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headfullofpresley · 1 year

Text

Paper Rings

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Summary: Your boyfriend surprises you with tickets to a Taylor Swift show. And then some.

Word count: 6,6K

Warning(s): modern!Elvis, kindergarten teacher!Elvis (only mentioned briefly lol but i'm soft), no covid so therefor the Lover Fest tour exists, mentions/appearance of miss Swift herself obv, fluff, use of pet names, smut; oral (m. receiving), vaginal penetration, creampie, unprotected sex, getting caught (kinda??).

Author's note: i hate this now that i've proofread it but oh well :'). enjoy luvvies <3

masterlist

Elvis had been awake since dawn, trying not to have a mental breakdown at the sound of his alarm screeching through the bedroom at the ungodly hour he had set it at the night before. It was his day off from work seeing it was Saturday, but he had a job planned for today that was so much more hellish than having to deal with screaming children at 8 in the morning on a week day.

To the toddlers in his class he was a God, he could actually handle them and they’d hang on to his every word.

But he knew people on the internet were ruthless. Especially when it came down to scoring tickets for Taylor Swift’s newly announced tour. He would much rather be doing anything else, preferred to be covered in paint by dozens of tiny hands and run back and forth whenever the kids in his classroom would call his name every five seconds. Or you know… sleep a few more hours.

But he wasn’t doing this for himself – he was doing it for you, his girlfriend of two years. Your birthday was in three months and when you nearly screamed his ear off when your favorite singer announced her tour, he knew he just had to get these tickets for you. He didn’t tell you about his plans though and made up the excuse that Jerry was celebrating his birthday on the same day Taylor performed in Memphis. Seeing Jerry’s birthday was indeed somewhere in the same month, you didn't question it.

You were pouty about it, but accepted the fact that you wouldn’t be able to see the blonde singer in the flesh this tour. You didn’t have enough money to travel to another city just for a concert, so unfortunately there wasn’t much you could do. You tried to hide your disappointment as much as you could, but Elvis saw right through you, which only made him more determined to get these tickets. He hated seeing you sad, even when you’d try to hide it from him.

He did not have to get up as early as he did since the sale wouldn’t go online until 11, but he was scared that he wouldn’t wake up in time and would have to watch his surprise for you pour down the drain. You had been staying over at your friend’s house last night, so today truly was the perfect day to do this since he knew you probably wouldn’t get home until noon.

You liked sleeping in just as much as he did.

He took a long shower to wake himself up before he fixed himself a quick breakfast, turning on his laptop that was placed on the dining table. There was literally no use to take position for the cold war he was about to step into, but he was nervous. This was the perfect gift for you and he would be damned if he would fail.

How hard could it really be? He was confident enough to admit that he could handle a couple of excited teenagers and twenty somethings over the internet.

But boy, was he wrong.

As the clock creeped closer to 11, he had Ticketmaster open on both his laptop and phone. He made a second account on the website, in hopes that would give him an advantage of getting the tickets he needed.

“What? Are you kidding me?” he mumbled to himself as he got flung right into the waiting queue as the tickets went online, not even giving him a chance to pick the tickets that he wanted. No, that he needed.

He grasped his phone from the table, quickly refreshing the page on it before he clicked on a date that was a few days later than the Memphis show in a nearby city. Once more, he was placed in the queue.

“C’mon, c’mon, please...” he begged at his laptop as he saw how slow the waiting process was going. He was pretty sure a lot of people were in the exact same position he was in right now – he didn’t care, though.

They were only slowing his process down even more.

The urge to refresh the page was big, but he didn’t. He shouldn’t. It would throw him right back at the end of the line. He was growing more impatient and even a little frustrated. He didn’t even listen to Taylor Swift himself other than when you’d blast it through the house and sure, some of her songs were good, but was it really worth waiting in front of a damned computer for this long? He had been sitting here for 20 minutes already.

If it wasn’t for you, he would’ve clicked out long ago.

Hell, he would still be sleeping.

He got up from his seat and grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the corner of the table, wanting to step out onto the balcony of your shared apartment for a smoke until he saw the page on his laptop loading and jumping to the next screen. He sat back down so fast he almost lost his balance, throwing the cigarettes back on the table as he looked at his screen.

“Fuck! No!” he exclaimed in frustration as the website let him know the Memphis show was completely sold out. He ran his hands through his hair as he groaned, flipping his screen off.

God, he looked like an idiot.

“Fuck you, Ticketmaster. Fuckin’ scammin’ assholes,”

He grabbed his phone again, letting out a laugh in disbelief as he saw the Nashville show was sold out as well. His hands were starting to get sweaty, his nerves never fading as he started looking at other dates of the tour. He didn’t care if they were far away, didn’t care about the fact that it would cost him a lot more if he’d buy tickets in a city that was across the country.

His eye landed on a few Los Angeles dates. He must’ve refreshed the page for thirty minutes, not caring that it kept telling him there weren’t any tickets available.

Sold out. Sold out. Sold out.

He still had hope, though. Still praying and wishing, begging to get some good karma back into his life.

He was a good son, a good boyfriend and a good neighbor.

He deserved these tickets.

You deserved these tickets.

He nearly screamed when he saw two tickets pop up for one of the LA shows after refreshing the page for about ten more times. He didn’t even care on what date the show was or that it was 1615 miles away from Memphis.

They were actually good seats, and expensive as hell, but he managed to get them. He figured someone must’ve waited too long before they checked out their purchase and he was glad that he waited.

One man's misery is another man's fortune.

Three months had passed and he actually managed to keep the concert a surprise for you. It worked out well, maybe even better, since the show he got tickets for was in the same month as your birthday. He planned to keep you in the dark about seeing Taylor until you’d get to the venue, but he did tell you where you two were going when he mentioned the trip he booked for a long weekend.

He told you it was for your birthday and you couldn’t be more excited. You barely left Memphis, only went to other cities in Tennessee to visit family every now and then, and you had always wanted to go to LA. You had no idea Elvis had more than one surprise up his sleeve.

“C’mon, El. We’re in Los Angeles, the city of angels,” you preached to your boyfriend as you stood by the end of the bed, which your boyfriend was currently hogging as he laid in the middle of it, in your hotel room.

“It’s only nine. We’re young, we should be out there and getting drunk!” you pointed at the window, to the bustling city below you, in hopes your point would come across better.

It was Friday night and you wanted to go out and explore the city more since the two of you arrived late last night. You had been out and about all day, but everyone knew big cities were more exciting at night. You had no idea why Elvis was refusing to go out tonight, because he had seemed just as excited about this weekend as you were.

“Baby, I’m tired. My feet are killin’ me,” he lied with a small pout, hoping you’d give in to his cuteness and crawl into bed with him. He opened his arms as he smiled sweetly at you, but you just sighed and crossed your arms as you walked over to the window to look out of it.

Such a drama queen, he thought.

“Tomorrow we’ll go out,” he told you as he kicked the blankets off of him, slipping his arms around your waist as he stood behind you. He leaned his chin on your shoulder, turning his head to kiss your jaw. “I already have a whole day planned for us, but you don’t want to waste sunlight because you have a hangover, do ya?”

You puff out a sigh again and leaned back in his embrace as you nodded. You knew he was right. You wouldn’t go home until Monday afternoon, so you still had enough time to go out and party like you usually barely did. Sundays were better for hangovers, anyways.

“Fine,” you grinned as you turned your head to look at him, stealing a kiss. “What are we doing tomorrow?”

“It’s a surprise, for your birthday. The only thing you need to worry your pretty little head about is what you’ll be wearing,”

“Casual? Formal? I need to knew these things,” you snapped your fingers at him playfully and he laughed as he grabbed your hands and brought them back down.

“Casual… chic?” he suggested with a chuckle, knowing you liked to dress up whenever you went out. “Fancy, but not too fancy. Oh, and don’t wear heels. You’ll be standing and dancing a lot,”

You raised your eyebrows at him, trying to think of what he had planned. Honestly, the only thing you could think of was a club or a bar, or something in that direction. Taylor’s show that was tomorrow never popped into your mind, because you knew it was sold out faster than you could blink.

“I like dancing so I’ll forgive you for tonight,” you joked, looking out of the window again. While you did want to go out and see more of the city right now, you weren’t actually mad at him.

As long as he was with you, you didn’t really care what the two of you were doing or where you were.

“I need a little more convincing. I think you’re still mad,” he grinned against your skin as he kissed his way down to your neck, his hands releasing yours to wander up your stomach and to your chest. You knew the words he spoke were a joke, but his actions were definitely not.

“I thought you were tired?”

He laughed softly as he walked backwards, tugging you along to the bed. He spun you around in his arms and grabbed your chin, grinning down at you.

“Never too tired for this, you know that,” he stole one more kiss before he had you on your back on the soft mattress, hovering above you before you had time to protest.

Not that you were planning to. You never told him ‘no’ and if you did, it was very rare. And getting lost in a sea of sheets with your boyfriend couldn’t compare to the nightlife Los Angeles had to offer.

You and Elvis slept until noon the next day, because after getting a noise complaint from the people in the next room, you two decided to raid the mini bar. No major hangovers slowing you down, thank God. You felt better after getting some food in you, not giving Elvis the chance to tell you ‘I told you so’.

“Why do I have to wear that? It’ll ruin my make-up,” you whined as you looked at the sleeping mask that was dangling from his fingertips. You just came out of the restaurant you had an early dinner at, because Elvis insisted you needed to eat enough for tonight’s activity, and you were starting to get nervous.

You could handle the elements of surprises but blindfolded?

Rather not.

“Babe, put ‘em on,” he told you as he took a step closer to you, placing the elastic of the mask over your head before you could protest. You gasped as you widened your eyes at him, trying to grab his hands when he pulled the mask over your eyes but he swatted them away every time. You were sure people were looking at you two as if you were complete idiots, but then again, this was LA. Nobody probably cared.

“Don’t be so stubborn and just follow me,” he whispered in your ear as he wrapped one arm around your shoulder, taking your hand in his. “You trust me, don’t ya, little?”

You shivered at his warm breath tickling at the shell of your ear and sighed softly as he kissed it. You nodded your head, slowly walking forward with his guidance. You did trust him and you doubted this surprise would be anything bad or crazy, so you really had no other choice than to put your faith in his hands.

You were quite proud of yourself for not completely freaking out or losing your shit – after walking for what seemed like forever, you were placed in an Uber with your boyfriend next to you. He was too busy talking to the driver about God knows what and you kept trying to sneak your hand up to the mask to lift it and look out the window to see where you were. Elvis noticed every time though, lacing your fingers together with his, trapping you. You huffed in annoyance, pouting as you sat there in the backseat, feeling like you were being kidnapped.

Which you were, in a way. Only willingly and with lots of reassuring kisses from Elvis.

You heart skipped a beat as the car came to a stop, nerves intensifying tenfold when Elvis helped you get out of the car and said his goodbyes to the driver. You weren’t in the right mind to do the same, squeezing his hand which earned you a deep laugh from his side. You felt him move behind you and place his hands on your shoulders, his voice right next to your ear as he spoke.

“You can take ‘em off now, Lover,”

You frowned slightly underneath the mask, thinking the pet name was weird. Formal, almost. He had never in your relationship called you that.

