#actor’s mask shares media!

[actorsmask]

"All the world's a stage, and I'm just an actor. Why cry when we can laugh instead?"

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[actorsmask]

@veritas-ratio-rp “dad look”

[actorsmask]

“Big brother is setting up shop again? Sigh… Best to stay far away then, lest I have to clean up after him if something happens…”

[actorsmask]

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actor's mask talks to etsuo! -> @/yxxrei-aoiro

actor's mask talks to hyenapriest! -> @/hyenapriest

actor's mask talks to hanako! -> @/yxxrei-aoiro

actor's mask talks to warau! -> @/w4rau-sm1les

actor's mask talks to simon! -> @/masked-genie

actor's mask talks to the cursed one! -> @/thecursedooone

actor's mask talks to hatsu! -> @/4a-5tu

actor's mask talks to 🌷! -> @/rayne-carnation

actor's mask talks to phyvas! -> @/phy-v4s

actor's mask talks to space oddity! -> @/spaceoddityhsr

actor's mask talks to of-dust-and-scrap! -> @/of-dust-and-scrap

actor’s mask talks to vil! -> @/sch0d1ng3r5-human

actor's mask talks to the ducklings! -> @/chxotic-dxcklings

actor’s mask talks to the stars guide! -> @/the-stars-guide-me

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actor's mask talks to mr-cold-feet! -> @/mr-cold-feet

actor's mask talks to unmasked fool! -> @/unmasked-fool

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actor's mask talks to bronya! -> @/bronya-official

actor's mask talks to underworld-dcotor-natasha! -> @/underworld-doctor-natasha

actor's mask talks to s1lvermane! -> @/s1lvermane-capt

actor's mask talks to ask lynx! -> @/ask-lynx

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actor’s mask talks to the prinzessin! -> @/prinzessin-der-verurteilung

[queers-gambit]

Regular Cream and Sugar

prompt: ( requested ) being cast as the opposite lead to your bane in the next hottest romcom blockbuster comes with unforeseen outcums.

pairing: actor!Bucky Barnes x female!actress!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 8.3k+

note: you know what? this is fire. i don't care for other opinions (a lie, i absolutely do).

warnings: poor references to different real shows / movies / media as pertains to acting for a living. imagination required. explicit language, angst, Lord's name in vain, hurt and comfort, dickhead behavior / depiction of verbal aggression, explicit content, NSFW, barely edited, enemies to lovers, happy ending, feelings are hard, depiction of mental health: anxiety, anxiety attacks.

featured fic movie: Anyone But You (2023) -> watch on Netflix featured fic show: Once Upon A Time (2011) -> watch on Disney+

Lights from what felt like a thousand paparazzi cameras flashed in a blinding mirage, a hundred different voices all shouting your name - begging you look this way, that way, to give a smile; show the back of your dress, now the front; to smolder, pout, wink for them. You were mostly immune to the wave of attention, but it still jostled you, even scared you sometimes; posed as more of a looming threat than anything. Yet this was the life you chose, the media you 'invited' no matter how public you were or not online and in person.

Didn't make it any less easy.

You sighed and smiled prettily for the flashing cameras on the sentimental red carpet, feeling a hand glide around your waist; leaning into the affection despite the instant nausea the appendage caused.

"James," you greeted your costar stiffly.

"Oh, back to James, are we?" He chuckled, hand splayed warmly through the material of your designer dress. "C'mon, honey, I thought we were past all that hostility?" He pointed at a group of cameras, both perfectly peacocked for them; his hand lowering to his suit pants pocket.

You cooed sweetly, "Why would you think that?"

"Just thought we were getting along pretty well, is all."

You sighed and pulled away from him, but let your hand drop into his metal prothetic to guide him along the carpet; dodging people still milling around. The two of you took new poses on the carpet markers.

"Oh, please," you smiled brightly, "that's just good acting. Don't worry, you'll recognize it one day."

Bucky chuckled, "Ooooh, someone's a bit icy today. C'mon, toots, what's got your panties in a twist? You can tell me - "

"Can we just get through the next few hours without mentioning or thinking about my panties, you horndog?" You asked him through clenched teeth, still smiling as if sharing a few inside jokes.

Bucky laughed to himself, "After you, doll."

You sighed and took his offered arm, letting Bucky lead the way up to the designated area your managers were pointing you towards. Bucky charismatically greeted the interviewer, an obvious pompous show to mask the anxiety coursing through his veins. You saddled up to where your team was stationed before the platform, kissing your publicist, Regina, on the cheek in greeting while asking, "You seriously had to fucking match us?"

"It's a good PR look, babe, and blue's both your colors. Just keep smiling," she hushed, offering her hand to help you up the two-step platform. Bucky was instantly doing the same, reaching for his hand as you smiled at the camera set up - reminding yourself it was all for the pursuit of good PR.

"Wow, you two look stunning!" The interviewer squealed slightly, gesturing at the two of you standing with your manicured hand curled around Bucky's meaty bicep. "I love a good matching set, and you two look so gorgeous - very chic, very demure!"

"You think this look is demure?" Bucky teased, picking the lapel of his blazer. "You see these diamonds?"

"Swarovski is pretty loud, draws the eye in," you purred, keeping the conversation going, desperate to step away and watch the premier of the bloody film already so you could leave the event all together. Your diamond-ringed fingers pet your neck and collarbones, bringing to attention the expensive gemstones set in a fashionable web.

"Oh, they look stunning on you!" The woman from E! complimented. "So, obviously - we have the whole matching look down pat. Is this look an homage to the film? Your characters?"

"No, no, just what was thought we looked best in, you know?" Bucky smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist and by far enjoying the forced proximity. "But you've kinda got a whole, you know," he motioned at her all black look, "monochrome look goin' for yah - it's nice! I dig it!"

"Oh, wow, th-thank you," she flushed under his baby blues that your matching fits made pop with an unbearable glimmer. "It's vintage Chanel."

"Totally gorgeous," you complimented, starting to feel the first tendrils of discomfort. "Who're we wearing?" You asked Bucky, "Do you know?"

"I'm pretty sure we're both in Louis," Bucky glanced down at himself before opening his suit to check the label. "I know the shoes are."

You smiled at the interviewer as she continued, "So, I've gotta say, I'm crazy excited for this film, it's the hottest thing anyone can talk about!" You and Bucky offered generic murmurs of thanks, her continuing, "It's all over social medias, there's even some fan edits already out using what they could from the trailers! Fans are really digging the modern-Shakespeare take and the chemistry between the cast. I wanna ask, being the two leads playing into this romantic relationship, how has the whole experience been for the two of you? You haven't worked together, since, what? Some ten years ago or so? When the two of you costarred in Once Upon A Time, right?"

You cleared your throat, "Woah, what a throwback."

"I know," Bucky mused, looking down at you. "We played a couple on that one, too, right?"

You nodded, trying to beat off the brewing chaos in your stomach by answering, "Yeah, however short lived."

"Which, can I say, always confused me - why your character was killed off!" She directed at you. "I loved Alice!"

Clearing your throat awkwardly, you explained, "Oh, I know, I remember reading all these comments after that episode aired, just about how upset fans were. I mean, it was a really quirky take on Alice in Wonderland - so it was kinda jarring to kill off Alice, right? But it was a creative decision I was really excited to undertake, it was my first reoccurring role in a show, first time I got to play a parent, and it was my first big, dramatic death scene."

"Yeah?"

You nodded, "I remember talking with the writers and asking them if we could do it big. They were very okay with it. I honestly miss that show - the cast and crew, everyone was just a pleasure to work with. I'd love to do it again."

In truth, your character, Alice, the lost lover of Bucky's Mad Hatter, was written off the show after a particularly nasty argument with Bucky had you ready to quit and walk off set that very moment. This was a common enough theme: arguments on set between you and Buck, a stark opposite to your scenes together on camera. You're not even sure how it started, just that you and Bucky could never get along after the chemistry read. He was pompous and arrogant and borderline narcissistic; all characteristics that rubbed you the wrong way, hence the inability to get along. So, after brief deliberation and considering you were the one ready to move on, you were to be written off (first).

Of course, you couldn't admit to any of this - it was a horrible look to the public. Especially since it was Bucky you couldn't get along with for the sake of a job, who you now had to convince the world that you didn't despise for the sake of this movie.

"Well," Bucky looked back at the interviewer with a smile, "never say never, we had some good times - "

"On the set of the show or movie?" She asked eagerly. You felt like you could practically smell your companion's desire to change the subject. Neither of you were keen on talking about your time on the show together, not after all the conflict and turmoil that boiled over into today's circumstances.

"Oh, for sure both," Bucky nodded, "but we got to film this movie in LA first for about a month. Then we spent three months in Australia for this movie and it was - yeah, no, it was a lot of fun. The location definitely helped romanticize things. Lot of laughs shared, good memories, fond friendships; lot of really great food, Down Under, too."

You gave a fake chuckle, stomach lurching as your mind screamed that he was lying. Filming this movie wasn't really fun by any circumstance; not when you and Buck couldn't be in a room together without some comment being hurled with malicious intent. Bucky was lying - you knew it, the pretty girl in all black knew it; surely, fans on the internet would know it the moment they saw this interview - or at least, your face.

He was lying. He was lying. He was lying, and it fucking bothered you.

You weren't bothered by the act of lying, per se, but the fact that the pair of you had to lie; the fact that even after a decade, old wounds were still festering; the fact that you knew your feelings for him to be authentic while his were feigned, forced, being effortlessly lied about.

You glanced at Regina, seeing her talking with animation to Bucky's publicist, Gale, and his manager, Toby; as well as your own manager, Darcy, who appeared enraptured with their phone. In a moment, you felt the flood of panic, unable to meet Regina's usually kind eyes; suddenly scanning around the red carpet in distraction as your ears whined a piercing noise. The lights flashed brighter, you suddenly felt hot and clammy; like anxiety's icy hand was creeping up your esophagus, stomach to throat. Your heart hammered, headache brewed, eyes glassy from a sudden wave of panic - and unknowingly, tightened your grip on Bucky's waist. He glanced down at you in concern.

"Uh, but you know, I think my favorite part of the whole experience was just, uh, you know - getting to spend time with this girl right here," Bucky answered the interviewer's question charmingly, hugging you tighter to his side. You were jolted back into reality, smiling and awh'ing at him sweetly as if listening; evident he had purposefully roped you back in. Your heart clenched at his kindness.

"What about you, Y/N?" The interviewer asked with a bright smile. "Any favorite moments from filming?"

