#and it’s only got like two commenters who only vaguely remembered the series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zarnzarn · 8 months

Text

i see all these comments talking about this after the new episode, but. i would like to state for the record that stolitz isn't. toxic.

first off, the concept of a toxic and a healthy relationship are such... vague terms. when you're online, drenched in language and tight moral boundaries, trying to put a nuanced story like helluva boss's into boxes is easy to attempt and impossible to do.

a toxic relationship is one where one or both parties is maliciously affecting the other. I'm talking fetid, nasty, rude interactions where there is more hurt than love. they're unhappy more often than not when they're with their partner, there's no respect or give from the other side.

stolitz is nothing like that.

Stolas actively cares about Blitz and actually has no fear or hesitation in ADMITTING IT OUT LOUD TO OZZIE. he has been calling, texting, commenting, laughing and finding ways to spend time with Blitz. he's throwing everything he has to the wind, finding the courage to move forward with the divorce, putting everything he has into trying to keep him. he's been alone in a palace since he was born, on medication, with such less people dear to him that he remembered the circus boy who spent a day with him DECADES ago- so when blitz comes into his life and brings back in laughter and color and sex, he's holding on with everything he's got.

and blitz does care!!! he cares a LOT, the whole series we see him falling in love with stolas through SHOW NOT TELL (his expressions, his choices, his fear, his lashing out) and utterly unable to process that stolas cares about him too when talking to fizz; almost a desperate kind of denial-

cause yknow. the first time he tried to confess something to someone he really liked, he accidentally killed half the people he knew and ruined the lives of the rest?

thats gonna leave just a teensy impact on the will to express your emotions in the future, methinks.

even before that, he clearly felt like on some level that he was unworthy and he's said twice that he despises himself for the accident even though it wasn't actually his fault. being self aware doesn't stop the emotions from emotioning.

he keeps insisting its only sex so urgently to anyone who doesn't ask because he can't even imagine it being anything else. he's both disappointed and relieved when he repeats that stolas sees him as a novelty, because what else can it be?

(there's a whole other spiel of how brave both Stolas and Blitz have to be to say it out loud even when asmodeus can't afford to, considering how publically and completely beaten down both were at the club.)

(there's also another whole spiel about how frustrating it has been for ME to see all these comments over time with such bad takes based on like,, 20 min worth of info of a show that takes months to release an ep. like godDAMN have some patience?? let the story UNFOLD MAYBE? IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION WHY WOULD YOU CRITICIZE THINGS THAT ARENT EVEN FINISHED ESPECIALLY AN INDIE ANIMATION- i digress)

mind you, this has NOTHING to do with abuse. an abusive relationship is one where one is actively harming the other with full awareness. Stella is an abuser and their marriage is abusive.

and stolitz isn't that; it isn't even unhealthy or toxic. it's a consensual, transactional fuckbuddy relationship that slid into something more for both of them.

but!!!!! one of the main reasons for the problems that everyone looks over is-

they're in a BDSM relationship.

I can't possibly delve into dynamics without making this a 10k research paper BUT even though we've gotten only hints and costumes and dialogue- they're very clearly and undeniably in a BDSM contract. Behind the scenes of this crazy show is a whole different story, of these two delving into the most hardcore kinks out there- knifeplay, painplay, bondage.

if you've gotten into the community, if you've read a couple dozen particularly good fics by authors who know what they're talking about, hell; even if your only experience is fifty shades or 365 or whatever- you gotta know that BDSM scenes are crazy fucking emotionally heavy. there's so much that has gone down between them during their full moons that helluva can't get into!!

but you know how in so many of these popular medias and fics, the dom in the relationship is also like,, the billionaire/mafia heir/prince, etc, the one with financial and physical power? this isnt that. it has been very clearly stated that stolas is subbing, blitz is domming.

now take a moment and think about how much that fucks up the dynamics.

in stolas' eyes, blitz is a confident, dangerous individual who's an old friend and cherished memory of his, who he's trusted wholly with his safety during sex and he's lucky to have; and he has been in an abusive arranged marriage for the past eighteen Years, he's probably not going to be pushing his luck with his dom that much in the first place. plus, blitz is never cowed by him during their conversations- think back to the first phone call right after he stole the book, completely unafraid.

and for blitz, it's someone trusting him again- but it's also a royal- a blue blood who's nearly untouchable and so much more powerful- who couldn't possibly like a piece of shit like him, apart from the sex he gets out of it. he only flirts once he gets some sort of cue from Stolas; he's desperately trying to view this as only a Goetia trying to get his rocks off, despite all the evidence to the contrary, because anything else is unfathomable to him, no matter how clearly Stolas shows it, because of the ptsd.

both of them thinks the other has the power. both of them aren't expecting the other to keep shut if something's bothering them.

and there's so much conflicting messages from the other too!

stolas calls him a plaything when trying to intimidate the humans; stolas cups his face gently and asks if he's alright

blitz asks him on a date and tells him to get better soon; blitz yells that it's only sex and doesn't reply to his messages

ya see?

bring it to fizzozzie for a second now; even though they do look all good on surface, you can still see fizz's trauma and doubt in all their interactions, they're still forced to keep the relationship secret. do you see his face when Ozzie says in hyperbole that he's never leaving the house again, or when someone accuses him of being a pampered house pet or when he got sexualized in the 7th ep? whatever happened in the interim between the accident with mammon, it fucked him UP. even though oz seems to be well aware of this when he tells him not to apologise and in their general interactions, fizz still visibly has trouble separating plaything/commodity from healthy relationship.

shout the fuck out to Ozzie btw, man knows whats UP. rooting for these two so much omg.

i forgot where I was going with this point, I'll edit it when i remember. but yeah! lovely fucking relationship, but damn what angst filled issues.

anyway, to sum up- stolitz is not a toxic relationship. the relationship is stuck sludging through misunderstandings and careless microaggressions and trauma responses, but it's not unhealthy or toxic because of the simple reason that most of the current hurt comes from... a misunderstanding. stolas didn't realise blitz would need reassurance about what they were and blitz didn't see stolas as someone who could get hurt.

unecessarily calling it toxic, even online, is more impactful than people think too. almost all spindlehorse ARE on all social medias; so MANY YouTube animators i know have found jobs there; they see your words, especially since a lot don't tag posts with "anti hb" correctly to keep them out of the main tag. there are Very few queer medias made BY queer people that haven't gone through heavy corporate revisions- helluva boss is practically a historical landmark in its success. it's very very very fucking easy to forget that not ten years ago some of the only queer videos on YouTube were butter lover (one kiss at the end post credits), dirty paws and welcome to hell (subtext).

the amount of "critical talk" helluva boss gets for what it is is very unprecedented. it's a beautiful show. can't wait for the next episode.

#helluva boss #stolas #blitz #stolitz #fizzarolli #helluva boss ozzie #okay im gonna make SO much content but i had to get this off my chest first #because so many people were like omg fizzozzie is so healthy stolitz take a lesson!!#and theres so much more nuance to it thats its so. frustrating to see a statement like that #meta #anyways #i love this fucjing show

2K notes · View notes

sailor-aviator · 6 months

Text

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Six

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Murder, Flirty Bradley, Mean Girl Mandy, Dry humping, Kissing, Possessive Jake, Skipper having a mental breakdown of sorts.

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: I'm on a roll, y'all, but just know that a lot of this chapter was just pure self indulgence. If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The rest of the night had been a blur, your head fuzzy from your encounter on the beach. Javy and Nat had kept a close eye on you after you almost walked into the water, making sure you stayed close. The rest of the gang had checked in on you, Bob wanting to take you back home, but you had insisted that you were staying, not wanting to ruin his night. You had caused enough trouble.

Your eyes had been unfocused as you stared down at the sand, vaguely aware of everyone laughing and having a good time. Your mind felt slow, your body sluggish as you sat by the fire. Your arms were wrapped firmly around your knees where they were pressed up against you.

You jumped when someone plopped down next to you, and your eyes widened as they took in Jake’s form. He sat cross legged, back straight as he gazed into the fire.

“You’re not nearly as good at pretending as you think you are,” he murmured, peeking at you from the corner of his eye. You felt your cheeks flush as you looked away from him.

“I don’t want them to worry.”

“It’s a little late for that, I think,” he murmured, a humorless chuckle escaping him. You squeezed your knees tighter, attempting to make yourself smaller as the guilt ate away at you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you admitted quietly, feeling Jake’s stare on the side of your face. “I’m not usually like this, I swear.”

“I believe you,” he told you gently, earnestly. “No one here blames you for anything, Skipper.”

“They deserve to have fun,” you muttered miserably, feeling the tears prickle at your eyes. “They shouldn’t have to worry about me and whether or not I’m going to pass out or drown at every turn.”

“Trust me,” he said, turning to face you, “everyone here is having fun, and they like hanging out with you. If they didn’t, then they wouldn’t be worried in the first place.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, looking at him with uncertain eyes. He gave you a soft smile, nodding.

“Promise.”

Bob had come to collect you shortly after, the smell of beer on his breath as he dragged you to your feet, insisting that he was tired and that it was time to go home. You had given Jake a small smile before following him back home, Mickey making sure the two of you got there in one piece.

Now, you sat on the end of the couch in Bradley and Jake’s living room, the group somber as the news from earlier that morning hung in the air.

Another body had been found, a young woman who had been visiting her family on the island. She had been at the bonfire the night before, and you remembered seeing her briefly. Her body had been found in the early hours of the morning, and the police had told reporters that they were investigating all angles, meaning that despite the apparent murder spree, there had been alcohol in her system and they weren’t sure yet if she had been the victim of a freak accident or a murder.

“Mav won’t tell me much,” Bradley said, scratching his chin. “But he told me they think it’s connected to the others, even with all the beer she drank.”

“Should he really be telling you all of that?” Reuben asked, an incredulous look on his face. “I know he’s your godfather and all, but still.”

Bradley shrugged, seemingly nonplussed at the idea.

“We should go out and do something,” Nat suggested, looking around at everyone. “I don’t want to sit here and think about this all day. We need to go and get our minds off it.”

“And do what, exactly?” Mickey drawled, raising an eyebrow at her.

“We could go to the boardwalk?” Javy suggested, looking around at everyone as Mickey let out a groan.

“Again?” He asked. “There’s only so many times I can ride the coaster before it stops becoming fun.”

“Then ride something else,” Nat snarked, rolling her eyes.

“I think the boardwalk sounds like fun,” you smiled. “We could go swimming after? It would be a shame to waste the day inside.”

“I agree,” Jake nodded beside you, barely letting your mouth close before doing so. “Skipper makes a good point.”

“I’m sure she does,” Reuben snorted. You saw Jake frown at the other man as Mickey and Bob both tried to disguise their laughter with coughs.

“I’ll do whatever,” Bradley chimed in, looking more bored than anything. “Just so long as I don’t have to keep sitting here.”

“Wait,” Bob said, brow furrowing. “Isn’t the ocean dance festival tonight?”

Nat let out a groan as Mickey wrinkled his nose.

“They’re still doing that with everything going on?” He asked.

“Damn, I completely forgot about that,” Nat muttered, checking the time on her phone. She looked up at you, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Skipper, you didn’t happen to pack a fancy dress or anything, did you?”

“No?” You said slowly, regarding her carefully. She blew out a breath, nodding.

“Didn’t think so,” she muttered, moving to stand. “Well, you boys will have to have fun without us. Skipper and I have some shopping to do.”

“What?” You asked, eyes widening as Nat pulled you to your feet.

She chuckled. “We have to go get you a dress for tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Reuben laughed, “the ocean dance festival is the one event all the girls in town look forward to. It’s an excuse for them to get all dressed up in pretty, fancy dresses and elaborate makeup while the rest of us try to decide which shirt is nice enough for us to pair with our jeans.”

“Ignore him,” she scowled, turning her attention back to you with an excited look. “It’s a lot of fun, Skipper. You gotta come!”

“I don’t know,” you trailed off, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I don’t even think I have enough to buy a fancy dress…”

“I’ll get one for you,” she said, raising her hand as you moved to protest. “Please, call it a ‘welcome to the island’ gift.”

“Also known as ‘Nat hasn’t gotten to play dress up with anyone in God only knows how long,’” Bradley joked, earning a glare from the brunette. Nat turned her pleading gaze to you, and you felt your resolve crumple.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Fine.”

An hour later you had a dress in your hands, Natasha still gushing about it beside you.

“You look so pretty in it, Skipper!” She exclaimed, mouth curved into an infectious grin, excitement radiating off of her in waves. “You’re going to be the talk of the town!”

“I highly doubt that, Nat,” you giggled.

“Trust me,” she chuckled, wiggling her eyebrows at you, “no one will be able to keep their eyes off of you once I’m through.”

You shook your head, not able to keep the amused smile off your face as the two of you made your way down the boardwalk. Several people were decorating a roped off area. Balloons, streamers, and ocean themed decorations littered the area, a stage sitting off to the side where a group of musicians were setting up their equipment.

“They really go all out for this dance, huh?” You mused, and Nat nodded.

“It’s been a part of the summer festivals since the town was founded. The city council and founding daughter’s group goes all out, which is the biggest reason why it wasn’t cancelled this year,” she explained. You hummed, eyes drifting to the familiar shop sign, and your eyes lit up.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, grabbing her hand. “Can we go in here really quick? There was something I wanted to get.”

“Mrs. Cambroni’s shop?” Nat frowned. “What could you possibly need from in here?”

“You’ll see,” you smiled. “Come on!”

The bell chimed as the two of you stepped in, and you greeted the old woman behind the counter with a smile. A handsome man stood with her, his eyes trained on the two of you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had seen him somewhere before. His mocha skin had an underlying gold tone to it, dark hair cropped short. His dark, green eyes sent a shiver up your spine as he watched you.

“Good morning, dear!” Mrs. Cambroni greeted. “Back so soon?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’m actually looking for something, and I wondered if you might have it.”

“I’ll bet you anything she does,” the man chuckled. “My aunt has almost everything under the sun here in her little shop.”

“Oh, how rude of me,” Mrs. Cambroni muttered. “This is my nephew, Cole. He’s in from out of town. Natasha, dear, you remember Cole, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, shooting him a small wave. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Likewise,” he hummed, eyes darting back to you. “And you are?”

“Oh, sorry,” you blushed. “I’m Skipper.”

He chuckled once more. “That’s an unusual name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you murmured, ducking your head out of embarrassment. “It’s just what everyone calls me.”

