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cillianmesoftlyyy · 10 months ago

Note

could you write one shot of the reader crying bc she’s insecure dating cill?:)

Nerves | young!Cillian x fem!Reader

Summary: Its the night of the Drama Desk Award Show (2012) and the up and coming star Cillian Murphy has a new girlfriend. She loves him but she still struggles to overcome her insecurity when it comes to being with Cillian. Hours before the show, she finally confides in him and he does everything he can think of to make her feel better before the big night.

Warnings: Self-deprecation and insecurity, anxiety, crying, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), after-care. Heavily inspired by the Golden Globes show last night where Cillian had lipstick on his nose lol. This is a fictional story that does not reflect Cillian Murphy in reality- it is purely delusional lol. Cillian is not married in this- no hate towards Yvonne, please.

work count: 2815k

Warning sign- Coldplay 🎶

note: I hope I did your request justice :)

Minors do not interact. Not proof read- sorry folks!

She was going completely insane. There was no way in hell that Cillian Murphy actually loved her. He was the most attractive man she had ever met and the kind of guy who talked very little which meant that she talked more than she would have liked just to fill the silence when they first started dating. She beat herself up about it on a regular basis, mortified how she seemed to say the most ridiculous things to Cillian and watched as he chuckled politely. She tried to tell herself that she was beautiful, that other people found her beautiful, and that she was degrading herself for no reason. But that didn’t stop the constant weight of insecurity settling on her shoulders whenever she was with him. She felt unattractive, like the kind of girl that never got the guy, and it was affecting her mental health.

She told herself over and over again as she got ready for the award show that Cillian had chosen her, that he wouldn’t be with her if he didn’t love her. Once she had prided herself on her confidence and even-tempered personality but she felt the exact opposite whenever she was alone with him. Being in public was a little easier, she could hide behind the absurdity of the paparazzi, she could take Cillian’s hand because he was leading her away, etc. But once they were alone, she felt insecure and a little delusional because none of it felt real… and maybe none of it was. Maybe this was all a fantasy but that couldn’t be because Cillian was real and the assistants swarming her with hair tools and makeup swatches were certainly real too.

They had started officially dating a few months before, right after his play Misterman was officially done touring. They’d gone on a few dates here and there but everything suddenly got serious after closing night, she honestly couldn't even remember how it happened. Now, don’t get her wrong, he loved being with Cillian but like so many girls (and others), she struggled to feel adequate in her relationship with Cillian. He was such an amazing performer and just so downright beautiful that it intimidated her. She was working as an author and happened to go to a party that Cillian was also at in New York City. They were introduced and she was surprised how shy he was, even as an already famous actor. And though she talked incessantly because she was afraid of awkward silence, he’d still asked her out on a date.

The rest had obviously led up to this moment in a small hotel room where they were both getting ready for The Drama Desk Award show in NYC. One of her assistants helped her choose a dress from a local upscale department store and they decided on a red velvet dress with a very simple silhouette. It was laced tightly around her waist and the hem ended mid-thigh. Cillian, ever the practically dressed man, wore a simple tux and styled his hair with a sticky product. Once they were dressed, their assistants left, telling them that a car would arrive to take them to the show. Cillian stepped out of the bathroom where he was checking his hair and snapped off the bright yellow light, his eyes fell on her.

“Wow, look at you,” Cillian smiled as she turned around in the mirror, checking that the back looked ok.

“Do you like it?” She laughed self-consciously and put her hands on her hips.

“Mhm, it's beautiful.” He licked his lips and she blushed deeply, feeling the rush of blood through her body like a little girl with a crush.

“Hey, hey, come here! You’re blushing,” Cillian caught her wrist and pulled her around to face him. She looked to the side, smiling. “That’s so cute.”

“Stop it, Cill,” she swatted him away but he caught her waist between his palms and held her still, his piercing blue eyes holding her like a magnet.

“What’s wrong?” His smile softened and he ran his thumbs across her velvet bodice. She took a deep breath and tried to smile normally.

“I’m just nervous,” she shrugged.

“About being in front of so many people?”

“No, not really. I don’t mind that so much.”

“Then why are you nervous?” He furrowed his brow and shifted his weight on his feet, stepping closer.

“I’m,” she started but his closeness distracted her. He was so close that his breath dragged across her forehead and displaced some of her hair. They’d only had sex twice because it was still so early in their relationship. She had an apartment in New York but Cillian had gotten a room in a hotel nearby as well, not wanting to force himself into her private life. When he was doing Misterman he stayed with a friend and had visited her only a few times when their schedules aligned. In their absence from one another, a sense of sexual depravity heightened between them. Even just thinking about Cillian in bed with her made her catch her breath, nearly choking on her own oxygen.

“I’m just,” she started again, her eyes caught on Cillian’s lips. Cillian’s eyes were on her’s and she shivered under his gaze. “I’m just nervous being around you.” She finished finally and looked up at him for his reaction. He snapped away from his trance and raised an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

She shook her head, not breaking eye contact. Her hands clasped around his forearms, his hands still tight around her waist.

“It's just hard to be vulnerable, you know? It’s hard being with someone else when you’re more comfortable being by yourself. And… well, sometimes I don’t feel good enough to be with you.” She started to cry and wiped the tears quickly from her face, embarrassed. His concern changed to a wide smile.

“Ah,” Cillian threw back his head and laughed lightly, his dark hair shifting from his forehead, “really? You don’t think you’re good enough to be with me? Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. You’re a best-selling author and smart as hell, I’m fucking intimidated by you.” He moved his hands to cup her face, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh on her cheeks.

“But you’re Cillian Murphy.” She emphasized and moved her hands to his belt loops.

“Then remember, sweetheart, that you’re Cillian Murphy’s girl.” She smiled, adding a self-deprecating emphasis on his own name. She blushed again and he laughed, “you’re blushing again!”

“Jesus christ,” she hid her face in her hands and turned away. Cillian laughed and kissed her bare shoulder. When she pulled her hands away from her face, he wrapped his arms around her chest from behind. They stared at each other in the mirror.

“I think you’re going to win, Cill.” She whispered with a closed smile. He scoffed jokingly.

“I’m flattered but I really doubt it.”

“I think you will.” She shrugged.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and leaned back against him. He licked his lips and smiled slyly.

“Well, then if I win, as you say I will, I want to spend the night with you.”

“Oh? Is that the deal?” She laughed and resisted his strong hold around her, “what happens if you lose?” She frowned jokingly.

“Hmm,” he thought, “maybe you’ll still fuck me because you feel so bad for me.” “Do you really want me, Cillian?” She asked seriously and he paused, watching her closely.

“Do you not believe me?” He asked seriously back, his eyebrow raised.

“No, not really,” she whispered and he looked at her sadly for a moment, trying to understand where this insecurity came from and what he could do to relieve its pressure on her psyche. He looked down at his watch and stepped away from her, leaving her in the center of the mirror’s reflection.

“Take off your dress.” He whispered, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She shook her head.

“What?”

“Take it off, darling.”

She looked down at her dress and then back at him. He stood patiently behind her, waiting.

“We have time so do as I ask, please.” He nodded to her dress, “take it all off.”

She very slowly undid the ties at her back, loosening the dress around her waist. She kicked off her flats and took a deep breath before letting her dress slip from her chest down to the carpeted floor. She was left in her bra and underwear, both red to hide beneath the red dress. He sighed deeply, his pupils expanding childishly. He sat back on the edge of the bed and rested his head in his palm.

“Go on.” He encouraged and she reached behind her back, undoing the bra and casting it to the side. Then she removed her underwear, standing completely nude in the mirror. Her heart pounded against her chest.

“This, this is why I want you.” He nodded to her body. He stood and stopped behind her, his hand reaching around to her navel. “I’ve been thinking about you for so long, it was driving me crazy.” He whispered against her ear. His hand trailed up her stomach to her top rib and stayed there, not yet touching her breast.

“Every part of you is perfect,” he continued, his hand sliding down to her thighs and then up to her breasts where he finally cupped them. Every ridge and roll of fat fell below his hand as he explored her body. She shuttered.

She suddenly felt a small surge of confidence. “Do you masturbate about me?”

He looked at her and smiled shyly, “yeah… yeah.” He shook his head, “like I’m a fucking teenage boy. I feel like I need you all the time.” He gasped quietly against her bare skin.

She turned and pressed herself against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him giddily and he smiled against her lips. His hand cupped her cunt as he kissed her back. She gasped at his touch and unbuttoned his pants. He kicked off his loafers and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he laid her down on the hotel’s bed. She could feel his erection against her cunt as she fell onto the soft mattress. She sat up and pushed his dress jacket from his shoulder and tossed it carefully to the side. He was still in his dress shirt and bowtie as he pulled his erection from his underwear. She pulled him down to her mouth and continued to kiss him as he rubbed her clit, warming her up.

“Fuck, Cillian.”

“Yeah?” He whispered against her lips.

“God, I love you.” She gasped as he pushed his cock against her cunt and he smiled, his eyes closed.

