happy moment in this film; it comes up quite frequently as one of the most disturbing of all time, which I’m sure Aronofsky probably thinks of as another notch on his belt. Whilst imo, that’s quite a grandiose claim, Requiem for a Dream definitely stuck in my mind after I watched it. Even if you’ve never watched the film, the ending sequence is notorious for how fucked up it is and I do think it’s earned the infamy. What stuck out more to me, though, was how purposeful every shot and sequence felt in terms of trying to let you into the character’s states of mind, the short lived bursts of euphoria and the panicked downwards spirals. I think it will always be one of the most compelling films about addiction for highlighting how terrifyingly out of one’s control it can be.

31. Room (2015)

“No one is strong alone.”

This film made me cry buckets. Brie Larson and Jacob Tremblay are wonderful, and everyone involved deserved all the Oscar hype. Every line was so heartfelt and emotive, and I loved Tremblay’s voiceovers. To translate the stream of consciousness of a kid from page to screen in a way that it remains believable in spite of its wisdom (not like those tweets where people try to make out their kid just casually made some off the cuff scathing political jibe at the dinner table) is quite the feat and similarly, I’m in awe of how the director managed to communicate the pain and confusion of the characters on a level that transcended the physical confines of said room. The escape scene had my heart in my mouth. All this being said, I should really read the book because it’s supposed to be even better.

32. Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World (2010)

‘When I'm around you, I kind of feel like I'm on drugs. Not that I do drugs. Unless you do drugs, in which case I do them all the time. All of them.”

Michael Cera and Mary Elizabeth Winstead are two of my favourite actors and so it’s a given that Scott Pilgrim is one of my favourite films. It’s such a fun, easy watch and the video-game inspired directorial style makes it, in terms of cinematography, probably the most memorable Edgar Wright film on this list imo. The concept, based on the graphic novel, is quite a simple one but that doesn’t stop it being entertaining from start to finish. The rest of the cast is great too: Brie Larson, Anna Kendrick, Mae Whitman, Aubrey Plaza and Alison Pill (Ivy from American Horror Story, anyone?) All make appearances, plus Chris Evans. He’s Captain America or something, right?

33. Scream (1996)

“No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!”

The Scream movies were my absolute favourite when I was just getting into “horror” as a 13/14 year old because they were always pretty tame in terms of scares but nonetheless, always a trip. Though, controversially, I’d probably say I enjoyed Scream 4 just as much as the first one (I am a bit of an Emma Roberts stan), I chose the first one purely for how iconic it was and how ahead of its time. It mixed satire and horror in a way that hadn’t really been done in such a mainstream way before and made it possible for films like Cabin in the Woods and The Final Girls to do so well.

34. Shaun of the Dead (2004)

“Take car. Go to Mum's. Kill Phil, sorry, grab Liz, go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all of this to blow over.”

I’ve seen Shaun of the Dead way, way, way too many times and I’ll still probably watch it again the next time ITV decide to show it too. It makes me laugh, it’s got lots of good gore and it’s easy to follow. The perfect film to put on whilst eating a take away, as long as you’re not too squeamish, lol.

35. Silence of the Lambs (1991)

“Well, Clarice. Have the lambs stopped screaming?”

Jodie Foster’s portrayal of Clarice Starling makes her one of my favourite movie heroines of all time; quietly courageous, she was the type of female lead that really hadn’t cropped up all that much in the films that came before Silence of the Lambs. And despite its problematic handling of certain issues, it’s a fucking incredible film. The thing about Hannibal Lecter is that they don’t have to tell you that he’s always one step ahead, you see it for yourself (the elevator scene!) and so it kinda feels like he’s looking into YOUR soul too. The confrontation at the end between Clarice and Buffalo Bill is one of the most nerve-racking 15 minutes or so of film I’ve ever watched, and if I ever get asked to justify why I’m scared of the dark again, I’m going to point straight to this scene. Yes, I’m a baby but my fears are VALID!

36. Silver Linings Playbook (2012)

“I do this! Time after time after time! I do all this shit for other people! And then I wake up and I'm empty! I have nothing!”

As you can probably tell from my inclusion of Mother! on this list, I love Jennifer Lawrence, and this is probably my favourite drama film of hers. The way that she and Bradley Cooper portray two people struggling with mental illness is refreshingly honest in that it shows it can make you quite an unlikeable person at times, albeit someone who is just trying their best to survive. That being said, in spite of the subject matter it’s still a relatively light and easy-to-watch film. The diner scene in particular is a masterclass in realistic conflict and reaction, and I hate to be “ooo, edgy” but several of the lines did strike a really deep chord.

37. The Babadook (2014)

“Sometimes I just want to smash your head against the brick wall until your fucking brains pop out.”

The best thing that the Babadook does, much like It Follows, is instils a sense of deep seated dread in you before you even see the supernatural forces at work. The washed out colour palette, apparent emotional disconnect of Jennifer Kent’s (who also directs!) character, and the disorienting movements of the camera all help to create a lingering unease that is just as effective as the grossly uncanny appearance of the monster/ghost/creature/whatever-you-want-to-call-it himself. It’s obvious that Kent had a very clear vision of the story she wanted to tell and even more so that she is a very talented woman; I hope to see even more female directed horror films in the future if the Babadook is anything to go by. The way this film blurred the lines between the inner struggles of a grieving family and the outside supposedly paranormal influence was unsettling as fuck and to get into the psychology of a mother left on her own to raise a small child and how terrifying that might feel is something only a immensely intuitive and empathetic woman could do. Props to her.

38. The Craft (1996)

“We are the weirdos, mister.”

Not to sound all halloween-is-the-only-day-of-the-year-I-care-about VSCO girl (although that might actually be quite an accurate description of me to be honest), but if there’s one thing that sticks in my mind about the craft, it’s the aesthetic. It’s kind of what I aim to emulate in every aspect of my life, NBD. Seriously, when I was trying to pick a still, I was spoilt for choice. The rituals, the outfits, the witchy interiors; there’s this one GIF of Nancy, Rochelle, Bonnie (and maybe Sarah?) lighting all these gorgeous candles and if I could walk around with it permanently looping on my forehead, I would. And ignoring my shallow reasons for liking The Craft, it’s just a really good film. Nancy Downs is probably one of the most interesting female villains of all time and I’m obsessed with anything that explores magic and the occult. It’s equal parts dark and girly, not to use that in a derivative way at all, in that not only does it teeter on the line of being scary, it’s also a gritty exploration of female friendship, power and jealousy. If you are a halloween-is-the-only-day-of-the-year-I-care-about VSCO girl, definitely watch it; more power to you.

39. The Favourite (2018)

“All I know is, your carriage awaits and my maid is on her way up with something called a pineapple.”

I’d seen The Favourite twice within, like, a month of it being released in British cinemas and I do not have a single regret about that; well, maybe a minor regret in paying over £12 to see it in the Leicester Square Odeon with the assumption that the extra price meant fancy seats (it didn’t), but on the whole, I’m pretty happy with my life choices. Emma Stone, Olivia Colman, and the period Mean Girls comparison drew me in but I came back the second time for the costumes, the dialogue, the editing and Sarah Churchill, Duchess of Marlborough. Or Rachel Weiss, in other words. See, The Favourite is superbly casted in that Yorgos Lanthimos must have known we can’t help but see Emma Stone as the “good girl”/protagonist and so it took me a whole second viewing to see her character for what she really was, and realise The Favourite is in some ways less a story of Abigail Masham’s rise to power and more the tragic disintegration of Sarah and Anne’s relationship. I’m sure you can view the film both ways but to view it as the latter brings a whole new dimension to it and the ending, imo. I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t go into the film expecting some vaguely historical lesbianism and that definitely made for a slightly awkward birthday viewing with my family BUT I wasn’t at all disappointed.

40. The Killing of a Sacred Deer (2017)

“If you dig a hole in the yard, better make it a big one.”

This film is slow-moving, weird and the acting can be stiff at the best of times, and yet somehow all these things add to the (take a shot every time I say-) dread that builds throughout. You don’t know exactly how things are going to end, but you do know it’s not well. Like in his latest directorial entry of The Favourite, Yorgos Lanthimos excels in the realm of the strange and vaguely fantastical through his script, score and cinematography, and so even though the settings are quite mundane, The Killing of a Sacred Deer kind of feels like some macabre modern fairytale, the moral of which I can’t quite work out. I can’t imagine anyone playing Martin more unnervingly than Barry Keoghan and I’m never going to complain about Nicole Kidman, but it’s the imagery of the tears of blood, Steven’s children dragging themselves along the floor and the ending scene that stuck with me long after the film had finished. If you’ve got the patience and you enjoyed the style of The Favourite, there’ll definitely be something positive for you to take away from The Killing of a Sacred Deer.

41. The Orphanage (2007)

“Seeing is not believing. It's the other way around. Believe, and you will see.”

When I was first told by my year 11 Spanish teacher that we were going to be watching The Orphanage in class, I definitely didn’t foresee myself including it in a top 50 films list 5 years later and yet here we are. I mean, I shouldn’t have been surprised really as she did tell us it was good and I had frequently seen it included in lists of the best horror films but as with pretty much anything our teachers would put on as an excuse not to teach for a few lessons (I’m really NOT complaining here, they deserve the break and I would definitely do the same, lol), my expectations were definitely low. Side note, I also since found out that Bilbao seems like a pretty cool place and there was a reason she kept banging on about that too, and so moral of the story, teachers do sometimes have some decent recommendations BUT my assumption was that The Orphanage must be pretty tame for her to show it to us. Parents-even of 16 of year olds-love to complain, lol. And to be fair, it isn’t so much in your face scary so much as it is kind of tragic with an undertone of spooky but I really enjoyed it. I want to say that part of what I enjoyed about it so much was the mystery element but honestly I think a lot of that comes from the fact that it’s in Spanish so I had to work to follow what was actually going on.

42. The Ring (2002)

“I can't imagine being stuck down a well all alone like that. How long could you survive?”

The Ring does visuals better than any other horror. The contorted faces of Samara’s victims, the infamous tape and the shots of the well all have a staple in pop culture for a reason. Whilst I don’t find Samara herself particularly frightening, the lore and mythology surrounding her feels so authentically creepy; the tape in particular reminds me of the kind of weird YouTube video you might stumble across when you’re supposed to be trying to get to bed late at night and instantly hate yourself for watching. Naomi Watts is a compelling lead and though I was probably rooting for Sarah Michelle Gellar in the American remake of the Grudge more (I still low-key associate her with the live-action Scooby-Doo and I have no shame), to compare other noughties horror classics, on the whole The Ring is definitely the better quality movie.

43. The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

“I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy living, or get busy dying.”

The Shawshank Redemption is just an unequivocally good film. On paper, it doesn’t necessarily have any of the things that draw me to a movie in it, but it’s brilliantly acted, written and shot. It’s frequently cited as one of the greatest movies of all time and I think that’s a very fair statement.

44. The Shining (1980)

“Wendy? Darling? Light of my life. I'm not gonna hurt ya. You didn't let me finish my sentence. I said, I'm not gonna hurt ya. I'm just going to bash your brains in!”

I love The Shining. In terms of scares, not all that much happens in it, but what we do see (the corpse in the bath tub is fucking horrifying) undoubtedly leaves an impact. The score is so unnervingly perfect that I can still hear the sound that’s made when we see those 2…puppets? Costumed people? Basically some kind of weird furry activity-which believe me, makes sense if you’ve seen it-going on. And I only need to see a still of the Overlook Hotel and I can immediately feel the sense of claustrophobia and growing tension that Stanley Kubrick so effectively communicated. A lot of people shat on Shelley Duvall’s acting at the time and whilst she obviously didn’t match Jack Nicholson’s energy, she did come across as a woman genuinely traumatised which is sad when you do consider the effect that shooting the film had on her. With that aside, The Shining is a massively pivotal part of horror history and I’m very excited to see Doctor Sleep this year!

45. The Virgin Suicides (1999)

“Obviously, Doctor, you've never been a 13-year-old girl.”

It really is a toss up between Marie Antoinette and The Virgin Suicides when it comes to Sofia Coppola’s best film, and so of course I had to include them both. See, whereas Marie Antoinette could be the visual incarnation of an album like Marina and the Diamonds’ Electra Heart or Charli XCX’s Sucker (if you ignore the less than fortunate ending, lmao), The Virgin Suicides plays out more to the tunes of something less bubblegum pop and more breezy and mellow, maybe LDR’s Ultraviolence or Honeymoon. You could say in a way that this film romanticises suicide and you’d definitely have a point, but I think considering the fact that it’s based on a book and was made in a time when we were less aware of the damage popular media can do (I think there’s a similar point to be made about the way the villain of Silence of the Lambs’s gender is portrayed and linked to his motivation), I give it a pass. It does also kind of make sense for the film to take this approach; the Lisbon girls are viewed through the eyes of a group of boys who are infatuated with them but also ultimately know nothing about them. In a way, it’s almost a critique of the way these boys think and a commentary on just how stifling and confusing young womanhood can be. I think it’s a beautiful film and a perfect adaptation of Jeffrey Eugenides’ novel.

46. The VVitch (2015)

“Wouldst thou like to live deliciously?”