You didn’t need to be told twice though – as you pulled off the mask and blinked a few times to let your eyes get used to the light again, you noticed the huge banner that was plastered on the SoFi Stadium.

Taylor Swift – Lover Fest Tour

You stood there. You stood there and stared without speaking a word.

Now Elvis was getting nervous, afraid that he made a mistake. Afraid that this isn’t what you wanted. He was even starting to doubt if this was your favorite artist at all, despite the amount of records you had at home or the fact that he knew the names of every single one of Taylor’s cats because you wouldn’t shut up about the celebrity.

He even listened to her music on his way to work for the past months so he could remember the lyrics and sing along with you, not wanting to seem like a fool in a sea full of die hard fans.

But when you turned around and he saw the tears in your eyes, his nerves faded away completely. A small huff escaped his mouth as you practically jumped in his arms, squeezing the air out of his lungs with your firm embrace.

“Oh my God, I love you,” you cried in excitement.

“Only because of this?” he grinned teasingly as he looked at you when you pulled back to look at him.

“What? No! I love you, always always always,” you giggled as you grabbed his face, kissing him all over. He grabbed your hands as he laughed, looking at you.

“I love you too, little. You deserve it,” he told you, pecking your lips as he slipped his hands in yours. “You’ve been so busy with work and everythin’, I couldn’t let you miss this,”

“Thank you so much, baby. You’re the best, you know that?” you sighed happily as you squeezed his hands, stealing another kiss. “How did you even manage to get tickets? It was sold out in minutes,”

He grinned as he let go of one of your hands, swinging his arm over your shoulder to take you to the back of the queue. He raised his chin, smug smirk sitting on his face.

“You know, I got my ways,” he looked at you as you laughed, slapping his chest softly before you wrapped your arm around his waist, hugging into his side. “And you just said it, didn’t ya? I’m the best,”

You rolled your eyes, but allowed him to bathe in the size of his ego. As long as it wouldn’t drown him, you thought it was rather attractive.

“Y/N, now you’re takin’ it too far,” Elvis told you as his shoulders slumped on purpose as you pointed at a t-shirt at the merch stand. You had just bought one for yourself and Elvis was about to drag you away from the goodies until you spotted the shirts for males. He had already seen them but hoped you wouldn’t.

“Why? You’ll only have to wear it tonight!” you laughed as you wiggled your eyebrows at him, pointing out the shirt to the employee.

“Exactly, a waste of money. Let’s get a drink and find our seats,” he told you but you stopped listening. You took the shirt the girl handed to you and held it in front of him, smiling brightly as it seemed it was the right size. You turned back to the girl as you took your wallet out of your purse and Elvis sighed, knowing that he couldn’t stop you.

As he looked around, his eyes met those of another guy who was obviously here with his girlfriend. The redhead next to him was all dressed up – cat ears and glitter on her face and the whole shebang. Just like him, his girl had him dressed in a tour shirt. A baby pink and blue one.

At least you gave him a white one and you weren’t dressed up like a cat. Could be hot, but not outside of the bedroom.

He gave the guy a sympathetic nod before he turned back to you, taking the shirt you handed to him to pull it over his head.

As long as you were happy, he was too. And right now, you were all smiles as excitement basically oozed out of you. He already forgot about the shirt and didn’t give a damn about what anyone would think, not even Jerry who you were definitely sending the picture that you just took to.

You were happy that Elvis told you not to wear heels, because as soon as Taylor appeared on the stage and the show started, you were up and out of your seat to move to the music. Elvis was standing as well, arm hung lazily around your waist as he sipped on his beer, ever the supportive boyfriend.

He didn’t recognize every song but the ones that he did know, he sang along to. It warmed your heart and he could see it made you happy, especially when he’d sing the lyrics of the sweet songs to you.

You were over the moon. There was not a single worry on your mind. No work stress weighed you down and despite this not being the music he listened to, Elvis felt the same. There was something magical about concerts, about an artist connecting with their fans through music. And although some girls were dressed up all silly and too much for his taste, the vibes in the venue were perfect.

He immediately recognized the song Paper Rings and he downed his beer, throwing the empty cup on his seat. You were too occupied with cheering and singing, not noticing he took a small box out of his pocket.

“I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want, and

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Uh huh, that's right

Darling, you're the one I want

In paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

Oh, you're the one I want,”

You turned to him to sing the lyrics to him and that’s when you noticed he was down on one knee, the ring sparkling in the lights as he held it out to you in the box. You gasped as you widened your eyes, hiding your mouth behind your hands. His actions caught the eye of the people around you as well and they were all watching in both excitement and anticipation.

You two even caught the attention of Taylor herself, since you were on the second row. Not only did you have a perfect view of her, she had one of you and your boyfriend as well.

She laughed in excitement while she sang, pointing at you and Elvis so everyone would look at you two. You hadn’t noticed the camera that was pointing into your direction as well, or the fact that you were currently on the huge screen, showing your boyfriend’s proposal to the entire stadium.

Elvis wasn’t aware either, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t care if there were thousands of people around them, or just you and him. He loved you more than life itself and had been planning this before he even got the tickets – he knew this would garantuee him a definite yes, though.

He didn’t even have to stay the words, because you were already nodding and screaming your answer. As he slipped the ring around your finger and he stood up to kiss you, he did ask you again. Just because he wanted to hear you say it again.

“Will you marry me, little?”

You cried as you nodded, kissing his lips.

“Yes! Thousand times yes!” you yelled above the music, laughing as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hug him as tight as you possibly could.

“She said yes!” Taylor yelled excitedly into the mic as she looked at you two, clapping her hands. You nearly died as she blew you a kiss and Elvis laughed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, smiling at Taylor before he attacked your face with kisses.

The rest of the show you and Elvis danced and your heart skipped a beat every time he sang along, his head right next to yours as you were still in his arms. You loved and appreciated him so much and you already had a few ideas of how to properly thank him.

You were ready to leave as soon as the show was over, but before you and Elvis could leave your seats, a blonde middle aged woman approached you two.

You immediately recognized her as Taylor’s mom and almost had a heart attack on the spot, though you had enough self control not to scream in her face. When she asked you two to come backstage because her daughter wanted to meet you, Elvis had to do the talking because you were starstruck.

“We would love to, mrs. Swift,” he smiled politely at her as he held onto your hand, tugging you along to follow her to the backstage area. You could barely speak and Elvis couldn’t stop laughing at you, pulling you into his side to talk in your ear.

“Please don’t scream in her face, baby. Just hold my hand and you’ll be all right, hmm?” he whispered and all you could do was nod, inhaling a deep breath through your nose to blow it back out. It did nothing to calm you down.

The three of you stopped walking as you reached Taylor’s dressing room and once the door opened and the blonde that you had been admiring from the crowd came over to you with her arms wide open, you squeezed Elvis’ hand firmly before you quickly let go and wrapped your arms around Taylor.

The singer was absolutely wonderful to you and your boyfriend. She congratulated you on your engagement, which you were still trying to wrap your head around, and she signed anything you asked her to. She signed Elvis’ shirt as well, which you were definitely going to tease him with later because he seemed rather happy about it.

His music taste was on the complete different spectrum – mostly punk and rock bands that you forgot half of the names of.

The louder, the better, he always said.

But he always accepted your taste just as you did his. Neither of you would mock each other’s music and you freely let him play whatever he wanted through the house. Perhaps it was only something simple, something normal for a couple to not be assholes to each other, but to you and Elvis it was a sort of respect. Music meant a lot to the both of you and just because he didn’t know every Taylor Swift song by heart, didn’t mean he wasn’t secretly excited to meet her face to face.

After talking some more and taking pictures, you and Elvis left the dressing room and got escorted to the exit by Taylor’s mother again. The woman seemed to be trusting of you two, or just busy, because she said goodbye before you and your boyfriend actually left the building.

The backstage area was just as huge as the venue itself and it seemed like your boyfriend had other plans than leaving. He tugged you away from the exit door and laughed softly as he placed a finger against his lips, pulling you along through the long hall ways. You squealed softly as he dipped into a room, taking you right along with him.

It was an empty green room that hadn’t been used you came to realize as Elvis turned on the lights and locked the door from the inside. If anyone had a key, which you were sure everyone that worked here did, they could open the door from the outside. Elvis didn’t give you a chance to unlock the door and walk out, pulling you into his chest as he grabbed your hands.

“Elvis! We can’t do this!” you whispered with a giggle, trying to ignore his hands that were now snaking around your waist and slipping down to squeeze your ass.

“Why? Nobody is here,” he grinned mischievously as he leaned in to kiss your lips. His lips were so plumb and soft that you couldn’t resist him. You never could.

“We don’t live in this city, anyways. What’re they gonna do? Kick us out?”

You wanted to protest once more, tell him that you and him should move this to your hotel room, but the words died on your tongue as he kissed his way down to your neck, sucking on that little sensitive spot underneath your ear. That’s when you turned to putty in his hands and he damn well knew it.

“S-someone.. m-might hear..” you managed to whisper, your words coming out stuttered. His lips and tongue against your warm skin was distracting you too much, so even though you voiced out your worries, you couldn’t get yourself to really care if someone would hear or not.

You were aware that this green room was a risky place to have sex. Especially because the artist that just performed at the stadium was still freaking present somewhere down the hall, but as he lifted you up and put you down on the couch, you were already too far gone. It wasn’t the first time you two fooled around outside the comfort of your own home, but for some reason it felt even more exciting in a place like this.

You were sure the green room had been used for worse things.

Elvis didn’t stop you when you pushed him back and got on your knees in front of him, quick fingers working on his pants. There was a hint of surprise in his eyes though and you didn’t miss it.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you told him in hushed voice, your eyes meeting his as you gave him the sweetest smile you were capable of.

“Oh? And why’s that, huh?”

He already knew the answer, he just loved hearing it.

“I was proposed to and met Taylor fucking Swift in one night,” you grinned at him as you pulled his zipper down, fingertips hooking underneath the elastic of his boxershorts. “And I like the taste of your cock,”

He lifted his hips up a little, allowing you to pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs, groaning softly as you immediately wrapped your hand around him. “Good enough for me,”

You raised an eyebrow at the smirk he wore on his face – so confident and cocky.

Once you brought your hand up to caress your thumb over the head of his cock before you brought it back down again, the cockiness was smacked right off of his face as he parted his lips, a soft moan rolling off his tongue. He tangled his fingers in your hair to keep it out of your face as you took him in your mouth.

Usually, you’d take your time when giving him head but you were aware that you didn’t have all the time in the world and you weren’t leaving this room before he fucked you.

“Shit,” he groaned softly as you looked up at him when you brought your head back up, tongue tracing the most prominent vein on his cock before you lapped it around his sensitive tip. “Do that again,” he told you as his teeth sunk into his lower lip, half lidded eyes watching you as you repeated the action. When you grinned up at him, he let out a moan and threw his head back on the couch.

He tried to be quiet, he really did, but as you got sloppier and sucking him off like it was the last time you’d ever do so, he couldn’t keep his big mouth shut. His hips were bucking up to try and follow your mouth every time you moved up and he threw his arm over his face, biting down on the short sleeve of his shirt.

