#Because he never saw the movie; that's then he peaced out to go heisting | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

musicallisto · 4 years ago

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hi love! congratulations on such a wonderful milestone! i’ve been following you for ages so this is almost as exciting for me haha

could i please get a 🍨 for the grishaverse/six of crows? (whichever you feel fits!) i’m straight female who is an istj, slytherin, and 6w5! i also took the grisha quiz and am apparently a alkemi (but would i truly want to be grisha? the jury is still out on that). im 5’7 with blonde hair, brown eyes, and glasses. i’m a sagittarius sun, pisces moon, and aquarius rising!

i’m pretty independent, and believe no friendship demands blind faith. i’m probably too selfish (which i don’t see as a bad thing, personally), and can be quick to anger.

HOWEVER! i’m not all angst. i’m introverted, shy, & frankly bad with emotions (both feeling and expressing), BUT i also love to laugh, and will not stop talking to you about things i like once we’re friends.

i love that first sip of coffee, the silence after it snows, and the stars on a clear night. i’ve had multiple concussions from sports (which tells you all you need to know about my self-preservation skills) but i will take a day in bed reading or watching various franchise movies over adventure most days. i also lovelovelove listening to music — specifically classical!

thank you so much in advance !! and take all the time you need, this is a fun celebration so i wouldn’t wanna stress you out :) congrats again!!

hi! here’s your vanilla milkshake! (also - please come off anon because first of all, you’ve been following me for a long time? my heart melts. but ALSO! you sound like the most amazing and fascinating person and i adore your personality.) i thought of going for a shadow and bone character to diversify a little bit - but who am i to resist the call of kaz brekker?

no words can express my excitement at being able to use an actual gif for Kaz.

we all know Kaz and we all know his emotional turmoil. expect the slowest of slow-burns; expect to even wonder if the candle is lit at all.

But it is, I promise. It is lit and it seeps into his heart in ways that he doesn’t understand, and frankly, that scare him a little.

He’s never been good at that whole falling thing. He’s more than content to sit above the rest, and leave the tumbling to Inej.

So when he has to face the music and understand that you’re not getting away, and neither are his growing fondness for you? He’s totally helpless. Serves him right for not learning how to fall sooner.

At first, he thought it was mere fascination that drew him to you. Sure, it takes a lot for him to be impressed... but even he has to admit that you are a lot. Not in the lot in the exuberant sense of all these merchants, but assured and strong in your mastery of your powers, and in your quiet competence.

You craft most of the poisons and antidotes the Dregs use, and are unafraid to yield them yourself; you don’t mind getting your hands dirty; you’re reliable, loyal, easy to trust, and, surprisingly to him, easy to befriend as well. Although he doesn’t make a big effort to befriend you anyway; but whenever he goes down to visit you in your clandestine lab, he ends up spending much more time than he originally planned talking to you.

It’s just so easy to forget the grime of the streets above in that peaceful laboratory, with the distant sound of violin and chemical solutions bubbling somewhere indistinct. And your total concentration, as you mix up the poisons and conjure the blasting powders with deadly precision, is a magnificent sight to see.

At first, Kaz is guilty of sending you on missions for him, or confining you to your lab. You don’t mind the work, and understand that it is where you are most useful, but quickly tell Kaz that you are not at his disposition whenever he wants to run his errands; that you are his equal, and that you work for the Dregs because someone must feed these poor children, not because you would blindly give up your life for him.

In other words: you owe him nothing, and you’re not his lackey. And he better understand that quickly, lest you leave and offer your services to a cause that will remember you for more than your craftsmanship.

It’s a wake-up call for him, surely; it’s when he realizes that you have an independent soul, that you know no ties nor bounds, that you are neither a Kerch nor a Ravkan nor a Shu, but truly a citizen of your own heart, and that there is nothing tying you to him except your good will.

And the idea that you might disappear from his life as quickly as you barged in is enough to paralyze him for a good second. But then he regains his composure.

And asks you to stay, please.

(Not for the poisons, not for the magic, not for the money, but for me, he almost adds, but he can’t get the words out, and doesn’t.)

From that point on, you go on missions with Kaz and the Dregs, and no longer for them, standing as tall as the other Crows.

And your relationship with Kaz grows seemingly a little stronger for it. He opens up a little more, sometimes slips in a little something that might even be considered a compliment.

The others have told him time and time again that you are a fun and happy person to be around, and he couldn’t believe them, because all he ever saw of you was the focused and precise Grisha synthesizing arsenic or negotiating contracts by his side. But as he opens up to you, and on the rare occasions you’re both at the Crow House, he listens to you excitedly tell a story to the others Dregs crowded around a greasy table, he understands what they mean.

You are fascinating.

It’s not the Alkemi in you, it’s not your deadly aim nor your rigor with your work... it’s you. It’s in the excitement in your voice when you talk about something you love, and the care you put in making space for Kaz in your busy schedule.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me?”

“I don’t want to see you when you boss me around. Otherwise, you’re not so terrible to spend time with.”

(Which, in your shared language of restriction and shiness, means “I appreciate you a lot and enjoy your company more than I let on”.)

It’s in your relaxed face when you listen to classical music... when you’re working late nights at the lab and start humming along to the piano on a beaten gramophone that Jesper, of all people, stole for you one day - a Romantic Fjerdan melody, nothing to do with the industrial rhythms of Ketterdam, and your feet begin swaying to the music without you noticing.

He just stopped by to bring you the list of what he’ll need to take care of the Ice Court guards... but he’s taken aback, on the doorstep, watching you enjoy the music like a careless ballet dancer. He’s never seen you quite so relaxed...

... maybe that’s when he falls for good.

And maybe you know he’s fallen for good when you stop by unannounced at his office at the Crow House to hand him the poisoned blades he’s asked for... and you find him listening to the exact same waltz you were playing when he arrived.

You never took Kaz for the classical music type - you do a double-take before he looks up at you, his face and lips even, but a glimmer of hope twinkling in his dark eyes.

“You wanted?”

“To see you.”

His brow perks up.

“However did I get so lucky?”

But he gestures for you to step in, to get closer to him, to fill his dull office with your heady scent, both poison ivy and white rose.

Maybe, under the right night sky, with the right alignment of stars, and after the right snowfall on a deserted plain, he will hear the same music again, and this time he will clumsily extend this hand.

Not to dance, not even for you to take. Just to hold it out for you. Just so you know he would go to any lengths to keep you safe.

But for now, you have a heist to plan.

800 follower sleepover CLOSED!

#anon #800sleepover #ship request #six of crows #kaz brekker #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker headcanons #six of crows headcanons

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

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I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Five: War

Author's note: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: just a smidge of angst, talking about feelings and a slightly steamy moment to look forward too.

Word count: 5,200>

Masterlist

Previous - Chapter Five - Next

When you returned back to Max’s home, the sky was pitch black. Max fumbled opening the front door, grunting in frustration when he couldn’t get the key in the hole because it was so dark. When the door finally swung open, he sauntered inside without saying a single word. You hovered behind him, following him around his home like a lost puppy. He strolled into the living room, walked over to the mini bar, and poured himself out a glass of honeyed whiskey. He contemplated taking the whole bottle upstairs to his office and using the alcohol to drown his sorrows away. The silence made him forget he had a guest. “Can I get you a drink?” he muttered, not even looking at you. His thumb grazed the expensive liquor label.

“I’m okay,” you denied quietly. Maxwell didn’t say a word, but he took a swing out the small crystalled tumbler. His eyes were still glossy from his tears and his blonde wavy hair poking up in random places. He was practically unrecognisable from the television infomercials, although you deemed it inappropriate to bring up his appearance right now. To you, he was still so handsome. You waited for him to say something, but a few minutes had passed and not a single word had escaped his soft lips. “Max, I think we need to talk.”

You had a lot of questions, and he had a lot to ask you. Maxwell poured out another glass of whiskey before turning around and leaning against the bar. “Yeah, I agree. Why did you read the letter?” He asked first through a shaky exhale. Clearly it had been preying on his mind. Inside that letter was information he wanted nobody to see. He didn’t even want to see it himself. But you… he actually cared about what you thought of him. He feared your judgement more than anything else.

“You’d really hurt yourself and I could see you were very angry. When I saw the letter crumpled up on the floor, I thought it might have something to do with it and I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” You explained your genuine concern, even noticing the way Maxwell’s face softened at your confession. Despite the fact you had invaded his privacy, he just couldn’t bring himself to stay mad at you. “I knew I was looking for a man named Lorenzano. If the letter hadn’t told me you were Lorenzano then I would never have gone to Thomas Family Lawyer’s.”

“I find it difficult to believe that you were worried about me,” Maxwell scoffed incredulously, rolling his eyes and taking yet another swing of his drink. The warmth your words had brought him were short lived and he was immediately engulfed in a cold, unwelcome chill.

“I was,” you reiterated. “I care about you a lot. You- you’re my friend. You gave me a home and you believed me when I told you about Themyscira and the God’s. Max… can I ask… why did you believe me?”

Maxwell hesitated for a few seconds, anxiously picking at his already short fingernails. He could lie. He could tell you that he only believed you when you demonstrated the lasso of Hestia on him, and that would be enough. But there was no time to be deceitful, not anymore. You’d been honest with him from the very beginning, and he owed his honesty to you too. For the sake of Alistair, he needed to be truthful. For the very first time, Maxwell was going to open up about what happened on the island when he made a broadcast to the entire world.

“Part of me already believed you when I saw you in the lobby of Black Gold for the first time. You were asleep on the sofa, covered in mud, in that crazy Amazonian costume thing…” he gestured to your tunic and skirt which was still discarded on the floor from when you had undressed earlier. He chuckled lightly at the memory of you. You were so beautiful and peaceful. He thought that when you awoke, it would be revealed to him that you were there to hurt him - just like everyone else in the world. “There was just something about you. When I saw you for the first time I just felt… I just felt like…” Max was struggling to get his words out. He couldn’t describe the feeling. For the first time, the well articulated and extroverted businessman was at a loss for words. All he knew was that every second he spent with you, this strange feeling grew stronger and stronger. “I just knew I could trust you,” he shrugged helplessly. That part was true at least. “It sounds dumb, I know. You’re a stranger. But I’m not a very trusting man in the first place, so feeling this was kind of a big deal. And then you mentioned Diana,” Bewilderment crossed your face as you wondered what exactly Diana had to do with any of this. “I knew a woman called Diana Prince. Worked at the Smithsonian museum,” Maxwell took a deep breath before saying your name. He took both of your hands and sat you down on the sofa. “I need to confess something.”

“What is it?” you asked with concern. You brushed your fingers over his knuckles and he relished the way your simple touches erupted a frenzy of butterflies in his stomach.

“I did a bad thing,” Maxwell told you, fear in his eyes. “And I’m still confused and… afraid. Look, I actually care about what you think of me so please-”

You placed a chaste kiss over Maxwell’s knuckles and Max swore his heart stopped beating. Your lips felt just as soft as they looked… just as soft as he’d imagined earlier in the shower. You didn’t know why you kissed his hands… you just felt like it. And it felt good. And you hoped that maybe one day you could do it again. Your eyes flicked up to meet his own. “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. I’m here to help you Max. I won’t judge you.” you promised.

“Okay,” he said with a deep sigh. “My company… I’ve worked my whole life building up Black Gold Cooperative. I really just wanted to do something great. Growing up, I never really had an idol or someone to look up to. And when Alistair was born, I wanted to give him the world. Anything he wanted. Because he was my son and most of all I just wanted him to be proud of his father. I was led along the wrong path by a few businessmen who were trying to sell off their investments in oilfields for cheap. So I bought them. Turns out, the oilfields were completely dried out and they weren’t going to earn any money whatsoever. I looked at the data and nothing suggested that was going to change but I couldn’t bear to give up. I didn’t want to look like a failure in front of Alistair… in front of my wife,” he croaked out, rubbing his temples as the stress consumed him. “So, I clung on to hope. And I never let go even when I probably should have. I led the world on with my infomercials, telling people that if they invested in us they’d own a part of the most lucrative oil industry in the world. And as share prices rocketed up, they’d eventually earn more than what they put in. That was the plan from day one. But the cold war meant that-”

“-Max,” you cut him off with a gentle whisper. “You’re putting yourself down for having hope. You shouldn’t- you shouldn’t do that. Having hope is the most important thing in the world.”

“I was deceitful,” Maxwell grumbled, shaking off your comment. “I found this stone that supposedly possessed magical powers. I’m a realist, I couldn’t believe it but I had to see for myself. It dated all the way back to ancient Rome… was a beautiful citrine. After a heist in the mall it was stolen and… let's just say I got my hands on the stone by means I’m not at all proud of. The stone possessed wish granting powers and I-”

Maxwell was rambling but at this point, he didn’t need to give you any more information. You already knew. Everything was making sense. From your dreams and your visions and now this.

“No.” was the only word you managed to breathe out. You shook your head profusely as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. It couldn’t be. You remembered your mother telling you that one of the stones was magically destroyed and no one knew how or why. But if Maxwell had wished to become the stone... “No no no… you didn’t, did you?”

Maxwell swallowed as he immediately sensed your disappointment in him. He nodded in silence, unable to say any more words. He felt nauseated. It was already so difficult to live with - the fact he had spiralled into mania so fast. At his core, he was a lonely man who had nobody to guide him. He thought he was in control the entire time but the truth is, he had lost control.

“Romulus possessed you,” you exhaled shakily, wiping your eyes. You let go off his hands and stood up, brushing yourself down. You nervously began to pace up and down the area of the living room. Maxwell closed his eyes, unable to let himself even look at you. He figured you were so disgusted in what he had done, you couldn’t even touch him anymore.

“Who?” Max questioned you eventually. He wanted the answers too.

“The God of Lies, Max!” you snapped back, not even realising how you’d raised your own voice but you were so stressed and paranoid. “Oh goodness… what if he’s still in you. What if-”

“I renounced my wish.” Maxwell informed you with not an ounce of emotion in his voice. He felt empty. Your head snapped to face him once more and your face softened at his revelation. You wanted to hold Max, cradle him in your arms and promise him that everything would be okay. That you’d be able to figure all this out together. But there was still so much you needed to know.

“Why?” you gasped in defeat, letting your shoulders slump.

“Diana.” Maxwell shrugged weakly, fumbling with the sleeves of his sweater.

“No,” you shook your head. “Why did you wish in the first place?”

“I was so afraid of Alistair thinking I’m a loser. Sometimes it’s so easy to believe the whole world is against me. I just wanted him to love me the way I love him.”

“Alistair has always loved you, Maxwell.” you told the teary eyed man, grabbing his arm and squeezing it. Max’s breathing hitched under your touch and he spent a few moments contemplating your words. No person had ever shown him such unconditional kindness. People were either intimidated by him, or enemies with him. No one had ever even wanted to be his friend. Even his relationship with Julianna was a whirlwind fueled on lust and her desire for his money. That’s why as soon as the oil fields dried up, the marriage broke down, and she’d gone on to find someone else with money - Theodore.

“Julianna messed with me, a lot. Told me that Alistair cared more for Ted than me, that I was nothing but a low-life. Since I found out Julianna was pregnant I was filled with this fear. I wasn’t scared of becoming a father, I was scared of becoming my father,” Maxwell choked out, making a fist as anger consumed him. He tried not to hate, he really did, but he could never ever forgive his father’s actions. You watched as his lips trembled and he looked down at his feet. “The world almost collapsed and it was all my fault,” he shuffled his feet around uncomfortably. “And I’m filled with this gut wrenching guilt I just can’t escape…” He looked up at you and wiped his eyes furiously. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No,” you said, moving his hand away from his face and wiping his tears away with your own fingers. “You are a beautiful man,” you whispered, cupping Maxwell’s face and stroking the height of his cheekbones. You saw him flush a gentle pink colour. “And Alistair is so lucky to have a father who would do all of this… just for him. You are loved. You are loved way more than you know.” you assured, and Maxwell found himself subconsciously leaning into your touch. He was so pretty you could just kiss him again. Maybe this time on the lips.

“How- how can you not hate me?” he choked out, taking you out of your thoughts about kissing him. “Even I hate me. I’ve been thinking, maybe I’m not good enough to be a father.”

“I know how it feels,” you admitted hesitantly, biting your lip. You’d never spoken about this to anyone before. “My father is Zeus, king of all Gods. My mother is Hestia, the Goddess of Truth. I know how it feels to be put on a pedestal. To be compared to others and I know how it feels to not feel good enough. Not important. To have no purpose…” you trailed off. “I’ve spent my life searching for some significance. Zeus had many children, most of which were never able to satisfy their duty as a God or Goddess. But when I started to have these dreams… when I heard your voice I knew in my heart that you… you are my purpose.” you took a deep breath and smiled. “But Max… the dreamstone…”

“What is it?” Max urged you, his dark eyes flicking to yours. “If you can help me with Alistair, let me help you with this. Whatever you need, I can help you.”

“I- I don’t know if you can.” you confessed with a sigh.

“What is it?” Max repeated, staring into your eyes.

“My mother told me the story of two brothers, Romulus and Dolos, both the God of Lies. They were evil… destructive. They wanted to watch society collapse and build a new world. A world they could rule together,” you explained and Maxwell winced. Maybe you were right. Romulus had possessed him… because all of this was sounding far too familiar to him. “When the brothers left Olympus, Zeus gifted them with two citrine stones. The brother’s practiced their wish-granting powers on the stones. Romulus created Rome and Dolos created Athens. And now, only one stone remains.”

“Dolos’ stone remains,” Maxwell said his thoughts out loud and you nodded in affirmation. “Because it was Romulus’ stone which possessed me. So how do we destroy Dolos’ stone?”

“My mother… my mother told me only one thing can destroy the stone.” you whispered. Maxwell looked at you with an urge for you to continue. “Love.” you revealed.

There was a deafening silence that filled the room. “I-I don’t understand,” Maxwell swallowed. “It was the truth that pushed me to renounce my wish. Truth is the opposite of lies… your mother is the Goddess of Truth so maybe-”

“She told me love would destroy the stone,” you repeated, putting your foot down. “There’s no question about it. She’s my mother and I trust her.”

“Okay okay,” Maxwell soothed you. “I trust her too. I just don’t understand how-”

“Me neither,” you exhaled, cutting him off. “But we’ll figure it out, right?”