Is it sad that I have this quote tattooed on my back? Is it biased for me to say no? Because for me, just as much as the Virgin Suicides is about how stifling society’s expectations of young women and how they are supposed to think and act, The VVitch is about the demonisation of girls who go against this and how liberation and sexual freedom for so long were perceived as the result of some kind of satanic and deeply disturbing force at work rather than individual expressions of freedom and femininity. The ending is HAPPY, okay, and if you take away the misty, barren landscapes and the isolation and the paranoia and the baby eating witches and the accusations and the demonic goats, it’s kinda a dark feminist fairy tale to go against puritan panic. I mean, let’s be honest, *spoilers* Thomasin’s siblings were annoying AF. Not that I’m condoning child murder on any level, but you know. In a narrative context was it really so much of a loss when those little shits got the chop?

47. Thoroughbreds (2017)

“At the end of the day, I have a perfectly healthy brain. It just doesn't contain feelings. And that doesn't necessarily make me a bad person. It just means I have to work a little harder than everybody else to be good.”

I love Olivia Cooke. I love Anya Taylor-Joy. I love concise, cutting dialogue, the idea of middle class American social politics, and a little bit of (fictional, of course) murder thrown in there for good measure. Thus, I really love Thoroughbreds. If you watched it with the sound off, it’d be a Polo Ralph Lauren promotional film that gets really dark at the end, and what’s not to like about that?

48. We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011)

“What are these people watching, people like me?”

I still haven’t got round to reading the book this film was based on and I feel like that’s something I need to get on top of ASAP, because it’s been sitting on my shelf for a long ass time. However, based on the little I know about how faithful a film adaptation it is, I think Ezra Miller and Tilda Swinton were a wonderful pairing, and this is a film that’s all about the characters, so it’s a good job they were so well cast. Miller does a great job at getting right under your skin and answering a lot of my questions about what leads someone to commit the kind of horrific crime that his character, Kevin, does. Arrogance, done subtly, is hard to pull off but he nails it, and Swinton is very, very believable as a haunted, grief-stricken mother wrestling with the natural question of the part she played in her son’s actions and the scrutiny that comes with it. Not only that but from the offset, every part of the cinematography helps to convey the feeling of impending doom that builds right up until the climax. The colour palette in particular, which for the most part doesn’t stray too far from the mundane greys and bleak washed-out tones perhaps reflective of Eva’s state of mind, does a great job of foreshadowing what to come when it quite purposefully does take a diversion. It’s all about the red, apparently. Take note.

49. Whiplash (2014)

“Any fucking moron can wave his arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what's expected of them. I believe that is an absolute necessity.”

You honestly wouldn’t believe that a film about drumming could feel like a horror and yet here Whiplash is, leaving me on the edge of my seat and wincing for, like, 2 hours straight. Tonally it couldn’t be more different from the other Damien Chazelle film on this list (La La Land), and yet it flows just as seamlessly and has his same impeccable rhythm; every word, yell and snarl slots perfectly into place and every swivel of the camera is flawlessly executed. If you’re looking for an intense and fast-paced drama, I can’t recommend Whiplash enough.

50. Zombieland (2009)

“Twelve's the new twenty. Gun please.”

Zombieland has only one fault: that Jesse Eisenberg’s character wasn’t played by Michael Cera. But it has Emma Stone and Woody Harrelson so I’ll let it slide. Not much to say about this one other than it’s a wild ride from start to finish, but simultaneously easy to watch and probably the most lighthearted zombie film out there. Almost like The Hangover or something along those lines, but with the addition of the undead. It’s a hard film not to enjoy and I’m just really hoping they don’t fuck up the sequel.

DISCLAIMER: 90% of these stills are from Filmgrab, it’s an amazing website!

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poisxnyouth · 5 years

Text

neighbors. chapter 1. (d.d)

A/N: There are 3 shows that inspire this: Sex and the City, Gossip Girl, and Mad Men. 3 of my favorite shows ever. I haven’t written anything in a really long time and this is (essentially) my first David fic! Enjoy! If you feel like something isn’t in character or notice any inconsistencies or just plain don’t like it, don’t be afraid to let me know! I appreciate all criticism. <3 Thank you to @alrightinbed-betterwithapen for getting me into writing again!! Endless love to her.

Warnings: Drinking, implied underage drinking, and cursing. Nothing too crazy!

You had lived your entire life in classic Manhattan wealth. You were never groomed with the trivial perfect grades, perfect outfits, and Ivy League expectations that the kids in your school had to deal with. Your parents put you in a private school with uniforms, allowing you to choose what you wanted in life. This nonchalant parenting pushed you to meet the expectations your peers had set. It had, luckily, worked out for you. You maintained a 5.0 GPA throughout high school and did anything you could to meet Ivy League alumni through Manhattan’s elite. You breezed your way through Yale Admissions, just as your parents had, and majored in Psychology in conjunction with a minor in French. Your parents were very proud of you, of course, and you quickly got a job in Los Angeles fresh off the graduation stage. You were an intern at an advertising firm on Madison Avenue in high school, allowing you to gain interest and experience in the copywriting world. With a full book of advertising copy, your knowledge of psychology aided you in producing better work. You were now the youngest creative director in the entirety of Los Angeles at a top-notch advertising firm. You made good money and it came in fast, so fast that you had managed to go from a studio apartment in Downtown LA to putting a down payment on a $2 million-dollar house in the Hills (with some help from your parents). Everything had worked out as you had planned. You had (mostly) worked for everything you got, and you were proud of it.

Your friends had followed a similar path with varying backgrounds. Francine, from a poor family in Brooklyn, had been put in your school so she could have a promising future. She used it to her advantage. Tessa had come from an even richer family than yours, her father a real estate mogul; mother, an immigration lawyer. Sienna moved to Manhattan freshman year of high school, from a middle-class family with ultimately no connections in the Big Apple. It was fine, she quickly adjusted and met many people through you and your friends’ parents. All 4 of you had worked hard throughout the 4 years you had spent together, rotating sleepovers in you and Tessa’s penthouses, Sienna’s apartment, and Francine’s loft. You had, way too often, fallen asleep together with your heads stuffed in AP textbooks. You had all earned an Ivy League admission: You, Yale; Francine, Dartmouth; Tessa, Harvard; and Sienna, Princeton. You stayed in touch all of university, meeting up in the heart of Manhattan every Saturday to go shopping on Fifth Avenue. You made the distance work. Francine is now a graphic designer; Tessa is an intern at Vogue, hoping to soon be an editor; and Sienna is an archivist at the Met. You didn’t have time to keep up with social situations outside of those 3 women.

“We miss you in New York, Y/N! You need to visit! How’s that neighbor of yours coming along?” Your best friends are screaming into the tiny speaker on Francine’s phone. You can practically see the group of girls huddled together on a street in the Upper East Side, arms filled with shopping bags as they listen intently to your voice.

“I don’t know, guys. He’s cute. Like, really cute. I just wish I knew who he was. He’s so young! Like, our age at the most. What could he possibly do for a living? There’s always something going on at his house. I swear, yesterday I saw at least 30 people over there holding a bunch of balloons and fireworks went off.”

“Maybe he’s one of those Youtuber people?” Tessa suggested.

“Hmm…,” you’re flipping through your mail, phone balanced between your shoulder and ear. “He could be. He always has a camera in his hand. God, he’s hot.”

“Oh my god, Y/N, how are you so smart but so stupid? He’s a Youtuber!” Tessa chimed in once more.

“Is that supposed to be a big deal? Like, do they make a lot of money?”

“Uh, yeah. If they’re really big, they make bank. There are a few in New York. I think Casey Neistat is the biggest one on the East Coast, but most of the Youtubers live in LA. So, if he lives in your neighborhood, he probably is pretty huge.”

“I mean I don’t really care who he is – fuck, you guys!” you groan exasperatedly.

“What happened?” they questioned in unison.

“I got his mail on accident! I have to go over there! Oh my gosh, his name is David.”

“Oooo, Daaaavviiiidd!” they mocked. You separate your mail from his and huff in response.

“Y/N, are you seriously neighbors with David Dobrik?”

“I don’t know who that is, Francine. It only says David Smith on all the labels. I’m not going to worry about it, guys. He’s just eye candy. He’s too annoying as a neighbor.” Francine immediately reprimands you for not knowing who he is.

“Yeah, okay, Y/N. You’re gonna go over there, give him his mail, and go home and write about your wet dream of him. Imagine this on the headlines: Y/N Writes Fanfiction About Famous Youtuber?!” Sienna is laughing into the shared speaker.

“You guys are bitches!” you giggled, “I have to go do this. Pray for me! I love you!” They respond with I love you’s and making kissy noises into the phone.

You rang the doorbell nervously and smooth your hair down in the reflection of his glass door, fiddling with the corner of your neighbor’s envelopes in your hands. You can feel the corners going soft from your sweaty fingertips. You hear a throaty voice yell, “NATALIE! DOOR!” If that’s David, he already sounds like a dick. A pretty girl in her pajamas rounds the corner, smiling when she sees you. You’re slightly disappointed. This Natalie must be his girlfriend.

“Hey! What’s up?” she says as she opens the door.

“Um, I’m your neighbor, Y/N! I, um, I think I got your mail? But you don’t really look like a David Smith, so maybe not?”

“Oh, no! That’s us. It’s for my boss, David Dobrik. It’s his cover name.” “Boss?” you question, feeling a little nosy. She doesn’t seem bothered, it seems like she must explain this often. You hear his name and clock it, knowing full well you’ll most likely forget it.

“Yeah,” she admits sheepishly. “David’s my boss – I’m his assistant.”

“Oh! Cool,” you kind of want to keep the conversation going; she’s nice! “There’s always something going on here!” you laugh a little.

“Yeah, but you know David…”

“I actually don’t! What does he do?” She seems surprised.

“He’s a Youtuber! I’ve been his friend since we were little, so it’s really awesome to see him grow like this.”

“Oh, sweet! Is he single?” The question flies out before you can think twice. Your eyes widen a little bit, breaking eye contact.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That just came out-“

“It’s fine! Yes, he’s single. You wanna meet him? He’s a little busy right now, but-“

“Oh my gosh, no! I mean, I just see him sometimes and he’s really cute. I was just curious.”

As soon as you say this, the man comes from a side hallway in the house. He walks to the door as Natalie nods understandingly.

“Hey! Who’s this?” He recognizes you as his neighbor, but he doesn’t say it. He just wants to know your name.

“This is Y/N, she’s our neighbor,” Natalie says. His eyes widen a little bit as he’s shaking your hand.

“David. Nice to meet you,” he’s leaning into the door frame now; arms crossed, chapped lips, messy hair, sweatpants, and all. It’s nice to get a closer look at him. He watches your eyes as you scan him up and down, causing him to smirk and look away.

“You wanna come in?” he offers. Your heart almost stops.

“Oh, it’s okay – I don’t want to intrude, and I have to get back to work anyways,” you attempt to rattle off excuses. He cocks his head and looks at you again.

“What do you do?”

“I’m in advertising,” you say, playing with your hands nervously. His eyes catch it.

“How’d you get that gig?”

“Um, I grew up and went to school in Manhattan, got admitted into Yale and graduated with a degree in psychology. I interned with an agency in high school and I really loved it, so I used psychology to help me write better copy,” the words tumble out too quickly and you almost feel stupid to spill so much. You try to push it out of your mind; you worked for what you achieved, you’re allowed to brag. He almost seems impressed.

“You live alone?”

You nod, almost feeling like you’re being interrogated.

“David, just let her go home,” Natalie gives you an apologizing look. She wants to snicker at how flustered you became when he showed up.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Have a nice day, Y/N. You can come over whenever you want!” He’s almost shutting the door before Natalie stops him.

“Hey, can I get your number? We should hang out sometime.” You say of course and David’s watching as you type your number into her phone.

“Thanks! I’ll see you later, Y/N.” The door closes as you bid them goodbye and you almost want to die from humiliation. You facepalm as you walk out of their driveway.

You can’t stop yourself from speed dialing Francine’s number as soon as you walk through your front door. She picks up on the third ring.

“Hey, girl! How’d it go?”

“Are you still with the girls?”

“Yeah, I’ll put you on speaker,” she replies before you hear all the girls individually say their hello’s.

“You guys…I met him. Oh my god, he’s so hot, I think I’m going to cry. He’s a stunner.”

“What’s his name? Is he who I said he is? David Dobrik?” Francine asks, desperate to be correct.

“Um...His assistant said his name…I think that was it?”

“You’re going to gush about how hot he is, but you don’t even remember his name?” Sienna questions.

“I was too busy freaking out! When he introduced himself, all he said was David!”

“Wait, wait, wait, Y/N! Walk us through what happened,” Tessa says coolly.

I launch myself onto my couch with a big sigh before I begin explaining.

“So, Y/N seemed to be into you…” Natalie blurts later that night as David edits. He shrugs.

“David! You need to date somebody! She’s pretty!”

“You know I don’t have time! I don’t even get the vlogs up when I should.”

“Okay, and? All you do since Liza broke up with you is work! You know you deserve better.”

“Natalie, she’s probably not even into me, like, pretty sure she just has anxiety. She was fidgeting the whole time.”

“What do you mean, ‘She’s probably not even into me?’ She asked me if you were single!” Natalie mocks his voice, going deeper than she needs to. He rolls his eyes in response, wanting the conversation to be finished.

“Just think about it, Dave. She’s smart, she went to Yale for God’s sake! Obviously, she cares about her job, juuuust like you do! I think you should ask her on a date.”

“She has a different dude over like, every night,” he grumbles.

“Oh, so you pay attention? And so what? They could be coworkers. Don’t be stupid, Dave.”

“I’m not asking her out on a date,” he affirms.