“Fuckfuckfuck, s-stop,” he gasped as he felt his orgasm nearing, looking down at you as he caressed some hair out of your face when he took his fingers out of it. He was just as eager as you were and while you loved having him come undone in your mouth, you moved fast as you got up and pulled your denim skirt up, slipping your panties down.

“G-God… Hold s-still for a second,” he groaned as you sank down onto him, his hands grabbing your hips to keep you in place so he could get used to being inside of you.

He was sensitive and you were just so tight and warm.

You placed your hands on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him. He immediately slipped his tongue inside of your mouth, deepening the kiss and you didn’t move until you felt his hands moving down to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his palms. You knew it was one of his signs that he was ready for it.

You moaned into his mouth as you moved onto him, immediately at a steady pace. You were sure your ass would have his hands imprinted on them with how hard he was squeezing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care – the slight sting mixed deliciously with your pleasure.

“F-faster baby,” he whispered as he pulled back from the kiss, leaning back as his hands moved up to your clothed breasts, squeezing them softly through the fabric of your shirt. It didn’t do much for you since you still had another top on underneath the tour shirt you bought together, but you didn’t stop him. Instead you did as he told you and moved faster, moaning shamelessly as you chased your own high.

He moved one hand down in between your bodies, fingertips having no issues with finding your clit as he started rubbing it with skilled movements. He knew just what you liked and knew that this would get you where he wanted you faster – your nails dug into his shoulders as you moaned a little louder, your eyes meeting his.

He gave you a small smile. It looked sweet and innocent, not matching the pace of his fingers and your thrusts at all.

You smiled back at him, moving your hands to his chest and right on top of Taylor’s face that was printed on his shirt.

You didn’t need an extra pair of eyes watching the small sin you were committing.

“I’m close, so close, baby,” you grunted as you clenched your fingers in his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks. Thighs shaking, walls convulsing erratically around his length.

A smark remark laid heavy on his tongue, something along the lines of you ruining his autographed shirt, but he swallowed the words as he came undone not long after you did. He removed his fingers from your clit and held onto your hips, holding you still as a deep moan escaped his throat, hips stuttering up into you a little.

You ran your fingers through his hair before you collapsed on top of him, both of you catching your breath as he was going soft inside of you.

“I love you, little,” he hummed in your ear as he kissed your cheek and you slowly lifted your head off his shoulder, smiling at him as you caressed the back of his neck with your nails. The way he shivered made you giggle. “I love you more, babe,”

He was only seconds away from protesting, telling you that simply was not possible, but he was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. You both widened your eyes at each other, panic settling in your stomach as you got up as quick as you could. You pulled some tissues out of the box that stood on the small coffee table in front of the couch and cleaned some of his cum that was dripping down your thighs, shoving the tissues to the bottom of the trash can by the door.

“Someone in here?” A deep male’s voice barked from the other side of the door and you and Elvis quickly got decent. Just as you pulled your skirt down and smoothed out your hair, a key was stuck in the keyhole of the door to turn the lock but Elvis swung the door open before the person on the other side could.

A broad shouldered security guy stood in front of you, looking angry as he stared you down. “Passes,” he simply said, holding his hand out.

You grabbed Elvis’ arm and Elvis scratched the back of his head, his other hand feeling his pockets as he gave the guy an awkward smile. He was looking for something neither of you were in possession of and while he had been so confident and careless at the start of this, he was starting to panic now too.

He was pretty sure you could get arrested for something like this. And that was not how he wanted this night to end – although it would make for a funny story to tell your future children and grandchildren.

He had absolutely no idea what to do or what excuse to use, but like an angel fluttering down from Heaven itself, Taylor and entourage walked down the hall way, on their way to leave the stadium. The security guard was currently having a go at you and your boyfriend and you were close to tears until Elvis nudged your arm and nodded his head in Taylor’s direction.

“Is there a problem here?” she asked as she appeared next to the man in front of you, her question aimed more at him than at you and Elvis.

You slipped your hand in Elvis’, sucking in a deep breath of air and keeping it in your lungs. The man didn’t waste time in explaining what happened and how he assumed that you and Elvis had done… something inside the room.

Taylor wasn’t an idiot – she saw the hickey in your neck and the flush on your cheeks. The both of you also completely forgot about the hint of red lipstick that was stained on Elvis’ lips.

“That’s a serious accusation to make, isn’t it? I know these two and I’m positive that the thing you’re accusing them of is simply not true,” the singer spoke confidently as she crossed her arms, smiling as she looked at you. “I’m sure they just lost their way back here,”

You and Elvis widened your eyes, nodding your heads.

“Y-yeah, that’s it. It’s so big back here, we got lost on our way to the exit,”

“Huge place. Very cool, though! You must love your job,” Elvis squeezed your hand firmly to get you to stop talking and you immediately did, pressing your lips into a thin line.

Taylor laughed softly, nodding as the security guard started apologizing, a shade of crimson creeping up his neck.

“It’s alright. Just try not to judge people so quick, hm?” she told him, patting his shoulder as she nodded her head while starting to walk away. You could see her mother laughing softly at the two of you and Elvis quickly pulled you along, following the others out of the venue.

You talked with Taylor for a little bit, apologizing for not leaving the building after you exchanged your first goodbyes but she could only laugh about it.

You probably wouldn’t have survived if she would’ve been angry with you. Elvis was thankful that she was as nice as you always told him – he really was not looking forward to going back to the hotel with his girlfriend being completely inconsolable.

“Did you have a good time, beautiful?” Elvis asked as you both sat in the back of an Uber after you both came down from the crazy events of the evening. You leaned into him and looked up, placing a kiss on his chin as you smiled.

“The best, because you were there,” you whispered, sprawling out your fingers that were in his lap. “Anywhere I go with my fiancé is fun,”

He laughed softly as he looked down at your hand, caressing his thumb over the ring he put on you tonight. He couldn’t stop smiling, kissing your temple. “You like the ring?”

“I love it,” you told him as you looked at it, lacing your fingers with his. “But you know I’d marry you with or without a diamond,”

“Even with paper rings?” he grinned and you looked back at him, laughing softly.

You leaned in, softly pressing your lips against his.

“Especially with paper rings,”

156 notes · View notes

demadogs · 10 months

Note

Do you know any good wlw movies/ TV shows on netflix? I've watched a few, I am not ok with this, Carol, duck butter, but im LESBIAN DEPRIVED!

~🌈

YOU AND ME BOTH GIRLY.

unfortunately almost all my favorite sapphic shows have been canceled especially the ones on netflix but i do still think theyre worth your time. but it might also kill you bc the story isnt finished. all these shows are also just amazing plots too. like i would love them just as much even if there wasnt wlw relationships.

heres what i got for shows but not all of these are on netflix.

the wilds. this is an AMAZING SHOW. its on amazon its about a staged plane crash where 8 girls are stuck on an island but they dont know that its all a fucked up social experiment. a lesbian relationship became established before it got canceled after s2.

cable girls. this is on netflix and it actually DIDNT GET CANCELED HALLELUJAH. its an amazing show but it actually doesnt really count as sapphic bc one of the characters in the wlw relationship ends up being trans. but its still a great queer love. this shows spanish and set in late 1920s madrid at a telephone company. its one of my favorite shows ever literally every season is better than the last plz watch it.

everything sucks. this is on netflix and it did get canceled but the lesbian relationship was mostly established before the end of the first season. its set in the 90s and its just a really cute show im mad it got canceled.

paper girls. this is on amazon and ngl this is one of the most painful sapphic show cancelations ive ever suffered through so if you dont wanna watch it just bc of that i dont blame you. its about these four young girls who accidentally time travel from the 80s to current day and meet their future selves. the gay girlies are heavily implied and foreshadowed but they dont get together before the end of the show :(

the last of us!!! not canceled its still going!! this show has an episode that shows a past sapphic relationship with the lesbian main character but the first season doesnt introduce a new relationship yet. the second season will tho. im sure youve heard about this or already watched it but its about a zombie-like pandemic from a deadly fungus and its total post apocalyptic. also AMAZING found family father/daughter trope. dare i say i actually think i like them more than el and hopper.

i really need to find more great sapphic movies.

my favorite lesbian movie of all time is portrait of a lady on fire. its a french period piece and its just beautiful and THERE ARE LIKE ZERO MEN IN THE WHOLE MOVIE. i think the only line a man has is “bonjour” and thats it. MY KINDA MOVIE!!!!! INSTANT 5 STARS!!!!! i love this movie. the initial premise is that a woman needs to be painted but she cant know that shes being painted so the other woman has to just study her while hanging out and then paint her from memory. it ends up being much more than that but gaaahhh if you only watch one of these make it this movie.

another iconic sapphic movie is but im a cheerleader. way different tone much less dramatic and more comedy but still never gets old.

you didnt mention books but im gonna give you book recs anyway.

seven husbands of evelyn hugo!!!!!!! im sure youve heard about this. i dont think its overrated at all it really was such a good book and dont let the title fool you its gay as hell. if youre really not a reader tho this is going to be a netflix movie soon.

an amazing duo book series is criers war. i LOVE scifi and fantasy and this is my favorite sapphic scifi story ive ever read/watched. i want this to be a movie or show so bad. its about a world where some people are people and some are what they refer to as “automa” which are essentially cyborgs but they look just like humans. crier is an automa and the daughter of a king and ayla is a poor human and she has a vendetta against crier bc her father was responsible for her familys murder but crier doesnt know this! so then ayla gets the job as her maid for the goal of killing her basically but of course it gets super gay instead. its such an interesting take on the enemies to lovers trope bc its one sided, cryer has no idea ayla considers her her enemy. also neither of them are white i think crier is brown and ayla is black.

i hope you like these! and if anybody else has lesbian story recs plz put it in the replies or rbs cuz i also need more lesbian content!!!

#people plz give me more recs im begging #every new gay shit that comes out is mlm and i still eat it up usually but god where are the gay girlies :((#byler #bc a lot of you guys are lesbians #sapphic #lgbt movie #eden answers

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dballzposting · 10 months

Note

hey remember when i talked a lot about maté and Trunks and Goten and maté? I think while the whole maté situation is calming down they would fuse again for reasons that they don't even know-

they really just do that shit sometimes at this point and being Gotenks is a 30 minute gamble cuz he either does something awesome or spends them all watching the spiderman movie trilogy via a 30 minute ytph (hispanic youtube poop, i mention the hispanic part because there is literally a 30 minute ytph of spiderman on youtube and i watched it in one of my most deranged states possible, such as the one i'm writing this to you in) and like they don't even remember the ytph clearly so it wasn't even worth it like what the fuck Gotenks we're never fusing again (they fuse again a couple of days later)

Ok the point was they would stop their Maté Cold War and fuse again and when they unfused they would find themselves in the capsule kitchen surrounded by wet yerba (the plant yknow that maté is) and like sugar and water all over the floor and its a huge fucking mess and there's a maté cup turned over and the thermos is on the floor too and there's a broken glass juice jar with ice that hasn't melted yet and their mouths taste like grass and have no fucking clue what just happened.