“I love you too.” He exhaled and pushed inside her with a gentle thrust. She whimpered from the sudden intrusion and he gasped. He held her hips and fucked her deeper, still going slow and allowing her body to get used to him.

“This is so good, Jesus Christ. Are you ready?” He looked down at her and she nodded quickly. He licked his lips and started to fuck her faster, their bodies hitting eachother more aggressively as he sped up. She whimpered in pleasure and he exhaled in short bursts, already panting. He pulled out and crawled onto the bed below her. With one hand he pulled her farther up on the bed and the other he positioned her hips again. He thrusted inside again and grabbed the headboard, digging his fingers into the padded surface.

“Shit, Cillian I’m going to cum!” She whimpered, her thighs flexed against his pale hips. He shuttered and looked down at her.

“No, not yet. I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.” He cooed and slowed down. He slipped his arms beneath her and laid his palms flat on the mattress. He held her hip up with one hand and moved in and out slowly, pushing as deep as she would allow him to go.

“Fuck…” she gasped and dug her nails into his back helplessly. She felt a pleasurable shock shoot from between her legs and she covered her mouth to muffle her loud moans.

“Oh you poor thing, you had to cum, didn’t you? You couldn't wait for me. So you’ll just have to cum twice, ok?” He panted and she nodded, tears filling her eyes and he snapped his hips back against her. He fucked her faster, panting from the pleasure. He grabbed the bottom of the headboard and pulled himself deeper inside her and she threw her head back in pleasure.

“Fucking hell, look at you,” He stroked her hair and continued fucking her fast, drawing out loud and pitiful moans from his throat. “You’re so good for me. God, I love you. You’re my girl.” He muttered deliriously, her walls closing around him and her thigh pulling him closer. The bed rocked beneath them.

“Harder, Cillian. Please!” She begged, a small spot of drool collecting at the corner of her mouth. He smiled and went deeper, hitting the base of her uterus with fast and rough thrusts. He got sloppier and she gasped against her hand. He kissed her and when she opened her mouth in a moan, he sucked her tongue. She licked his upper lip when he threw his head back in pleasure.

“I’m going to cum, fuck!” He panted and gave a final thrust into her. As he finished, she squirted and shuttered from the violent pleasure. He pulled out with a proud laugh and kissed her. He climbed off the bed and pulled her down to the edge of the bed by her ankle.

“What are you doing now?” She giggled.

“Cleaning up, darling.” He lowered himself to his knees and spread her legs with his sweaty palms. He looked at her for a second before licking her cunt, twirling his tongue against her clit. She was already so sensitive that she arched her back and bit down on her finger to stop herself from literally screaming. He used a flat tongue to clean the cum from her body and sucked softly on her clit. She tugged at his hair, gasping in exhausted pleasure. He held her hips in place as he dug her heels into the mattress, her feet flexed completely. He continued to lick when she orgasmed, cleaning her completely. Then with a proud smile, he put on his underwear and went to the bathroom. He came back with a damp washcloth and lifted one of her legs, wiping the soft inside of her thigh. He did the same to the other as she panted. She sat up and kissed him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“I love you.” He responded and kissed her on her forehead before handing her dress back to her. She quickly put her dress back on and fixed her makeup. She applied a red lip gloss and brushed her hair away from her face. Cillian put his pants and shoes back on before pulling on his jacket and straightening the front. A knock sounded at the door and Cillian nodded at her as if nothing had happened.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” She smiled and grabbed her purse. He took her hand and they walked down to the parking lot where the car was waiting to take them to the award ceremony. His hand stayed in her’s, their fingers linked. She rested against his chest and he kissed the top of her head. The venue was lit up and crowded with paparazzi and cars. This was the first time that she would be seen with Cillian at any of his events. He helped her out of the car and put a protective hand behind her back, leading her through the crowd to the entrance. Once inside, they were shown to their table and she shifted her foot closer to his, wanting to be as close as possible. People snapped their picture and introduced themselves to her, Cillian introduced her as his girlfriend and she blushed each time, prompting a playful pinch from Cillian.

She squeezed his thigh when the nominees were announced for his category.

“And the award for outstanding solo performance is…” The announcer looked down at the envelope and smiled at the audience, “Cillian Murphy, Misterman!” Everyone applauded and Cillian turned to her, kissing her in his moment of excitement and happiness. She kissed him back and laughed when he pulled away. Her lip gloss was smeared across his lips.

“You have lip gloss on your face now!” She whispered as he stood.

“Perfect.” He whispered in her ear and walked shyly to the stage, taking the award with shy nods, his eyes finding her’s in the audience, smudges of red across his mouth. She was his.

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian fluff #cillian fanfic #fanfic

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admirange · 1 month ago

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Ok this is a hot take and I know for a fact people will get mad at me, but after playing the 8th episode, I don't think it was that bad people were saying it was.

Maybe because all my friends, even family tease eachother in similar ways like the office scene in the episode, just funnier bc yk. Irl jokes are always funnier. And before anyone mentions it, I also do have traumas from harrassment, fucked me up hard, still couldn't heal from it entirely. I just didn't see this episode that way. And no, I did not enjoy every aspect of the story.

First of all, I saw a lot of people calling the characters coworkers, and while that's true, it's mentioned sooo many times in the episodes that they are friends. Some are childhood friends even. That's a pretty important information to add.

As I said, the office teasing was pretty lighthearted imo. I already made this example but will say it again, how many sitcom series do these same things? And do we get mad at the writers for it? (I'm sure some people are, but not the average person). If Roy was really uncomfortable with the jokes I'm sure he would've told everyone and they'd stop. But again, it's just teasing between friends.

Now onto the next part, I do agree spying on him is not right. I took the route of going but telling him about it, so idk what happened if you didn't. But he didn't seem angry throughout the episode. The characters being excited about it was kinda weird I admit that one, but couldn't help but draw a comparison between this and How I met your mother. It's my fav sitcom, and the characters sometimes get excited to humiliate/tease eachother as well. Would it be acceptable irl? Not at all. But it's fictional. I think it's important to see how the victim sees these situations as well, and as I said, I didn't feel like Roy was uncomfortable.

However I agree this episode is on thin ice since everyone's boundaries are different. Sexual jokes are too early to make. The main issue is still beemoov rushing everything.

Well I feel like I also have to add that it's usually hard for me to get angry with fictional stories. If it's bad, I just leave. Come on people, you're getting mad at an otome game. It really seems ridiculous when we take a few steps back. No, I'm not saying forming negative opinions is not allowed, it very much is, I did too in this post. But I've seen so hateful comments lately (okay not just lately, I see it under every post about Eric too), it's not normal to be this mad about a game.

Beemoov probably already saw the complaints, they said the episodes can't be rewritten once published, and I believe they'll probably try to do better in the future. I'm not being naive, I know their stuff, good and bad (mostly bad), been playing for 10 years. They are currently working on redoing the style contest voting as well, because we complained.

The point is, just try not being this hateful. I completely understand being pissed at beemoov, we have reasons for that. But attacking other players for their opinions, really? This behaviour is ruining the fandom, not the company.

#mclng #mcl new gen #mcl #my candy love new gen #my candy love

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wyldblunt · 5 months ago

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Hi, it is 6 AM here and I have to sleep but I'm writing to you to let you know that I'm very concerned about what I've been reading in the past day.

I heard of the gwg/Logan incident on the day of it happening, but that's not really what I'm worried about. What concerns me is what seems like a consistent & long term systematic marginalization of POC in GW2 fan spaces. To be honest I'm not that surprised, I've had my suspicions since 2020.

I'm not active on GW2 tumblr or any social media at all, other than posting the Tyria Pride announcements once a year, so I don't have much impact outside of the Tyria Pride discord, but I still want to do something. I have some ideas, and am also always open to suggestions.

I would love to chat at some point (it doesn't have to be now, and I totally get it if you're not interested). The Tyria Pride discord isn't huge but it isn't small either, and maybe I have some influence that I can use for good.