“What was it you were looking for, dear?” Mrs. Cambroni asked you. “Was it something for the festival tonight?”

“Sort of,” you started, moving forward and digging in your bag. You pulled out the large, black pearl, showing it to her. “I was hoping you’d have something for me to put this in so I could wear it.”

“I have just the thing,” she smiled, rounding the corner of the counter as she darted off to one of the far corners of the shop.

“Will we see you at the festival tonight, Cole?” Nat asked him, moving to stand next to you. Cole laughed lightly, ducking his head down before looking back up at her.

“I might make an appearance, yeah. It’ll be nice to see some familiar faces again.”

“You’re from here?” You asked him. He nodded.

“Grew up here before deciding to go to school down south. I live there full time now, but figured I’d come up and visit with my aunt for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” you grinned. Your grin faded as the nagging feeling in the back of your head grew louder. You knew him, you were sure of it. “I’m so sorry, but have we met?”

He grinned at you. “Not officially, but you did bump into me the other day over by the tilt-o-whirl.”

“Oh,” you balked. His words sank in, and you felt your skin flush as embarrassment washed over you. “Oh. Oh my god. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all water under the bridge,” he said, waving you off. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen victim to that damn thing myself.”

You smiled at his words, feeling the tension lift from your shoulders.

At that moment, Mrs. Cambroni came walking back over, a golden chain dangling from her hand. It was beautiful, the chain holding a collection of smaller ones that held a cradle for a pearl to rest in, practically forming a raindrop. The old woman held her hand out, and you placed the black pearl gently in her outstretched palm. She fiddled with the necklace before showing it to you proudly.

“Turn around, dear, and I’ll put it on you.”

You did as instructed, moving your hair to give her easy access. Once she was done, she gestured towards the mirror that rested on top of the counter.

“Have a look!” She smiled. You did so, marveling at how the pendant rested perfectly just above the curves of your breasts.

“It’s perfect!” You gushed, looking over at her. She returned your smile warmly resting a hand against the counter.

“You know,” she began, a knowing glint in her eye. “The ocean dance festival has a longstanding tradition in this town as being a way for sea people to gain the attention of a potential mate.”

You could practically feel Natasha’s eye roll as you looked at the old woman, eager to hear more.

“It was a festival where potential mates dressed up in their best clothing to attract attention. Boys and girls alike dressed in elaborate costumes to showcase their assets,” she hummed as you paid for the necklace. “But, I suppose now it’s just an excuse for young ladies like yourself to get all dolled up for an evening of fun.”

“We have a friend who said something similar, actually,” you giggled. Mrs. Cambroni smiled, and Natasha grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door.

“Well, it’s been fun, Mrs. Cambroni, but we only have so much time to get ready before the festival starts. It was good to see you, Cole!” she called over her shoulder as she walked through the door.

“Why do you keep doing that?” You scowled at her as she dragged you down the street and towards her house.

“Because Cambroni is a nut,” she retorted, sparing you a glance from over her shoulder. “And you should take everything she says with a grain of salt. Besides, I wasn’t kidding. We only have so long before the festival starts, and while I am skilled at what I do, I need all the time I can get to get us both ready.”

Five hours later, and you found yourself standing on the boardwalk once again, fingers fidgeting with the green tulle of your dress. Nat had done an amazing job, not that you were surprised. The dress she had picked out for you was a beautiful sage green, puffy sleeves hanging off the shoulder as they met at the sweetheart neckline. Your new necklace hung just above your cleavage, and your makeup was simple, more natural looking than her own. She had kept it light, forgoing much of the costume vibes that other girls had seemingly gone for. Your eyes were dusted in a gold powder along with the edges of your lips, tiny pearls scattering the edges of your eyes. She had smeared some of the gold dust along your neck as well as your shoulders and collarbone, nothing to ostentatious, but just enough to draw attention to the skin there.

Nat herself looked absolutely stunning. Her red dress was strapless, a bunch of fabric folded on her hip to give the appearance of a rose bloom. Red eyeshadow creeping up her temples, and she had chosen a dark red lipstick to complete the look. She was beautiful, and she carried herself with confidence.

“Where are those idiots,” Nat muttered to herself, typing away at her phone as she attempted to track down the rest of your friends. A low whistle had the two of you turning, seeing Bradley with a wide grin on his face as he looked at the two of you along with the rest of the boys.

“Well, don’t you two clean up nice,” he hummed, eyes taking you both in appreciatively, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. Nat frowned at him, giving him a once over, taking in his jean shorts and Hawaiian shirt.

“Did you even try?” She asked him.

“The ladies love me for what I offer, Natasha,” he retorted with a wistful sigh as he shoved his hands his pockets.

“And what is that? An eighties porno stache and a collection of bargain bin dad shirts?” She threw back, causing snickers to float around your little group. Bradley took it in stride, smiling lazily at her as he shot you a wink.

“She’s just mad because she doesn’t look as good as we do, Skipper,” he whispered to you conspiratorially, causing you to giggle.

“Keep dreaming, Bradshaw,” Nat laughed, eyes peeking over at Javy who looked at her fondly. You smiled at the sight, eyes drifting over the group before they landed on those oh so familiar green ones.

Jake’s eyes bore into you, drinking you in, and you suddenly felt self conscious under his gaze. You smiled at him shyly, and you saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“You look great, Skip!” Bob chirped as he popped up beside you. You broke eye contact with Jake to smile up at your best friend.

“Thanks!” You said, giving him a once over and cocking an eyebrow. “Did your mom make you wear that?”

“That obvious, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Only a little,” you giggled.

“Man, I’m starving!” Mickey groaned. “Let’s go get some food!”

He moved towards the growing crowd as the rest of you followed suit. Jake fell in step next to you, eyes still watching you.

“You look nice, too,” you whispered, watching as a dusting of pink made its way onto his cheeks. He smiled warmly at you.

“Not as nice as you do,” he murmured. You felt yourself preen at his words, pushing your shoulders back slightly. Jakes eyes darted down, widening at the sight of your pendant. He looked like he was about to say something, but a voice cut him off.

“Jake!”

The two of you turned to see an older woman, maybe in her late forties, waving at him. Her blonde hair was piled intricately in an updo, her white dress glowing in the setting sun. Jake smiled at her before looking back at you, gesturing for you to follow him.

She was even more beautiful up close, smile lines evident on her face as her eyes darted between the two of you, a question in her green eyes.

“Hey, mom,” Jake greeted her, wrapping her in a hug. “Wasn’t expecting to see you so early in the night. Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, your father wanted to wrap some things up at the office,” she chuckled, eyes trained on you as she spoke, a kind smile on her red lips. “Who might this be?”

“Mom, this is Skipper,” he said, smiling down at you softly. “Skipper, this is my mom, Nicola.”

“Please, honey. Call me Nikki,” she hummed at you, eyeing your neck. “My, don’t you look a vision tonight?”

“Oh, thank you,” you blushed. “I love your dress.”

“This old thing?” She scoffed, smiling warmly. “I’ve worn this dress to this festival for the past five years. I’ve been meaning to go out and get a new one, but who has the time?”

“Mom is one of the main people who plans this festival,” Jake explained.

“It’s always been my favorite,” she sighed, eyes growing hazy as she lost herself in thought. “It’s where your father and I became exclusive, you know.”

“Oh, like those stories,” you said. Nikki’s eyes looked at you curiously, and you felt yourself blush once again. “Mrs. Cambroni was telling me about the origin of the festival this morning.”

“Goodness, that woman certainly loves to meddle, doesn’t she?” Nikki hummed. Her attention was drawn away from you as a figure joined you.

“Hi, Nikki,” Mandy drawled, a tight smile on her face.

Nikki smiled warmly at her, taking in her appearance. Mandy wore a dark blue dress that hung off her shoulders, the neckline dipping dangerously low as the rest of the material clung to her every curve. Her eyes were painted in dark blue powder with gold accents, her lips a ruby red. She looked perfect.

“Hi, honey!” Nikki chirped. “You look…nice this evening!”

“Thank you,” Mandy smirked, eyes darting over to look at Jake, a frown on his lips. “I had this dress custom ordered for the occassion.”

“Mandy, do you know Skipper?”

Mandy glanced at you, smirk turning cruel as she took you in.

“Well,” she chuckled. “Looks like you clean up well after all. What a lovely surprise.”

You felt a wave of embarrassment roll over you, eyes darting around to try and find an exit from the suddenly tense conversation. Nikki seemed to notice the shift as well, and she frowned, eyes peering at Mandy who seemed none the wiser. The brunette turned to Jake with a smile as the band began to play.

“Jake, you’ll dance with me, won’t you?” She asked him, batting her eyelashes. You weren’t a jealous person, and you especially weren’t when it came to someone you weren’t dating. That’s why it came as a surprise to you when anger rose up in your throat at the way she looked at him, the mark on your neck pulsing. Mine, it said.

You were briefly aware of the smirk that adorned Nikki’s lips before she turned to Mandy.

“Actually, honey,” she interjected, “I was hoping you could come help me with something.”

Mandy gritted her teeth but offered the older woman a tight smile. “Of course.”

Nikki gestured for the brunette to follow, casting one last look over her shoulder at you, eyes shining mischeivously before disappearing into the crows. Jake let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair nervously before looking over at you.

“Do you,” he started, shifting from one foot to the other. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Your eyes met his green ones, shining with anticipation.

“I would love to,” you said softly. Jake beamed, moving to rest a gentle hand on the small of your back as he guided you towards the dancefloor. Several other couples swayed with the music, and you grinned when you saw Javy and Nat across the way, Nat’s head resting against his chest as he held her gently.

Your attention was torn away as Jake’s hands moved to rest on your hips, and you placed your arms around his neck. The air around you seemed to buzz with a pleasant warmth, the warmth of his hands causing heat to spread through you.

“Your mom is nice,” you commented in an attempt to distract yourself from the all consuming feeling as the two of you began to move with the music.

“She is,” he agreed, smiling down at you fondly. “She likes you, too.”

“How do you know that?” You asked him with a chuckle.

“She wouldn’t have dragged Mandy away if she didn’t,” he surmised, thumb stroking along your hip, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I thought she liked Mandy?”

“She does,” Jake replied. “In her own way. She knows Mandy can be…difficult.”

You hummed. “Then why did she want you to be with her?”

Jake sucked in a breath, lips forming a grimace as he answered. “Her and Mandy’s mom have been friends since they were in diapers. Their dream was for their kids to one day end up together, getting married and growing old. We come from two very prominant families, and it was an added bonus that us being together would help present a picture perfect ideal to everyone else. It was perfect.”

You noted the sense of bitterness his tone took on as he spoke, and your thumb brushed softly against the nape of his neck, causing him to suck in a small breath and tighten his hold on your waist ever so slightly.

“But?” You asked him, and he sighed.

“But, I wasn’t happy,” he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. “I love my parents, but their dream wasn’t mine. I’ve only ever wanted to make them happy, and if it meant putting my own happiness on the backburner, then I was willing to do that.

“And now?” You whispered, the two of you slowing to a stop as the song ended. Jake’s hands still gripped you tightly, no sign of letting go as he stared at you.

“Now,” he said slowly, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

The two of you stood in the middle of the dancefloor as the band moved into the next song, the couples around you beginning to move again. You suddenly felt too warm, and Jake must have noticed your change in demeanor because he pulled away from you, hand gripping your left one as he dragged you away from the crowd. You let him lead you through the throng of people, and you noticed Mickey, Reuben, and Bob chatting with Mrs. Cambroni and Cole, all of them laughing amongst each other. Mrs. Cambroni caught your eye and shot you a wink as she sipped from her glass. You saw Bradley, Javy, and Nat laughing not too far away, but it was the cold, calculating blue eyes that cut through the warmth that surrounded you.

Mandy watched as the two of you maneuvered through the crowd. She disappeared from sight as Jake rounded the stage, the wall blocking most of the sound as he led you further down the otherwise deserted boardwalk. The music faded as the two of you kept walking, and finally Jake came to a hault. He turned, hands grasping your waist as he lefted you onto the railing, making sure you were comfortable before stepping in to the space where your thighs were parted. His hands remained on your waist as he gazed up at you.

“Feel better?” He asked you.

“Much,” you answered, smiling softly at him. “Thank you.”

Jake hummed as his hands made small strokes up and down your waist. The two of you remained silent, just enjoying the moment.

“The others said you didn’t feel like you had options before,” you hummed quietly, eyes darting up to meet his. “I’ve been wondering what they meant by that.”

Jake didn’t say anything, eyes searching yours before slowly leaning in. You felt his warm breath fan over your face, and your heartbeat quickened in your chest. He paused, eyes hooded as he watched you, watched the way your chest heaved at his close proximity, watched as your eyes begged and pleaded with him to close the gap, but still he waited.

You let out a strangled cry as the feeling of having him so close became too much, and you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. You felt like you were melting from the inside out as your lips molded against his, and Jake let out a pleasured groan, hands pulling you closer to him as his body molded into yours. You gasped as your thighs parted even more, allowing him to press his knee into your core. Jake took advantage of this, licking into your mouth with languid thrusts that matched the slow rhythm of his thigh as it grinded against you. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on the blond locks in a way that had him moaning into your mouth. You ground your hips down experimentally onto him, earning a groan as he pulled away from you, nipping on your bottom lip before placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Such a good girl,” he moaned, lips placing hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw before moving down your neck. You tilted your head to the side, offering him more access to which he eagerly took advantage of. You let out a whimper as his lips brushed the nape of your neck, a smirk forming on his lips as he began to bite and suck on the skin there, leaving behind what was sure to be a sizeable hickey.

“Jake,” you whispered breathlessly, hips still grinding down on him. His hands glided up the expanse of your body, his right hand cupping your breast and squeezing. You threw your head back, crying out in ecstasy.

“So pretty like this, baby,” he rasped, thrusting his hips up into your clothed core. “Think you can come like this? Wish you could see yourself. See how hot you look as you’re about to come just from grinding down on me.”

Your eyes were hooded as you looked at him, silently begging him to make you come. His eyes glowed in the low light, the sun having already disappeared beneath the horizon. Jake pressed a tender kiss to your lips, and you brought a hand down to his jaw to keep him there. He pulled back slightly, one of his strong hands on your waist as he guided you over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as he watched you, a hypnotic lilt to his tone as he drank in the sight of you, fucked out and at his mercy. “And all mine. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded vigorously, words escaping you, but Jake shook his head.

