#even though they started off as Charles like a decade apart they really do feel like the same character which is outstanding

[sbd-laytall]

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.05.24)

[readingrobin]

February really is a hell of a month. In my corner of the Earth, everyone's getting a little tired of the cold, anxiously looking forward to the longer days that are right around the corner. It's also too short, full of too many expectations, like trying to live up to the plans you made for yourself only just last month. Thankfully, that also means it's over quickly and March comes in with the hope of spring. Can't wait for all the green to come back to the grass and the trees.

Total Books Read: 6

Total Pages Read: 2, 144 pages

Total DNFs: 2

Books Read:

Silver in the Wood by Emily Tesh - (Review) (4/5)

A Conspiracy of Truths by Alexandra Rowland - (Review) (3/5)

Cry Wolf by Patricia Briggs - I've been a longtime fan of the Mercy Thompson series and, despite having it for almost a good decade now, I finally picked up the first book in this spinoff series. I will say, I think introducing the main characters in a short story separate from this book wasn't exactly the best decision, as there's a lot of confusion around who these characters are and what the basis of their story is. I'm not a fan of authors introducing important plot or character developments in short stories apart from the main series, as it's a pain to track them down in these obscure anthologies and makes the full length book seem incomplete.

Coming into this new series, I couldn't help but do some comparing to Mercy's. A little unfair, I know, but sometimes it can't be helped. Anna doesn't really come off as an interesting, strong protagonist and, to an extent, neither does Charles, far cries from Mercy, who always gives a good range of personality. From the first page, Anna and Charles are in instalove, so their relationship doesn't go through any worthwhile developments other than "Hey, we're in wolfy love now, guess we don't need to do any more emotional work on our behalf." It's just….how do you make a relationship interesting when they're automatically together? What hurdles do they face? What doubts? What hesitation? Hell, Anna has gone through trauma from sexual assault and being passed around her previous pack like a broodmare and that's not even expanded upon or how it may effect her relationship with Charles. It just ends up feeling so hollow. (3/5)

Young Men in Love edited by Joe Glass and Matt Miner - This is such a cute collection of queer romance comics made by queer creators for a queer audience. It focuses on male/masc couples through a variety of genres, ranging from more domestic stories to those featuring demon hunters, pirates, ghosts, and so much more. While not every story was a hit, it's rare for an anthology to be completely perfect, there is such an honesty to each one of them that you can't help but give them all a slight bit of admiration. Some standout stories include "Second Star to the Right," "Another Name," "Act of Grace," "The Way Home," and "Love Yourself." (4/5)

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers - (Review) (4/5)

The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke - Though I've been a Cornelia Funke fan since I was in middle school, this was one of her books I didn't grow up reading, which may have lessened the impact of it somewhat. The fantastical elements are pushed more to the background compared to her other books, and the magic comes more from the transportive descriptions of Venice. There was an interview in the back of my copy with Funke where she said that she wanted to create a book where children could actually go see the setting for themselves, which is a great way to introduce them to the wonders of their own world. And yet, somehow it felt like it overshadowed the characters a bit, who didn't really grab my attention.

Ultimately, the story didn't do much for me and I had the thought that I had read better versions of these themes in other books, most notably Something Wicked this Way Comes. Personally, I just think I started this book a tad too late. Though points to Funke for giving it a sort of odd, unconventional ending. (3/5)

DNFs:

The Rosie Project by Graeme Simsion - This book was given to me by a friend about 10 years ago and I only got around to reading it since I wanted to declutter my shelves a bit. I'm not real big on stories where romance is the main element, but I wanted to give it a fair shot.

Ultimately, I decided to put it down because I'm a little tired of the straight white male with thinly veiled misogyny representation of autism, especially when the understanding and conversation around neurodivergence has changed so much since this was written. Autism is a very wide spectrum, but apparently media is focused on only showcasing this particular manifestation, coming from writers that are not autistic, nor do they cite any research done in the autistic community to make their characters more authentic. And, judging from reviews I've seen of later installments of this series, it only gets worse.

Also, very much not interested in male writers that cannot write women to save their life. Got no time for that.

And the Ocean Was Our Sky by Patrick Ness - Beautiful illustrations aside, there's not much that interested me in this book which I could have finished if I gave it another half hour, but didn't really see the point. I haven't read Moby Dick, nor do I think I ever will, so the appeal of seeing that story from the whale's perspective wasn't an incentive. That and there are so many confusing elements that make the story too absurd to take seriously: why do the whales swim upside down, how do they have harpoons tied to their bodies when they're incapable of tying them themselves, how do these whales even know how to speak to humans? I think it's a story where you're not meant to think too hard about the logistics, but I couldn't help questioning it on nearly every page.

Average Rating: (3.5/5)

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jack Bass x Younger!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Bass's.

Notes:

I have no idea when this is supposed to be set. Just go with it.

I have two things to say about Jack in this gif, though. 1. Does he not know how to carry a tray. And 2. I love this statement, here. Its like 'Bart's Dead, Chuck. I can barely contain my joy, Chuck. Its taking all my willpower, Chuck, to keep a monotonous expression. Also Chuck I am carrying a tray, do you see this?'

Plot: Bart Bass decides to be his creepy fucking self (Not that Jack is exponentially better in any way but whatever) towards you, Chuck's best friend- but thankfully, Jack accidentally walks in on the scene and gives you a get out of jail free card.

Good old 'lesser of two evils' shit. I love stuff like that.