"Oh, um, favorite? No, there's too many - well," you paused, relenting, "yeah, probably any scene I got to do with Jeremy, who plays my ex in the film. He's not entirely who you'd think fits in a romcom, so he pleasantly surprises you in this role. He was a blast to film with, just real easy going."

"Woah, hey," Bucky joked, looking offended but still petting his fleshy hand on your waist for comfort, "how could I not be your favorite part of filming?"

"Jeremy actually learned my coffee order," you reminded with a soft wince, watching Buck pause and then nod dramatically.

"No, no, she's got me there - I could never get it right," Bucky shrugged at the interviewer. "One day, though, I'll surprise her," he squeezed where he held you, his metal finger pointing into the camera, "and that's a promise."

"Oh, please," you chuckled, patting his chest. "I'd like to first see you get my breakfast order right - then we can move onto the more complicated coffee order."

"Okay, first, that's slanderous!" Bucky laughed, shifting his weight on the platform and making the woman interviewer perk up.

"Well, it seems the two of you had a great time on set, and so far from previews, it really shows! I can't wait to see it."

"Have fun tonight," you smiled, Bucky shifting towards the steps and offering both his hands to guide you down. He thanked her repeatedly as you stepped carefully in your heels, approaching Regina and Darcy the moment you were on the carpet again. "I can't - I can't fucking do this," you muttered to them inconspicuously; unaware of Bucky several yards away, listening to his team talk, but his gaze was locked worriedly on you.

"What? What? Can't do what?" Darcy asked, looking mildly alarmed; only then lowering their dinging iPhone.

"It's a lot right now, okay? I'm - I feel - there's just a lot," you tried to explain, voice warbling.

"What? You're, what, feeling anxious? Use your words."

"Yes, Darcy, fucking yes, I feel fucking anxious," you snapped, sighing through your nose; hand tight on Regina's wrist. She readjusted so you were both gripping each other's forearms. "Okay? There's a lot of fucking people and the interviews? Jesus, we're lying straight through our teeth - "

"So, just lie!"

"Darcy," Regina scolded, "let her speak."

"You two know James and I don't exactly get along. So you'll excuse me if lying about how much fun we had playing two idiots in love is giving me the fucking heebie-jeebies."

"Babe," Regina frowned when tears gathered in your eyes, fully aware of your feelings for the amputee, "just breathe, it's okay - "

"You literally lie for your job," Darcy scoffed with a shake of their head. "I don't get why now, all of a sudden, it's bothering you? You and Hugh Grant literally didn't speak a single word to each other outside of scenes when filming for Bridget Jones! Y'all went on to say you were best buds on set! But this is where the truth is gonna trip you up?"

"Oh, my fucking God."

"Yeah, 'oh, my fucking God', is right," Darcy sneered. "I need you to do at least three more interviews - then you can fuck off for all I care."

"There a reason you took extra bitchy pills this morning?" Regina scoffed, looking Darcy up and down with distain.

"No, fuck that, she's been difficult this entire film - "

"Oh, for the love of Christ, Darcy," Regina snarled, "she's not been difficult - she's human. Just because you're an emotionless cunt doesn't mean you get to shame and bully your client."

"Doubt I'm even their client after this," your head shook, finally locating a distant entrance. "Excuse me," you stepped around them and made an immediate beeline for the theater.

You heard shouts of your name, but didn't stop - instead, quickening your step to reach the theater sooner. The door was held open for you, letting you pass swiftly; ignoring the bewildered looks of employees and premier attendants as you hustled down the hall to the gender neutral restroom.

Shoving the door open, you gasped while stumbling onto the linoleum floors in towering heels and swirls of blue fabric feeling tangled around your legs. Your hands blindly and forcefully slapped to the marble countertop of the sink, holding your weight in either hand, pressure caught in your collarbones, trying to regulate your breath from the irregular pattern it developed during your hustle.

"Oh, this is - this is so stupid!" You scolded yourself, huffing and sniffling. "C'mon, girl... You're fine, this is nothing, you can handle it, you're not no bitch. Get your shit together, God, you're seriously this upset over a guy? Fuck's sake... Why?" You asked yourself in the mirror with a glare. "Huh? Why? Why're you so upset? Why're you so hung up on him? It's not like he-he-he lead you on! He's been clear from the beginning! And the sex wasn't even all that good!" But the deadpanned expression that stared back at you made you sigh and roll your eyes, "Yeah, okay, so it was mind blowing, whatever - point is, it's not worth getting this upset over."

You had to pause to take a breath, shaking your head as you continued talking to yourself in a dejected whisper, "Okay, so... You caught feelings. Big deal. You've been rejected by guys before, why is this one so different? Why does this hurt so much more?" The quake to your voice matched the tremble of your bottom lip. So, you answered yourself as a barrage of memories shot to the front of your mind and physically assaulted your brain like a bunch of bullies in an alleyway, "Because it felt real..."

You were the first on set.

Today's punctuality wasn't just good ethics but a direct result of your anxiety. You weren't worried about being late, you wanted to get there early to suss out the set, get a lay of the land, establish exit routes - or any means of privacy - should you need it, as well as privately meet with the intimacy coordinator, Maria, before anyone else got to set.

The director was next to arrive as you finished hair and make-up, wrapped in a robe with a pair of slippers warming your feet; sat beside you to go over a few ideas and logistics of the scene. It was all about being this bright, active, explosive, fiery, hot, passionate, borderline hateful cultivation of your character and Bucky's feud; where after a fight scene, you storm off to your room and he follows, the pair of you giving into your feelings and finally sleeping together.

The camera crew and lighting techs showed up next, ensuring everything was in place and ready to use.

The entire production had been rearranged due to the animosity, tension, and turmoil between you and Bucky the entire filming schedule. After months of bickering and irritation, this was the last piece of the movie puzzle, only reshoots thereafter, if necessary. Which made today all or nothing, where if you did this right, you'd only have to do it once. The resort you were shooting at provided a gigantic, gorgeously picturesque suite; which, in itself, was a blessing as it meant limited personnel in the room with you. So, after getting ready in a neighboring suite, where you were zipped into the same dress your character wore to a dramatic dinner scene, and waiting on the set-suite for Bucky to finish his primping. The techs showed you where the mics were and how the cameras would be angled.

Typically, shooting could be pretty go-go-go, but tonight was supposed to be easy, unrushed. First, you filmed the original fight scene to warm up - where Bucky chases after you and instigates the intimate scene. However, when the sun was lowering into position to sink, the director decided he wanted a couple of shots with the setting sun behind you; his artistic vision something you were meant to follow and not question.

"You good, doll?" Bucky checked as costumes were fixed and you both took your places. The idea was to meet in the middle of the sun shining into the camera; silhouettes taking form as the light was meant to disappear behind you, then reappear when you and Bucky fell into bed behind you.

"Yeah, uh, all good. You?"

"Perfect," he smirked, glancing at the crew. "We're moving at the same time, right?"

"Yep."

"Oh, so, uh, I'm thinking when we go back to the intro scene, we kinda lead into the bedroom? You know? Like, you come in, I follow, but you try to walk away and it leads us naturally towards the bed. That way, when we get to fuckin', it's a little more natural than before."

You just huffed, "You just have a way with words, don't you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you someone that prefers 'making love'?" He mocked with fluttering lashes.

"Fuck no, God, fucking gag me - that's such a cringy term," you scoffed quietly, looking towards the camera crew making their final readjustments.

Bucky eyed you for a moment, thinking those were his exact thoughts and feelings on the term, too. He sighed to himself as the director reminded, "This is just the kiss, then falling into bed - okay? - then we'll reset for the other bits. Yeah? Good? Everyone got it?"

"Good," Bucky agreed easily, you just nodding.

The director squinted to watch on his monitor as the sun hovered, calling action, and watching the two of you meet in frame from either side of the camera. You reached for each other and let your lips meet in an chaotic, highly-anticipated open-mouth kiss; his prosthetic arm curling around your waist as his fleshy one came up in view of the camera to slide from your jaw to the back of your head. Your hands fisted the front of his shirt in a show of desperation; one creeping up to hold his neck for balance as you felt his weight shift. You held on and gave a soft moan while toppling backwards onto the bed, out of frame; but held the position as Camera Two worked the angle from above. "And cut!"

When he pulled back, Bucky's eyes were alight with something you couldn't decipher; breathing the same air for several moments before he was sitting up and helping you do the same. You reset with dampening tear-away panties, tingling lips, and heavy lungs.

You did that kiss twice more to make the most of the sun's position before it was gone; using the authentic change of colors to curate a more romantic aesthetic. You and Bucky agreed the colors of the sunset was a much better look... So, you did the kiss another three times. When satisfied, the techs rest to film the whole of the scene, sending your heart catapulting from chest to throat. Bucky appeared easy, even excited, which for some unspoken reason, really irritated you.

How dare he enjoy this when he was usually an unbearable jackass that made your life more difficult for sport.

First, you were to storm into your room alone, a look of furious defeat marring your expression. Bucky's catches your door, follows you in to defend himself, "Hey! You don't get to insult my character and just walk away! What the hell's going on with you, why're you so upset? We had a deal, we agreed to act like we're together for the sake of this wedding. Now, you've been at my throat this whole time, you refuse to have a civil conversation unless in front of others - it's almost like you're repulsed by my very being here. I'm sorry if that's what's going on, but my best mate is marrying the love of his life this weekend and I'm going to stand at his side! You're going to have to find a way to be okay with that."

He stood in the foyer of your suite as you whipped around to snarl, "I'm okay with you being my brother-in-law's best man, I really am. I'm okay with us being at this wedding, I can fake getting along, being a couple, whatever, that's no problem. But I'm not the one who's been outright malicious! I'm not the one throwing thinly-veiled insults in front of your family!" You let tears fill your eyes, Bucky appearing genuinely disarmed as he took a step forward. Your character was notorious for being something akin to a shrew; but now, in this moment, proving to still be 'just a girl', who had feelings and would cry if she wanted to. "You know what? I wouldn't expect you to understand - so just - just get out of here, go back to dinner, there's nothing left to say - "

"You really piss me off, you know that?"

"Oh, my God! Did you seriously follow me back to my room to continue a fight I already walked away from?" You snarled, tossing your shoes from your feet. "Take a hint and go away. Please. You've done enough for the night."

"You know, you always do this. When shit gets real, you'd rather run away than deal with it!" He followed you closer to the living quarters of the suite, as planned.

"You don't get to say that when you don't even know me!"