Lelling

Tyria Pride Lead

P.S.: I know this can be a source of exhaustion so please do not worry about tone policing yourself or rewording your reply for ages to be "just right", if you do reply to me. (I just spent an hour doing that so I get it, it is now 7 AM). I'm on your side. I'll meet you where you're at.

hey — i hope you don't mind that i'm posting this publicly, but i want to because waking up to this message was a huge relief to me. and as i've tried to explain in other conversations about this, i KNOW there are LOTS of people who have been really uncomfortable through this entire convo but have not felt willing or able to speak up publicly (bc of open threats of ostracization for "being mean" AND observed behavior towards those of us who have said anything) and i hope that reading this will be a relief to them too.

thank you not only for reaching out but also for GETTING what our actual concerns are, bc one of my biggest frustrations through all of this has been people repeatedly twisting the issue so they can dismiss it as squabbling about fiction and then they don't actually have to address the broader patterns we're talking about here; thank you for the assurance that i won't be tone policed, because that's been repeatedly used against us as well ("okay i guess you guys are making some good points but you're being so ANGRY"); and thank you for acknowledging how tiring this is, because i've been made to feel like if i don't keep showing up and being vocal about this, leaving behind mostly the white allies who have been sticking up for us and using their privilege to make corrections and take some of the brunt of the ridicule and backlash, the whole thing will be dismissed as a non-issue anyway. and frankly i don't fucking want to anymore! i'm tired lol!

but i also wanted to springboard off this really kind and reassuring message from you to say it isn't the only one i've received, and that as angry and exhausted as i am, i want to highlight and acknowledge that i have NOT been alone in this. people have been checking in on me, listening to what i and others have to say about it and boosting our statements, changing their minds if they jumped to conclusions earlier, and offering private support and conversation among those of us who still don't feel comfortable braving the environment out here on tumblr — obviously the bad experiences i've had through this are sticking in my head and are really demoralizing, but honestly in terms of quantity and quality i have had MORE experiences of people supporting me and making sure i'm okay. this fandom has massive problems but it also has more of a solid, positive core than i was willing to hope for in the beginning.

i spoke up initially because it was horrible how isolated i felt when this all kicked off; the wider problem is absolutely not fixed, but i can confidently say i don't feel alone or abandoned anymore, and that gives me a ton of hope for figuring this out.

#i will be hitting you up!#but for now thisll probably be the last thing i say about this here unless something insanely infuriating happens. lol #im just glad that i can kind of end it on a positive note. NOT what i was expecting at the start of this

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feywildfox · 10 months ago

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Extreme unpopular (but 100% correct) opinion that jason todd and dick grayson fucking nasty style is not incest and the brainworms the dc batfam fandom has aquired that run so fucking ridiculously deep is actively ruining creativity and comfort in the fandom.

Y'all think UNRELATED foster/adopted kids who know each other either a little bit or a lot a bit is INCEST. Please please please for the sake of yourself and everyone around you go actually speak to a therapist or pending that, PEOPLE WHO EXIST IN THE WORLD.

The puritan mindset is killing your joy and wonder and connections to other people. Sure it /could/ be a little weird if THEY WERE REAL PEOPLE but theyre fiction for one, and two you do know this sort of thing happens in real life right. Like you know there is no such thing as black and white thinking. You know that real human experience is so varied and vast that to condemn something you personally find morally repugnant is just making you like not only childish but also like a complete asshole. You know that right?

Im not saying you have to like it! I am not trying to force it down your throat ! You do not need to agree with me that jaydick is a good ship!

But using your personal dislike and squick at the ship, and other batfam ships, to bully and condemn people who DO enjoy those things, into renouncing those things bc they are afraid of getting dogpiled is like, an OBJECTIVELY shitty thing to do.

Anyways jay fucks dick nasty style on top of bruces desk all day yall go check out my character study on jason todd and his reaction to "what would happen if the joker killed someone jay cares about in front of him" called drowned dogs and chain fences on ao3 much love stay hip keep on enjoying what you like and dont be afraid to enjoy it xoxoxo

#batfam #batfamily #dc batman #dc batfam #dick grayson #nightwing #jason todd #red hood #fox screams into the uncaring void of a fandom they dont care about #fox squawks

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nightcolorz · 3 months ago

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it's so crazy that people are out here making literal terf arguments over a fictional gay couple

also it was taking me out how that reply was literally citing examples of Louis' textual racial oppression as evidence of him being a subtextual woman like is that really what we're doing now?? Lestat owns the Azalea on paper because Louis can't own it as a black man during Jim Crow not because Lestat is equally invested in running the business as The Man like it's 1000% Louis' thing, and ignoring the strategic ways he operates his business black man just bc you're uncomfortable with the moral nature of that business is so blatantly insulting to Louis character and agency it's ridiculous. Like if Louis is a woman the majority of these people are being unironically sexist towards her because they like the boring self-insert wattpad version of her they created in their heads rather than the actual character.

sorry for the rant you can feel free to ignore it but that was driving me crazy

don’t apologize for the rant I’m so happy u sent me the rant bcus now I feel like I’m not crazy 😭😭. I didn’t actually read that one reply bcus the weird font changes gave me a migraine, but I skimmed enough to know what their thesis was 💀.

the terf shit is genuinely insane. I think a lot of this interpretation comes down to cis women with internalized sexism and transphobia (and racism cough cough) choosing to interpret Louis and lestats relationship in a way that aligns with their heteronormative narrow minded view of relationships (especially abusive ones) bcus they r unable to interpret a story about a gay black man being domestically abused by a flamboyant white man in a way that doesn’t revolve around the oppression of cis women bcus they believe that cis women are the central and only victims of oppression and domestic violence.

even tho it is explicitly shown to us that Lestat is able to abuse louis bcus louis is socially oppressed as a black man and lestat has societal power over him, ppl feel the need to put this “he’s also a metaphor for women” angle on it bcus they don’t want to confront the reality that men, especially men who are oppressed bcus of race or queerness or disability or any number of things, can be abused by their partners, and often are. I’ve noticed a lot of cis women have a problem with acknowledging that men can and do experience oppression that is “for women”. Domestic violence is often leveraged against women, but men are also victimized by it too, and stories about men who r abused deserve to be told without being “secretly about women”. This is especially weird since Louis is a black man, and I think a lot of this interpretation is happening bcus a lot of ppl subconsciously believe that black men can’t be victims of abuse or violence without being somehow women. Which is fucked up, obviously. It also undermines the actual story being told about a black man trying to navigate abuse and power structures by suggesting it’s actually about misogyny, bcus the implication is that misogyny is more important or legitimate then a black man’s experience and therefore he is just a mouth piece for a “real issue”

this is also why I think ppl argue lestat can’t be feminine bcus he abused Louis. They think that a feminine person can’t be an abuser, so they think that when I say lestat is feminine, im actually invaliding that he’s an abuser and suggesting he’s actually not abusive (bcus he’s fem). Believe it or not, u can be feminine and flamboyant or be a woman and at the same time be domestically violent against ur partner. Lestat’s feminine self expression and behavior is completely irrelevant to him being abusive, and he can be abusive and leverage his privilege over Louis while still being a feminine person. I think cis women have a problem with this bcus they are frightened to admit that they are capable of being instigators of violence despite being women/feminine . So friendly reminder, femininity is not the same as being morally good or pure, and femininity and victimhood are not the same. Trying to paint lestat as this embodiment of masculine and patriarchal ideals when he is very much a feminine queer man just bcus u insist that abuse has to fit into ur narrow minded view of what an abuser and a victim looks like is well, ignorant.

so Ppl who r socially oppressed are often victimized, and women are often victimized bcus they are socially oppressed, but Louis is socially oppressed and and that does not make him a women. Got it? 💀

It’s also important to acknowledge that Louis is a pimp who uses the victimization of women to gain social status and money for himself. Equating his suffering with the suffering of women is just not accurate when the show explicitly demonstrates to us that Louis is able to use the victimization of women to his advantage. Louis still operates within the patriarchy as a man, and him being abused by another man doesn’t make him less of a man, doesn’t make him akin to a woman thematically, and doesn’t mean he experiences misogyny the way women do in the narrative

(also, just a disclaimer, I’m not talking about ppl who headcanon Louis as trans or gnc or feminine, that is all awesome and a great way to express urself and how u relate to him. What I’m talking about is ppl who say that iwtv is thematically about domestic abuse against women bcus Louis is presented as the woman in the relationship since he’s abused by lestat )

#Iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #louis de pointe du lac #lestat de lioncourt

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be-my-ally · 1 year ago

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Caught in a Trap

This has been a WIP since…. January? It predates my Tumblr anyhow - the concept is, uh, ridiculous, a cheesy rom-comesque situation. But for some reason, I just love having pretend arguments with Elvis - it’s honestly one of my go-to scenarios. Then, this prompt came along and I thought, huh, I’m pretty sure this would work with this, so I dug it out from the depths of my files and here we are xx

prompt fill: “How are we going to solve this problem?”

pairing: Elvis (1961/2) / fem!Reader

warnings: 18+, kind of manipulative!elvis, accusations of cheating, fake date, kissing, the suggestion of oral sex… but nothing actually pictured (honestly …. this is because i feel like all i’ve done recently is write the exact same description of it …. so if anyone wants to send me those time machine instructions so i can get some more inspo that would be *great*) . fictional member of the entourage as like a billy-esque person, but just a teeny bit older. Jerry hanging around when he may not have been - i’m envisioning he just popped over for something rather than working for e in this one but that may just be bc i wrote him into it and need an excuse for him to be there.

summary: essentially an alternative, younger, take of the older, sexier ‘We can’t go on together’ - Confronting Elvis about his casual kissing and the aftermath of being told ‘sure, its fine if you want to find someone else to take you out’ - spoiler…. It’s not fine.

wc: 4.4k

as always for the dolls @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @missmaywemeetagain

It’s difficult, having these conversations with him, they somehow always turn accusing - both of you slinging accusations at one another. But you can’t keep watching him go on as he is, can’t keep watching from the sidelines where he’s ensconced you between the walls of Graceland. It’s painful at best, humiliating at worst, watching him with his hands on the necks of other girls, kissing their cheeks - or god forbid their lips at the gates, in the car. Wherever he happens to be. He’s always liked girls, chased after them ever since he was old enough to want to and he didn’t often see much harm in chasing now either. Maybe you would see less harm yourself, in his careless affection for his fans, if you felt like he was putting in enough effort to you - that you weren’t just being taken advantage of. But as much as you struggle through, logically knowing he loves you, it doesn’t really feel like it at the moment. It comes to a head one evening when he stalks through the front door, furious that you’d leapt from the car and stormed up to the house when he was “just talking! I was just talkin’ to her! What did you want me to do!”