Warnings: BART BASS being predatory, and a bit of age difference (You and Jack. I'm going by actors ages though so there's only a, like, 11 year age gap between him and Chuck which is not that bad if you ask me). Sexual references.

~~~

Chuck looks from his phone, that's flashing Blairs name, to you and your big, wide eyes and lips mouthing 'Don't you dare', then to his father quietly tapping away on his phone on the couch a few feet away... then back at his phone.

"Charles- " You hiss, prepared to threaten his very existence but he cuts you off first- slipping off the bar stool beside you and heading for the hallway.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom."

Why am I friends with him again!? You think, but stay quiet and hope that Bart doesn't realise that you're back there despite having said hello to you earlier when he came in. You think, if you stay quiet like a mouse, he will forget your existence and keep texting until Chuck gets back- although, who knows how long he and Blair can go on for.

Depends what its about, honestly. If its about revenge or espionage... well, the conversation could last quite some time.

Should I just leave?

The impulse to run away is a strong one, as you sit there with your cheeks heating up and you start to feel nauseated. You never liked Bart Bass, from the moment you met him. Before that, actually. You had heard Chuck talking about him to Nate before you even became friends with them, and none of what you heard was good. And then you did meet him, one day when Chuck invited you over to do a school project. Or 'school project' as he so obnoxiously put it. You really did end up just doing a school project, though. Hence your friendship nowadays. Bart was creepy towards you even then, at 16 with terribly died hair and the wrong eyeshadow.

You've been very careful since then to never be alone with him like this. You would talk to him at parties if you were forced to, say hello to him when Chuck had you at his place and the man walked by, but that is the extent of your communication with the creep. Always, always, someone would be around. Chuck, mostly. But also staff, or Nate, or random fundraiser ladies, or Jack who Chuck the bastard never left alone with all willy-nilly like this, unfortunately, or Lily, or literally anyone else possible on the earth.

You've even hidden away in the men's bathroom, which is disgusting no matter how expensive the restaurant, with Nate before to get away from this man when Chuck once ditched you both at a dinner with him. And that's the story of how you got your first kiss, too, and it was from Nate Archibald. Hell yes.

That's how much this man makes you want to grab your bag and flee.

But you don't. You stay glued to your seat, super still, listening only to the tap-tap-tapping noises that Bart makes and the bump-bump-bump noises your heart is making right into your throbbing ears.

Until it stops.

Not the bump-bump-bumping, oh no. The tapping. And, nightmarishly, it's replaced by a groan and footsteps coming towards your turned back.

"Y/N," As soon as he says your name, his hands fall on your your shoulders and you literally jump under his touch. Shit- Shit- Fuck- what's happening- "I've been meaning to speak with you recently but Chuck- ah. Well you know him. He refused to share with me your telephone number. But I knew you'd turn up here at some point, so not to worry."

"Uh... right." You cant even force yourself to be your normal, cheery, polite self in this position. You just want him to get. off. of. you.

"Did you want a drink?" He asks, in that possibly cheery (But only because its slightly louder then his usual husk level) but mostly still scary voice he uses to convey emotion, letting go of you thankfully and rounding to the other side of the bar. You shake your head, though. He raises his brows, picking out a scotch for himself. "You don't drink? Shocking, seeing as you're friends with my son."

Oh I drink. You think, giving him a shrug. Just not in situations like this one. Also, what must he think of Chuck? Jesus Christ. For sure, your boy likes debauchery but what's wrong with that?

"Well, I like that." Bart pauses before pouring his drink, to appreciate you. "Mature."

Damn it. It makes your skin absolutely crawl.

"So... " You take a deep breath, tucking your hair back behind your ears rather then ruffling it back like you usually would to get it out of your face- lest that be recognised as some kind of extremely subtle form of flirting. God, fear makes you think weird things. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Oh- Just, your future. Where are you going to school? Will you be sticking close to us?"

Us? US? No, I'll be far far away, from you.

You don't really want to tell Bart where you're going to be going to school, because in your fear addled brain you know that that will just lead to 'Which campus?', or 'Where will you be staying?' and you really don't want it to go there.

You're just taking another, shakier deep breath, when the front door of the apartment opens and shuts loudly and set of feet trample down the hallway towards you. Immediately total relief plashes over you and you wipe your face. Oh, thank god.

Jack Bass appears in the doorway to the living room, looking as put-together yet somehow simultaneously still totally relaxed, as always, and forces aa polite smile onto his handsome face. "Brother. Y/N? Its good to see you."

You have no idea. "Good to see you too Jack. Uh- Chuck's in the bathroom."

"Thanks. For that... enlightening, information, Y/N. I needed that." You cheeks flare up in embarrassment, but ultimately you just roll your eyes as Jack flashes you a subtle wink, and turns promptly to his - much, - older brother. "Bart."

The older brother in question looks less then pleased at his baby brothers appearance in his home. Right now. And he possibly isn't thrilled about that little wink, either. Like you two are in on some kind of joke together. "Jack... What are you doing here?"

"Simmer down, bro. Just visiting." Even you know that that excuse is weak, but anything that comes out Jack's own monotonous voice right now is blessed where you're concerned so you certainly don't say anything. Or make any faces, which would be more appropriate. "Y/N, I don't think Bart-man here's too happy about my presence." Hm, no. You'd have to agree with that observation- not that you've looked up at Bart since Jack came in. You wont risk it. Jack glides through the room with the practised grace of a man who's lived 3 quarters of his life in suits and the other, happier quarter in board shorts, and ends up right next to your chair, an arm resting on the bench in front of you.

If you weren't already so nervous about Bart, you would blush about Jack.

"At least tell me you're glad to see me."

You grin, which is less forced then you thought it would be prior to trying it. Damn, he's good. You think, realising he just swepped in here and made you comfortable in less then 50 words. "Always, 'Uncle Jack'."

"Oh," He groans, like it physically pained him to hear you tease him like that. A tiny smirk even slips through his usually emotionless - well, not emotionless. He has one standing colour, that being sly, - stone statue of a face. "'Uncle Jack'- Please, stop. I'm barely a decade older then you."

That's enough to make anything else possible, inappropriate. Unfortunately. "Hey, I said I'm glad to see you." You wink, a bit sly yourself. "Count your blessings."

His grin widens a bit, like the dangerously charming Cheshire cat-type that he is. Genes that Chuck inherited, clearly, if his track record with girls say anything at all, but that Bart obviously missed out on. "You've got a point."

"She's a remarkable young woman." Bart pipes up, making your stomach tie itself up in knots again, and you immediately revert your gaze to your lap. Remarkable young woman... you want to barf. "Who, I was actually having a conversation with before you burst in here, unannounced." He takes a slow sip of his drink, then mutters. "And uninvited."

"Well that's great." Jack straightens up, clapping his hands together and finally showing his teeth in a smile. They're really freaken white, compared to his skin, deeply tanned by the hot Australian sun. "A visit would be kinda uncomfortable without a conversation; I'll join. I can converse with the best of 'em, Bart. I assure you."

"It was private." The old man sneers, thinking that he's got the upper hand on Jack, and all you can do is hope to god that he's wrong.

Jack turns his head back to look at you, and you meet his gaze tentatively. Your eyes scream, 'Please don't leave me alone with that guy'. He promptly looks back to Bart. "Well Bart why don't we ask the lady in the room what she wants? We are gentlemen here aren't we?" Then Jack makes a face, all crumpled up and unsure, for a moment. "Err. Well actually... 'gentleman' might be a bold faced lie. We'll ask anyway. Y/N! Do you mind if I weigh in here?"

"Not at all." You say quickly, flashing a tiny, thankful smile. He gives you another wink- this time actually subtle. So Bart didn't see it. Your smile gets a little bit bigger, relaxing. He's got you.

