#both appeal to elitists and snobs

[steriskks]

Lux creates elegant weapons that not only look good but work smoothly. It's no wonder they pride themselves as the best of the best— second only to Toni Kensa.

Their most popular weapon has to be the Lux Tri-Stringer due to its intricate design, but most of their other weapons are just as popular. Their Lux 92. and 52. Gal come in many different colours and accessories, taking Splatville by storm.

(I wonder, if they ever release a REEF-LUX, would it be called the REEF-LUX²?)

[nicklloydnow]

“What is it about King’s writing that appeals to so many people? Clearly, King’s readers — many of whom seem to get hooked on him when they are adolescents — don’t care that the sentences he writes or the scenes he constructs are dull. There must be something in the narrative arc, or in the nature of King’s characters, that these readers can’t resist. My sense is that King appeals to the aggrieved adolescent, or the aggrieved nerdy adolescent, or the aggrieved nerdy adult, who believes that people can be divided into bad and good (the latter would, of course, include the aggrieved adolescent or adult), a reader who would rather not consider the proposition that we are all, each of us, nice good people awash in problems and entirely capable of evil. King coddles his readers, all nice, good, ordinary, likeable people (just like the heroes of his books), though this doesn’t completely explain why these readers are so tolerant of the bloat in these novels, why they will let King go on for a couple hundred pages about some matter that has no vital connection to the subject of the book.

(…)

Why, I wondered again, do some people in the literary business regard this extremely successful writer of genre fiction as a first-rate writer of literary fiction, a “major” contributor to American literary culture? How is it possible that a novel as bloated and mediocre as 11/22/63 is can be deemed by the New York Times Book Review as one of the five best books of fiction of the year? Do we fear being labeled “elitist” or “liberal” if we don’t reward commercial success in other ways (as if an enormous advance and a river of royalties are not reward enough)? Or do we believe that commercial success on the King scale signifies, almost by definition, quality, the way a 20,000 square-foot house supposedly signifies to passersby that the owners must be important?

(…)

By bestowing rewards on writing that is not all that good, has not the literary establishment lowered standards and pushed even further to the margins writing that is actually good and beautiful? If you ask me whether it is worth your while to read Stephen King instead of (or even in addition to) scores of other better contemporary writers you may have never read (and should hurry up and read before you die), I would say no, unless you are maybe fifteen and have made it clear to your teachers and everybody else that you aren’t going to touch that literary “David Copperfield kind of crap” with a ten-foot pole.”

“Director Daphné Baiwir gathers these guys — more than 20, it’s a convocation — and clips from their handiwork to build a monument to King’s importance. Few of these testimonies address King’s literary quality, only his cultural impact (from Cujo and Stand by Me to Needful Things, which spawned the non-King streaming series Stranger Things). Baiwir correctly begins with irony: King’s literary reputation comes from movie adaptations. “It all started with Carrie,” says Mick Garris (the TV adept who directed small-screen versions of Bag of Bones, Desperation, Sleepwalkers, The Stand, and The Shining). “The book was not well known until [Brian] De Palma’s movie came out. The movie blew me away. It was so great.” Frank Darabont concurs: “It was the movie that really brought a lot of attention to Steve’s work.”

(…)

King’s popularity straddles both film and literature and has done so for a long time. (Scott Hicks raves, “He’s like the Charles Dickens of the 20th and 21st century.”) This could be the basis for a good argument in favor of democratic art — folklore made by Maine’s most famous author — although Baiwir’s opening sequence foolishly imitates a film set in “King world,” where backwoods eccentrics drink “American Grain” whiskey, referring, I guess, to William Carlos Williams’s In the American Grain. It’s a stretch, and Baiwir’s strained pretense eventually snaps. No one at the convocation remembers Edgar Allan Poe, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Herman Melville, William Faulkner, or Flannery O’Connor. Instead, the most worshipful filmmakers indulge King’s own real-world politics — especially when paying tribute to The Dead Zone and Children of the Corn.

Encomiums start with “he loved common people, folksy people, he’s got that down pat.” They go on: “He doesn’t condescend to middle America, and I think that’s very important. In many ways he’s a man of the people.” But they fall for King’s junkiness: Ignoring how the warring duo of Misery resembles a feminist-revenge version of Robert Aldrich’s mature, complex What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? It gets worse when The Dead Zone appeals to their current political paranoia: “Nations go insane.” They equate King’s anti-religious fantasies (It, The Stand) to George Romero’s racial zombie allegory in Night of the Living Dead. The fanboys make typical Hollywood-liberal partisan analogies, decrying Donald Trump’s populism, then hysterically anoint King as a political visionary: “Like Bob Dylan, [he] is a dreamer of America. He contains the entirety of it and sort of dreams in the language of the chaos of America.” Garris warns, “When you apply fear — paranoia, aggression happens. The veneer of civilization gets ripped away very quickly.” He praises The Stand as “a counter myth to the Rapture.” Tod Williams crowns King “prophet of the apocalypse.”