They never really find out but they know it must have been bad, absolutely fucking terrible even, and after getting like scolded and made to clean GOTENKS' mess they decide to put their stupid maté aside for GOOD and now they get together to drink it like normal fucking people and now Trunks makes terere for Goten on purpose and he's like "yo dude i made this for you" because he has chilled out (about the maté thing not about anything else) and Goten would be like "haha aww you do give a shit Trunks oh my god" and they would be normal about maté. except not really. because those boys have a primal strangeness to them that i don't think will ever go away, and that's like, awesome i think, it's lovely even.

Anyway that was that but now im thinking about like after this event maybe their families notice that they fucking stopped with the whole "*makes you drink maté* and *EXPLODES YOU WITH MY MIND*" thing and maybe they do like a thing with all the Z fuckos at Bulma's house again like "yeah let's get together and have a drink and hang out why not since these little idiots have finally stopped arguing about the cooler tea" and

i don't fucking know where i was going with this actually i just had two ideas about this possible scenario

Goku and Vegeta attempting to have maté together alongside everyone else and probably fail miserably because they are. them. you know them. Also Goku would probably drink maté with sugar and Vegeta would fucking hate that i think

Yamcha is there.

"Yamcha is there" is open to interpretation but i personally think he would have a look at Trunks preparing the maté and he'd be pleasantly surprised.. Also he's one of those guys that puts extra herbs and stuff on maté like orange peels or a little coffee or sweetens his with burnt sugar caramel....

Yamcha is very gaucho-esque to me in a very special way like he's a lot like Goku in the way they both have this very warm welcoming rural aura to them but Yamcha is more like my grandma that would go to the countryside of Santiago Del Estero and come back with ostrich eggs?? and would make me omelettes with ostrich eggs sometimes?? and let me keep the eggshell and paint it and stuff- Yamcha would do that to trunks he would go to the countryside and be back with something for him and he'd tell him tips about making maté and stories about the animals and stuff cuz i would be like 8 years old and my grandma would be back from Santiago and she'd be like "i killed a chicken :) and we ate it" and i'd be like woow grandma thats so awesome you're so cool and i think Yamcha would be back and he'd be like "Que onda pibe adivina que te traje del campo?"(what's up kid, guess what i brought you from the countryside?) and maybe he'd bring him like-

ONE OF THOSE RED STRING ARTESANAL BRACELETS THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO WARD OFF BAD ENERGY- Yamcha would SO bring Trunks one of those i just know it i feel it

anyway goodnight or whatever time it is there lmao

BLOWN AWAY.

Going in order:

GOTENKS WOULD.

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING EVERYTHING UP..! TRUNKS'S YOUTUBE SEARCH HISTORY , HIS KITCHEN , HIS INTEGRITY, HIS LIFE, ETC ..

It's like Gotenks is a metaphor for whatever potency is occurring between Goten & Trunks, he's a manifestation of their union, and so his life's purpose / natural way is to behave in a manner conducive to the necessary expression & resolution of whatever Goten & Trunks are going through. They both secretly are missing the days when they used to make youtube poops together, and so Gotenks watches that spiderman ytph. Their past maté disagreements are incurring subtle rifts in their bond and the silence regarding is beginning to ache, so Gotenks unwittingly mobilizes to address & negotiate with this distress by trying to make maté POORLY in the capsule kitchen.

"those boys have a primal strangeness to them that i don't think will ever go away, and that's like, awesome i think, it's lovely even." oh my goodness .... Hi. This Is Real

UM GOKU LITERALLY WOULD DO THAT LIKE .. obviously tastes change with age but I'm thinking about how in the original dragon ball he thought that bulma's coffee was "bitter soup" and while I think that Goku is a Classy and Respectable man, and lives life authentically and organically, and probably drinks maté like a proper gaucho, I Would Not Be Surprised if actually he doctored that shit up with sugar .

And Vegeta would be mad no matter WHAT Goku does . He would be like "why do you put sugar in it, kakarot ..!" and then be like "quit hogging it, kakarot..!"

YAMUCHA IS THERE ..

No more words needed form me just reading this over and over and over and over like it's the most important thing in the world (it is)

DOES YAMUHCA COME BACK WITH dinosaur eggs to eat? "I killed a velociraptor. And we ate it :)" "Wow Yamucha you're so cool..."

I really really reaaallly really really LIKE THIS !! I really like the sword pendant becasue it's a universal symbol for clarity and glory and in the context of warding off bad energy it's so .. potent .. like seeing through the smoke and fog and confusion and terror .. and Trunks loves swords

EVERYBODY REBLOG !

#SORRY THIS ASK WAS SENT IN JUNE 17 .. SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG.#dballz posting #dballz asks #art #YU7I #Yamucha Dad Swag #goten & trunkz

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ashes-of-ailell · 9 months

Note

*Cracks knuckles*

Time for propaganda!

Ok so. I love FE 8. Not for the plot (its good though). Not for the gameplay or any mechanics. I love it for these two.

Franz and Forde. Best siblings in FE history. You cannot change my mind. I have so many feelings about them.

Why do I love them so much you may ask? They are SO wholesome. Forde raised his younger brother after their parents both died when Franz was still very young. He was devastated because he loved his parents. He was still a child/ teen and had all of these new responsibilities. He probably didn't even know what to do. But he figured it out. For his brother. So that he will have a happy childhood. There is nothing more important to Forde than Franz.

And like they know each other better than anyone else. Everyone describes Forde as lazy and carefree. When he isnt. He is canonically a great fighter (even though this does not translate well in the game xD) but he is sleeping or painting on the battlefield. As you do. And no one gets why. It's stupid. It's dangerous. He has no reason to do so. Wrong. He isn't in danger when sleeping because he has a modified saddle so he won't fall off. And he is painting to study the terrain. Bro is smarter than anyone gives him credit for. And apparently Franz is the only one who knows this/ figured it out. Because Forde doesn't take any credit for it. He wants everyone to think he is useless, carefree and clumsy. To make them laugh and lighten up the mood during a war. He doesn't want others to be sad because he knows how horrible it is. And he has always been like that. When their dad was gone because of some missions or whatever and Franz was sad about it he tried to cheer him with his drawings.

What about Franz though you may wonder? He is SUCH a cute little bean. He wants to be a great knight like his brother and Seth. He is better than them gameplay wise. At least by far better than Forde and at least on par with Seth. He is helping everywhere he can. In every last support of his he just so *vague hand gestures* so adorable. Not a single mean cell in this boy's body. He literally recruited Amelia who was fighting for the enemy because he thought she somehow got caught in the battle and wanted to help her get to safety. (Kinda funny conversation btw) And then in their supports proceeds to teach her how to actually fight. They also have a paired ending togetehr. Puppy love at its finest.

ANYWAY I love Franz and Forde so much you can't even imagine. Faerghast made a half an hour long video about Forde btw. Like he such a well written (but sadly irrelevant and growth wise pretty much useless) character.

Here is the link in case youre interested: https://youtu.be/rairchPLY30

Ok enough propaganda. Have a nice day! 🙃

Hi there!!

This was such a delight to read. I can really tell how much you like these characters and it's lovely.

While I haven't played the game these two are from, reading about them has made me genuinely rather interested. It sucks that Forde may not be the best unit wise, which I imagine must limit chances to use him in battle, I'm glad his supports and the like seem to be quite good.

Will definitely have a look at Franz and Amelia's paired ending, it sounds incredibly cute. I'll also try and have a look at the video you linked, it sounds interesting and will allow me to learn more about Forde. They absolutely sound like incredible characters!!

I hope you have a lovely day too!! :3

#sparrow answers #littledragonkana #Franz and Forde beloveds #answering these has given me some characters to research :3

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dual-domination · 1 year

Text

I posted 662 times in 2022

97 posts created (15%)

565 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-marron

@huntress1013

@jaimebluesq

@zhu-yilong-laying-on-things

@pangzi

I tagged 591 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#guardian - 78 posts

#dmbj - 71 posts

#zhu yilong - 71 posts

#zhao yunlan - 65 posts

#mdzs - 61 posts

#wu xie - 50 posts

#bai yu - 42 posts

#shen wei - 42 posts

#nie mingjue - 42 posts

#the untamed - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i just wouldn't take xiexie to the desert island bc if he and zyl are there i'm going to stay alone.... if you know what i mean jksjkskjs

My Top Posts in 2022:

I am so sorry, but you two made my day. Literally made me giggle like a teenager. Thank you so much. OK, new ask.

Pairing: Lan XiChen x Jiang Wanyin

AU : The frazzled babysitter

You're welcome! It's my pleasure to serve the humor and comedy 😆

So here we go again:

Little menaces

Xichen tried to not give up. Coffee and energetic drinks weren't working anymore. He wondered why his didi and his (twice?) brother-in-law got cute sweet children like a-Yuan and tiny romantic Zizhen, meanwhile he got Jingyi and a-Ling. Just one of them was enough to make him keep the two eyes very open, but the two, together… a true nightmare. A-Ling would fight over his jiujiu's attention - against Jingyi AND against Xichen. And Jingyi would fight back because… well, because he was who he was: the less Lan of all Lans.

LXC: Sometimes I wonder if there's any chance of Jingyi being actually a Nie changed at birth…

JC: Sometimes I wonder HOW Wei Wuxian managed to raise such a calm son while a-jie's child is… this full-time upset baby Peacock…

JL: A-Ling is not a peacock!

JC: Your dad is a Peacock, and so are you.

JL: Mean jiujiu!

LXC: Wanyin, making them cry won't help…

JC: Helps me to get my revenge for what they've done to us.

LXC: They're just small babies… we have to love them.

JC: I love my peacock nephew.

JL: A-Ling is going to tell everything to xiaoshushu!

JC: Just like you, he's not a big thing.

LJY: Jin Ling is a coward!

JL: And you are what??

LJY: I'm a fucking badass NIE!

Next time they'd have to babysit, Jingyi definitely would stay with Mingjue and a-Yao, even at risk of learning at least five more bad words and cursing to Lan Qiren's horror.

47 notes - Posted August 10, 2022

Now that my husband loves Mo Dao Zu Shi, I can send him stuff I find on Tumblr. So I sent this one for him...

And he sent it back to me and told me he fixed it:

He doesn't want to be a Lan anymore. He wants to be a Nie, have a respectable mustache and qi-deviate like man.

He says: The Mustache is Canon.

93 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

POV: Meng Yao never left Qinghe

Part 1:

* MY, immersed in business papers. *

NMJ: What are you doing?

MY: Long-term investments.

NMJ: For what?

MY: For good reasons.

NMJ: I was not consulted.

MY: War is your business, investments are mine.

NMJ: Shall I remind you who Qinghe Nie Sect belongs to?

MY and NHS looking at each other from opposite sides of the room.

NHS: Da-ge, shall I remind you who you belong to?

NMJ: I sense a conspiracy here…

( @novas-grimoire I blame that tweet... and my obsession in Nieyao fix-it stuff)

97 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

It's been a while since my hand tremors returned and it's been rare for me to feel like painting - especially since I've lost a lot of motivation since Traditional Art has become underrated in light of digital art.

But then this wonderful Guardian fic by @the-marron left me overly emotional and I can't get out of my head everything I felt while reading.

So, Marron, a quick painting of someone who wished he had the talent to convey your impeccable writing on a canvas, but really just has a lot of feelings.