"Great." You watch him pull out the stool beside you, that Chuck - who has still not returned from his phone call with Blair. You assume some, likely cruel vengeance must be involved. Possibly involving that Humphrey guy, - had vacated and settles down in it. He then sets his arms firmly on the bench and looks up attentively at Bart, not breaking eye contact with him. Boy these Bass's like their stare downs. "So?" He prompts, expectantly. And a little arrogantly- a Bass speciality that you truly don't mind at all. "What's on the agenda, today?"

Bart glares heatedly, back.

~

Throughout the awkward discussion between the three of you, which your good friend Chuck has yet to return to discover - at this point you're resigned to him having climbed out the window and scaled the building probably, - , Jack constantly, skilfully changes the subject for you whenever Bart rears to close to somewhere uncomfortable. He makes jokes that make you laugh, he nudges you with his elbow at times - but never touches you any more then that, although you honestly wouldn't mind it if he did, - and takes the attention off you a lot. At times you truly thought you saw steam come out of Bart's ears.

When finally Bart gives up and excuses himself, saying he as an early dinner with Lily, you feel exhausted and relieved. After the door swings shut behind him, you cover your face with your hands and deeply sigh.

"So, what was that about? You looked like a trapped mouse. I recognise that look, I invented that look." You pull back slightly from your hands and glance over at him, to see him thoughtful for a moment. "Well, not by making it. By... causing... it... Either way, it was not good." He shakes his head, taking a sip of his own drink - scotch, - that he made Bart pour for him; Raising his eyebrows at you for an explanation over the rim of the glass.

Jack's always been great, like this. Even when he was horrible, he was the lesser of two evils between him and Bart. Good for a laugh and quality eye candy in a pinch- and that counts for a hell of a lot when it comes to surviving Bart Bass and the Upper East Side. And he had the power and pull of an adult, but knew what the hell was going on like one of you.

So he always made you feel at ease.

You ruffle your hair back, and sigh, straightening your back finally from their hunched over position they live in when you're uncomfortable and pushing back your shoulders. "He was just, saying some weird stuff... and Chuck disappeared to talk to Blair." At that, Jack nods in total understanding. Like ah, yeah. Got ya. Finally, you shrug. "He just makes me really uncomfortable. No offence, but I hate your brother."

As you watch Jack's eyes don't even flicker; He's totally on board with what you've said. Then he finishes the rest of his scotch in one gulp. "Ahh- I hate him too."

"As do we all." Chuck's voice suddenly pops up, as he appears in the doorway like Jack had earlier. You have to practice some serious self control so as to not laugh, at Chuck so coincidentally turning up again at the perfect moment to proclaim his hatred for his father. Jack grins back at Chuck coldly, nodding. Yeah. "Anyway, Y/N, I apologise but I'll be having to abandon you. Blair's waiting for me at her, empty, apartment." He pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, in perfect Chuck Bass fashion, and you roll your eyes, grinning. Jack smirks. "But you're welcome to stick around a while and help yourself to the amenities All on my tab, of course. Good to see you again, Jack." Then he pockets his phone and heads toward the door. The second Bass of the day leaves the building.

"Bye, nephew!" Jack waives as the elevator doors close behind Chuck then swiftly turns around back to you, to which you raise your eyebrows. "So, what do we do now?"

"I dunno." Shrugging you grin and turn your stool to angle your legs towards Jack. "When Chuck says those magical words 'All on my tab'," Those words, oh; You speak them with just as much raw, breathy sexual arousal as the man himself would. As the words demand. 'All on my tab'. Good lord, sex if they were words. "I tend to take advantage."

"An easy girl to please; That's what I like to see." Your cheeks flame up at those words out of Jack's mouth as he turns to look down at the room service menu. Yes, Jack Bass has toed the line, between platonic and flirtatious since the very moment you met the man... but that seemed a little bit more then toeing the line.

And you get a far different reaction to him doing it then you do the other Bass brother.

You don't even really mind the implications of his words.

"You're staying back with me?" You ask, feeling hopeful at the idea.

"Yeah well, I cant in, uh, good conscience," He makes a bit of a show to you, of pressing his hand to his chest totally earnestly as those words 'good conscience' come out of his mouth. "leave you here unguarded in case Bart comes back, can I? Besides, the way you said 'All on my tab'- man, you could sell moonshine at an AA meeting with that voice."

"Ha," You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "Well, thanks."

"Oh. Don't thank me. You're just using what uh, your mama gave you. I actually encourage you totally, to do that more often- "

"No!" You exclaim, sighing in exasperation; But there is still a smile on your face you cant seem to shake. "For not leaving, today. When you walked in. It would've sucked if you had, not that I would've blamed you at all."

"Hey, just call me your knight in shining armour." He doesn't look up from the menu, flicking through it. Then turns to you with one of those beach boy/politician, toothless grins of his. "Besides you were automatically, my favourite person in the apartment. I mean, anyone with... uhhh- different, appendages to what I have, instantly gets a one-way ticket access to my rare bouts of chivalry. Now come over here, pick out what you want off here."

You just gape at him and that comment, making him stifle a laugh and return to the menu himself.

Bass's.

[literallymechanical]

Book Recommendations? Book Recommendations!

This is the list of books I've read during the pandemic, and let me tell you, I am doing all sorts of decision paralysis on what I should read next. If any of y'all vibe with these, do you have anything you'd recommend? Other than the obvious sequels. Ideally nothing too YA-ish, right now.

In reverse chronological order: Skyward, Ancillary Justice, A Desolation Called Peace, A Memory Called Empire, Spinning Silver, Empress of Forever, Red Mars, The Priory Of The Orange Tree, This Is How You Lose The Time War, Harrow the Ninth, Gideon the Ninth, Rhythm of War, Dawnshard, The Ruin of Angels, and Four Roads Cross. I've put a little review of each of them under the cut!

Skyward, by Brandon Sanderson, 2018. Your usual story about an outcast, misunderstood teenage girl finding an injured dragon and nursing it back to health, except instead of a dragon it's a starfighter spaceship. Really solid YA scifi with Sanderson's trademark meticulous worldbuilding. An enjoyable read, though much lighter than his usual epic fantasy.

Ancillary Justice, by Ann Leckie, 2013. Honestly, I didn't enjoy this one. It was pitched as a queer science fiction space opera, but the "queer" bit was gimmicky and falls apart if you think about it, I didn't find the characters interesting, and the plot didn't even try to hide that it was just a list of checkboxes. Felt like a YA novel that refused to admit it. This is the only book on this list that I personally wouldn't recommend. But all my friends seemed to enjoy it, so I might be the odd one out here.

A Memory Called Empire and A Desolation Called Peace, by Arkadiy Martine, 2019 and 2021. The first two books in what will presumably be a trilogy, and the best stories I've read in a long time. Twisty political thrillers wrapped up in gorgeous science fiction, and by FAR my favorite books on this list. Vibrant characters with nuanced relationships, scifi worldbuilding that is frankly breathtaking, a captivating story, and an all-around delight to read. Language, identity, colonialism/imperialism, and cultural assimilation are tackled through the lens of scifi. In my opinion, this is what science fiction should be. Also there are lesbians. Above every other book here I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THESE ONES. Martine seriously earned her Hugo Award.

Spinning Silver, by Naomi Novik, 2018. Folklore-fantasy about three young women — the daughter of a jewish moneylender, a poor peasant girl from an abusive home, and the daughter of a nobleman who wants to marry her to the Tsar — caught up in a conflict between the Faerie realms, the human world, and something much more sinister than either. Highly recommend, especially if you're jewish.

Empress of Forever, by Max Gladstone, 2019. A fantastical science fiction breakneck-pace adventure romp that puts its foot on the gas in Chapter 2 and doesn't let up. It's also quite explicitly a genderbent retelling of the classic Chinese epic Journey to the West, with more lesbians this time. This book has all kinds of energy, extremely fun characters with more depth than you'd expect, and some bonkers high-concept SF. Highly recommend if you like swashbuckling found-family adventure stories, and wlw romance.