“Fine, I’m inviting her over.” He rolls his eyes again, making it a point to force his eyes to go as far back as possible while telling Natalie to go ahead.

“Hey Y/N! It’s Natalie. You wanna come over and have a few drinks?” The text shows up on your phone as you’re about to go to bed. You can’t push yourself to decline the invitation. A few drinks sound nice, anyway. You had learned how to hold your liquor your sophomore year of college, going through a partying phase, spending nearly every possible free night at a frat house.

You get dressed (again) and make your way to David’s house, ringing the doorbell. You see David’s head on the couch as Natalie rises from her spot to come to the door.

“Hey! Come in!” you step in, recognizing it’s a shoe off house. You wordlessly oblige as Natalie makes small talk with you.

“So, how’d you end up in LA from New York?” She leads you to the kitchen, taking out a stout glass of the dark cabinets for the each of you.

“I kept copywriting through college, so as soon as I graduated, I sent my portfolio to as many advertising agencies as I could. The agency I work for now is actually an extension of the New York office I interned for in high school, so I guess someone in New York saw my book in the stack and pulled some strings.” Natalie has now worked her way over to the stocked bar of liquor, responding with multiple mmhmm’s.

“What do you drink?”

“Vodka.” She nods and nearly makes your glass overflow.

“You seem like you need it,” she says pathetically, handing you the cup.

“Oh, believe me, I do,” you admit, ingesting half the glass in one swallow. You wince a little bit at the taste.

Your eyes scan around the room for David, but it seems he must’ve left to go somewhere else in the house.

“So, you think David is cute!” She breaks the silence, knowing what you’re thinking, “I can hook you guys up. He needs somebody.” You blush and tap your fingers on the glass.

“Oh, I mean…Yeah, he’s cute. But I don’t really have time for anyone, I’m working a lot.” She leads you to the sectional couch, pulling a blanket over her lap. You sit a few cushions away from her.

“You sound like him!” It makes you laugh slightly. “I’m serious! That’s exactly what he would say.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He’s editing right now. It usually takes him all night.”

“Honestly, Natalie, I’ve never watched a YouTuber before or anything, so I don’t really know anything about this. Like, how big is he? And what is ‘big’ on YouTube?”

“He has 11 million subscribers, so that’s pretty big. I mean there are bigger people, of course, like Shane Dawson, but he’s good at what he does, and he works hard. He deserves everything he has.”

“Good for him,” you reply, finishing the rest of your drink. She nods her head, agreeing with you. You can’t help considering the similarities it seems like you two share. You’re both hard workers, earning (mostly) everything you have, and you’re both proud of what you do.

“Do you have any friends in LA?” Natalie questions. You shrug your shoulders, getting up to make yourself another drink and feel at home. You quickly pour yourself more vodka and return to your seat.

“Most of my friends I left back in New York. I miss them so much. I told them about David,” you admit in a whisper as she gasps, a smile spreading across her face.

“You did not! Oh my god, I really need to set you guys up now!” She’s laughing, smacking your arm jokingly.

“Shut uuuup!” You giggle, “I couldn’t help it! What would you do if you lived in another city, alone, and all of a sudden you got a cute, young, obviously successful neighbor? Whew! I couldn’t not spill it!” You’re starting to feel more comfortable in the conversation and as you continue chatting with her, the more you like her.

“What are their names?”

“Okay, so. I went to high school with all of them. There’s Francine, she went to Dartmouth and is a graphic designer. There’s Tessa, she went to Harvard and she’s an intern at Vogue. And then there’s Sienna, she went to Princeton and she’s an archivist at The Met.”

“Wow! All Ivy League.”

“We all did it together! I couldn’t have done it without them. I love them. Besides them, though, don’t really have any friends out here! I’ve never really needed more than those 3. I miss them so much.”

“Well, now you have me! I’m getting you a boyfriend, even if it’s the last thing I do,” she laughs.

“Are you and David from LA?”

She laughs into her drink, “God, no! Chicago. David and I were neighbors and went to school together since elementary school.”

“That’s so cute!”

“You haven’t known David Dobrik for almost 15 years! I swear, it’s like taking care of a baby,” she rolls her eyes.

“I HEARD THAT!” You hear a voice yell from a bedroom as you make a nervous face. What else had he heard?

“Fuck you, David!” He doesn’t respond as Natalie resumes your conversation.

“My friend, Francine, kept insisting that he was David Dobrik,” you whispered, “I don’t know how the hell she knew that. I swear, she has ESP or something. She’s just as busy as me, so it’s beyond me how she has time to watch YouTubers.”

“I mean, Y/N, he is pretty big. Like, are you sure you don’t just live under a rock?” You gasp mockingly.

“Yeah, probably. I’m a workaholic.”

“So, are you strictly a copywriter?” You shake your head no as you gulp down some of your drink.

“No, I’m a creative director. Basically, that means I give the creative presentations to the heads of businesses we represent. I also oversee all of the regular copywriters at the firm and approve everything.”

“Wait, who do you represent?”

“Um, I mean…Apple, Clearasil, Jaguar, Tesla, Maybelline, a few department stores, it really depends.”

“So, you’re the reason why David owns a Tesla?” You laugh at that.

“I mean, I could be. I don’t know. I’m just starting in the industry.”

“Holy shit. That’s so crazy!” You shrug your shoulders.

“It’s alright. I love what I do.”

“How does all of that work?”

“What? Like, the whole advertising thing?” She nods.

“So, basically,” you clear your throat, “if a firm drops an account, which is a company slash brand, or the account decides to leave a firm, then account men or women are trying their best to get a presentation for the company. Agencies are always trying to get bigger than others. The job of the account man is to have good relations with the account’s leaders, meaning they just go out on dinners or for drinks with them. They keep up appearances. It sounds easy, but I’ve seen account men cry when it doesn’t go well. While this is happening, copywriters are practically scrambling to come up with something to present. It’s chaos, but it’s so good. It’s the best feeling in the world, especially when you do win the account.”

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I mean, the hours can get pretty long, but it’s fine. I get paid well. I also get pretty much unlimited vacation and sick days, no one thinks twice about it as long as I’m not gone for weeks at a time. It’s great.”

“You’re so fucking lucky!”

You wave her off, “I don’t think so. I worked for it.” She nods again as David emerges from a bedroom.

“Hey,” he says, walking to the kitchen to grab a water bottle. Natalie looks at you, waggling her eyebrows with a giant smile on her face. You snicker a little bit and David notices.

“What’s up with the giggling? You guys talking about me?”

“No, David. Not everything is about you,” Natalie says as he throws his hands up in defense.

“I’m just saying, you guys went quiet as soon as I walked in.”

“Maybe it’s because you interrupted us,” you say, meeting his eyes. He stares blankly at you.

“I can go,” He says, smiling his stupid smile.

“We’re fucking with you, Dave. Sit down,” Natalie rolls her eyes.

“What are you guys talking about?” He plops himself down on the couch pretty far away from you and Natalie.

“Y/N’s job. She’s in advertising,” Natalie seems to be bragging for you.

“Uh, yeah, I know, Nat. She said that earlier.”

“Ugh, still, Dave! I’m impressed.” David doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know enough about you.

“So, you went to Yale?” he asks. You nod. It’s quiet for a few moments.

“Y/N, we should go to New York!” Your eyes widen at Natalie’s suggestion. You had only met this girl a few hours ago, and she’s suggesting going to New York with you? You’re surprisingly open to it, not allowing yourself to say no.

“I mean, do you want to? ‘Cause I can call in tomorrow morning and we can totally spend the weekend there! You can meet the girls!”

“Uh, Natalie, you forget I’m your boss-“

“I’m also your fucking friend! Just come with!” Natalie says exasperatedly.

“Okay,” David throws his hands in the air, “Fine. Get us some flights, Natalie.”

“I don’t have my debit card on me-“

“It’s fine, Y/N, I’ve got it,” David insists.

“What? No! I can afford it!”

“I didn’t ask if you could afford it! I’m paying,” he persists. It’s kind of hot. You reluctantly mutter an okay as Natalie grabs her computer.

You ended up going home, hurriedly packing a suitcase before returning to David’s 30 minutes later. While at home, you group Facetimed all of the girls.

“Girls, I’m coming to NYC! One small catch, though…David’s coming with.”

#david dobrik fic #david dobrik #vlog squad #vlog squad fanfic #natalie mariduena #david dobrik x y/n #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik x you #david dobrik imagine #vlog squad imagine #david donrik fanfiction #david dobrik fanfic

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migleefulmoments · 4 years

Note

"Hahaha. A friend pointed this out. W online shops too!" What does this even mean?! I don't know anyone in 2020 who doesn't online shop besides my 80 year old grandparents because they refuse to learn how to use a computer 😂 I don't get how Will, a 30 something year old man, online shopping is worthy enough for Abby to comment on it. I'm sure Chris does it too. And Darren.

On Nov 5, Darren wrote this post and the cc fandom lost their shit.

They decided that organizing 10 costumes for multiple events in two different states for two different people was not worthy of acknowledgment- especially since they wore several purchased costumes. They spent the next 30-ish days mocking her “online shopping skills” like the petty idiots they are and now they bring it up two months later.

Anonymous asked: this is funny, C posted a photo of beard, D posted photos with the beard. Almost like they were sitting next to each other and saying “ok ok I will say this”

ajw720 answered: The only difference, C controls his SM and the bearding, D does not, but they knew the Halloween post was coming when C posted his belated b-day wishes (not that he acknowledged they were late).

It really is, if you can remove the very human, tragic element, like a script for a really bad D Movie. C posts “Happy Birthday, Babe!” a day after the man’s actual b-day and “D” praises his fake bride for MAKING TEN costumes. Sure praise her if she actually designed them and sat with her sewing machine. No, she went online and ordered things (I doubt she even went to a store). And 3 couple costumes were cheap frankly. The only thought was how narcissistic she could be in their execution (as @flowersintheattic254pointed out even the Mario costume had a reason, it was a reminder of Japan and the fake encagement by referring to the ad that paid for their trip there).

And seriously how are people not questioning that she spent the entirety of her month picking TEN costumes? Who has time for this? I know, i know, a person whose only role in life is to play fake plus one.

I am just so tired by D in particular being utterly dragged down by the useless dead weight by his side and his team’s sole ambition to promote her and make her sound like a decent person.

If they wanted to praise her, maybe they should have forced her to participate in the zero waste initiative instead of sitting drinking by the pool or have her volunteer to help young girls who have been kicked out of their homes, or have been raped. Or pick any cause and truly volunteer her time to promote it. If she is not going to actually get a job and pursue a career, please force her to do something that is actually of value and contribute something good to the world. But to praise her for picking TEN costumes?

Praise that comes from a man who this year alone won three awards, is starring in a show he created and wrote the music for, has his first big movie premiere this week, is exec producer and star of a huge show on N/etflix, just announced his starring role with 2 A++ lists actors next spring on Broadway, celebrated the 5th anniversary of the festival he created, volunteered his time for the zero waste initiative, performed at several charity events, and was just yesterday name limited series actor of the decade. Where is the praise for him from his “bride”? He at least deserves it.

How do they not see how ridiculous it is for someone with D’s accomplishments in 2019 alone praise a person for purchasing TEN costumes for Halloween? And stans, how do you accept that this is right or normal. You really know nothing about him and have such little respect for him as a person if you continue to accept the character his idiotic team has created on his behalf. It is so far from the person he is and that he generally holds himself out to be when given the opportunity.

This isn’t about being a “gay fetishist” or “hating woman” this is about wanting for D to be fairly and accurately represented and no longer forced to participate in this stupid, life sucking game to promote a person that contributes absolutely nothing to the world. If you want to have a strong female role model, there are so many, i’ve talked about a few in the past few days (thus far Nancy, Lea, and Phoebe) and will continue to do so, but please stop worshiping a person whose sole reason you are speaking about her is her connection to D, even if you refuse to accept it is fake.

klainecentric Finished reading the funniest ig story of the day, the qween being praised for sitting in front of either a sewing machine or computer...bravo your majesty qween....your my hero well done.👏👏. And all I can think of is how irrelevant the statement D made about being an emotional horder, being a very private person and finally D saying he's lazy when it comes to social media, I'm internally screaming in frustration because yeah we know D wouldn't have written a post praising that lazy good for nothing waste of space but he's coming across as a lier and it's extremely damaging to his character as a person. I absolutely hate lying and every time another "private" moment is posted to the world is another small piece that's chipped away from what D has originally stated about privacy. PBB, nobody cares about your cheap arse highly flammable costumes you buy online, did you forget about your piano baby adult strip club. I'm sure there are still plenty of people out there you can hire to rub and flaunt their flanges all over the beer taps, why don't you keep busy on that instead. If you want to make costumes, I'm sure you can sew some mighty fine titty tassels together. It'll be cheap nasty, sound familiar.

souly So, let me get this straight. We should all praise a person for going online, looking up different costumes in online stores, putting those in their shopping basket and hitting “buy”? Because I do that at least once a week with other stuff. Do I get praised for that now? Pretty please? I’m doing good work there and buy a lot of stuff, therefore I must be the best person ever!

notes-from-nowhere You’re my Queen. Please, love me.

souly

(I think I got it right. I’m getting the hang of what said person is doing. Wheee! ;))

notes-from-nowhere You nailed it 🤣

ajw720 Yesterday I got a delivery of car food. And instead of his usual seafood mix up greats, I got him shrimp flavor. I’m awesome!!!!!

souly Oh, hey! I think we should all take pictures of whatever we bought online during the week or month and make individual posts on all of our social media accounts about it. Because, you know…

cassie1022 I picked up stuff I ordered online at Target and PetSmart. Does that count? Should I receive accolades because my cat will have fresh litter to do her business on?

souly Only if you post the pictures to prove it! ;)

ajw720 As soon as I get home. Pictures forthcoming. Shrimp cat treats and I also got a burgundy blanket for my new comforter!!! Life goals!!!!!!!!!!!

souly Okay, so, let’s see… What did I buy online during the past month that can be shared as pictures? Some things are gifts, so I obviously can’t post anything about those yet. But I think these here are safe.