You’d awkwardly stood there in the foyer, chest heaving with your emotions but uncertain what was best to say, when he’d continued his rant;

“Oh naw, C’mon now, you wanna have it out, let’s have it out. C’mon, what’s the problem?” You sigh,

“Noth-” He huffs at you, crossing his arms, his reddish-brown suit crinkling with the motion, as if telling you he knows that’s a lie. “Ok, fine. I don’t see why you always gotta let ‘em be all over you.” That’s barely the half of it, but no good ever comes from these arguments with him.

“They’ve been waiting out there for hours, it’s the least I could do!” He shakes his head, “No, this has gotta be more than just some lil jealous thing, so go on - what’s wrong, I’ve not been treatin’ you enough?” You flinch as if you’ve been slapped, its a mean accusation and he knows it; the implication that’s all you’re there for, as if you hadn’t been there before; hadn’t waited with barely a phone call a week for two years for him to come home. Despite your best efforts you can feel your eyes filling with tears, though you attempt to furiously blink them away, knowing he hates it. He sighs, “Nah, I’m sorry baby, that wasn’t, that wasn’t fair, what is it?” He grabs your arm, slinking around so that he’s cupping you against his chest, “C’mon no need for that, what is it botherin’ you?” It’s almost comical, the degree to which he is in denial about his own affinity for being the problem, but you’ve already had enough of the discussion and just want it to be over now. So you clutch at straws, mind grabbing the first thing that he might find as an acceptable reason for your poor mood;

“Elvie - Baby, I just, I never get to go out anymore.” He huffs again, pulling back a little so he can look down at you, he rolls his eyes, as if he’s about to disagree before he looks to the side, deflating a little.

“No, you’re right. It’s not fair to you - pretty young dolls should be taken out every night of the damn week,” You frown, you’re barely two years younger than he is, “but baby, I gotta, gotta work, I’m just so goddamn busy at the moment sweetheart, I can’t just, I just don’t have the time.” You pout at him, understanding but still unhappy. He pulls you around to sit down, sitting beside you, your thighs touching.

It hadn’t been a total lie; you weren’t happy about the evenings sat waiting at home, just hoping tonight would be the night he shows up when he said he would. He stares out the window a moment, clearly thinking. He meets your eyes, holding your gaze for so long that you feel like you have to look away before saying, “Well gee honey,” his tone full of faux nonchalance, “maybe, uh, maybe you can go on dates if you wanna. Find someone to take you out when I can’t. Just…just as long as you’re being good on ‘em. Real good, mama, you hear me?” You’re a little confused what’s being proposed but you hurriedly nod all the same, “I don’t wanna hear about your mouth bein’ places it shouldn’t.” You’re quick to agree,

“Of course, it’s more, I just want the company El, I still don’t have many girlfriends here in Memphis now, but I don’t wanna be kissing anyone but you.” He pats your leg, nodding almost magnanimously, clearly pleased at his generosity of the suggestion,

“Well then sure, honey, go and have fun. Actually, that’ll solve my problem with the Colonel too.”

So with that permission, when two weeks later one of the boys - Tommy, approached you and asked timidly if you wanted to go out with him that night, “I-uh know you’re with Elvis, but I know you have a, uh, agreement of sorts, and I’d uh love to spend the evening with you doll.” You had gladly agreed. Elvis wasn’t even going to be home, and he had said you could go out; who better than one of his boys?

You’re surprised, in the late evening, how good of a time you’re having, even as you can’t help but compare; Elvis would have opened that door for you. Elvis would have had a bouquet in his hand, if not something more extravagant. Elvis would have sat on the same side of the table as you. Elvis wouldn’t have flinched away when your elbows touched. Still, for being with someone who wasn’t Elvis you were having a nice enough time and it was fun to spend some time acting your age again. Being normal. It wasn’t necessarily something you’d want to do super often but both you and Tommy were aware your heart was elsewhere and so you didn’t have to worry about letting him down, and he made sure you were both still having a good time. It was honestly just nice to be out, and not accosted while doing so. You’re sucking up the last of your milkshake, well aware the date is going nowhere and therefore not ashamed to noisily suck up the dregs, the loud noise making Tommy chuckle.

“You know doll - when EP suggested this I thought he’d gone insane, but I’ve had a good time tonight.” The pet name flowed off of his tongue as easily as it seemed to in all of Elvis’ southern entourage but you can’t help but wince internally a tiny bit at his usage. However, you’re immediately distracted by the rest of his sentence, the last of the milkshake turning to what felt like pure ice running through your throat to your tummy,

“Sorry, did you just say… Elvis suggested this?” Tommy suddenly looks a little bashful, eyes wide,

“Uh - yeah, I thought…he said he thought the press would stop hounding you so much if uh - you looked unattached from him? Said people were starting to guess you were uhhh goin’ steady stead of just seein’ him. So he told me to take you out - dinner and a movie, make sure we were seen and uhhh…. told me I could do whatever you asked….you know keepin’ up ‘ppearances but to keep my hands to myself.” You’re stunned, and feel so, so very stupid. You’d honestly thought he liked you, at the very least as a friend, and while you had had no intention of it being anything but an evening that might make Elvis jealous you still had liked the attention.

“…sorry, are you saying that you were paid to go on this date with me?”

“Uhhh look, I thought you knew! I thought it was a joint thing, and I uh wasn’t paid anything more than I norm-lly would for an evening’s work. Ain’t like I took much persuadin’ - you’re a pretty girl!” Well there was that at least. “I didn’t meanta offend ya or anythin.” he sounds sincere, and while you’re still shaken by this revelation your brain is running through scenarios that may make the evening still worthwhile. You smooth your features, and smile up at him glancing at him under your eyelashes

“Well-there’s one way you can make it up to me.” It’s like he can tell where your mind has gone and he looks sideways nervously,

“Uh, well see here though doll, Elvis… he’ll kill me. He’ll kill me dead.” You let out a little, fake, giggle.

“Oh no it’s just a game - he’s just foolin with you, the silly goose.” You worry you might be laying it on a bit thick but he definitely is starting to relax. “Look, I uh, don’t think he’d be thrilled to see anything in the papers but look, if you let Jerry catch us in the caddy; I’ll double whatever Elvis was gonna pay you…” He still looks uncertain, and you panic for a second before you get a sudden flash of inspiration - “And I’ll make sure he doesn’t go mad at you.” He still looks worried but is clearly on the fence, “… and I’ll put in a good word with Jackie for you.” His face lights up. Jackpot.

It’s awkward as you drive back, both of you preparing for it, he clearly wants to know why on earth you seem to have lost your mind but is evidently too afraid to ask. And you’re spending the time wondering the exact same thing, but, at the end of the day… Elvis can only be so mad, right? He does basically the same thing all the time. When he pulls into the spot designated for the car, you turn to him - there needs to be ground rules.

“Ok. Hands above my waist. At all times.” He nods, eyes wide, “Ok, ok this’ll be fine. Just a kiss - a regular kiss, no tongue or anything.” He nods again, rapidly, like the fear is subsiding somewhat and he can’t quite believe his luck.

You don’t have to wait long, you’d timed it almost perfectly for when you knew Jerry would be heading out to meet his current girl. You can see him stand there and put his hand up to his forehead, attempting to block your headlights which you’d ‘accidentally’ bumped on when he started to walk up.“Ok,” You look over at Tommy, inching across the seat, “Ok, quick before he goes,” You don’t allow it to go on for very long, but certainly long enough and it’s only shortly after when you pull away, acting as if you were in a daze; quickly flicking off the lights and killing the power entirely. When you glance up again, Jerry’s gone.

‘Shit.’ You think, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. It was one thing to give a performative kiss, for a reason - to a fan begging for it, but quite another to have potentially done so without an audience. It makes you feel strangely guilty about the whole evening. You thank Tommy again, making it clear it’s time for him to leave; he gets out when you do and starts to heads towards the house but before he’s taken three steps you’re calling back to him, “Uh Tommy, just in case - unless he sends for you, I’d probably lay low until I have a chance to speak to him.” He looks back at you and nods. Despite your assurances (and his clear desire to go out with Jackie) you can tell he was still apprehensive about facing Elvis. He changes the direction he was heading in, instead heading for the back entrance - clearly about to go and find some of the other boys to hang out with - or maybe bum a lift home from one of them, while you get out of your car, smooth your dress and hair and head for the front door.