It’s silly, yet appalling, that schlockmeister King, always threatening to be taken seriously, should be seriously regarded by unserious, unthinking people. King on Screen platforms naïve fanboys who embellish their own childish superstitions.”

[monsterfucker-lisa-swallows]

not to disappoint even more classic tv fans, but i don’t understand the appeal of cheers. at all. i recently tried watching it for the first time because that’s one of our cultural touchstone comedies - it ran for 11 seasons after all - but absolutely found about 99% of it unfunny and bordering on terrible. i watched all of the first 8 seasons, thinking that perhaps i just had to wait for it to find its footing, but netflix inevitably cut me off before i could get started on season 9. (it says it was just pulling the show at the beginning of july, but i know it was trying to preserve my sanity specifically.)

i watch plenty of shows about terrible people, but the difference is those shows are generally considered to be satire and we’re supposed to know we shouldn’t emulate the actions of people in it. you’re not supposed to want to be gob bluth or ben chang. but sam malone is presented completely without critique. well, i shouldn’t say that. a couple of times, just for giggles, his overt sexuality is used as a gag about his mental state, but this is always brushed over and never used for any considerable development on his part. i wouldn’t even classify those rare moments when he turns down sex because the girl is drunk or emotionally vulnerable as real development, that’s just decency. and not even real decency, because apparently he can’t help but steal rebecca’s bra during it all.

sam resorts constantly to overt manipulation in order to get sex, and it’s constantly condoned. it was egregious enough when it was toward an employee, but it’s almost as if his proximity to a female boss reduces her. rebecca is consistently belittled, undermined, and harassed - and if you pay attention to the laugh track, that’s the joke. she’s presented as a strong woman then reduced to a weeping gold digger who is bad at her job and ultimately gets it taken away from her after she’s conned and is demoted to a waitress. and this is supposed to be funny. there is a whole episode dedicated to gaslighting her about whether she’s being sexually harassed by a married man in which the joke is that we all know she is but are supposed to laugh at how unhinged she gets. nobody ever believes her.

diane wasn’t much better. diane was a prime example of the show’s anti-intellectualism. it’s a very specific microcosm this show seems catered to - people who are both elitist and anti-intellectual. because at one end of the spectrum, we’re supposed to laugh at people like coach and woody and anyone who (like sam) didn’t get a high school diploma, but we’re also supposed to laugh at people like diane or frasier or cliff who dare to know things. it does still perpetuate that tired comedy trope of the bumbling buffoon psychologist who doesn’t know what he’s talking about and has mommy issues. 

frasier and norm are both examples of toxic men causing terrible relationships with their wives. they consistently undermine and belittle them for laughs and this is treated as something that men “just do”. even sam falls into this behavior pattern with women.

there’s also carla’s weird relationship with her ex nick. there are multiple episodes that begin with him trying to come back into her life where the mid point of the episode is all the characters trying to convince her to give him another chance despite literally cheating on her and treating her like dirt then ends with her either figuring out that she doesn’t need him or being let down again. the cycle is over and over again as if nobody is capable of remembering.

ultimately none of the characters are particularly likeable or relatable. they come off as shallow caricatures of people. diane is the best example of this. the elitist college educated snob who apparently doesn’t know what she’s talking about. constantly undermined by everyone.

which goes into my next point that i’m not sure if any of them are actually friends. the cultural reference has always been that you want to find your cheers where everyone knows you and you’re among friends. but these people go beyond good-natured ribbing to being outright mean and insulting. i tell you that i wouldn’t want to find my cheers, and that’s not the only reason.

i’m sure there’s meant to be some point in there that these people are all sad, washed up drop outs. but not enough is done to develop that. we don’t get the depth of character that, say, shows like community get. we’re supposed to sympathize and like these characters without expecting them to be better. and that, in my opinion, can cause people to think their actions are acceptable. again i point to the laugh track. if you want to know what actions a comedy writer thinks are acceptable, listen to the laugh track. is the joke about what the character said or is it specifically a way to undermine and belittle another character? the laugh track in cheers specifically seems to be saying ‘yes, this is an acceptable way to talk about women, please continue to encourage rebecca, your boss, to get plastic surgery on her breasts and poke at her insecurity’.

i’ve almost started believing this show takes place in the bad place and the characters are all being punished.

anyway, netflix cut me off. probably for the best.