"That's where you're wrong! I do know you!" Bucky barked, reaching for your arm to turn you around to face him; releasing his hold when you yanked your arm back with a brewing look of betrayal. "I know you're stubborn and insolent, defensive and reactive. I know you don't give second chances because one is enough, I know you're passionate and criminally independent, that you don't take direction too well because you have issue with authority." His voice softened an octave and the words felt all too real; like it was truly Bucky speaking, "I know you love your family and would do anything to protective them, including agreeing to be my date to this wedding just to give your sister peace of mind for her big day. I know that even when I think I've found a way to cope with admiring the hell out of a woman who despises me, I fuck up and say something I shouldn't. Which I also know, can rightfully set you off. I also know I had one of the best times on our date, before things imploded, and that I've finally met my match - if even just for this week."

"Think that means you know everything about me, then?" You breathed, locked onto his baby blues like a bear trap had hold of your soul.

"I only know one thing for certain."

"What?"

"That I really want to kiss you right now."

There was supposed to be no hesitation in your surge into his chest - so, there wasn't. Knowing you had this shot already and much was to be edited, you and Bucky rushed for one another; clashing in the middle; all teeth, tongue, and spit before toppling into bed. From there, it was a frenzy.

Clothes were ripped off - sending buttons and fabric all around the room. Mics picked up every single sound, no matter how soft or gruff. Soft linen sheets were rumpled and mused, pillows flattened. Hands slapped skin in the search for purchase, lips grazed sensitive flesh not regularly touched, hair stuck to tacky skin, and hips ground into one another like a couple of horny teens. Maria called encouragement, the two of you taking the cues to roll over so you were on top, but still in Bucky's cradle. Every position assumed, Bucky was all consuming; warm, safe, embracing, supportive, glorious.

It went on for several hours; the rutting and kissing and moaning and feigning. It was exactly what they wanted: bright, active, explosive, fiery, hot, passionate. Bucky's body was impressive and it was hard to ignore, causing your skin to flush with ecstasy, mouth to water, and fingers to linger. Your moans turned authentic. Sweat beaded from legit exertion. Everything felt magnified and doubled; legs spread to hold his bare hips against yours, breathing harsher when all you could focus on was the feel of Bucky's bulging cock rubbing into your soaking slit. You swore his own stuttered breathing and moans were as real as yours - but who could tell.

When the director called cut, Maria told you to stay put. You kept the sheet around your chest and dropped back to the pillows, Bucky sitting forward with the sheet around his lap in an attempt to give you both a little room.

"You all right?" He mumbled, shuffling over a little before leaning back himself. You tried not to notice how he didn't deflate, never relaxed; as if cautious to invade your space all of a sudden.

"Yeah, still good. You?"

"I'm good, doll," he smirked. "Kinda warm, no?"

"I'll say," you mumbled, swiping the moisture from your hairline, missing his grin - as if he had caught you in a confession. And perhaps he did, since the air conditioning was on and blasting like in most hotel suites; the pair of you heated from the obvious horniness you were flushed with.

The director wanted a few extra shots of you two in bed; naked, revealing tantalizing skin in provocative poses. You were to look soft, content, in love, docile and blissed; so, you gave it to them Goddamnit. You loathed to admit how easy it was to look at Bucky in such a manner; he was funny, making you grin and crack a few jokes in return, the camera eating it up. You spoke of past jobs and vacations while lounging against one another; discussed fears during a game of Thumb War; compared hand sizes and workout routines; then had more lighthearted familial conversations, such as holiday traditions, while you were balanced bare on top of his equally naked body.

From each position, you were encouraged to nuzzle the other; to kiss; share delicate touches that some how felt more intimate than filming any sex scene.

The director wanted two new camera angles of your intimacy after watching the playback; you and Bucky shuffling into new positions as the cameras were mounted. This provided ample view of your faces whilst rolling around in your romp; looking into one another's eyes as Bucky mimicked thrusting, your hands in his hair, of the concentrated expressions you were both to don. There were better shots of your tangled hands, of the way two individuals melded into one secular entity; of slippery lips forming varying levels and pitches of gasps, moans, and groans that the mics soaked up.

It all looked so real. It all felt so real.

For a moment, the director praised himself on his decision to hold off filming these intimate scenes until the end; watching an authentic cultivation of your real and faked hatred coming together on camera.

It was over with several hours to spare until dawn when few reshoots would begin filming, thankfully being mostly family scenes that didn't involve you and Bucky. If there were any, it was truly because it was necessary - the crew having been overly cautious about getting the scenes they needed the first time to spare everyone the annoyance of enduring another day on set with you and Bucky. The director and Maria watched the footage several times to make sure they had enough footage, granting approval that everything was in good shape and you were free to go.

While Bucky hesitated a moment, you accepted your robe from Maria and scurried to the neighboring suite you had dressed in. You were overwhelmed, confused, annoyed, and horny - so very horny that your immediate first action was to unlace your robe to use the lapels to fan yourself. You sought out the bathroom and grabbed several towels, yelping in shock when the front door slammed shut. Yanking the fluffy material closed, you called, "What is it, Maria? What do you need? What's wrong?"

"It's me," Bucky's voice answered, making your head pop out of the bathroom - only to rear back when Bucky was striding inward.

"Do they need us for something else?" You asked cautiously, holding your robe closed with tight hands.

"No. No, I just... Tell me to leave and I'll leave," he breathed, taking a slow step into your space, "but I really hope you don't because I can't stop thinking about you and tonight - tonight was exactly what I had thought would happen between us."

"Gave the writers your dream journal, did'jah?" You couldn't help but tease. His lips spread.

"More like my actual journal," he shot back, catching you off guard, "'cause I can't get you out of my head, it's fucking with me, doll."

"If you're here to charge me rent for living in your head, you've got another thing comin' 'cause that's a personal problem. Now I need a shower, why're you here, Bucky - what do you want? Use your big boy words."

"I want to fuck you."

"There it is," you seethed, reaching for his own robe to yank him closer until his lips were on yours. And his hands, they didn't know where to touch you - be it your face, arms, ribs, waist, hips, thighs, ass, he was everywhere. Bucky's cock was still hot and heavy against his stomach, snugly between you as he backed you into the counter. But you pushed him back upon feeling him trying to untie his robe, rushing, "Wait, wait, hang on a second, Buck - "

"Shit, I'm sorry," he immediately stepped back, now tugging the tie tighter, "I-I got a little, uh, y-you know..."

"It's okay," you assured, stepping into his chest, taking hold of his wrists in both hands, "hey, you're okay. I was just gonna say wait because I'm not fucking you here where anyone can interrupt us." Before he could answer, you offered, "Give me twenty minutes and meet back at my place?"

He nodded with a softer smirk, hands confidently holding your waist to keep you pressed against him. "Yeah, doll, 'course. I didn't mean to rush you."

"You didn't, Bucky, you aren't. It's okay."

Bucky smirked and kissed you sweetly, holding you by the waist with one hand, the smoothing over the back of your head. After letting you go, he watched you change into whatever you wore to set and grab your belongings, drop a wink, and head for the door. He couldn't help but call after you, "Twenty minutes, doll, I'm setting a timer!"

You laughed before the door shut.

One of the perks of filming at destination resorts was staying there, too. You took the first elevator to the lobby and dialed your best friend as you hustled towards your resident building. When they answered, you instantly unloaded instead of a standard greeting, "Bucky and I are about to fuck and I'm kinda freaking out!"

"Oh, thank fucking God, it's about time!"

"You can gloat later, help me now."

Twenty exact minutes passed in a flurry of reminders to use mouthwash now so it didn't taste like you were trying too hard, advice on what to wear (being just panties and a hotel robe), topped off with your best mate telling you their secrets to irresistible blowjobs. When Bucky knocked at the door, your friend screamed in a rush, "Good luck - have fun - put that emergency Plan B I packed for you to work - oh, oh, protect your cervix - and call me after - I want details! Remember to spit - "

You hung up and left your phone on the side table, scurrying for the door before you could overthink it; Bucky swooping in with the opening door, reaching his hands for both your cheeks to kiss you feverishly. He paused you to let the door slam and blindly set the bolt before crowding you into the wall. You never had time to let your anxiety set, Bucky was all you could comprehend - and my, oh, my - what a delicious infection to take over your mind, body, and soul.

Distracted by the tickle to your palms from dragging them down his cheeks, in shock, you gasped sharply into his mouth when his hands seized behind either thigh to hoist you up his body. You were able to bask in his strength, feeling his arms bulge from strain just as much as you felt his cock bulge from arousal in his jeans. Wet tongues slid against each other to dance a sinful tango as your hands seared into any flushed flesh you could grab, legs locked around his waist to keep balance as he walked to the bed. He playfully dropped you on the mattress, holding himself upright and eyeing the peak of material covering your cunt when your bent legs shifted. Bucky grinned and glanced down at himself, starting to work on the buttons of his shirt from top-to-bottom.

"You changed?" You smiled, sitting up to reach out and maneuver him to the bed so you could take over his state of undress.

"I thought I might take you out first," he admitted, "but then I remembered it's the middle of the night and nowhere's open."

Your heart might've thawed slightly at his endearing effort, yet choose not to comment. You revealed his abs and chest at long last, dipping down to press your mouth in a trail of wet and sloppy kisses from his neck, over his pectorals, and the ridges of his ripped stomach - relishing in the feeling of their contraction when your kisses turned more deliberate and sensual. Fingers nimbly began working on the button and zipper of his jeans, hearing his feet kick off his shoes in time for you to begin wrestling the garments down his hips.

Bucky sat up, crooning, "Hey, hey, hold on." This time, you froze, fearing you did something wrong, but his smile was soft and his hand warm on your jaw. He held you still to bring his lips to yours, controlling the tempo into something slow, easy, and delicately emotional. You matched his energy, just enjoying the feeling of kissing him without the added frenzy of the impending intimacy. He paused, lips hovering over yours, whispering, "As much as I need to fuck you, doll, we got time... I plan on taking my time with you."

It was sentimental. Raw. Pure. Unexpected and intimidating.

Fucking Bucky was nothing short of pornographic; the man built like a mountain, cut like a boulder, and hung like a horse, yet still so fluid that everything he did felt intimate and emotional. Like it was truly to the two of you finding home in the other; two lost pieces of a puzzle, reunited, fitting together to create an image of euphoria. He was dedicated to your comfort, insistent on your pleasure, adamant about your orgasms; able to take direction, but not needing it, motivated by evidence of your bodily pleasure; emboldened, driven, invigorated by any inkling of your enjoyment. It was all you wanted and exactly what you needed, encouraging the pair of you through multiple rounds, positions, and orgasms.