You walk in, expecting pretty much a party since it was the right time of night for that to be happening and hear nothing but Elvis at the piano; your stomach plummets, it’s rare he’s home at this time, and even rarer that he’s clearly alone - you feel even guiltier about what you’ve done. He’d clearly wanted you to have him to come home to, no doubt knowing you’d choose him over anyone. You head straight for the music room tucked in the corner of the foyer and see him sat there, mindlessly playing humming along but looking out the window.

“Hi Honey,” You go to greet him with a kiss, but he turns to face you and you realise you’ve severely miscalculated;

“Hi Honey” he mocks you in a high pitched tone, it deepens as he continues to stare directly at you, “Jerry just called me from the car. He had some mighty interestin’ gossip to tell me.” He pats the bench “why dontcha sit down and let me share it with you.” You look around nervously but he really has cleared the place out and there’s no one to excuse yourself with, nor can you think of any good reason to refuse him, so you do as he demands. You hope Tommy had headed back out himself. You try to keep your face expressionless forcibly relaxing your jaw, anxious not to let Elvis know you’re worried; how’re you the one who’s feeling so nervous? Although you’d expected some reaction you hadn’t expected to have to face up to the consequences so soon. Despite everything telling you not to, you sit close to him, thighs touching. You’d normally hook an ankle around his, but that’s a step too far today. His fingers play a little tune while you wait for him to talk.

“You steppin’ out on me baby?” His tone is level, in a way that says his anger has gone past hot temper and straight into cold fury. If he wasn’t so enraged you might find him amusing, sounding a bit like a petulant little boy pretending to be a man. You look over at him, suddenly furious that he, who orchestrated this whole evening, might take offence that you took part in it.

“If I was it’s because you arranged it.” He hits a flat note.

“Because you asked me to.” He’s got an edge of a condescending tone about him, and he talks slowly, like he’s spelling something out for you. “You told me I never take you out anymore and you’d find someone who would. I found someone for you. Thought you’d be happy.” He shrugs.

“So….what exactly is the problem here then?” Your tone is less than polite, but you had expected him to rage at you and his opposite reaction has unnerved you. You go to stand up, exhausted already at the argument that he appears to be ready to have again. It wasn’t how you’d expected this to go - you thought he’d apologise, make up, move on; although you should know by now that he rarely, if ever, apologises for anything. As you round the corner by him, his hand whips out and he grabs your wrist,

“I ain’t done talking to you yet little girl.” You have no choice but to pause where you are,

“I don’t see what’s left to talk about - I did what I said I was going to do, and you arranged it. Did you want me to say thank you? Thank you for insulting me like that?”

He looks over at you and he’s talking fast, lowly like he wants to get his point across as quickly as possible. His head dipping to look up at you from under his eyelashes, his hand that wasn’t clutching you gesturing with his speech;

“N-ow baby, I didn’t have an issue with you bein’ taken out, you’re right I probably don’t spend enough time treatin’ you to all that … although I think you get enough treats. But….Jerry’s just told me there was somethin’ else goin’ on. That’s different from bein’ taken out to dinner baby,” his eyes flash, and he looks you dead in your own, and despite how awkward you feel you can’t look away, his accent growing stronger as his emotions get the better of him; “that’s you steppin out o’line, steppin’ out on me. How are we gonna solve this problem?”

He’s still got a hold of your wrist and he’s holding onto it so tightly, you’re positive it’ll bruise if he holds on much longer. His eyes are burning as he looks over at you, and you can’t help but let yours fill with tears. He shakes his head and wiggles your arm,

“No. Darlin’ don’t you start with them crocodile tears until we got this all straightened out.” He tugs you to stand in front of him as he swivels to sit sideways on the bench. As you try to swallow your tears indignation rises within you;

“You’re not being fair. You step out on me all the damn time El. Lord above, I’m surprised if you’re not out more than you’re in.” He frowns, “and more than that, you arranged it all tonight! manoeuvred me about just how you wanted! How did you expect me to react Elvis? Of course I wanted to get back at you. Give you a little taste of how I feel all the goddamn time.”

“Baby,” His tone as if he’s talking to a child, “I’ve told you before - it’s different for me I’ve -“

‘I swear to god E, if you say you’ve got needs one more fucking time, we’re through and I really mean it this time.” He sucks in a breath, like despite all he’s done he didn’t expect the ultimatum, and usually you’d expect it to annoy him further - for him to tell you fine, go then. But he doesn’t, instead he looks down, suddenly forlorn as if you’ve knocked the wind from his sails.

“I don’t know what you want me to say doll, I can’t bear the thought of you with someone else.” He’s still looking down, at your feet, like a little boy being told off. You hate how it immediately endears him to you again, how you’re immediately thinking of ways you could make him feel better.

“Well why should I have to bear it with you?”

He looks sideways, “It’s ju-just,” he’s clearly nervous and he stutters through the next, “baby I have spoken to the Colonel ‘bout all this, d-d- don’t think I haven’t, he just ain’t keen on me having a girl at the moment. I don’t see how you can come with me everywhere and it not be clear we’re together.” You shake your arm where it’s still in his grip, forcing him to look at you.

“Well El- are we together? Because there’s puttin’ on a show for whatever reason and then there’s sneakin’ girls back when no-ones looking.” Your own accent is coming out stronger as you get louder.

“There ain’t no other girls darling,” he sighs, “I dunno how many times I’ve gotta tell you that.”

“That’s just not true, if it was we wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place.” He shakes his head, hair starting to come out of its coiffed position with the force of it,

“I swear baby you’re the only girl for me.” You nod, and step forward to put your hands on either side of his face. He leans into them, eyelashes fluttering unconsciously.

“I know you think that when I’m here, but what about when I’m not?”

“I-I don’t know how you’re turning this onto me doll, when you’re the one kissin’ someone else tonight. I’ve been here on my lonesome waiting for you to come home.” You laugh, squeezing his cheeks causing his lips to pucker as he talks,

“Elvis. That’s my life every night.” He frowns.

“Darling, they don’t mean nothing though! I swear it’s just for show! I haven’t had another girl in any way that matters since I met you baby.” You frown back at him, that wasn’t what you’d heard, and ‘not in any way that matters’ doesn’t mean not at all but his earnest expression, with his eyes wide, seems desperate for you to believe him. “Please baby, you hafta believe me.” He pleads, and you can feel yourself slipping,

“Hmmm. Well….if you say so.” You shrug, about to pull away to take a breath and attempt to regain your thoughts without his eyes imploring you. He stands, wrapping his arms around your midriff, with a little wiggle before you can get any further away. A hand travels up to your neck, almost feeling like he’s scruffing you, but his thumb rubs over a pressure point and you can feel the tension in your shoulders ease with each gentle stroke of his finger.

“I swear, mama.” You look up at him, his lips parted - blue eyes earnest, for once not clouded by eyeliner or make-up, “I swear, I- I uh like the attention but I mean I’m a hot blooded man, I can’t turn that off baby, and if a girl’s gonna throw herself at me, I’m not gonna shove her away.” You frown, you’d been about to cave in to anything he said, but you’re hesitant again now - unsure what you’d be agreeing to if not, essentially, giving him permission to do whatever the hell he likes. His hand grips your hip tighter, as if he can sense he’s losing you. “No, c’mon baby, you know it makes sense - it’s, it don’t mean nothing, I swear it, I swear it on, on,” He looks around desperate for divine inspiration, “On my Mama’s grave I swear - you’re my girl.” You’re taken aback by that, it wasn’t something you’d ever heard him say before and Gladys’ name wasn’t ever brought up in any kind of jest. You can’t help but totally believe him. You duck your head, hating yourself a little for making him swear such a promise,

“Oh no, Elvis, I only kissed him to get back at you - make you jealous.” He tucks your head against him, holding you close and shushes you,

“I know sweet, I know. Bet he wasn’t even a good kisser was he? He’s just a boy, ain’t a man like you need.” You shake your head against his chest groaning a little at what you’re about to confess, playing in to his little pissing competition.

“No…wasn’t good at all. Hadda….had to lead.” Elvis laughs,

“Oh no, sweet little thing like you shouldn’t hafta be in charge. You oughta be taken care of.” He tips your head back and brushes your tears away with his thumbs. “No more tears mama,” and he kisses you, gently - twice on the mouth before moving to the side of your face. Butterfly kisses, before leading you by the hand over to the sofa, “Lemme take care of ya, doll.”