“Say it,” he groaned, “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, your high so close as you rubbed yourself furiously down onto him. Jake’s eyes danced in delight, a smirk on his lips as he watched you use him for your own pleasure. But then the smirk dropped and his eyes flashed dangerously as he pulled away. You mewled at the loss of contact, reaching out fo him. He took you in his arms, spinning you so that you were pressed behind him, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of a snarl as your head whirled around you. The intense warmth spreading through you was drenched with an ice cold feeling as a familiar cry rang out in the night.

The song was beautiful, higher pitched than the others you had heard previously, sending a mix of terror and a need to obey running through you. You made to move, but Jake’s arms held you firm. The song called to you again and you felt tears spring to your eyes at the conflicting feelings inside you. You’re breath came out shaky, and Jake turned to look at you. He grabbed your shoulders gently, green eyes boring into yours desperately.

“Skipper,” he crooned, a hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. “Listen to me.”

You wanted to, but the song still called to you, warring with the one coming from Jake as he continued.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he cooed, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Stay with me. Be my good girl. ”

Your eyes darted back and forth between him and the water where the song called for you to follow. A sob wracked your body as you through yourself into Jake, arms wrapping around him as you buried your face into his neck. He shushed you, rubbing at your back gently, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of your friends joining you. A warm hand rested on your upper arm like the person was going to pull you away, and you let out a desperate cry, clinging to Jake with all your strength as he let out a snarl. You paid no mind to the conversation around you as Jake held you to him, still cooing a song into your ears. You weren’t sure when exactly the other song ended, but you began to relax somewhat in Jake’s hold. You slowly came to, just as Bradley heaved out a sigh.

“Yeah, she’s staying with us tonight.”

Tag List: @jakeseresinlover @haley-hotchner @queerqueenlynn @dempy @fanficfandomlove @aworldwideapart @stoptaking-the-good-names @maximus890 @sky2nd @devil-angel-winchester @hopip99 @hookslove1592 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @imamomof8 @pietrothemovie @kmc1989 @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @hangmandruigandmav @na-ta-sh-aa @witchybabel @keyrani @i-wanna-be-your-muse @buckysteveloki-me @clancycucumber230 @dreamlandcreations @emotionallysalty @fandom-life-12 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @nouis-bum @topherwrites @squeaky-bumblbee22 @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @xl-pr @stillreadingfantasy @shibble @horseshoegirl @nerdy_tree_flower @torimcc

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin imagine #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #hangman fanfiction #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #mmats #meet me at the sea

201 notes · View notes

pagesfromthevoid · 1 year

Text

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | Epilogue

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Smuuuut. Oral (m receiving). Fingering. Body worship. PinV sex. Creampie. Mild cockwarming if you squint. Tiny bit of sub!Din but you realllllly gotta squint.

Author’s Note: Everyone thank @ablondieproduction for this. Also, ya know how I said the last part was the finale? I lied turns out. Gif from @obikenobis

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Wedding Night

“Well, well, well —you leave with a kid and come back with, what? A princess?” Peli greeted as Din held his hand out to his wife, helping her off the ship. Grogu was in his other arm.

She still wore her gown, stained with her blood as well as Credence’s, and it trailed behind her as she walked off the ship. Peli stood with her hands on her hips, staring at the three before her in confusion and disbelief.

“Peli,” he returned with a nod. Immediately, the mechanic reached out to take Grogu in her arms, and the child coped excitedly at her. “This is my wife.”

“Excuse me?” Peli exclaimed, and even her droids stopped what they were doing to see what was going on. “You got married and didn’t invite me?”

She laughed —bright, genuine and the only thing that Din wanted to hear for the rest of his life. “It was a bit last second,” she offered simply, extending her hand to the mechanic to introduce herself. “I’ve heard your mechanic skills are the best in the galaxy.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what he told ya.”

Din let out a sigh –vaguely resembling a chuckle – nodding back to the Crest. “Think you can fix it in the next week?”

Peli moved around the ship, examining it closely. “What the hell did you do to do this thing?”

“Got married,” he offered as a simple explanation. Next to him, she elbowed his side with a playful grin.

Peli stopped and looked back at him, brow raised. “Mando, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were messin’ with me.”

“But you do know better, Ms. Peli?” She asked, grinning still.

The mechanic scoffed, making a face. “Just Peli. And I do. Which means that you two actually got married on this thing —what? During a firefight? How romantic.”

Both laughed at the last comment’s clear sarcasm, earning a giggle from Grogu who basked in the joy that came from both his parents. Peli seemed struck by the sight, and Din wondered if he’d ever actually laughed in front of her before. He couldn’t remember the last time he properly felt this happy, however.

“Y’know what? Lemme watch the kid for the night,” Peli offered, bouncing Grogu on her hip. Din knew she would offer that regardless, because she always did. However, her next offer threw him off. “You two go get yourself a room and really enjoy your wedding night.”

Din thanked the Maker for his helmet, because the blush that he felt took up his neck and face and seeped over his features. But his princess didn’t hesitate to take his hand, her grin turning to an eager smile.

“And as a wedding gift —I’ll charge ya half what the repairs are.”

Din rolled his eyes, but she was pulling him towards the exit of the shop without a second thought. “Thank you, Peli! You are wonderful.”

He swore, as he was hurried out the door, Peli said to Grogu, “Maybe you’ll get a sibling tonight.”

*****

There was no hesitation as soon as they got into their room at the inn. Her hands were on him, revealing his face to her. Anyone else would have called her desperate for how she touched him –how she needed to taste him on her lips and see every part of him like it was the first time, every time. The dark curls that fell over his eyes, which could hold every star in the galaxy if she could capture them all. Everything about Din Djarin was beautiful, and she thanked the Maker for every second she got to touch him.

His helmet was discarded to the nightstand without much thought, and her mouth was on his as soon as it was out of the way. Din responded with fervor, yanking his gloves off and tossing them aside so his hands could card into the hair at the base of her neck and pull her into him. His lips were chapped, but soft and pliant against her’s, allowing her to be in as much control as possible. She liked how he melted into her touch; how he let her decide how far it could be taken. The feeling made her shiver in excitement, and she felt a rush of desire wash over her. Her tongue traced his bottom lip, before she pulled it between her teeth. Din is who deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth and exploring the depths of her.

When they broke apart, foreheads resting against one another, she closed her eyes for a moment to breathe. Din’s hands were still in her hair, though loosened now, as he peppered short, sweet kisses over her cheeks, nose, eyes –wherever his lips could touch.

“I need out of this awful gown,” she breathed, opening her eyes to look up at him.

“I happened to like the dress,” he admitted, just as breathless. His fingers traced over the scales of the armor that covered her body, trailing down as he lifted the skirts, showing off the remnants of battle. “Bloodstains and all.”

“You would,” she teased, reaching up to run her fingers across his jaw with a soft smile.

While it would not be the first time that she and Din touched one another, it would be the first time she could see him when they did. And she wanted to see everything. The blindfold heightened every other feeling, but to see him –every part of him –was something that she had been longing for the moment they landed on Sorgan so long ago.

The stubble along his jaw scratched her fingers, but she basked in the feeling as she mimicked his motions. Her eyes traced over the armor covering his chest, over the mudhorn signet that matched her dagger, as well as the mythosaur that was etched into his pauldrons. She had felt him under her hands before; the skin under the armor. The scars that littered his body from battle and blaster shots. There was something about feeling him that dialed her desire up higher and higher, but being able to see him…Maker help her, she was growing impatient.

She wasn’t a fool; she knew by marrying him that they would not have a peaceful life. Such was the way of the Mandalorian. But what moments of peace they had –moments like this, in that inn, alone –she was going to savor and enjoy.

“I want to see you,” she finally whispered, looking up at him. “I want to see all of you, Din.”

She watched his throat constrict as he swallowed; how his breath hitched when she said his name. Her hands traced back up to his shoulders, slowly but surely beginning to remove the armor that hid him from her. Din stood, allowing her to take her time –to appreciate everything that he had to offer her. As she moved her way down, taking pieces of his beskar with her, she admired each part of him she could. With the beskar out of the way, she pulled the pieces of his flight suit next, all but tossing the top pieces off onto the floor to reveal the broad expanse of skin she had only ever touched blindly. While he still wore the bottom half of his suit, she was content –if only for a moment –to admire what she saw before her.

Her fingers traced over his collarbone, down into the dip that formed right at the base of his throat, then back up over the otherside. There were scars all over –ones she had felt before but could finally see properly. New ones –still fresh, still trying to be held together –and old ones alike marred his skin, but as she touched each one, she couldn’t help but find each one beautiful in its own right.

Din’s hands reached for her waist, but she shooed him away with an adoring smile. “You’ve been able to see me this entire time,” she reminded him gently, slowly bringing herself to her knees in front of him. Her hands unfastened the buckles of his boots, slipping them off him with ease, before her hands reached back up to his stomach. He swallowed again, meeting her gaze as her nails dragged down his stomach and stopped just above the button of his pants. “Let me see you come undone for me.”

Her lips pressed against his lower stomach, her tongue just barely grazing over the skin there, as her hands worked the remainder of his flight suit off of him. His hands were trembling by his sides, and when she looked up at him, his eyes were closed as if he was trying to hold himself back. A devious smile spread over her lips, and Din hummed as he felt it against his skin. As she pulled the remainder of his clothes off of him, she pressed soft, wet kisses lower and lower until she was sitting on her knees with him bare before her.

“Look at me,” she ordered, though her voice was soft as her nails dragged over the exposed skin of his thighs.

Din finally opened his eyes, dropping his gaze to her as she carefully took his hardened length in her hands. He sucked in a sharp breath, trying to keep himself composed, but she didn’t want him composed. She wanted him undone from her touch, her mouth, her love.

She’d felt him before —his size, buried deep inside her —but she wanted to feel him everywhere. And so with a careful stroke of her hand, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the tip of his cock. He let out a strangled sound, legs shaking. She hummed softly, glancing up at him once more, before she pulled back just slightly.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” she commanded, pushing him backwards.

He didn’t hesitate to follow orders, sitting down and spreading his legs open for her. She settled between his knees, leaning her head against his thigh to simply admire the beauty that was her husband —staring down at her with pleading eyes.

“Look at you, mesh’la,” she murmured, earning a groan from Din as she used his language against him.

“Please,” he managed to finally say, and she couldn’t deny him her touch any more.

Sitting up on her knees, she took him in her hands once more and dragged her tongue over the underside of his cock. He threw his head back at the sensation, nails digging into the sheets of the bed, as she licked the head and budding precum clean off. Then, without warning, she wrapped her lips around him and took him entirely into her mouth, allowing herself only a moment to adjust to the feel of him on her tongue.

His hips bucked involuntarily, but her free hand —the one not working his cock as she began to suck him off —dig into the meat of his thigh. A silent warning to wait so she could take her time. His breathing was heavy, but his eyes stayed on hers as she set the pace. Her tongue traced over the veins of his cock, back over the head, and she hummed in delight as one of his hands found purchase in her hair.

Still in her bloodstained gown, on her knees in front of him, she slowed her motions —allowing Din to use his grip on her hair to control her next movements. There was a moment of hesitation —as if he was waiting for explicit permission. So she pulled back with a satisfying pop, a string of saliva shining between her lips and his cock.

“Fuck,” was all he said, staring down at her with his hand tangled in her hair. “I-I need you, riduur. I won’t —I can’t last —,”

But she simply hummed in response, pulling back entirely to rest her hands in her lap. She looked up at him as he sat up fully, waiting for him to make his move. Din leaned forward, his hand in her hair guiding her up to meet him in a heated kiss. It was all teeth, and tongues, tasting himself on her as he started to pry the gown from her body.

Unlike his beskar, her armor was only held on by a handful of buckles that trailed up her spine. Once undone —the dress simply dropped to her feet, pooled there like a sea of chainmail, blood and tulle. The underwear she wore —that, and nothing else —were the next to be pried off of her and when it was out of the way, Din’s hands were on her hips and pushing her into the sheets of the bed —all without breaking their kiss.

Her hands tangled into his hair, bringing him as close to her as she could manage as his hands roamed over every curve of her body. He laid on his side, half on top of her, and he pulled her knee up against him. His fingers, thick and warm and quick, delved between her thighs and he groaned when he felt how wet she was.

They broke apart, just enough to touch their foreheads together, as Din pressed a finger into her. She arched into the touch, his free hand gripping the calf that was pulled against him as he pulled out and pressed back in at a slow, almost painful pace. A second finger joined the first, and she gasped at the feeling of him inside her —she desperately needed more; needed him.

“Please, Din,” she begged, taking his jaw in her hands to make him look at her. Seeing him —seeing him see her —made her heart swell as she gasped from his fingers curling inside her, against a string of nerves that made her cry out. “Oh Maker —Din —I —,”

His pace didn’t slow, however —he sped up his ministrations, trailing his lips over her jaw and down her throat. She writhed under his touch, each bite and kiss like fire under her skin, as she clenched around his fingers. Her hands pulled at his hair, tugging the curls between her fingers as she cried out his name as if he was her Maker and his name was the only prayer she needed for salvation.

But too soon, he pulled his fingers from her and she fell into the bed with an empty, cold feeling where he once was. Din brought his fingers up, tapping just barely against her lips and she didn’t hesitate to take them into her mouth. Tasting herself on his fingers only fueled the fire that was blazing through her, and when he pulled his fingers from her mouth, she hauled him back into a kiss.

He was hard against her thigh, and she was desperate to feel him fill her again. Snaking her hand between their bodies, her fingers wrapped around his cock once more. His moan was swallowed into their kiss as his hips bucked into her touch. With each buck of hips, she could feel his head just barely brushing against her core.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips, wrapping her leg around his back to pull him closer. “I love you, Din.”

Understanding what she wanted, he shifted just enough to press into her slowly. “I love you too, cyar'ika. More than you could ever know.”

She kept her eyes on him as Din slowly but surely bottomed out in her, filling her with all of him. He dropped his head, burying his face in the crook of her neck as their bodies connected and filled with warmth. While she wanted him to move, and bring her over the edge that she was already teetering off of, she also wanted to see his face with his cock buried inside her.

“Look at me,” she begged, pulling his face away from her neck.

He took a breath, opening his eyes slowly to look down at her. Her hands found his jaw again, holding him there as she pressed her heel into his back, trying to bring him even further into her. He rested on his elbows above her, slowly pulling out of her before thrusting back in.

She gasped, throwing her head back as he set the pace —slow at first, but picking up speed as he pounded into her. Her fingers dug into his jaw, keeping his eyes on her as she opened her mouth in a silent cry.