“Right.” Max confirmed. “Are- are you tired?”

“A little.” you admitted.

“There’s five empty bedrooms upstairs. Take your pick. Make yourself at home.” Maxwell smiled wearily and you nodded your head in appreciation. He was so friendly with you. So generous.

“Thank you Max,” you whispered. “You know. I think you’re a good person.”

Maxwell swallowed. You were so softly spoken and you looked so gorgeous under the dim amber lights. If you were any other woman in any other circumstance, he’d press you against the wall and promise you a night you’d never forget. But he couldn’t do this to you. You were so innocent- and he could risk hurting such a delicate soul. “I’m going to tidy up down here first but uh- I’ll come say goodnight in a few minutes.”

You left the room and Maxwell stood alone for a few moments. As he tried to tidy up the mini bar, every single one of his thoughts were consumed by your beauty, your kindness… just you. And that’s when it hit him. Had he fallen in love with a goddess?

There was so much he didn't know about you— but if he could, he'd spend every waking moment with you, asking you questions about Themyscira and your family. He wanted to know what it was like over there, and if he could visit. He wanted to meet Hestia. He couldn't help but smile to himself. You were literally the daughter of Zeus— and you were in his home. If you had came into his life a week ago, he would've idolized you for your power, but now it was different. He genuinely liked you and wanted to be around you. It was crazy.

You walked down the long, wide corridor, not really caring too much about which bedroom you select. You had more important things on your mind— such as how you were going to find the dreamstone, and how you were going to destroy it. Maybe it didn't make sense right now, but you could only hope that the pieces of the puzzle would begin to fall into place sooner rather than later. The bedroom you had settled in was large, with an en-suite bathroom and a walk in closet. It was magnificent, but then again, it seemed as though every room in Maxwell Lord's home struck you with awe. The bed was enormous too, much bigger than the single one you had back on Themyscira. You wondered to yourself what the point was in having such an extensive sized bed, but you struck it down to comfort over anything else. And it certainly was comfortable. You kicked off your gladiator sandals and sat on the white sheets, sighing as the soft material silked around your bare legs. It was wonderful.

Taking the photograph from earlier out of your shirt pocket, you held it delicately between your fingers. Maxwell Lord, with dark brown hair and a smile that could break hearts, holding little baby Alistair. Every time you looked at the photo your heart felt like it was melting, but in the best way possible. You could practically feel the love radiating from the father and son.

You placed the photograph carefully on the nightstand and unbuttoned the pinstripe shirt that Max had loaned you. Folding it up, you placed it in his closet amongst his other clothes, deciding that's where it belonged. You climbed under the sheets, tangling your naked body amongst the blankets. It felt amazing. Your surroundings might have been unfamiliar, but you had never felt more at home.

Just then, the main light switched on, illuminating the whole bedroom. Max gasped when he saw you lying in his bed. "Oh- oh shit, hey!" he exclaimed awkwardly, his eyebrows raising. His expression was almost animatronic as he saw your shoulders and the top of your bare chest peek out from underneath the duvet. "So, you found a bedroom! Uh- that's good."

"Is everything okay?" you asked, sitting upwards and propping yourself against a pillow. "Is it because I'm naked?"

"No- I mean yes! I mean no! Everything is fine. And, I know you said you were used to sleeping naked before so, it's okay. I promise. I just- you see- this is actually my bedroom. And that's my bed. So…"

"Oh." you nodded slowly, feeling slightly embarrassed. It usually took a lot for Max Lord to get flustered the way he was, and that scared him.

"No! I mean, there's no way you could have known. It's fine. You can sleep here tonight. I'll take one of the other rooms." Maxwell smiled, reaching over to the light switch to turn it off again. "Good night."

"Max wait-" you called before he could leave. He looked at you but said nothing. "Do you think that you could stay with me tonight?" you asked hesitantly, shuffling around the blankets. "It's just… when I'm with you, I feel… safe."

Maxwell struggled to find words, so instead, he just nodded, and sat next to you on the edge of the bed. "When I'm with you I feel safe too," he confessed with a gulp and you smiled. "Although that's probably because you're some superhuman goddess. I suppose I also feel quite intimidated by you." he shrugged, a nervous blush flushing his cheeks.

Your gaze snapped to face him and you tilted your head in bewilderment. "Intimidated? You are intimidated by me?" you asked. "Why would you- why-? I don't understand. I mean, look at me." you scoffed incredulously, gesturing down to your body that was hidden by the thin white material of Maxwell's duvet.

"I am." he exhaled, his eyes not leaving yours once.

And there were the butterflies again. The feeling you just couldn't shake. Everyone he looked you in the eye… every time his voice got low and soft it just made you feel… you couldn't even put it into words. Maxwell rubbed his feet awkwardly along the carpet.

"You can come under the blankets with me?" you suggested after a brief silence. You pulled the duvet open and gestured for him to lay next to you.

"Oh I don't know," he shuffled around. "Here, in the world of man, people only really lay together if they're… well, together." Max explained.

"Aren't we together?" you shrugged your shoulders.

"Mm, not like that," Maxwell pursed his lips together. He wanted to lay with you— he really did, but he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. "People only lay together if they're… in love."

"Were you in love with Julianna?" you asked a little too quickly. Maxwell finally broke his gaze from you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that." you tried to retract but Maxwell shushed you.

"No, it's okay. The truth is… I don't know. I thought I was in love with her but… I'm not sure anymore." Maxwell sighed, running a finger through his hair. He wasn't sure because now he was having feelings for you and these feelings weren't anything like he had ever felt before.

"But you shared a bed with her?" you quizzed.

"Well, yeah. We were married."

"Have you shared a bed with anyone who you weren't married to?" you beckoned further.

Maxwell paused. "Of course."

"So please," you hummed, smoothing out the bed sheets. "Lay with me."

Maxwell smiled before taking off his shoes and climbing in next to you. "Have- have you ever shared a bed with a man before?" Maxwell asked, swallowing the hard lump in his throat. Just the thought of you being with another man made his head spin.

"No," you said quietly. "There are no men on Themyscira." you reminded him.

"Oh right yeah." Maxwell nodded understandingly.

You snuggled up close to him and laid your head on his chest. "You're warm," you mumbled happily. "It's nice."

Maxwell stretched out his arm and wrapped it around you. You and him were cuddling in bed. He wanted it to mean something, he really did, but he couldn't help but feel like it was platonic on your end. You smelled so amazing. And your body fit into his like a puzzle piece that had been missing his whole life. He could stay in this moment forever. And you were also more than content. Maxwell was broad, and his arms were strong. You felt safe laying with him, you felt like he could protect you from any danger. You trusted him. And he trusted you.

"So, am I the first man you met?" Maxwell asked you, clearing his throat.

"You are," you confirmed. You pulled the photograph of Maxwell and Alistair from the nightstand and showed it to your friend. "I found this earlier today. I like it a lot."

"Oh yeah, that was the day Alistair was born," Maxwell smiled. "I was happy that day."

"You're so lucky to be a father. I've always wanted children." you confessed, biting your lip.

"Well maybe one day you can have some of your own." Maxwell murmured, smoothing out your hair.

"I doubt it. Amazons can't bear children. Although, I suppose I could."

"What makes you different from the other Amazons?" Max beckoned.

"A lot, actually. They're all warrior queens. Fighters. But Zeus blessed me with the ability to carry children if I were to become a mortal, because I'm the Goddess of Home and Hearth. I reunite families. I'm maternal at heart. That's why he granted me that blessing, I suppose." you explained, trying your hardest to recall the words your mother had spoken to you when you were just a little girl.

"Only if you become a mortal? How would you even do that?" Maxwell anxiously slid his hand into yours, and his heart filled with joy when you intertwined your fingers with his.

"If I exposed my true self in front of a large crowd of people then I could no longer be a goddess. Zeus would take away my powers and I'd never be able to return to Themyscira. I'd be normal, just like you."

He wanted to laugh. There was nothing about Max Lord that could be considered ‘normal’— but he opted to let your comment slide. He knew what you meant anyway. "Would you consider giving up your powers and becoming a mortal?"

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I would do it for love." you turned to face Maxwell, to look him in the eyes, but he was already looking at you— memorising your beautiful face. Everything about you was so perfect.

"Love." he repeated, validating to himself that he was indeed listening and not completely entranced by your beauty. His voice had dropped an octave and was no louder than a mere whisper. His eyes flicked down to your lips and he had never felt an urge so strong in his life to just kiss you. He remembered how soft your lips were earlier in the night when they'd gently brushed over his knuckles.

And now, you were looking at his lips too. They were pink and plush and— you'd never even kissed anyone before, let alone a man who was attractive as Maxwell Lord. From what you had learned about him, he was already so esteemed and had probably kissed dozens of girls in his lifetime. You on the other hand, were quite inexperienced. But that didn't mean you didn't want to learn.

You could hear his beating heart as you felt his chest rise and fall. He made sure that no piece of stray hair was in your face. He wanted to take in every detail. With a sudden air of confidence, Maxwell leaned in and nudged his nose against yours. Naturally, your eyes fluttered shut as his warm breath fanned over your skin. His hand dropped down to your waist and he gave your hip a gentle squeeze under the covers as he tilted his head and pressed his lips against yours.

It was magical. His lips moved perfectly against yours, like they were made for each other. Max closed his eyes and pressed his face further into yours, even using his tongue to teasingly lick a stripe over your lower lip. You felt your cheeks flush as an involuntary moan escaped your lips. As your mouth parted, Maxwell seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth… and it felt delightful. You wrapped a leg around his and tangled your fingers in his hair as he kissed you. You prayed that this moment would never end. His lips were sweet and you imagined they tasted vaguely of the honeyed whiskey he had been drinking earlier. His hand glided down to your thigh and you eventually pulled away from him with a gasp. He removed his hand from you.

"Too much?" he asked breathlessly, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your swollen lips.

You moved his hand back to its position on your thigh. "No- no," you whispered, shaking your head but unable to contain your smile. "It's just, I've never done anything like this before. I've never been kissed like this… or even touched… I've never even… you know."

"It's okay," Maxwell whispered, cupping your face. "We don't have to do anything you want to do."

"I want this." you confirmed, pulling your body on top of his and straddling him. Maxwell felt his cock twitch in his pants as you accidentally grinded over him, leaning in and reattaching your lips. The blanket was still draped over your shoulders but fuck, you were naked. You were naked and on top of him and you were kissing him. Maxwell was still practically fully clothed and he didn't want to remove the blanket from you but he did contemplate taking his own sweater off.

"You feel so good on top of me like this," he muttered against your lips. "Can I touch you?"

You hummed in response and grinded your hips over him again. "Please."

Maxwell brought his hands down to your breasts and began to fondle with them as you kissed him. You moaned and giggled as his thumb grazed over your puckered nipples, squeezing them gently now and again.

The make-out session must have lasted a good half an hour, and Maxwell swore it was the best he'd ever had. If he wasn't sure about his feelings before, this was only confirmation. He'd grown deeply in love with you.

Taglists — let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat

I Believe In Love: @thebloodrobin @greatvaluedazzler @bxxbxy @marydjarin @the-feckless-wonder @typicalnerd98 @biharryjames @thwiso @pedrolorian @julieteagk @starsandmando @kishie8 @supernaturalcat7 @depressedchillipepper @galaxypox @cocastyle @welcometothepedroverse @galactic-rhi @honestlystop @walkerchick007 @winchesterxxl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @why-cant-i-hold-all-my-husbands @criminalmind1927 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @lola-max-sugar @thesadvampire @wonder-jedi @eternallyvenus @way-too-addicted-to-anime @spacedaddydinn @mack4676 @terrormonster55 @vonschweetz @tanyaherondale @thisis-theway @savannah-elliott @killalltherandomness @drinkingwhileblogging @pxstelink @meshlamando @honimello @jaa1682-27 @lesbianlena

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #max lord #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #ww84 #pedro pascal smut

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fyeahbatcat · 3 years ago

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Hello

Thoughts and opinions on Selina's bio family? I know we hardly hear about her mother, but she's had, like, 3 different father's across Prime Earth reboots. Do you have a favourite? Any feelings on Maggie?

Thanks x

I don't have any strong feeling about regarding Selina's family and I definitely do not have a favorite among her biological fathers. This post contains some spoilers from The Batman movie.

Let me start off with a disclaimer: as you may be aware I discontinued reading DC Comics back in 2018. I am basing my answer on all of my knowledge from the years previous to that so if new information in that aspect has been presented I am not aware. No; this is not an invitation to update or inform me on any new developments. I stopped reading for a reason. That said:

To my knowledge Selina has had two or three biological fathers in the modern comics: Brian Kyle, Carmine Falcone, and that guy from Batman Eternal whose name I don't remember and can't be bothered to look up.

Let's start with Carmine Falcone. The premise of When in Rome by Jeph Loeb was that Selina believed that Carmine Falcone may have been her biological father. This was left unanswered in the story and we never found out if this was true or not. The way I see it is that whether he was or wasn't is irrelevant. Carmine Falcone didn't raise her so he didn't have any impact on who she grew to be.

This was the inspiration for Selina Kyle's backstory in The Batman. In this case he did know that he fathered a child with Maria Kyle but didn't have a part in raising Selina, murdered her mother, and then allowed her to be dumped in the world's shittiest orphanage. He didn't even recognize her as his daughter when she became an adult.

As far as the comic books go in pre-flashpoint Brian Kyle was depicted as being the man who was the most involved as Selina's father. She did question her paternity at one point, but it was Brian who was present when she was a child. He is characterized as being a racist, alcoholic, domestic abuser who ended up drinking himself to death. His abuse of Selina's mother deeply affected her and made her very sensitive to domestic violence and violence against women. I can't remember what issue or even run this happened but once Selina was in midst of a heist when she saw a man start hitting another woman and it set her off. She said something to the effect of "My father used to beat my mother. I can't stand seeing a man hitting a woman." I'll update this post if it comes to me.

As for her New 52 father...well...we don't talk about Bruno. But what I can say is that her biological father did not raise her.

The main take away is that all of Selina’s biological and potential biological fathers were pieces of garbage and criminals who either were not involved in her upbringing or whose only impact caused her pretty significant trauma. None of them were good people. Selina grew up as an orphan and I think that’s a crucial part of why she grew to be the way she is.

As for Selina’s mother we know that she died by suicide and Selina has mentioned her very sparingly and sporadically over the years. In Pre-Flashpoint she said that she bought a remote farm because having a peaceful place to get away is something that her mother would’ve wanted.

(Catwoman (v3) #20 by Ed Brubaker)

I don’t have strong feelings towards Maggie because she’s barely ever been around, but I think the whole Black Mask situation was very sick and twisted on a visceral level. I think Brubaker only brought Maggie back so that she could be used as a device to hurt Selina and she really didn’t deserve what happened to her at all.

I think what happened with Selina’s mother and sister is very sad and tragic. She hasn’t spoken about her mother a whole lot but I do get the sense that Selina loved her mom, and she clearly cared about her sister.

#ask #anonymous #personal note

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birdhaslostit · 4 years ago

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🎁🎄❄️What the Lupin Gang would do for Christmas!❄️🎄🎁

Helloooooooo Lupin fans! You may or may not remember me as that one chick who made that Halloween headcanon post a few months back, as well as the Jigen’s bangs post. I’m back with a Christmas post!!!

Please note: Personally, I really only celebrate Christmas in a non-Jesus-y way. (Which is how I’m also writing this post, because let’s be honest, do you really think Lupin is going to confession and shit? Absolutely not.) It’s purely out of habit because I was raised Catholic, but I practice witchcraft now. My family doesn’t know that though. Because of this, I considered also making posts for other winter holidays, so I could include Lupin fans that don’t celebrate Christmas. But I didn’t want to accidentally mess it up, or write something inaccurate about a holiday that I don’t celebrate. It felt disingenuous to make a Hanukkah post because I’m not Jewish and it doesn’t seem like my place, and I didn’t want to do a Yule one either, because no two people celebrate it the same way. So, I strongly encourage others to add their respective winter festivities to this post if they want to! We’re all about inclusivity here.

Without further ado:

🎁LUPIN:

I don’t feel like it needs saying, but this man goes bonkers for Christmas.

He flip-flops his choice of red or green jacket by the year. But it always comes with an equally garish Christmas-themed tie, just to make explicitly clear that this is The Christmas Jacket for the year, as opposed to the standard red/green jacket.

The hideout(s) are always decorated to the GILLS inside. It’s an odd mix of older classy decorations he’s inherited from his family, and absolutely horrendously tacky ones he’s bought himself.

Picture real branch garlands, wrapped tastefully around gilded candelabras that have been passed down through several generations. And then one of those singing, dancing stuffed animals from Walmart that plays “Jingle Bell Rock” when you squeeze its paw, right next to it.

Christmas-themed heists? You know it, baby. But he won’t steal anything on Christmas Eve or Christmas. It just isn’t in the spirit of the season, in his opinion. But he’ll leave a little something-something with his calling cards during the rest of December. A candy cane, a sprig of mistletoe, a bough of holly, etc.

Lupin despises eggnog. He loves any other Christmas drink, just not eggnog. He’s too grossed out by the idea of drinking eggs with alcohol- some things just shouldn’t be mixed.

Will not allow anyone to mention the truth about Santa Claus in his presence. Yeah, he knows, but that’s not the point. It just feels like bad luck to say it out loud. The harder Jigen tries to debate with him that Santa isn’t real, the harder he digs in his heels that “of course he is you absolute Scrooge, how dare you! If you don’t believe, you don’t receive.”

Favorite Christmas Songs: Anything peppy!

Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney

Step Into Christmas by Elton John

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

We Need a Little Christmas by Percy Faith and his Orchestra

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Claus’ Party by Les Baxter

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Literally anything except eggnog.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything obscenely sugary. Especially gingerbread men and other decorated pastries.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Loves to ice skate and make gingerbread houses! But his houses usually look fairly pathetic, no matter how hard he tries.

Favorite Christmas Movie(s):

The Grinch (Jim Carrey version)

Home Alone

Scrooged

Christmas Gifts: The king of gag gifts, but he also gives surprisingly thoughtful presents too. He’s the kind of guy that would get a person something they mentioned once offhandedly that they really liked, and he’d go back and get it for them.