Red Mars, by Kim Stanley Robinson, 1992. Every book, movie, and TV show about colonizing Mars since Red Mars was written owes pretty much everything to this book. It can be a bit dense if you're not up for lengthy (but gorgeous!) descriptions of Martian landscapes, and there are one or two bits where you just have to keep in mind that it was the 90's and this was quite progressive for its day. That being said, I am a sucker for a two-page description of a martian sunset. If crunchy hard-science fiction thrillers (emphasis on the "science") are your thing, I recommend this one. I'll read the sequels (Blue Mars and Green Mars) at some point.

The Priory of the Orange Tree, by Samantha Shannon, 2019. The prose and plot read like classic high fantasy, but with a modern eye towards character-driven storytelling. It's not often that you get something that feels so classic and so modern at the same time. Scratches that Lord of the Rings itch, with Queens and dragons and glorious heroes, but queer romance and a heavy focus on character development makes this a modern fantasy classic. Highly recommend if you like doorstopper-length high fantasy, and lesbians.

This Is How You Lose The Time War, by Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar, 2019. A novella, you can read it in a couple of days — or a single marathon sitting, if you get into it. Gladstone (same author as Empress of Forever) and El-Mohtar take turns writing letters back and forth from time-traveling spies of rival timelines: Red works for the post-singularity mechanical Agency, and Blue fights for the Garden, a post-solarpunk biofuture. Their letters start out as taunts, and gradually change in tone as each develops a grudging respect for her rival. That rivalry blossoms — or compiles — into something deeper. It's emotional and raw, and it cartwheels merrily down the tightrope of fantasy, science fiction, and poetry. Highly recommend, though the flowery prose and gleeful disregard for explaining itself to the audience might be off-putting for some.

Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir, 2019 and 2020. I'll let the pull quote from on the cover of Gideon from Charles Stross' review describe these: "Lesbian necromancers explore a haunted gothic palace in space! Decadent nobles vie to serve the deathless emperor! Skeletons!" This one is horrifying, and it's funny, but I wouldn't call it comedy-horror. It kind of defies genre, outside the very broadest scope of "science fantasy." Read it if you like lots of gore, graphic violence, madcap humor, and extremely unhealthy, codependent, dysfunctional relationships that are always on the verge of self-destructing into multiple-homicide. Highly recommend.

Rhythm of War and Dawnshard, by Brandon Sanderson, 2020. Rhythm of War is book 4 of the Stormlight Archives, one of several epic fantasy series by Brandon Sanderson. Dawnshard is a novella set between books 3 and 4. This is the same author as Skyward, but intended for a more mature audience. Stormlight is definitely my favorite epic fantasy series, and I've read a lot of epic fantasy. These books have some extremely interesting takes on racism, mental illness, trauma, disability, identity, family, and regret, far more so than pretty much any other high fantasy I've read. The first book is The Way of Kings, and if you like bigass doorstopper multi-book fantasy series, The Stormlight Archives should be at the top of your list.

Four Roads Cross and The Ruin of Angels, by Max Gladstone, 2016 and 2017. While Empress of Forever and Time War were standalone novels, these are books 5 and 6 in Gladstone's Craft Sequence, and they are absolutely brilliant. This is a world where about sixty years ago, humankind went to war with the Gods, and the Gods lost. "Magic" in this world is more or less synonymous with "legal contracts," where you can literally sell your soul to your student loan company and resurrecting a dead god is basically bankruptcy restructuring. "Necromancer" is roughly synonymous with "lawyer." The first five books can be read more-or-less out of order, but I recommend you start with Three Parts Dead. Gladstone is probably my favorite author these days. Everything he writes feel like it could be a poem. Also, once again, lesbians.

I am really not sure why about 2/3 of these books are about lesbians. Like seriously, I went into almost all of these books completely cold. The only ones where I knew ahead of time to expect lesbians were the Locked Tomb books, and The Priory of the Orange Tree. I don't know if this is just because a lot of modern scifi and fantasy has lesbians, or if all my friends who recommend me books are queer, or if it's just a coincidence, but hey, I'm not complaining.

[verai-marcel]

Do What I Dare (RDR2 Fanfic, Biker AU, Arthur x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: You've been dating Arthur for about four months now, and if you hadn't seen that photo of his biker gang, you wouldn't have guessed that he was once an outlaw. He's so gentle, polite, and kind to you that you didn't believe he had a wild side. A picnic out in the hills proves you wrong. 

Author’s Notes: Many thanks to @reddeaddufus for this amazing idea! So timeline-wise, this is happening during that six months when Journalist!Reader is still living in her apartment but she and Charles are already together. Cosplay!Reader & Javier got together a couple of weeks before this. And of course, the title is an obscure lyric; try and guess the song!

Tags: outdoor sex, mild exhibitionism, rough sex, dirty talk, some name calling, medium honor Arthur 

Find the AO3 link here, sweetheart.

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

Arthur had stopped by as he did every morning before opening, and after hearing that you were opening alone, immediately began helping you set up chairs and tables. He really was a great guy.

Usually Charles was here earlier than you, but this morning his lady friend was feeling ill, so he had texted you to ask if you could open up without him. You hoped everything was okay. At this point, you had met both Charles’ and Javier’s girlfriends and they were both nice people, though their personalities couldn’t be farther apart. One was bold and unafraid while the other was shy and had a bit of social anxiety. They were both fun to hang out with whenever the boys got together to talk about marketing.

While Arthur was handing you the mugs and glasses from the dishwasher so you could put them away, he spoke.

“You free on Sunday?”

“Yup! What’re you planning?” you asked.

“Well, the weather’s s’pposed to be nice, so I thought maybe we’d go on a bike ride up the ridgeway.”

“That sounds awesome! Should we make it a picnic?”

“Sure.” He paused before looking at you a bit shyly. “Can ya make some of those cucumber sandwiches?” he asked quietly.

“Of course,” you said happily.

“Thank you.”

You smiled. Arthur had never stopped being polite to you, even after dating him for the past four months. Together, the two of you finished getting everything ready just in time. 

“Lookin’ forward to Sunday,” Arthur said as he grabbed his jacket. He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek as you wrapped your arms around him for a quick hug before he left for work. Watching him go, you smiled as you opened the cafe to the public. 

***

The Ridgeway was a scenic road that went north and south through the state, with the most beautiful part being, in your humble opinion,  the section nearby that weaved past the lake and through some of the forest east of town. There were several viewpoints along the path for tourists to stop and gawk at the view, but the locals knew that the best part was going off the Ridgeway onto random roads to find secluded dead ends that then led to even better views, untainted by signs and trash.

You were clinging onto Arthur as he wove his way on his Indian Scout motorcycle. Remembering the first time he had shown you his bike, you smiled. At that time, you had been dating for a month and had never seen him drive anything; he had always met you somewhere or you came to his place. When he had asked if you wanted to go on a bike ride, you assumed he had meant a bicycle. Boy, were you wrong. When he had rolled up to your apartment on his matte black motorcycle and handed you a helmet, you had been shocked to your core. And also turned on as all hell; he had been wearing a leather jacket and dark blue jeans, motorcycle boots, and fingerless gloves.

It was the same outfit he was wearing now as the two of you rode up the road, the sound of the motor muffled by the helmet over your head. After a few more twists and turns along the Ridgeway, he finally turned onto an unmarked road that led to a small picnic area. It was originally made by a historical preservation society decades ago, but fell into disuse after a rock slide made the road unusable by car.

A motorcycle, however, could easily wind around the rocks and get past.

Through the trees and the debris the two of you went, until you reached the small clearing at the top of the hill. A small picnic bench with one forgotten trash can and two parking spots were here, along with a gorgeous view of the hills and valleys. You popped your helmet off and practically leapt off the bike, running to the picnic table and clambering on top of it like a kid. Surveying the scenery, you eventually pulled out your phone and took a panoramic photo.