Fun fact: it's the first time in over twenty years of being part of fandoms that I've tried to paint something for someone else's fic.

You can find this little literary treasure here:

When I walk past the mountain peak, it doesn't speak

(It took a lot of courage to post this 😅)

140 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

467 notes - Posted June 25, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #my n2 post is the one I wished to be my n1 bc it's personal #but the tags are accurate abt my feelings in 2022 sjkkjskjs #Marron look you're famous here XD #my longest tag is crack written under tazzy's ask game and that says a lot abt me #no surprise guardian and dmbj tags are where they are kjskjskjs #surprise is that I didn't post zhao yunlan enough or I forgot to tag :V

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raointean · 1 year

Text

I posted 629 times in 2022

That's 418 more posts than 2021!

92 posts created (15%)

537 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@incorrectringsofpower

@chaoticdumbassrogue

@inthetags

@bananaphanta

@positivityjediprince

I tagged 190 of my posts in 2022

#silmarillion - 18 posts

#obi wan kenobi - 14 posts

#fanfiction - 12 posts

#star wars - 10 posts

#rings of power - 10 posts

#elrond peredhel - 10 posts

#bridgerton - 9 posts

#anakin skywalker - 9 posts

#anthony bridgerton - 9 posts

#thor - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#they see the ekkreth emblem painted on his shoulder armor and recognize it as something a lot of the found children of his tribe held sacred

My Top Posts in 2022:

The Ghost crew's view on Ezra fighting the Empire at 14

Sabine - Started fighting the Empire pretty early herself, doesn't see anything wrong with it

Hera - Worries about his safety (Sabine's as well) but understands that he can take care of himself

Chopper - Doesn't give a damn

Kanan - Was literally a child soldier, doesn't see anything wrong with it

Zeb - Is very against the whole thing. Lasat didn't let anyone under the age of majority fight, even in small not-really-battles

Bonus

Rex: Sees small fourteen year old jedi with blue on his head and struggles not to call him Ahsoka

190 notes - Posted June 29, 2022

Kate: I'm about to do something really stupid

Edwina: Well, that's not a nice thing to call Anthony

194 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

Amavikkan Anakin Hcs

(The one where Anakin doesn't forget where he’s from)

He keeps it on the dl in the temple and as a padawan because it's a secret culture/language and there are no other Amavikkans around

(He keeps a journal in Amatakka. It's his most prized possession)

Anakin finds out that Obi-Wan was enslaved once when he was a padawan and teaches him some of his culture

When the war starts, he quickly realizes that the clones are not there voluntarily

He asks Kix to scan the troops on a hunch and discovers about the inhibitor chips early

The entire 501st is quietly de-chipped and it's standard procedure for incoming shinies as part of their initial medical exam

Any clones that don't want to fight are safely delivered to a planet where they can start a new life for themselves, giving the 501st the highest AWOL percentage in the entire army

When Ahsoka joins, Anakin asks her not to call him "master"

He won't explain why and eventually she stops prying, diverting her efforts into creating as many nicknames for him as possible

Anakin is part of the Tatooine freedom trail. He smuggles scanners and supplies to people and, occasionally, smuggles people themselves

Amavikkans know it's safe to come to him for help because he has the sign to Ekkreth "subtly" painted on EVERYTHING

Ahsoka figures out about the freedom trail pretty quickly and wants to help

Initially, Anakin is against it because it's actually really dangerous if they get caught and she has no way of understanding what's at stake

She stubborns her way into helping anyway

Fast-forward to Zygerria, Anakin is SUPER against Ahsoka posing as the slave because, what if it goes wrong? What if she's ACTUALLY enslaved? What if they can't find her again?

(It does go wrong and she is actually enslaved, but they don't lose her)

After that mission, Anakin takes Rex and Ahsoka into the kitchen at night and teach them some of the most basic stories while making them tzai

Rex is appreciative, but not super interested in learning more, as the clones have their own secrets and traditions

Ahsoka is curious, but a little insecure as she never really thought of herself as a slave

Anakin tells her an old Amavikkan proverb, the first of many

"A chain worn for a day is still heavy, a back whipped only once is still scarred"

(Basically, it means "if you've been enslaved ever, you can be part of the Amavikkan culture)

In addition to Jedi training, he teaches her how to go unseen and how to connect to planets

(The key is to ask nicely)

He also teaches her about his religion; Ar-Amu, Ekkreth, Leia, Tena, Maru...

She doesn't believe any of it is TRUE, unlike Anakin, but she appreciates the storytelling and the morals

I don't have an ending for this. Either it ends better than it did in canon, or it ends exactly the same way but 800000000 times more tragic

254 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

659 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Lúthien comes of age in safety and love. Her father rules in kindness and her mother shields the land from evil.

Dior comes of age in a time of unease. His father is strong and brave, his mother wise and bold, but the Fëanorians are a threat that ever hangs over his head.

Elwing comes of age in Valinor with her husband by her side and a trail of loss and woe behind them. Her sons are taken and her people are dead. The weight of responsibility is nearly enough to crush her.

Eluréd and Elurín do not come of age, they never had the chance.

Elrond and Elros come of age in a war zone. There is death and screaming, blood spills as often as rain. They have no parents, only each other. The world has never been safe for them. They know it never will be.

Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen come of age in safety and love. Their mother is kind and wise, their father shields the land from evil.

691 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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notony-tonyno · 3 months

Text

emily antonia. she/her. prehistoric millenial. a relic of the Before Times.

obligatory welcome post. this is a marvel sideblog. i follow from @sithdownani.

about me: i still have the original .zip file containing every single issue of marvel's civil war that i downloaded in 2010. old enough to remember printing copy-pasted a"friend"gers tower-era fanfics from livejournal so i could read them in the middle of my university history classes. literally wept for joy when they announced avengers 1 was greenlit by paramount studios. i am ancient. don't mess with me.

what i like: tony stark. steve rogers, a.k.a. peter's original father figure. deadpool's sparkly nail polish collection. wandavision has been my otp since kindergarten. wanda and pietro are magneto's kids period. the one where literally everyone adopts peter parker.

favorite fandom tropes: clint in the vents. peter, resident Youth of avenger's tower, eating peanut butter straight out of the jar at 2 a.m. steve sleeping on a grease-stained sofa in the corner of tony's workshop. bucky and sam: special guest stars on brooklyn 99. coulson will always be everyone's favorite. kate and yelena are everyone's problem.

what i do not like: people forgetting that a lot of these comics were written for kids who felt (and feel) like outsiders. x-men gave my weird ass a place to belong in my youth and i'll be damned if that wasn't the entire point of the series. fandom drama. discourse in general, but especially discourse that reads like a disagreement between unhinged eighth graders. The Bad Ending.

under the cut: myspace survey from 2008 (to really drive home that i am too old to be here) in case, for some reason, you want to know more about me:

1. Ever been to a professional sports game? i bleed los angeles blue

2. Ever get engaged? yeah. i'm getting married about it.

3. Have you ever been on TV? yes.

4. Ever been to prom? only under duress.

5. Ever stayed up for 24 hours or more? i once hallucinated a blue coyote running across all 15 lanes of the southbound 405 through some part of orange county because it was 3 a.m., i'd just ended my third consecutive 12 hour work shift of the week, and my daily commute was 2 hours one-way

6. Have you ever been to a concert? favorite performance i ever saw was a defunct j-pop boyband front-man who happened to be playing at the nokia club for mysterious reasons

7. Have you ever been in a car accident? sideswiped by a big rig the day of my university music department audition. got a scholarship for showing up anyway.

8. Did you ever learn another language? studied classical latin in high school because apparently i had big plans for updating the roman empire

9. Do you wear make-up? you mean modern war paint? i sleep in it, baby

10. Ever caught the stove on fire? once caught the house on fire with a loaded drier and burned the entire place to the ground

11. Ever meet someone famous? in my misspent youth i was almost internet famous for writing a novel about two guys who ate a lot of ramen and beat the shit out of each other.

...so yeah, that's me. 'sup.

#about me #obligatory welcome post

0 notes

project1939 · 7 months

Text

Day 43- Film: Son of Paleface

Release date: July 14th, 1952.

Studio: Paramount

Genre: Comedy

Director: Frank Tashlin

Producer: Robert L. Welch

Actors: Bob Hope, Jane Russell, Roy Rogers

Plot Summary: The Harvard educated son of Paleface heads West to claim his father’s fortune so his gold-digging girlfriend will marry him. When he arrives in town, he discovers his father’s money is nowhere to be found, and everyone in the area is owed money by him. Junior befriends two lawmen, gets caught up with a gang of bandits, and is chased by Native Americans who want to kill him.

My Rating (out of five stars): **

I’ve never not wanted to write about a film as much as this one. Virtually nothing in it worked for me, and precious little made it worthwhile viewing. I found Hope’s schtick unfunny, his objectification of woman annoying, and the treatment of Native Americans appalling. I usually give media from this long ago some leeway when it comes to our modern sensibilities. I try not to be a stick-in-the-mud, and I always try to put my complaints into context. But boy, this time I struggled.

The Good:

Harry von Zell made me smile. He had a small role, but he was really good! He’s the Carnation Evaporated Milk pitchman for The Burns and Allen Show, and I always find him so likeable. Next to Betty Furness, he’s probably my favorite pitchman. He is extremely natural on camera.

Jane Russell. She’s insanely gorgeous and her curves are to die for. She looked great in her black bandit outfit especially. Unfortunately there’s wasn’t much she was able to do in the movie besides look good. Her character was just supposed to be eye candy essentially.

There were fun cameos by Bing Crosby and Cecil B. DeMille. They were each less than 30 seconds long, but they were cute.

The Bad:

Bob Hope. I just don’t find a lot of his humor that funny. Most of his gags in the film didn’t even make me chuckle. I hate how he treats women- as things for men to drool over and little else. I know he was a notorious philanderer, constantly cheating on his wife, and you just get that vibe from him. His USO shows can be really hard to listen to, because between him and the soldiers, the cat-calls and whistles never stop.

The story and plot were really thin. I think if I had seen and enjoyed The Paleface, I might have gotten more out of it, though.

Women were really objectified in this. When the opening credits says “8 Beautiful Girlies (Count ‘Em)” you kind of know what you’re in for. There wasn’t even any real hint of romance, it was all about sex, basically. There’s a long scene that’s just supposed to be funny where Hope is trying to look through a keyhole as Russell is taking a bath on the other side of the door. He continually makes suggestive comments. This kind of thing got really grating.

When a relatively central character was suddenly murdered, the movie barely blinked. I liked the character, so it was upsetting that they killed him off, but even more upsetting that it seemed to be only a plot device.

How Native Americans were portrayed. I’m used to the way Hollywood portrays “Indians,” but this was nearly impossible to watch. They were so dehumanized, they could have been animals. By the 1950s, some films were at least trying to be more even-handed with Native Americans, but this one made not even the slightest attempt. Throughout the whole film a group of Indians who hated Junior’s father chase him down, trying to kill him. For some reason they only have bows and arrows and dress in war paint on horses, even though the film takes place in at least the 1910s or 20s. Some of the ‘Indians” were clearly white people in brownface, and they all talked in that horrible stereotypical broken English. They were shown as crazed, whooping, homicidal primitives. (Except for the girls, who were sexualized, of course!) At the climax of the film, we literally watch more than a dozen of them die, and we’re meant to cheer as Hope and the gang mow them all down.