🎅JIGEN:

Lupin always wants to decorate the hideout(s) the second Halloween ends, but it never happens. With Jigen being the only American in the gang, he always puts a stop to it in order to preserve the quickly-disappearing border between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

What can I say, dude loves his Thanksgiving excuse to eat like shit and do nothing for a day. Even if it is a fucked-up holiday, historically speaking.

But once the Thanksgiving meal is over, he gives Lupin the okay to go crazy. He’s pretty stoked about Christmas too, but too full of turkey to contribute, so he just watches Lupin hang up Christmas lights everywhere while he lays on the couch and digests.

Jigen likes Christmas a lot, but like, in a normal person kind of way. Nowhere near Lupin’s insane level. He’s surprisingly open about his enthusiasm too. The average person would think he doesn’t really care about Christmas much (or anything else really), but to the gang, Christmastime is the most openly excited they’ve ever seen him.

One year’s Christmas-themed heist involved Jigen dressing up as a mall Santa as a part of the plan. The gang powdered his beard, gave him a pillow for his stomach, and sent him on his way. Everything went surprisingly smoothly, and he actually did pretty well with the kids. At first they were a little intimidated, and Jigen was kind of nervous- but he gave them all candy canes and they changed their minds pretty quickly.

Jigen enjoyed it a lot, actually... to the point that he may have potentially started volunteering to be the local mall Santa. Every year during December, he leaves for a day or two on “business.” Nobody in the gang can prove it though, and trust me, they’ve tried.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The classics and the chill ones, with a few rock ones thrown in for a little kick.

Mele Kalikimaka by Bing Crosby

Sleigh Bells by Gene Autry

(There’s No Place Like) Home For The Holidays by Perry Como

Jingle Bells by Frank Sinatra

Caroling, Caroling by Nat King Cole

Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow by Dean Martin

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday by Bing Crosby

Run Rudolph Run by Chuck Berry

Merry Christmas Baby by Bruce Springsteen (Sang this once after too much eggnog and will never live it down)

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen by the Barenaked Ladies (He’s not into all the Jesus-y stuff, but it’s pretty catchy.)

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Jigen is ALL. ABOUT. THAT. NOG. He’ll make his cup a little stronger than everyone else’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: He really likes candy canes, especially the mini ones. He’ll keep a few in his pocket with his cigs, and switch between them depending on his mood. Out of habit, it’ll usually dangle out of his mouth like a cigarette would.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Watching Christmas movies and laughing at Lupin’s shitty gingerbread houses.

Favorite Christmas Movies:

Anything that’s on at the moment, really. He likes to lounge by the TV, and he’s not picky.

He has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas though.

A Christmas Story, solely because of the BB gun.

Scrooged, because Bill Murray’s hilarious.

Christmas Gifts: Something practical and useful that the person never realized they needed until they opened the box.

☃️GOEMON:

Goemon wasn’t originally a huge fan of Christmas. Shocking, I know.

He now enjoys some aspects of it, and tolerates others. He likes the idea of giving heartfelt gifts and spending time with loved ones as a tradition, but dislikes the cheesy commercial aspect of Christmas.

He already enjoys the snow and walking through the forest, so the gang usually commissions him to pick a tree for them and cut it down with Zantetsuken. (If they’re somewhere where that’s an option.)

Unbeknownst to the rest of the gang, he will always replant the tree he cut down, and he will wrap something cozy around the bottom of the sapling to keep it safe. Yes, this was directly inspired by A Charlie Brown Christmas. No, he will not admit to this.

Favorite Christmas Songs: The instrumentals, and a few he’d rather die than admit to liking.

The Nutcracker March from The Nutcracker

Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker

Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker

Christmas Time Is Here (Instrumental) by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Greensleeves by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Last Christmas by Wham! (He likes the storyline and the romantic aspect of it.)

Do They Know It’s Christmas? by Band Aid (He likes that it was for a good cause, even if it has its flaws.)

Happy Xmas (War Is Over) by John Lennon and Yoko Ono (Again, flawed, but he enjoys the intended message of peace. Also, represents Japan on the side with Yoko Ono.)

White Winter Hymnal by Fleet Foxes

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Surprisingly fond of hot cocoa. Heavy on the whipped cream and marshmallows.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Doesn’t really like eating gingerbread men, but enjoys decorating them. They’re always pristine, like something you’d get in a bakery.

Favorite Christmas Activities: See above. Also enjoys going out in the snow, and making ice sculptures with Zantetsuken.

Favorite Christmas Movies: Refuses to admit he likes any of these.

Any of the classic Rankin Bass claymation specials.

Any other animated ones for kids. Has a soft spot for A Charlie Brown Christmas and The Polar Express.

A few of those cheesy Hallmark ones.

Christmas Gifts: Something small and sentimental he saw while walking by a store that reminded him of the person he’s giving it to. Nothing extravagant, but thoughtful nonetheless.

⛸FUJIKO:

Fujiko decorates the tree. Period. Lupin cannot be trusted to do this on his own. Goemon picks the tree, Lupin and Jigen put it in the stand, and from there, it’s all Fujiko. The ornaments, lights, and tree skirt are all perfectly color/theme coordinated, and arranged like a pristine store display.

She also has a few ornaments that she bought for each specific member of the gang. Lupin’s is a monkey (he was not pleased, but he’s whipped for her, so he let her keep it). Jigen’s is a carved wooden pistol. Goemon’s is porcelain, with hand-painted sakura blossoms on it. She bought one for Zenigata too as a joke one year- a tiny bowl of ramen noodles.

Her ornament? The star on top of the tree, because she’s the star of the show, baby. It’s actually a snowflake, made of the finest crystal she could steal.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Pop music and Motown’s finest.

Underneath The Tree by Kelly Clarkson

All I Want For Christmas Is You by Mariah Carey

Santa Tell Me by Ariana Grande

This Christmas by Donny Hathaway

What Christmas Means To Me by Stevie Wonder

Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes

Rockin’ Around The Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Darlene Love

A Marshmallow World by Darlene Love

I Like A Sleighride (Jingle Bells) by Peggy Lee

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot chocolate and mulled wine.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Loves baking and eating gingerbread men. She lets Goemon decorate them with her. Hers have lots of candy and sprinkles on them, while his are just icing.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Along with baking, ice skating! She’s the best at it out of the whole group. None of the guys are particularly good at it, but she makes them go with her at least once regardless.

Favorite Christmas Movies:

Hallmark ones, solely to make fun of them.

Babes In Toyland, but only the 1986 one, because it has Keanu Reeves in it, and “I don’t care if I’m your girlfriend, Lupin. In this house, we support Keanu Reeves.”

Christmas Gifts: Something expensive/extravagant that will make the person think of her every time they use it.

🎄ZENIGATA:

Zenigata is the second biggest Christmas enthusiast, just behind Lupin.

He doesn’t get to settle down and decorate anything really, since he’s always running after the gang, but he does lots of other little things to celebrate instead. Like getting hot chocolate instead of coffee, tuning the squad car radio to the Christmas station, getting an air freshener that smells like gingerbread, and wearing a festive scarf and gloves with his trench coat to keep out the cold.

In years past, Zenigata still had to work on Christmas Eve/Christmas, even if Lupin wasn’t out stealing anything. Lupin found out and thought that was a little harsh of ICPO, so he came up with a plan.

Each year he sends a calling card to the station with the conditions that only Zenigata can come to investigate. Zenigata does some research, shows up to the location on Christmas Eve, and every year, nothing’s there except for a neatly wrapped present from Lupin.

Zenigata keeps the present as “evidence,” goes back to the station, and they give him Christmas off to go investigate on his own, in case Lupin tries anything else. Lupin never does, but the station doesn’t know that. Bada bing, bada boom, Lupin just got Zenigata a vacation.

Zenigata never catches on, bless his heart.

Favorite Christmas Songs: Ones he can sing/hum along to in the squad car.

The Man With All The Toys by The Beach Boys

Celebrate Me Home by Kenny Loggins

Feliz Navidad by José Feliciano (Does Zenigata understand Spanish? Absolutely not. Does he get the point and think it’s festive? Darn right.)

A Holly Jolly Christmas by Burl Ives

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer by Dean Martin

Winter Wonderland by the Eurythmics

Silver Bells by Dean Martin

Happy Holiday/The Holiday Season by Andy Williams

Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town by Gene Autry

December by Earth, Wind, and Fire (Let him have this okay, it’s a good song and he gets made fun of for liking it by the rest of ICPO)

Skating by the Vince Guaraldi Trio

Favorite Christmas Drinks: Hot cocoa and eggnog, but not strong eggnog like Jigen’s.

Favorite Christmas Foods: Anything, really. It’s something besides cup noodles, so he’s grateful. Lupin’s gift always includes lots of various Christmas goodies because of this.

Favorite Christmas Activities: Zenigata enjoys the snow in theory, but doesn’t handle the cold well. So he likes to watch the snow from his window while he listens to Christmas music in his squad car and sips his hot cocoa.

Favorite Christmas Movies: He doesn’t really have a lot of time to sit down a watch a movie, with how hard he works. But he remembers a few from when he was younger, and he really likes those. His favorite is Frosty the Snowman.

Christmas Gifts: Something inexpensive because ICPO vastly underpays this poor man, and he’s always embarrassed because of that, but it’s always something super sweet and heartfelt.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And for those who don’t celebrate it, HAPPY HOLIDAYS! <3

#lupin #lupin iii #lupin the 3rd #lupin the third #rupan sansei #daisuke jigen #jigen daisuke #fujiko mine #fujiko #mine Fujiko #koichi zenigata #zenigata #goemon #goemon ishikawa xiii #ishikawa goemon xiii #Christmas #Xmas #obligatory Christmas post right after thanksgiving

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mayisani · 5 years ago

Text

Timmy & Y/N Podcast Pt.2

A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on part 1 it means the absolute world to me. Here is part 2 hope you enjoy it. Also requests are open if you want me to write anything in particular or if you have anything to say. Anyways enough of holding you up enjoy reading, much love 💕

Warning: Fluff, Cussing, Smut

Word Count: 4324

Also if you haven’t read PART 1 HERE IT IS

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You had just finished recording the first episode of your new podcast

As you were getting ready to go out to get some takeout for dinner you felt dread. You hadn’t been out in a while due to the current pandemic what made things even worse was how hard New York was hit by it. As you put on Timmy’s Kid Cudi merch hoodie that he had worn when he opened his show and your favorite black leggings with some basic Nikes. You could hear Timothée outside in the living room ordering the take out from East Village Pizza, so you guys could quickly pick it up instead of having to order in person. He finished up ordering and came into the room to grab his wallet. He looked over at you seeing the clear fear in your face.

“What’s wrong?” he said coming over to you going in for a hug

You hugged him back and looked up at him “I’m just worried about going out. I was talking to Pauline last night and she was just telling me how bad things are getting. I know I should be careful and not fearful but it still bothers me you know.”

“No, I get it. We’re living through very chaotic times right now and it perfectly fine to feel how you’re feeling but hey we’re going to follow the safety procedures. We’re going to wear masks and gloves plus it’s going to be quick okay. You can even wait by the entrance.”

You nodded feeling a slightly better and walked over to your dresser to grab your small black purse. You opened it looking inside making sure your wallet, phone, and keys were in there. Timmy handed you your gloves and black cloth mask. You put them on and started walking with Timmy out of the apartment. You waited as Timmy made sure he locked the apartment correctly. As you guys walked to the elevator you felt very bizarre this didn’t feel like reality. New York was usually very noisy especially since you guys lived in the heart of Manhattan. You guys got in the elevator and what was usually a very crammed elevator now only had you two.

Timmy interrupted your thoughts. It seemed like he always knew when your thoughts were becoming dark and he knew he had to block them. “Hey on the bright side we don’t have the paparazzi to worry about.” He chuckled trying to make you feel calmer. You looked up at him seeing his beautiful green eyes looking at you so lovingly. You leaned onto his shoulder having your arm around his waist and small smile appearing onto your face.

The elevator opened and you walked out with him Timmy locking hands with you. It was a chilly day which was normal for the time of year. You walked to East Village Pizza which was a good hour from the apartment. As you guys you saw the empty sidewalks and roads a part of you felt some sort of peace since overcrowded places gave you anxiety but the other part of you felt unease this wasn’t the New York you had become accustomed to.

“You know a part of me is happy because I get to spend more time with you but I do miss working it’s a large part of my life you know me always wanting to work on something new. I just love to be able to get in the characters headspace and tell their stories.”

“No, I understand acting has become your life and I’m so proud of you because you’re doing what you love but hey look at the bright side we’re safe and so are our families. We’re really blessed not everyone is this lucky.”

“I know I’m grateful for everything but I’m just upset because I was talking with my team and they think it’s very likely that there won’t be premieres for the French dispatch or Dune since it would be a major safety matter. We’ll probably do an at home premiere like many movies have recently. Which sucks because I won’t be able to interact with the fans and let them know how much I appreciate them. I mean that’s probably the best part being able to share something I love to dearly and have poured my heart to with the people I love.”

“Cheer up babe nothing is set in stone hopefully you’ll get the premiere you deserve and get an Oscar nomination and win.” He laughed shaking his head

“That is if there even are the Oscars I mean they cancelled the Met Gala and you know how stoked I was for that.”

“I know but hopefully next year. A lot of people were upset about it apparently I was reading about it on twitter.”

The conversation came to a stop as Timmy opened the door to East Village Pizza. You waited by the door as Timmy went up to the counter.

“For Timothée Chalamet I ordered about an hour ago.”

“You ordered 2 cheese pizzas, cheesy garlic knots, an order of mozzarella sticks, and 12 wings?”

“Yes.” They handed him the order and he walked over to you he handed you the bag and he carried the 2 large boxes of pizzas.”

1 hour later

You had just finished setting everything up on the table and Timmy was grabbing 2 cups from the kitchen cabinet and a bottle of soda from the fridge.

“You know what if we go live on my Instagram and we can basically do a mukbang like the ones you’ve been watching lately.”

You gave him the biggest smile ever “That’s a good idea plus you basically promised you’d go live.” You sat down next to him and he was setting up his phone.

“Wait how do you work this I’ve never gone live.”

“Click the camera button on the top left corner and on the bottom, swipe left till you see the live button and then just click it.”

“Okay I think we’re live.”

“Now we just wait until people start joining. You grabbed the two cups and filled them up with soda, then passed Timmy his cup.”

Username1: Wow he actually is live

Username2: Wait what are you guys eating?

“Y/N and I just got back from buying pizza and of course we got cheesy garlic knots, mozzarella sticks and wings as well.” Just shot him a look “Well I got the wings for myself.”

Username3: Hiii loves how are you guys

“We’re doing pretty good overall. Y/N has been a little worried lately but I’ve been calming her down. It’s mainly because someone had the brilliant idea of watching contagion.”

“Hey it’s not my fault I honestly didn’t think it was going to be as intense as it was. But after that I got Timmy hooked onto my favorite show at the moment so everything worked out.”

Username4: What is it called?

“Umm can I tell them Timmy?”

“I mean you technically can but you should wait since we are going to be doing another podcast episode talking about shows and movies that we’re currently watching.”

“Okay then I’m sorry guys I guess you’ll have to wait but here’s a hint I’ve been obsessed with shows from Spain lately.”

Username5: I see you lil Timmy out here promoting your podcast lol 12

“Anyways we’re going to probably going to end this here so we can finish eating and start recording again because that’s all I’ve been able to think about. Bye see you guys very soon.”

“Bye loves.” You said blowing the kiss

Timmy pouted “That’s not fair I want a kiss.

He ended the live and you gave him a peck on the lips that’s all you get for now.

“You’re going to regret this later tonight just you wait.”

“Is that a threat Chalamet?”

“Maybe it is maybe it isn’t”

He went back into your room and started setting up the recording equipment.

You both sat down and started recording

“Hey guys we’re back, welcome back hope everyone is good.”

“We just finished eating pizza and let me tell you it was delicious.”

“It was good but Y/N cooking is way better honestly. Last night she cooked me some pasta with basil sauce and feta cheese. Then she baked some banana bread muffins so you know I’m being spoiled lately.”

“I would cook more but you know we’re always busy or you’re always out of town which actually leads us into our first question of the day and that is Username6: How do you guys deal with long distance. Timmy you want to start us off?”

“Of course, Firstly I think long distance sucks but it’s a thing some couples have to deal with. We’ve had to dealt with our fair share and we’re still not used to it. But as advice goes something that always has helped is FaceTime as often as possible. Also call each other one thing we always do is call each other on the phone and just sleep. It helps because for a split moment it feels like you’re in the same room. Another tip is just text each other for example I’ll be busy shooting a scene and Y/N will still be texting me all throughout her day keeping me updated and I’ll be able to see them and respond once I’m done.”

“Long distance sucks and it’s really hard because you’re so used to each other and honestly that’s why I try my best to always go with Timmy wherever he’s traveling to but if I can’t then we’ll always be facetiming. My advice is just know that it’s only temporary and this will only strengthen your relationship at the end of the day.”

Username7: What are you guys currently watching?

“Well Y/N got me into Money Heist recently we watch all 4 seasons in about a week. We also watched little fires everywhere which is really good if you haven’t watched it I recommend it heavily I mean I was hooked the entire time. We also watched outerbanks since that’s all everyone was talking about I won’t lie I did enjoy it”

“We also watched Hollywood by Ryan Murphy which is visually stunning and has a really good storyline and of course we rewatched the office because you know Timmy is basically the biggest fan ever. I also watched dead to me season 2 I mean I liked it but I don’t know it had a slow beginning and the last 2 episodes were packed and it ended on a cliffhanger so I’m curious about where that’s going to take season 3 to.”

“If you guys can’t tell all we’re doing lately is watching shows or movies.”

Username8: Do you guys think you’ll always live in New York?

“That’s a really difficult question to give a definite answer to. And something Timmy and I always discuss.”

“The reason it’s so hard is because New York is where my family is. It’s where I grew up and honestly yes it has its issues but I still love it here and wouldn’t mind raising a family here but Y/N has made some great points about why we should maybe try moving somewhere else. But honestly who knows I mean we can technically live anywhere but career wise its best if I stay in New York or Move to California.”

“So honestly time will only tell but I think I can say that for now we’re staying in New York.”

Username9: Y/N what is your favorite movie from Timothée so far?

“Hmm that’s really hard I love Luca’s work so call me by your name is up there.”