Let’s start with one of my fav new shirts. (Excuse the grainy quality. I had to quickly edit it for privacy reasons. :p And yes, that’s a butterfly mirror.)

The rest are behind the cut to save your dash from drowning in too many pictures. ;)

cheekyface72 You’re my queen from now on…

ajw720 I think emmy/sag/gg/CC winner DC should write a post @soulypraising your awesome, amazing, unparalleled online shopping skills! You earned that praise. That cat toy is particularly spectacular.

*********************

Just A Taste of M’s Amazing Online Shopping Skills that are worthy of such Praise

ajw720

Super Mario with inflatable Dragon $54.66 (x)

Princess Peach $78.99 (x)

chrisdarebashfulsmiles. i can’t

flowersintheattic254. When you add the fact that the wedding was sponsored so heavily, and her history of outfits I think it shows Mi@rren is something that’s always been done very much ‘on the cheap’.

From work vacays (honeymoon included), RC ‘glue gun’ looks, thrift shoes and subsidized weddings.

It’s BUDGET BEARDING!!!

leka-1998. It’s not worth more than this, that’s for sure.

notes-from-nowhere We are so ungrateful. She worked hard to find the gloves.

I bet she had to click on another link to find them. She deserves another accolade.

ajw720 @flowersintheattic254 Budget Bearding! I LOVE It! (and something tells me D’s SW costume in particular was far cheaper than either of these).

souly That Snow White dress can be found for about $25 in a ton of online shops. I stumbled upon it even before Halloween way too many times. 😂

@notes-from-nowhere The plush question mark block can be found in a couple online stores like this one. She simply glued it onto some gloves - or asked L to do it with that glue gun of hers.

flowersintheattic254 Well funnily enough I think we may have confirmation that 🚽🚽 glued on the puppies so I guess YES to the question mark block too!!!

cassie1022 They can’t even glue things properly. Why am I not surprised?

leka-1998

So, so amazing. Bow to the kween and her not so helpful helper.

************************************

There are lots more...I figured enough of your brain cells died reading the ones I posted. On Nov 30 she is STiLL bringing it up”

Anonymous asked:

Whenever I see miarren gifset they always use the same quote underneath (the rolling the windows down quote) and at first I rolled my eyes and thought uh not that quote again, and I can't believe it took me this long to realise it's because there is literally no other quote that can be construed as loving. You can hardly put down "she's a big girl" whenever you make a set of gifs with M beaming and D looking like someone murdered the dog he's allergic to.

ajw720: And I love the Emmy quote as it was an absolute reference to his character who was a psychopath. Pretty telling if you ask me. But that reference is over their heads.

And pretty much the only one. Guess saying he’s a ball and chain kind of guy isn’t romantic. They can’t even take pooping exes as he clearly steered the conversation away from her. Lovely lady of many moons? Nah she sounds like a stranger. Saying nothing changes after marriage? Sounds boring. It’s a struggle. But hey she’s an excellent online shopper that he done got hitched to!!!

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 5 years

Text

Psycho Analysis: Thanos

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

The Infinity Saga was all building up to one thing, hinted at in The Avengers: Thanos. For years fans watched and waited, waiting for the inevitable payoff. But time went on, and Thanos did so little, and the fans got impatient and frustrated. This guy, he was being built up as the ultimate threat in the MCU, and he can’t even get off his ass and do more than cameo in Guardians of the Galaxy? Fans were obviously a bit nervous going into Infinity War, and it’s hard to blame them all things considered; Thanos had done a grand total of nothing across the entire past three phases, he had none of the Infinity Stones, and he sure hadn’t fulfilled his promise to do it himself he made in the stinger of Age of Ultron. What good could this guy possibly be?

Oh boy, you have no idea how good.

Thanos made his grand entrance as a major character by killing Loki and beating the crap out of the Hulk, and then spent the entirety of Infinity War showing us all that maybe it’s better he was dragging his feet for so long, because everyone would have been long dead if he didn’t. What’s more intriguing is how Thanos was such a well-developed and complex villain; perhaps they were just waiting for the right moment, the perfect time when creative freedom and good villain writing could come together to deliver the Thanos that the audience and MCU deserved.

Actor: Josh Brolin, a man you may know from The Goonies or as Deadpool’s best buddy Cable,portrays Thanos, and… honestly? I think this is the first performance I’ve seen in a superhero film in a long time that I genuinely think deserved an Oscar. Brolin just commands the screen and your attention with his voice, and he really sells that the big purple MoCap creation onscreen is a real, physical guy.

Motivation/Goals: Thanos has a very simple motivation: he wishes to wipe out half of all life in the universe, to make things perfectly balanced. It’s a relatively simple evil plan, but one that is grand in scale, as well as one Thanos does not himself see as evil; rather, he sees it as an act of supreme mercy, saving the universe from itself and restoring a level of order to the chaos that is life. It really cements him as a well-intentioned extremist anti-villain: the plan is, from a certain point of view, noble, it has somewhat good intentions behind it…. But at the same time it is flawed, insane, disturbing, and will do far more harm than good in the long run.

Thankfully, the movies don’t pretend that Thanos’ plan is a good, brilliant thing, and instead use his wholeheartyed belief that it is the right thing to do, that this is his burden to carry, to highlight what a broken, depressing man Thanos truly is. So bitter by his failure to save his people, his desire to vndicate his failure in his own eyes drives him to do the nost unthinkable act of genocide in a desperate attempt to prove he was right to a race that is otherwise long dead. It’s tragic, it’s insane, and it’s just a great motivation.

I think it’s worth addressing the two biggest groups of critics of the MCU’s version of Thanos: Those who think his goal is stupid, and those who are mad that he is not more in line with his comic book counterpart. The first group is arguably the more annoying one, because they seem to be unaware of what exactly entails an anti-villain, or even a villain in general. The thing with a villain is that, no matter how cool or sympathetic or interesting they are, you are not supposed to agree with them. You are not supposed to think a villain’s plan is good or intelligent, you are not supposed to say “gee they have a point here,” you are supposed to enjoy them for what they are but you’re not supposed to be on their side. That aside, the fact hs plan is crazy and stupid is arguably the point; he is a man stricken by grief he has internalized for so long he is incapable of seeing the horrendous flaws in his plans. He is the MAD Titan after all. In all honesty, his complete and utter inability to see the faults in his plan only makes him all the more tragic.

The other group… well, to put it nicely, I really don’t feel like the comic version of Thanos’ motivations would translate well to film. To put it more bluntly, I kind of find comic Thanos to have an insanely stupid motivation. He wants to kill half of all life so he can impress a girl (that girl being Death). And people call MCU Thanos’ motivation stupid? In the comics he’s basically just a superpowered dudebro who kills everyone because he gets friendzoned. He’s basically a galactic version of a school shooter, and it’s fine if you think that’s cool, but I frankly find that something that can only work in the very specific circumstances comics can provide, and even then I think there are more intriguing villains with the same motivations… like, you know, Darkseid, the villain comic Thanos rips off.

I will concede the latter at least have more of a leg to stand on, because having a preference in how a character is portrayed is a lot different than not understanding what good writing for a villain is, but lucky for them, the filmmakers decided to have their cake and eat it too and give us a Thanos in Endgame lacking the character development and complexity displayed by Infinity War Thanos, a Thanos so utterly furious that the Avengers are close to thwarting his plan that he childishly lashes out, blames the universe for not appreciating all he did, and deciding he was just going to restart the universe from the ground up in his own image, perfectly balanced. It is kind of nice to see a Thanos a bt more in line with the genocidal tyrant of the comics, but while this one has the more accurate motivation, he does end up coming dangerously close to generic doomsday villain territory.

Personality: The interesting thing with Thanos is how there are technically two of them: the Infinity War Thanos, and the Endgame Thanos who comes from an alternate timeline. Despite the two Thanos having the same basic goal, it is their personalities that truly differ.

Infinity War Thanos is a deep, rich, and complex character. He does so much that you don’t really see supervillains do: he cries, he feels shock, he displays a range of emotions that is frankly unprecedented in a supervillain. The Russos weren’t kidding when they said Thanos was the protagonist of Infinity War more than anything; he has an arc and gets more development than any single hero in the film does. There are so many great moments to point to – his adopting of Gamora in flashback, his backstory he gives to Strange, and of course crying after sacrificing Gamora – that showcase an amazing level of depth, but there are just as many moments that showcase that even despite that he is an insane, ruthless villain who is deluded into thinking his insane plan is what’s right. He is perfectly balanced, as all things should be.

Endgame Thanos is un fortunately due to his nature a little more flat as a character, and for the most part runs on the goodwill that his future self built up. As mentioned previously, he comes dangerously close to being a generic doomsday villain, but thankfully Josh Brolin manages to make him entertaining in his own right. I think one of the best moments is when he’s watching his future self’s death, and he clearly thinks the “I am inevitable” line is the coolest thing he has ever heard. Even if Endgame Thanos comes off as a bit less impressive as a character, he’s still a pretty good character. And when it comes time to throw down, this Thanos is infinitely more impressive, and there is his aforementioned petty reasoning to reset the universe.

Final Fate: Infinity War Thanos actually manages to make it out of his movie alive, sitting down and watching the sunrise on a “grateful” universe. At the start of Endgame, karma catches up with him, but shockingly, he died believing he won. They never undo the damage while this Thanos is still alive. He goes to his grave believing he has balanced the universe, and there is nothing the Avengers can do to fix it. For five years this holds true. Thanos won.

Endgame Thanos has a much more satisfying fate. After Tony makes the ultimate sacrifice and snaps his fingers, Thanos’ entire army suffers the fate he wanted to give half the universe. In a dark mirror of the final scene of Infinity War, Thanos sits down and bows his head in complete silence as he waits for the inevitable, his entire army crumbling to dust around him. If anything truly makes this Thanos as impressive as the one from the last film, it’s the death; there’s no screaming, no bitter last words, no cliché one-liners about how unfair it is… just silent, crushed defeat and acceptance.

Best Scene: The Infinity War Thanos has so many scenes that could be contenders, from fooling the Guardians on Knowhere, to killing Vision, to his battle on Titan… there’s just so much to pick from. But I think the scene where he sacrifices Gamora really encapsulates everything great about his character, the tragedy, the monstrosity, the fact he is so insane that he really believes what he’s doing is out of love. In that moment he truly is the most tragic, horrifying villain ever to grace the screen.

Endgame Thanos has a bit less interesting going on, but I think I would be remiss to not mention the incredible scene where, during the battle, he spins his blades like those of a helicopter. Yes, you read that right: they referenced Thanoscopter.

Best Quote: Infinity War Thanos is a veritable fountain of quotes. Every other word out of his mouth has become a meme. But frankly, for the sheer horror this line filled me when first viewng, I think I might just have to go with his immortal reply to Thor’s wounding him:

“You should have gone for the head.” *SNAP*

Endgame Thanos of course continues his predecessor’s memetic legacy, with tons of great, quotable lines, especially in his numerous evil speeches to the Avengers near the end of the film. The best might just be this quote, when Thanos decides to shed any veneer of being well-intentioned and dives headfirst into extremism:

"In all my years of conquest, violence, slaughter, it was never personal. But I'll tell you now, what I'm about to do to your stubborn, annoying little planet... I'm gonna enjoy it. Very, very much."

Final Thoughts & Score: Thanos is truly impressive. Somehow, some way, this character was able to exceed years of buildup and expectations despite having so little presence beforehand there were fears that he was going to be the biggest letdown in the MCU. They took one of the cheesiest comic book characters, a ripoff of DC’s greatest villain with a boner for the physical embodiment of the concept of death, polished hi, gave him depth and emotion, and unleashed him onto the world. And what’s more, they gave him focus, they give him tons of quotes, they gave him so many great scenes… they really went above and beyond to make sure no one was let down by the portrayal of Thanos. Hell, even if you didn’t like him as much in Infinity War, they go out of their way to please the other side and show how stupid his plan was in Endgame. We end up getting the best of both worlds with Thanos.

Still, they’re basically two entirely different takes on the same character, and so I’m rating them accordingly. Infinity War’s take on Thanos is easily a 10/10. He’s the MCU’s best, most complex, most well-rounded villain, a truly brilliant culmination of excellent writing and fantastic acting. Josh Brolin brings Thanos to life and injects him with so much personality that it’s really hard to even come close to him in terms of quality; I think the only villains who are really on his level are Ego, Mysterio, and Killmonger. If I do have any gripes with this Thanos, it’s that his fighting style leans far too heavily on the Gauntlet in this film, and he unfortunately ditches his awesome armor right at the start. Those are nitpicks, though; this Thanos is amazing otherwise.