“This is so cool, I didn’t even know about this place!” you squealed with delight.

Arthur chuckled. “Glad you like it, darlin’.”

Hopping down from the table, you took the picnic case from Arthur’s hands and started to help him set up. Tossing the picnic blanket over the table, the two of you laid out your feast: cucumber sandwiches, two beers, summer sausage, a bit of bison jerky, and some grapes.

The two of you ate and chatted, the comfortable air between you two allowing for the occasional pause, the silence filled with contentment. Soon your line of questioning started to veer towards his past, something that he rarely mentioned.

“So, is this the same bike you had in that photo on your wall?”

“Yup.”

After a few moments without him adding anything else, you tried to get some more out of him. “Wow. Would you ever trade it in?”

“Never.”

You tilted your head at him; he was only giving you one word answers and not elaborating. “Should I not ask about your past?”

Arthur sighed. “There were some good times, but in the end, things fell apart and we chose to get out. I still feel… guilty, I guess. We weren’t good people.”

You reached for his hand and held it with both of yours. “But you’re a good man on the inside,” you said quietly. “And you’re doing good now.”

He gave you a crooked grin. “I must be, if you’re stickin’ around.”

You laughed. “I don’t know, maybe I have a thing for bad boys.”

Arthur’s eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

“Yeah, maybe I secretly want a guy who’ll fuck me out in the open, get all raw and wild.” You waggled your eyebrows.

Laughing, Arthur stood up. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” you said with a wink. You stood up as well and helped him clean up. Once everything was back in the picnic case, you took it from him and set it aside. Climbing across the table, you knelt before him and took his head between your hands. “Kiss me.”

Arthur smiled and pulled you off the table and into his lap, your legs straddling his as he tangled his fingers in your hair and pushed your head closer to him. He nibbled your lips lightly at first, delicately playing with you as his other hand reached under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back. His kisses grew deeper as his touch became more insistent; the grip in your hair tightened as he pulled you closer to him, pressing you against his hard chest. 

He pulled away and gave you a naughty look before he took hold of the hem of your shirt. "Can I?" 

You obediently lifted your arms and let him pull the shirt over your head. He laid it down behind you before gently pushing you down on the table. Bending over to lay kisses along your collarbone, he pulled the cups of your bra down to expose your breasts to the cool air, your nipples hardening. Attracted to the sight, Arthur enveloped one in his mouth while he pinched and pulled gently on the other, making you moan and writhe underneath him. 

"Arthur," you sighed as he shifted, making sure both your nipples had equal attention from his talented tongue. Wrapping your legs around him, you pulled him closer to feel his cock straining in his jeans. 

He suddenly wrapped his arms around you and picked you up. "I got an idea, sweetheart."

Carrying you to his bike, he set you on your feet and turned you around. You understood what he wanted and felt a flush of heat as he started to undo the fly of your pants. He slowly slid them down your hips, just past the curve of your backside. 

"Bend over, darlin'," he crooned. You gladly did so, your tits hanging out over the side of his motorcycle seat. Sticking your ass out for him, you turned your head towards him and gave him a smirk.

“What would you do if I didn’t?” you taunted.

His dark smile made shivers go down your spine as anticipation and lust swirled into your body. Stepping forward, he grabbed your butt with both hands, his fingers digging into your flesh before slapping your ass.

“I’d teach you how to be a good girl,” he rumbled. He slapped the other cheek. “Make sure you learn how to listen.”

“Oh, yes, teach me Arthur,” you purred, wiggling your body. With one hand he pressed you down on the motorbike seat to keep you still as he undid his button fly. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw him standing behind you, pulling out his hard cock and stroking himself as he stepped closer. You could feel him nudging your slit, sliding it back and forth, coating himself in your wetness. 

“Goddamn sweetheart,” he murmured. “All this honey fer me?”

You moaned as he pressed forward, the head of his cock stretching you slowly. Grabbing your hips, he kept on entering you until he filled you to the hilt, letting out a soft, low moan of satisfaction. He leaned over and kissed the shell of your ear.

“Just think, someone might come out here and find you, bent over my bike, getting filled with my cock.”

Your pussy tightened around him as you felt a rush of adrenaline.

“Oh yeah, gettin’ excited by that, ain’tcha?”

“Fuck me Arthur,” you half-growled, trying to move your hips towards him.

He chuckled, his hold on you as strong as steel. “I’m in control here, darlin’.” His hips pulled back and snapped forward, his bike shifting ever so slightly from his movement. He reached for your hair, pulling your head back so your back arched beautifully for his pleasure. Moving slowly at first, he built up a steady rhythm, fucking you with just enough control to prevent toppling his bike with the strength of his thrusts.

“Yer a dirty girl, gettin’ so hot from being fucked in the open,” he crooned. 

You were surprised at how aroused you were from this. The risk of being caught like this shot adrenaline through your body, giving you an incredible high. The thought of someone catching you in such a compromising position while you were getting railed like a whore over the seat of a motorcycle by a real biker outlaw was sexy, like a porn fantasy come to life. Your tits were bouncing and your juices were dripping down your thighs as your cries of pleasure echoed in the forest. His hands wandered, grabbing your neck, gripping your hips and fondling your breasts. And through it all, his cock kept hammering into you, a steady reminder that you were completely at his mercy and you loved it.

Suddenly Arthur brought his hand down against your ass again, making you yelp.

“Fuck, I love it when you squeeze my cock whenever I spank ya.”

You turned towards him. “Now you’re just doing that for fun.”

“Have to keep you in line somehow.”

You grinned and pushed your ass back at him, causing him to stop moving.

“Arthur!” you whined.

“Fuck yerself on me if you want it so bad,” he said with a mocking grin.

You growled but did as he said, undulating your hips, grinding down on his shaft and slowing your pace, letting him feel every inch of your tight channel as you slid forward and back on him. You felt a thrill of victory when he finally grabbed your hips and thrust inside of you, taking control of the speed again.

“Yer drivin’ me crazy,” he grunted as he leaned forward, crushing you against the bike seat. He reached around, rubbing your clit with an expert touch. He had gotten intimately familiar with your body in the past few months and knew exactly how to push you to your peak. Each stroke made your heart race, made your breath come out in labored gasps as he made you feel a blinding pleasure with each stroke of his fingers.

“Come fer me, darlin’,” he murmured into your ear. “I’m goin’ to fill you when you do.”

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as you felt your climax hit you like a gust of wind, taking you higher and higher as you cried out, only to have Arthur wrap a hand around your mouth to stifle your screams. You kept moaning, your sounds muffled as he continued to fuck you, faster and faster, until your body was shaking from being kept on the brink for so long.

Arthur let out a low moan as he came inside of you, filling you as he promised. He let his weight crush you against the leather seat as he caught his breath, for he knew you enjoyed the heaviness of his body every once in a while. 

After a few moments, he stood up, his cum spilling out as he pulled himself out of you. “Darlin’, you alright?”

“I’m good. Better than good. That was so hot.”

He laughed. “Better keep that inside of ya,” he said, pulling a bandana from his jacket and wiping your mixed juices from your inner thigh. “Don’t wanna get my bike dirty,” he said with a wink.

You slapped his arm as you laughed and pulled your clothes back on. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

He could only laugh with you as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you gently. “It’s all I could think of. Forgive me if I ain’t able to think properly right now.”

“I forgive you," you said, tapping his nose playfully.  "Now should we go back? We probably should take a shower.”

“And then round two?” he asked with a hopeful look.

You giggled. “If you’re feeling… up to it.”

“With you? Always.”

The two of you rode back down the Ridgeway, content and happy. You snuggled into his warm back, your arms wrapped around his waist, and blissfully enjoyed the view.