“Why do you love Luca’s work so much?”

“Well he’s insanely talented and all his films are beautifully shot but I respect him so much because you know I don’t like horror movies I never have but I Watched suspiria and I loved it. And only a few directors can make me actually love a horror movie I think only Luca and Ari Aster have made me love a horror movie.”

“Ari Aster is very talented I mean Midsømmar was mind blowing and Florence’s performance was outstanding. If you haven’t watch Midsømmar I highly recommend it but it is gruesome so if you can’t handle gore don’t watch it.”

“But getting back on track I think Beautiful Boy is my favorite movie. It’s highly upsetting to me that its very underrated plus I think you should have gotten an Oscar I mean your performance was outstanding.”

“Aw thank you Cherie.”

“So, if you haven’t watched beautiful boy go watch it.”

Username10: What is your favorite memory together?

“I think any memory that involves just being with you and being able to cuddle you. I really appreciate all the time we get to spend together. So, I really enjoy the little things it because that’s what love means for me. But if I had to choose a specific memory it would have to be when I surprised Y/N with pit tickets to see her favorite artist. She was freaking out the entire time jumping up and down kissing me. I mean it was the cutest thing ever it really warmed my heart. Why I love this memory so much was because Y/N had been wanting to see them live for so long and she’d always talk about it and when I finally surprised her she just couldn’t believe it. Then we went to the concert and it was our first one together. The night was incredible yes, we were recognized but everyone around us was respectful and we were all dancing our hearts out that night. I think that was probably one of the nights I really saw y/n let lose in public and only cared about having fun.”

“I love that memory so much but I think I have to say my favorite memory of us was when we went to France in December so it was Timmy, his parents, Pauline and I and we all traveled there the week before Christmas. But honestly that’s when I felt truly a part of your family. It was a truly special Christmas plus I got to see where you’d go to every summer. Then 2 days later it was Timmy’s birthday which we went to Paris for and had a truly romantic morning. He took me to this really cute café and we ate crêpes which I love. Then I took him back to his family’s home and that’s when we surprised him with a birthday party. But that France trip will always have a special place in my heart.”

“You know I’ve been getting a lot of questions about a certain interview that has been floating around I think you know which one.”

“The one where I don’t answer the question and become upset?”

“Yes, that one. A lot of people have just been asking about what happened and how I felt about the whole situation and it honestly it upset me because it was a really rude comment.”

“No, I understand and I just want to say is that yes I was upset at the time but now I’ve gotten over it since a lot of time has passed but it taught me to have thicker skin when it comes to interviews and just life in general.”

“and yes, have but you’re still my sweet soft boy.”

“Yes, obviously I’m not going to change and become a total asshole or distance myself completely and never do interviews again but instead I’m just learning to not become upset so easily when it comes to things like that.”

“I’m proud of you for being mature enough to use that experience as something to grow from instead of using it against the world.”

Username11: Do you have each other’s passcodes for each other’s phone?

“This is an interesting one I think we both have the same answer to this.”

“yes, we do but let elaborate honestly if I could I wouldn’t have a passcode to my phone I wouldn’t I used to just have Y/N’s fingerprints on my phone but now with my knew one its only face id so she just has my passcode. I trust her and I have nothing to hide. Plus, my phone is basically hers because when we’re out her phone is always dying and she just ends up using mine.”

“If only I could show you guys all the embarrassing and adorable pictures he has on his camera roll. I slowly release them on his birthday when I do a cute birthday post or just randomly but of course with Timmy’s permission.”

Username12: Is it necessary to know everything from your partner’s previous relationships?

“This is a really good question. Personally, I have shared everything about my pervious relationships with Y/N and so has she with me. I know not all couples want to do this but if you can you should because we may not accept the fact, that is previous relationships shape us so it’s helpful to know about them it gives you a new perspective and lets you understand each other better.”

“I agree with Timmy completely, it’s helped me knowing about his previous relationships because I know why he does certain things and I’m able to understand better instead of becoming upset. I think it’s a key factor to having a healthy relationship. Which I got a lot of questions about how do you have a good healthy relationship and how do you settle disagreements questions within that realm.”

“Well for us we’re always honest with each other I know that’s so cliché but honesty is everything. A thing we love to do is lay in bed at night with all the lights off and just lay with each other and talk. This is the time when a lot of our deep conversations happen we talk about basically everything and also I feel like it’s a lot easier to open up I don’t know if it’s because late at night or if it’s because its dark and the environment is just so serene.”

“That’s a goof point I think all relationships should have a time to just be able to talk their hearts out with no distractions, because no one wants to be vulnerable and pouring their heart out to their lover and just look over and see them distracted on their phone. Who knows if that’s why relationships nowadays are failing. Maybe because everyone is so public and on their phones all the time and aren’t able to communicate and fully focus on each other.”

“I know I’ve said this before I think I tweeted about it a while ago but read The Shallows by Nicholas Carr it’s a really great read and it’s all about what technology is doing to our brains. But I should also put this out because I don’t want any misunderstandings. I’m not saying never use your phones or social media you can do that who am I to tell you that you can’t All I’m saying is have when you’re having deep personal conversations fully give your full attention don’t be an asshole on your phone and just saying mhmm. You wouldn’t like that so don’t do that to other people.”

Username13: When you first moved in together did you discover something about each other you didn’t know prior?

“I don’t think I did but you have to keep in mind we were basically always with each other. I’d always be sleeping over at Timmy’s place or he’d be at my place. There would be times when I’d sleep over for weeks plus we’d always be traveling together. So, it always felt like we lived together and now it’s just official.”

“Yeah no I think I know everything about Y/N when you know a person for so long you just get to know them so well plus we don’t even have boundaries anymore we’re so used to each other. At first Y/N was super shy around me but now she isn’t. But I think that’s it for today’s episode thanks for giving us a listen. We’re pretty tired due to the lack of sleep we’ve been getting.”

“Bye guys. Much love going your way.”

You turned off the mic and helped Timmy put everything away.

“That was great I’ve really been enjoying sharing more about my life.”

“I told you but you never listened to me.”

You both laid in bed cuddling each other. Timmy kissing your neck leaving love bites behind, getting on top of you. You start kissing his lips biting his bottom lip softly. He starts taking his clothes off only leaving his boxers on. You could see his erection through the thin white fabric of his boxers. You get up taking off your hoodie and leggings only leaving on your bralette and panties. You wrapped your legs around his waist continuing to kiss him, he lowered his hand taking off your panties slowly starting to finger you. You let out a soft moan

“You’re so wet for me.”

You stared at him moaning seeing the lust in his eyes quickly taking off your bralette. Passionately he kissed you bringing his other hand to tenderly grabbing her breasts he started kissing down from her lips to her neck down to you breasts looking up at you. Your hand went down pulling his boxers down throwing them across the room. You slowly started to stroke his cock as you continued kissing him.

“I want to suck you.” you said pushing him off you gently making him lay on the bed his back resting against the headboard. You sat on top of his legs going down to his cock teasing him making him moan. You started sucking his tip grabbing the bottom of his shaft as you slowly sucked more of his cock. You took him out of your mouth seeing the hickies on his lower stomach fading away you start kissing there closing your eyes enjoying the sensation that he is yours and only yours. He looks down at you “Come up here beautiful I want to kiss you.”

You get up laying on his chest caressing him admiring his pale freckled body.

“I love you.”

He got on top of you and pushed his cock into your pussy slowly thrusting into to you. Kissing your soft lips comforting you as he thrusted harder. You moaned loudly having your arms warped around his neck moaning into his ear. You thrusted your hips towards him becoming desperate wanting to cum.

“Greedy aren’t we.” He became rougher with you. He wasn’t so gentle and soft as he seemed. You started to cum making you moan loudly and unable to stay still as you came Timmy continued thrusting into you cumming as well. He kissed your forehead as he took his cock out.

“Come on baby lets go shower.” He grabbed you caring you to the bathroom placing you on the counter. You admired his naked body as he turned on the shower, he got in making sure the water was warm “Okay it’s ready you can come in.” you got off the counter walking in the spacious marble shower. He grabbed your shampoo pouring some onto his hands and slowly massaging it into hair. You felt the water on your skin as you were under the shower head washing off the shampoo while Timmy started putting shampoo onto his hair as well you finished washing your hair and Timmy got under the shower head washing his hair. You wrapped your hands around him hugging him as he washed his hair. He finished washing his hair and you both continued to wash your bodies. The scent of the vanilla and coffee body wash as he scrubbed his back you got more of the body wash rubbing it onto his back. He later did the same evening rubbing the inside of your thighs. Once you were both clean you turned off the shower Timmy walking out grabbing his robe and putting it on then passing your matching robe.

You walked to the sink started to brush your teeth you could hear Timmy in the room being clumsy trying to find his boxers and pajamas bottoms. You walked back to the room grabbing your hairbrush looking over at Timmy

“Can you brush my hair and braid it again please.”

He motioned his hand to the bed you sat on the edge facing your back towards him. He started brushing your hair making sure there weren’t any knots. He then did 2 braids like the ones he’d always do. He kissed the top of your head “Okay all done now get dressed while I go brush my teeth and face.”

You got up the bed looking at him as he walked towards the bathroom door admiring him seeing his wet loose curls bounce. You walked to the closet grabbing a black silk dress and black panties. Once you got dressed you turned off all the lights in the room and laid in bed waiting for Timmy. He came back into the room jumping onto the bed laying down.

“Careful Chalamet you’re going to make me fall of the bed.” he started laughing “It wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” you rolled your eyes a playfully hit his shoulder. He grabbed the controller turning off the tv and putting the controller on his bedside table. Moving over to you space cuddling you “I’m tired.” You turned to your side facing him placing your head onto his chest.

“Okay babe lets sleep.” He kissed your forehead and slowly started falling asleep snoring softly. You were fell asleep in his not being bothered by his snoring, as you were used to it after years of sleeping with him.

A/N: Hello hope you loved it let me know if you want a part 3 or anything else. bye for now stay safe 💕

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee x reader #timothée chalamet blurb #timothèe chalamet #timmy #tim #lil timmy tim #timmy x reader #timmy x y/n #timmy x you #timothée imagine #timothée #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee fanfic #timothee imagine #timothée hal chalamet #timothee fluff #timothee chalamet x reader #mayisani's writing

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fedeipox · 4 years ago

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The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 9 (2/3)

Soo, I’m thinking about my graduation travel and I’d really like to go to America. Something like a road trip around the States. But I definitely need more money for that to happen.

DUTCH!! I NEED HELP WITH A BANK JOB!

No. Considering how your last heists are going, better not.

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/645629699195846656/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-9-13

Chapter 9 (2/3) - Ghosts and chickens

Words: 2,5

After a few days from everybody’s departure, John decided to check Emerald Ranch for those sheep he wanted to steal. Emily changed her clothes again, wearing something that wouldn’t catch attention and with John they took a wagon: he was still recovering from Blackwater and the wolves attack, and he couldn’t ride. To the wagon they tied John’s Old Boy and Emily’s Drover.

“Why don’t we just… I don’t kn0w, ask them to do the job and get payed the half from the sheep sale instead of robbing them blind” said Emily while they headed to the ranch.

“Because that way we get paid for half of it. By robbing them we get the whole reward” replied John.

“But they are good people, trying to make a living from those sheep. It’s not right.”

“If you wanted to make things right you shouldn’t have joined a gang of outlaws.” “But why don’t you try to make things differently? It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Too late for that. We’ve been doing it this way all our life.”

Emily huffed. He had such a narrow mind. For them it was black or white, good or evil, outlaws or fine people, while in reality there were so many shades, so many chances to do things in a different way.

They didn’t want to be “slaves of the government”? Good, they could live that life - in 1899 it was still possible - but they didn’t have to steal sheep from a ranch to do that.

“So what? We walk inside and tell them we want to rob them?” she asked annoyed.

“We meet the people and ask if they have cattle to sell. I reckon we’ll soon find out where and when they’ll move it, so we can ambush them.”

“Wow, you thought it through.”

“I’m not as stupid as they say I am” he joked.

“They don’t say you’re stupid, they say you’re an idiot. It’s different” laughed Emily, but she soon realized her words had offended him.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, I only repeat what they say.”

“Who says that?”

“Nah nah, I’m not snitching on them” she laughed, shaking her head.

“Ahh… I don’t care anyway.” The road they took was definitely longer than the one she was used to do to reach Valentine and during their journey Emily asked John about his past, just like he had done with the others, and she found out he was an orphan too, and that he had joined Dutch when he was around twelve.

“What kind of life has it been?” she asked. For her it was impossible to think of living like that.

“Restless. But I know I wouldn’t be able to live any other kind of life. I feel like I was born to do this” he answered.

“Born to be an outlaw?”

“To be free.”

Emily didn’t have the courage to tell him she though that wasn’t freedom at all. How can a life lived on the run be considered freedom? Without considering the moral wrongs they did on themselves every time it happened they killed someone. But how could she explain that to John? He couldn’t understand, he had an “Old Wild West” mindset. She decided to change topic.

“How long will it take to reach this place?”

“Not much.”

“With a car it would be much easier. Can you believe that we can travel across a state in one night?”

“In one night? They are fast those cars of yours” laughed John.

“If I had a car right now, I could reach Saint Denis in half a day, maybe less. Maybe I could be home for lunch and eat the wonderful roasted chicken my mum does.”

Silence fell as Emily lowered her eyes and studied every single straw of grass on the side of the road. John of course hadn’t sensed the change in her mood.

“How long does it take with a horse for Saint Denis?” she asked looking at the horizon.

“I ain’t sure, but… I’d say two days.”

“Two days” she whispered and her eyes fixed on the road again, while in her head she was thinking about how to get to the city.

The road led them through the Twin Stack Pass, and, as soon as the rocky promontories ended, something made its appearance, something that, at least, could lift Emily’s morale of an inch: a herd of wild horses.

“Whoah! They are beautiful, in their own way, aren’t they?”

“I guess they are.” “Oh my God! It’s just like that movie… oh, what’s its name? The one with the wild horse!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The movie! The movie!” she kept yelling and pulling John’s sleeve pointing at the horses running away.

“Oh, I wish I had my phone with me so I could take a good picture” she complained.

“Don’t you have one of those things to make photographs back in camp? I saw you was trying to take a picture of Mary-Beth the other day.”

“Yeah, but with that thing I need fifteen minutes to get the angle and the light and I never know how the photo will be in the end, if I got it right… that machine is a nightmare” she said gesturing widely.

“With my phone or a normal camera, one of those we have in the future, would be much easier.”

...

John glanced at her. That was the second time she mentioned the “future” in his presence and from the natural way she pronounced those words, John was having a hard time believing that she was crazy, because she didn’t sound like a deluded fool, she sounded normal.

“You use telephones for pictures? Not for calling people?” he asked perplexed.

“We use them for both. You can call people, send a SMS, Whatsapp and make photos. Or watch a movie, listen to music…”

She rattled off a series of actions she could do with that magic phone of hers, but the more she tried to explain, the more John was confused.

With silence falling, they both looked at the green landscape around them and smelled the fresh air of the morning. The temperature in the Heartlands was ideal: not as cold as the mountains, not as hot as the south, but something in-between that made it perfect for a journey under the sun like the one they were making.

With another whip on the reins, John’s attention was caught by some far buildings with high chimneys. Emily followed his example and saw them too. She knew exactly what it was, there were so many of them in the future, even if with a little more modern style.

“Oil factory” murmured John.

“Yeah, I know. Who does it belong to?”

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe Leviticus Cornwall?”

John jerked his head around to look right at her face.

“What do you know about Leviticus Cornwall?” he asked.

“That he was a great man with a great business.”

“You mean a pompous son of a bitch with a lot of money” John laughed bitterly.

“How can you say that? You don’t know him.”

“Dutch told me about him.”

“But from my understanding, he doesn’t know the man either” she replied frowning.

“Dutch knows people like him. He’s been fighting them all his life.”

Fighting? What was he been fighting? Economists? Businessmen? But those people are only a representation of a greater thing: progress. And you can’t fight progress.

Emily was starting to understand Dutch’s character a little better: a man with wrong but strong beliefs who had succeeded in convince a bunch of people to follow him in a life of sin and misery, but presenting that life to them like the best they could aspire to, some sort of guru, a mentor.

Again, Emily didn’t find the courage to tell John that Dutch’s fight seemed useless and impossible. She didn’t want to attack that man who everybody saw like a light in the dark, the head and heart of the group. It wasn’t wise.

They focused their attention on something else, talking about futility and ordinary things until they finally reached the Emerald Ranch. In Emily’s eyes it was a very peaceful place - at least at the beginning - quite big, but with most of the houses abandoned, which was something she found strange.

Maybe the place was having a period of recession and many had decided to leave, or worst, they were fired. The thought made her feel awful. Those people were probably having much trouble already on their own, they surely didn’t need them to steal their sheep. It could have been the final blow to make them fall in ruin.

The three men inside the yard stopped what they were doing to look at them when they jumped down the wagon and walked down the street. The man with the scarred face and the limp and the little maiden. What a strange couple.

“How can I help you?”

The words caught Emily and John’s attention. A man had spoken them, a gray-haired man with clear eyes.

“Hi partner. We’re looking for, erm, sheep” said John walking towards him, hiding how he could the hurting leg.

“We’re starting a little business of ours as ranchers and we need animals” he added.

The man eyed John from head to toe frowning slightly at his words.

“You don’t look like a rancher. What happened to you?” he asked nodding to John’s leg.

“Wolves.”

“Ah… nasty bastards.”

“You can say that. So, about them sheep?”

“Listen buddy. We don’t sell privately. If you want some sheep there will be an auction one week from now. You can buy your sheep there.”

“One week from now you say? And I’ll find some of your animals there?”

“Sure, we are the best around here.”

Relieved by the fact that everything was going as expected, John entertained a conversation of a few minutes with the man about cattle, pretending he really wanted to start his own business. Emily in the meantime had already lost herself. She was looking around at that strange place, so quiet, so old.

Emerald Ranch had the stables and the animals on one side and the houses on the other, and the main house was perfectly distinguishable from those of the employees because it was definitely bigger and fancier, with its green and white exterior.

Studying the building, she saw a woman at the window, looking down at her in the street, but Emily’s eyes had passed on her too quickly to understand that she was actually there, and returning on that window a fraction of second after, she had already gone.