Endgame Thanos, while certainly more imposing and giving a very awesome final battle, kind of loses something considering this is not the Thanos we know and love (to hate), technically speaking; this is an alternate universe Thanos from earlier in the timeline, and even though we know what he’s like, he still comes off as bit underdeveloped. Still, he has enough quotable lines and cool moments that I feel confident in giving him an 8/10. I feel like I can’t rate him any higher because, again, he’s really walking that thin line between a good villain and a generic doomsday villain. At the same time, I can’t rate him any lower, because after all… they referenced Thanoscopter.

Thanos has really set the bar high for future MCU villains, but not only that, he has set the bar high for when the DCEU finally brings in Darkseid. How ironic that the character made to rip him off has now overshadowed him in cinema, and will be the biggest obstacle Darkseid must overcome to be taken seriously as a good character. Of course, DC can win this battle easily by shelving Darkseid for now and just making Mr. Mind the ultimate big bad for the time being; evil space caterpillars that speak with a little radio are always going to be the best villain in any argument.

As for the MCU itself, it should be in safe hands for now. Thanos really showed how polished and complex a villain can be made, and despite tripping up with the mediocre villains in the Phase One holdover Captain Marvel, the MCU was able to deliver a fantastic villain in Far From Home wirth Mysterio, who is easily one of the must fun and entertaining villains in the franchise. I think the MCU going forward has to just be careful not to try and overextend themselves to “top” Thanos, and for the most part it looks like they aren’t trying to do that, with Zemo and Mandarin being the biggest bad guys explicitly confirmed so far. Unless Doctor Doom or Dracula decides to pop in, I think they’re going to be sticking to working on and making entertaining more low-key villains, and frankly I think that’s smart; villains like Thanos need to be used sparingly.

Whatever the future holds for superhero movies, Thanos leaves behind quite a legacy, acting as the perfect capstone to the first decade of major superhero cinema. And what a capstone he is.

#Psycho Analysis #Thanos #Infinity War #Endgame #Marvel #MCU

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jesusbukkake-blog · 6 years

Text

Girls Scream Aloud story

Girls Scream Aloud is a story written by a man named Darryn Walker from South Tyneside that resulted in him getting taken to court for obscenity.

You can read the Girls Scream Aloud story online here because I realised there doesn’t appear to be anyone else who has created a mirror of it.

Obviously, I think it is absolutely terrible that anyone would be arrested for writing text and publishing it online.

This following story was not written by me in any part. Personally, I don’t think it’s very good. But fuck how my home and native land treat free speech.

Publishing this is definitely in the public interest. Motherfuckers.

This is the entirety of the text as it was originally posted on asstr.org

Everything beneath this sentence is his original post.

Girls (Scream) Aloud (FFM, nc, rp, inc, v, tor, bd, sn, mutilation)

By Blake Sinclair ([email protected]) ________________________________________ ________________________________________

WARNING! This story contains explicit imaginary descriptions of the rape torture and mutilation of five of the sexiest girls in pop today.

The following is a work of erotic/sadistic fantasy set in a world in which women are disposable sex objects that exist solely for the pleasure of men. It contains themes of extreme sexism, misogyny, torture, rape, mutilation, dismemberment, murder, execution and male supremacy over women. I cannot stress enough that this is STRICTLY FICTITIOUS and in no way reflects my own views or opinions towards women.

Under no circumstances should the violent situations of this story be re-enacted in any way. ALWAYS practice safe sex with consenting partners of a legal age.

The characters in this story are fictitious and any similarities between any persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

If you are easily offended by the themes I have described above then please read no further. If you are unable to differentiate between fantasy and reality and your actions are in any way likely to be influenced by these fictional events then you are not the sort of person that I want reading my work and you should commit suicide before an innocent person gets hurt because of your sick and perverted persuasions. For those who enjoy gratuitous sadistic erotica in the extreme and realise that this is nothing but fantasy, please read on….

***

Prologue

As much as I had always hated the sound of Girls Aloud’s so called music, like nearly every other man in the world I was willing to endure it in order to see their luscious soft female bodies on TV clothed in very little. How I fantasized about how I would kill five such sexy girls.

My most recent girlfriend, Lisa had looked a bit like Sarah Harding which my only reason was for ever dating her and for killing her in my favourite way when I got sick of her – to cut off her legs and tits whilst she was tied down naked and helpless.

Strangely enough though, in the last month nobody had heard anything from Girls Aloud. They had simply not turned up for an organised concert with no explanation.

I didn’t give it much thought as I would at least be spared that racket of their so called singing.

It was purely by chance then, that I stumbled across the most fantastic eBay offer I had ever set my eyes upon: Genuine Girls Aloud body parts plus a DVD of all five girls’ murder with every purchase.

I studied the images closely: Five pretty heads; five pairs if well formed tits; five carefully cut out cunts and five pairs of long sexy legs.

Hoping beyond anything I’d ever hoped for before that this wasn’t a hoax, I waited until the last possible moment and doubled the offer on Nadine Coyle’s legs and held my breath. I didn’t breathe again until I was satisfied of three things: Bid accepted; Payment confirmed; Goods dispatched.

It took only two days for my lovely new purchase to arrive and I eagerly opened the long box. My hands trembled as I tore away the soft inner packaging to reveal a pair of beautiful smooth sexy legs. They had been treated with a preservative called Soft Balm which kept a dead body from ever decomposing. It had been formulated to meet with the rising demand for men wanting to keep girls’ body parts as souvenirs of sexual their conquests.

Also in the packaging was the promised DVD. I loaded it into my player, sat down with Nadine’s legs in my lap and hit the ‘PLAY’ button on my DVD remote:

Victim #1: Nicola

According to its driver, the Girls Aloud tour bus had to be diverted in order to avoid upcoming road works.

The girls themselves were too engrossed to care so all he got was a simple “Yeah, whatever.” from Cheryl who was clearly annoyed that his announcement had distracted Kimberley from licking out her wet cunt. Beside Cheryl and Kimberley, Sarah lay in between Nadine and Nicola. Nicola lay behind Sarah and had one finger up Sarah’s tight little arsehole.

Sarah in turn had one arm stretched behind her and was fingering Nicola’s juicy cunt. Facing Sarah was Nadine who had one finger in Sarah’s cunt who in turn fingered Nadine with her other hand. Nadine was also fingering Kimberley’s cunt from behind. All the girls were well aware that they were being watched by the driver.

The driver hated these bitches and their teasing sex games which the little bitches knew he was watching on the bus’s internal CCTV monitor. They did so love to play their little teasing game for him which was why he’d spent months planning this particular detour. They wouldn’t be so arrogant soon, the overpaid little whores. Soon they’d be begging for their lives and making him very rich, not to mention very happy.

“I’m pulling into a garage here!” the driver announced. No one answered. They probably didn’t even hear him over their own moans and giggles. In fact they didn’t even realise that the bus had stopped and the driver had left it. They were too busy playing with one another’s cunts.

Cheryl gave a scream of ecstasy as her cunt shot its hot girl cum onto Kimberley’s tongue. Kimberley swallowed Cheryl’s cum and licked her cunt clean then giggled, as she wriggled with Nadine’s finger up her own cunt.

“Ha ha!” Kimberley laughed. “Cheryl’s out! She’s just shot her load.” Kimberley licked her lips at Cheryl. “And it tasted lovely.” Kimberley added and kissed Cheryl on the cunt then on her mouth so Cheryl could get a faint taste of her own juices. The others laughed as Cheryl stood up and walked away to get dressed.

It was only as Cheryl, still dizzy from the earth shattering orgasm Kimberley had given her, was sorting out a pair of tights to put on that she realised that the bus was no longer moving.

“Hey, we’ve stopped.” she called out.

“No, no, nooooo! Oh god!” Screamed Sarah as she was the next to orgasm. “Fuck you, Cheryl!” Sarah shouted “I was trying not to cum!” Nadine and Nicola both took their fingers out of Sarah’s arse and cunt. As they were both still in the game though, Sarah had to stay where she was and keep her fingers in both of their cunts.

“Where’s the driver gone?” Asked Cheryl to no one in particular.

“Filling up I suppose,” suggested Sarah.

“You’re right.” Said Cheryl. “I can smell petrol.”

The others instinctively sniffed the air.

“It’s getting stronger too.” Cheryl said.

“I don’t think that its petrol either.” Said Nicola, her voice straining with the effort of talking and keeping an orgasm at bay.

“Well bloody diesel, then!” Snapped Cheryl. “God, you can be a right pedantic cow at times!”

The smell got stronger.

Kimberley sniffed harder, “My car’s diesel,” she said urgently. “And I can tell you now that’s not like any diesel I’ve ever used!”

“What the fuck’s going on?” demanded Cheryl just before darkness took her and she hit the floor of the bus.

The others fell unconscious too.

Little did they realise what awaited them when they woke up.

* * *

Sarah’s eyes opened. Her vision was blurred. She was lying gagged on a cold stone floor with her hands tied behind her back. She was still naked except for the fact that someone had put a pair of sheer black stockings and black five inch heels on her.

As her vision cleared she realised that there wasn’t much light but she could make out the shapes of the others similarly gagged and tied. They had all had stockings and high heels put on them as well.

One of them moved, Nadine.

Nadine opened her eyes and looked pleadingly to Sarah. Sarah could only return her helpless stare. One by one the other three came round.

They all lay helpless on the ground as they came to their senses.

They hadn’t lain there for long when light suddenly flooded the building they were in. The lights were powerful and they all recognised them as familiar studio lights which they were well used to working under.

They were in some kind of large warehouse. It was sparsely furnished but for the lights and some odd looking apparatus in the middle of the floor and a couple of high definition digital movie cameras.

From somewhere out of sight, they could hear faint laughter: A man’s laughter. All five girls were getting very frightened. They wriggled futilely in their restraints as the sound of footsteps sounded in the distance and the shape of a man loomed into view.

He was large muscular and naked with a huge erection. His face was obscured by a black leather executioner’s hood and only his eyes and mouth were visible. The girls tried to back away as he approached them. He went for Cheryl first and effortlessly hauled her to her feet and dragged her to where five hooks hung from the high ceiling. He untied her wrists then snapped handcuffs on them, this time in front of her. Then he pulled her arms above her head and looped the chain of the handcuffs over one of the hooks so as she stood suspended with her feet just barely touching the floor.

Tears filled Cheryl’s eyes and she sobbed softly.

The man walked away and returned with Nadine. He repeated the process of hanging her by her wrists on one of the hooks then returned with Sarah followed by Nicola and finally Kimberley.

All five girls were crying now.

The man himself seemed to be adjusting one of the cameras so that it pointed towards the five helpless girls.

“Well, girls,” said the man in a rasping voice. “If you haven’t already guessed, you’re all going to die tonight.”

The girls all started shaking and pulling frantically at their restraints.

His cold cruel eyes looked at each girl in turn. The look of sheer terror filling each of their eyes was clearly pleasing him.

Finally he spoke, “Nicola. You’re first.” He walked up to Nicola and removed her gag.

“Nooooo!” she screamed “No! Please!”

The man lifted Nicola off her hook and dropped her screaming to the ground.

He then grabbed her by her long auburn hair and dragged her to where a work bench stood in the middle of the floor.

Nicola continued screaming. “No! Please! Somebody help me!”

The man lifted Nicola effortlessly onto the wooden bench and unlocked her handcuffs.

Nicola tried to struggle against his superior strength but he easily forced her arms wide apart and tightened her wrists into leather straps at the corners of the bench.

Nicola kept screaming.

The hooded man then grabbed Nicola’s kicking legs and similarly tied them at the ankles as wide apart as painfully possible so that her wet cunt lips were parted and vulnerable.

Satisfied that Nicola was completely helpless, the man held up a huge twelve inch vibrator for Nicola and the others to see. Nicola’s eyes widened at the length and thickness of the huge phallic toy.

The man smiled and activated the dildo. It buzzed to life with a faint hum. Then he squeezed it tightly and a sharp eight inch blade sprang from its tip.

“No!” Screamed Nicola louder than ever “Oh God! No! Please!”

The man retracted the blade and smiled. “As soon as you cum.” He said unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. “As soon as you cum, the blade extends inside you.”

“No!” Screamed Nicola. “Please! I’ll do anything. Anything!”

The man ignored her and parted her already open cunt lips even farther with his fingers.

“Nooooo!” cried Nicola over and over again as she felt the huge rubber cock being forced up her tight cunt hole. It was pushed further into her than any real cock or dildo she had ever used on herself had ever been. She yelped in pain as the man gave it one last push and activated it.

The dildo vibrated fast inside Nicola’s cunt, stimulating that most sensitive area. Her clitoris sent all the usual signals of euphoric bliss to her brain despite her best efforts to resist. I mustn’t orgasm; she thought to herself, I mustn’t cum.

But the dildo was too powerful and after a few minutes of stimulation Nicola lost control of her cunt muscles as they squeezed and contracted around the huge dildo which was invading her body.

“No. NO. NOOOOOOOOOOO!” she screamed but it was too late. Inside her body she felt the release of her juices followed by a sharp horrendous pain of the cruel blade perforating her innards. She screamed her loudest yet as the man loomed over her once again this time holding a long knife. Nicola began to cough up blood from her destroyed internal organs. Her vision began to darken but she felt the man’s rough hand squeeze her tit hard. He then placed the knife blade under the tit and sliced upwards.

Nicola made a sound that was somewhere between screaming and gurgling blood. The man sliced excitedly until the soft tit was severed from Nicola’s dying body. He then did the same to her remaining tit, happy that she was still alive and conscious enough to still feel the pain and scream.