A “gag” at the end happens when an “Indian” is shooting an arrow at Hope, but it ricochets back and kills him instead. That’s funny how?

When I thought I had my fill of all of the above, Bob Hope literally made a “reservation” joke to a Native American guy. Twice. Like, the word “reservation” was the punchline. I almost literally lost my mind.

#project1952 #1952 #project1952 day 43 #100 films of 1952

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27timescinema · 8 months

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MASTERCLASS – JOAO PEDRO RODRIGUES

By Joonas Lass (EE) // Photos © Klaas Mertens (BE)

After meeting with MEPs on September 2, it was time for a masterclass session with director Joao Pedro Rodrigues, who also happens to be the head of the jury of Giornate degli Autori this year.

Starting off with an inquiry about the jury, Rodrigues expresses his initial positive emotions about the first jury meeting and feels it’s going fine for now. Soon enough, we get into his history as a filmmaker.

He mentions he has always been interested in paintings and observing his surroundings, first finding his roots in going to the forest and watching birds with the binoculars his father gave him at age 8. Paintings have been a learning point for him in the sense of being able to tell a story with just one image. As both his parents have worked in science, he tried studying biology but soon enough understood that wasn’t it and corrected his course to film school, studying under Portuguese New Wave filmmakers. With the Portuguese New Wave being quite a radical bunch, Joao Pedro himself feels pride in his experimental attitude towards every new movie he makes, trying to incorporate something he hasn’t tried yet into every new feature, saying ‘In order to make new stuff, you have to know the past’. He brings up a great example of using drones (which he usually hates) to film a literal bird's-eye view for one of his films.

I was also glad to hear of Mon Oncle (Jacques Tati, 1958) as one of his inspirations because it focusses more on visual comedy and steers away from dialogue as much as possible. Jacques Tati is definitely a visionary in that sense, and I was very glad to hear someone such as Joao Pedro shares my love for that particular film.

Rodrigues goes on to talk about his first film, which the press was supposedly really harsh on. He concludes that he couldn’t make his first film today due to increasing morality over the years in the film industry. Relating to that is definitely nudity and sex, which have always been a part of his films. He feels that using nudity is necessary due to the lack of sex in cinema, since it’s such a natural part of our lives as human beings. When asked about his struggles, he seems quite clear on the fact that he never knows what’s going to come next in terms of features. Recently, though, he has started to try to narrow the usual 4-year gap between his films and think ahead.

Certainly one of the most engaging parts of the talk was Rodrigues’ story about going to the first queer film festival in Kyiv and having his film screened there – recognizing the still-rampant homophobia present in the Eastern European region which I am fairly familiar with, being from Estonia. Since the war is still actively on in Ukraine, Rodrigues’ obtained the experience of an air raid occurring during the screening of his film. The surprising part was that the film was nicely played out to the end with the air raid going on, since there was about five minutes left. That definitely created an unmistakable aura in the room for a moment – no one else in the room has probably experienced anything like this. He goes on to mention another air raid that took place a couple of days later, a Russian missile getting intercepted but still sadly killing 3 people and injuring many more.

Moving on to the Q&A part of the masterclass, there were a lot of interesting questions popping up in the room. My personal favourite was about small screens taking over priority over cinema screens, because Rodrigues had a very clear and concise answer (which also seems fitting to end this blog with): 'A good film will resist the modern small screen'.

#venezia80 #masterclasses #gda

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dzpenumbra · 9 months

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8/17/23

I'm fucking exhausted so I'm going to try to keep this short.

My upstairs neighbor was thumping around every 10 minutes until 4 AM last night. I actually got to bed at a reasonable time and my bed was literally shaking. I have no fucking clue what they were doing, it was just like one or two thumps at a time so it wasn't even walking around but it was loud, like... sounded like someone was moving furniture. Steadily from midnight until 4. It might've continued past then, that's when I managed to fall asleep. I was fucking livid. But more just like... in physical shock from being jolted awake that many times in a row.

I still sleep with my staff in my bed. It makes me feel safe. You have no idea how tempting it is to take that thing and just bang on the ceiling (their floorboards) really loud. But honestly, I don't want confrontation, I don't want hostility, I don't want a war. I just want peace. In all senses of the word.

My back was hurting a bit this morning. I think it's because of sitting and doing art for hours on end. Speaking of... I just finished the celtic knot on my pants. The right leg one, at least... Just in time, the pants are getting mighty stinky since I've been wearing them skating for multi-hour sessions three consecutive days in a row, where I ended up pouring sweat. My plan is to wait until tomorrow night to give the paint time to dry, heat set the paint with an iron, then... maybe hand-wash them? Maybe just run them in the washing machine with other clothes? I don't know. I'm scared to put them in the wash, I haven't done that yet with this paint. I'm sure it'll be okay, but... I mean... I just sank over 6 hours into these pants this week. It'd be frustrating to lose it all immediately. But that's a problem for another day.

I did yoga focusing on my back, because my back was aching. It helped a lot. I ate breakfast, played some Elden Ring, then decided to go skating. Before I went... I sent a message to the Assistant Manager of the building. She's the woman who has been very friendly and kinda flirty with me. I wrote her about the neighbor. I fucking just finally got over it and did it, just like trying a new skate trick. I just wrote up what was going on - that I'm new to apartment living so I don't know how to handle this, how this wasn't a problem at all during the winter, how it only really happens a few days a week, and how last night was so loud and constant that I was genuinely concerned someone might've been having a medical emergency or something. It was deeply unsettling. I didn't put in any part about PTSD or anything, which is good progress for my fawning response. In fact, I didn't really feel any anxiety about writing that email, which was good. So I kinda just asked her... how the building usually handles things like this, whether I should go up and... guess(?) what apartment is above me? Should I leave a note? Does the apartment help mediate things like this since they have a "quiet living" clause in the lease, kinda similar to "quiet hours" in a college dorm? I figured the best way to figure this out once and for all was just to fucking ask. And I decided to ask the chick that I think has a thing for me rather than the head Manager, because... I don't want the Manager to feel like I'm wasting her time with a noise complaint. And I want the Assistant Manager to feel like I value her opinion, something Assistants don't often feel. We'll see how it turns out.

It's been a long time since I've done the whole "fire and forget" method with emails. I've gotten in that habit with this journal really well, but writing directly to someone is just a different animal.

Skating was good today. There was just one other person at the park. It had been raining through the night and a bit of the day, so the park was pretty wet... but I was able to work on some stuff. I tried ollie-to-manual on the A-frame box and got it one time. The other guy landed switch flip and switch front shove, which was very impressive. We both exchanged knowing smiles and cheers of encouragement, despite both of us having headphones in. It was a really nice vibe of kinship. Like... there wasn't pressure to talk or interact even though we were the only ones there. And we still interacted.

There is really nothing like the smile on someone's face when they land a trick they've been battling. Good lord. It's very similar to beating a boss in Elden Ring for the first time. I fucking love that about skating. It does get sweaty sometimes and people do like to compare and play skate and compete against each other and shit. And to each their own. But man, I love that people can really just get out of their own experience, and watch someone land their first boardslide after battling it for like an hour, and cheer as though someone just did something insane. Because they know how big every accomplishment is. And I love being someone at the park who helps project my warm emotions to help amplify their experience of accomplishment. To celebrate with them. You can say all day that kinship is about pushing people to go further, shit like that... I prefer the act of sharing in celebration of their accomplishments. Even just showing up to the damn park is an accomplishment worth celebrating.

That said, I was a bit shy today. Not with the ollie-to-manual or trying to boardslide the parking blocks again... but with the shove it. My shove its look infantile, and I'm very aware of it. And yeah, that's me comparing. In time, I'll get over that. I am where I am. Once the other guy left, with a smile and a wave, I started working on shove its. I had the whole park to myself. And... the fear was back. I couldn't make myself jump forward. It's so silly! Like... okay, this is how fucking irrational the fear is.

My fear is that I'm going to land too far on the back of the board and slip out backwards. Or... my balance won't be right and the board will go shooting out forward and I Looney Tunes my feet out from under me and fall flat on my back or smack my head. That's my fear. It's like a stereotypical banana peel fear. Now... here's the physics of a shove it. I pop the board with my back foot and scoop the tail backwards so that the board rotates horizontally 180 degrees, I hop and land back on the board over the truck bolts (ideally). Here are the physics of ollie-to-manual. I pop the board straight up, land with most of my weight on my back foot, riding on the back two wheels, and hold the board in manual until I get to the end of the box, then gently pop off. Which one of those two sounds like it's going to put me on my back? Yeah, seriously, the manual is so much more likely to toss me on my ass in exactly the way I'm fearing the shove it. But... I'm not scared of the ollie-to-manual that way at all. Figure that shit out.

It took a few tries but I got there. I landed quite a few shove its, over 10. I tried to do them moving faster and faster. Carrying speed with tricks is the real test. You can shove it on flat all day, but that doesn't mean you can land it moving or land it off something. And yeah, it was spooky, but I made progress and landed a bunch.

Ugh, a mosquito got into my apartment and bit my arm, it's all itchy now. :( We really got a bumper crop of bugs this year, all the rain and flooding and shit, it's been an absolute nightmare. When I rode home I was really glad I brought my sunglasses, because I rode through several clouds of swarming bugs and they just like... pelted off my face. It was gnarly. Some women out walking their dogs stopped me and asked me about the bugs after, I looked back and saw the gigantic cloud of them I just rode through, that I was completely unaware of because the light wasn't illuminating them from the direction I was going. It's nice to just... have normal human conversations with people. And nice to be treated as a human and a peer by neighbors. Skaters have gotten a lot of prejudice over the years, but this woman seemed totally fine talking to a guy wearing all black with a metal band t-shirt riding a skateboard with aviators on. And it was much appreciated. But I was wiped and headed out.

Yeah, so that was my day. Didn't land any new tricks, but I'll say this much... if I get my boneless 360 back, and learn how to consistently shove it? I will be at my best skating ability ever. I will have eclipsed my ability in my prime, in college. That's such a crazy thought. 10 years off the board, and I'm already getting better than I was back then. Because now? I have new tactics. I don't just avoid tricks that are scary. I have developed an override switch for scary tricks that I didn't have back then. I would just say "I can't do that", and just do different tricks. Now? Now I try.

The fucking neighbor stomped again. ... -_- I sent the email at like 5PM so I didn't expect a response today, but like... Okay, let me just explain my thoughts here. Say I apply for the teaching job. Say I get the teaching job, and I have to teach a class at 10AM 2 days a week. I really need my sleep schedule to sync with that, I need to be up at... I'd say around 8 or 9? So I can do yoga and shower and eat before class. So... for 8 hours of sleep, I need to be in bed at 12. It's fucking 1:45 right now and asshat upstairs sounds like Jack Torrance slamming the fucking tennis ball against the wall. I will not be able to sleep like that. And when I don't get sleep, my mental health immediately goes to shit. I get super anxious, I get depressed, I get irritable, and my trauma responses are like a hair trigger. It is the primary reason why this summer has been so difficult. So... if I get that job... I better be able to protect my sleep. Because if I get that job, it's gonna be hard enough just getting to sleep normally with how anxious I'll be, how scary it's going to be, and how intense it's going to be for my mental health to be the focal point of an entire classroom... Doing that on half a night's sleep? I'm genuinely afraid I'm just going to just straight up have a panic attack and have to excuse myself. Or just fucking lose the job.