At the beginning she thought of a reflection, a game the light had played to her eyes, otherwise, why should that woman hide from her? The fact struck Emily in such a way that she started looking round, at the other houses, the other people, and she noticed there wasn’t a single woman among them, just men.

Her mind started to roam: she imagined the ghost of a woman hunting the place at night that scared all the women out of the place so that none of the ranchers could take wife, and without the chance to accept new people because of the ghost the place had started to fall in disgrace.

“Are you looking for something?”

The man who had spoken had red hair, green eyes and a walrus mustache. Well built and tall, according to Emily he could be around forty.

“Just looking around. Why are those houses closed?” she asked pointing at the ruining buildings.

“This was a sort of little town once, but it didn’t work. That was a saloon, and that one was a general store.”

“Why didn’t it work?”

The man smiled, looking away and Emily found his smile incredibly attractive, but at the same time she was sure he was hiding something.

“It just didn’t. Mr. Wagner, the owner, is a little jealous of his property and didn’t want any stranger to come here. That’s why you and… your friend should leave as soon as possible.”

Something inside Emily trembled at those words. The red haired man looked nice, but the worried way he had said those words was scaring her. She dared to ask just one question more.

“What about the woman at the window?”

The man took some steps backwards and shook his head slightly.

“Good day to you, Miss” he said and just walked away.

Once alone, Emily glanced again at the window before she ran back to John, who, in the mean time, talking with the man, had reached the fence and was pointing at some cows.

“John, John, I think we should go” she urged him with a trembling voice.

“Yes, I think I have all the information I need. I’ll see you at the auction then” he said to the gray-haired man stretching out a hand.

“Oh, no. Not really. We always send the young ones to herd the sheep to the auction.”

“Oh, well, goodbye then, partner.”

The two shook hands and, finally, John and Emily walked back to the wagon.

...

“They’ll move around ten heads one week from now, walking past the Twin Stack Pass. A perfect spot to surprise them. They sell each animal forty dollars. It’s not much but I reckon it will do for now.”

John looked at Emily, seated next to him on the wagon and suddenly realized there was something wrong: she had a troubled face.

“What? What happened?”

“That place… that place gave me the shivers.”

“Why? Seemed normal to me." “Something happened there, something terrible they’re trying to hide.”

John scoffed and shook his head. She was definitely

exaggerating.

“And what would it be?”

“A murder” she said without hesitation.

This time John laughed openly, but he hadn’t considered the still painful stitches on his face and the laugh chocked in his mouth and turned into a moan of pain.

“What gave you the idea?” he asked.

Emily wanted to tell him about the ghost of the woman at the window, but she knew he would have probably called her crazy.

For all the way back, she was rather silent. Heading to Emerald Ranch, she had chewed John’s ear off, and honestly, he preferred her when she talked, because that silence was making the journey long and boring.

“Oh! I forgot!” she exclaimed slamming her hand on her forehead.

“What?”

“I wanted to buy a chicken.”

John’s expression doesn’t need a description, he was more than bewildered at those words.

“What?”

“A chicken. The other day Jack told me he never ate chicken. I wanted to cook one, or try to cook one for him.”

“He’s never eaten chicken?”

It was Emily turn to look at him in bewilderment.

“You don’t know that your son has never tried chicken?”

No, John didn’t want to talk about that, Abigail already burdened him with fatherly questions everyday in camp.

“Never mind, we’re almost home” he diverted.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #arthur morgan x female oc #john marston

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irelise · 4 years ago

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Fic “Behind the Scenes” - Alex Rider

Trying to dip my toes back into writing, so I thought I’d ramble about some fics I’ve already written! This started off as ranting about my title choice and how they’re usually Final Fantasy XIV songs I butcher in order to forcibly fit the fic, but it expanded into musings about things that didn’t make the cut into the final fic, and potential sequels/things that happen down the line.

Just doing Alex Rider fics for now since that’s my current active fandom, but drop me an ask if there are any fics you’re especially interested in from any fandom!

Starting off with: Time (2368 words, gen, Alex & Yassen focused) aka my untagged Inception-flavoured AU where the plot twist was that it was a dream all along That said, this title was probably one of the easiest to come up with and was obviously from the main theme of Inception, Time! Which is fantastic like the whole movie aaaa i love Inception AUs and this fic is probably the one I’m most likely to expand into longfic if I dredge up the motivation from somewhere. It would be a mission style fic, possibly a heist, where Alex and Yassen are seemingly working together in order to steal some valuable intel from another group. Of course, it’s all a dream! Through copious dream symbolism and mind fuckery the real mission was set up by MI6 for Alex to extract intel from Yassen, who by this point is steadily losing his grip on dreams and reality after months, possibly years, spent under sedation.

Yassen has a few tricks up his sleeve, though. He’s aware that he’s (probably) dreaming and he can see the fractures in Alex’s resolve after such a long time of being used and manipulated by MI6. It would only take a little nudge to get Alex to defect -- or, at the very least, to escape.

So while Alex is busy trying to extract information from Yassen, Yassen is trying to do the opposite: inception.

The rest below cut for length and also because they’re nsfw since most of my writing was for the kink meme! Warning for general fucked-upness and unhealthy relationships

at the end, on a dusty road (8154 words, Yassen/Alex) aka the reputation sabotage fic, aka where’s part 3b?!

Title from Origa’s Polyushka Polye:

The wind scatters your brave songs Across the green field. Songs of the past, Leaving them alone with your glory, And right at the end, on a dusty road…

i just wanted something wistful and Russian about past soldiers and fading glory ok....... I came pretty close to titling the fic leaving them alone with your past glory but decided it didn’t make much sense out of context.

ANYWAY my first Yalex fic! Very much inspired by a hodgepodge of comments on Discord about how MI6 would react if they ever saw Yassen paying Alex visits in the middle of the night - “Could they be exchanging information?” “The whole night? Maybe the answer is something more obvious...”

ANYWAY the ending at the moment is pretty open - there’s two main ways I see it going:

1) Yassen comes back shortly afterwards, realises he had fucked up colossally, stays and helps Alex rebuild even though Alex (very justifiably) no longer trusts him. Very slow reconciliation and healing but ultimately happy ending.

2) aka the one where I broke Nanibun’s shipper heart over Discord: Alex and Yassen eventually reunite, but it isn’t until years later, when Alex is nearing middle age and Yassen has faded into obscurity. Alex managed to pick up the pieces of his life and even moved on properly from MI6, and now lives a fulfilling life. Married, 2.5 kids, white picket fence, the whole lot. So what if his marriage is more for partnership than for love? He’s content with the direction his life had taken and has strong ties to his community. He even managed to forgive Yassen, even though it took him a long time.

He and Yassen meet for the last time in a sunlit cafe in spring. Alex looks at Yassen and sees only a stranger with lines crinkling under his eyes.Yassen is getting old, he realizes. He thinks he should be happy that Yassen even had the chance to get old, but all he feels is relief that their paths had diverged. Alex is done with that life and he can never trust Yassen again. All that old passion had burned away to nothing, not even a flickering flame. Even though the initial parting had been painful, Alex had managed to find peace long ago, and he hopes Yassen will be able to do the same. But it's a distant, unemotional hope, the sort of hope you'd have for a distant acquaintance you haven't seen in years. The type of well wishes that are etiquette more than actual sentiment.

He's glad when their drinks are finished and Yassen melts away into the chattering springtime crowd, one final dangling chapter of his life closed at last.

...............or, 3) Alex throws himself into increasingly dangerous situations in an attempt to feel something and dies young.

(part 3b is coming someday i swear! it’s the alternate path where Yassen has second thoughts, tells Alex the truth, and doesn’t send the sex tape to MI6)

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Lemniscate (3562 words, Julia Rothman/Yassen) Not a whole lot to say about this one, except after I finished I realised it was really similar to another fic I previously wrote which also involved a young man desperate to reinvent himself completely being taken advantage of by his superior............ i have a Type

Title - I was jamming out to Locus while writing this which is a song all about an inability to escape from cycles - When fighting back right out of this system/Means falling back right into this space ; When falling back is better than simply/Falling back into pieces again - but it was long and unwieldy so I thought about shortening it to Moebius but that was a bit overdone... In the end I settled with Lemniscate which is also an infinity symbol, Moebius-like shape. Mostly it’s a reference to how Yassen never quite breaks free of his “cycle” even though he’s with Scorpia now - he was Sharkovsky’s slave and bedwarmer and...now he plays basically the same role for Julia Rothman. (Just with a bit more murder and moral erosion!)

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This probably needs a special content warning - major character death (gun suicide from the second Russian roulette scene), gore, necrophilia

closing the circle (3650 words, John Rider & Yassen) aka is it still a gen fic if there’s offscreen necrophilia?

This was originally written for a kink meme prompt for corpse mutilation + necrophilia but then the John and Yassen plot thread kind of took over and I never actually ended up writing the gory stuff oops since it was too out of place compared to the rest. So everything below can be considered not “canon” since the fic diverged so heavily from its original plan (which is why the section numbers skip around - I cut out Yassen’s bits). But if you’re curious, here’s the details for what I originally planned to happen to Yassen (well, his corpse) and the Sharkovsky family, copy-pasted straight from my notes and full of as much karma as I could stuff in:

Yassen’s death, Sharkovsky shoves his fingers in the bullet hole and spits on the body in disgust. Yassen regains consciousness halfway through this; he can feel what Sharkovsky is doing

Ivan comes running in, attracted by the sound of the gunshot. Sharkovsky tells him to do what he likes with the body as long as it’s disposed of in the end. Necrophilia scene? Afterwards Ivan disposes of the body by locking it in the cellar alone with the Dalmatian for a few days

Yassen starts getting his revenge. Ivan is the first to go when he comes to let the Dalmatian out – the Dalmatian savages him and tears out his throat before it’s finally shot. Yassen’s bones get buried along with the Dalmatian. Ivan’s body is kept in the cold storage room in the basement where they kept the old food taster’s body while they decide what to do with him.

Maya, Sharkovsky’s wife, is next. She passes away in the middle of the night. Sharkovsky wakes up next to a cooling corpse.

There are whispers that there is some sort of curse. One of the maids talk about finding blood on the carpet of Sharkovsky’s study. She’s the next to disappear. Some other workers stop turning up.

Finally it’s Sharkovsky’s turn. He dies of poison. The dacha burns down that same night.

A Scorpia agent was sent to tie up loose ends (Scorpia didn’t know Sharkovsky is already dead); Yassen kills him too. He has no loyalty to Scorpia and just wants to be left alone.

Hunter is sent to investigate. He and Yassen talk, in the end, Hunter invites Yassen to come with him, Yassen agrees. But when they leave the dacha and Hunter looks back, he finds that Yassen is gone.

And an excerpt:

Yassen is dead. He does not remember dying. There are some things the human mind tries to shield itself from, and the memory of a bullet traveling through bone and brain to erupt on the other side in a shower of gore is one of those things.

Yassen is dead. He had hoped death would mean oblivion. At his most naïve and optimistic, he had hoped death would mean reunion. Happiness. A return to simpler days.

He discovers, instead, that death is not so different from life, except he is even more powerless now than before.

There is a body on the floor of Sharkovsky’s study. Its hair had once been pale white-blond, but now it is matted with coagulating blood. That same blood spreads in a dark pool against the carpet, clotting the fibres together into ugly clumps, stiff and flaking. The fire in the hearth is still burning sullenly. Its light glistens against the grotesque strands of viscera splattered against the ground, the furniture, the wall. A round hole had been punched into the side of the corpse’s head, piercing bone and brain. That was how the man who had once been Yassen Gregorovich had killed himself. The fingers of the corpse remain loosely curled around the old-fashioned revolver that had been the instrument of death.

The only living person in the room rises slowly from his wheelchair. Sharkovsky’s skeletal face is twisted into an ugly grimace of anger. He totters over to the corpse, nudging it with the tip of one polished leather shoe. “Waste of time,” he says coldly. “Ruining a perfectly good carpet, and for what?”

In a sudden fit of temper, he lashes out with a kick. Once, it would have been strong enough to break several ribs (Yassen knows from intimate experience). Now, the corpse merely flops limply to one side. It incenses Sharkovsky further. He drops heavily to his knees, breathing harshly, and backhands the corpse across the face with one shaking hand.

#fandom: alex rider #My writing #meta

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omalleymenagerie · 4 years ago

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Alright, so, I was at the #PittsburghProtest yesterday and these are my experiences and takeaways.

CW: violence, police, looting, war crimes, vomiting, social injustice, racism, classism, long as fuck

It was chaos. The original protest leaders left at their designated time and when white supremacists showed up. That was fair on their part, but there were still people there trying to be heard by the police.

There were also people there for the wrong reasons. There was looting. You wanna know where those people were? Not standing directly in front of the cops where they were firing teargas.

Just a reminder, folx, the Geneva Convention states that chemical warfare is a war crime punishable on an international level. Not that the police will ever be held accountable even on a local level. Not the big tough good guys firing caustic gas at civilians. Who's a super brave fascist tool? Is it you, cops? I think it is.

My two housemates and I got there after the official protest was over because we heard the situation was escalating. We weren't going because it was exciting or trending. We went as support. We brought medical supplies, food, water, and several ways to neutralize the CHEMICAL WEAPONS the police were firing. At unarmed civilians. Because they're the good guys. People were already vomiting and running from the teargas when we were dropped off. We went toward it to see what we could do.

People were looting The Exchange, but these weren't protesters. These were opportunists. No one in Pittsburgh wants to fuck up our area. You wanna break shit? Break shit that hurts the community, not helps it. The 7/11s in the area didn't close and were good to us. Then someone broke the front doors of one of them and robbed the place wearing literal rubber masks. Like from a B-heist movie.

Those people weren't there to help the cause. Those people were not there to support the black community. Those people are not the allies that any community needs. Those people saw an opportunity and took it because clearly the cops were more concerned about a bunch of people standing in a line holding signs and chanting to stop police brutality against people of color. Yeah, because we were the threat.

Some of the teargas canisters were thrown back at the officers. Most of them were booted over while still going to stop them from harming protestors. The cops can act the victim on that if they want, but they're the ones with body armor and a full head breathing helmet. So, I'm pretty sure they were more equipped to handle the CHEMICAL WARFARE they were using on us.

My group quickly realized there was no one was in charge. We, three white people, have no place leading a movement like this. We were there to raise up the voices from the black community, not speak over or for them. So, we tried to find anyone who could help us go where we needed to go. We found a pair who seemed to at least have a direction to point us in. An older black gentleman who was mad about the looting and people wrecking up the city, and a younger black woman who was vehement that the looters were not part of this. They actually began their conversation as a heated argument across an intersection, but he went to her and they talked out their differences. By the time we approached them, they had found common ground. It was a beautiful display of conflict resolution. Take notes, cops.

We attempted to get barricades moved so people could actually get in and out of the city, but the cops were surrounding us, literally using city blocks to block us in and it was hard to encourage people to take away the wall between them and the people firing caustic gas at us.

Have I mentioned the teargas enough yet? Have I mentioned how horrific it smells and how it burns your flesh even by secondhand contact? Have I mentioned the people vomiting in the streets after having CHEMICAL WEAPONS used on them? Have I mentioned the screaming? Have I mentioned the terror of being separated from your loved ones when one or both of you were trapped inside the caustic gas?

I witnessed it first hand. The cops fired the canisters. The crowd screamed to run. Several people weren't fast enough to escape in time. One of my group had a full face gas mask, so he ran into the gas and physically aided an individual out who was vomiting uncontrollably. We neutralized the chemicals in their eyes and skin, called for medics who were almost nonexistent, and helped reunite them and their fiancee.

(I am using they/them pronouns as I am not sure of their pronouns and don't wish to misgender them. If you are this person or know this person, please know there was deep bravery in their actions and no shame in having a meltdown. I hope they and their fiancee who was also gassed are doing as well as they can.)

It was starting to get into the evening and my group tried to figure out where the police were set up in case anything bad did happen. We were pretty much loosely surrounded. When we got back to the main group, a line of fully geared cops had formed a block or so away from where most of us were. The police chief had put an 8:30 curfew out and we were told the cops would be taking action if we did not disperse.

That's when a small group of us formed our own line in front of the officers. We were a small, but diverse group. Gonna be honest, not everyone in that line had the same agenda. I don't like cops. I've called them insulting things in private conversations with not cops. Insulting them while trying to preach peace was not the correct way to handle this. Will it elicit a laugh if you outright state that officer over there has never made a woman orgasm in his life? Probably, but they were just making the cops mad. Not gonna lie, most of the people ACTIVELY insulting the cops were white faces.

My group did not follow suit. We listened to the people of color we stood with. We chanted the names of those murdered, I can't breath, no justice/no peace, and black lives matter. We stuck to the peaceful message the protest was meant to send. The officers were asked why they needed shields and armor against unarmed civilians? Why 20 unarmed civilians calling for an end to police brutality required no less than 40 fully geared officers? We weren't the threat. The looters who several blocks away? They were the criminals. The vandals? They were the criminals. We had our arms up or out, universal signs to show we were not a threat.

At one point, a man rode up behind us on a bike, hiding behind us completely and holding a phone out with the picture of a black man on it. The man on the bike was screaming about how they had murdered his brother, but something didn't sit right about the guy. I'm a lifelong theater kid. I know bad acting when I hear it. He wasn't sobbing. He had his head covered with a shirt so no one could get a clear look at him and then rode off just as quickly as he'd ridden in. I won't say this man was there to incite further anger, but I have deep suspicions.

I have never been at the front of a protest line facing the cops before. I have never seen nearly 50 faceless, armored, and armed officers who have permission to potentially permanently harm. I couldn't call them individuals in that moment. They were like a swarm, buzzing with tension. Some of them seemed ready to go as soon as the order was given. Some of them stood as though emotionless automatons. They switched out groups of officers, where they were standing, who had what weapon or shield. There were some that stayed exactly where they were the entire time I stood there.

I made a choice to try to look several of them in the eyes which was difficult through the visors but we were close enough that I could see their eyes. I wasn't being intimidating. I was trying to be one human looking at another human and trying to understand how we ended up here. I didn't lock eyes with any of them purposefully, but one of the officers and I did lock eyes. I'd like to say I was being brave by keeping eye contact. I'll be honest, I had a freeze response to fear. There was so much anger and coldness that I couldn't move for a few seconds. I don't know if the officer took my actions as a threat, but they weren't intended that way. Threatening cops doesn't make them want to hurt you or those around you less.