He sits, legs parted and his hands grip your hips holding you in place before dragging you closer, it forces you to look down at him. Simultaneously making you feel a little small, and a little like a child, you thread your fingers through his hair, weaving the strands, stiff with gel and spray past your knuckles to tilt his head up. He smiles up at you, a little private half-smile, his eyes crinkling and you’re helpless to anything except leaning down to press a kiss against it. He takes the opportunity of the momentum of your leaning down to tug you onto his lap. Breaking your hold on his hair, and the touch of your lips on his. He takes a moment to situate you, tugging with a hand under your thigh to pull you ever closer to him. Once you’re firmly tucked against his side his other hand travels up your back to support your head, as if you needed it, gripping your neck, the other a heavy presence on your thigh. You shift, helplessly trapped by his hold on you - as if you’d even want to get away, unable to do anything but melt against his chest.

You glance about, sure that the silence and solitude you had found him in was soon to be broken, and nervous about going any further if there was a threat of being interrupted.

“Nah, baby, no-one’s around,” He leans forward, kissing your neck, “Let - “ he moves closer, to your cheek, murmuring against your skin, “me, make it up to you.” He whispered right against your lips. You sink into him completely, lips parting of their own accord, and he delves into them. It’s perfect, despite the slightly awkward angle, and you can’t help but sigh a little breath of relief at the feeling of it, so different from the gentle, chaste kiss in the car. Utterly perfect with his sharp nippy little teeth and darting tongue. He pulls you back, shifting you back but lower, until you’re pretty much horizontal on the sofa, pulling his hand out from under your neck to lay you down completely. He shifts, tumbling off, onto his knees.

He pulls you around with a grip on your thighs before positioning you exactly how he wants, on your back, with your feet planted firmly down, legs spread. He tugs you closer to him, so that you’re almost coming off the couch yourself, pushing your legs apart further so that he could kneel between them. You aren’t sure about this. Not in, essentially, the very first room of the house - not, right by the front door.

“C’mon I’ll make you feel good doll, and then, then I’ll take ya upstairs and you can apologise real pretty to me too.” You frown, about to protest - to suggest, ‘hey how about we go straight upstairs now?’ when all thoughts are gone from your mind as he pushes your already bunched up dress further up and leans in, his breath hot against your panties. He’s … very good at this, and you’re under no illusions that by the time he’s half carrying you on wobbly legs up the stairs that you’ll have completely forgotten about any of those other girls, and by the time he’s placing you on your knees in front of him in the bedroom, that you’ll have totally forgiven him for any future transgressions as well.

#writing prompt game #60s elvis x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis smut is probably a bit too far for what’s in this #so idk #light elvis smut #be-my-ally

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formyloveoflove · 4 months ago

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Carmen Berzatto and the Very, Very Bad Work Environment

There is enough space to empathize with Carmen and hold him accountable for his actions. He’s trying very hard to change, but that doesn’t mean he’s not hurting people in the process.

“Hurt people hurt people,” isn’t that how the phrase goes? I don’t think he’s a monster. I do think because of his trauma, he’s tunnel-visioned on the worst parts of himself. And in doing so, he’s isolating himself.

It’s not the “If it’s not perfect, it doesn’t go out.” It’s the condescending tone, the dramatic performance of slamming it in the trash. It’s the anger that’s associated with it. You can still have this ideology without being mean or hurtful about it.

Carmen is stuck in “I’m going to smoke this motherfucker” mode. He views everyone in his staff as competition, and has a tendency to discredit or diminish their capabilities. He demands perfection on a BOH staff of three (?) that only has 1/3 of fine dining experience who have to produce a new menu every day for a failing restaurant. That’s all these different stressors coming into play. That’s

a new arena and standard for Tina, Richie, Marcus, Gary, etc.

with menu changes every day, there’s no comfort to fall into. There’s no rhythm. There’s no way to prepare.

they’re understaffed, so there’s no one coming to save you. sometimes, your calls for “hands” go unanswered. You have to juggle two, three, four things that you just learned to cook. Something’s going to get fucked up, and sent back. And Carmen’s going to yell at you about it. Also, if you want to take a mental health day, it could jeopardizes everything

in the midst of all of this, Richie and Carmen are screaming everyday. They have at least one physical altercation. If you don’t think constantly hearing two people argue all the time is damaging, then ask anybody who grew up in a dysfunctional household. Me, for example.

then the bitter realization that doing all of this is not making them money. My good man Ebra is though (and thank god he got some help bc he was threading water, too)

The Bear is a hostile work environment. Full stop. There’s constant aggression and ridiculing. Once, I worked in a hostile work environment for six months, and it caused me panic attacks, nightmares, and extreme bouts of depression. I cried coming to and from work because i wanted to leave, but I loved the kids that i worked with and i had no other options available. In those situations, “You’re trapped,” no pun intended (well, maybe a little pun intended).

And the consequences of a hostile work environment:

higher rates of stress, anxiety, burnout, depression, and other mental health issues in employees

decreased productivity

high turnover rates - we’re both told about this about the BOH staff and shown the FOH staff. Try counting how many of the wait staff stay in between debriefings

erosion of trust and morale

The course that Carmy’s set sail for is leading him straight to disaster.

There’s a reason we’re shown Carmen’s experience in other successful and starred kitchens that have welcoming environments. There’s a reason why we see Chef Terry shutdown Carmen’s aggression towards Luca. There’s a reason why we get “I think about you too much” and “I don’t think about you at all.” There’s a reason why we get “This place could be different than any other places we’ve been at.”

Now, I don’t think comparing the consequences of Carmy’s actions on those around him to those of Donna’s or NYC Head Chef’s on him is right. Everything happens on a spectrum, and I’m just not for creating hierarchies for people’s hurt in real life, so I try not to do in fictional cases either.

Carmen’s trying to work through some shit, so I’ll give credit where credit is due. I’ll give gold stars to anyone out there, trying to unlearn some negative habits and make themselves better. I’m doing it now, and that shits hard. However, I won’t be giving Carmen a cookie because he didn’t tell his staff to kill themselves like his old boss.

Carmen has to “change the chemistry.” He has to acknowledge that he, himself, is capable of change. And it can’t be because Syd said so. It would be hard for him, but I would love for him to look around and see what he’s done to his own staff and change. Not just want to change but actually change. With his double-guessing to both Syd and Ebra, it might not take him long to get there.

Mikey’s gone. His old chef doesn’t care.

There’s no one else to spite. Carmen has so much anger, resentment, and fear, but he, also, has his moments of happiness and laughter and courage. He, also, has so much love to give.

It’s very hard seeing a character that you love and can relate to become cold and distant and mean to other characters that you love and relate to. But we got another season, so I want to stick around for it.

#the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto #the bear meta #the bear spoilers #the bear s3 #the bear season 3 #not becoming your parent is hard work #joy does come in the morning

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shelaghdette · 7 months ago

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the mischaracterisation of shelagh turner

this post will be a bit of a ramble, and i promise im not directly attacking any one person or group! i've just seen a few things over the course of my involvement with the fandom that trouble me a bit.

as a disclaimer: i LOVE shelagh intensely. she's perhaps my favourite fictional character in ANY piece of media. of course i have my own fixed opinions, so this makes me inherently biased. take whatever i say with a pinch of salt, im just an internet lesbian.

damselification

there's a common take in the fandom that shelagh left the order just for patrick. i'd like to argue this isnt true. patrick was a massive part of her reason, and i'd even agree that falling for him gave her the final push, but we have evidence to suggest she was considering it LONG before we first saw the turnadette plot.

shelagh wanted to hang out with the GIRLS. shelagh saw jenny, trixie and cynthia's freedom and she wanted it. in the beginning, it had very little to do with a man. when she takes her wimple off and stands in front of the mirror, shes trying to find herself.

shelagh had a desire to be a free woman. being in love with patrick was a part of it, but not the whole picture.

even when she did choose to be with patrick, she made those decisions all on her own. she didn't read the letters he sent her until she was already certain of her choice. she wasn't going to be begged, and she wasn't going to beg him, either. shelagh would have left the order whether patrick really wanted to be with her or not.

in fics, shelagh is often portrayed as a helpless baby who needed patrick to save her from her indecision paralysis. i don't think this is true.

stupification (sex mention ahead!)

shelagh is a MIDWIFE. not only that, she's confirmed to be the most accomplished and talented in her field at nonnatus house. i would argue her intelligence and competence in her job is equal to, if not greater, than her husband's. she has an extensive knowledge of the female anatomy. she's studied it for years. she works with it every single day.

SO PLEASE STOP ACTING LIKE SHELAGH TURNER WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT A BLOODY CLITORIS IS! the amount of smut fics ive read that have been instantly ruined by patrick mansplaining her own anatomy to her is not ridiculously high, but it isnt zero either. and whenever it happens, it does my head in. i'm not saying shelagh's going to leave the order and immediately become an absolute sex goddess, that's also unrealistic. but dear god, she knows what her own bits are called. it's just another way she's infantilized and turned into a weak little angel baby who patrick has to smother and save.

on a less nsfw note, i just feel like some fics don't give shelagh's intelligence the credit it's due. it's hard to fully explain without giving examples (which i don't want to do bc i feel like that's unfair and really mean), but in general, patrick just hand-holds her a lot and explains basic things she'd have no trouble understanding on her own. girly is CLEVER. let her be clever.