[duncandriver]

John Lennon, Yoko Ono, Art and Populism

​​I. ‘Are you advertising peace or John Lennon?’

 On Thursday December 4, 1969, John Lennon and Yoko Ono were officially ‘home to all callers�� in their London office. A BBC camera crew were documenting their comings and goings for a program entitled 24 Hours in the World of John and Yoko, and they captured a heated argument between Lennon and Gloria Emerson, a correspondent for the New York Times who had formerly been posted to Saigon. Emerson had published an article the previous week outlining Lennon’s return of his award of Member of the Order of the British Empire (M.B.E.) ‘as a protest against Britain’s role in the Nigerian civil war and the British political support of the United States in Vietnam’. She drew attention to a ‘flippant note’ attached to the award and the fact that Lennon did not make his protest in person, choosing instead to ‘sen[d] his chauffer in a white Mercedes [to Buckingham palace] to return the medal’. The critical tone of these comments became incendiary as Emerson confronted Lennon in person, attacking his ‘very big advertising campaign for peace’ and accusing him of naiveté, dilettantism and self-importance. She spoke in exasperated and frustrated tones throughout, like an adult coping with an ignorant child. Her last salvo was particularly stinging: ‘I can’t think of anyone who seems more remote from the ugliness that’s happening than you … If you were interested and committed and not too cowardly you might conceivably make a difference’. Ono attempted to persuade Emerson that what may have seemed flippant in Lennon’s actions was in fact a calculated attempt to defuse violence with humour, but the journalist remained censorious, leaving with the parting shot, ‘Mrs. Lennon, we’re boring each other, so I’ll go away’.

The scene above opens this consideration of Lennon and Ono’s art and activisim because it exemplifies the provocative and contradictory qualities of their ‘happenings’ (a popular term within the lexicon of the ‘60s avant-garde) from the early years of their marriage (c. 1969-1971). It also serves to illustrate the ways in which their art from this period both courted and resisted populism, a contentious term which is understood here in two senses: first, as an attempt to engage and unify ‘the people’ against a corrupt and self-serving elite; second, as a force that appeals to popular tastes through accessible art/entertainment that may be set against the demands of more exclusive or elite art forms.

As he argued with Emerson, Lennon asserted his commitment to the peace movement by attacking the alienating elitism of her ‘middle-class gestures for peace and intellectual manifestos’ and arguing for the gimmicks of his and Ono’s ‘advertising campaign’ as a more effective means of galvanising the people into action. His argument is persuasive, particularly when set against Emerson’s condescending tone (Lennon calls her a ‘snob’). If populism courts ‘the people’ with art that is easy to enjoy, then Lennon’s and Ono’s effort to package aspects of performance and political protest as a marketable product – peace – would indeed appear intentionally populist just as Lennon’s returning of his M.B.E. implied a public rejection of the elite (represented here by Buckingham Palace as a metonym for the British ruling class).

The scene that plays out is more complicated than this, however. If, for example, an elitist art is one that defamiliarises, frustrates or alienates its audience, then Emerson’s bemused response to Lennon and Ono’s efforts may be seen to complicate their claim to populism. Her adverse reaction was not untypical of the way audiences responded to the demands of Lennon’s and Ono’s work, moreover, and much to their chagrin. Emerson’s accusation of self-aggrandising inauthenticity may have been warranted: ‘Are you advertising peace or John Lennon?’, she asks, and the question remains unanswered by Lennon, echoing in the large London office and resonating through this investigation’s three parts. The question prompts a compelling case for Lennon and Ono themselves as elitist manipulators of ‘the people’ more than their representatives. It is such complications that will be examined, first by recognising Lennon and Ono’s achievements and stated intentions  (Part II) and then by acknowledging some of the effects of their actions (Part III).

[thesinglesjukebox]

KACEY MUSGRAVES - HIGH HORSE [7.38] You can take your high... scorse... and ride them straight... onto the sidebar, Kacey.