When the two of you returned to your apartment, while he was helping you put away the picnic gear, he chuckled softly.

“What is it?” you asked, curious.

“Was jus’ thinkin’ we should go ridin’ more often, since it gets you all hot and bothered like this.”

You just laughed as you stripped off your clothes to give him round two.

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

End Notes: The fic title is a lyric from I Feel Like A Woman by Shania Twain! The scenery was very much inspired by my visit to Asheville, North Carolina a long time ago. The Blue Mountain Ridgeway was absolutely gorgeous, definitely worth a visit. Hope you enjoyed this hot little story! With this part, this series is over. Thank you for your support!

[atmilliways]

On the 5th day of Dethmas this writer gives to thee…

Dec 17 - Putting up decorations!

Nathan had been thinking—a dangerous pastime, he knew, but it was either that or drink until he literally vomited out all the weird feelings swimming around in his guts, and that was a no-go because he’d already tried that.

Nathan/Charles to go with some stick figure art I drew, like, a decade ago haha.

~

This Is Very Unsafe

Nathan had been thinking—a dangerous pastime, he knew, but it was either that or drink until he literally vomited out all the weird feelings swimming around in his guts, and that was a no-go because he’d already tried that. Charles had given him a disapproving look for needing another liver transplant again so soon. That look, weeks later, still haunted Nathan.

The problem was that Charles was the problem.

Ever since he’d died, Nathan had been drowning in trying to remember how the guy ran everything, hoping to somehow manage Dethklok himself and avoid replacing someone who, it turned out, was really fucking irreplaceable. No one else had any right to sit behind that desk, although Nathan had done it in the hopes of channeling some latent CFO wisdom to try and get his band out of the hole they’d dug themselves into.

Then, poof, Charles had turned out to be not dead after all. But nine months of drowning didn’t just go away; ever since their manager’s return, Nathan had felt as though he’d crawled from a bottomless ocean into a desert and now, ironically, was dying of thirst.

He’d been thinking, and thinking, and then thinking some more. He’d acted out by dating Trindle, to see if Charles would have any sort of reaction, but if he did then that was one hell of a poker face. After the explosion at Klokikon and taking approximately one hundred showers, Nathan had come to the conclusion that what he’d really liked about Trindle (aside from the rockin’ tits) was that she’d wrapped her entire life and identity around him—something hadn’t even begun to occur to until he’d grabbed an offered hand for help up the last couple rungs into the dethkopter, looked up, and realized that the hand he held was Charles’.

Every day, all the time, Charles was there. His life revolved around Dethklok so literally that he’d died and then come back from the dead for them. The only reason Nathan had let go of his hand was because his bandmates were right on his ass trying to climb to safety too, and he had to get out of the way.

The whole thing had caught him by surprise. For one thing, Charles did not have rockin’ tits.

After much reflection, he’d come to the conclusion that maybe that wasn’t such a dealbreaker. He was starting to get that feeling around the guy, like back in high school when he’d had a crush on the head cheerleader and whenever he tried to talk to her he either went non-verbal or everything came out sounding angry and sullen.

So . . . he had a crush on his manager. Great.

And it was driving him fucking nuts. Did Charles even like guys? If he didn’t, would he make an exception for Nathan Explosion? If he did, was Nathan Explosion even his type? Nathan liked to think that he was everyone’s type, being famous and all . . . but that wasn’t likely to impress a man who’d held his hair back while he puked blood onto yet another operating room floor after lying about when he’d last eaten again.

But Christmas was coming up, and the holiday season was all about having a good time with the people you didn’t hate being around and making . . . fond memories and cookies and shit. As tongue-tied and stupid as Nathan always felt around Charles now, surely the holiday could offer something to talk to him about. Even if it was just about—

“Christmas decorations,” Charles repeated. His right eyebrow eased upwards a fraction of an inch.

“Yeah,” Nathan growled in confirmation, standing firmly in the manager’s office. “All over the Haus.”

“What kind—”

“All of them. All kinds.”

“. . . Okay. All kinds of decorations.” Charles made a note on the legal pad on his desk. “Live greenery or artificial?”

Nathan barely avoided saying ‘Huh? ’ out loud, because he hadn’t actually anticipated any questions. He scowled hard as he thought faster than he’d ever thought before in his life. “Uhhh . . . live.”

“Alright, I’ll have a team of Klokateers—”

“No I’ll do it. I’ll tell them what to get, I know what Christmas looks like,” Nathan snapped, and wondered why he kept interrupting. Fuck. Charles was probably getting real annoyed somewhere behind that poker face.

Charles paused, then put his pen down. “I, ah, didn’t mean to imply that you don’t.”

“Well . . . good.” Nathan crossed his arms and shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling like he should say more in order to not sound like such a jackass. “Uh, I’ll take care of the live stuff. You can do the rest, if you want.”

“Hm.” With an unreadable expression, Charles picked the pen back up. “I’m assuming you’d like the same as previous years, then? Everything in red, black, and silver?”

Nathan nodded. “And lots of candles this time,” he added, because candles were romantic and shit. Made for good mood lighting and creepy shadows.

“Lots of candles. Right.” Charles wrote that down too. His eyes flicked up to Nathan again. “Anything else?”

That’s when Nathan’s voice decided to desert him again, and he shook his head. He left shortly after, tugging his dethphone out of his pocket and searching ‘live Christmas decorations’ since he’d just fucking given himself that job. The conversation hadn’t even been worth it, all he’d done was snap at Charles again. Scowling, he thumbed through the search results and found pretty much what he’d expected.

Evergreens, ugh. Sure.

Pinecones, painful with thrown. Acceptable.

Logs. At least those could get set on fire.

Cinnamon sticks? No, Pickles would get drunk, try to eat them, and then whine about cinnamon buns.

Holly, fuck no. Not since that year Murderface had tried to make “homemade cranberry sauce.”

. . . Mistletoe.

A slow grin spread across Nathan’s broad face. Mistletoe. He could work with that.

~

By the start of the week before Christmas, everything was in place. Mordhaus was practically dripping with evergreen garlands and there was a dedicated contingent of Klokateers in charge of going around and making sure all the candles were either relit or replaced the moment they burned out, round the clock. In the pre-noon hours before the rest of the band was awake, at Nathan’s signal, the mistletoe was hoisted over the living room hot tub with care.

This took several Klokateers to accomplish, as Nathan had decided that mistletoe, a parasite, would be much more badass if hung up while still attached to its uprooted host tree. He settled into the hot tub beneath it with a mug of spiked eggnog and waited. Charles always showed up whenever any member of Dethklok did something stupid; all he had to do was wait.

Charles entered the room about fifteen minutes later, which Nathan found kind of flattering. He walked in eyeing the suspended tree warily, as though it might fall at any moment, and only glanced down at the front man when he’d reached just a bit closer than minimum safe distance. “Good morning, Nathan. May I, ah, ask what you’re doing?”

Nathan shrugged, stretching both arms out to rest casually along the edge of the hot tub. “Hanging out.” His stomach was doing spins and somersaults, but he was determined to play it cool.

Charles’ mouth compressed into a thin line—not that Nathan was staring or anything. “Under a tree? Nathan, please. I know you wanted to have some creative control in the decorations this year, but this is very unsafe.”

“Nope.”

“. . . Excuse me?”

“I’m hanging out,” Nathan explained, “under a tree with mistletoe in it.” He waited a beat. “I’m under the mistletoe.”

At that predetermined signal, a listening Klokateer dimmed the living room lights down to a faint glow, accentuated by flickering candlelight that lit the edges of the cavernous room like low-hanging stars. There were no lower windows, but the upper ones were shuttered to add to the sense of ethereal gloom.

“Ah. . . .” Charles looked around, trying to determine why the light levels were changing, but the Klokateer had already ducked out per Nathan’s instructions. “What’s going on?”

Okay, here it was. Moment of truth. And hey, if it went badly he could always say,  Wasn’t me, it was the mistletoe and retreat to his room to get over this crush which would surely be smashed to pieces by robot-like rejection.