Yeah, maybe I'm paranoid. But I think it's important to calculate that. And this is a known variable, lack of sleep clearly amplifies the fuck out of my anxiety, panic and trauma responses. I just don't need it. And for what? So some asshole in the apartment above me can stomp around at 2-4 AM as though they live in a barn or some shit? I put in the email that I didn't think this was malicious, and I mean that shit. I think these people are fucking stupid. I think they're oblivious and stupid. It just does not occur to them at all that they live in proximity to other people. Like a fucking object permanence thing. Like the second other people disappear out of their sight, their neighbors just don't exist. They live on the top floor of a 3 story building. And they wear shoes inside. And they do not walk with care at 2AM. Which is so fucking foreign to me.

But yeah, this shit needs to stop. If it was a weekend, I'd give a bit more leeway, but this shit happened on a motherfucking Tuesday and Wednesday night. Give me a fucking break, man. Bro is stomping around at 4AM on a Wednesday morning directly above someone's bedroom. At this hour? I fucking tiptoe around my apartment. And I'm always either barefoot or in socks, at all times.

They say "were you raised in a barn", but honestly? I have never in my life heard as much fucking domestic noise as I have apartment buildings in urban areas. People just straight up let their front doors slam behind them. Regularly. It's fucking mind-blowing. Not only is it loud as fuck and super inconsiderate of your neighbors, it's really not good for the doorframe, and that shit doesn't belong to you! Shit is so fucking strange to me, like creatures raised on another planet. But hell, maybe I am the weird one. All polite and mindful and quiet and shit.

Alright, I've got to get to bed. Fingers crossed this week's grocery guy isn't as bad as last week's, good lord...

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness

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marvelandimagine · 3 years

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I think some people mad about the arm is not necessarily about the fact that Ayo disabling the arm itself, it's more of the fact that it was not necessary and the fact that Bucky had no idea they can do that. If I were to be honest, I think it was not that necessary because Ayo is well capable of taking him down without having to disarm him and she is definitely not threatened by him. I think what some people find upsetting about that scene is the fact that it kinda comes off as Ayo putting Bucky in a position where it would make him feel like he doesn't have full control of his own body after all. The Wakandans, especially Ayo, T'Challa and Shuri had every right to feel betrayed and upset but the point is they should have told Bucky about how the arm can easily be disabled like that, they didn't know Bucky was going to set Zemo free when they gave him the arm and regardless of the things they have done for him and if they were ones who gave him the arm, they should have at least told him about it, because it's connected to him, it's a part of HIS body. It doesn't matter if it was necessary to disarm him or not, the point is they should have told him about it because apart from the fact that it's his body and that it was a bit insensitive given his history, it's also a point of vulnerability, and the fact that she did it in front of Walker (and possibly Zemo) --- people who can easily turn on Bucky, could easily that to their advantage and attempt to disable it themselves. Just my thoughts on it.

Thank you for sharing your perspective, anon!

I’m going to use this long-ass reply to address this stuff with Ayo and also voice some thoughts I’ve had over the past few weeks seeing people paint Bucky into being this complete soft and harmless human that needs 25-7 protection which I don’t jive with — and this is me, a complete Bucky stan.

Many moons ago, I saw a post that compared 1940s Bucky moving with stealth and a loaded gun on the train to the Winter Soldier doing the same thing, essentially discussing the similarities and debating how much of non-brainwashed Bucky was in the Soldier. And I think the fandom forgets or chooses to neglect the following when painting him as this fragile, peace-loving guy:

Bucky was an incredibly skilled sniper in the United States Army. His job is to eliminate threats in the most efficient way possible, and he’s good at it. HYDRA gets their hands on him and + the serum, this gets magnified. It wasn’t like HYDRA turned him into someone with the ability and mental capacity to kill — that was already there. The brainwashing and torture just carved out the rest of him to leave those honed skills and an amplified ruthlessness with no moral issues, no sense of self to contend with. That ruthlessness is part of Bucky, whether people like it or not.

When Bucky is outside of HYDRA for the first time and hiding in Civil War and gets attacked, he’s so brutal in his actions that Steve Rogers, the man who literally was ready to die to save Bucky and free him when no one else believed in the good in him, intervenes because “Buck, you’re going to kill someone.” Bucky responds that he’s not going to kill anyone, but the fact remains: with or without HYDRA control, Bucky has a strong capacity for violence that hovers on brutality — again, what’s the most efficient way to eliminate or neutralize a threat? Like, I don’t want to kill you, but I’ll knock your ass out with cinder blocks to the chest.

Bucky has a good heart, he’s loyal, he’s smart, he’s caring, he’s the longest-standing POW in history and was turned into a slave for decades, put through unimaginable trauma and torture and horror with no escape. Bucky is also a strong and incredibly skilled super soldier who has a bionic arm, is a trained sniper, is unnervingly precise with knives, and self-describes himself as “semi-stable.” Zemo notes in the bar that “it didn’t take Bucky long to get back into form,” and he’s right because the ruthlessness and skill of the Winter Soldier is a part of him and always has been. We see it when he has his hand around Zemo’s neck and tells him he will kill him, when he rips the glass from his hand and throws it across the room.

And I’m sure the Wakandans know all this about Bucky, this light and his ability for hard-to-stop violence, whether from talking to Steve and Bucky or doing their own homework. And they still choose to help him out of the goodness of their hearts because he’s been put through hell and they believe they have the capacity to help him and it’s the right thing to do — they’re betting more on those positive attributes. And they put a failsafe on his arm, a literal weapon, and chose not to tell him. You know why I think that shows how much they did care about him? Because they could’ve blatantly come out and said “Hey, we don’t trust you,” and hurt him outright, but they didn’t because they’re betting on the light in Bucky to outweigh the dark or any future manipulation. That it’s a worst-case scenario function they hope to never have to use — so they’re prepared if shit hits the fan, and if it doesn’t, Bucky doesn’t have to be hurt feeling like he can’t be trusted. I see no issues here, they’re just being cautious.

Now coming to Ayo, my QUEEN Ayo. From that beautiful, beautiful opening scene, we get to see her support, her reassurance, her belief that Bucky will be able to work through this, even when he doesn’t believe it himself. She watches him fight and struggle and cry, and you can feel the hope in her and how moved she is when she gets to tell him it worked, he did it — he’s free. And she says it not once, but twice. And you can hear not just the comfort, but the PRIDE and warmth in her voice directed to him, who I’m sure she’s watched throughout the whole deprogramming process and gotten to know and is happy to see him work through the pain and come out on the other side.

And then she sees that same individual make a decision in freeing Zemo that she perceives as a “fuck you” not just to her country, but to her, someone who was charged with protecting her king. She could’ve just disarmed Bucky the second they met up, but she doesn’t. She takes the time to explain her side and her feelings, her guilt and her shame, and basically implies that she feels betrayed by Bucky because Wakanda helped him and now he’s doing something that’s hurting her country. And still, she doesn’t attack or just go get Zemo. She gives Bucky the benefit of the doubt and a whole 8-hour American workday to do what he has to do because again, she believes in the best of him. And then that time limit runs up, and he chooses to get in her way.

And that’s the final straw. She’s angry, she’s guilty, she’s frustrated, and she feels betrayed hurt by someone I think she did respect and care about, someone whom she worked with and helped and supported when he was his most vulnerable. Did she “need” to disarm the arm to fight Bucky? Probably not. But is she doing it in the heat of battle and adrenaline and a whole bucket ton of emotions, including what she sees as the White Wolf blatantly disrespecting her country and her as a person and even friend and she just says fuck it, I’m done? You hurt us and me, and I’m going to hurt you back? Oh yeah. And Bucky looks shocked, not because he’s a poor fragile baby and “oh no, my arm, how could you?? my TrAumA”, but in the dual realization of “oh shit, how’d you do that?!” and “oh shit, I think I crossed a line here.” And also, I don’t think a single person in that room would be able to recreate the disabling sequence other than Ayo — it’s way too targeted and specific for someone like Walker to pick it up in the whole three seconds it took.

People need to stop reducing characters to these black and white extremes of soft and hard, of good and bad. Doing so completely devalues and ignores the REALITY of the complexity of being human, and Bucky and Ayo are both great examples of that played by stellar actors who portray that range and depth extremely well. End of the day, my thought is that the failsafe in the arm was justified and people need to stop coming for Ayo based on this ridiculous narrative that Bucky is too traumatized and sensitive and too much of a fave to ever be challenged or he’ll explode into dust. Boy deserves a life of freedom and healing and mental health support, but he’s also still a formidable opponent with the capacity for violence and skillset to kill. People are more than one thing.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk!!

#Bucky barnes #winter soldier #falcon and winter soldier #falcon and the winter solider spoilers #faws spoilers #faws #james bucky barnes #marvel #dora milaje #wakanda #Ayo #Steve Rogers #falcon and winter soldier spoilers #marvel fandom #I really went off on this one huh #fatws #fatws bucky #fatws ep 4 #fatws spoilers

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ystrike1 · 2 years

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The Tyrant Husband has Changed (8/10)

(I wish clumsy yanderes were more popular.)

Duke Khalid and his new wife, Idris, both had bad childhoods. Khalid was raised as a soldier, because of his red eyes. Children born with red eyes are more physically powerful, and they have magic. It's like being born with an instant stat buff, but it's not entirely a good thing. Khalid has been used as a weapon since his birth. His family intends to marry him off in order to create more convenient red-eyed weapons. He is a powerful man, but he trusts no one. Countless assassins have tried to kill him, and everybody fears him for good reason. He does know (dark) magic, and he's not a merciful man. He was emotionless and eager to kill as a kid too. He's not a misunderstood sad boy. He really is a killer.

Idris is the bastard daughter of a Duke. Her lowborn status is kept a secret, so she can be married off. When she marries Khalid she tries her best to be a good wife. She brings him herbal tea and tries to get along with him. He doesn't trust her, and she doesn't trust him, so their relationship becomes strained. Developing romantic feelings for someone is tough when you're traumatized by years of abuse.

Totally understandable!

Unfortunately that misunderstanding leads to a tragedy.

Idris has no friends. Her only ally is her maid, Lily. She's deathly afraid of being abused by her cold husband, because her birth family hates her. Her half brother, Keith, pushed her around in the dressing room while she was trying to get ready for her wedding. Her father treats her like a dog too, but she never fought back. She couldn't. In the end she is just the daughter of a servant that caught her father's eye.

Khalid does fall in love with her. She's the only person that speaks to him normally. She's not terrified of him, because her own family treated her alot worse. He watches over her, but he stops visiting her. They drift apart and basically become roomates. Tragedy strikes hard when Idris is assassinated.

Khalid turns back time and promises to be a better husband. He's very earnest, and he puts in alot of effort. She eventually realizes that time turned back, and understandably freaks out a little, but the couple gets along great. Idris is a little more confident this time. Khalid is alot more affectionate. They both like eachother, and they don't live with abusive family members anymore.