He pushed himself up, drawing her in by her hips, as he thrusted into her —hard but passionate, meeting her eyes as he pressed his hand against her lower belly. She gasped at the sensation, arching off the bed when his fingers brushed against her clit. She cried out his name, chasing his touch, pleading with him harder, please, oh Maker!

Din was clearly eager to please, drawing his hips back and pulling out almost entirely —only to snap them back again and fill her. There was no helping herself as she closed her eyes, grasping at the sheets as he kept it up. His fingers circled her clit, pressing down and following the grind of her hips as she begged and pleaded with him.

His other hand gently wrapped around her throat, fingers just under her jaw to guide her gaze back to him as his thrusts became erratic. Her hands wrapped around his wrist, meeting his gaze as the buildings coil inside her finally snapped and she screamed out his name.

But his movements didn’t stop; spurred on by the clenching of her cunt around his cock, his movements only got harder and faster as he fucked her through her climax. Even as she came down from the moment, eyes full of stars and tears, he didn’t slow until with one more —two more thrusts —and he was spilling over into her. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, feel the warmth of him spreading throughout and dripping out of her. But she didn’t care, falling back into the bed as he dropped to his elbows above her once more.

They stayed like that for a long while, with him buried deep inside her and their foreheads touching. The room was thick with sex and pleasure, and eventually, Din slid his softening cock out of her. She whined at the loss, but he buried his face in her neck once more, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close to him.

She let out a sigh, running her hands through his hair. Din rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him to lay on top. He reached up, pushing the hair from her eyes, and she rested her hands on his chest, smiling down at him.

“Gar cuyir bid mesh'la,” he whispered, touch lingering on her cheek.

“Mm, can I guess?” He nodded, returning her smile with one of his own. “I think you just called me beautiful.”

“I did —because you are.”

“So are you, Din.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @lovelessprick @mxtokko @ellepascal @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dilf-din @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

#din dijarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #mando x reader

290 notes · View notes

gaysindistress · 8 months

Text

As Good a Reason - two

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?

warnings: mob!Bucky, cursing

word count: 3.1k

Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn

one | series masterlist

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.

The city never changed during her six year hiatus. Concrete jungle or whatever Jay Z said, that is how she remembered the city and as the car rolls down the streets, it’s obvious that it’s not going to change.

About the only thing that has changed is how much of an outsider Y/N feels like. This place isn’t her home, it hasn’t been since her father put a bullet in her mom right in the middle of dinner. It probably wasn’t even home for her before then but it’s all she knew. God even Phoenix in all its hot glory felt more like home than the lower east side did.

Victoria has remained eerily quiet ever since they got off the plane. Y/N passed it off as nerves but Niklaus whispered to her that neither daughter had been “home” since that night. Brock had chosen to ship Victoria off to Paris to live with some business partner of his. He said it was good for her to travel but when it was really a ploy to marry her off to a 50 year old white man.

That man ended up dead 366 days after they were married and exactly one day after the prenup ended.

Niklaus, on the other hand, was held prisoner in his childhood home and forced to learn the ins and outs of the family business. Brock needed someone to take over in the event of his early death and being the only son, Niklaus was the natural choice. Brock always wanted it to be Y/N, his youngest and most favorite, but Jasmine ruined that for him.

Either way, Y/N almost immediately decides to shoot the man dead the moment the White Wolf’s death is confirmed. She had thought about this very chance every night for six years but now she’s finally getting the chance. A part of her wants to make him suffer and the other part just wants him gone. Both agree that he needs to be dealt with as soon as possible which means cooperating for the time being.

A tall blonde is driving them and she picks up on a strange vibe the moment he gives her the up and down. Any other time and she would’ve broken his nose but Niklaus guides her away before she can do that.

“That’s Caleb Walker’s son, John,” he whispers to her as they drive.

“THAT’S John?”

Victoria smirks, “He got hot.”

“Jesus,” Y/N snorts, “He got weird and creepy.”

“Whatever. More for me then.”

Niklaus makes a face but drops it before either sister can figure out what it means. Their attention gets turned to John when he announces that they’ve arrived at the Rumlow townhouse. Y/N wants to make a comment about how far her father has fallen since she’s left and almost does although the dark presence of the man at the butt of the comment overwhelms her.

Standing on stairs is Brock and his men, all dressed like they stepped out of Call of Duty or some other war video game that teenage boys play. Another tall blonde that rubs her the wrong way flanks her father but he’s dressed alarmingly normal in jeans and a Dodgers tee shirt. Y/N points him out to her brother as they get out and he stalls for a second.

“That… that’s uhhh Steve Rogers. He works for the White Wolf.”

“Don’t tell me that he’s a glorified babysitter.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that.”

Just as they get into ear shot, they stop whispering to each other and greet everyone. Victoria makes a show of greeting Brock who can’t be bothered to even acknowledge her and keeps his whole attention on Y/N.

“There’s my baby girl,” he says with too much gusto and squeezes her too tightly in a bear hug.

She pushes against him as hard as she can to which he utters a warning into her ear of play nice or else. He gives her a fake smile when he releases her and introduces her to Steve who gently shakes her hand.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Juárez. I’ve heard so much about you.” Brock stiffens at the last name and corrects Steve.

“Sorry, Ms. Rumlow.”

After taking her hand back and exchanging pleasantries, she heads inside in the direction that she saw Victoria go. Niklaus is not far behind but he’s stopped by John who whispers something in his ear and lets him go. His face is a shade paler when he catches up to them however he refuses to say what happened. Victoria is content to unpack her own bags while Y/N helps her and eyes their brother with concern. He occasionally makes eye contact with her only to quickly break it and find lint on his pants to pick off.

Dinner rolls around and Brock requests that all three join him. Flashbacks break the surface and take over Y/N’s mind when she first sits down. Like a true villain, her father had the same dinner made from that night with the same seating so that they can relive possibly the worst night of her life. He smiles at her discomfort and preys on it like a vampire, finding delight in her shivers. As he drains her of her will to cooperate, he spills the details of his plan to kill the White Wolf.

There will be a party on Saturday that the White Wolf will be at. Niklaus and Victoria are to find and isolate him so that Y/N can deliver the kill shot.

Simple enough but still she finds every flaw in it.

Won’t he be suspicious?

If he’s going to be there, won’t he have security?

How is Y/N supposed to kill him?

Why does this “simple” plan need the Snake?

Brock slams his hand on the table and stops her line of questioning, saying, “Because your brother and sister are too fucking stupid to do it. I’ve already tried them and that’s how we got into this position in the first place. I need you to do it.”

“Weren’t you the one who told me to never reveal all of my cards?” Y/N asks as she takes a drink of her wine.

Brock’s nostrils flare and he squeezes his glass so hard it threatens to break, “I swear to god, Y/N.”

“You must be really desperate.”

“Y/N.”

She takes another sip of wine, “Only a truly desperate man would turn to his enemy for help.”

“You’re not my enemy. You’re my daughter even if your mother was a whore and a liar.”

That strikes a cord.

“Say one more thing about her and I will kill you right now.”

Brock laughs in her face, “I’d like to see you try.”

When she doesn’t answer, he continues on explaining his plan for the party. Victoria and Niklaus are listening enough for Y/N to drown everything out.

She squeezes her eyes shut and repeats a mantra to herself;

He’s next.

She opens her eyes, inhales deeply, exhales, and takes a sip of her wine.

“Is there a dress code for this party?”

Steve slides into his car and calls the White Wolf the moment the door closes.

“What do you got for me?” he asks when he answers the phone.

“She hates him with a burning passion. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that she’s here plotting his death, not yours.”

The other man chuckles, “That so?”

“How much did Sam tell you about her mom,” Steve pauses as he searches through his texts for the name, “Jasmine Rumlow?”

“Enough to know that it wouldn’t surprise me if Brock turns up dead tomorrow morning. Did you get anything else?”

“She’s going to be the key to taking out his operation. He has a soft spot for her so we can exploit that but it might be easier to exploit hers, push her to help us.”

The White Wolf sighs and takes a moment to think before answering, “Do we know what that is or are you expecting me to figure it out when she’s pointing a gun at me?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Is that your way of saying that I need to be back here tomorrow?” “And the day after that. Don’t let her leave your sight until you know what her weaknesses are. Even if she hates mornings, I want to know everything.”

“Copy that.”

Growing up with Caleb Walker at Brock’s side meant that Y/N did know his son, John but he stayed out of their fathers’ ways. Maybe it was his parents wanting to protect him or maybe it was that he knew from a young age what a monster Brock was. Either way he failed whoever wanted to protect him.

Working in the same role as his father, John never leaves Brock’s side and it’s unnerving to Y/N. When Brock moved, John moved. When Brock breathed, John breathed. When Brock tried to assert dominance over Y/N, John did the same. The most recent example of this is how he grips at her arm and nearly throws her through her bedroom door after she got caught sneaking back into the house.

“What were you thinking?” he demands, his voice bouncing off the walls and echoing deep into her ears.

Y/N shakes off his hand and voice as she walks towards her bed. She drops herself down and starts to take off her shoes which angers him even more. His question rings out again but she doesn’t care to answer it. He asks for a third time and she stops what she’s doing, straightens up, and half turns to him.

“I’ll answer you when you stop yelling at me.”

He scoffs and puts his hands on his hips, “I don’t have time for this.”

“And I have all the time in the world.”

Shaking his head, he looks to the ground and takes a deep breath, “Fine.”

Y/N goes back to untying her shoes and kicks them off when he finds the peace inside himself to ask the question again. “I won’t be a prisoner while I’m here. Brock might tell you differently but what I’m telling you is to take the presidency; I can and will leave whenever I want. If the White Wolf is really that big of a threat, then I’ll check in with you but no one is going to track, follow, or stalk me.”

John nods along even though deep down it’s painful to be taking orders from her.

“Since the stupid party has a dress code, Vic, Niklaus, and I will be going shopping. If I see anyone tailing us, I will be shooting out their tires and you,” she pauses to turn and look at him, “will get the brunt of my wrath, understood?” John sniffs aggressively but nods in understanding nonetheless. Y/N finishes taking her shoes and socks off before going to her closet to change. He doesn’t leave or move, annoying her even more than she already is. She wants to huff at the invasion of privacy but it won’t be her any good. With her luck, he’ll take it as her being hurt or worse; a threat to his manhood. Before she can think of something snarky to say, John speaks up and starts into the nostalgia of her being back. He goes on and on about how he never thought he would see her again and how he always thought that they would end up together.

Pulling a sweatshirt over her head, Y/N stops in the closet entrance and stares blankly at him. He grows uncomfortable and shifts but keeps up with his line of wishful thinking.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” she says, interrupting his tangent about how he had a crush on her growing up, “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about our childhood from your point of view. I don’t want to hear about how happy you are that I’m back. I don’t want to hear any of it because I don’t care, John. As soon as I’ve outlived my usefulness with the White Wolf or whoever else Brock pissed off, he’ll send me away or kill me and honestly, I’m good with either. I don’t want this life and I never have so please spare me the romantics of it all.”

The door slams almost immediately after she finishes and she lets out a deep sigh. Of course it would take crushing his dreams of them being endgame to get him to leave. On the bright side, maybe he won’t bother her anymore or it could go the other way and he’ll be stuck to her like glue.

Y/N chooses to not think about it anymore and falls onto her back on her bed, allowing the comfort of the blankets to engulf her. Time slips away from her as she lets her worries and stress disappear even if for a minute or two. Nothing is ever really stressful free for her, not when her father is still alive and controlling her life.

There had been a time, maybe two years into living in Phoenix, did she think that it would be possible to be free form Brock. Maria and her were in the middle of moving from their first tiny apartment to the one she left behind when the letter showed up. It was simple and with no address. All the letter said was “Don’t get comfortable.” Maria hid it as soon as she found it and tried her hardest to hide any fears that it brought it up but it only worked for a few months after that. A car crash is what took Maria but Y/N always knew that it was more than that; a planned attack or something like that. In hindsight, it could’ve been this White Wolf and not Brock but that would mean that he’s been pulling the strings for far longer than she knew or wanted to admit.

Her phone rings on the nightstand, drawing her back to reality and she groans as she grabs it. There’s no caller ID so she’s hestiaant to answer and lets it go to voicemail. Dropping herself back onto her bed, she doesn’t get a second to enjoy it because it starts ringing again. No caller ID flashes once more and she figures that if she doesn’t answer it now, whoever it is will keep calling all night long.

“What do you want?” “No hello?” a man’s voice comes through, harsh and thick but with an undertone of something she can’t place.

“What do you want?” “Open your curtain.”

She closes her eyes in annoyance, “no. You have three seconds to tell me what you want before I hang up.”

“Assuming your father is going to be the most predictable thing and try to pull something at the party, I’m having a dress delivered for you to wear. Something a little different from those cargo pants you wear everyday.”

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this is the White Wolf asshole that Brock is obsessed with.”

He chuckles, deep and profound, “Ouch. I don’t think I’m an asshole.”

“Well,” Y/N starts as she sits up and pushes the curtain back to peer out the window, “if the shoe fits.”

Across the street is a blacked out car however she can only assume that the man on the phone is sitting in it. Her assumption is correct. The passenger window rolls down and a dark haired man waves at her. From this distance she can’t make out too many details but she can see the speckles of facial hair and penetrating eyes.

“I fully expect you to be wearing my dress and if you’re not, I’ll be very upset, little snake.”

“I’ll try but no promises.”

“Oh and it goes without saying, don’t tell your father we talked.”

Y/N hangs up without answering and the man continues to stare up at her as another man gets out of the car with a big black box in hand. He puts it down in front of their gate and returns to his car. The White Wolf gives her a grin to match his name and the two drive away.

That box sits in her closet for almost three days before she opens it. The decision comes after a few failed shopping trips and with her returning with one dress she only got because Victoria didn’t want to leave it at the store. Y/N and Niklaus argued with her for a solid 45 minutes about how stupid it was to buy a dress only because you don’t want someone else to have it.

Of course her response was that she’ll find another time to wear it if Y/N choose something else. The shimmery emerald green material shines too much and the deep front v cuts too low for her liking hence why she’s sitting in her closet with the box in front of her. She’s been staring at it for probably 15 minutes now and the looming pressure of the party tomorrow is starting to get to her. Aside from the dress being generally not something she would wear, it feels impractical to wear if she’s going to complete a mission.