Several of us had to leave the line before the deadline. I am not ashamed to state I was one of them. Frankly, I'm a trans man, and the idea of being put in jail and misgendered for potentially several days is frightening enough without even thinking about abuses I could face. My housemate looked at me and said, "If they catch you, they will take you." So, he handed me his backpack, and I left.

There were officers everywhere while I walked through the city. Some were "undercover" but they knew they were in the homestretch and weren't even pretending to not be cops. None of which were wearing masks, as a side note. We ain't in the green yet, boys. Masks up.

I also passed several groups of fully geared cops. I just had to keep walking.

I heard sirens blaring from the direction I'd left my companions. I just had to keep walking.

I saw looters laughing about how everything was "on sale" or "so cheap" today. I just had to keep walking.

I walked probably about 5 miles to the place we had agreed to meet and waited. Hoping they would show up. I waited an hour. Nothing. I walked back down the road, hoping I would meet them along the way. Nothing. I went back to the meeting place, hoping they were there wondering where I was. Nothing. I'll note here that I made the choice to leave my phone at home. So, I had no means of communication. I finally decided that waiting 2 hours was probably longer than I should have waited, and borrowed the phone from a pizza place. Many thanks again, my dude, I'd shout you out if I could remember the name of your shop, but I'm definitely hitting you up for pizza later.

While I waited, I watched as cop cars drove by dozens of times. I don't know if they were the same cars or different ones. There were just a lot of them. I listened to sirens blare all around me. I listened to helicopters zoom around the sky. I watched as people from the protest walked by. I watched as people with looted goods walked by. I watched as people went about their lives as though the world were not rioting. I watched as eight horse mounted officers clopped by grinning like cowboys keeping order in the wild west.

I got picked up and was home safe after nightlight. It turned out my housemates were arrested and we're getting those logistics figured out. I'm worried about my partner because we haven't heard from her today.

I'm physically unharmed from my experience beyond some blisters from walking probably 10-15 miles collectively with intermittent running when, you know, chemical weapons were fired in my direction by law enforcement officers.

I am not okay, though.

I'll be honest, I grew up privileged. I grew up not thinking the cops were going to shoot me or my loved ones. I didn't have to be afraid because of the color of my skin. I was never one of those, "racism is over," people because I grew up in the south where racism is alive, well, and thriving. I grew up always afraid cops were going to arrest my father because he pretty much told me if we were ever pulled over the cops were taking him away from me. (Thanks for the long-term trauma, dad. Gotta pay for my therapist's kid's braces somehow, right?)

But that's why I went. Because, statistically and factually, I am less likely to be murdered by the police than any of the POC there just because of the color of my skin. So, I went because I was physically capable of being on my feet outside for that long, which is my physical privilege. I stood with the black community yesterday because I am trying to be the best ally I know how to be.

I may not be able to go to another protest soon, but I will when I'm able. I'm very shaken. My already crumbling worldview is shattered beyond repair and I'm just trying to figure out what to do with all these broken shards of hope.

If you made it this far into my rambling, thanks for taking the time to read. These are my experiences. These are my opinions. I stand with the black community. Your value is not determined by the color of your skin.

(Edited because leaving my phone at home was not a mistake, just frightening. Remember, phones are tracking devices.)

#black lives matter #say their names #Pittsburgh protest #nojusticenopeace #I cant breath #ally

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myhahnestopinion · 5 years ago

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THE AARONS 2019 - Best Film

Once again setting a personal record and winning a friendly competition, I watched 105 films from the year 2019. That’s more films than there are seconds of screen-time for Rose Tico in The Rise of Skywalker! That one won’t be found here, but after ranking all 105 movies, here are the ones that did rise to the top of my list. Here are the Aarons for Best Film:

#10. Marriage Story

Marriage Story twists a knife we never even saw go in; its tragedy is a fully formed snowball of once seemingly-insignificant bad decisions that the viewer is powerless to reverse, only observe. Director Noah Baumbach, however, makes only great decisions in his tale of the difficulties and distractions of divorce (in the context of the film, that is. The infusion of Baumbach’s informed personal experiences is unmissable here). The film splits its focus between the perspectives of the two former spouses, but not evenly. Through both, we understand the effects of unintentional harm of other being; in the unbalance, we empathize with people reaching that realization at different times. Marriage is a story about learning that, no matter the effort to relate to another, there will always be unknowns, but in trust, there is peace.

#9. Little Women

The best adaptations play to the strengths of the screen. The kinetic timeline shifting of director Greta Gerwig’s new version of Little Women is a feat only manageable in cinematic form. The shake-up to the traditional script enlivens the familiar story; the bits of happiness and heartbreak all feel a little bit bigger. Backed by an exceptional cast, Gerwig illustrates that the importance of retelling stories is the same as the importance in telling them to begin with. The movie is undoubtedly the superior cinematic version of the story; if it’s not too blasphemous to say, it’s the best version on the big-screen or off.

#8. The Farewell

Secret secrets are no fun, but can shared secrets spare someone? It’s the question at the heart of director Lulu Wang’s The Farewell, in which a family decides not to tell their grandmother she only has a short while to live, and stage a wedding as an excuse to gather the family together before she dies. Such a heavy burden seems unbearable alone; the cycle of shame and fear when trying to find the best way to love someone is inexorable. Sharing has never been a strong suit of the Western world; the culture clash of the understated film ends up a surprising source of comfort. Yet there will always come a point where one must face such uncertainty alone, and choose whether to say goodbye to the guilt or not. The Farewell is a comfort there as well.

#7. Parasite

It’s not what you know, it’s who you know; survival depends on sticking together. Like The Farewell, Parasite’s premise unearths questions of solidarity; unlike The Farewell, its execution is not understated. Director Bong Joon-ho’s lampooning of late-stage capitalism is as unmissable as a big dumb rock, and he lampshades it as such. Parasite is the most unexpected of heist films, but one that cuts to the heart of the genre: the world as-is is a mad scrabble for a good job, and morality need not apply. The insidious ploy of the film is an insightful exploration of class conflict. The two families at its center may not have a single person between them who’s not hungry for more, but only one is deciding how many seats are at the table. It’s not our world, we’re just living in it.

#6. Knives Out

After the dregs of the internet came for him with knives out, director Rian Johnson decided to kill them with kindness… and gift everyone with another masterful work of cinema. There’s no foul play made in Johnson’s new murder mystery; the cast is stacked with talent and the screenplay stacked with twists. The story subverts genre expectations in revolutionary ways, keeping viewers guessing and engrossed. The additional emotional undercurrent is similarly revelatory; even when killers are caught and loose ends are tied up, questions of justice remain. Pointed, poignant, and uproarious, Johnson has carved up an excellent mystery. Considering his debut feature Brick, it’s no surprise the director’s dunnit again.

#5. Shazam!

After shifting its focus from an overambitious shared universe to its lesser known characters, DC Comics has captured lightning in a bottle once again. The selling-point of Shazam! is, in a word, magical: a young boy given the power to transform into a full-grown superhero (play with infectious charm by Zachary Levi) boils down the appeal of the genre to its base wish-fulfillment elements. With superpowers dominating the cinemas right now, Shazam!’s recentering of their collective narrative is more powerful than Zeus. Zack Snyder sought to bring maturity to the Superman story by questioning the burden of possessing power. Made for kids but holding the wisdom of Solomon, Shazam! combats Snyder’s misguided notions: with great power comes great responsibility, but responsibility is sharing power.

#4. One Cut of the Dead

While there are many films shot in one-take, including one vying for Best Picture at the Oscars this year, One Cut of the Dead’s pure commitment to its craft makes it a cut above the rest. In the film, things go haywire for a small filmmaking crew on the set of a zombie movie when real zombies attack; what happens next is best left unspoken (to preserve its wonderful surprises). The tightly-crafted horror-comedy is a bloody beast; its multi-limbed nature reaches every mark its aiming for, tearing at one’s heart, brain, and stomach in equal measure. It deconstructs its own movie magic only to build up an even more fantastic monument to cinema and the cooperation demanded by its creation. Within One Cut of the Dead’s endless inventiveness, the art-form’s rarely felt so alive.

#3. Midsommar

Midsommar is an honoring of tradition, but it quickly evolves into something all its own. Its most obvious influence is The Wicker Man, yet while that film’s pagan horror turned a twist of fate and a twist of faith into its punchline, Midsommar lets viewers in on the joke. Director Ari Aster lets events unfold at a meticulous pace in the closed-off community, but dread never sets in. The film is perhaps entirely miscategorized as horror; any screams crescendo into a potent catharsis. Midsommar is a banquet of visual treats that leaves viewers to chew on a shocking ending. With both, Midsommar is nothing but fulfilling.

#2. Us

Many directors can’t escape the shadow of such a successful debut, but luckily for us and for Us, Jordan Peele was no less effective at holding up a mirror to society’s sins in his sophomore feature. Like Get Out, Us rips the ineffectual bandage off this country’s festering wounds, demanding they be properly addressed lest they be allowed to kill us. The effect is once again deeply uncomfortable, gnawing at the viewer long after it’s over, as all proper horror films should. Peele, however, is entirely comfortable, further solidifying himself as an unmissable auteur through an assured handling of tone. The movie is both a crowd-pleaser and entirely uncompromising; we have met both friend and enemy, and it is Us.

AND THE BEST FILM OF 2019 IS...

#1. It: Chapter Two

It is inexplicable. The first half of the new adaption of Stephen King’s monstrous book was #8 on this same list back in 2017, yet while Chapter Two is much more uneven and unwieldly, it floated all the way to the top as my favorite film of 2019. It’s victory certainly owes a debt to its origins; the second part is a reflection on the first, as the adult version of the Loser’s Club must remember their past to battle the child-eating clown one last time. With this intent in mind, the film’s ungainly composition shifts into a new form. Chapter Two is an eerie and eerily-accurate encapsulation of the sensation of unpacking past trauma. It’s confusing, frustrating, disheartening, scary, and often unexpectedly funny trying to control such a narrative. Sometimes, all one can do is scream at the cyclical cruelty. In those moments, the greatest thing is to have someone screaming with you. Perhaps the It sequel suggests that there is no such thing as good movies or bad movies - maybe there are just movies that you need. Chapter Two is a cinematic barbaric yalp, indulgent in its runtime and its special effects because that is how it can and chooses to be heard. I needed it.

NEXT UP: THE 2019 AARONS FOR WORST FILM!

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letterboxd · 5 years ago

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Milking It.

Peerless American filmmaker Kelly Reichardt talks to Ella Kemp about her new film, First Cow, her favorite animal performers, and getting down to the nitty gritty of things.

We’re resharing this post to mark the arrival of ‘First Cow’ on VOD. The interview took place timed to the original release of the film in March, prior to the coronavirus pandemic.

With little fuss, Kelly Reichardt has been making some of the most tender and thoughtful films about American loneliness for decades. The quietly acclaimed director, writer and film lecturer began her feature career in 1994 with River of Grass, a runaway story of a couple caught in a tragedy, and now celebrates her ten-title milestone as a filmmaker by gifting the world the peaceful and moving portrait of another pair of nomads in First Cow.

Reichardt has earned her reputation as one of the most impressive and reliable American filmmakers with knockouts including the stripped-back heartbreaker, Wendy and Lucy and the stunning portrait of feminine isolation and frustration, Certain Women. There is always a common thread—and there is often Michelle Williams—but then, also, each film is a rich, vivid new tale that feels like it belongs to you and no one else.

Based on the 2004 novel The Half-Life, written by Reichardt’s frequent collaborator Jonathan Raymond, First Cow has been coming together for over a decade, and feels like the culmination of Reichardt’s finest skills and sensibilities. The story follows Cookie (John Magaro) a taciturn cook travelling alongside fur trappers in 19th-century Oregon, whose ambition comes into focus when he meets King Lu (Orion Lee), a Chinese immigrant. Together, they develop not only an essential friendship, but also a delicious business model, which involves slyly stealing milk from a cow owned by a wealthy landowner. It’s a film of subtle gestures, of deeply tender attentions, with a sharp eye across endless landscapes, and already has devoted fans on Letterboxd.

“I have never felt so well cared for by a movie,” writes Liz Shannon Miller in her Letterboxd review. Zachary Panozzo appreciates the way the film tackles American capitalism as a system, writing that “First Cow, in the most pleasant and honest way, calls bullshit on that.” And Phil Wiedenheft observes: “It feels—like all her work—so simple and elegant that it’s a wonder how [many] histrionics so many other filmmakers have to perform to end up saying less.” And, everyone wants those butter-honey biscuits.

First Cow premiered at the Telluride Film Festival last year and went on to the New York Film Festival shortly after, before impressing European audiences last month in competition at the 2020 Berlinale.

Sharing memories of the writers who shaped her movies, the first film that proved that cinema could show a different view of the world, and the greatest animal performers of all time, Reichardt chats with our London correspondent, Ella Kemp.

Orion Lee as King-Lu and John Magaro as Cookie in ‘First Cow’.

How did you choose where to strip The Half-Life back, to get to a film-sized story? Kelly Reichardt: The novel goes through four decades and they sail to China, so it was way outside the realm of what we could do. It also has a contemporary thread, and that just became a prologue and we settled into the 1820s. We found the main mechanism, the cow, which doesn’t exist in the novel—in the novel they’re selling the oil from beaver glands to China. So once we had the narrative element of the cow, we could work our own way into the script while still using a lot of the themes and stories from John’s novel. And the other thing John did, which was great, was to combine two characters from the novel. King Lu is actually a fusion of two people in the novel.

On paper, First Cow might seem like a straightforward Western but in practice it feels much softer. How do you see it in terms of genre? I didn’t feel any limits by a genre, and I wasn’t really thinking of it as a ‘big W’ Western. I actually see it as a heist film if anything. When I made Meek’s Cutoff, we were dealing with bonnets and wagons and the desert and people crossing West. That felt like having to deal with the whole history of the Western while we set up the camera, but I didn’t feel like that at all here. I just felt like we were telling an intimate story about two people. We were in the minutiae of trying to find out as much as we could about the Multnomah tribes that lived on the Columbia river, and we had fashioned Toby Jones’ character—the Chief Factor—after John McLoughlin in the [retail business group] Hudson’s Bay Company. It was more about researching the beaver trade and definitely taking artistic liberties, while also really trying to stay pretty true in the details to the period. It was such a little world we were building, I didn’t really have the feeling that I was confined in a genre at all.

Kelly Reichardt. / Photo by Jens Koch courtesy Berlinale

You work with outdoor landscapes a lot, particularly in Oregon. There are similarities with Meek’s Cutoff but also with Wendy and Lucy—the nomadic loners, the animal companion… What keeps you coming back to these places? I’ve actually worked outdoors much more than I’ve worked indoors. It’s really the indoors which was really fun to shoot here, because with Tony Gasparro, who was the production designer on First Cow, he and I were able to design these cottages and interiors and build around what [we] wanted to shoot, which is really great and a first for me. But outdoors is where I’m usually mostly shooting. It was recognizable to me at different points in the film that we were recalling Old Joy and Meek’s Cutoff and Wendy and Lucy. It was like the ‘Best Of’ of my movies.

There were some echoes of the other films for sure. It’s interesting to think how that’s happened. Because really, John’s novel The Half-Life is the first thing I ever read of his, and I wrote to him asking if he had any short stories—because I knew the novel was too big back in 2004—and he sent me Old Joy, the short story, which became the first thing we did together. But in between all that we’d been musing together for a decade, whenever there’s a lull in whatever we’re working on, we’d ask ourselves how we could do The Half-Life. It’s been cooking on the back burner for a long time, so maybe it’s bled into other films along the way.

Would you ever consider working in the city? I’m definitely ready to do something contemporary. It could be anything. I will just say on the practical side I do enjoy going away with a crew and feeling somewhat off the grid while making a film, separate from everyday life. When you say a city, I immediately think of New York. Never say never, but it’s just the practicalities of it… even if you can hire the crew you want, it doesn’t jump out at me as the most inviting thing.

In First Cow, your central characters are two men. Did you encounter different things in delving into male psychology after shaping so many rich female characters across your filmography? I don’t think of it in terms of gender, more in terms of personality. Maile Meloy’s short stories that I was working off for Certain Women focus on isolated women, a theme in some of her writing. But it’s really more about getting down to details on all levels of filmmaking for me. You have at some point the bigger picture, but I like to get down to the nitty gritty of things, in the story I’m telling and the people I’m making the story about and not worry about what gender anybody is. It’s more about who are these characters. A big draw to The Half-Life was that the Cookie character was so great. King Lu was totally fascinating as well. So it was more about keeping track of what they wanted, what they were to each other in the minute-by-minute, more even than in the big sense.

Lucy, the very good girl in Reichardt’s ‘Old Joy’.

Evie, the titular cow, is a terrific performer. What is your favorite animal performance on film? Oh god… Lucy! My own beautiful dog in Old Joy (2006), actually. No, of course there’s others. The animal that probably made the biggest impression on me as a kid was in Mike Nichols’ The Day of the Dolphin (1973). That dolphin was everything. You’re always afraid the animals are going to come to some demise. There’s [Vincente] Minnelli’s Home from the Hill (1960), which has the tragic hunting dog there. But it’s such a beautiful film. Whenever a film is named after the animal, you know it’s bad news for the animal.

Do you have a favorite film to teach your students? I’ve been teaching since 1998 so I wouldn’t call anything a favorite, but one film I’ve used in a sound class a lot is the opening scene of McCabe & Mrs. Miller (1971), where we’re just listening to the sound, and we turn off the image and the students describe the space. And so by doing that over the years I have René Auberjonois’ voice so firmly planted in my head, as he’s the bartender in the opening scene. I had the great pleasure of working with him on Certain Women and we wrote a little part for him [in] First Cow where he’s the cranky guy in town with the raven.

What is the film that made you want to be a filmmaker? When I was a kid and I saw Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962) on TV, and there was a scene on a beach at night that happened in black and white. It was the first time I’d seen the ocean in black and white—I grew up in Miami. It was the first time I became aware that people could do something as far as film went. I think when I was in art school, Stranger Than Paradise (1984) came out, and it probably opened the door to a lot of people’s minds—like a lot of people who saw the first band who played their own music and not cover tunes, like, ‘maybe I could tell my own story on film’. It made something seem possible, for myself anyway.