When both her tits had been cut off the man pulled the bloodied dildo out of Nicola’s cunt and with a smaller thin sharp knife, he cut around her cunt then pulled it out with a sharp tug. Nicola gave one final scream.

Although still alive, Nicola felt cold and numb and her vision was darkening. She could make out the shape of the man standing between her outstretched legs holding what appeared to be a large saw. Darkness finally took her as she thought she could hear a grinding sound and the feeling of something cutting trough her pelvis where her leg joined her body.

Victim #2: Kimberley

The four remaining girls looked in sheer terror at Nicola’s torture. She had stopped screaming now and the only sound they could hear was the sickly grinding sound of the man sawing the legs off Nicola’s mutilated body.

When the legs were cut off he placed them on the ground and unfastened the restraints holding Nicola’s arms. He then lifted her titless and legless torso and placed it on the ground beside her severed tits and legs.

The girls’ eyes flooded with tears at the sight of Nicola’s demise and at the knowledge that one of them was going to be next.

The man turned back to where the helpless four were hanging by their wrists.

They all began to struggle violently as he eyed each one of them in turn until his eyes settled on Kimberley.

Kimberley shook her head frantically as he walked towards her and removed her gag.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed Kimberley. “Please!”

The man smiled “I’m betting you’ll do anything not to die like Nicola did?” he asked excitedly.

“Yes.” screamed Kimberley. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want! Oh God please don’t do the same to me. Please! I don’t want to die!”

“Well,” said the man menacingly, “Killing beautiful girls is horny work and I have the urge to cum in your mouth. Are you going to be a good girl and suck my cock?”

“YES!!!” Screamed Kimberley. “Yes I’ll be good and do whatever you want. Just please don’t hurt me!”

He lifted Kimberley down from her hook and forced her to kneel in front of him.

“Suck my cock.” He ordered her. “And swallow like the little slut you are!”

With that he rammed his hard cock into Kimberley’s open mouth. “Use your tongue, you little whore!” he growled.

Kimberley tasted the salty pulsating cock in her wet mouth. Under different circumstanced she might have enjoyed it. But now all she could think was that her life depended on this blow-job although deep down she knew she was going to die anyway.

The huge cock pulsated and throbbed in her mouth until it finally exploded and her mouth filled up with hot thick cum.

There’s so much of it thought! Kimberley. As she swallowed it seemed as though more was pouring from the hard erection and she began to choke as she struggled to get all the hot semen down her throat.

Finally the man stopped cumming and pulled his cock out of Kimberley’s mouth. Amazingly, it was still impressively hard.

Kimberley gagged and spluttered as she tried to breathe again.

“Did you enjoy that?” the man asked making no effort to hide the fact that he clearly had.

“Yes!” cried Kimberley hoping that this was the right thing to say. “I want to do it again. Please can we do it again?”

The man laughed. “I don’t have time.” He said. “I’ve got to kill you and three more to kill.”

“No!” Kimberley cried. “You promised!”

“I didn’t promise,” said the man. “You were brought here to die, all of you were! And you’re all going to die. Did you really think that you could tease men all these years and get away with it? All those poses in magazines, those videos of you all wearing next to nothing showing off your tits and legs making men horny. Making men want you and then laughing because you thought that they could never get near you.” He looked down at Kimberley and then at the three others while he continued his obviously frustrated rant.

“But then the law changed!” he said “The law changed and women were put in their places. No rights, none of this equality bollocks! Just dirty little tarts for men to do what they like with. And now that’s exactly what I’m going to do with you.”

He picked Kimberley up and fastened her onto the bench as he had done to Nicola.

Kimberley screamed and begged as he forced her sexy legs wide apart and tied her ankles. He then began to lick her cunt out. She had already cum. Most likely out of fear.

“I knew this was making you horny.” He laughed as he stuck his tongue as far up her cunt as he could.

He withdrew his tongue and parted her cunt lips so he could look inside her. “Any more up there?” He asked “I hope so. There’s nothing quite like the taste of a frightened girl’s cum.”

Kimberley just kept on screaming at her violation much to the man’s cruel amusement. To his utter delight and to Kimberley’s shame she came as he licked out her sweet wet cunt. He licked up her rich white girl cum savouring the taste of her fear in every drop.

Kimberley had screamed all through her orgasm but now she had quietened as the man finished licking her and stood up.

“I think we’ll do it different this time,” he said as he retrieved his blood covered saw.

“NOOOOOOOO!” Screamed Kimberley. “God no! Please kill me first! Please! I’m begging you!”

“Sorry,” said the man. “But I can’t do that. I need to saw off your legs while you’re still alive so you’ll feel the pain. And I need the practice for when it’s Nadine’s turn. She’s got the sexiest legs in the world apparently.” He looked over at where Nadine was hanging.

“The sexiest legs in the world,” he repeated, “and I’m going to be the one to cut them off.” Nadine felt herself cum at the thought of dying in such a way.

Hot sticky girl juice ran down the world’s sexiest legs.

The man laid a rough hand on Kimberley’s throbbing wet cunt to steady her helpless soft trembling body and pushed his middle finger into her slippery well lubricated hole.

She screamed at this latest rough uncaring intrusion into her most intimate opening.

“Please!” She cried desperate to be spared the same, if not worse pain that had been so mercilessly inflicted upon Nicola.

The man ignored her pleas for mercy just as he had ignored Nicola’s.

He positioned the jagged blade of the saw on the bone of Kimberley’s pelvis where her long shapely leg joined her body and began to saw back and forth.

Kimberley screamed as the cruel blade broke her delicate skin at first then bit into the bone itself.

Kimberley’s shrieks of agony filled the vast building as the saw bit deeper and deeper with each stroke and each stroke Kimberley knew was one stroke closer to her leg becoming detached from her body.

Kimberley’s world was one of pain, unimaginable ecstatic pain until the sawing stopped and she could no longer feel any sensation in her sexy leg. It had been cut cleanly off and all Kimberley felt was a searing pain where the saw had severed bone tendons nerves and sinew.

Her screams had died down to a pant as she felt herself going numb from shock and severe blood loss.

The man must have realised this and knowing that Kimberley would soon be dead he proceeded to saw off her remaining leg to make sure she would at least suffer right up until the end.

The new wave of pain from her other leg being sawed off momentarily brought Kimberley back to her senses and she began screaming once again. To the man’s disappointment, her screams were short lived.

The pain finally left Kimberley’s body as darkness overcame her vision. The last thing she saw was the man smiling as he sawed away at her half severed leg.

Victim #3: Sarah

Sarah, Cheryl and Nadine looked on as the man continued to mutilate Kimberley’s dead body. He removed her cunt in much the same way as he had Nicola’s then he sliced off Kimberley’s tits.

Finally he unstrapped Kimberley’s body from the bench and placed her remains beside those of Nicola.

The three remaining terrified girls’ eyes streamed with tears and their cunts dripped with cum.

The man turned once again to the girls.

“Which of you little bitches wants to be next?” He asked.

The three girls shook their heads frantically as he approached them to select his next victim.

He looked at each in turn before settling his eyes on Sarah.

His ever hard cock twitched in excitement as he soaked up the look of pure terror in Sarah’s crystal blue eyes. He removed her gag and she gave an ear-piercing scream.

He also noticed the looks of relief on Cheryl and Nadine’s faces although their relief would be short lived.

The man lifted Sarah from her hook and carried her kicking and screaming over to the now blood soaked bench and secured her onto it in the same helpless spread eagled position.

“Now,” said the man looking Sarah’s body up and down, “how would you like to die?”

“NOOO! NOOO! NOOO!” screamed Sarah “Not me! Please not me!”

“Yes,” the man said in a low taunting voice. “It’s your turn.”

“Please!” sobbed Sarah. “I won’t tell anybody what you’ve done! I promise! I’ll just say the group’s split up. Please! You don’t need to kill me as well!”

“Why should I care who finds out what I’ve done here?” Asked the man “You’re all just girls aren’t you. It’s not like killing you is illegal, is it? You’ll try anything to save your own tits, won’t you?” Said the man.

“Yes!” Sarah screamed “I’ll even help you!”

“And how do you think you can help me?” The man asked feigning intrigue.

Sarah looked to where Cheryl and Nadine were hanging.

“What if I sucked your cock while you killed Cheryl and Nadine?” She said quickly.

“You’re not much of a friend,” said the man. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Because I hate them!” Screamed Sarah “They’re the most popular. World’s sexiest legs! World’s sexiest woman! That should have been me!” Sarah screamed.

A look of disbelief replaced the fear on Cheryl and Nadine’s faces. Sarah was frightened, true, but neither Nicola nor Kimberley had said anything like this. Fresh tears welled up in Nadine’s eyes but Cheryl’s eyes turned hard and she glared hatefully at Sarah. I hope it’s even fucking slower and more painful for you. You blonde bitch! She though venomously.

The man pretended to consider Sarah’s suggestion then said “I’m afraid I don’t see a way to let you live and cut off your sexy bits.” He said “So it’ll be easier for me and more painful for you if I just kill you like I planned to. But I promise you, your two friends will die just as painfully. You have my word.”

Sarah didn’t doubt it as she began to cry once more whilst the man picked up the long knife he’d used on Kimberley and Nicola’s tits.

The man turned the knife towards Sarah as she screamed in panic at the impending pain she was about to endure.

“Let’s see if we can make you last a bit longer than your friends did,” he said.

Sarah just kept screaming as he groped one soft tit with his rough hand and brought the knife beneath it with his other hand.

“NO!” Screamed Sarah. “Please! Don’t cut off my tits. Please!”

The man ignored her pathetic plea for mercy and brought the sharp blade up to slice through Sarah’s soft helpless tit.

Tremendous pain engulfed Sarah’s body as the man slices effortlessly through her soft flesh and lifted the pert severed tit away and placed it beside her head.

Sarah jerked her head the other way so she didn’t have to look at her own cut off tit.

“Oh my God!” She screamed hysterically, “My tit. You’ve cut off my tit. Put it back on! Please put it back on!”

The man enjoyed Sarah’s hysterical pleading and screaming as he likewise sliced off her second tit and placed it at the other side of her head so that now whichever way she looked, she would see her own severed breasts.

Sarah stared wide eyed in disbelief at the bloody mounds where her pert breasts had been only minutes before.

The man now held the smaller of the two knives Sarah had seen him use to cut out Nicola’s cunt.

Sarah’s own cunt began to throb uncontrollably as the man pushed his rough finger up it and twisted it cruelly.

Sarah winced in pain and screamed.

“Kill me! Please kill me! I can’t bear the pain. Please! You’ve had your fun with me. Please do the rest after I’m dead! Please!”

The man laughed and waved the knife in front of Sarah’s wet cunt.

“Please!” begged Sarah “Please make it quick!”

“If I make it quick I won’t have the pleasure of hearing you scream while I’m sawing into you.” He said.

“Please!” screamed Sarah again. “Please! Kill me now!”

“Your cunt or your legs?” asked the man.

“What?” screamed Sarah “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to cut one more thing off before I kill you. Your cunt or your legs? Your choice.”

Sarah didn’t know what to say. She tried to think: Her cunt would take less time to cut out than it would take to saw off her legs. But the thought of dying without her remaining claim to womanhood attached scared her for some reason. Then she thought of Kimberley’s hideous screams as her legs were being sawed off. She was in enough pain already.

“My cunt!” Sarah screamed. “Cut out my cunt and please make it quick.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” the man said putting down the knife and lifting the saw “I’m going to saw off your legs and make it slow!” He began to laugh.

Sarah screamed louder than ever. Louder than she ever thought possible.

The man clamped his rough hand on Sarah’s wet cunt and positioned the saw and once again began the motion of sawing back and forth.

Sarah screamed as she entered a new world of pain hundreds of times worse than that of her tits being cut off. She could feel the saw grinding into her bone, severing tendons and nerves. She was loosing the feeling in her leg as with each successive stoke of the saw it became a little more detached from her sexy body.

Darkness clouded her vision and she did not try to fight it. She was grateful that she would not live through the agony of her other leg being cut off.

The last thing Sarah Harding saw in her young life was the sight of her own beautiful leg being lifted away from her mutilated body. The last thing she felt was the most fantastic pain and fear induced orgasm.

The man sawed off Sarah’s remaining leg and released her body from the bench setting it and its sexy severed members onto the ground with those of Nicola and Kimberley.

Victim #4: Nadine

Cheryl and Nadine were paralysed with fear. The sight of their friends being dismembered alive was horrific enough but the knowledge that the same was going to happen to them was worse still.

The man walked up to them and he licked his lips lustfully at Nadine.

Nadine shut her eyes and shook her head frantically. She felt his rough hands clasp her pert subtle breasts. Her small perfectly round nipples were hard and pointed.

The man ran his hand down her body to find the wet slit between her perfect legs.

“Oh, Nadine,” said the man breathing heavily. “Your legs are so beautiful.” He pulled her soft body against his own hard muscular frame. His rock hard erection pressed into her soft quivering flesh.

“I hope you’ll live long enough to feel the pain of both your legs being cut off.”

Nadine felt her cunt throb and release its hot girl juice. She was frightened but aroused at the same time. She didn’t understand why.

The man removed her gag to reveal her pretty mouth. Which trembled in fear? Her lovely eyes were filled with tears.

“Please,” Nadine whimpered. “Please.”

The man looked at her. His eyes softened though not with regret.