Good for them.

Khalid sends her black roses, and plants a rose garden for her. They are a symbol of eternal love and possessiveness. (Basically he painted a giant sign that says "Idris is mine" on his lawn) He uses his second chance to spoil her properly.

He spends money every day like it's nothing, and when he confesses he promises to give her the world.

He says he'll start a war and make her the Empress if that's what she wants, but the current Emperor is a decent guy. Idris isn't interested in power either. She just wants to be happy with her (overly) loving husband.

She tells him to stop talking about war and just be by her side. The misunderstandings that damaged their first relationship do make some sense. Idris thought she had to hide the fact that she was a bastard child. Khalid thought he was too monstrous to be loved. Seeing them enjoy their second chance is pretty sweet.

Khalid is an awesome husband. He helps Iris save her mom and he destroys her corrupt family. She slaps her nasty brother, Keith, and turns them all into peasants. She knows them well. Losing their status and wealth will hurt more than death.

A second yandere does appear, but he's a toxic villian and I'm %100 sure he'll lose. Khalid is too overpowered. His literal only weakness is Idris. That makes the plot slightly bland, but the main couple is very cute. The yandere villian is the more extreme yandere of the two, but he's absolutely no match for Khalid.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #recommendations #yandere boy #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon

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l0vegl0wsinthedark · 4 years

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Sparkle

Here's a little ficlet I wrote based on a random scene that popped into my head and wouldn't leave. Unbeta’ed.

Tags: implied/attempted noncon, alcohol consumption, eighth year fic. Pairing: Draco/Harry

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Draco Malfoy came back to Hogwarts after the War.

He was quiet and was nearly always seen in the company of his books. He talked to people, but not unless they addressed him first. He was always in plain sight, and always seemed to be in the middle of the most banal, tedious tasks, and Harry had no reason to be suspicious.

But Harry watched him anyway.

How was he to help it? Malfoy didn't look anything like the Malfoy he was used to warching.

Yes, he was still deathly pale and tall and reed-thin - but he held himself differently now. He didn't swagger around like he owned the school, but still had an air of aristocratic grace about him that made people hurry out of his way.

He didn't wear his hair combed to slick perfection; he had it buzzed down to the scalp on one side, the rest of his sleek, platinum hair pulled over to the other side in an artfully tousled sweep that sometimes fell over his eyes and caught on his long lashes.

He didn't wear his shirt sleeves down to his wrists to hide the Mark. Instead he had them rolled up to his elbows to reveal the pretty little pink and orange blossoms he had tattooed over the ugly, faded skull and snake.

He always had nail paint on - black, green, ruby red, purple.

He wore eyeliner, stark black against the paper-white skin of his translucent eyelids and blond eyelashes.

During the weekends, he wore soft jumpers over crisp white shirts, often in pastel shades that made him appear delicate and almost ethereal.

Draco Malfoy came back to Hogwarts after the War and Harry was obsessed all over again.

It was Christmas in a week. The eighth year common room was in full tumult, the Wireless charmed to blare music loud enough to be heard clearly over the cacophony of dozens of chattering students. Decorated extravagantly by the elves, two tables groaning under food and drink (spiked with an indecent amount of alcohol), and housing every eighth year, over half of the seventh years and a few bold sixth years, the room threatened to burst at the seams.

Harry was pleasantly tipsy, which was very mild compared to the state of some of his classmates. At least he wasn't trying to climb up into the mantel to attempt to jump off of it and land on an overstuffed armchair that was twelve feet away.

He really had to pee, though, and both the toilets attached to the common room were occupied, and when he went up to the dorm bathrooms, he found those occupied too - as well as issuing sounds made by the students inside engaged in various kinds of 'activities'.

Bladder uncomfortably full, Harry jogged back down to the common room and, with a wave at Ron and Hermione, exited the party so he could use one of the school loos. His mind was buzzing very softly and he wasn't worried about homework or, you know, dying, for the first time in a while.

Sighing in relief after having taken a long piss, Harry strolled slowly back towards the common room. It was well past midnight and he knew the seventh and sixth years would be in trouble if caught at the party. He also knew that every teacher was likely aware and chose to let it go. It'd been that way this term after the War.

He was about to pause and take a moment to admire the snow covered grounds and Forest out the nearest window when he heard a sound from the classroom in front of him. There was a soft thud and a garbled human voice.

Frowning, he crossed the corridor and halted outside the classroom, hesitant to walk in on students who likely didn't want to be disturbed. But then he heard, clearly:

"Stop. No."

"Incarcerous."

"No, no, no, I don't want--"

But Harry had already drawn his wand and kicked open the door.

He vaguely recognised the seventh year, tall and slightly plump with a mop of sandy blond hair. He was struggling to contain the thrashing student he had bent over a desk and looked around with a jump, panting softly, when Harry burst in.

"What the f--?" the seventh year began.

"Get out," barked Harry, indicating to the door pointedly with his wand.

The seventh year stepped away and the student he'd been pinning fell to the floor with a thump, his wrists bound at the small of his back, his ankles tied together with the same gleaming, silvery rope. And then Harry started in shock, because-

"Please," panted Malfoy, writhing on the floor as he tried to free himself.

"Go," Harry said in a low, dangerous voice to the seventh year, and there must have been something in his voice or face because the student quite literally pelted out of the room. Harry heard him running all the way down the corridor.

Harry walked forward slowly. "Malfoy?"

Malfoy thrashed again, out of breath and emitting little sounds of desperation. "Pl-- Just let me go!"

Harry quickly bent down and undid the ropes with a wave of his wand. Then he helped Malfoy sit up and lean back against the desk, still panting.

His face was clammy and his eyes bloodshot, eyeliner smudged, his face abnormally pale, likely with fear.

He was also clearly very, very drunk.

Harry suddenly remembered seeing him at the party earlier, flitting back and forth to and from the table of refreshments. And then he'd disappeared altogether.

Apparently, not with his consent.

"You okay?" Harry asked, hesitantly placing a hand on Malfoy's shoulder.

"I don't want to!" Malfoy declared, jerking off his hand.

Harry immediately held both hands up and away. "Okay, absolutely, yes," he babbled. "I'm not gonna-- nobody's gonna..." He didn't know what to say so he left it unsaid.

Malfoy just sat there, still panting quietly, eyes unfocused and rolling around a bit.

"Do... Do you need to be sick? Do you...need to use the bathroom?" Harry asked after long stretch of silence. Malfoy shook his head, hair flopping into his face. There was some colour in his cheeks now, and when he reached up to messily tuck his hair behind his ear, Harry noticed he was wearing sparkly blue nail polish.

"Bed," Malfoy said suddenly, voice hoarse. Harry nodded and stood up. Malfoy looked up at him in bewilderment. "I don't want to," he repeated, slightly plaintively.

The way he looked in that moment, as though pleading for his life, helpless and incapacitated, Harry's chest tightened.

"Nobody is going to touch you," he promised in a low, steady voice. "I'm just going to see you up to your dorm room. Do you need help standing up or are you good?"

Malfoy looked up at him blankly and then looked away with a sigh, uncrossing his legs and making to stand up. "I need help," he mumbled after a beat.

Harry helped him up and then immediately stepped away. "Come on," he said softly, indicating to the door. "This way."

Despite having gone to bed only well after 3am after the party, Harry was up by 8. He found Ron awake with Hermione and the three of them went on a walk after breakfast. In the afternoon, Seamus invited them to a snowball fight with the others. After he'd changed out of his sopping clothes later, Harry found himself entrusted with the task of going down to the kitchens to bring up snacks for everybody.

One flight of stairs away from the Entrance Hall, Harry was stopped by a soft voice addressing him.

"Potter."

Harry turned. Sat on the nearest windowsill was Draco Malfoy.

Harry, for some reason, felt his face heat, and absurdly found himself worrying that Malfoy knew that Harry had spent all day thinking of him.

"Hey," Harry replied, nodding. "Alright?"

Malfoy nodded back, expression neutral. Suddenly, Harry wondered if Malfoy even remembered the events of the previous night.

"Where are you going?" Malfoy asked softly, and there was nothing threatening or malicious about the way he spoke.

"Down to the kitchen to nick food," Harry replied honestly, shoving his hands in his pockets. And then, after a moment of hesitation, "How are you...you know, how're you feeling?"

"I feel fine," said Malfoy, a small line appearing between his brows. "Any reason I wouldn't?"

Yeah, he doesn't remember, Harry decided. Then he wondered why he's talking to Harry at all.

"No," Harry said, mouth curving into a crooked smile. "Well, I guess I'd better-" He indicated to the stairs with his head.

Malfoy nodded and said nothing.

Harry was halfway down the stairs when, "Potter."

Harry turned. Malfoy stood at the top of the stairs.

"Yeah?"

"I-- I just--" Malfoy was very pink in the face. Harry thought him very pretty at that moment. "I'm really grateful for your help last night," Malfoy blurted.

Now Harry went pink. Oh, so you remember, he wants to shout hysterically.

"It was no problem, Malfoy," he said instead. "I'm glad I was there to help." Malfoy just looked blankly at him. "Hermione's always going on about consent," Harry blabbers suddenly. "And you know... You weren't... You didn't...consent."

Malfoy nodded, throat bobbing as he swallowed, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his baby blue jumper. "Well, thank you," he said after a few seconds of silently nodding.

"You're welcome."

They stared at one another. Harry was aware of the seconds stretching on and on but he couldn't look away from Malfoy's artfully styled hair and rosy cheeks and sparkly nails and carefully lined eyes.

Then with an awkward and atrociously stupid wave, Harry turned away.

"D'you want to go to Hogsmeade with me later?"

Harry turned, almost slipping off the step and tumbling down the stairs.

"What?" he spluttered at Malfoy who was now scarlet in the face.

"I... I asked if you--" Then Malfoy abruptly seemed to deflate. "Never mind, Potter. Sorry. And thanks again for last night."

Malfoy disappeared around the banister and Harry heard him climbing the stairs while he himself just stood there.

Then, as though jerked into motion by an electric shock, Harry flew back up the stairs.

"Malfoy!" he gasped as he rounded the banister. Malfoy turned, looking surprised. "I-- I'd love to," Harry said, sounding a bit winded.

"What?" Malfoy asked, tilting his head, glossy hair sliding over his eyes.

"Go to Hogsmeade with you," Harry explained. "I'll-- I'd love to go."

Malfoy went brick red but he smiled as he did so, a small, shy smile that made Harry's heart skip a beat.

"Okay," Malfoy nodded, "Six? I'll meet you in the common room," he added, pointing up the stairs with one finger.

Harry grinned. "Cool."

Malfoy grinned back. And then, just as Harry was about to go back down, "Hey, Potter?"

Harry looked back up. "Yeah?"

Malfoy, still scarlet in the face, seemed to be making a physical effort to gather courage. "You... You have my consent."

Speechless and almost faint, Harry just watched him hurry away. Consent for what, he wanted to bellow after him.

Then he decided he'd rather let Malfoy show him what later.

***

#tw noncon #harry being a saviour as always #soft draco #drarry #my writing

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