‘First Cow’ is in US cinemas now. An international release is yet to be confirmed. Kelly Reichardt’s films ‘First Cow’ and ‘Wendy and Lucy’ feature in Letterboxd’s Official Top 100 Narrative Feature Films Directed by Women.

#kelly reichardt #first cow #american film #american cinema #capitalism #animal performers #hollywood animals #female filmmakers #directed by women #52 films by women #female director #letterboxd #interview #q&a

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rational-mastermind · 5 years ago

Text

It Doesn’t Hurt

5/5, the finale. Yay! Now we can be done with this. XD;; To anyone who’s actually read all five chapters, thank you. I hope you liked it.

We got in our cars and drove home and by the time I had reached my apartment, I felt drained. The events of the day had taken their toll on me and I was more than happy to just sit on my couch and try to not muster up any more emotion than necessary.

“Long day, huh?” Siobhan asked.

“It happens.”

She sat down with me. I rubbed tiredly at my eyes.

“You look exhausted.”

“I have achieved a new metaphysical, dare I say, even spiritual level of exhaustion.”

She chuckled, which made me smile a little. But it was weak and forced. I was honestly too groggy to put in that much effort.

“I know those days.” she said, smiling back at me with sympathy.

“No… No I don’t think you do.” I mumbled, looking up at the ceiling.

“Well how bad is it?” she asked sympathetically.

“I mean, I’m not just tired, like, physically. It’s not just physical exhaustion. I’m... Mentally exhausted. I’m spiritually exhausted.”

“Maybe you just need to go to bed early?”

“Sleep won’t help.” I replied, deadpanned. “Sleep never helps it just makes things worse.”

“Trilby?”

“Which is worse? The nightmares or the stress? The days or nights? The endless cycle of pain that is our existence..” I sat up more and rubbed at the headache that I had been fighting all day.

“Trilby, what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that I am… broken.” I stated, starting to grow slightly irritated, and more depressed. “I’m just.. Broken. Down to my core. I can’t.. I shouldn’t..”

“Trilby??” Siobhan was genuinely confused as I shook my head, trying to figure out how to phrase things.

“I don’t know why you bother to stay so close to me.. I’m no good. I should’ve already died.”

“..Trilby, please don’t say that.”

“It’s true.. Siobhan, I did die. I died at that hotel. The thief was thrown down, Siobhan, and he knew the name of the King. I know I died.”

“That’s… not funny, Trilby. You didn’t die... I brought you back. You didn’t die…” She started to sound scared.

I found I couldn’t care at the time.

I stared fixedly at the floor, a part of me fighting to make sure I saw the floor instead of my blood pooling on the stump.

“I remember dying.” I finally said. “And I don’t think I’ve been right ever since. Everything was black. Everything was calm and peaceful. I thought I was finally free.”

“Free?”

“I thought I could finally escape the hell of existence only to find my time wasn’t finished. I don’t know why. I don’t know how.” I could feel myself growing angrier. “Lenkmann said I was a man who died on my terms, so why haven’t I died?!”

Things became blurry. I could remember the stump. I remembered Lenkmann.

I remembered The Prince standing over me.

The Prince.

“Is that why I hadn’t died?”

“Why haven’t you killed me too, you skinny bastard?!” my past echoed out to me.

“DAMMIT IS THAT WHY I’M NOT DEAD?!” I realized only dimly that I was screaming. I think I recall pulling at my hair. “Was this the Prince’s doing?!”

“Trilby, what the hell are you on about?!”

I could feel my mind spin and everything began to swam in my vision.

“It’s because I challenged him, isn’t it? He didn’t kill me because he can’t kill me cause I’m the Guide! So if he can’t kill me, he’ll simply torture me! It’s an endless cycle of torture, just as the King would want. Now it all makes sense, this is all that’s left for me. I never left! I’m still there, stuck in endless pain. I’m nothing but a plaything for Chzo!”

Suddenly I felt my body being shook violently and my mind was pulled back to the present.

I was back in my apartment and Siobhan was yelling at me.

Tears were freely spilling down my cheeks. Reality settled back into place.

I was shaking all over.

“Trilby, what the hell?!”

I blinked. A few times. Shook my head to remove the last of the fog in it and looked back at Siobhan.

“...S...sorry..” I apologized. “I.. Oh Siobhan, I’m sorry.”

I rubbed away the tears and tried to take a calming breath, albeit it shaky and stuttering.

“I didn’t mean to… go off like that.. Siobhan, I’m sorry.” I apologized again.

“Does this happen often??”

“Sometimes.. Some days...are much worse than others..” I sighed and carefully took her hands off my shoulders. “I’m sorry.. This is usually why I like to stay away from people.”

“Trilby I think this is every reason why you NEED someone with you!” Siobhan argued, scared and concerned. I felt horrible looking back at her worried face. “Actually I think what you really need...is a break.. From everything.”

I sighed.

“I don’t get too many of those…”

“Well then it sounds like now’s a good a time as any to start.”

“How would that work?”

“Well.. Like..” Siobhan thought for a moment and then took my hands and guided me to the couch. I didn’t even realize I had been standing, but sitting back down, only then did I realize my legs ached a little. I must’ve been pacing during my small breakdown. “Start with this. And.. Hang on.”

She got back up and went to the kitchen. After a moment she came back and sat down beside me.

“Okay, I’ve got water on for tea.”

“Siobhan what-?”

“Na na na na na.. No. You don’t ask questions. Let me ask the questions. You need a break from this. All that. Work, Chzo, the whole thing. You need a break.”

“No, Siobhan, I think I just need-”

“Trilby, you. Need. A. Break.” She said firmly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “You need to think about something else for a little while.”

I looked at her a moment, a serious expression of determination on her face. I sighed and surrendered. I didn’t have it in me to argue anymore. Whatever was left in me was now spent and I simply sat back and did as she told.

“Okay, let’s… Talk about something else.” Siobhan began. “Um… What’s… Your favorite color?”

“My favorite-?”

“Yeah.”

“Ummm..” I searched my brain for an answer. I honestly don't give it much thought. I shrugged. “Uh, black? Blue’s... kinda nice.”

Siobhan smiled and relaxed with me.

“Cool. I like purple myself.” she grinned.

“Siobhan, what the hell is the point of such a silly question?”

“Just to get you thinking about something else.” she shrugged. “Abed… used to need help grounding too. He would get so forgetful and thoughtless. So just talking about things would help.”

I decided to just go with it.

“Well.. What else would you like to know?” “Hmm..” she thought for a moment and then snapped her fingers as the idea came to her. “Okay, what’s your favorite movie?” I couldn’t help a chuckle and shook my head.

“Siobhan.. I’m sorry to inform you that I’m one of the most boring men you’ll ever meet.” was my answer. “I don’t watch a lot of movies.. I hardly watch any television, period.”

“Oh my gosh, come on, really? Not even the classics?”

“Like what?”

“Like.. Like Robin Hood? Mask of Zorro?”

“Well as far as Robin Hood goes, the book was admittedly better than the movie, and I never heard of Zorro.”

“Holy shit, now I’ve gotta show you Zorro. You’d love it!”

I chuckled more.

“What? What’s so funny?” she asked.

“I don’t know.. It’s just..all so silly. This is silly.”

“That’s the point!” she playfully nudged me.

We talked for a bit longer after that. She got us tea and after that she fixed dinner. She refused my help, so I was left to sit at the dining room table while she worked.

“So you’ve always wanted to be a thief?”

“Surprisingly, no. I used to be into engineering. It’s how I made my grolly.”

“Ahh.. Weird. Wait, that’s really weird. You? Engineering? Isn’t that kinda nerdy?”

We laughed and talked. Siobhan strayed away from any topic I was reluctant to answer. Silly things, serious things. It was nice. It felt nice to finally just share whatever’s been on my mind. We talked through dinner and well after. I was starting to feel better, as strange as it was.

“And that’s how the newspaper coined my nickname, Trilby.” I was explaining at one point, showing her a small trinket I kept from the Valentine’s Day Heist. “So, as an alias, it sufficed.”

“So then what’s your real name?” “Nice try, but I’m going to have to be a lot more drunk to give that one away, and I don’t drink.”

“Geez, you’re boring.” she teased.

I didn’t pay close enough attention, but I ended up talking about things that bothered me as well.

“Doesn’t everyone do that? Wear a mask?” she asked.

“Not like an emotional one. I’ve been doing that for so long. Every time you think of some composed gentleman thief named after a hat, that’s my facade. No, I mean literally.. This face… it doesn’t quite feel like mine.. This body doesn’t feel like mine.. I feel like I’m just looking through windows out someone else’s head.” I looked down at my hands.

Siobhan gently took one and began to trace it with her fingers. The feeling brought a slight distraction, making it easier to talk without losing myself in my thoughts.

“What do you think you should feel like then? What’s supposed to be different?”

“I don’t know.. Some days I feel like everything’s normal. Others.. It’s like I look in the mirror and I feel like I was supposed to be older looking.”

“Isn’t that a good thing that you’re not?”

“I’m sure it’s supposed to be. But it just feels like a disgusting lie. And then I feel worn and tired again. Not physical exhaustion. Like I’ve already lived two lifetimes but was cheated out of death both times.”

“Cheated?”

“I’ll admit, I was pretty suicidal before we met.” I confessed. Siobhan looked worried and I couldn’t offer any consolation other than a shrug. “It’s not...so bad now. Sometimes I can ignore it. The depersonalization. But some days… It all piles up. The exhaustion. The suicide. The age. The stress. The trauma. And I can’t...”

“Like earlier?”

“...Yes.”

It was late into the night and I wasn’t paying much attention to anything anymore. Siobhan and I were curled up on one end of the couch. Her head rested on my chest, I had an arm wrapped around her. A blanket I normally kept on the back of my couch was haphazardly wrapped around us. My body felt like lead. My eyelids were heavy.

“Don’ lemme fall asleep.” Siobhan hummed, rubbing her face against me.

“Mmm.. Maybe you should fall asleep.”

“Noooo…” she whined and frowned. “I.. can’.. No’ till you do.”

“Heh. Siobhan… You…” I had to pause to yawn. “Terribly sorry.. You underestimate my ability to… function without sleep.”

“No.. Sleep…” she groggily demanded.

I smiled and simply shook my head.

She was already falling asleep quickly on me. I sighed and carefully slipped out from underneath her, leaving her to rest her head on the back of the couch, while I quietly turned out the lights in the apartment and got the bed ready for her.

I came back and gently helped coaxed her awake.

“Siobhan.. Come on.. Time for bed.”

“Mmm.. No…” she groaned, curling up tighter on the couch.

I smiled and gently pulled her arms away from her head.

“Up.” I commanded quietly.

She eventually gave in, sitting up. Her eyes barely open. I chuckled and helped her get to her feet. She blinked, looked up at me, gave me a quick kiss, and started stumbling to the bed. I gently lead her, helping her to keep her balance, until finally she sat on the bed.

“Alright. Good night, Siobhan.”

“Mm.” she whined and then, very much like a child, held out her arms to me.

I looked at her confused and leaned down.

“What?”

Without warning she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down onto the bed with her.

“Wh-?? Siobhan. I-” I tried to pull away gently.

“You need sleep too.” was her only means of reasoning.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” I tried to reassure her.

“Noooo.” she whined and hugged tighter. “Nightmares…”

I was too tired to do more than chuckle at her reaction. Any more sane and I likely would’ve been annoyed. Instead I shook my head and gently pulled at her arms.

“At least let me change into some pajamas?” “Fine..” she released me from her grasp. “Better come back though.”

“Alright, alright.”

I didn’t have it in me to argue. I simply changed my clothes and came back as promised. She still laid there, eyes barely managing to stay open. I slipped in beside her and was instantly greeted with arms around my middle and a face buried into my shoulder.

“Satisfied?” I asked.

“Yes.” she chuckled.

I shook my head and turned out the light. We got comfortable together. I didn’t care if this didn’t seem proper or appropriate. It was nice, sleeping in my bed again. Even nicer that there was something soft and warm curled up next to me.

I could see Siobhan’s face in the dim light of the room. It looked so peaceful and relaxed. I felt so grateful for talking with her, and was a little surprised to feel how much of a difference it really made. I leaned closer and gently kissed her. Her lips barely responded, in a sleepy attempt to kiss back. I pulled away and she was smiling.

“Trilby?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“...I love you too, Siobhan.”

I quickly lost consciousness after that. And for the first time in so long, it was a deep and restful, peaceful sleep. It took me much longer to finally wake up enough to crack open my eyes. I instantly squeezed them shut again at the bright light of the new morning with a groan as sharp pain pierced my brain.

“Good morning...”

“Hmmmm?”

I tried opening my eyes again and sleepily blinked until I could see Siobhan’s gentle smiling face.

“Good morning, Siobhan…” I replied, my voice groggy and slightly hoarse with sleep. I weakly smiled back.

“How you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Good.” she kissed my cheek.

I grinned a bit more as she cuddled up closer and sighed lazily. I wanted to stay like this forever.

That is, until I remembered we had work to do today. I sighed defeatedly and rubbed at my eyes.

“We should get up.” I grumbled.

“Ugh, do we have to?” she groaned and buried her face further into me. “It’s warm and cozy here.”

“Siobhan, to be fair, this is a touch inappropriate, isn’t it?”

“Nope.”

Siobhan seemed content to stay there for the remainder of the day, until she finally started waking up more.

“Wait.. When did I get into bed?”

“I all but dragged you to bed after you fell asleep on me last night.” I chuckled.

She looked up at me, utterly bewildered.

“..Seriously? I don’t remember that..”

I shook my head and Siobhan looked at the situation with a newly awoken perspective before looking back at me again. She paused, and then her grin became sly.

“Well Mr. Trilby, this is rather ungentlemanly of you.” she said coyly, obviously teasing.

I chuckled and seeing an opportunity, I played along.

“It wasn’t my fault you couldn’t keep your hands off me.” I teased, earning a small laugh. My hand gently traced her jawline only to cup her chin and bring her face closer to mine. “You made such a scene, practically begging me to join you, it would’ve only been rude to ignore you.”

“Holy crap, Trilby..” she chuckled, turning pink in the face. She was quickly becoming flustered and shy. It was adorable.

I grinned more and my hand slowly roamed down her side, reaching her waist and gently pulling her closer to me.

“But I swear, I didn’t take advantage of you last night...” I purred. “That is not what a gentleman does.”

Siobhan’s blush darkened to a deep crimson red and she bit her lip. She squirmed slightly.

“You.. could’ve.. I… w-wouldn’t have minded..” she stammered, meekly.

“Oh but that would be horribly improper.” I gently scolded.

“And now..?”

She looked so hopeful. So eager.

My cue to pull away entirely.

“And now that I’m awake, time to get up and get to work.”

The effect was perfect, leaving Siobhan in a flustered mess for once. She stammered and yelled at me. I grinned back.

We laughed and finally got up, took turns getting dressed, and ate breakfast. Before leaving, I grabbed my grolly, hat, gloves, mask, momentarily reminding myself of old habits, and we headed for the shop. Naturally, morning traffic made it take a while, but for once, I didn’t mind wasting a little extra time.

“Hey, Trilby?” Siobhan said during a small bout of silence. “I think… we should talk.. About...us?”

I was puzzled, to say the least, at first, but remembering how we didn’t really address anything yesterday, despite my weak hesitation... I’m only surprised I didn’t bring it up myself.

“...I agree.” I said, becoming more serious. “I did mean to ask you about that.”

We sat in silence a bit longer, not really sure how to start. Siobhan sighed and, as usual, broke the silence.

“Okay, lemme just put this out there.” she rolled her eyes. “Are we ever gonna see each other after this?”

“Well I mean..” I knew my answer, but still, saying it aloud was… unusual. “...I’d like to.”

“..I’d like that too.”

“But..” I sighed. “Our schedules…”

“Well how bad is yours?”

“They usually have me running errands every other weekend..” I sighed with a tired and satirical smile before frowning in seriousness again. “And.. Well some missions can take days.. Weeks.. Months..”

“I could wait for you…”

“They’re kind of dangerous… I may come back more broken than before.”

“If you’d let me… I’d like to help fix you..”

“Is this really something you’d want?” I asked, a little nervous for the answer. “..I’ll be honest, Siobhan.. I would.. I do want… whatever we can make of this. I don’t want it to just be… another casual fling. I don’t want it to only be a fling.”

“I don’t want that, either, Trilby. For the first time in my life… I actually want something a little more… serious.” Siobhan sighed a little. “I mean it.. You’re.. actually the only man I could ever want to wait for.. I know it’d be difficult, but.. I mean.. Whenever we get the time.. We could make room for each other.”

“What about the shop?”

“You could visit me after hours.. During hours. Any time, really.” she chuckled. “I’ll leave the second story window unlocked, if it helps. And you could come and sleep on the couch until I wake up.”

“Well I’m sorry to say it wouldn’t be a first time I’m invited to break into someone’s house.” I chuckled, and she laughed in return. “But.. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…”

“We could make it work.” she encouraged.

“... I would like to.” I confessed. “I’ll be honest, being around you… I don’t feel… as insane.”

“Same.”

“...It doesn’t hurt.”

“...It doesn’t.”

We smiled at each other and were happy. Within time we arrived at the shop. Claire arrived shortly after and she and I began working on the banishing ritual.

“I thought it was just...normal chalk?” I asked as Claire offered me a colorful kit.

“They were all out of the boring stuff so this was all I could find.”

I rolled my eyes and picked out a blue and purple.

Claire picked out a pink and orange.

“Anything I can do?” Siobhan offered.

“Do you have lots of salt?” Claire asked.

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna need that circle made before we get started, so we know what to work around.

Using my grolly I made quick work of the ceiling. While it was certainly enough effort to keep the blood from rushing to my head too much, I couldn’t help over hear the other two as well.

“So… Does he….?” Siobhan asked.

“If you’re gonna date him, get used to this.” Claire simply said.

“...Have you dated him before?”

“Oh hell no. He’s just… Like this. Sometimes.”

“...I still think it’s cute.”

“You two sound like a good pair.”

After getting the circles etched out, I returned to the floor, swinging off the rafter with my grolly and managing to get a flip in before I land, feet perfectly held together. I give a sweeping bow.