To your shock and astute pleasure, Bucky was the kind to engage in pillow talk. He laid on his back, hand behind his head, other idly toying with your hair or tracing patterns on your skin as he asked questions or answered yours. It was easy. It was simple. It was effortless and disarming. Arguably, it had been one of the best sessions of your life due to Bucky taking his time in discovering the way your body ticked instead of just chasing his own nut like plenty of other lovers. He seemed satisfied. Content. Even cozy in your bed. You thought you could grow accustomed the sight of his bare chest and stubbly smile from this angle, curled against his hairy leg with your mouth dangerously close access to his perpetually stiff member.

Like a fool, you thought this was a break through in your relationship - be it professional or personal, you didn't care. You just felt the tides shift, for the wind to change; something warming your heart and pleasantly churning your stomach. Dawn broke and you had dozed into a nap on your costar's chest; not due on set for your shoots until early afternoon, able to get a couple hours under your belt after not getting a wink all night. Bucky laid under you, soothingly letting his fingernails scratch into the slope of your spine, both content to just exist in your bubble for a while longer. However, when you awoke to your alarm, it was to an empty bed, chilly sheets, no note, no evidence another person had even been there.

You should've known better...

"Because it felt real," you trailed off in a broken whisper, laughing cruelly at yourself as a manicured finger lifted to swipe under your nose and remove the first traces of snot. "Because I thought it was real for him as it was me..." A scoff coughed from your lungs, "I thought we had a breakthrough of sorts, like-like-like an understanding. I thought he saw me, finally... But it was all a lie, wasn't it?" You sniffled, bending at the waist to rest your elbows on the counter and hold your face in hands.

Behind you, the door suddenly burst open, ricocheting into the wall - causing you to gasp shrilly and whip around in shock. Bucky stood there panting, looking bewildered and confused, soon wincing when he clocked your state of shock he caused. "Shit, sorry, sorry, doll, I was - I didn't mean - I-I-I was worried and thought something was wrong - "

"So, you came barging into the bathroom like a madman!?" You snapped, hand to your chest - clutching methaporicnhal pearls.

"Yeah, you know, not my best moment, but I was worried," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I really didn't mean to frighten you, I was a little hopped up after talking to Regina - "

"Okay, okay, James! You know what? Just - for fuck's sake, please, please, can you just leave, leave me alone - can you please just go!? Get outta here, please. I'll be out in a minute, just leave me alone." You were trying too hard to stop this - to stop the way your heart fluttered and stomach sank, to stop your emotions from being real, to stop your mind from conjuring his all too perfect face at inopportune times - so, of course, the universe had to send the very bane of your existence after you during an anxiety attack.

You needed to be alone. You needed to be alone to cry it out. You needed to be alone to cry it out and breathe.

"No," Bucky answered sternly.

"'No'?"

"No. You're obviously not okay and I can't just leave knowing you're this upset. Look, hate me later, but I'm not leaving you alone right now."

Your head shook, a sardonic smile blooming brightly; giving a sort of disbelieving chuckle. "Seriously? Of all people? You? Fucking you? You don't even like me, so why're you really here, James? The fuck do you want?"

"All right, down girl, I come in peace," he couldn't help but snap; defensive that his act of valor was under such scrutiny.

"Yeah? If that's the truth, then remove yourself, please. You don't need to be here, interrupting my search for said peace."

"Why is it so hard to believe I'm here out of legitimate concern?"

"Because you don't think about anyone but yourself."

"Okay, ouch - "

"Just stop, please okay? I'm not tryna fight, James, I don't want to do this, all right?" You cried without letting any tears fall down your cheeks, beyond frazzled in that moment. "I don't want to do any of this, actually - this whole bloody premier, the interviews, all the pictures! People lying, people yelling!"

"Okay, okay, just take a breath, sweetheart, hey, hey." He took a cautious step towards you, "Why's tonight making you feel this way? Huh? What's going on? You've done premiers before, what's different about tonight?" He asked softly, seeing the tears surface again, how your hands couldn't stay still anymore. You began to pace in front of the sink; cracking, threading, unthreading, twiddling, and twirling your fingers.

"You! It's fucking you, James!"

"Bucky," he corrected stiffly with a sigh of disappointment, keeping himself still to watch you pace with words caught in your throat. He didn't push you, somewhat afraid of getting his head bitten off again.

"It's just you," you continued as if he hadn't spoke. "I honestly don't know what I did to make you hate me to this extent, but I can't stand it - especially after everything! I mean, I know, I get it, sleeping together shouldn't have meant anything - but I guess you're just a better actor than I am! There, okay? I said it, you're so much better than me because I-I can't just pretend and lie about what happened between us - not us, not this time! And I hate that it's fucking with me this bad, but it's everything right now, okay? It's the matching outfits and the touching - so much fucking touching, James, for fuck's sake! I know we're supposed to be posing for photos and playing this role of two people who actually like one another, but holy fuck, it's so much touching - so many photos, so many questions, so much recollection, all these memories, and so much lying - I fucking hate that we're lying about us - "

"Hey, hey, hey," Bucky soothed, suddenly materializing in front of you and holding both your arms, but let go when you reared back, "woah, hey, listen - listen to me, I don't hate you. It's quite the opposite, doll, but you need to take a breath, please, try to-to-to calm down, and I know you're not supposed to tell women that, but I don't know what else to say right now. Just - Just pause for me, doll. Listen, it's not lying for me, all right? It's not lying, it's me using wishful thinking as a coping mechanism 'cause it bothers me, too."

"W-What?" You put some distance between you again by stepping back into the furthest corner of where marble counter met wall. Exhaustion pitted your bones, hollowing them; adrenaline flooding your system after your anxiety made you feel defenseless. Tears fell without thought or realization. You needed to breathe.

Bucky's eyes were soft, his brows crinkled in concern, lips gently twitching before speaking, "I just, I realized how fucking rude I've been to you - I mean, it shouldn't matter that you never called, I could've! You know? Phone's work both ways, so, I just started thinking how much of a dick I've been - "

"What're you talking about?" You asked, tears slowing but still dribbling. "J-James, what're you talking about, I didn't call? Why would I have called you? You left me! You left. That was a pretty clear message to send."

His brows now hooked towards his nose in confusion, "What do you mean, I left?"

"After we slept together."

"Oh, baby, you think I skipped out on you?" He watched you nod meekly, breathing out, "Nah, nah, nah, I went to get us breakfast and coffee..." He purred, taking a slow step towards you, "But when I got back, you were already gone, on set. I thought you'd leave a note, but you didn't, so I didn't really think to linger in your hotel suite. I thought maybe you'd call or text me when you got back, but when you didn't, I figured you were busy and waited, then that you regretted us being together."

"Wait... Wait, wait, wait, what? Hold on, y-you went to get us...? Hold on, what? I'm still playing catch up."

Bucky stood in front of you, gently pulling you from the corner just to lean in the middle of the marble with his hands warm on your waist and ribs.

"Yeah," Bucky grins, "I went to get us breakfast. Toasted plain bagel with eggs - scrambled, of course - uh, extra cheese, and you prefer bacon to pork sausage, but only if it's extra crispy and if they don't offer turkey sausage. You like either maple syrup or Sriracha," Bucky's hands flexed to a sudden bruising grip, hoisting you onto the counter, "depending on your mood." You were stunned into silence, heart pounding; allowing him to hike your dress skirt over your thighs, then spread them only so he could stand between them, "And of course, you like both hot and iced mocha lattes equally with regular cream and sugar. Because you don't trust all baristas to get your portions right, you like keeping additional cream and sugar on hand in case it's not enough - which is why you think your coffee is complicated, because you go based on taste instead of color or measurement."

Your smile was genuine, curling your hand under his jaw to caress tantalizing stubble; holding around his neck and shoulders to remain close. You hushed, "I know that shouldn't impress me, but it does..."

"As long as you stop crying, baby, c'mon," he whined gently, "I can't stand the sight."

You nodded and sniffled, looking down as your foreheads met; gently fiddling with his diamond-crusted lapels. "For the record?" You whispered, noses nuzzling, "I don't regret it..."

"Good," he matched your tone, "'cause I don't either. But I do regret how I've treated you... I'm really sorry, doll. Maybe if I wasn't such a dickhead, we could've had these last 6 months together, huh?"

"Probably not, weren't you on location?" You snickered, caressing his cheek and keeping his forehead on yours as your tears dried and reality came back into hand.

"Oh, like you weren't?" He smirked. "Hey, I gotta question for you."

"Hm?"

"Can I take you to dinner? Please? You know, do this properly? We kinda skipped some steps."

You pulled back to look at him, laughing, "Could I clean the mascara off my face before you ask me out?"

"What mascara?"

"Oh, please - "

"Nah, seriously, baby, you look perfect, I promise, whatever Jessie used 's gotta be waterproof," he grinned, hand reaching up to hold your cheek sweetly, thumb sweeping away tear tracks.

"How do you know my make-up artist?"

"I might follow them on Instagram," he shrugged casually, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Now, I know this great pizza place, right?"

"Uh-huh...?"

"And I think you'll love it. C'mon, baby, lemme take you there."

"Where is it?"

"Not... That... Far..."

"What does that mean? Bucky, what're you plotting?"

"So, the pizza place, right? I found it when we were filming with Ridley - "

"Bucky."

"So, it's technically in Rome - but - "

"Oh, my God, who are you? Pete Becker? Are you binging FRIENDS, again? Hell no - "

"Hear me out!"

"We're not going to Italy!"

"Hang on, just listen to me, baby, okay?" He purred, gripping your hips in a bruising grip to drag you to the edge, "Let's get this premier done, right? And after, you and me go to the airport - I'll have my people get us tickets, Regina can grab your passport, you know? And let's just get away for a little bit - you even said you've never been to the Amalfi Coast."

You laughed sarcastically, "Yeah, okay, sure."

"You think I'm joking?"

"A little bit."

Bucky leaned forward and kissed you to suppress his own grin; lapping his tongue against yours before pulling back. "Just say yes, doll, c'mon, lemme make up for being a dickhead, huh?" He pleaded quietly.

You hummed, kissing him again, answering against his lips, "Yes, to all of it."

"Yes?"

"Yes - " You squealed in laughter when Bucky surged forward to kiss you again, this time, out of sheer relief, pure joy, and unrestricted excitement.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[actorsmask]

UY, PHILIPPINES‼️ PHILIPPINES🔥🔥🇵🇭🇵🇭‼️

filipino highschooler miku (bisaya edition)

[vintage1981]

The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee Kickstarts Deluxe Blu-ray Edition

The Life and Deaths of Christopher Lee mixes traditional documentary with a dash of fantasy. It is narrated by Christopher Lee himself... in the form of an elaborate marionette, voiced by Peter Serafinowicz. The marionette was custom designed and built by Arch Model Studios, who made all of the puppets for Wes Anderson's Fantastic Mr. Fox, Isle of Dogs and Asteroid City and Tim Burton's Frankenweenie. 