Lauren Gilbert: I am a connoisseur of song intros. Long before I wrote for TSJ, or any publication, I had lists of my favorite intros, playlists of just the first 30 seconds clipped out of context. (Needless to say, my ringtone game has always been on point.) This is a fucking excellent intro. The pulsing beat, the disco feel, the Shania Twain "oh, I bet you think you're John Wayne" - the intro is a solid [12]. The rest of the song is probably an [8] - despite being only 3:33, it feels like it runs out of ideas by the bridge - but this still averages to a solid [10]. [10]

Jonathan Bradley: "High Horse" is about as disco as Kylie Minogue's "Dancing" was country: that is conscientiously and carefully, without threatening to intrude too far upon unfamiliar cultural spaces. Instead each settles on a kind of naff AM-radio appeal that as easily positions it alongside "Islands in the Stream" as it does "September" or even "Copacabana." But where Minogue's song stirs nostalgia, the faded polyester drift of Musgraves's more Western sound fits her lyric's exhausted contempt. The opening line -- "I bet you think you're John Wayne" -- is sass worthy of Shania, but Kacey's disaffection crystallizes in her more arch dismissal: "You're classic in the wrong way." The hand claps, popping bass, and very canned strings underline the point. [8]

Alfred Soto: The question isn't whether Musgraves should record a Kylie-dusted cut like "High Horse"; it's whether the cut is better than middling at best beside Brandy Clark's unskinny bop fryin' up some girl's bacon in 2016. [6]

Joshua Copperman: I have qualms with "High Horse" that are more personal preference than genuine criticisms (I would love a more dynamic arrangement, for example), but I feel too late. Like "Run Away With Me" or "Praying," the place of "High Horse" in the modern pop canon was secured upon arrival. Musgraves sets up and lands every punchline, no matter how corny ("I bet you think you're first place/someone should give you a ribbon") or vague ("everyone knows someone who knows someone/Who thinks they're cooler than everybody else"). The song could literally consist of "I bet someone's got a bad case of the Mondays" repeated but Musgraves would still make it work. That the delivery is as good as it is separates Musgraves from both her country peers and her should-be pop contemporaries. With its meticulous craftsmanship and unapologetic twang, "High Horse" is great not despite being country, but because of how it stays true to the storytelling of classic country music while forging its own path. [8]

Abdullah Siddiqui: Fun, but vacant. Musgraves sounds unconvinced of her own pandering. And also, why is it considered innovation now, within a genre, to make things pinker and shinier? There was a kind of delicate grit to tracks like "Blowin' Smoke" and "Merry Go 'Round" that was genuinely interesting but she seems to have completely abandoned that. It's a little depressing to think how mainstream concessions are no longer just inevitable in the course of a musical career, but lauded as innovative. [4]

Ryo Miyauchi: Kacey's usual passive handling of conflict makes me wish this went a little harder on the personal with a more explicit hint that this may have actually been a diss at someone real. But the lyrical decorations from the Shania Twain-channeling opening line to that chorus full of silly twists to cowboy cliches forgive the lack at which she sinks her teeth. Oh, and the disco strut works wonders as well. [7]

Ian Mathers: Fun but slightly anemic-feeling pop country/lite disco hybrid seeks slightly more compelling chorus... the current one has a moment where it seems like it's about to lift off, but then it never does. Sometimes songs like this reveal with repeated listens that you've been tricked and in fact the gentler approach is key to the song; with "High Horse," as winning as it otherwise is, that just never happened for me. [6]

Stephen Eisermann: In my childish mind, this song is a big middle finger to everyone's least favorite country music critic/villain: the one who decides what real country music is and is trying so hard to save it (from bold women, it often feels like). This disco-flavored, pop-country track has all the makings of an anthem, but is delivered with such chilliness that rather than chant along, you can't help but let Kacey take the center stage to deliver each biting line with as much pettiness as possible. It's delicious, but also impressive - who thought that one of country's most recent rising stars could foray into pop so easily? [8]

Katherine St Asaph: Whenever country or country-leaning artists are poised to cross over, there's a certain tension, as they try (or don't) to reconcile the genre's Southern-libertarian values with mainstream pop culture. Comparisons to "That Don't Impress Me Much" are inevitable and probably intentional, but "get off your high horse," as an idiom, isn't about ego but moralizing. And buried in the guts of "High Horse" is the trope of the elitist carpetbagger from out of town who looks down upon the regular everyfolks -- a trope with, to put it mildly, baggage. (Also a trope where pointing it out is liable to get you branded one of them.) But it's left unexplored, subtext beneath a lyric of generalities; there's nothing as cartoonish as "I can't believe you kiss your car goodnight," but also nothing as vicious. Same goes for the lite-disco arrangement. [6]