“And he sticks the landing.” I say, unable to help the grin.

When I look up I see Claire sneering at me.

“If you’re looking to show off, Siobhan’s in the other room.”

I frowned and rolled my eyes.

“What? I can’t have a bit of selfish fun on this job?” I looked around. “Claire, have you seen my hat? I thought I sat it on the counter.”

Siobhan came back in just then, having put the salt away, wearing my hat. We looked at each other for a good minute before she simply grinned.

“So….? Do I get to wear the hat?” She asked.

“Absolutely not.” I smiled and took it off her head.

“Aw, come on!”

“No.” I sat it back in its proper place. “Besides, it’s not your style.”

Claire chuckled. “Yeah.. I mean, to be fair, you’re more of a uh.. Straw hat type.”

Siobhan shrugged.

“Maybe a bowler hat?”

“Ew, no.” I shook my head.

“Ooh! How about he wears a trilby, and you wear a fedora?” Claire grinned.

“Yes!” Siobhan smiled excitedly.

“Siobhan..” I gave her a patient smile. “If you dare so much as pick one up, I’m breaking up with you.”

Siobhan and Claire laughed. Siobhan started.

“You going to be okay with this?” Claire asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Ghosts can’t even make other things affect a salt ring.” I shrugged.

“I know you’ll be safe, but to be fair, no one’s really done it like this before.” Claire said cautiously.

“I seem to be the first to a lot of things, don’t I?” I returned. “Actually.. I should’ve probably brought a camera. Yarrow would’ve loved to see this.” “If the ghosts didn’t mess it up first.”

“Granted.”

“Look, it’s just.. I know it’s no secret how you feel about this job..” Claire sighed. “..Just wouldn’t want to file a report, y’know?”

I smiled easily.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Kay.”

“You ready?”

I nodded and stepped over into the circle, mindful not to knock the salt over.

“Oh yeah, feel free to lay it on kinda thick?” Claire offered. “I mean, from what you guys say, it seems like the worse the crime, the more ghosts there are.”

“The worse the punishment.” I nodded. “There’s poetic justice for you.”

“I… Um.. Don’t think he’d really have to exaggerate too much, y’know?” Siobhan chimed in.

“Hm? What do you- Ohhhhh. Oh, yeah, actually, that’s true. I mean you’ve-”

“OKAY.” I quickly clapped a hand over Claire’s mouth. “We get it… Claire.”

It finally dawned on her what she was about to say and she bit her lip before carefully replying.

“....I’m gonna head out now.”

“You do that.”

Claire quickly headed out. Siobhan looked back at me.

“...you sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asked, nervously.

“I’ve done salt rings a few times now.. It’s perfectly safe.” I reassured her. “Go on. You should wait outside with Claire until this is over.”

Siobhan nodded and headed out. I sighed and looked around the empty shop. It’s funny. Without all the merchandise, it felt so large and empty, you wouldn’t have been able to tell if there was some paranormal threat.

But now it was time to summon them regardless.

I took a deep breath and braced myself.

“I’m a thief.”

The shop began to shake. Ghosts began to swarm as semi-translucent masses. A few of them came to try to attack, but were kept at bay by the salt.

“I am held responsible for the death of Dr. Abed Chahal.”

The room quickly began to fill with the wailing of ghosts. Many others have begun circling around me, as they did the other day, looking to kill me.

“I am a suspect for the death of Simone Taylor.”

The wailing of the ghosts became louder, and I had to start yelling to be heard among them. I could see Brutus’ strong and darker, more distinguished, ethereal form stand above the others. He began making his way toward me, obviously unhappy with a man with two murders to his name so far.

“I murdered Philp Harty!”

I was surprised to find myself tense. As if I needed to work to keep myself standing there, confessing what I’ve done as Brutus’ large form stood over me, banging on the barrier between us, but unable to break it. Despite Siobhan’s better effort, the circle still felt almost too small.

“I KILLED AGENT ANDREW JARVIS, A MEMBER OF THE MINISTRY OF OCCULTISM.”

Of all the screams and wails, Brutus’ roar deafened the others and possibly shook the store to its very foundations.

“YOU SHALL PAY FOR YOUR CRIMES, MURDERER!”

“IT WASN’T MY FAULT!” I screamed back.

The store quaked and the roaring winds whipped around me. I held my ground and began to holler the incantation at the top of my lungs.

The ghosts began to scream at ear-piercing volumes as the runes began to glow, all around the store. They wavered and writhed and contorted into inhuman forms as they were being torn away from this plane. Brutus’ bellow of anguish caused the store to shake more and I was nearly knocked to my feet.

I managed to catch myself in time, but realized I was now closer to the edge of the circle. I looked up at the swirling madness and mash of colors, shrieks, and death.

And I realized how close to death I really was.

It would’ve been easy. All I would’ve had to do was… stick my neck out a little further.

It would be quick.

I would finally be done.

I would finally be free.

It wouldn’t have to hurt.

“You still have work to do.” said something far back in my mind.

‘I’m tired of work..’

“You’re not done yet.”

But rather than wanting to argue, or get angry at being denied, I knew it was right. I’m not done yet. I still had reason to live.

I pulled back.

And stood up.

“I’m not done yet.” I told myself. “I still have reason to live.”

I donned my mask to protect my skin, and a pair of specially made glasses and pulled my hat over my eyes for good measure as the shop was suddenly lit up to blinding proportions.

A bright flash and a puff of pinks and purples and that was it.

I pulled off my mask and heard the shop door open. I looked up to see Claire and Siobhan walking in.

“Yeah you’re gonna wanna let this air out.” Claire was saying.

“Trilby!” Siobhan hurried over and hugged me. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you? Why are you wearing shades??”

“I’m fine, Siobhan.” I smiled reassuringly and took off the glasses. “Everything’s alright.”

She smiled and leaned up to kiss me. I could hear Claire chuckling behind her, but didn’t care.

After that it was a matter of cleaning up the shop. It was annoying, honestly, how the most time spent on these missions were just driving, cleaning, or preparing something. Necessary, for obvious reasons, but annoying.

“Claire, thank you again so much for your help with this.” I said as we moved a few of the shelves back upstairs..

“Aw, it’s nothing.” she shrugged off.

“Really, I mean it. Let me make it up to you. Tea? Coffee?”

Claire paused and smiled back at me.

“...I’d like that. Thanks.”

When everything was said and done, Claire left for home. Siobhan and I were left standing in the shop, taking a minute to ourselves.

“...So I guess I’ll see you...whenever?” Siobhan asked.

There was a pause for thought, and something occurred to me.

“You know.. Your backpack is still at my apartment.” I lied.

Siobhan looked at me surprised. But then smiled in understanding.

“...Well I guess I better come back and get it, huh?”

“But it’s a while away… It’d be horribly late by the time we get there.” I smiled back.

“Then.. Perhaps you’d let me stay one more night?”

I kissed her gently before answering, “I would love it if you would.”

The End

#chzo mythos #trilby somerset #Siobhan O'Malley #trilbhan #rational writing #my writing #open for any reviews or critiques #holy shit how long has it been since I finally finished something I liked?#n_n

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the-cheshire-cat-grin · 5 years ago

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Ok so I just saw the goldfinch and I have some thoughts. Let’s start with the good.

I looooooved Pippa. She was my favorite character. She was such a sunshiney person, and I loved that I could actually see the chemistry between her and theo. it made me feel like he was actually in love with her instead of like, low key obsessed with her. Their dinner scene? beautiful and heartwrenching. love that she acknowledged her feelings and his feelings, while maintaining that a relationship between them would be detrimental to both their mental health. Also loved how Mrs. Barbour seemed to be a genuinely kindhearted human being. In the book she comes off as kind of cold, which can be because young theo was intimidated by her, but she was such a sweetheart in the movie, albeit soft spoken. Easily Ansel Elgort’s best role. His range....holy shit. You could actually see him feel things, which I didn’t really get from the book, as theo felt a little detached from everything and everyone. Also Finn Wolfhard?????? Fucking groundbreaking. This boy is a natural born star. When he held theo after his nightmare?? Shushing him and reassuring him that he was ok, that he could go back to sleep???? I’m fucking soft.

Ok now....I’m just gonna say it. It lacked in some areas. I feel like the only reason I understood what was going on was because I had read the book, because the pacing was really confusing. Young theo in one scene, adult theo in another. it was very hard to follow. It would have made more sense to make it in chronological order, starting with theo lamenting in his hotel room in amsterdam, then starting from the very beginning, a classic “how did he get in this situation” type of move. Also, the actual heist? the climax of the whole story?? it felt rushed as hell. i knew what was going on, and I could barely keep up. we weren’t even introduced to victor, yet there he was, doing a lot of the dirty work. Also, we don’t even really know who Sascha is, because we were never introduced to Horst (which I’m kinda bitter about, seeing as he ties a lot of the events in amsterdam together). And how did he get back to his room? Where did Boris go? They should have had the scene where they drive back to his place. it explains why theo stayed there. it explains why Boris just suddenly reappeared. Also, the ending felt extremely unfulfilling. It feels like we’re supposed to believe things are resolved just because the painting was returned to the public, but theo still has a lot to reconcile with. He needs to make his peace with hobie, and he needs to buy back the frauds he sold people. hell, Boris never even told him about the reward money! by the end of the book, theo is a multi-millionaire, and he travels the world buying back the frauds he sold to people. But the movie just kind of...ended. Like, here’s the painting, everything’s ok now. But like...it’s not. there’s so much left for theo to do. that’s the whole point. he’s wronged a lot of people, and he needs to make things right.

Overall, I loved the movie. of course it had it’s issues but you can’t expect to make a 2 and a half hour long masterpiece out of a book that’s over 700 pages long.

#on the way i passed a car that had a dog just like popper!!#which made me happy #the goldfinch

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zmediaoutlet · 6 years ago

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you saw endgame! please share with the class! assemble!

haha, okay, well–here’s some thoughts, since we’re far enough out that I don’t think this will be too spoilery for people – but it’s gonna be super long, so it’s under a cut, either way:

Well, it was–spectacular! In that it was literally a spectacle, for one thing. I had pretty lowered expectations after not particularly enjoying Captain Marvel (it was fine, but boring) or Infinity War for that matter (better-made, but the stakes were obviously nonexistent because we knew something was going to be done). Here, though… I just really, thoroughly enjoyed it. It was thoughtfully done, well-executed, and just as a moment of payoff for those of us who have been here all ten years… It was just really something. I saw Iron Man on opening weekend in 2008 and fell in love, and even if I haven’t loved every single movie since then, I feel like Marvel just sent me a love letter, and I was so–glad. What a good movie-going experience it was.

I say all that having seen SO MUCH rending of garments and gnashing of teeth from the !stans and shippers, but all of that’s so very much missing the point. This is the story of *this series*, this great arc that led to this point. The thing to remember is that the MCU is fanfiction itself–it’s based off of characters who are based off of characters from a canon that’s been rebooted and re-blended about a billion times. This is the story this group of fic-writers, essentially, chose to tell, and I think they did it pretty damn well. You can write your own fic where Steve weeps into Bucky’s hair for 70 years if you want to. This story isn’t that, and that’s okay. (Genuinely, if fandomites could take like half a step back they’d be much happier people. I know it’s hard–I’ve been in a process of letting go with SPN that I haven’t really managed to do well–but c’mon. Don’t get so het up about it.)

Some things:

1) I was genuinely impressed with the time travel mechanism, especially as it bounced meta-ly off of other examples we’ve seen in pop culture. Finally, a story that allows ACTUAL alternate-universe time travel instead of boring-ass time loops. I’ve always thought it was spectacularly dumb when the worry is “but if I kill myself in the past, I’ll die now!” Nope! Avoided! Thank you, folks. It’s kind of weirding me out that so many people online seem confused about how the time travel worked, but it was incredibly clean and I just want to high five the people involved. The one thing that seemed like a plot hole was Old Steve at the end, with the implication that he was co-existent in this timeline for 70 years (and did nothing about Hydra??)–but then the Russos said that they assume he went to an alternate timeline, and then came back to this one to give Sam the shield. It wasn’t on screen either way so you can make your own headcanon, but I’m good with that. So: successful time travel. Hoo-fucking-rah.

2) Thor. This was the one real spoiler I had going in, that Thor Got Fat. All this weeping about how he’d been mistreated by the narrative. So, I was pre-emptively worried… and then ended up not thinking it was that bad. Look, I’m a chubster, I’m well-aware of how sensitive that can be for people. What I found interesting about it was that it was, yes, kind of a visual joke, just because The God of Abs was a pudge, but it was actually treated remarkably kindly by every character for whom that would be in-character. Meaning, sure, Rocket makes fun of him, and Rhodey’s kind of a dick (because Rhodey’s like that with Tony, even)–but Bruce, Steve, and even Tony all deal with him quite gently. That scene where he tries to volunteer for the gauntlet and Tony carefully holds him back was so sweet and sad. Poor guy. It was a good exploration of the depths that the last ~10 years of his life have pummeled him into. It wasn’t that he was fat, it’s that he was broken. People will make up their own minds about the equivalencies there and what’s being implied, but it was a good visual metaphor as far as I was concerned. If he were “just” a sad drunk no one would have believed that he wasn’t ready for what was coming, and he wasn’t. But he got better, because his friends really were there for him. (Also, Korg was wearing Taika’s pineapple shirt! I hope there are nice fics where Korg and Maik gently just play XBox with Thor because that’s all they can do for him.)

Also on Thor, re: Thor/Loki – more rending of garments about how he didn’t go see Loki. Let’s think about this: you’re on a top-secret time mission to save the universe (Time Heist!), and you go see your trickster god little brother who, yes, you miss, but who also hates you at this point in his life. That’ll go well. I completely understand why there wasn’t a scene. The scene with Frigga was all I needed there.

3) Steeb: I’ve never been the… biggest fan of Steve. I mean, he’s fine. His character is caught awkwardly between the man, Steve Rogers, who abhors bullies and will break rules to do what’s right, and between The Man, Captain America, who kinda Is Rules and needs to do what’s right but also represents an idea greater than himself. There’s a lot of wonderful tension there, but the movies haven’t particularly capitalized on it, and when they’ve tried it’s been in a lip-servicey way.

That said, this movie deals with it really, really well, I think. At the beginning he’s trying to live, and isn’t doing a great job of it. The plan they come up with is simple, perfect heroism – he’s not representing an Ideal, but he is one: he’s the man and the ideal simultaneously, that striving toward right will eventually create a more just, fairer world. If sacrifice is required he’s willing to make it. That scene of him standing alone against the massed forces of Thanos with his broken shield strapped tight to his arm is like a distillation of who Captain America should be. I’m so glad we got that, at the end.

As someone who doesn’t invest in Steve/Bucky but who completely understands it, I also see no issue with the thing where he goes back to Peggy. Bucky understands, too. That moment where they hug and he tells Steve, so-softly, “I’ll miss you,” oh man, oof. Bucky knows. I hope there’s a lot of pining!Bucky in that fandom, y’all are missing out on a STELLAR opportunity if not. Especially pining!Bucky where Steve knows and can only do his best to be Bucky’s friend. Steve going back isn’t out of character, either, despite the clamoring. He misses Peggy, he misses peace. Who knows what they got up to in that alternate timeline–maybe he and Peg went and routed Hydra early, maybe they saved Bucky, maybe they had a WWThreesome with Buck, whatever. But Natasha and Tony both told Steve to “get a life,” and he finally got to. He’d done enough. He earned it.

4) OH MY GOD, NATASHA. What a character arc. I friggin’ adore the mirroring of her and Clint’s stories. The brutal assassin who gained a family and learned what it meant to love something so much she wanted to sacrifice herself for it–those scenes on Vormire were heartbreaking. I’m also super glad that the movie paused, after that. Someone called her death “fridging” – wow. No. She was a hero, as much as Tony was. Whatever it takes.

5) Tony. Holy shit. In a lot of ways this was his movie–in a more meta way, it was RDJ’s movie, and Favreau’s, and Feige’s. It all started with Iron Man, and that’s where it ended. There wasn’t a stinger scene because we got that funeral and then the moment in the credits with the originals signing the screen, and of course they saved Robert for last. The success of this movie is really a testament to the risk everyone took, way back then. It sure as hell paid off.

“You wouldn’t lay down on a grenade to save your men,” Steve said. How many different ways can Tony prove him wrong? At least once more. ;-; I’m just super emotional about the whole thing. So many good moments all leading up to what happened. Little Morgan in his helmet, Pepper’s faith. Steve’s faith, for that matter. (I still have a tiny pocket of my heart reserved for Steve/Tony, no matter how non-canon it is. What a great relationship they have.) The panic and misery when Carol brought them back, calling Steve a liar, and Steve just–gentle with him, again, and how there was no anger there anymore. Argh.

That’s the thing that I think I appreciated about the movie most, in the end. Despite all the craziness, the spectacle, the easter eggs slinging at you left and right (”Hail Hydra.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!), what I loved most is that in the face of this ultimate goal, this literally universe-saving moment, the stakes were actually felt because the characters (and actors, and script) sold how unimaginably important it was. Interpersonal bickering fell by the wayside; any dumb conflicts just washed away. No drama for its own sake, or manufactured arguments. Just–working together. The Avengers we hoped to get in the aftermath of the first team movie. We got ‘em, finally, even if we lost a lot too.

This all sounds super elegiac, I guess. It sort of is. It wasn’t a perfect movie by any means, but it might be perfect for what it meant to do, and what it set out to do. There were a couple of little nitpicky things that I might change, but they’re so small so as not even to be mentioned. And so many more tiny moments that I loved, loved, loved. It’s the first one of these movies that I’ve wanted to rewatch in literal years, and that’s making me really happy all on its own. I’m just left with this utter… satisfaction. Not sad, just happy that they made it worth my while.

Put another way: when I was leaving Shazam I felt like I’d spent about 4 hours wasting my time. When I was leaving Endgame, I felt like it had been an instant. Just yay, all ‘round. I loved it three thousand.

What did you think?

#ombrecoeur #avengers #endgame spoilers #...i have a sneaking feeling i could get hate for this #pls note that the views above are the sole property of etc etc #i just really liked it is all #just a lot #i keep thinking about it #keep thinking about little moments that were great #and if that isn't a satisfying movie experience idk what is

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