Nathan rose from the hot tub, knowing that the candlelight made his wet skin shine like one of those jacked dudes on the cover of romance novels. He automatically sucked his stomach in a little. “I’m under the mistletoe,” he said again, and his face felt warm but hopefully in the dimness it was hard to tell. “So, uh. That means you have to kiss me.”

“Kiss. . . ?” Charles started. He trailed off as Nathan took the first step away from the hot tub, black swim trunks dripping softly on the stone floor.

It was only one more step to reach the man, and Nathan took it. Took him by the shoulders, getting chlorinated water all over Charles’ expensive suit, and pulled him close, all but yanking him into a very self-conscious kiss in which Nathan was totally overthinking what to do with his crappy thin lips, eyes closed in concentration.

His eyes flew open when he felt Charles grab onto his arms and, instead of pushing him away, held on with completely unexpected strength. It was Charles who took control and deepened the kiss, maneuvering expertly until Nathan’s eyes drifted closed again, forgetting to be self-conscious and just . . . kissing back.

Fuck. Who knew that Charles would be such a good kisser? Totally worth it.

“Wow,” Nathan breathed when the kiss ended, their mouths still hovering mere millimeters apart.

Charles cleared his throat, not moving away either. “I second that. This was, ah, not what I was expecting when I came in here, but, well.” His gaze shifted pointedly towards Nathan’s kiss-bruised lips. “I suppose this sheds a new light on why you were so interested in decorating this Christmas.”

Above them, the hanging tree creaked. They glanced up at it in unison.

“Would you, ah, like to continue this discussion in my office?”

“. . . Yeah,” Nathan said with a slow grin. “Yeah, let’s do that.” He followed Charles, grabbing a towel along the way to dry off with.

Fuck yeah, mistletoe. Worked like a charm.

[katybirdy95]

The Spanish Princess (Season 2, Ep 1): My Thoughts.

Hello Everyone!

I guess it’s that time of year were we all collectively come together to roast another PG production. I know that a few others have already written their thoughts, but I have stayed away from them for the moment, until I have written my own opinions just so my perspective of the episode is more original.

I will try and write some things I liked and obviously things I did not and would love to hear everyone else’s opinions as well.

Warning: SPOILERS

Right! Here we go!

1) We start the episode off in 1511 - three years after the final of season 1. I guess they didn’t want to show Henry and Katherine’s wedding night (I can’t quite remember if it was shown in season 1), so we don’t see Henry’s reaction to Katherine not being a virgin. Although, it seems to me that throughout the episode, it’s hinted that Henry already knows that Katherine consummated her marriage to Arthur, but out of love for her, he’s keeping his mouth shut.

2) I think Mary Tudor is the first character in this universe that actually resembles her younger self. I feel like EF just casts any child actress and then the adult version looks vastly different.

3) I like that they have shown Mary to be an intelligent woman with a good knowledge for languages.

4) The costumes have been upgraded and some are actually really pretty, but they are a few decades too early - more Elizabethan and Katherine is sporting some Lucrezia Borgia inspired hair.

5) When Ursula Pole states that Charles V has very expensive clothes, I nearly laughed. His clothes are very plain in comparison to what Mary Tudor or some of the background extras are wearing.

6) I do like that the women in this season seem a lot more friendlier with each other, instead of seeing each other as enemies and trying to rip each other apart - I hope this continues.

7) King James has entered the building and poor Margaret looks like she’s about to jump out a window. Ray Stevenson’s accent is actually quite good and I don’t think I cringed once and being Glaswegian that’s good coming from me, but why did they make him so old. Although, I will say that the term “hen” is more what a father would say to his daughter, but given the age difference, I suppose it makes sense.

8) They are really trying to ham up that Scotland is full of uncouth barbarians, almost like the producers don’t know that Scotland is filled with varies accents, we don’t all have that gruff harshness to our voices and every city has its own accent.

9) Why would you bring a newborn to a jousting tournament, the noise alone would distress the poor thing and why is the baby the size of a six month old?

10) Oh God! Edward Stafford just tore his eyeball off, I don’t believe the real Buckingham lost an eye, I know that Sir Francis Bryan lost an eye, but not Buckingham, but I might be wrong.

11) I wish I was as calm as Buckingham when I burnt the skin of my left hand (don’t worry It healed), I mean this guy pulls his eyeball out and still has time to flirt with Katherine.

12) I guess the producers are of the opinion that eye patches are the fashion in Tudor England, although I would have been partial to a glass eye or a jeweled one.

13) Well, I guess my redheads are gone. Henry and Margaret are sporting their actors natural hair colours and Katherine’s seems to be a lot darker this season too. Why go to the trouble of dyeing their hair in the first season if they weren’t going to bother their arses for the second season and that’s directed towards the hair department and whoever made the decision to make Henry a brunette than the actors themselves.

14) Looks like not only was Isabella of Castile abusive towards Joanna, but Ferdinand of Aragon was abusive to Catherine. Can’t we just have loving, supportive parents like Jacquetta from TWQ.

15) The abuse is just lazy story telling because it has just now occurred, yet in season one, Catherine was shocked that Joanna had been abused, surely she would have been more sympathetic to Joanna given their shared experience, but they probably didn’t know they were getting a second season to develop that.

16) Katherine is breastfeeding her own baby, but I don’t know if there is a source that said she actually did this. I have heard that Anne Boleyn thought to feed Elizabeth and was told not to and after that decided it was for the best so that she could produce a new baby quicker. I wonder if we will see Elizabeth in this and see the contrast between Katherine and Anne as mothers and given how awkward the cast has been about Anne Boleyn, I’m guessing she won’t be shown in a good light, but who knows.

17) I do like that they are showing Thomas Boleyn as an adviser and friend to the king, usually Thomas only appears when Anne Boleyn is about to be introduced, but in reality Thomas was actually good friends with Henry and Henry trusted Thomas a great deal before Anne came onto the scene.

18) I actually liked the Scots scene when they are slagging off the English, it’s pretty accurate to how even Scots today feel haha. Although, I don’t like that they have reduced Margaret to a governess, but Georgie seems to have some chemistry with Ray Stevenson, but I doubt Margaret would have slapped James IV in front of his courtiers. 

19) Why do productions always use the tool of having one part of the couple refuse to have sex with the other to show that they’re struggling, like most couples don’t have sex every night and it’s a sign of a healthy relationship that if one person wants sex and the other doesn’t - for numerous reasons - then the one that doesn’t, shouldn’t have to feel guilty for saying “not tonight love”.

20) I did think that Bessie Blount was going to appear from the shadows when Katherine left the room though.

21) Why would you put a newborn on a cold, dirty chapel floor. I mean what do you expect to happen.

Okay, I will say that I actually enjoyed this episode for what it was there was some good things and some not so good, but still it has potential. There seems to be more extras as well, instead of like eight to a room like the last productions have been and I liked that the actors had more than one costume change. Also, the couples are all in matching outfits, will we see the same happen for Henry and Anne when she comes on the scene.

The strongest actors in this episode would have to be Stephanie Levi John, Ray Stevenson (mainly for the accent) and Sai Bennett. I think that’s it, the other actors were good like Ruairi and Georgie, but didn’t stand out as much to me yet.

Sorry it’s not as funny, I was uninspired.

[ragingbookdragon]

When The Music’s Not Forgotten

A Haytham Kenway x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1,691 Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author’s Note: *Insert John Mulaney’s ‘No that’s the thing I’m sensitive about!’* I’m sensitive about how sad Haytham is so I made it better. Enjoy! -Thorne

She watched from afar as the two men argued, one with his hands clasped tightly behind his back, the other gesturing wildly with them. It was almost downright hysterical how similar they were, though they’d never agree with her. But from where she stood, the similarities were plain to see. They might have different ways of showing it, but that Kenway Temper ran deep, and she sighed as she started making her way over, knowing it was about to explode into something serious.