Curiosity gets the better of her logic and she’s tearing into the box before she knows it. In the white tissue paper lies a simple black dress. No jewels or gems, no elaborate hems, or fancy material. Pulling out the dress, she gets a better look at the floor length dress that will no doubt hug her figure. The boat neck line provides the cover that her sister’s dress lacks and she quickly shoves the dress back into its box.

“No, no. no,” she whispers to herself as she drums her fingers against the lid, “I’m not wearing it. I can’t. I won't.”

It calls to her, chanting her name from beneath her hand.

She slowly reopens it, letting her hands drift over the fabric as she battles with herself about it, “No I can’t wear this. I mean…. I could. It’s more practical. I could probably fight in it. It’d be easier…”

She trails off in her internal line of arguing as she feels its softness.

“I’ll just try it on first.”

Famous last words.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mob au #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes imagine #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #marvel #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky x reader #winter soldier imagine #as good a reason bucky barnes

121 notes · View notes

thenamesblurrito · 8 months

Text

assorted Transformers fics to rec (part two!)

first list here! have more fics i missed the first time or discovered since then or were recommended to me by others! if you decide to read these, i recommend leaving a comment if you can to encourage the writers and show some love! 🥰 note: the ones marked with * were ones i read a long time ago and did not reread before adding them to this list, so i am going off the good vibes in my memory

An Act of Revenge for Crimes Uncommitted

canon soup, incomplete, AO3. young Orion Pax wakes up mutilated, empurata'd, and his assailants punished him for the crimes of one Optimus Prime. ooooo this is kind of heartwrenching, truly intriguing and unjust and mmmmm drama. time travel, gore, mind the tags here, a fascinating look at a bad timeline! some of the functionism stuff in here actually helped inspire my own functionist setup in SNAP

Blackout and Reboot

canon soup, complete multichap, AO3. amnesia was not on the table when Thundercracker agreed to go undercover as a human. giant robot aliens weren't on the table when Marissa took it upon herself to help the weirdest guy she'd ever met. it's a match made in heaven. i love this fic okay it's got some fantastic wth moments and TC being TC and Marissa being awesome and just. i like it. the writing could use some technical polish but the action and plot concept are good, and the fun alien/human interactions are my jam. has a sequel i haven't read

Canonfodder*

TFP, incomplete, Spacebattles. a series of harrowing updates from a poor hapless nobody isekai'd into the body of a Vehicon on dead Cybertron, and all the nonsense that spirals from there. i like this one, the pacing can get a lil jagged and the technical skill of the writing is a bit off but that's often the nature of these forum fics, i didn't mind it. definitely love the inclusion of Kup, and space video games, and the limited but interesting choices the protag can make when presented with such a dismal situation makes for a very compelling, journal-style story. if you don't know how to navigate forum fics like this, just use the links in the first post to skip to each snippet

Catching Feelings

TFA, oneshot with sequel, AO3. Bumblebee and Charlie are clearly a Thing, so what's Optimus doing thinking about her so much? honestly i just like this ship concept especially in a TFA context, it's very cute and awwwww poor Op, sorry you're experiencing emotions!

Commonality and Misunderstandings

canon soup, incomplete, AO3. a collection of scenes showing just how humans and mecha can figure each other out, no matter how wide the cross-cultural divide. this is cute! i like the human OCs and the shenanigans. talks about gender perceptions, has some mech-preg mentions, and hits some good emotional moments

the consequences of being a vehicle on Earth - even if only as a part-timer

TFA, oneshot, AO3. out of everyone who has to deal with the legality of autonomous sentient vehicles, it's Fanzone. dear god, save him. a very funny little read that honestly addresses some things i constantly wonder about re: driving laws and the bots. nothing more tortuous than the DMV!

Curious Thing, Isn't It?

vaguely G1, oneshot, AO3. the Ark crew, freshly crashed on Earth and uncomprehending of English, discover one of the tiny squishy native inhabitants. a very cute little scene, i love the variety of reactions and how they treat the kid they found

A Fourth to Remember

G1, oneshot, AO3. it's the 4th of July, and Wheeljack has taken it upon himself to make a fireworks show. lovely little story of his typical nonsense taken large-scale, and some interesting culture collision too!

The Great Space Opera

IDW/TFP crossover, incomplete, AO3. Brainstorm does a whoopsie and uh oh, is that Team Prime in the Lost Light? only a little bit written but VERY fun and i love the mindbending reactions of Ratchet meeting Ratchet. the whole premise is just. mwah

Introduction to Cybertronian Biomechanics

canon soup, incomplete, AO3. a small collection of medical essays and articles detailing a breakdown of anatomy. really fascinating, very coherent explanation that manages to condense canon and fanon into something understandable, perhaps even plausible!

Liberty Island's Decisive Battle: Godzilla vs Trypticon!

Aligned/Godzilla crossover, oneshot, AO3. when Trypticon is resurrected by dark energon and heads towards New York, Fowler remembers a certain other giant lizard monster that might be able to help. Rescue Bots cameo, Miko gets to speak Japanese, Godzilla is awesome, this is just the fic ever

Malto Family Search & Rescue

ES, oneshot, AO3. a Decepticon named Thundercracker shows up at the Malto home in the middle of the night to beg a vital favor: help find his lost dog! SUCH a cute and good and wonderful little fic that fits right in to canon!! i love TC and i love the Malto family interactions and just. oogh lovely little fic. has sequels that i am saving for a rainy day pick me up

marriages of convenience (and the inconvenience of explaining them)

IDW, oneshot, AO3. Minimus is a widower. this fun fact is dropped rather unceremoniously. the painful awkwardness is marvelously in character, there are feelings and funnies and an uncomfortably heartfelt discussion about this matter-of-fact revelation that manages to characterize each of them so well, especially Minimus

Murder Mystery Night

IDW, oneshot, AO3. it's NIGHTBEAT'S NIGHT, BABY! lovely little mystery following around the Lost Light's greatest detective when a fun game night is abruptly shut down by a real actual murder! can Nightbeat find the killer in time?

nothing is more sacred than any other thing

vaguely G1, oneshot, AO3. Skyfire is a nerdy scientist with nerdy friends, which means most shenanigans surrounding him are nerdy. very cute and fun little fic about friends and mushrooms and Starscream being duped! first in a series of oneshots that i haven't gotten around to reading yet but look equally lovely

Objectification

G1, oneshot, AO3. a human and a Cybertronian have very different opinions on who exactly the victim is in an oversexualized music video. stupid funny and good, just the way i like it! last line kills me

Optimus Prime is Destined to Die!!

canon soup AU, incomplete, AO3. poor little Orion is isekai'd into a Cybertronian fantasy light novel as one of the soon-to-die forgettable side characters: the cold prince Optimus Prime. supposed to be MegOp but that hasn't really shown up yet. fantastic premise i leapt at immediately, with interesting royal politics and classic isekai tropey vibes. it's a little slow in places from a lot of (warranted!) purple prose introspection, but i find it cool enough to read through and follow poor Orion adjusting to his new existence!

Return Me to the Stars

TFA AU, incomplete, AO3. when a near-dead little Prime is picked up by the Nemesis, it sparks a lot of shenanigans, mysteries, and interesting political developments, all thanks to Optimus being Optimus. i really love the way this fic is developing, with a terrified Autobot in enemy territory doing the best he can, an expanded cast of Decepticons, a lot of fun worldbuilding, and very engaging and dynamic interactions. features a good bit of whump for our tough lil Prime. tagged as MegOP which is still slowly developing, pretty realistically taking their time to find some kind of even footing without breaking their characterization which i greatly appreciate! the writing itself could use some spellchecking but the plot and pacing are very engaging nonetheless

Scaredy-Car

G1, oneshot, AO3. i love a good comedic misunderstanding and boy the assumptions people are making about Breakdown are WHOOF. kinda cracky, a smidgeon dirty, and just the right amount of loserness that is the entirety of the Decepticon army

The Season of the Smallest Stars

sorta IDW/Stardew Valley crossover?, incomplete, AO3. you weren't expecting a small troop of adorable little robots to help you with your farmwork. a very soft cute little fic, i love it!!! never played SV but it's easy enough to follow along anyway, and i love the cute beeping Lost Light bots helping out our farmer

Second Star From Morning

technically IDW, incomplete, AO3. only a little bit written but SELF INSERT BABYYYYYYYYY gotta love it when your protagonists are aware that this is in fact a fictional character! the panic, the questions, the wahuh?? captivating premise, i hope the author comes back to it someday

Skywarp And The Wonders Of The Unnatural World

G1, oneshot, AO3. their summary sums it up best: "The Elite Trine have a very serious and mature debate on the existence of mythical creatures." extremely funny to me, i LOVE when they're stupid and petty and catty and silly!! Skywarp is so dumb i love him so much

Small Problems*

G1, ongoing series, AO3. average human Crystal finds some shrunken Autobots lost in the big city, and her life only gets weirder from there. an OC-centric series that--spoilers for later in the series--may have been one of the original "human turned into Transformer" fics! the whole series goes from sweet and funny to heartwrenching and angsty, with a lot of in between. i love the OC and sympathize with the horrible things she ends up going through, and also the heights to which she rises! slowburn Prowl/OC, with a bit of love triangle with Jazz in there too (funfact this was the second ever piece of media in which i encountered Blurr)

Sparkless

TFP, incomplete, AO3. a Vehicon left behind finds itself fixed up by a human, and might just gain some personhood along the way. a VERY sweet little story oogh i love this Vehicon!! poor thing i want to give them hot chocolate and a blankie. it's a lovely story with an intriguing premise

Stop Me*

TFP, incomplete (but with over 200 chapters), FFN. Starscream nearly dies at the claws of the Predacons... and then he's alive again, in the past, as if none of that ever happened. a rather (in?)famous fic in the fandom, i've found, although when i first read it i didn't know that. a very interesting take on a Starscream redemption AU, paired with some fascinating outlier power moments! a little bit wooby about Screamer (maybe a lot wooby?), a lot of whump, a lot of emotion, maybe some hints of StarOP idk if that's become an actual ship since i last checked. ymmv on this one depending on your Starscream opinions but i was hooked for the whole time for sure! i need to catch up, it's technically still updating. also the author has another, shorter, complete Starscream redemption fic which i also enjoyed, check that out too

A Streetcar Named Traitor

G1, oneshot, AO3. Megatron doesn't take Starscream's defection well and Optimus has had enough. very stupid, very funny, makes me cackle as Megsy gets dunked on

Sudden Active Development... I certainly feel SAD at the moment*

TFP, incomplete, Spacebattles. another isekai forum fic, this time somebody gets dropped into the body of Nemesis Prime and has to deal with running around as an Optimus lookalike! i like the misunderstandings and the process of adapting to a strange new body. some stilted dialogue, and it gets a little weird about gender perception but i can gloss over that. ramps up with more canon characters, a sprinkling of OCs, and completely taking canon off the rails within the last few posts! this one has threadmarks for easy navigation

Turning Points*

vaguely G1 AU, incomplete, FFN. Prowl was one of the most brilliant tacticians among the Decepticons, and then they destroyed his home. it's gonna be a long climb into the good graces of the Autobots for this defector. an absolutely fantastic character driven piece with a brilliant premise, i love how Prowl is written. and the politics of defecting and dealing with a security hazard, mmmmm good!

An Uneasy Partnership*

sorta G1/Armada/canon soup?, ongoing series, FFN. Alexis keeps an unruly Starscream in her barn. this can only go well. this series is WILD, it escalates and gets worse and then better and then worse again, you root for Screamer and then you hate him, poor Alexis is on a constant horrid rollercoaster but hey, (spoilers), she gets a cool robot body and also a tyrant king boyfriend out of it??? but man is it a long, manipulative, whumpy road to get there. the powerplays and emotional turmoil in their dynamic just keep going and it's fascinating, although probably not for you if you don't like bad power imbalances. it's the end of the world as we know it and whatever comes on the other end is going to be only as good as you make of it. i think this series may also be sort of (in)famous in the fandom? idk i don't pay attention that well

Untitled

IDW, drabble, tumblr. in an unexpected meetcute, Minimus finds himself rescuing Rung. honestly it's just a quick little concept of a conversation but it has captivated me and i'm obsessed with it

#transformers #fic rec #rec list #macaddam #transformers fanfiction #long post #ive got a list of to-read/to-finish fics too and ill make another one when i work my way thru all of those...#most of them are long multichaps tho so uhhh who knows when

54 notes · View notes

thefirsthogokage · 10 months

Text

Oh fuck. And ONCE YET AGAIN, FUCK RYAN MURPHY

(link to article)

A WGA leadership memo notes the threatened litigation prompted showrunner Warren Leight to step back from captaining duties and also implored members: "Our foe in this fight is not other members, it is the AMPTP. If we turn on each other, the AMPTP wins."

I do remember John Rogers tweet that as a WGA board member, it wouldn't be right to comment on certain things at this time, so he hoped other members would do it. I can't remember the specifics, but I know Google doesn't pick up Twitter anymore, so, 🙃. I should have saved it. But I don't 100% remember the timing of it and it was vague enough it could have applied to a few things.

Anywho, it's perfectly fair - in my opinion - to turn on scabs like Ryan Murphy who feel they're above everything because they know that networks will keep hiring him.

The article has a lot of stuff in it about the lawsuit. But I just want to say, I remember seeing Warren's work on Twitter...

Leight, an outspoken New York-based WGA member, had been dubbed as the East Coast’s “Air Traffic Controller” for his efforts leading the so-called Rapid Response Team that directs striking writers to filming locations. Leight declined to comment for this story.

...he did a HELL of a job. It sucks that this is happening because he's work was definitely needed. Like, I might not like the guy, and he got himself into this position by tweeting what he did even though he was the co-chair of the Strike Rules Compliance Committee, there must have been some rules about this.

So one of the things that pisses me off here is that he should have known better, had to bench himself, and the strike may suffer because he's not doing what he was, and it's on him not keeping his fingers from typing things he knew shouldn't have. Things other people were already saying.

According to the memo, Leight has stepped back from his duties as co-chair of the Strike Rules Compliance Committee and as a captain.

Sources say the WGA’s letter followed a regularly scheduled strategy meeting with WGA East leadership, including Michael Winship, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen and Chris Kyle, and strike captains that turned contentious. “We were talking about themed pickets. Nobody discussed Warren and everyone was like, ‘When is someone going to talk about Ryan Murphy?’” says one East Coast strike captain. “People were pissed. We wanted an explanation and answer about why Warren lost his captain’s hat and what happened. He was our leader.”