Edward Okulicz: It's kind of a pity this song has to be disco to get the attention, because it's a neat little pop song to begin with, and the way it's been performed doesn't put that cleverness front and centre. It's fine as it is, but it could stand to be more full-blooded in its trip to the nightclub. It's got the whole Shania Twain going on meets the Alanis Morissette of not quite understanding the word that's the linchpin of your chorus, and that is viral paydirt, but you know Shania wouldn't have been so polite. The banjo line at the end reminds me of a song this should also sound more like: Basement Jaxx's "Take Me Back to Your House" which came at the country/dance combo from the other end, and works better on both counts. The icy but dreamy vocal performance of "High Horse" says Musgraves is not slumming it for laughs in the genre, but it's still not too late to commission the appropriate remix to prove it (the Kue remix is close, but not quite). [8]

Josh Love: If you stare at the lyrics too long, the sense of "High Horse" starts to go a little wobbly. Where I'm from, people who are on their high horse are usually thought to be acting holier-than-thou, like moral scolds, and are therefore rarely concerned with seeming like "they're cooler than everybody else." It's doubly fortunate then that this song's real selling point is how sleek and effortless it sounds. Maybe the words don't altogether scan, but as a piece of popcraft "High Horse" is assembled seamlessly. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: A pure symbiosis of music and lyrics -- this fully commits to the disco-by-way-of-country aesthetic, which allows Musgraves' portrait of arrogance to turn from just another riff on "You're So Vain" to an instant camp classic. It helps that this is deeply fun, from the "giddy-up"'s of the chorus to the guitar and banjo parts, which skitter across the track with such precise glee that it almost made me think that someone should make more country & disco records. [9]

Alex Clifton: I've tried writing a more coherent review, but I'm struggling because I love this so much. So: it's everything I've ever wanted as a queer person who lives in the south who loves both disco and country! Kacey sounds amazing! I wanna karaoke this and point at random people in the crowd and tell them off for being snobs! I wanna rent a truck and blast this up and down the road! I wanna rent a truck and take this to the White House and blare it there, too! I want every song that comes out this year to make me feel as jazzed about being alive as "High Horse" does, and I won't settle for anything less! [9]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[emma-what-son]

Emilia has more appeal because she comes off as approachable and warm. Emma might have Hermione fame but she often comes off as a snob and elitist. I have a feeling she's not liked that much in the industry both in the US and the UK. Both are weak actresses but Emilia is slightly better imo. She would be a better choice for Belle.

Emilia definitely would’ve made Belle a bit warmer. Many people thought that Emma’s Belle seemed snobby.

[curriebelle]

a post going around: i dont want percy to be ioun’s champion b/c he’s an intellectual elitist who used his knowledge to make a bad thing

8)

- the very first thing Percy did upon seeing Ioun’s labyrinth was admit he felt bad for being skeptical of Ioun the day before. it was pretty much the definition of a humbling experience in terms of his rejection of gods. His doubt is finally gone.

-Percy says “this is everything, this is immortality” when he witnesses the labyrinth. Knowing that I doubt he’d accept a blessing from any other god, in the same way Pike wouldn’t want a blessing from anyone but Sarenrae. He understands the world through Ioun’s lens. Scanlan (the Popular Ioun Alternative) has only toyed with the immortality of knowledge through commissioning paintings of himself and writing epic poems about Vox Machina but he doesn’t understand the dark side of the proliferation of knowledge in the way Percy does.

-Also some people are saying Sprigg was designed purely to be Scanlan’s mirror and take him to Ioun or whatever, except Sprigg was Darrin dePaul’s character from like.....years ago, so......no.

-Percy has been constantly, constantly searching for the person who will understand the permanent impact of what he made and who will help him understand his fear over his legacy. This is literally the point his whole character development has been leading up to. It’s not what Scanlan’s has been leading up to, which is less about knowledge and its impact and way, way more about self-worth and communication. That’s why he was so interested in appealing to Sarenrae. He wants redemption, not immortality through knowledge. There is very little Ioun can do for him that another god couldn’t do better.

-nobody, not even Matt, has even thought of or mentioned Erathis once so far, and Percy is so enamored of Ioun’s realm I can’t imagine him choosing Erathis instead even if they do remember she exists.

-Percy is not proud of what he’s made, he’s horrified. The fact that he made something terrible in a moment of weakness means he knows how dangerous knowledge can be. He understands the domain of knowledge in the same way Vax understands death - because he has confronted it directly, inside himself.