#call the midwife #shelagh turner #roo speaks absolute shite

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asecretvice · 6 months ago

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hi!! i’m rereading “and this, your living kiss” (for about the sixth time bc i love it so so much), and i’m very curious what your personal opinion is about on the road? you write both opinions of the book so well and i know it’s one of those books that garner very opposite strong opinions. i read the book after reading your fic for the first time and certainly have my own strong opinions. would love to know your thoughts about it!

(and once again thank you for the absolute gift that your fic is, i love it so deeply)

Firstly, thank you so much for your kind words about my writing. It means the world <3

On the Road is a tricky one, isn't it? The short answer is, I do enjoy it. The longer answer includes a "but." And then a couple more.

Just looking at the specs of the book, it's pretty unusual that I should enjoy it--the subject matter is mostly [white] dudes being dudes, it's more or less "literary" fiction, there's just...SO MUCH misogyny, and I'm simply not a big fan of stream of consciousness [or free association, or spontaneous, or whatever you want to call it] prose, because it's difficult to do it both clearly and interestingly. And yet.

The guy does it well. The book is full of energy and passion, ridiculously gorgeous turns of phrase, and for the characters [real people!] he spends the time on, the portraits are so detailed and beautiful and ugly and real. Down to the way he captures their speech patterns!

It's been a little over ten years since I've read it [what is. time.], but I plucked the book off my shelf and was able to find you the exact passage in the first chapter where I decided to trust Kerouac as an author, and allow myself to go with his flow:

They rushed down the street together, digging everything in the early way they had, which later became so much sadder and perceptive and blank. But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!" What did they call such young people in Goethe's Germany?

I mean, this thought starts with another device I tend not to like, the sort of, "If only they'd known, then this wouldn't have happened!" or "Little did they know, it would all end soon" or what have you. But it isn't laid out that way, as a wink or a gotcha. It sets up the dim result, but then gives you the answer without holding your hand about it--you can only burn like that for so long, really. And the nod to "young people in Goethe's Germany," and mentioning the colors blue and yellow, in my view, are an intentional reference to The Sorrows of Young Werther.

The structure is great! This passage is three sentences, the middle one taking up the bulk of it. It's got all sorts of qualities that well-meaning teachers might try to convince you out of, but he's long past that beginner's stage. Read it out loud! It sounds right. The rhythm of this whole section works, with the lead up sentence, the one that flies higher and higher into a climax, and then the short denouement that brings you back down to earth. Not to mention the poetics of it; you could easily split that middle sentence into lines and be wowed by the structure of it:

and I shambled after as I've been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved

Or hell, just say aloud the phrase "candles exploding like spiders across the stars" and delight in the recurring phonemes like /k/, /l/, /d/, /s/, etc.

And you know, maybe that does nothing for you. But I can't imagine that most folks wouldn't at least appreciate the sentiment and how real it feels, how some are in their youth, and then things becoming "so much sadder." Or relate to times when you felt fully mad or overwhelmingly desirous. Or being the person shambling behind, the one ever so slightly on the outside, observing the ones who seem to be truly living their lives to the fullest [Writers' Syndrome(tm)].

So yes, I enjoy the book and I enjoy the pictures Kerouac paints us. It certainly helps that I read this book right around the time I started watching spn. I believe it was probably a month or so after I'd caught up. It was on the docket anyway because I had discovered Ginsberg for myself not very long before I watched the show, and I'd made a point to seek out a few of the beats thereafter. It was rather a synchronous turn of events that helped cement the two things--spn and beat literature--together for me, beyond the movement's heavy influence on Kripke. [If you don't think I have a beats-style spn fic that's been waiting to be written since that time which I've nicknamed Sulfur Sutra then you are sorely mistaken :p ]

Anyway, I did reread the first chapter before writing this post and yeah, the mommy issues and misogyny are in there right away also, and like...okay, that tracks why I recall so well certain moments of the book where I got so frustrated I would be taken out of it and just sit there like

[I hope he felt my eyes. Burning shame into his soul. Like my dude. Really?]

The other part of it is...well...he was in fact describing his version of reality. You don't have to like him on account of it, but I don't doubt for a moment that the guys talked that way, or thought that yes indeed Marylou should go to the kitchen or go sweep the floor or whatever. It takes place in the 40s [not like it doesn't happen all the time today]. Look at it from a more historical/anthropological perspective, if that helps.

Thankfully, there are antidotes to all this. I would highly recommend what I've found to be the best one: Minor Characters by Joyce Johnson. She was part of the beats, and was in a relationship with Kerouac for a couple years. On the Road was reality as he perceived the era; Minor Characters as she perceived it.

In terms of my fic, I agree with and hold both Dean's and Charlie's perspectives simultaneously, as they both come to do after they discuss it with each other and finish the book themselves. The gender politics [and in a few passages, the race politics] are shit, but there's a reason the book has remained popular since its publication, and inspired so many adaptations and other stories. To this day its effects are felt in the American zeitgeist, and for that reason I'm still happy to recommend it to people with the obvious caveats. Besides, as is often the truth in these cases, the book is so much more interesting and beautiful and nuanced than pop culture makes it out to be.

You said you have some strong opinions--feel free to tell me what they are! I'm interested to know ^_^

Thank you again for your kind words, and your ask. I had a lot of fun answering it!

#opal replies #the beat generation #literature #living kiss #radiostranger

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shesmore-shoebill · 7 months ago

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consider: amanda flirts with angela in the most unhinged way, is half-joking bc she thinks she never has a chance but angela takes it seriously.

(as always, this is all in the fictional RPF universe and is not about/speculating on the actual people, even if im drawing from irl actions. At most its for the fictionalized versions of the online personas)

LOVE this concept for the RPF universe. I think I'm gonna go the angst route with this one bc I just- can't resist. Amanda in the position where she feels so strongly that the flirting and the comments slip out without her meaning to, and she's also so certain that it would never work that she just leans into it- takes it over the top. Constant. Wild and ridiculous, because she feels so strongly about it.

and Angela obviously is just kind of. In over her head because- what the fuck? Maybe she knows how she feels about Amanda and it just kind of feels like the universe playing a sick joke on her, because the flirting is so over the top it can't be real. Maybe she doesn't but she knows her insides get kind of coiled up whenever Amanda does it and she has to cling to her improv capabilities with both hands and try to play it off, bc if she thinks too hard about it, then- then-

So Angela doesnt really do it back 100%, or at some point, sometimes she starts bailing out of the bits earlier than she needs to, because she just- can't, can't keep it up as only a bit. Not when its just so much, and it seems to happen more and more often, and Angela can act, can act well, but its all just a little too real.

And Amanda, who is trying to not get her hopes up and is trying to outrun her feelings by treating it as a convoluted, extensive joke and doubling down on it as just a joke. Is, despite her best efforts: maybe dismayed that Angela doesn't quite reciprocate, or that Angela seems to be pulling away from the bits a bit. Even though this fake (""fake"") flirting shouldn't even matter, because its not real, haha, its so ridiculous. But if it were- at least when both of them were doing it, it was almost like having it, it was almost as good as the actual thing of- well- and now- and now-

If we really want to put RPF goggles on and use more recent thoughts we can really just. Linger on how Amanda always lunges towards coworkers for fake kiss bits and Angela doesn't stay put during those. Courtney would probably commit to the bit, I think Arasha would figure out a clever way to basically commit but pull some sleight of hand. But Angela pulls back instinctively because- no- no- what- she can't, not for a joke, not with her. And Amanda does it, just for the joke, just for the joke, improv is all about figuring out your partners instincts and calibrating for that, but then why does Angela pulling back make her feel like- that. Why does she keep trying. Why does it matter to her.

#DELICIOUS. amangela angst hours sorry #smosh rpf #amangela #amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #smosh hcs #smosh au #oghhhh. love this tho #ask tag #pining amanda #disaster amanda

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holyfreaks · 12 days ago

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Hey! ^_^

So I'm copy pasting this cause I'm asking several people the same thing to gather answers, and I dont want to mess up my wording.

Why do you ship Wincest, why do you like it?

And I know a base answer would be "look at the way they look at each other" but you can notice that people have a thing for each other or acknowledge a couple without shipping it, without being invested in it or liking it.

For me it's because I think it's cute and sweet, that they would be able to make something nice out of the, to be frank, dumpster fire of their life, that they could cut a weird little hole for themselves and say "in the midst of all this bad, THIS is for us." It also interests me to think about how they would get to this point, to cross so many lines and become attached to each other in a way that is VERY atypical, even for their isolated situation. Cause not every set of siblings, even when put through a ridiculous amount of trauma, turn towards each other in a incestuous way. They might be codependently bonded, but it doesn't usually spill over into the physical or romantic. (I'm talking about all this in a very fictional setting btw).

So I enjoy the created home and comfort, and the psychological(?) aspect of what would make it happen.

And I was curious about what the appeal was for you.