The film combines new, exclusive interviews with filmmakers, including Peter Jackson, John Landis and Joe Dante, friends and family members with animated flights of fantasy from a wide variety of artists including 2000AD's Simon Coleby, award winning stop-motion animator Astrid Goldsmith and the legendary illustrator Dave McKean who directed, scored and animated a whole chapter of the film himself. 

Spanning eight decades and almost three hundred films, Christopher Lee became famous for his iconic performance as Dracula. But he was so much more than just the Hammer Horror roles he is so fondly remembered for. His career took him from uncredited parts in 1950s swashbucklers with Errol Flynn, through famous performances in 007 and Star Wars films, cult hits like The Wicker Man and The Return of Captain Invincible, right up to a lead role in cinema's biggest event - The Lord of the Rings trilogy. Along the way, he worked with everyone from Orson Welles to Mario Bava, Jess Franco, Tim Burton, Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg. 

Yet his story is so much richer than just his career. Lee was born into Italian aristocracy, with a military career shrouded in secrecy and kept his private life closely guarded. Some of his ventures and adventures seem highly improbable yet, as the film reveals, he often found himself in unexpected situations - he witnessed the last ever death by guillotine, was cousins with 007 creator Ian Fleming, he met Tolkien, performed with the classic Saturday Night Live line-up, was a friend and neighbour of Boris Karloff, he was the oldest person to ever get on the Billboard music charts (with his own Heavy Metal album), was an expert knife thrower, professional opera singer and a Nazi hunter. And somehow, he also managed to appear in almost 300 films of both the highest and lowest quality imaginable. 

The film is finished and producers Jon Spira and Hank Starrs want to share it with you by producing a top quality Blu-Ray with great extra features and a really amazing LIMITED/NUMBERED EDITION COFFIN-SHAPED BOX SET, full of goodies, which will look killer on the shelf of any discerning cineaste. The jewel in the crown of this box-set will be a 3D 'death mask' of Christopher Lee designed and produced by Arch Model Studio exclusively for this set. They also want to host some screenings - both online and in real cinemas - so we can all experience it together and you can get to meet some of the people behind it.

Making this film has been a fascinating journey - producers excavated the British Film Institute archives where they hold Lee's personal collection of scrapbooks detailing his career in his own hand, been given access to personal photos from the family archive, they met and interviewed his closest friends and family from all over the world and we've worked with some incredible artists, puppeteers, animators, musicians and filmmakers to bring his story to the screen in the most cinematic way. Whether you're a fan of Horror, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings or just cinema history in general, we think you'll be delighted by this revealing and eclectic documentary.

Risks and challenges

The film is fully edited and ready to go. This Kickstarter is to fund the final bits of post-production and the production of a fantastic Blu-ray and deluxe collectors edition box set as we're all still committed to physical media. Please note that all illustrations of rewards are designs/prototype images. The final items might differ - we hope they'll actually be better.

[dee-the-red-witch]

July pinned post time.

Hi.

I'm Denice, or you can call me Dee.

I'm an artist, writer, leatherworker, tattooist, media reviewer, card reader, witch/magician/occultist, voice actor, and a few other hats. I'm also a trans woman and a lesbian. I talk about all of that and promote all my work here in addition to whatever I'm reblogging on any given day.

Here's what some of all that looks like:

I'll go mask off for the next bit.

This space is my only blog. I don't sideblog, I don't compartmentalize my nsfw side, and i don't tag. Hope, art, anger, horniness, yearning, sadness, and jokes all belong innthe same space anyways- it's human. I won't tell certain folks to not interact because I know the worst of you will anyways, and the rest who deserve to get an education should do so.

Since the world has decided to make my existence political as fuck yet again without my own consent, that means yes, you'll be subject to my own leftwards anarchistic opinions as well if you stick around.

The ask box is still currently open for questions, or just so I can remind nonnies that I don't owe them a shred of decency in replies.

My surgery gfm is still ongoing and in need of shares and support.

Beyond that, i just hope we all survive this.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Red Carpet Ready

AN: So when all the pictures and gifs from the Berlinale festival started to come out over the last week a lot of the folk on the BBE server went, shall we say, feral. When this particular gif appeared, @mrs-illyrian-baby, @buckyismybicycle and I started to have thots. Thots about a cool, calm collected movie star Bucky leaving a very wrung out reader melted in the back of the limo as he strode out onto the red carpet. And this was born.

Not beta’d.

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden.

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Master list 

Summary: You love your job as Bucky’s PA. You love him even more, even if he doesn’t know it. On your way to an awards ceremony he appears more nervous than usual and thanks to a traffic jam you find the best way to get him out of his head.

Relationship: Movie Star Bucky Barnes x PA Fem Reader

Word count: 3k

CW: AU - Modern Day, Anxious Bucky, Pining, Power Imbalance, Explicit Sexual Content (Oral - M receiving, Vaginal fingering), Bucky’s A+ Dirty Talk, Implied future spicy time, effectively PWP.

You lurched in your seat as the limo braked. Luckily it hadn’t been going fast, but it was enough to fracture your concentration. You looked up from your checklist towards the other occupant of the back seat, your boss, the famous movie-star Bucky Barnes.

You’d been his PA for several years now, acting as a go-between him and his manager, getting him booked into hotels under pseudonyms, liaising with his media team and his stylist, fetching coffees and a hundred and one other things. Luckily, he was a lovely man to work for, polite and respectful, but, unfortunately for you, he was absolutely drop-dead gorgeous. You remembered when you first got the job - you’d spent most of your days refusing to actually speak unless necessary, lest you embarrass yourself by letting slip your not safe for work inner thoughts. However, as time had passed you’d not only relaxed, but also been able to get to know the man behind the mask, meaning that you and Bucky now had an easy friendship. It was based on mutual respect and shared memories, and you treasured it intensely. Your friends wondered why you stayed in a job that left you with no real base, flitting around the world for shoots, premieres and interviews. You told them that it suited you. You didn’t tell them that it was because you were in love with your employer.

Bucky looked nervous and ran his hands through his shaggy hair. He didn’t often wear it that long, but he was growing it out for a part, more willing to do that than have to put up with a stifling wig on top of what was bound to be an equally stifling costume. His left knee jiggled,  letting you know his anxiety was on the rise. 

Tonight he was attending an awards ceremony, one in which he’d been nominated for the Best Actor category. That in itself wasn’t that strange, he’d been nominated several times over the last few years, but this time was different, this time there was a high chance he would actually win. Such a thing was utterly deserved in your biassed opinion, but Bucky had been the runner-up so many times before and his nerves were starting to get the better of him. 

Realising you’d been staring at him for too long, you looked back down at your checklist and cleared your throat.

“You’re being seated next to Yelena, as she’s your co-star in the next movie, so at least you’ll be with someone you know.”

Bucky grunted and turned his head to look out of the tinted windows as the lights of L.A. moved passed at a much slower pace than you would have liked. The traffic was to be expected really, the great and good of Hollywood, plus all their fans, out in force for tonight’s event. It would have been more surprising if the roads hadn’t been blocked.

With a sigh you put down your clipboard and reached out to place your hand on Bucky’s knee to grab his attention.

“You’ll be fine, you know,” you soothed. “You’ve got your acceptance speech in your jacket pocket still, haven’t you?” You watched as he patted his hand against his chest, checking for the folded paper housed in the inside pocket of his black jacket and gave you a small nod in confirmation. He wore a navy blue shirt under the black suit and had foregone a tie. In your opinion - and you had a lot of those about Bucky - he looked stunning. 

He was also uncharacteristically quiet.

You wracked your brains, trying to think of a way to get him out of his head. From the corner of your eye you saw him push his finger down the collar of his shirt and give it a tug. You clucked your tongue and rolled your eyes and leant forward in your seat, both hands outstretched towards the offending fabric.

“Let’s just undo that for a moment. We’ve got time, and you’ve got me here to make sure you look presentable.”

He chuckled at that, and your heart soared. Your fingers made quick work of the top two buttons of his shirt and Bucky let out a deep sigh in appreciation.

“Thanks, Doll. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” His voice was rough from staying quiet for so long, his vocal cords stiff.

Your lips turned up at the edges. “I’m sure you would have thought of it yourself, or found another way to get rid of your nerves.”

His eyes, stormy grey-blue, flicked up to yours just then, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. There was a feeling, nebulous and just out of reach, that you could almost identify brewing between you. Moments like this had occurred a handful of times over the last few months, coinciding with Bucky getting over his last heartbreak. His previous girlfriend had been… alright - it wasn’t any of your business of course and you definitely hadn’t stalked her socials whatsoever - but it hadn’t surprised you when they’d called it a day.  However, once he’d started to get back on level footing, you’d noticed him watching you more, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

First of all, you couldn’t be sure that you weren’t actually imagining it. You’d been in love with him for so long it wouldn’t surprise you if your brain had started to make you hallucinate.

Secondly, even if Bucky was watching you more, it didn’t necessarily mean anything. Maybe he was just making sure you were alright and weren’t being harassed by any of the pricks that tended to inhabit the movie scene. 

However, if it was what your brain was telling you it was, where did that leave you? He was your boss - okay, technically his manager was, but po-tay-to, po-ta-to - and a famous movie star to boot. It was a recipe for disaster if ever there was one, even if your heart, and other parts of you, were begging for it.

“Hmm,” Bucky pondered, amusement peppering his voice. “Other ways to destress. I wonder what you could mean, Doll.”  

You giggled at his unsubtle innuendo and playfully smacked his arm. “Behave, Mr Barnes!”

He laughed back and rolled his eyes. “Now I’m in trouble. You brought out the big guns. Making me turn around and look for my father.”

You continued to laugh, but suddenly the limo breaked again, much harder than last time, and you practically flew out of your front facing seat to land on your knees on the carpeted floor.

“Shit!” Bucky exclaimed, and his hands clamped around the tops of your arms, steadying you. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head to clear it and looked up, ready to confirm that you were, when your mouth went dry. Bucky loomed over you and his thick thighs bracketed you where you were kneeling on the floor of the limo between his legs. In the space of a breath his eyes, his expression morphed from one of concern to something darker, and more primal. When you heard him mutter “Fuck” under his breath, you knew that your brain had not been deceiving you over the past months. 

Bucky wanted you.

And although your mouth was still dry, your panties were having the opposite problem.

His gaze, dark and dangerous, pinned you in place, like a butterfly on a collectors board. You made no attempt to get up - you didn’t think you’d be able to even if you did want to - and that decision told Bucky everything he needed to know. Gone was the nervous wreck of a few minutes ago and in his place was a lust filled, domineering man. A hunter with his prey in sight.