“I have to, Nadine,” he said. “I need to! You’re my dream victim. You’ve got the most perfect legs in the world.”

“I’d liked to have kept you till last,” he said turning to Cheryl. “But I need someone to suck my cock while I’m cutting your legs off.”

Despite all she had just witnessed Nadine still couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

The man lifted Nadine’s slender body from the hook and set her on her knees.

“Suck my cock,” said the man “Suck my cock and I promise I’ll only cut off your legs while you’re alive.”

Nadine whimpered and nodded.

The man freed her wrists from behind the handcuffs and he made her hug his well toned waist.

He then guided his huge erection into Nadine’s accepting mouth.

Nadine had taken men’s cocks in her mouth before but she couldn’t remember one being this hard.

This was what a man with power tasted like she thought. A man with real power over women. The man who was going to kill her.

Tears fell down Nadine’s face as she savoured the taste of the cruel cock in her lovely mouth.

Oh, God! She thought to herself. Oh God! Why is this turning me on?

She curled her velvet tongue around the huge throbbing organ then used the delicate tip of her tongue to gently lick its raw end.

“Good girl,” Panted the man. “Oh yes! Oh yes! OH YES!”

Hot thick cum spurted from his swollen cockhead into Nadine’s mouth. There was so much of it. Even his cum had a taste of power about it.

Nadine swallowed it all knowing that she had never tasted cum like it b before and that she never would again. She sucked and licked until every last trace of the potent cum was gone.

The man made to withdraw his cock but Nadine tightened her grip around his waist.

His strong hands clamped her delicate wrists. “Don’t be greedy.” He said in a mockingly playful tone as he forced her arms from around his waist.

The man withdrew his still hard cock from Nadine’s mouth then he lifted her light body to the bench.

Nadine’s body convulsed in panic as she was laid on the wooden surface of the bench, too weak with fear to struggle.

“No!” She cried “Please! No!”

The man bound Nadine’s wrists and then her ankles so she lay as the others had with her sexy legs painfully wide apart and her cunt lips open.

The man took a moment to savour the sight of Nadine’s beautiful helpless body in the final terrifying moments of her life.

The man couldn’t resist stroking Nadine’s long stockinged legs with his rough hands and finally licking all the cum she had let out of her sweet sticky cunt.

Nadine’s whimpering became moans as she felt the man’s tongue on her legs then on her cunt and finally inside her cunt. He was good with his tongue she thought. He’d probably had a lot of practice and Nadine wondered how many helpless girls’ cunts he had licked or how many terrified girls mouths he had cum in just before he tortured them to death.

The thought made Nadine cum. It was the most fantastic orgasm she had ever felt and she let out more cum than she had ever let out in her life. For that moment her fear was forgotten and all she felt was ecstasy.

The man licked up Nadine’s cum savouring the taste of her fear.

Nadine lay helplessly as the man returned to where only Cheryl now hung from the ceiling.

Tears filled Cheryl’s beautiful brown eyes as the man lifted her off her hook and ungagged her.

“You’re going to suck my cock while I cut off Nadine’s legs,” said the man to Cheryl. “Then I’m going to let you go.”

“What?” asked Cheryl in disbelief. “You’re going to le let me go?”

“As long as you’re a good girl and do what I want,” said the man. “Will you be a good girl?”

“Yes!” cried Cheryl “Yes I’ll do what you want. Oh thank you. I couldn’t have beared to die like that. I’ve been so frightened! Oh thank you! Thank you!”

Cheryl broke down in tears of relief. A blow-job for my life. She thought. I can live with that.

The man walked Cheryl over to where Nadine lay on the bench sobbing in anticipation of her impending painful death.

“Cheryl?” cried Nadine.

“Oh, Nadine.” said Cheryl without thinking. “He’s not going to kill me! All I have to do is suck him off while he–”

Cheryl looked at Nadine. “Oh, my God! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry but I have to live. I just have to! I’m sorry!”

Nadine screamed in protest. “NOOOOOOOO! Please! It’s not fair!”

The man ordered Cheryl to kneel in front of the bench. With her wrists still cuffed.

He approached her holding the blood soaked saw and directed his hard cock into her waiting mouth.

Cheryl accepted the hard organ gratefully and immediately she began to work her tongue around the rock hard shaft of flesh.

The man took a moment to enjoy the sensation of his cock in Cheryl’s mouth then he placed his hand on Nadine’s throbbing cunt in the customary gesture of steadying the girl’s body before he began to saw.

Nadine screamed as she felt the cold steel of the saw’s jagged teeth touching her smooth skin.

The man couldn’t wait any longer. He drew the saw slowly back and then pushed it forward with a mall amount of pressure so Nadine’s skin broke at the joint between her leg and her pelvis.

Nadine could only scream as the saw went backwards again then forwards burying it a little deeper as the pain increased into a searing hot agony.

The deeper the saw went into Nadine’s body, the greater her pain became, the greater her pain, the louder her screams got.

The man continued to saw through the Nadine’s beautiful body; Cheryl continued to frantically suck the man’s hard cock and Nadine continued to scream as her beautiful leg became more and more detached from her body.

The man stopped sawing and it took Nadine in her world of pain, a moment to realise that her leg was completely severed. The man lifted the sexy long limb up for her to see.

Nadine couldn’t scream. She just lay gasping for breath.

On her knees at the base of the bench Cheryl felt the man shoot his load of hot cum into her hungry mouth. Deciding to play safe she swallowed the hot salty cum and kept his cock, which was still surprisingly hard, in her mouth.

The man looked into Nadine’s tear filled eyes happy that she was still alive.

He then positioned the saw on the opposite side and again began to cut slowly at first then faster as the blade buried itself into Nadine’s body.

Nadine felt herself going cold and numb but the sight of her legs, her pride and joy, not to mention her money-making trademark, being sawed off her helpless body, ensured that she kept screaming even though the pain was beginning to lessen.

The saw did it’s work just as it had done on her other leg and Nadine lay, her vision darkening, unable to scream, unable to speak, unable to make any sound or movement save for her sexy mouth quivering ever so slightly.

The man lifted Nadine’s second sexy leg up and hoped that she still had enough vision to see it being discarded along with the other. He then unfastened Nadine’s legless body and set it on the ground beside those of Nicola, Kimberley and Sarah. The last thing Nadine saw was the pile of beautiful, sexy female body parts.

Victim #5: Cheryl

Cheryl knelt in front of the bench sucking the man’s hard cock and swallowing his cum each time he ejaculated.

Nadine’s hideous screams had finally ceased and tears spilled down Cheryl’s cheeks as she realised that all her friends were dead. She deeply regretted her thoughts toward Sarah before she died. After all, Sarah just wanted do live, as did Nicola, Kimberley and Nadine. But through her regret she was secretly relived that it was over and that she was alive. The price for her life was high but she told herself it had been worth it: she would soon be free, or as free as any beautiful girl was in today’s society.

“You can stop now.” The man said to Cheryl with a sound of immense sexual relief.

Cheryl let the man’s hard cock out of her mouth and sighed in a different kind of relief.

The man then lifted her to her feet.

“Thank you,” said Cheryl weakly as the man unlocked the handcuffs which bound her wrists. Instinctively Cheryl threw her arms around the hooded man and sobbed uncontrollably. She felt his hard cock pressing against her soft body.

“Fuck me!” She whispered softly. “Please fuck me! I need to be fucked!”

The man said nothing but moved his hands down Cheryl’s smooth back and took hold of her pert arse cheeks then heaved her body up so he impaled her wet cunt on his ever hard cock.

“Oh God, yes!” Screamed Cheryl as she slid down the hard column of his man flesh.

She wrapped her black stockinged legs around his thighs as he began to pump into her soft hot body.

“Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh yes!” Cheryl repeatedly panted.

The man sat Cheryl on the blood soaked bench and then leaned forward forcing her onto her back.

He then proceeded to take her arms from around his neck and held her wrists outstretched towards the corners of the bench.

Cheryl just moaned at the massive cock filling her wet cunt. She didn’t notice until it was too late that the man had fastened one of her wrists to the bench while more and more vigorously he thrust himself into her.

It was only when Cheryl wanted to pull his muscular body closer to her own soft body that she realised her writs had been restrained.

“What are you doing?” She screamed suddenly remembering that she was fucking the man who had mercilessly tortured her four friends.

The man continued to thrust into her more violently now, not caring if he caused Cheryl pain as well as pleasure. He easily held her other wrist into place and tightly secured it in the leather strap.

“No!” Screamed Cheryl. “No! You promised! You promised you’d let me live!”

Panic engulfed Cheryl’s whole body and she convulsed with fear just as the man ejaculated, shooting his hot load up her throbbing cunt. Cheryl screamed as she felt the hot cum enter her body and burn its way up into her body.

The man slowed down and withdrew his cock from Cheryl’s trembling body.

“I lied,” said the man laughing at his own cruelty.

“You didn’t really think I was going to let you live after killing the others, did you?”

Cheryl couldn’t bring herself to answer. She just sobbed as he tied her ankles with the leather straps.

The man then picked up the long knife.

Cheryl’s eyes widened in terror as he squeezed one of her large firm tits and began to slice.

Cheryl’s head exploded into a world of pain as the sharp blade made its way through her tit-flesh.

The man held up her severed tit for her to look at but all Cheryl could stare at was the gaping wound on one side of her chest.

“Did you enjoy that as much as you enjoyed watching it happen to your friends?” Asked the man.

Cheryl screamed at the horrendous pain she was feeling.

The man quickly set to work slicing off Cheryl’s other tit and again he held it up to inspect his handiwork.

Next the man exchanged the knife for its smaller companion and began to cut round Cheryl’s stinging cunt.

Cheryl’s screams got louder and louder as the man pulled out her severed cunt. She wanted it to end. She wanted this to never have happened.

She didn’t want to feel the pain of her legs being sawed off but she knew it was coming as the man discarded the small knife and positioned the saw beside the gaping bloody hole where her cunt had been.

The pain was unlike anything Cheryl had ever imagined. Even as she had watched the others’ legs being sawed off and listened to their screams a part of her tried to convince her that it couldn’t have been so bad. How wrong she was!

She could feel the saw separating her body from her leg and she screamed because scream was all she could do.

Cheryl watched as one of her beautiful legs was raised up high for her to see and fully contemplate what had happened to her.

The man, delighted by the fact that Cheryl still alive began to saw at her remaining leg.

As them man sawed away at the her remaining sexy black stockinged leg Cheryl’s vision blurred and then darkened but not before the man held up her leg to admire his sawing skills one last time.

* * *

The man looked at the beautiful dismembered bodies of five of the world’s sexiest girls. He set about sorting into pairs their severed tits and legs. He then carefully cut off each head from its dead torso and likewise grouped them with their respective severed limbs. All that remained was to pay the coach driver, take photos of the body parts for their auction on eBay and burn enough copies of the DVD he had just filmed.

Girls Aloud: The world’s sexiest all girl pop group had died the painful sexy deaths they had always deserved.

Epilogue

I switched of the DVD player suitably fulfilled by what I had just watched. I stroked Nadine’s beautiful legs in my lap. They felt smooth and subtle and were even more beautiful in the flesh than I had ever imagined.

The front door opened and I saw that it was my sexy little sixteen year old sister, Vicki, coming home from school.

Vicki was in awe at how beautiful Nadine’s legs were and said that I should dress them up in tights or stockings and display them in my room.

I looked at my little sister’s own sexy legs and decided that after watching such a sexy DVD that needed to pay a game with her.

“Strip!” I said to her. “Everything but your stockings and heels.”

Vicki quickly obeyed. She loved our games as much as I did.

“What are we playing?” Vicki asked “The Princess and The Executioner? Or the Prostitute Punishments?”

“It’s a surprise,” I said to her. “Run upstairs and lie on my bed with your legs wide apart and I’ll be up in a minute.”

Vicki ran excitedly out of the room and up the stairs. I would follow her soon but first I went to the shed to find a sharp saw and some strong rope.

THE END

Author’s note: the named celebrities in this piece are fictionalised representations of themselves. I do not condone in the real world any of the acts described in this work.

If you enjoyed this or my first story, Laura’s Execution, then I’d like to hear from you. Email me at [email protected] – Constructive comments only please.

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roidespd-blog · 5 years

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Chapter Twenty-Two : LA CAGE AUX FOLLES DOGMA

Dogma : the official system of principles or doctrines of a religion or the positions of a philosopher or philosophical school.

In 1973 at the Théâtre du Palais-Royal, took place the first official performance of La Cage Aux Folles written by Jean Poiret, a vaudeville centering on confusion that ensues when the son of a night club owner and his main star (also a man) brings his female fiancée’s ultraconservative parents for dinner. An incredible success on stage, it went on the run for close to 2,000 performances. Five years later, La Cage Aux Folles was adapted into a movie directed by Edouard Molinaro. You want to talk about phenomenon ? It became the second-highest grossing movie in France that year, with 5,406,614 admissions and is till the 10th highest grossing french movie in the U.S. It was later adapted into a Broadway musical in 1983 with Harvey Fierstein at the helm (see article from June 2nd), and a remake was shot in 1996 directed by the great late Mike Nichols called The Birdcage.

I have to tell you that right now, I hate La Cage Aux Folles. It has little to no qualities in terms of production value and cinematic interest and most of all, it’s probably one of the most offensive movies in the History of cinema for LGBTQ+ people. But it was also a product of its time, enslaved by moral codes and infused by a lack of comprehension that is ours today. That’s what I want to talk about here. Representation. It ain’t pretty. Like Michel-Serrault-in-drag-not pretty.