🙃🙃🙃 He was doing SUCH AN amazing job. It really, really sucks that he stepped down. And he's partially to blame. I mean, who the fuck would have thought being a guy in his position as a Captain that it would be a good idea to go after giant bastard Ryan Murphy?

Again, this is just frustrating from both angles: Warren Leight pulling a dumb as a Captain, and the loss of Warren Leight as a strike captain.

Multiple sources tell THR that only four scripted TV series remain in production on the East Coast — with three of them produced by Murphy: American Horror Story, American Sports Story and the episodic anthology American Horror Stories (the fourth is Lionsgate/Starz’s Power Book 2: Ghost). In addition to being a member of the WGA West, Murphy is a producer and director and is permitted to continue working provided he is not rendering services performed by writers. Multiple sources say Murphy was spotted twice last week in New York crossing WGA picket lines. Sources close to Murphy say he has not been in New York for the past month.

Those last two statements contradict each other, but I would take anything from Murphy's circle with a huge, huge, grain of salt. Still wish people took pictures. Writers crossing the picket lines need to be named and shamed.

“He is following the letter of the law and going to set as a producer/showrunner/director and says he’s not doing writing — and no guild can convict somebody of conjecture,” says another East Coast captain. “A million of us would love to see it, but there’s no proof that he’s scabbing; he’s doing scripts that were done before strike started.”

Bullshit. No way even "The Great Ryan Murphy" can predict all the problems that would come up beforehand and have everything written out. No fucking way.

The WGA, meanwhile, said in its memo that we will “continue to picket [Murphy’s] shows,” and that the Strike Rules Compliance Committee will investigate all leads concerning potential violations. (If Murphy is found in violation of the strike rules, he can be suspended or expelled from membership, hit with monetary fines or censured. After the 2007-08 writers strike, the WGA brought members alleged to have violated strike rules before a trial committee, as in the case of Jay Leno, who was cleared of wrongdoing).

HE BETTER BE FUCKING EXPELLED!

The internal squabbling comes as news leaked June 20 that Murphy, one of the industry’s most powerful showrunners, has been negotiating with Disney to return to the studio with a rich overall deal after his $300 million Netflix pact expired. In the memo to captains, the WGA officers implored them to stay focused on the fight at hand, noting, “Our foe in this fight is not other members, it is the AMPTP. If we turn on each other, the AMPTP wins.”

How is this not expulsion worthy? HOW?! Your foe is ALSO PEOPLE WILLINGLY PULLING THIS BULLSHIT!

From the letter:

Losing Warren as a strike captain is the last thing any of us wanted, but he understood that his actions on this particular issue exposed the Guild to potential liability, especially as co-chair of the very committee investigating Murphy. His tweet was also in direct contradiction with instructions he had received multiple times from WGAE and WGAW leadership and staff about his use of social media.

LIKE I SAID, WARREN WAS A GODDAMN DUMBASS!

• We will not quit on Ryan Murphy. We continue to picket his shows, and the Strike Rules Compliance Committee continues to investigate all leads. Send. Us. Leads.

This kind of sounds like they're looking for any and all reason to give that son of a bitch Murphy the boot. I hope they find it.

Fuck Ryan Murphy!

No way someone hasn't had to make at least one edit this far into strike with THREE shows in production. No way. Someone has to have proof.

Fuck Ryan Murphy, his ass needs to kicked from the Guild.

#warren leight #ryan murphy #fuck ryan murphy #wga strike #wga strong #not for the first time Warren Leight was a goddamn dumbass

36 notes · View notes

heclosescases · 17 days

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @rngaredead 🫶

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

91 complete, 2 WIP (one of these is yet to be public)

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

797,286

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ted Lasso and The Mentalist

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Pillow Talk — Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon (The Mentalist)

To Make The World Less Noisy — Ted Lasso/Trent Crimm (Ted Lasso)

Please, Remember Me. — Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt (Ted Lasso)

All These Things That I’ve Done — Ted Lasso/Trent Crimm (Ted Lasso)

Squeeze Me Harder — Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt (Ted Lasso)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Usually yes! I love getting comments as it is a more tangible reminder that there are people reading. Plus most of the time they’re nice to read too.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I love writing angst but not too many of my fics have angsty endings. I like happy endings haha. I’m not sure if it has my angstiest ending - especially compared to some of my Jisbon fics - but earlier this year I wrote a Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt one-shot which probably applies (it seems like once again you’ve had to greet me with goodbye).

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of my fics have happy endings even amongst the emotional hurt/comfort. I actually think ending a fic is one of the most difficult parts of the writing process but endings I can remember fondly in particular are ‘The Tea Shop’ (Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon), ‘Please, Remember Me.’ (Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt) and the conclusion to my ‘i know it’s just a number but you’re the eighth wonder’ series (Ted Lasso/Trent Crimm).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really… until the series mentioned above. I had a couple of haters on that because I wrote Trent as trans.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Some of my fics include smut but I don’t find it easy to write so usually I either don’t include it or I keep it very vague. However, I have realised that two of my top five fics by kudos are 'E'.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Nope. I personally don’t understand the love of crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Back in my Wattpad days I had a fic stolen and translated to German without my permission. Including the cover art.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

See above.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I have had some cool people beta my fics before.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I know I mainly write tedtrent now but I think jisbon will always be my ship.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My only public WIP is ‘Pillow Talk’ (Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon) but it’s a collection of one-shots so there really is no “finishing it”.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I’ve got better at characterisations. It is one my favourite compliments if I ever get it because I think it is so important to get that right, for the reader’s enjoyment. I’ve also improved at setting the scene as opposed to just jumping in with the story. Dialogue is definitely easier for me to write than this though.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I am my own worst enemy. I will be writing and think ‘yeah this is pretty good’ but when it comes to proofing it I suddenly become full of self-doubt. I know I am not the best writer in the world, but it is a good outlet for me, so when I start to feel like my work is terrible, that hits me hard. It is why I rely so much on comments and knowing if people enjoyed reading or not. Just for some more motivation.

If there are too many characters, some tend to get lost or forgotten. I have especially found this when writing Ted Lasso fics because there are sooooo many characters in that show who I love but it just isn’t possible to regularly include them all in fics.

When I am writing, I write different sections of a chapter/one-shot and then try desperately to tie them together which doesn’t always flow well. I also then get annoyed at myself for leaving really unhelpful notes as reminders.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I have done this for a few lines in fics but I couldn’t do it confidently regularly. Relying on translations apps is a risk due to accuracy. I’ve sometimes written dialogue in Spanish for my The Mentalist fics, but never large bulks of text.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sherlock - back in my Wattpad days.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Probably ‘All These Things That I’ve Done’ but the energy on Twitter when I was writing/updated ‘Undercover With You’ and ‘A Blue-Eyed Surprise To Come Home To’ (both Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon) was unmatched.

(No user tags because I am not good at Tumblr - but thank you @rngaredead for thinking of me!!)

#fic game #fic writer game #fanfic #ted lasso #the mentalist #tedtrent #jisbon #royjamie

9 notes · View notes

goodomensjail · 9 months

Text

I don’t think the book of life is actually a thing we need to worry about…

Some of you may know before the series premiered and I saw the early screening, I thought the book of life would be a really big deal

However, now watching the series start to finish twice the only person who actually makes the book of life threat is Michael and they are a bit flustered when they talk about it with Beelzebub

Beelzebub takes it at face value who then relays it like a game of telephone to Crowley, who writes it off as not a thing (said it to scare the cherubs). If we are to assume that Crowley once had higher status than Michael, which most of the season is alluding to him being the previous supreme archangel (now whether that’s Rapheal, Lucifer, or if “Gabriel” is just a title not a name and Angel Crowley was “Gabriel”) I think we should take Crowleys initial response with more face value.

Beezlebub remember at this point is trying to bribe Crowley into finding Gabriel with a title as Duke of hell, which we now know, was for selfish and loving reasons. Same for the book of life, it’s a threat to get Crowley moving to find Gabriel. An empty one.

Shax we realize is low level and fairly incompetent and only relaying what she heard from Beelzebub. Again, not reliable.

The next time we hear about it, it’s again Michael being bratty about their status, and metatron comes in and shoots them down that they don’t actually have that authority

So what proof do we have at the book of life is at all important to the plot moving forward, really? Michael appears to be an unreliable narrator who is making up threats to seal their status in the power vacuum with Gabriel gone.

We have a Crowley who seems to know a heck of a lot about how heaven runs thinking at first it’s “not a thing”, and only taking it seriously because of his love and fear for Aziraphale

And then we have metatron who doesn’t straight up say that isn’t real, so okay.

Anyway, it could still very much be ✨a thing ✨ and metatron doesn’t say it doesn’t exist, but upon a second watch, I don’t think it was anything more than an empty threat and another red herring, and I personally am not subscribing to theories floating around that it’s going to be some big revelatory rewrite of season two.

And that doesn’t mean it was pointless to the story, writing about the book of life, did exactly what it was supposed to do. It got Crowley back helping Aziraphale even against his better judgment, and his own wants, in a mirror of what the final fight was going to be it doesn’t matter that it didn’t come back around or it wasn’t a gun that fired. It served its purpose narratively as a threat, even if an empty one.

Anyway, thanks for joining me on my TED talks, where I vaguely allude to posts but don’t actually want to comment on them because I do want everyone to have fun….

#good omens #good omens spoilers #gos2spoilers #gos2 spoilers #go2 spoilers #good omens meta #good omens speculation

24 notes · View notes

edenwolfie · 8 months

Note

For the writer ask - 13, 17, 27, 28, 36!

Hallo and thank you for the ask! I'll stick to my fanfics for answering these :)

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy? I always always struggle with sex scenes, they tend to not take too long, but are then followed by the most god awful amount of editing to try and make it at least vaguely sexy. Local aroace tries their best lol. Otherwise I don't think I struggle quite as much as that with much else?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why? I think it was probably Madam Yu from my MDZS fic series Just Say Yes. Every scene she was in was a trial for me to get my head around because the series was very much a 'fix-it everything you can' kinda deal, but I also didn't want to drastically change anyone's character, so she was a difficult line to walk. Mostly I avoided this by keeping her out of scenes when I could lol. I remember one or two people wanting a chapter from her POV and just, I would have died of frustration and the fic would have never been finished lol.

27. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why? I have to be honest, writing Xie Lian for Compass has probably been my fave. I feel like I just get him (whether this is true or non lol) and can just go when writing him.

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you Know? So much random shit; working in a medical setting, working in a school setting, working in a retail/food service setting, illustration (traditional & digital), animation (2D & 3D), sports (springboard diving, soccer, skiing), music (esp. cello, bass guitar, singing, with group orchestra, choir, bands etc), D&D and board games, and cooking/baking. Probably some other stuff I'm forgetting, but oh well! I think only the music, art, and retail/food service topics have wormed their way into my writing thus far, I'm not much for a modern setting, so a lot of that doesn't tend to apply lol.

[from weird questions for writers ask meme]

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text. Well, let's go with Compass cause it's still in my brain, and the extras are still WIPs. So here's some random brain faff (under the cut):

- Hua Cheng scared the shit out of Xu Hao when he came back to town and cornered him like 'who the fuck is the new guy? name? age? occupation? appearance? birthday? tax file number? etc' and Xu Hao is just like, that's just Wujin he's just our lil guy now. i don't know shit. please blink. - Hua Cheng basically spent the month he was gone out of Ghost City after Zhongyuan having the worlds longest panic attack and sculpting the most frantic bunch of statues he could to prove to himself he still remembered how Xie Lian looked. This also stopped him destroying anything because he was Not Allowed to break them. Is why he got himself out of the city, because otherwise a few blocks were gonna go bye bye. - Dianshui remembers in very awful detail how she died but she will not ever fucking share that with anyone. - I already shared this with a commenter but re: the wine Xie Lian gives to Hua Cheng in Ch 4 (the one where he had worked for the winemaker for a while), there's so many bottles in the cellar because the winemaker is now a ghost now and still making the wine so Hua Cheng likes to buy them as the winemaker spoke kindly of Xie Lian. - The section where Xie Lian makes the drinks for Chunchun's ex was called "Evil Ratatouille" in my WIP doc for absolutely no good reason.

#ask meme #ask #tarantasina #edenwolfie writes

8 notes · View notes

bigjimbopickens · 1 year

Note

For me personally, I won't be watching Kevin's stuff for a while to come. It is less about him though and more about the community he's brought to him, a community that now thinks he is one of them. A community that will likely stick around now as well. I don't remember reading anything in his apology regarding the vitriol he allowed to spread (though turning the comments off was the right thing to do), and I'm still soured by the lack of response to you regarding the p*** claims.

In any case I'm heavily disappointed. I love Kevin. He's the only YouTuber I have any merch from. And while I saw this coming I'm anguished. It sucks.

- also an autistic trans man

When I said I wouldn’t talk about this anymore I lied I wanna respond to this. I am contributing more to the convo with this though.

I feel the same way as I’m sure many others do too. And I’m glad you brought up the previous bs that happened just 2 or so months prior to all this because I was going to but felt like it wasn’t necessary as the post was already long enough.

For those unaware, in November 2022 Kevin posted a sims 4 video where he recreated the original sims 4 cult, which the fandom mimicked in a way. He changed the rules in that one to ban werewolves, which was interpreted as “ban furries.”

I made a joke response to it using the fursuit I made of werewolf Jim Pickens and people took it wayyyy too seriously. I was harassed quite a bit for that because people take what Kevin says too seriously. And of course I was called a p*do over it too. That situation scared off a-lot of people from the community but my naive self thought that was as bad as it gets and wanted to fix it. I believed it was my fault. So I organized a raid to bring the positivity back and it worked. Until Kevin fucked it up again 2 months later. I’m not organizing another. I’m not fixing his community again, he broke it and I had no involvement this time.

I sorta let that one slide when really I shouldn’t have because it was just one user who was really causing an issue for me. And it also wasn’t Kevin’s fault that guy had issues. I heard that Kevin did vaguely mention it on stream but I didn’t catch it because I was flying that day. Coincidentally he did post his “I almost quit in 2022” video on the day of the raid, which I came across again and said half-jokingly “You should’ve.”

There is another situation similar that happened to me back in April 2021 that is somewhat related as well. It was during the first NoPixel stream when I did fanart of Grognak and people started getting mad over their pronouns in my replies. So out of spite me and another artist drew them with the non binary pride flag and people became horribly transphobic towards us. Other artists joined us and the mods banned whoever was being transphobic in the replies. So transphobia has always been an issue in the community unfortunately, I just didn’t realize it was that fucking bad.