Thank you! ♡

ooo very good question!!!

in short, I ship samdean because it's compelling and interesting to me to think of them in a relationship

a longer answer is that their canon relationship is very strange when it comes to sibling relations and that is interesting to me. they're emotionally incestuous and codependent in the show and I like to think about what they would be like if they crossed that line to something more physical, sexual, emotional, you name it.

but I also like the way you described them, like their lives were so shitty that they found love and happiness and safety in each other. I totally agree and I think that would be the expected outcome yeah

I also just like dark fiction and spn can be pretty dark even for a network show. I like to think about them in fucked up situations bc I think it's interesting and, to be more personal, I've also been in fucked up situations and it helps me deal with that to explore it in a safe space

but. yeah. basically that's why I ship them <3 they are my barbie dolls that I make scissor <33

#sam winchester #dean winchester #wincest #samdean #gencest #weirdcest #spn #nep's asks #nep speaks

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wordy-little-witch · 9 months ago

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My brain is all over the place so I'm gonna mix n match my stuff with the only common theme being Buggy and hyperfixation.

But like. Age regression. Not the funky cool supernatural kind in fiction, the coping mechanism (I like the fiction ones too tho but for this, it's coping mechs)

Just. Buggy and Shanks both having had a frankly RIDICULOUS amount of childhood trauma and both turning to different methods to cope. Buggy got introduced to age regression both bc he already kinda sorta did t involuntarily without KNOWING and then when he brought on some people to his crew with experience in psychology and therapy for whatever reason.

He got dragged to self care hours, kicking and screaming at first and then more willingly. Turns out the "off vibes" were actually severe psychological distress, PTSD, etc. Who knew? Anyway yeah.

Cabaji, Mohji and Ritchie were the ones who were first aware of Buggy's "fuzzy episodes" as he called it. Was hard not to be in close quarters on a tiny ass ship holding three nearly grown men and a growing lion. As the crew grew, even when they got the Big Top, they were still mostly aware of things. Ritchie in particular always seemed to just... Know when Buggy was blurred out and needed a hand. Or to have smth to cuddle and pet.

Mohji actually brings it up in HIS therapy sessions without naming names. Just "hey how can I help with [x,y,z]?" There's some hums and haws before finally herspist is like "sounds like it could be anything, so I can't definitively say. Keep doing whatever has worked so far, I guess,but take care of yourself too. Maybe recommend your friend talk to a professional, like me or one of the other doctors."

Buggy is vehemently against it for a good while until he finally reaches a point that he's getting frustrated. He's scared and mad and decides he'll ACTUALLY consider it - then during one of his own sessions, he gets triggered into a panic attack, which spirals due to exhaustion into him just... clicking out. Surprise. Looks like it's happening whether he wants it or not.

Through this and subsequent meetings and experimenting, he gets told that what he's doing is a blend of regression and dissociation. They decide to try to separate thebtwo to see if maybe they can turn this from a defense to a decompression method.

Buggy still can count on one hand the number of people he trusts to know this - but it does help. He's doing... a lot better actually, with this. It doesn't fix everything, but it DOES help him stay steady enough to work on the things that need fixing. Cabaji, Mohji, Ritchie, and later Alvida are also finding themselves enjoying the time they spend together when Buggy wants or needs company. They also start picking up on some smaller things about Buggy that have turned the odd quirks and strange habits into smth more, start getting puzzle pieces to the bigger picture.

They secretly start a hit list but that's for another time.

Impel Down was an absolute hot mess, and the recovering from that and the subsequent summit war was not pretty. Just when things started coasting again on slightly smoother waters, Crocodile and Mihawk show up with the instatement of the Cross Guild.

Might just make a tag specifically for my agere stuff bc Buggy is my little blorbo and I shamelessly project on him so I may throw all my clown themed thought here

#agere Buggy #little Buggy #age regression #agere one piece #buggy headcanons

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bthump · 1 year ago

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Ik what your stance is on liking Griffs character and I have nothing against it because Griffith's character is arguably one of the best written characters in Berserk, he's actually my guilty favorite.

But sometimes, I catch myself SILENTLY judging ppl who like characters that do morally incorrect things like Mori from Bungou Stray Dogs who's a straight up p*do or same with Hisoka or many other characters who tend to be p*dos and r*pists.

so i guess my question sorta fall in, when do you draw the line in liking a character?

I mean, Griffith did unfortunately rape casca (a horrible writing decision, really). anyways, I guess I sorta try to seek justification like "Oh but Miura wrote the rape scene in such a ridiculous way that I can't seem to really fully have the idea that Griff is a rapist in mind"

or sometimes i just yk, love the character design and how he was written (esp post eclipse god, he is awesome!!)

but sometimes...I see ppl who are justifably upset that I like a character that happens to SADLY have a stupidly written key point where he rapes a character.

And I don't blame ppl who hate Griff for raping her, bc theres been times where I also hate charcters for how they were pedos or also SA'd someone...so why is the line so blurry when it comes to liking Griffith and how can I ig put myself in a position where I don't feel bad for liking him?

tbh I don't have a line when it comes to fictional characters.

Or maybe more accurately, my line isn't which characters people like, but how they discuss them. I wouldn't judge someone (morally, I might judge their taste lol) for liking any character ever, no matter how awful, because I don't know what they like about them, what their lines are, what they feel comfortable ignoring or reasoning away or happily playing up because they like dark shit in fiction, etc. It's all fair game as far as I'm concerned. If they like a rapist I don't assume they love real rape, I assume they like dark fiction and consider them a really well-written villain, or they like other aspects of the character and the rape doesn't ruin it for them, or they like the character design and don't care that much about fictional crimes, or maybe they have a rape kink which is also perfectly fine, etc.

But yk, when people use harmful rhetoric to discuss a character they like, that's when I start judging. Eg I'm fine with people who love Guts. I'm not fine with people who say things like "Casca should forgive Guts for the assault because he stopped himself before going too far," eg. I'd be fine if they said "Casca should forgive Guts because it would make for a more satisfying story" though - I'd judge their taste in fiction and ability to analyze the story lol, but I don't think that opinion would make them a bad person. I'm fine with people who love Farnese, I'm fine with people who prefer her to Casca, but I'm not fine with anyone who might frame it like, Farnese is better than Casca because she's rich and white and from a respectable family. (I've never seen this take lol, but yk, as a hypothetical.)

Also in my personal experience I find that people who like characters due to their own offensive biases tend to have a hard time hiding it, so it's pretty easy to judge them by their own character, rather than their fictional preferences. And in my own experience the worst kinds of people tend to like heroic characters more than villains lol. If anything I find that liking characters who do "morally incorrect things" is often a sign that I'll get along with that person.

There's also something to be said here re: watsonian vs doylist perspectives. I think people who view media from a purely watsonian perspective, ie kind of buying into the fictional story as if it's real, attempting to understand the characters the way someone would understand a real person and relate to them on those terms, are going to have a harder time dealing with morally dark characters.

I tend to view media from a doylist perspective, which means I view the characters as constructions that help tell a story, and I generally judge them on what they bring to that story and how effectively they serve it. I wouldn't want to be friends with most of my faves, and I like a lot of characters who do terrible things, because those characters are fun to watch and read about. So disliking a character just because they did a bad thing doesn't really make sense to me on a personal level. I get why other people feel that way, but I don't care about fictional harm. I'll hate a character for being mildly annoying when they're on screen, but I generally won't hate a character for committing atrocities, unless they're depicted in a way that pisses me off lol. Like, I love Femto, I hate Isidro. Femto is cool even with the obnoxious rape scene, Isidro is annoying even though he's an innocent kid.

(Also I guess to be completely fair I'd judge someone for liking a character who exists solely as like, fascist political propaganda. But I do mean solely, like I'm talking shit like The Turner Diaries, not like the MCU or cop shows lol. Or like, if someone says they love the protag of Atlas Shrugged they'd better clarify that they disagree with the political messaging and they like him for xyz reasons, because it's such an infamously libertarian story that I'm gonna side-eye anyone who likes it by default, bc I feel like in this day and age very few people are reading Ayn Rand for the story lol. So I do technically have some lines in terms of judging fans of characters, but they're pretty uncommon lines.)

tl;dr I don't think you should feel bad for liking Griffith and idt you should even feel like you have to justify it by saying the rape scene was badly written. It was, and I think it's totally fair if that helps you like Griffith more, but even if the rape scene was super well-written and respectful to Casca and thematically significant etc etc Griffith would still be a fantastically written character imo.

And I don't know the other examples you gave personally, but as a general rule I think it's better to judge people for how they behave than for what kinds of fiction they enjoy. I do at least have friends who like Hisoka, presumably because he's a fun, entertaining character give or take the creepiness, and they're awesome people.

I don't think you should have to like those characters yourself ofc, rape/pedophilia/etc etc is a pretty understandable line to draw in terms of your own enjoyment of a fictional character, but other people have different lines and I think that's reasonable too.

#ask #anonymous #b #theme: fandom

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