He let go of you with his left hand and trailed his knuckles down your cheek. You couldn’t help it when your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

“I think I’m still a bit stressed, Doll. You got any ideas on how you can personally assist me with that?”

You nodded and swallowed thickly, your hands coming up to grip his suit clad thighs. You felt them tense under your grip and images of you straddling one, rubbing your slick core against the toned muscle filled your head, making your moan. He let out a deep chuckle that vibrated through his whole body.

“I’d love to know what images you’ve conjured in your head, sweetheart, and maybe I’ll persuade you to tell me later on, but we don’t have much time.” He popped open the four buttons on his jacket, revealing to you the tenting in his suit pants. 

You shouldn’t be doing this, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You knew what was in there. Had been on set with him enough times in various states of dress and undress - even though you always tried to avert your eyes - to be fairly well informed, but this was the closest you’d ever been. Like a moth to a flame, your hands slid up his legs until they were gripping his hips. You looked up at him again, and he just stared back, expectantly. 

Fuck. You’d never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you. 

Carefully you unbuckled his belt, but your hands still brushed over his clothed erection which twitched under your accidental touch. You pulled down his zipper and Bucky shifted himself so that you could peel his pants part way down his thighs.

There was a dark, damp spot on his grey boxer briefs and they clung to his body, outlining the shape and size of him. You licked your lips without thinking, and drew the lower one in between your teeth.

Were you really about to suck Bucky’s cock in the back of the limo? You were glad that the privacy screen had gone up straight away, to give you time to get Bucky ready for the red carpet, although the you of twenty minutes ago had in no way envisioned this scenario ever happening outside of your private imaginings.

Bucky took hold of your right hand and laid it over his bulge and you couldn’t help but give him a gentle squeeze through his briefs. He inhaled sharply through his nose and his eyes fluttered briefly, before they were back on you, somehow darker than before. You felt emboldened, the fact you held power over his desire making you dizzy, and you let go of him so you could pull down the waistband of his underwear and get your first, up close look at Bucky’s cock.

For a moment you were worried your arousal would spill over your panties and leave a wet spot on the carpet between your knees as you took him in with your gaze. He was everything you’d ever imagined from your brief glances and you barely hesitated before you wrapped your hand around the firm warmth of him and took his tip between your lips. 

You were aware of several things at once - the clean, musky scent and taste of him, as well as the salacious noise that left his lips at your first, tentative caress. You also heard a thud and cast your eyes upwards to see that Bucky had let his head fall back against the privacy screen. You should have been worried about what the driver may be thinking, but in reality, you didn’t care. All that mattered was Bucky.

You explored him with your fingers, lips and tongue, revelling in the groans, grunts and whispered mumblings that fell from his lips. His right hand still held your upper arm, but his left came up to gently cup the back of your head, not forcing you down, but just adding another connection between the two of you.

You bobbed your head and took him as deep as you could, your throat swallowing around his length until spots appeared in front of your eyes and you had to draw back.

“Jeez, Doll. Fuck! How did I not see what was right under my nose for all those years? Coulda been doing this sooner. Coulda had you writhing in my bed, creaming on me like you’re probably creaming those panties of yours right now.”

You hummed your agreement and tongued his slit, before tracing down his frenulum and around the underside of his head.

“Whatever happens this evening, you’re mine tonight. Gonna treat you right, Doll. Gonna fuck you until you don’t know your own name any more, only mine. And if I win? Shit. Might need an extra day and night in the hotel. God. I’m close, sweetheart. You gonna swallow it all? Can’t spill a drop on my suit. Can’t have me go out there with cum on my pants.”

You swallowed him down deep again, flattening your tongue against the ridgid length of him, and reached down with your hand to massage his tightening balls. Bucky’s hips started to jerk, so taken over by his desires that he was unable to hold back from fucking your mouth, at least a little bit.

“That’s it. Take it. Take it. Such a good girl. Every drop. Every. Fucking. Drop.” He came with a guttural groan, his cum filling your mouth as you struggled to swallow it. Even when his orgasm finally stopped, you continued to lick and kiss his cock as it softened, intending to clean it as best you could. In the end, Bucky had to ease you away, and you realised you were probably overstimulating him. He didn’t leave you disappointed for long, though. Easily manhandling you back onto your seat, it was then his turn to kneel in front of you.

“Fucking perfect, sweetheart.” His hands skimmed up your thighs, sliding under your, entirely sensible, black shift dress. The thumb of his right hand brushed over the front of your panties and your throbbing clit, making you whine and twitch.

“You are soaked,” he drawled. “Good fucking girl.”

Bucky leaned into your space and his lips captured yours in a searing kiss, his tongue demanding immediate entry and no-doubt tasting himself as he did so. At the same time, the fingers of his right hand slipped under your panties, and slid through your sodden folds. His kiss swallowed your cries as he toyed with your clit, the sensation almost bordering on too much. 

Then he slid a finger inside you.

You felt Bucky smile into the kiss at your reaction, your pussy clenching down on his intrusion.

“Such a greedy pussy,” he muttered before adding a second. “I got you, Doll. Can’t wait to get my cock in you.”

Your only response was another moan and another clench around his invading digits. When he changed the angle of his fingers, you ripped your lips from his as you threw your head back.

“There it is. Look at me, sweetheart. Want you to look at me when you come.” Bucky’s voice was deep and commanding and you wouldn’t have been able to disobey him, even if you’d had the presence of mind to do so. You meet his gaze from under heavy lids as his fingers and thumb continued to drive you upwards assisted by Bucky’s voice which only ever spoken to you like this in your deepest fantasies.

“That’s it, Doll. Need you to come for me. Need to know how hard you’re gonna strangle my cock later. Need to know how beautiful you look when you come. Gonna be smelling your pussy on my fingers all evening. Hell, if I win I’ll hold that statue with this hand and get you all over it. Fuck! Do it now, sweetheart. Come now.”

Your whole body spasmed as you came, your hands gripping Bucky’s right forearm to hold him still. Up was down and down was up as the world span before your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm. Eventually though, reality had to set back in and Bucky pulled his hand from the clutch of your body.

“Bucky!” You keened, your body still sensitive, but protesting at emptiness nonetheless.

“Later, Doll,” he placated at your disappointed whine. “I meant it. This isn’t over by a long shot. I’ll see you after the ceremony. I’m ready for that red carpet now and it’s all thanks to you.” He sucked on his fingers, grinning as he did so then leaned forward and dropped a soft, almost chaste kiss to your lips.

You blinked owlishly at him, your brain still trying to process what had just happened while you clit pulsed between your folds. Bucky smiled, pulling your dress down before putting his own clothes to rights, including the top buttons of his shirt. The limo jerked to a halt a few moments later, but this time it wasn’t due to a traffic jam, but because it had pulled up right by the venue.

With a much more relaxed demeanor that when the limo had set off, Bucky alighted when the driver opened his door. It wasn’t until you watched back the footage, much later in his hotel room, that you could see that Bucky was re-buttoning his jacket as he walked up the red-carpet, a smug look plastered onto his face. Most people thought the expression was related to his nomination, but you knew better.

What you did agree with the general public on though, was the delight on Bucky’s face when his name was read out as the winner of the leading actor category. You were watching from the sides, having ridden in the limo around to the back of the venue, having used the few extra minutes to put your scrambled brain back together. You stood with the other PAs, managers and media secretaries of the main nominees, all of you with your fingers crossed. 

But while everyone else in the hall whistled and cheered when Bucky made his way to the stage for his acceptance speech, you were on your phone, quickly altering his hotel booking to include an extra night. He had promised after all.

Tag list: @christywrites, @alexakeyloveloki, @wolfsmom1, @doasyoudesireandlive, @sonatabee-blog, @goldylions, @galactusdevourerofworlds, @apenny4thots, @crayongirl-linz, @km-ffluv, @wheezy-stucky, @kmc1989

[deadnatura11]

I think we need to deconstruct the 'Risky Business' scene and take a step back -

I just watched a video where someone put Ryan's dancing and the actual scene with Tom Cruise side by side for comparison and it was... pretty spot on. Like maybe a 95% accuracy rate.

Now from a production perspective, we write this off as a fun homage and reference to an older movie that was probably pretty popular with the writer's room, which tracks given what we know about the bts workers for the show.

However, if we think about it from a story perspective -

Why would Eddie, in his first allowed moment of actualized joy, recreate the Risky Business dance scene?

On its face, Eddie has probably never lived alone in his life. He went from his childhood home to the army to then sharing a house with his wife and child to then only his child. That man has never had an actual moment of privacy. Here he is essentially 'alone' and he is learning how to be by himself, how to be okay with being alone, which he would have had to learn how to do anyway once Chris goes to college. Chris being in Texas is making Eddie reckon with this much earlier. And in doing so he is learning how to take care of himself and his needs. Circling back to the airplane disaster earlier this season, he needs to put his own mask on before he can help anyone else with theirs. He can't be a good parent to Chris without working on himself. And part of that is giving himself the space to be alone in his house, dancing in his underwear, naked. He is learning to let go of his shame, which we see happen by not even bothering to put pants on when he sees Buck. Usually, when this scene was recreated in other shows, the person "caught" dancing in their underwear feels immediately embarrassed and tries to walk it back. Eddie did no such thing. This is a step in the right direction.

Furthermore, Risky Business was a movie that came out in 1983 (and also was the catalyst for Tom Cruise's long-standing rumors that he was a gay man, which I won't get into here, discuss the validity of these claims, nor how it also relates to Eddie's journey). Given what we know about Eddie, he is a 90s baby. He was born a decade AFTER this movie came out. So by the time he saw it, it was not at the height of its popularity.

Like I've mentioned, this scene has been recreated throughout media since its debut, so there were many opportunities for him to learn about the movie on his own.

But the choice of pulling a Risky Business allows us to infer:

- dancing around is something he has wanted to do

- dancing the Risky Business dance was something he has wanted to do for a long time

Furthermore, the step by step recreation means that Eddie has had to have watched the movie, watched that scene, hundreds of times to do it so flawlessly.

Now imagine a young Eddie Diaz... sitting in front of his living room tv... late at night... the movie muted... rewinding the tape in his VHS to watch Tom Cruise dance around in his underwear and wondering why he can't stop watching and why it makes him happy.

I'll end by including this link to an OUT article about the cultural significance of Tom Cruise in 'Risky Business' to the queer community.

Tl;dr - Eddie saying he is straight means nothing as he was able to flawlessly recreate the 'Risky Business' dance scene from memory.