I joined the community shortly after the pandemic started when the Tomodachi Life series had started and I wish we could go back to those days. It was so much fun. Kevin never does videos anymore about his characters and when he does they’re more challenge-based rather than lore/character focused. That’s a big reason why his sims series fell off so hard. Jim went from being this evil idiot yet genius cult leader to asexually reproducing 100 babies. With the last sims 4 video being one that started a fight in his community I have no idea how he’s going to continue it. I don’t even know if he’s aware of what happened to me. I know he saw the fursuit, he liked the tweet I made about it.

Oh man another long post. Damn I ramble a lot. But I think it needs to be said regardless. I have got to be the user of the community who got fucked over the most amount of times simply for existing haha. I am the embodiment of what the community seems to hate. Thankfully two other communities have already welcomed me so I don’t have to rely on this one as much anymore. I’m still thankful for all the good it’s done for me but I’ve never been in a fandom more toxic than the Call Me Kevin community.

I hope you’re also doing well, anonymous stranger.

#callmekevin #call me kevin

24 notes · View notes

ravenwolfie97 · 3 months

Text

okay i have to talk about this because it's been really bothering me lately and i need to say something before i explode

so lately i've been noticing on many videos, shortform or otherwise, that they include subtitles! awesome! super helpful and cool

but idk if it's always been a problem and i'm only noticing it now, or if it's gotten particularly bad lately, but... recently a lot of those subtitles are really really bad

slight tangential anecdote: i used to do some freelance captioning work in between real job hunting, and it was a good experience. i was already interested in doing it, obviously, but i was coached on proper captioning etiquette and guidelines to make it look as nice and readable as possible while also transcribing the audio as best as i could before my superiors would touch it up. so i do know a thing or two about proper subtitling, but even if you didn't you would Know that there are some serious problems right now

i'll give a few non-specific examples (bc i'm too lazy to hunt them down to show you). there is a pretty popular (i think) youtube shorts personality who mostly does reaction-based videos, like i think it's actually mostly tiktok stitches reuploaded to yt shorts. but anyway this person, along with most other tiktok people who have subtitles for their lil internet rambles, are probably only basing off of their voice, like there's some kind of auto-caption that gets most of the words right, save for a couple small ones. i can understand that especially for the reaction/vlog crowd who are just trying to pump out videos, but like. i also follow john and hank green. they also reupload their tiktok stitches to yt shorts and have subtitles. and guess what? they're flawless. immaculate. you Can change them. or maybe they just talk better idk my point still stands that there is issue here stemming from having the computer do it with minimal to no touch-up. which leads me to my next example

one of the first nails in the coffin recently was this one pokemon youtube shorts guy i kept getting where he'd look into old game saves. all of the videos are subtitled, but similar to the tiktoks, it appears to be transcribing the voice on its own. what's worse and the most important here is that - remember - this is a series of pokemon videos. saying a pokemon name and expecting an AI to understand what that is out the gate is insane. and it doesn't. any time a pokemon's name is said, it just spews out words that are vaguely similar-sounding standard english words. and it's never the same each time too, which is fun. this is where taking the time to edit or even give a smidge of a damn to the craft of your video really would mean a lot, because for as many as i've seen it turns me even more off every time i see those shitty subtitles. but unfortunately that's not the worst i've seen in the last few days

the one that hurt me so much i physically could not stand it, to the point that i left a Comment on how bad it was, was an edit of a streamer's twitch VOD. normally, this streamer uploads snippets of their streams to yt shorts and has really good and well-edited captions there! i usually have nothing to complain about from this guy. but this one particular video... i don't know if it's because it's an older VOD and someone's just been holding on to it for months, or if it was a huge rush job, or What. but this video had literally the worst captions i had ever seen. they were just slapped down in chunks, not even lining up with the people who were talking, a negligible amount of punctuation, literally the barest minimum of effort. but that's not all! let's not forget that this is an edited clipshow, and there are Effects and Transitions for not only the video itself but the text as well! so SOME amount of effort was put into this because it got actually edited into a decent-sized video instead of just being a small clip. it's literally makes me sick i am so unhappy about it

main point, TL;DR, moral of the story: for the love of all that is holy, please remember that captioning is literally an accessibility feature. some people cannot hear or are unable to listen to videos sometimes, and i can't imagine what a hearing-impaired person who relies on subtitles to engage with videos would think watching either of my last two examples. what makes it worse, too, is that i can't even tell these people to hire someone to do it for them, because oftentimes they DO have people to do that work for them. and they still fuck it up. and then they continue on, to churn out more content. ugh just take a moment to remember that captions are not just for engagement. they're a tool, and some people can use only those as their guide through your video. don't make it impossible to parse. the purpose of them is to be read and understood. and you can't do that if the sentences are in overlapping chunks or if your words are too non-standard to be translated by a computer

#they at least all do a better job at captioning than youtube's built-in auto feature #it's okay in a pinch but it's really. really not good #but man do y'all remember when they Came Out with closed captioning and how incredibly and genuinely awful it was?#as well as unintentionally hilarious?#i must be one of the only people as obsessed with rhett and link's multi-layered cc translation series of videos today as from eons ago #a many charisma wrist to you and to all a good night

4 notes · View notes

drawnaghht · 1 year

Text

re-listening to "Samurai Rabbit with Stan Sakai & The Usagi Chronicles Creative Team"

This week I have been re-listening to one of the longer interviews with Stan Sakai, Khang Le and Candie and Doug Langdale and I found a youtube version of it with official subtitles!! I can finally understand what some of the parts actually were about compared to before x3

Should I post a link to this? or links to others? reblog or comment! you can probably find it yourself if you're curious.

Or would anyone be interested in like, a summary of those interviews?

I've posted links to that and other interviews before, but this is one of the most extensive ones imo, so I thought it would be nice to post the link that here separately.

One thing I see the collective fandom voice out is how they don't like that it's about a young rabbit and not a direct adaptation (it wasn't up to the crew, they were brought on after the decision) and this interview actually gives answer to that and many other questions I've seen fans talk about publicly both on here and on twitter. (Like why there aren't phones or screens for example.) There's a nice intro about this aspect as well, how two fans of the og comic feel about this show when about to interview the author himself and how the main creative leads are also big nerds about the Usagi Yojimbo comicbook series. Stan Sakai and Khang Le mainly talk about the art and adaptation, as well as story of the show, while Candie and Doug talk about the creative writing parts of the show. They even talk about the music a bit! Reccomended listening if you like the show! This was also recorded before the final 10 episodes aired so it's fun hearing them tease the 2nd season again.

What's nice is that the interviewers themselves (the Comicbook Couples Counseling podcast), are fans of Usagi Yojimbo as well so they are very well-versed in the comic series, so the questions they ask are also very relevant... but also respectful to both the creators and the comic and cartoon! So it's a nice interview to listen to, from a very creative and mature perspective imo.

Seeing fans from different sides of both the TMNT and Usagi fandoms voice different opinions based on assumptions of the show has been a bit frustrating to see (maybe much less so if I only look at fanart, but it's been both "older" and younger fans), so this has been refreshing to re-listen to because it really only looks at the show from creative and collaborative viewpoints vs what people seem to assume that Netflix shows are all about - money and profit and keeping up only some sort of live-wire.

I personally really think the show probably could have had a bigger "impact" with the story if it took some bigger risks, but at the same time, they did their best with what they were given in terms of budget, which I'm remembering again after listening to the creative ways they had to avoid some shots or how some storylines got cut. It's a very creative and easy-going show to me, even if it's not "the best" in terms of what people have come to expect from cartoon shows for kids now.

It's also really interesting to listen to the interview again with subtitles and getting some of the context better (like how the makkine and spaceships, there was a certain inspiration they we're looking at outside of comics - "Robot Carnival" - an animated film I was only vaguely aware of before).

I also found the artist who did the layouts and special poses for the 2D sequences, which was so cool to find! I'm so glad that the Samurai Rabbit crew and artists have been proud to post their work on the series so far as I found a few artists' portfolios/galleries and blogs last month as well. Not gonna repost those (that's obviously just rude without permission and no one wants to get in trouble for that) but it would be cool to share links to those too if people were interested x3

anyway, it's amazing this show exists at all, whatever anyone else thinks.

#samurai rabbit #Comic Book Couples Counseling Podcast #yuichi usagi #stan sakai #samurai rabbit usagi chronicles #usagi chronicles #samurai rabbit netflix #aghht srtuc posts #aghht fantalk #you can blacklist either of those tags if you don't like my long posts :'D #long post #interview #analysis #srtuc interview

17 notes · View notes

astral-cowboy · 2 years

Text

Abeds Adventure in Monitization #1

A series of oneshots with abed being brad, the "evil" head of monetization at mythic quest.

Next / previous

"You're taking us camping? The entire team. All of us. Camping" Poppy was standing in her place, gesturing vaguely towards Ian in what could only be described as severe disdain and a type of anger you only see on movie screens. If brad wasn't the man he was today he probably would have mentioned it, maybe even made a reference or two.

"Uhh yeah! It's bonding!" Ian retorted, his voice holding extreme offence. One would think someone made an out of place comment or maybe pushed him to anger to get raw emotions for a film about diagnosed neurodivergancy. Brad didn't know where he had heard the tone of voice before but he remembered a laptop and an angry anarchist fighting with his dad.

"It's stupid! We work in tech, not survival"

"I agree with poppy, I dont go camping" Brad found it in himself to agree with poppy, it was uncharacteristic and probably showed his character development. He conveniently left out his past relationship with the outdoors and a hot air balloon.

"Thank you Brad!" And poppy thanked him, something that never happened.

"I think it'll be fun"

"Of course you think that David."

"You know what, give me something in return and I'll go" Bargaining, Brad's favourite stage of grief and each time he used it he got more powerful. Like a not so wise man said 'either truth is relative or I'm god'. He didn't know what the quote had to do with the situation but it felt accurate to his characterization so he liked it alot.

"Brad, don't ruin our moment of agreement"

"I'll give you a pay rise" David was always the one trying to bring the group together. He was a kind person who Brad was reluctant to admit was his friend. Not his best friend (that was reserved for someone else) but he was definitely up there and he was rising quickly. Brad wouldn't admit any of that even with a paintball gun to his head and a cash reward on the line.

"Boring, I make the money you pay us with anyway. I want your shirt"

"My... shirt"

"Your shirt, I've had my eye on it the minute I walked in this morning"

"OK, I'll give you the shirt tomorrow"

"I want to wear it out of here"

Brad wasn't sure where that ultimatum had come from, everyone else was shocked by it too. It seemed like it was ingrained in him, like an urge to document his life or make a Terrible pop culture reference that would get eye rolls in return.

Abed was getting comfortable here.

#community #mythic quest #abed nadir #brad bakshi #annie edison #troy barnes #pierce hawthorne #jeff winger #shirley bennett #britta perry #david brittlesbee #poppy Li #ian grimm

13 notes · View notes

apolloadama · 1 year

Text

i have a very dear friend who is 72 who i read books with and we meet once a week to zoom. she's going through a tough time and we were talking about disney movies -- i am a big disney movie nerd, even going back to the ones released when she was a child -- but she hasn't seen more than two or three when they were in theaters in the '50s and '60s. so we decided to do a series of double features, the pairs picked by me.

tonight we started with snow white and the seven dwarfs (1937) and the little mermaid (1989).

i felt like the pairing of the movie that started it all with the movie that kicked off the disney renaissance was appropriate. there's also a fairly stark contrast to the fairly passive snow white, waiting for the prince to come save her (and industriously working hard at domestic labor so as to be able to have a roof over her head--remember this was made in the 1930s!) with ariel, who saves the prince, makes her own choices in the movie (even if they are bad ones), and ultimately works with the prince to save the ocean (world?) from bigger stakes than just her own life and romance--stopping the evil sea witch/queen ursula, who was clearly a menace to all merkind.

my friend had vague memories of snow white when it was apparently rereleased in a local theater in the 1950s, but she had never seen the little mermaid. she didn't grow up with fairy tales so she didn't even know the original story. i asked her what she thought would happen as the movie was unfolding. she immediately at the beginning thought ariel would come around to realizing "there's no place like home" and meet some nice young merman. even at the middle of the movie she thought this is what would happen--that ariel would end up in the ocean. only after the big scene at the end when triton is watching ariel watch eric did she go--oh, he's going to let her go! and then said "i realize why so many kids like this movie."

ariel's story, while still a disney princess romance, is about not feeling like you fit in, finding a world where you thrive and are happy, struggling to keep it, and then making peace with your parent(s) as he accepts you've grown and must lead your own life.

the other things i noticed while watching this double feature:

the animation is remarkably similar looking even though 50 years have passed -- my friend commented on this

it was at first unsettling getting used to the animals talking in the little mermaid after having watched snow white, even though i grew up with TLM as my fav and must have watched it hundreds of times

another parallel between the movies is these are the two where the villain turns herself into another person to deceive our heroes -- i don't think that happens in the other main disney movies (maleficent turning into a dragon is not for deceit)

very unfortunately my friend dozed off during poor unfortunate souls. i explained what he had happened to her but i needn't have, sebastian and flounder explain it to scuttle shortly after--i hadn't noticed before that the movie does that. good for kids who couldn't quite follow the lyrics of the song and need the rules spelled out clearly for them.

my friend got such a kick out of the lyrics of les poissons, rightly so

our next double feature takes us into the animal kingdom -- the jungle book (1967) followed by the lion king (1994)

#thoughts about snow white and the little mermaid #tp #disney blogging

1 note · View note

tropes-and-tales-archives · 2 years

Text

Bryan Kneef: Smart Mouth

Word Count: 3284

TW: Smut (remembered oral, f!receiving; dirty talk; video chat sex; masturbation). 18+ only.

AN: Part two of a three part series: Part One, Part Three

That night stayed with Bryan a long time. You melted into the landscape of Chicago, until Bryan found mutual friends who knew you too. The two of you had been moving it the same set, circling each other all these years. Who knew?

“She’s back in France,” a mutual friend told him when he asked, and Bryan was disappointed by your disappearing act. “Why do you ask?”

Bryan muttered a vague bit about having something of yours, leaving out the obvious fact that he had your panties from that dinner party. But the mutual friend told Bryan that he’d email him your contact information, in case he wanted to reach out.

Bryan did not, in fact, want to reach out. Not for a while, anyway.