HISTORICALLY VILE

The first representation of homosexuality in cinema was in 1895’s short silent film The Gay Brothers. We can’t really know for sure because 1. homosexuality was not common knowledge back then 2. Gay didn’t mean Fag in the late 19th century 3. two men dance together while a third plays the fiddle. Conclude for yourself. Anyway, the movie intends to be comical and makes a lot of jokes at the expense of its protagonists. Trend-starter, that one. As movie making was booming, increase awareness and presence of Queer people appeared in that media. Unfortunately, the rise of the Production Code (created in 1922) brought a lot of censorship to the community in its possibility of portrayal. Homosexuality was never explicitly mentioned and only in two ways : as a comical device or a villainous character who’s sickness, perversion and crimes are obvious to the audience. When it came to homosexuals, worldwide viewers had three options to explore : laughter, pity or fear. Early on, the girlish traits of the gay character and the stupidity of its desires were put front and center, whether in westerns (The Soilers) or in Charlie Chaplin movies (Behind the Screen). In historical movie term, the character would be referenced as the SISSY. Answering to the same principles as the whore, the dad or the saint figures, the SISSY had for purpose to give more masculine value to the hero (and to the viewer). But as the butt of the joke and in the constraints of the Production Code, he didn’t have a proper sexuality to act. An innocent childish fool. This convention continued with the talkies in the 20s and 30s as a subject that was partially shown but never discussed.

The few non-judgmental attempts at depicting Queerness were met with furious reactions and indescribable indignation from religious audiences, like when Marlene Dietrich kissed a woman on the lips in Morocco (1930), causing reinforcement of the Code.

For over two decades, scripts would pass through intense censorship and oppression, erasing homosexual overtones in novel adaptions or changing too direct gay references and replacing them with anti-semantic plot lines, more line with the time.

To override the code, directors had to be extremely smart. Alfred Hitchcock, a master of all movie crafts, was the best at this game. In 1948’s Rope, two roommates kill another man to finally know what it feels like, then host a dinner party in their apartment while the body is still there. The movie is fascinating in its “one-shot” concept and the script never mentions the possibility of a sexual relationship between the two but if attentive, you realize that they live in a one-bedroom apartment. Since you’ve spent the entirety of the movie in the living room, you know no one sleeps here. So. They gay. They’re also despicable murderers. Yep. FEAR factor.

I have so many more examples of this but let’s fast forward to the late 50s and the end of the Production Code’s dominance on Hollywood. 1959’s Some Like it Hot depicts two male protagonists pretending to be women who join a musical touring band. Straight people dressed in woman’s clothes. Come on, moviegoers, time to LAUGH. That movie gets a pass because Billy Wilder is a genius.

Then you have Spartacus (1960) and that homo-erotic relationship between the protagonist and its servant. Still underlined as hell but still. Then not much else. Until…

WE GOT FUCKED (AND NOT IN A GOOD WAY)

In the States, The Boys in the Band (1970) shook things for good (and, in a lesser way, The Producers, 1968). A year after the Stonewall Riots, while homosexuality was still considered a mental illness, This play adaptation’s portraying of nine homosexuals (eight, if you’re really delusional) was revolutionary. But some of their characterizations (I’m looking at you, Emory) and the way they tear each other apart as sure-to-be closeted monsters are quite hard to watch. In a way, they are still crazy sissies. Audience, PITY those homosexual fools.

And then, La Cage aux Folles. Although France made some attempts at talking about homosexuality without obeying to the social et moral duties of the era with La Nouvelle Vague (Amitiés Particulières, 1964), it was Molinaro’s popular success that sealed audiences’ views on gay people in this brand new era.

By depicting Zaza (Michel Serrault) in such a flamboyant way, combining homosexuality, drag queens, transvestites and transgender people into one, this movie, with its truly international success, wrote unintentionally a new rulebook about what a homosexual is deemed acceptable on screen. Such rule would be followed for decades to come. Do you now understand the dogma definition at the beginning of the article? I’m a smart cookie, you know.

LA CAGE AUX FOLLES DOGMA

For a gay character to be portrayed in a major motion picture and thus be accepted by audiences, he has to : 1. Be recognizable from the straight characters, as not to confuse the audience. 2. Be funny and over the top, so that the audience don’t take offense to its immorality. 3. Reassure male audiences on their true masculinity with ridiculous ways to act, walk, talk and live. 4. If your movie embraces the gay character’s view at some point, be sure to let him make all the compromises in the world so that the audience knows that HE knows that what he is doing is ‘peculiar’ and ‘wrong’ 5. Make fun OF him as much as possible. And pretend you’re having fun WITH him. PS. Don’t forget, glitter and fun mockery.

Zaza screams his lungs out for nothing and everything. Sorry, “her” lungs out, since SHE only uses the female pronoun to talk about HERself. She performs in a gay cabaret, is clearly depicted as the female counterpart of the relationship (because you need to apply binary concepts no matter what), decides to dress as a woman to meet the conservative in-laws for the first time. Zaza is the new post-gay liberation movement acceptable SISSY. Zaza is also a plague for the movement.

Michel Serrault, as talented of an actor as he was, doomed us for years to come by transposing a fantastic stage character into a movie ready to be assimilated by millions. Media is power. If they say something has to be this or that, the audience will follow, especially in a time when gay people weren’t equals in rights or ready to mingle with the general population. Critics embraced it. It was nominated for three Oscars. Serrault won Best Actor at the Césars. The Golden Globes deemed it the Best Foreign Film of that year. Talk about Media approval. We were fucked.

THE MINORITY AFTERTHOUGHT

The greatest decade in cinema (in my opinion) saw the portrayal of a couple of… interesting gay characters. The Last Picture Show (1971), Cabaret (1972) and its flamboyant Maître des Lieux. Dog Day Afternoon (1975) shocked audiences with a protagonist in a relationship with another man. Unfortunately, that other man is a SISSY who wants to have Reassignment Surgery in no way portrayed in a positive light. The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) gave a shitload of screen time to Queer characters, but (SPOILER ALERT) he is an alien from another planet, a freak and the movie became a cult classic with time, it was not a studio film. In television, gay people are nowhere to be found. Homosexuality is barely getting talked about in the news. The Mary Tyler Moore Show has Mary go on a date with a man who turns out to be gay. It’s funny. So wacky. Not much else. I found a couple of shows from the 80s with LGBT plot lines .(Thirtysomething! Thirtysomething!) but the article was already way too long. Make your own damn research !

NOT THAT KIND OF SISSY

To my recollection, the first time a homosexual person was portrayed in a truly positive light was in Jonathan Demme’s Philadelphia. The struggle of a HIV-positive man seeking justice after he was fired. Tom Hanks won his first Oscar. Bruce Springsteen also won for his incredible song “Streets of Philadelphia”. I mean, it was still about pity lots of ways but the humanity in which the character is shown is outstanding. As Hanks puts it “Love is spelled with the same four letters”.

The 90s saw a biggest variety of Queer characters portrayed in american cinema. The Crying Game. Philadelphia. Jeffrey. Showgirls. My Best Friend’s Wedding. To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything! Julie Newmar. Most of them offensive in terms of clichés (because… written by cis straight folks ? YEP). but a welcome demonstration of our colors.

Australian classic The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994) stays a example on how to do proper representation without removing the potential ridiculousness of Queer existence.

At the dawn of the new millennium, independent cinema offered us Boys Don’t Cry (1999), the true story of Brandon Teena, a trans man who tried to live his authentic life and got killed for it. More than putting Hilary Swank on the map (and an Oscar is her hands), it was unique in the sense that the queer protagonist wasn’t a joke, wasn’t scary and did not inspire pity. He was a strong man, a tuff spirit and a model for trans generations to follow.

UNAPOLOGETICALLY QUEER

Boys Don’t Cry was followed by a series of incredible movies and characters not afraid to be as Queer, as proud and as strong as Brandon Teena. Before Night Falls (2000), Hedwig and the Angry Inch (2001), The Hours(2002), Mysterious Skin (2004), Breakfast on Pluto (2005), Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005), Transamerica (2005), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Kaboom(2010), Blue is the Warmest Color (2013), Dallas Buyers Club (2013), Pride (2014), The Imitation Game (2014), The Way He Looks (2014), Carol (2014), Tangerine (2015), Moonlight (2016), Call Me By Your Name(2017), A Fantastic Woman (2017), Disobedience (2017), Battle of the Sexes (2017), The Miseducation of Cameron Post (2018), Love, Simon(2018), Rocketman (2019). Even when the gay character is used as a tool for jokes, modern cinema proved that it can be done without making fun of the gay life style, as in Scott Pilgrim vs The World (2010).

They are still mistakes along the way. Bohemian Rhapsody. Oh fucking Bohemian Rhapsody. That movie is an abomination. First (and most importantly here), its depiction of Mercury’s sexuality is of poor-taste, even less when it comes to talk about his HIV/AIDS diagnosis. Then, it was directed by a serial rapist. Finally, it’s just a awful movie which uses nostalgia as a way to convince you that you are watching something great. And IT WON 4 ACADEMY AWARDS ! FUCK. MY. LIFE.

(To all my homies who know me, off course I was going to talk about Bohemian Rhapsody at some point. I’ll take that motherfucking cinematic slap in the face to the grave).

DAWN OF A NEW GAY ?

The question is simple : has visual media abandoned the dogma of La Cage Aux Folles ? Harder answer. Yes and No.

NO, because if movies like Isn’t It Romantic (2019) in which a gay character is (even purposely) can be the protagonist’s cliché best friend still exist, it means that movies are still no over that phase of its education. Also, if someone you barely know still ask you basic offensive questions about your sexuality, it means that we’re definitely still basically fucked. Remember, media is power.

And YES, in a way, this abominable dogma is long gone thanks to TV. I know, right ? Cinema’s little bastard brother which didn’t want to talk about homosexuality in the 70s AND 80s ? One of the first shows to depict homosexuality on a regular basis was HBO’s Oz. Thank you, cable. In between stabbings, sex violence and vicious murders, there was a serious exploration of the male sexuality. Then came the 1998–1999 broadcast television season and its one-two punch. It followed Ellen’s Puppy episode (which we covered in the June 8th article).

On September 21st, 1998, Will & Grace premiered its first episode. And yes, today, we view it as a very narrow view on homosexuality. But think about it in the context of 1998. It’s a show with two of its leads unapologetically openly gay males (and a ageless woman ready to go either way). Each episode of the show was about homosexuality, and some jewish themes thanks to Grace, television’s number one fag hag. And shit, this show was funny until season 6. Like, real funny. Even the lost-in-time reboot has some redeeming qualities. Finally, on February 17, 1999, the character of Jack introduced at the beginning of the second season of Dawson’s Creek, came out as gay. Don’t underestimate the power of teens. If they’re in on it, we all are. They were woke before “woke” was a thing.

That was just the beginning.

Queer as Folk (UK and US) and The L Word became pioneers of the LGBT TV revolution.

The Office’s Oscar Martinez came out in the season three premiere (2006), to limited clichés on its part. Ugly Betty (2006–2010) was the gayest show of the 2010s. By 2009, Glee ignored the window other shows created and busted the door wild open with at least 8 regular Queer characters. That same year, Modern Family introduced us to a very stable gay couple. 2011 saw the rise and consecration (in my mind) of Max Blum on Happy Endings, the ultimate cliché-avoider of the Queer community — so not a cliché that I identify more with his flaws as a man than as a gay man. 2012’s The New Normal failed at gaining the attention it deserved. Partners (2012) failed as well, but it kind of deserved it. Brooklyn Nine Nine did something no one else did before : talk about bisexuality without making a big deal about it. Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Once and Again, Six Feet Under, The Wire, Angels in America, Desperate Housewives, Battlestar Galactica, Grey’s Anatomy, Brothers & Sisters, Skins, Greek, True Blood, The Good Wife, United States of Tara, Shameless, American Horror Story, Please Like Me, Game of Thrones, Girls, Smash, Broad City, Orange is the New Black, Grace and Frankie, The Fosters, Superstore, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt, Orphan Black, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, Transparent, Looking, The Real O’Neals, Friends From College, Sense8, One Day at a Time, This is Us, The OA, Champions, Dear White People, The Handmaid’s Tale, Pose, The Good Fight, Killing Eve, American Crime Story, The Haunting of Hill House, Now Apocalypse, Gentleman Jack, Years and Years.

They all, in small or big ways, contributed to what the situation is today. Something closer to reality, debunked of clichés. It’s a golden age to be Queer on TV.

I’ll say it a third and final time. MEDIA IS POWER. A couple of years ago, I screened my end-of-study movie called Faggot (and Other Semantics) to my schoolmates and a few faculty members. The movie was about a gay dude trying to figure out who he was as a gay man (not a coming out but a coming in story) — it was very well received. At the end of the day, the tech guy who put the movie on signaled me to come and see him. I did. He shook my hand and said ‘I didn’t know I could identify with a gay man but I did”. We’re talking about a straight single kinda annoying thirty year-old man. I wanted to slap him in the face. I kept thinking about what he told me thought. I get it now. A window opened (even for a second) in his mind because a piece of Art took the time to represent someone “different” while using universal tropes. And without making fun of the situation. It was an unwanted validation that I now fully accept. That’s why La Cage Aux Folles is wrong and its dogma can fuck off. Queer people have a voice now in the industry and are able to represent.

Queer people, REPRESENT.

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