[synergysilhouette]

"Batman: Caped Crusader" review

Binge-watched this show, and I wanted to be one of many people to share my thoughts on this--plus I was spurred on by getting a wish of mine granted from the show. Make sure to check out the show if you can!

The animation is beautiful--I know this is a weird comparison, but soemthing about the animation reminds me of 2010s Scooby Doo animated films, and I kind of adore that.

The voice acting was...fine--I can't tell if it was poor performances or poor direction; Hamish's Bruce Wayne sounds too raspy/rugged some of the time, like he's still playing Batman, and many of the other actors felt like they were just reading lines rather than performing lines, not enough emotion. IDK if they're more used to live-action work, but voice-acting is a different ballgame, since your voice is all you have to convey the character. A lot of performances fell flat for me, but it wasn't 100% unbearable, just underwhelming. I have some people I'd recommend instead (both familiar to the role and otherwise), but I don't wanna start anything.

LOVED Harley (but not her costume)--Jamie Chung had one of the better performances in the group, and I really LOVED the angle they did for Harley; I feel like the media often flanderizes her as the goofy crazy chick, so seeing her actually utilize her psychology skills (like I've been asking for!) is so satisfying. That said, the outfit has GOT TO GO. Gold and black is gorgeous, but it ples in comparison to her black and red look. And a weird nit-pick; when I first saw the stills, I was under the impression she was wearing a carnival-esque mask rather than face paint, and I find that idea a lot creepier. I wish we'd gotten more of Harley's antics--and even seeing her get close to Bruce in the way she did with Barbara and Renee--before revealing her as a big bad to the public. And I appreciate that she isn't 100% evil; she is doing what she believes is a noble cause, just doing it in an illegal and unethical way. I needed a backstory!

Not enough Batman--Maybe it's just me, but it definitely felt like there were some episodes where Bruce and Batman were supporting characters and more focus was on the GCPD. While I don't mind it too much, I enjoy superhero shows for the superheroes, not the heroes; this is why I had a love/hate relationship with "Gotham."

Batman (and Bruce) isn't quite likeable enough--In earlier incarnations, Batman was more kind and caring before becoming more emotionally closed off with time, but here he's that way from the get-go. Not to mention that Bruce Wayne puts on a facade around everyone, even people he trusts (he probably did that anyway; I can't remember), and his session with Harleen really frustrated me because I don't expect his walls to come down immediately, I don't expect them to be this high this early. I wanted him to be a bit warmer and transparent, rather than curt and cold like he's usually seen in the show. I feel like this is an issue often seen in comics, too; people prioritize Batman's "coolness" and thus push his feelings to the wayside.

Using underrated and familiar villains--I'm sure the real experts are gonna chew me out for this one, but as someone who got into comics in the 2010s and didn't catch up on the acclaimed 90s series, it was fun to see villains I loved and villains I didn't know; one of the best things a popular property can do is use underrated characters, since it helps the show feel original and fresh (thus why "Teen Titans" is so enjoyable; the whole franchise is underrated).

Too modern for the 1940s--I can't put my fingers on it exactly, but the vibes feel too modern; I assume the 1940s was for aesthetics, but since everything else feels updated (from the way people talk to Harley and Renee seemingly being open about their feelings for each other), I don't think it was a wise choice to have it both ways. I see no reason not to have it in modern-day, but I suppose you'd have to get more creative with technology.

Barbara and the Robins--First off, I should've gambled with someone that Jason would be a redhead; I'd have made SO MUCH money. Secondly, I'm not crazy about how all four kids are orphans; If I recall correctly, both Carrie and Stephanie's parents were alive when they joined the Batfamily. In any case, I'm confused on why Barbara is significantly older than them when they're all supposed to be within the same age bracket (I think; someone has told me otherwise since posting this, so I could be wrong). Not to mention, a part of me worries that because of the quartet's young ages and Barbara getting so much screentime as a lawyer, we won't get any of them as Robins or Batgirls unless something drastic happens, and/or we get a time jump.

Overall, I think my biggest gripes are the voice acting and how Batman/Bruce Wayne is written. That said, I enjoyed the show overall. IDK why HBO Max dropped it. Hopefully season 2 will introduce Poison Ivy, Catman, Tim Drake, Ghostmaker, and Gardener, since the finale already showed us a certain someone who IS coming to Gotham.

[actorsmask]

@mr-cold-feet @s1lvermane-capt 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔-

obsessed w/him actually

[meefy]

Diverse Autistic Characters in Akagami no Shirayukihime

I could go on for hours about my dislike of how autism is, for the most part, portrayed in popular media - the butt of a cruel joke; autism representation by a non-Autistic actor; or centered around the plot of the story itself, where it boils down to the Autistic person "overcoming" their autism or some outside force "fixing" it (or, semi related, an Autistic character being shoehorned in as a token minority).

I think that's one of the reason I love Akagami no Shirayukihime so much. While none of the characters are confirmed as Autistic, the ones that are quite blatantly Autistic-coded are so diverse and so welcomed by the cast that it's both sweet and refreshing to see.

I have talked at length about Ryuu and why I love his character so much, so I don't want to get into it too much here because I've said most of what I want to say. He is, at first glance, the "typical" popular culture depiction of autism: the male child savant who has no friends, can't socialize, and has the niche restricted interests in science that seem to characterize every big Autistic character in media. But it doesn't take long to see he is so much more than that! His interests in poisons has granted him a field of study and work where he thrives and does what he loves day in and day out. His mentor, Garak, supports him and treats him as an equal, and looks for opportunities for him to grow - as does everyone around him, including Shirayuki.

Ryuu's time in Lilias was so beautifully depicted. The years he spends studying and working there are not him masking his Autistic traits or "beating" them; they are years of him feeling safe and supported enough to test his comfort levels and branch out because he knows he won't be mocked or scorned for it. He has found an environment where he thrives because of his Autistic traits, not in spite of them. And so, as of most recently, we see that he wants to remain in Lilias to continue his studies there because of this. His growth is not reduced to finally acting neurotypical; Ryuu being Autistic has not changed. But he has found others who share his passions, who support him, and who encourage him without changing who he is.

I also want to touch on Kirito specifically, because he is one of the few people Ryuu's own age who interacts with him. Kirito is too young to hold back his questions about Ryuu's behaviour. Why is he running away from a crowd of people? Why has he never had a snowball fight? But Kirito doesn't dwell on Ryuu's quirks; he accepts them, moves on, and focuses on what the two have in common - which is what I would hope for any Autistic person, myself included.

What is particularly special to me about how Autistic characters are depicted in AnS is the diversity. Too often I see Autistic characters depicted in the same way, like the author read a WebMD checklist and created a character around said list. Autism is a spectrum, and with that comes two ends of the spectrum.

Which brings me to Lata.

Although I haven't explicitly mentioned at length Lata + autism the same way I've discussed it about Ryuu (and although I could write a whole essay on it), I do want to go in a bit more depth because his overlap and contrast with Ryuu is exactly the kind of Autistic representation I live for. Ryuu actively wants to work to help people; Lata seeks to work in solitude. Ryuu is open and generally friendly with others, Lata is blunt and evasive. Ryuu's expressions are generally flat (and his voice monotone in the anime); Lata is quite expressive (even if he doesn't smile often, and neither does Ryuu). Yet we see certain similarities between the two; for instance, both have their own niche hyperfixations that they absolutely live for, and neither is totally at ease in crowds.

But leaving Ryuu out of the equation, one of my favourite things about Lata's character is that none of the Lyrias crew seemed genuinely bothered by how he acts. Like, even Obi's teasing is, by and large, in good faith. They're just like "Oh, that’s just how Lata is..." and move past it. Most recently in Chapter 133, Shirayuki is visibly happy to see him. And related to that, the other scholars always go out of their way to include and invite him to their outings - to their banquet celebrating the successful germination of the phostyrias, or to see them blooming in their lab. Even if he always declines, and they probably know he will always decline, they ask. Speaking on a personal note, I am like Lata and really, really hate parties or any large gathering; so people (understandably) stopped inviting me. And that hurt; even if I knew I'd say no, and wouldn't go, people actually thinking of me meant a lot more than they likely realized.

So, seeing representation of people actively trying to invite and include their Autistic comrade means so much to me.

Lastly, I want to talk about Shirayuki. It's not terribly often that Autistic representation in media is a female character, let alone the lead character. I know I am not alone in thinking Shirayuki is Autistic, but I do love its subtlety unless you know what to look for. The long running theory that there is a "girl" autism (versus the stereotypical "male" autism that is most commonly diagnosed and seen in popular culture) is absurd; autism is a spectrum, and just where some Autistics are reclusive, have a flat affect, and exhibit quirky behaviours and interests, there are plenty that are the complete opposite, or somewhere else along the spectrum. In many respects, this describes Shirayuki; she seems to have no trouble making friends, attending parties, or showing emotion.

And yet, she has the intense focus in herbalism and pharmacology that mirrors Ryuu's in many respects; she just does not express that interest in the same, "typical" Autistic way. She reads her textbooks to relax and spends time in a garden (the latter of which is, stereotypically, a perfectly expected behaviour for someone of her gender). It's easy to forget that, much like how Ryuu ran away from the crowd on his first day in Lyrias (a depiction of an Autistic shutdown), Shirayuki ran away from Zen when her feelings for him became too overwhelming. She asks Zen for a comfort object of his when she leaves for Tanbarun, much like how many Autistic people have a particular tangible object that gives them comfort. Shirayuki is also blunt; she tells Prince Raji to act more like a leader she can be proud of, and rebuffs the knight who insults Ryuu at the beginning of the story - her low rank does not deter her. Autistic people are sometimes known for apparently "not understanding" power dynamics and rules (which I doubt, as do most Autistic people - I think it's more likely that the rules and dynamics are simply unfair, and created and upheld by neurotypical people) - Shirayuki's behaviour certainly seems to fit this. She is not rude by any means...but where it might intimidate many others, a person's title does not keep her from speaking her mind. In many respects she reminds me of myself!

I could go on and on about this topic - and how different Autistic traits are present in different characters - but I'm comfortable stopping at Ryuu, Lata, and Shirayuki (at least for now), and reiterating that media like AnS proves that diverse Autistic characters can exist without being a punchline, can grow throughout the story without shedding their Autistic traits, and can be accepted, supported, and loved by others for who they are. This series is dear to my heart, and this is but one (albeit huge) reason why!