*****

When your plane touched down in Paris, you breathed a sigh of relief. You loved visiting the States – your motherland, as it were – but you considered Strasbourg your home now. It hadn’t been planned, of course. You had taken a summer internship overseas in law school, a coveted position that you had hustled for. You just found that you liked your family better when there was an ocean between you, and you found a home in the Alsace region, with its charming blend of French and German cultures.

Besides, you lived in a charming apartment that overlooked the Pont du Faisan. If you squinted, it looked like Venice. The best of Europe, all in one place.

You didn’t figure that you’d ever go back to the States permanently. Your parents finally gave up on trying to marry you off to some son of some Chicago scion, and your friends had mostly drifted into the boring lives of hands-off child-rearing (that’s what nannies are for, darling) and competitive charity event planning. You were the only one of your set to strive for a career, win it, and keep grinding at it, year after year.

The latest trip home only convinced you that you were right. Everyone was bored. Boring. If you had to listen to your former friends fight over pre-school wait lists for pretentious private schools any more, you would have screamed.

There was one fun little diversion – that boring dinner party of Karen’s with the over-salted monkfish and under-seasoned confit. The universe, knowing you’d be bored, threw you a bone. Bryan fucking Kneef.

You knew he wouldn’t recognize you. The sole time you’d met him, you were still a pre-law student, barely old enough to scratch a lottery ticket let alone sit with one of Chicago’s preeminent lawyers. But you hadn’t skipped two grades for nothing, and on top of that, you were persistent. You wanted the best to mentor you.

What a disappointment he turned out to be.

Not a complete disappointment though. His rude, sexist little comment only added fuel to your fire, and you thought of him from time to time as you rose steadily in your career. You heard his name too sometimes, knew he was a friend of friends. Heard stories about his latest conquests – the trust-fund baby, the nearly-divorced blueblood, the socialite with the rabid social media following.

Then you ran into him, and you got the sweet satisfaction of rubbing his face in your success. And, in the library with the Baziotes knock-off, you had quite literally rubbed his face in more than your success. You’d heard all about his tendencies as a hunter, and you were usually down for some shenanigans…and seeing the stunned look on his face as you left him, his lust unrelieved, his dick out…it was perfection.

-----

Winter loosened its grip on the city, and the grey skies gradually bled into the brilliant blue of spring. You were busy with work, toiling with other lawyers to untangle decrees from World War II, a struggle made more difficult by the language barriers and sometimes-idiomatic speech of some documents. It was hard work. You loved every bit of it.

You came home every night to a glass of wine, and you scrolled idly through your email. Nothing much other than the odd missive from your mom about your sisters. A few offers from stores.

Your scrolling finger stopped, then reversed. Backed up. An email – from a bkneef.

You snorted to see the subject line. It said, mentoring appointment overdue.

What an asshole. The body of the email was just one line: no apology, no formalities. It just said, I still have your panties.

So that’s where they were. You knew you had become separated from them during the tryst in the library, but you assumed they had been left behind, tucked between the first edition of “Great Expectations” and the signed copy of Eliot’s “The Dry Salvages.” It was unfortunate. Those panties were part of a set, a charmingly insubstantial number you’d picked up in a trip to Paris.

Well, you loved a good drawn-out flirt, but he was right to the point, so you’d be too. Keep them, you typed back, as something to remember me by.

*****

You had been painstakingly earnest as an undergrad, and you were clearly sharp enough to litigate for human rights in Europe.

But, Bryan was finding, more than anything – you were a smart ass. You swayed between gently sarcastic and caustically biting, able to load a wallop of mockery into a single line of an email. Bryan rarely had a worthy partner to spar with. Most people – most women – backed down from his asshole behavior. You rose up to it.

You answered his email, and he was unable to resist typing back. One line at a time, back and forth across the Atlantic, until you were swapping invectives via text. It was always the same: he was your mentor and had something to teach you. You needed no mentor, but maybe you could teach him something. Back and forth.

He kept your panties, neatly folded and tucked into his nightstand drawer, enough to cause one of his on-again, off-again girlfriends to find them, slap him, and storm out. Not that he cared. He remembered with a pang of unrelieved lust how your hand had twisted in his hair, steered his face against your cunt. How you had taken what you wanted from him without any regard for his pleasure.

That sole encounter, completely unsatisfying to him, grew outsized in his mind. He wanted more.

When are you coming back to the states? He texted you one night, late. You must have been asleep because you didn’t reply until later, when he was asleep.

August, you replied. My sister is getting married.

Bryan sighed in irritation. August was months away.

You can give me back my underwear then, you continued. They’re part of a set.

That made his cock twitch in definite interest, and Bryan imagined what the missing piece looked like on those fantastic tits of yours.

-----

Bryan wasn’t sure what caused him to start calling you via Skype. Loneliness, maybe, but not the sad-sitting-by-the-window-on-a-rainy-evening type. More like, he was bored with Chicago. Bored with the women there. Bored with their same tired lines, their same mechanical routines in bed. He wanted someone interesting, someone to keep him on his toes. Someone to pull his hair and force his face into their cunt until they came against his tongue.

If you had pressed the issue, he would have lied and said it was a misdial, that your contact information was right next to the person he was really trying to call. But you didn’t seem that surprised when you answered, so he just…talked to you. You looked exactly the same on the screen of his laptop, and as you chatted, he scanned the background behind you to see what your life overseas was like.

The first few times, it was just small talk, boring shit about mutual friends you had. Who was getting a divorce. Who was cheating and should get a divorce. Who was being obnoxious and trying to fundraise for your alma mater. You talked about your different cases, and despite being a top litigator, Bryan couldn’t fathom deciphering legal paperwork from the 1940’s written in Polish.

Then it became a habit, him calling you at night. It was late night for you, early evening for him, and sometimes you didn’t pick up. When that happened, Bryan felt a surge of jealousy at whatever slick French guy you were probably fucking. You were too secure in your desires. You weren’t going to sit home and pine for some guy, especially not him.

He called you now. It was a Saturday night, early Saturday morning for you. Bryan had just gotten home from a mostly-unsatisfying date with a futures trader. Dinner had been boring talk about soybean futures (her specialty), and the short romp at her apartment had been equally boring. He could barely stay hard long enough to come.

“Mr. Kneef,” you said when you answered and filled his screen with your slanted grin. “To what do I owe this pleasure on a Saturday night in the heart of America?”

“I was bored,” he replied. He settled against the headboard of his bed and adjusted his laptop across his thighs.

“Nice. I’m glad I can be of service when you’re bored.”

“I had a date tonight,” he offered, and he noted how you grinned at that. He had tried, via text and then on these Skype calls, to make you jealous, but he had failed utterly. Instead, it had turned into more playful banter, you playing up fake-possessiveness while he oversold his own sexual prowess.

“Tell me all about it, mon loulou,” you said, using the nickname you had picked for him that you claimed was untranslatable to English. “No, wait. Let me get a glass of wine and then tell me everything.”

Bryan watched as you moved your own laptop, then disappeared from the screen for a moment. From what he could tell, you were in bed too. He could just make out the wrought iron headboard and a sliver of pillow before you reappeared in the screen with your wine.

“Okay, now tell me everything. Spare no details. Make me burn with envy at the lucky woman to receive the attentions of Bryan Kneef tonight.”

“She’s a futures trader on the Merc.”

“Oooh, nice. Lean hogs or lumber?”

Bryan snorted. “Soybeans, actually.”

You cooed over the edge of your wine glass as you took a sip. “Sexy. So is Miss Soybean going to be graced with a second date, or is it back to the proverbial drawing board for Mr. Kneef?”

“No second date,” he told you, then changed the subject. “It’s July, you know. You’ll be here soon.”

You fixed him with a gaze through your computer screen. “Who said I even want to see you when I’m in the states?”

Bryan reached into his nightstand and pulled out your panties. He held them up to his camera. “I still need to give you these.”

You laughed – a real laugh, not like the practiced little twitterings that women in his circles gave. “They are part of a spectacular set,” you admitted. “I still wear the bra all the time.”

Your casual admittance, not even attempting to turn him on – it was like a spark of electricity to his groin. He shifted in his bed, and he couldn’t stop the words from slipping out of his mouth in a growl half an octave lower.

“Show me.”

You gifted him with that small smile, but then you shrugged as if to say, ‘why not?’

And then you disappeared from screen for a long, long moment – enough for Bryan’s cock to stand to near attention at the unexpected turn his stupid little Skype call had taken.

When you appeared on screen, you had a silky looking robe on, and you looked at him levelly through your camera. When he repeated himself – show me – you ordered him to take off his shirt first.

Bryan shifted his laptop and pulled his t-shirt over his head, noted the pleased little sound you made when he did. When he moved the laptop back to balance on his knees, he saw that you had shed your robe as well. Even through the slightly grainy quality of the computer, he could make out the matching piece of lingerie to the panties in his fist: the bra was sheer black lace, and he could see your dusky nipples through it. Your tits were, in fact, even better than he had imagined – and he had imagined them a lot.

“Were you wearing that at the dinner party?” he asked, his voice husky with want. He had touched you that night, over the bra you had been wearing, but he hadn’t seen anything. Unfortunate.

You nodded. “I was.”

He shook his head a little. “I should have gotten you out of that dress.”

“I wouldn’t have let you,” you replied with a laugh.

“You wanted revenge. You had an agenda.”

You finished off your glass of wine, and Bryan was entranced by the way your tits moved as you reached across to put your empty class down off-screen. “I didn’t have an agenda,” you protested. “I just wanted to see that painting – it’s a fake, by the way – and you were just sort of…there.”

“Bullshit.”

You tilted your head and regarded him on your screen. “How would you have preferred that interlude in the library to go, Mr. Kneef? Take off my dress, and then...”

Your voice had lost its no-nonsense tone and had taken on a throaty sort of quality. Sexy. Bryan had never done anything like this before, but you were in front of him on his computer, your luscious tits on near-display in the brat…

“Use your words, counselor,” you purred, breaking into his reverie. “Mentor me on exactly what you want to do to me.”

“I’d fuck you senseless,” he growled.

You shook your head in mock-disappointment. “Now, now. Where’s the foreplay? Where’s the build-up? The anticipation? You aren’t teaching me anything here, Mr. Kneef. I’m surprised I managed to get an orgasm out of you in the library at all.”

“I don’t – “

“Is this how you treat your women, Bryan? Leave them hanging? Is Miss Soybean Futures going to lose your number because you didn’t bother to finesse her before you fucked her?” You cut him off, and Bryan only watched as you shifted on your bed, jostled the computer until you were positioned a certain way. It was clear what you were doing, even if he couldn’t see it, and his erection throbbed against his sweatpants.

“If I were you, I’d start with the dress, as you said,” you offered. “That black cocktail dress I was wearing? It has a zipper. You could turn me around, kiss down the side of my neck as you slowly slid the zipper down - ”

“I’d push it off your shoulders,” Bryan broke in. “Push it down to your waist so that I can touch those tits.”

“And I’d reach back with a hand to stroke you. Because you’re already hard, aren’t you?”

Bryan reached down, pushed the waistband of his sweatpants down until his cock sprang free. “I am. I was half-hard the minute we stepped into that library together.”

“So sure of yourself,” you murmured.

“Women love an asshole lawyer.”

Bryan was a phone sex – or computer sex, in this case – novice, and he lost the thread of reliving the library interlude as he watched your face on his screen, the heavy way your eyes stared out at him.

“Are you touching yourself now?” he demanded. He was palming his own cock, but just lightly.

“I am. Are you?”

He nodded.

“Describe it,” you said, so he did. Or tried to, anyway, but Bryan wasn’t a connoisseur of jacking off, and you cut him off halfway through his lame attempt of finding new adjectives for the word “gripping.”

“If I were there,” you told him, “I’d tease you. I would have you in a light grip, tracing every single vein of you with my fingertip. I’d squeeze you lightly, skate my fingers across your balls. Torture you until you beg for more.”

“Please,” he choked out, mirroring his hand to what you were narrating.

“But it’s not your words that would move me, Bryan,” you told him. “I’d wait until that perfectly formed cock of yours is weeping for more. And then I’d lower my head – “

“Yes,” he hissed.

“ – and lap at the precum leaking out of you. But just that, because you don’t deserve more of my mouth.”

“I deserve it. Give it to me.”

You smiled at him through the screen. “You don’t deserve it, you egotistical asshole, but I’d be merciful. I’d lick every inch of you before I finally put my mouth on you.”

Bryan heaved a shaky sigh as he gripped his cock harder, stroked it a bit faster. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it, your sarcastic little mouth on his cock. But when he closed his eyes, he missed seeing your face on the screen, the way your lips parted as you purred those filthy words at him.

“You love the way it feels, my mouth. Because you’ve got a magnificent cock – remember that I saw it – and no one can really ever fit it all in. But I can. You can feel the tip of you hitting the back of my throat, my nose pressed against your groin as I swallow you down. You’re practically in my throat, you can feel the way I grip you when I swallow.”

“Fuck, I – “

“But then, suddenly, my mouth is gone. I pull away from you.”

Bryan groaned, shut his eyes again. “No, keep going – “ He could feel his orgasm approaching as he fisted himself, could feel the way his lower belly was tightening at your words.

“Then you feel it. The way I climb on top of you, the way I lower my aching cunt onto you. I don’t stop until you are buried in me. How does it feel, Bryan?”

“It feels good,” he muttered. “So fucking good. How does it feel to you?”

“Amazing,” you replied, and Bryan cracked open and eye to watch you. You were clearly touching yourself too, and your breathing had picked up. “I feel so full with you inside me.”

“And then…” he said, leading you on, and you picked up the thread.

“And then I start riding you, fucking you, slamming myself down onto that magnificent cock of yours.”

“And I plant my feet to fuck up into you,” he growled, “because you can’t get enough of me.”

“Just like that,” you sighed, and Bryan wasn’t sure if you meant his words or you touching yourself, but he didn’t care because his orgasm was imminent now, and judging by the heavy way you were breathing, yours was too.

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he growled, taking charge in the very end, so drunk on desire that he was practically slurring his words. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum until it runs out of your pussy, and then I’m going to push it back in with my fingers. You’re mine now. Everyone will know it.”

And that, for him, was that: even the fantasy of painting your cunt with his release was enough to make him see stars behind his eyelids, and he came in his own fist now, the spurts painting his stomach and thighs and barely missing the keyboard to his laptop. His eyes were squeezed shut, but he heard that same keening noise you’d made in the library, so he knew you came too.

#bryan kneef #bryan kneef imagine #bryan kneef x reader #bryan kneef x you #the good fight #the good fight fanfiction #tropes-and-tales

4 notes · View notes