-Also he’s purposefully controlling that bad knowledge as best he can b/c it is not realistic to destroy all the guns ever now that Ripley has spread them so he’s training a group who can use them properly and in defense of his home and he had a pretty big moral quandary over that and only did it to defend Whitestone from the dragons in the first place

-(Also I hate to pull this card but in terms of people using guns irresponsibly in Vox Machina Scanlan is way, way deeper in hot water there. He stole a gun and has been using it recklessly for a year without thought as to the repercussions.)

-Also yes Percy is an intellectual elitist in that he likes to be the smartest person in the room but he does not hoard knowledge (unless it is dangerous gun knowledge) which incidentally is what Ioun actually has a problem with. The moment he knows Tary speaks his nerdy language, they start making things together, and he teaches people to build his inventions at his side if necessary (see: the Umbrasyl trap and the trebuchets at Daxio).

-Also he is purposefully using his knowledge for the betterment of society on a broad scale. He spent the entire timeskip year building steam pipes for Whitestone and an early warning system for the Ashari and Emon and and he has constantly and subtly looked for little ways to make things that are good instead of destructive throughout the series (everything from Vax’s brooch to Viktor’s fake hand). I also imagine he’s taught other people to manage and use these systems/items since he couldn’t do those all himself.

-Also he has learned to incorporate magic into designs thanks to Tary and the early warning system so he is learning to appreciate it and get over his fears of its unreliability.

- The combat points actually come down in favour of Percy, not Scanlan, because Percy is going to need magic to fight Vecna, and I imagine Ioun would be able to convince him to rely on her magic in a way no other god could.

- Small thing, but still: Pelor/Ioun Vex/Percy parallels

- Even if I am completely wrong about this and Ioun is secretly gunning for Scanlan and is going to reject any of Percy’s appeals to be her champion, hoping that Percy gets rejected because he’s a snob is terrifying, because it’s literally the worst thing I can imagine happening to him at this point. He has worked so long and so hard to try and mitigate the effects of his invention, and he literally lost faith in gods because he thought they didn’t understand his fears. But Ioun understands his worldview perfectly. Can you imagine what it would do to Percy if Ioun said “sorry, you made one bad thing, and you are snobby about being smart, you can’t be my champion”. That will not make Percy humble. No, it’ll reinforce his thoughts that the gods can’t help him. Because Ioun, the goddess who brought him nearly to tears of joy with her realm and her manifestation, rejected him. His entire character arc is also about forgiveness, and what kind of downward spiral would it send him into if a god he basically loves at first sight can’t forgive him for what he has made?

Even though in my opinion it would completely derail both Scanlan and Percy’s character development to have Ioun choose Scanlan, I guess it could happen and I do see the counterarguments. But if it does go down that way I’m hoping that at the very least Percy can speak with her and gain some insight on his role in history and how to accept what he has created and what he has destroyed. Just flat-out hoping Percy gets rejected for Having an Ego seems like hoping something bad happens to Percy because you don’t like that particular character flaw. ugh.

[ao3feed-kyloren]

When The Crown Calls

read it on AO3 at http://ift.tt/2nS0pF6

by NutheadGee

Your father, considered the greatest general in the empire had passed away. He had served the first emperor, and the second emperor, Kylo Ren, both powerful Force users until his honorary death. He had been replaced by an elitist snob, General Armitage Hux, who despised you because your mother was part of the middle class and not nobility. The feeling was mutual, and when he immediately developed a bond with the Senior Adviser, Snoke, who you equally despised because of his questionable connection to Plapatine, the adviser that was there during the first emperor's reign, you animosity for then ran deeper.

The Emperor and his family, however, need you. His mother and his uncle sense the military strategic brilliance that made your father what he was, and that coupled with your fierce passion to protect the local people, would make you a very valuable asset since they, like you, also never trusted the new general and adviser.

Everything was going perfectly fine, until you were bombarded with the emperor's sex appeal, and his family's (with assistance from your mother) attempts at making you his empress. Not like this.

Words: 2877, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Kylo Ren, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Armitage Hux, Phasma (Star Wars), Rey (Star Wars), Finn (Star Wars), Snoke (Star Wars)

Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader of Color, Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags: Smut, Romance, Humour, Action/Adventure, Sarcasm, Some angst, Some Fluff, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Inappropriate Use of Lightsabers, Glove Kink, Dominant Kylo Ren, Orgasm Denial, Strong Female Characters, Finnrey, Rey is a Skywalker, Emperor!Kylo, Finn/Rey - Freeform, Dirty Talk, There Is A Lot Of Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2nS0pF6