[venussaidso]

Rahu Dominant Themes — 𝐍𝐚𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (part 1 of) 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟕

warning ⚠️: movie spoilers

Lord Rudra is an angry manifestation of Shiva who is the god that destroys the universe in order to re-create it. Rudra is the version which emphasizes the destruction of illusions, imperfections, diseases etc. before change can take place. Rudra means "one who eradicates problems from their roots", which rules Ardra, where we see the shadow planet Rahu being at it's potent height. Rahu is always dissatisfied and filled with illusions. With Rudra here, we see the strong conviction to break all things illusory, that are a stain or disease. Ardra, being Gemini and Rahu together, chooses to face the cold, harsh truth by deconstructing it (Mercury). There comes an intense anger and urge to destroy the root of all problems.

The best piece of media by far to embody the potency of Ardra, especially Rudra, is MR. ROBOT.

Ardra is quite contradictory, as it aims to expose truth by ruthlessly shining light on it ("control is an illusion") and therefore breaking the illusion, despite literally being ruled by the most illusory planet, Rahu. Rami Malek is an Ardra Ascendent and in the series Mr. Robot, he plays a cybersecurity engineer who uses his rare intelligence (Gemini/Mercury) to take down an evil conglomerate that controls the world & gets away with terrible world crimes that are swept under the rug. The Ardra character is already established as not a truth seeker, but someone who is already aware of everything and has been long disillusioned. The other important main characters also seem to be played by Rudra influenced actors which I found so incredible. These key characters show different dysfunctional aspects of society, almost critiquing them. Though Rudra is more potent through Ardra, Rudra has incarnated in different forms. Aja Ekapanda, Ahir Bhudhanya - Purva Bhadrapada, Uttara Bhadrapada. And Goddess Kali has associations with Rudra, and it rules the nakshatra Mula - which forms the axis with Ardra (being Sagittarius-Gemini). All the Rudra nakshatras are scattered across the main cast of Mr. Robot.

Another similar piece of media that is linked with Ardra and anarchist/political themes that expose heavy truths of society and elite powers of the world is the film V FOR VENDETTA, which leans more into anti-fascism. Starring an Ardra native.

Ardra faces the reality of things that is usually harsh and too overwhelming for others to bare, the kind of truth that is often not thought of. The series The Boys shows what would realistically happen if superheroes were a thing — none of that Marvel sugarcoating shit. Just like Rami Malek's character in Mr. Robot, the character Billy Butcher played by Karl Urban is already established as one who knows the harsh reality of superheroes (being monsters and corporate puppets) and is portrayed as an angry, disgruntled, dissatisfied person. And of course there is Rahu/Ardra influence.

Ardra is not always about dethroning corrupt powers. It can simply manifest into meaningless chaos, purposeless anarchy as seen in Heath Ledger's Joker who only makes chaos to prove the hypocrisy in people and society. This critical nature is always within Ardra, no matter how chaotic and senseless it manifests.

Yes he's an Ardra Moon.

It's always interesting how nakshatras with the same planetary rulership can share the same themes, despite the differences in their ruling deities. The film, Joker (2019), criticizes how society treats its ostracized members. And the character Arthur Fleck, being played by Swati Sun Joaquin Phoenix, unintentionally (and unknowingly) drives pure anarchy in the streets. Becoming the face of a movement spawned around him, called 'Jokerism'. And these masks, just like in MR. ROBOT (fsociety), V For VENDETTA, make the symbol of the movement.

I also find it interesting that Zoro is a masked vigilante who fights against the injustice and victimization of the lower class and indigenous people. Shatabhisha can act as a saviour in this case, more than what is seen from Ardra and Swati.

The character Hobie Brown being voiced by Shatabhisha Sun Daniel Kaluuya in the new Spiderverse film. Interesting enough, Shatabhisha being Aquarius can also have chaotic, rebellious and even anarchist tendencies. Aquarius emphasizes individualism, roots for the underdog and can absolutely despise authority – especially the corrupt kind (but mostly it's fuck all authority).

The nakshatra also being co-ruled by Rahu, they can see through illusions and have a simple yet realistic approach to things (Saturn). There is defiance there in Shatabhisha, but rarely ever as erratic or angry as Ardra. In fact, Shatabhisha is more on what's morally right and wrong compared to Ardra where a dualistic nature is conveyed. Shatabhisha has a tougher framework, can be very virtuous.

Shatabhisha is ruled by the deity Lord Varuna who is the personification of divine authority and moral law. The theme of authority can manifest in several ways for Shatabhisha. Rebellion against authority can go to the extreme ends of violence and unlawfulness. Or it can go into activism. Critiquing the many issues in the world that are glaringly wrong and unfair (what the modern internet now calls 'wokeism'). Themes of rebellion or exposure in a political and societal context can be linked with Swati. This can somewhat be seen in the following medias:

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗘𝗗 𝗜𝗡 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝗧𝗪𝗢:

[kastalani123]

(if you prefer Ao3)

Drew Tanaka is mean.

She grows up under a mother that cares more for the cameras that follow them around than her. That cares more for her daughter knowing how to keep her posture straight, her smile saccharine sweet, her hair without a strand out of place, than her knowing how to make friends. That cares more for smoothed out and scrubbed clean photos and videos and interviews that show a perfect life, a perfect mother, a perfect daughter, than for her daughter being an actual child, not an actor with a script for every second of her life.

She grows up desperately clawing for any shred of privacy, having given up on looking for honesty long ago. She learns how to keep her makeup sharp, and her walls sharper. She indulges in cosmetics more than most children her age — it's all about keeping any hint of imperfection hidden, any hint of truth buried deep down. She files her nails into claws, paints her face into a mask no one can look behind. She keeps herself mean, because there's only so much of the same drama the media will pay attention to, only so much unpleasantness the people around her will deal with before giving up on getting close to her, only so much her mother can shape for the spotlight without risking controversy.

And then, she's twelve and at Camp, and it's weird.

The kids in the overcrowded cabin she's placed in (no privacy, no space, nothing she can keep to herself) tease and jest but it's never truly mean. Not in the way she knows. The pranks and jokes are too simple, too corny, too messy to be enjoyable to an audience of strangers. Meals are chaotic at the shared table because people push and shove and steal and laugh, and no one aside from her even thinks to bother with proper etiquette — nobody cares for small bites that don't ruin your makeup, for small portions that look lovely on pictures but don't fill you up, for elbows off the table and the correct cutlery for every food. The only rules are: sacrifice a portion to the gods; don't waste; enjoy.

That's the one they care most about, she finds within a week. Enjoy. Have fun. Live your life.

She's not sure she can do that, as she leans away from campfire songs and pottery, from swordsmanship and archery, from pegasus riding and monster fighting.

Instead, Drew Tanaka is mean.

She paints her lips brighter, grows her nails sharper, shadows her eyes darker. She digs and needles and stabs not with a sword or a dagger or a spear but with her words; she begins to write her script for these unfamiliar scenes, just as she's done her entire life. Her remarks are not the soft teasing of the others; they are her knives poised to strike at anyone who comes too close, more dangerous than ever.

Her voice is her weapon, her meanness her armour.

Literally, she learns within weeks, a command falling from her tongue as a dove comes into being above her head.

Cabin Eleven sends her off with a bracelet of colourful wooden beads and a rubber snake that was meant to be a goodbye jump scare she didn't fall for. She scoffs at both but is not allowed to refuse them, so she takes them and shoves them into the heart-shaped box every Aphrodite child gets upon entering Cabin Ten.

Because Drew Tanaka doesn't wear cheap jewelry made by a collaboration of six- to seventeen-year-olds at arts and crafts. Because Drew Tanaka doesn't find dumb pranks amusing. Because Drew Tanaka doesn't like tacky toys with sloppy paint jobs.

Because Drew Tanaka is mean.

And Silena Beauregard is nice.

She's nice, holding Drew's hand as she properly introduces every member of Cabin Ten — every one of her siblings — to her even though Drew digs her nails into her skin hard enough to leave marks. She's nice, coaxing a young pegasus over to Drew to let her practice flying. She's nice, remembering that Drew doesn't eat much meat other than fish and ensuring she gets it.

Drew is sure Silena is an exception. Camp in general is nice in a way she's only ever experienced in stories, but this goes beyond a casual piece of advice on her fighting stance or an arm lent on the climbing wall.

Except it turns out that, no, not really. Not just Silena, at least.

Cabin Ten is nice.

Anders sits her down in front of himself and braids her hair, tucking dandelions and daisies into it in a way her mother would seethe at. Khalid follows her around with a stuffed seahorse, babbling about the deep sea creatures everyone else is grossed out by. Ina shows her celestial bronze nail polish in any colour imaginable and every other way to hide weaponry in places no one would suspect. Sawyer trifles through their vast collection of homemade perfumes to find one she likes, simple as they are in plain, glass jars. Rory pulls her into dances at the campfire and steps all over her feet, his laughter and singing off-key and unappealing. Jasmin paints all over her skin, from sunsets across her forearms to hearts spread all over her face, disregarding the careful lines of her makeup.

They chip and chip and chip at her walls, with cracked nails and bloody fingers, until they startle her into lifting her mask for a second, allowing them a glimpse at the pieces of herself she has long since buried under ring lights and cameras.

They bind her to themselves with soft hugs and silly singing and simple gossip. They drag her screeching and screaming into their circle, into closeness, into softness. They push her scoffing into spending time around other campers, into sitting with people during arts and crafts, into collecting strawberries in groups.

Drew Tanaka is mean.

Drew Tanaka will never stop being mean.

That is a fact.

Nobody ever claims any different.

However, a fact is also this:

She remembers Silena's allergic to bees and ensures they never get too close. She sits Anders down and teaches him how to get his eyeliner as sharp as hers. She follows Khalid to bed some nights and struggles to read through One Thousand And One Nights because he sleeps better with them. She shows Ina the best products for her skin and hair. She trifles through her vast collection of jewelry to find earrings Sawyer likes. She pulls Rory through Camp to show off their matching outfits. She paints Jasmin's nails with designs according to whatever book or flower has caught her fancy recently.

(She wears a bracelet of wooden beads even when it doesn't match her outfit)

(She keeps a tacky rubber snake on the shelf above her bed)

Most importantly, she stays.

And next summer, Anders brings with him newspaper scraps with her and her mother's faces plastered all over them.

She smiles, sharp as a dagger, and burns them as an offering.

And then she's fourteen.

And then there's war.

And then her siblings are dead.

And then Silena is a traitor.

And then she's the Cabin Counsellor.

And then she's building up her walls faster than what remains of her family can tear down, stronger than they can chip away at, taller than they can look over.

And then Drew Tanaka is not mean.

Drew Tanaka is cruel.

(She forgot the most important rule she had set for herself long ago, when she couldn't take a step without cameras clicking and spotlights moving on her:

Give up on looking for honesty.

She reapplies foundation over her blotchy face and decides to never forget that again)

[actorsmask]

Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah

for my fellow solitaireheads