           “You do not care about the people! They fight to make their lives better! To be free and you stand above them and scoff as if it is all in vain!” Haytham huffed at his words, countering,

           “It seems a lot of good they’re doing themselves, Connor. Most of them are getting killed. A ragtag band of townsfolk can’t possibly hope to defeat a trained army.” His son’s face pinched in anger and before he could do anything, she stepped between them, placing her hands to their chests as she split them apart.

           “Alright, that’s enough. You two keep at it and trouble will find us.” Connor shoved her hand aside, taking a step forward.

           “No! It is not enough!” She turned, a firm look in her eye.

           “Look, I get that you’re upset, and I understand, but taking it out on Haytham isn’t going to change the past.” He pointed his finger in her face, hissing,

           “You know nothing of what upsets me (Y/N).” She cocked an eyebrow, eyes following from his finger to his honeyed ones.

           “First off, I’m your senior, and you will address me with the proper respect. Secondly, how much do you wanna bet on that statement?” He pulled his hand away, getting in her face.

           “I would bet my life upon it.” (Y/N) nodded, then remarked,

           “I know for a fact that Ziio’s death is what drives you so strongly to defeat the templars and Charles Lee.” Connor recoiled slightly, but she kept speaking. “I know that you blame your father and believe it was his order to burn Kanatahséton.” She watched his face fall in a mixture of hate and pain as he muttered,

           “Lee works for him. How could it not be?” (Y/N) tipped her chin up, recalling,

           “Because I know for a fact that it wasn’t. Haytham wasn’t even in the colonies when your village was burned.” She could hear Haytham intake a sharp breath, but she took a step forward. “We were overseas when Kanatahséton fell. Whoever burned your village did not do so on Haytham’s orders, Ratonhnhaké:ton.” The young man said nothing, and for a moment, the world around them felt so dark and heavy. Letting out a sigh, (Y/N) placed a hand on his bicep, urging him to look at her; he met them and she murmured, “Go home for the day, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Nothing can be done about the mission this late.” It took him a moment to move his feet, then he whispered,

           “I will be at the docks tomorrow.” She watched him walk off before turning to Haytham, mocking,

           “Well done genius. Any more ways you want to make your son hate you?” He scoffed, turning on his heel as he headed in the direction of the inn.

           “It’s not my fault he’s naïve.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes walking beside him, not bothering to look at the people who moved out of their way as they strode past.

           “Of course, it isn’t. But you treating him like a child and not a grown man isn’t going to make the situation better. He’s your son, Haytham. Start acting like his parent.” She watched from the side as he pulled a mirthless grin.

           “Any capability of nurturing and loving I could feel has been burned away, (Y/N). You know that.” Her face scrunched up at his words and she asked,

           “So what? You’re incapable of loving you own child?” He hummed, musing,

           “So it would seem.” She stopped dead in her tracks, condemning,

           “You heartless bastard.” Haytham’s steps halted and he turned, looking back at her with a carefully hidden, but hurt expression.

           “What?” (Y/N) took a step towards him, reiterating,

           “I said, you’re a heartless bastard, Haytham Kenway.” Before he could speak, she accused, “How dare you stand before me and tell me you can’t love your own child? How dare you claim to have loved her when all you have left of her besides your memories is standing in front of you and you can’t even make an effort to care for him?” Each word felt like it was cutting at his very soul and all he could return was,

           “I did care for her.” (Y/N) could tell he wanted to yell, but he was desperately trying to reign his emotions in; she let out a huff of disbelief, spitting.

           “Well you have a damn good way of showing it Haytham.” She gave him a pointed look before pushing past him, but his hand shot out, wrapping around her forearm to bring her back.

           “No, we are not finished with this.” He gestured to her. “Why are you so concerned about it?” (Y/N) thought her head was going to explode and she hissed,

           “Because I’m watching the last good thing you’ll ever be given in this sad life you’ve lived and you’re turning it away over some stupid set of ideals!” At that, Haytham’s temper snapped and he shouted,

           “Those ideals are our ideals (Y/N)!” She put her hand to her chest, admitting,

           “I am not a templar Haytham! I am not devoted to the order like you are!” His brows furrowed as he asked,

           “What?” (Y/N) shook her head, expressing,

           “Haytham, I’ve never been devoted to the templars.” She took a step towards him, curling her hands in his jacket lapels. She tugged on them hoping to emphasize the emotion she felt. “I’m devoted to you.” Steel eyes went wide and (Y/N) felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, making her lighter than she had in decades. “I have stood beside you for almost thirty years because I believed you could change the templars for the better. And I still do. But-” She felt her grip go weak and suddenly she felt as mature as her body was telling her she was. “But I cannot in good faith say that what you’re doing is the right thing Haytham. That is your child. The son of the woman you loved all these years. And you’re pushing him away because you think any parental feelings you could’ve had are gone.” (Y/N) looked at him and she cursed how she loved the man. Tears welled in her vision and she whispered harshly, “I pity you. I pity that you have locked your heart away so tightly that you can’t find it anymore. I pity that-” Before she could help it, a sob escaped her and she raised her hands to her face, trying to hide it from him. Warm hands pulled her to an equally warm chest, and she buried her face in his chest as she cried.

           “(Y/N),” he breathed, shock running through him at her admissions. She clung to him as if she’d fall into the earth if she didn’t. A painful feeling began tugging at his heart and he looked down, coaxing, “(Y/N), look at me.” She shook her head and he sighed. “(Y/N), please?” Finally, she tilted her head up and he took in the sight of her red-rimmed eyes and tearstained cheeks. Only one question seemed to swim above the rest of them and he inquired softly, “Why have you stayed all the years?” Her lips wobbled, but there was no turning back now, she’d already pulled the final support from the dam. She stared into his eyes and brought a hand up, pressing it to his cheek. She let her thumb caress his skin and confessed,

           “Because I love you Haytham…and I want you to do what’s best for you.” (Y/N) inhaled deeply, trying to push the lump in her throat away as she shook her head. “I don’t want you to make your decision based on the order and your responsibilities to it. I want you to look at what you’ve got left and ask yourself if it’s really what you want from life.” She pulled her hand away and dropped her gaze, beginning to untangle herself from his arms. He held tight and she pleaded, “Please don’t do this Haytham…let me go.”

           “No.” (Y/N) looked back at him and he said, “Why haven’t you said anything all these years?” She wanted to laugh but all she could manage was a pathetic huff.

           “Haytham, you’ve never looked at any woman like you did Ziio, and you sure as hell have never been as happy as when you were with her.” (Y/N) swallowed thickly, whispering, “I’ve had thirty years to understand my feelings for you. You don’t need to worry about the admittance. It won’t change anything.” She tried to move again, but he reached up, cupping her cheeks, murmuring,

           “It changes everything.” She met his eyes and he professed, “I love you (Y/N) (L/N).” Though a bolt of disbelieving happiness shot through her, she shook her head, begging,

           “Don’t do that Haytham. Don’t lie to me to make me feel better about this.” His grip tightened ever so slightly, and he calmly stated,

           “Look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m lying to you.” (Y/N) raised her eyes and searched his, hoping that somewhere there was a lie. But for the first time in a long time, his steel eyes shone with a clearness that she hadn’t seen in years. “Am I lying to you?” She shook her head, murmuring,

           “No…I know you well enough to know that.” She blinked slowly, questioning, “Where do we go from here, Haytham?” He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers, hands lowering a bit to cup her jaw. His fingers brushed the back of her neck and he whispered,

           “We go home.” (Y/N) shut her eyes and he added, “We’ve wasted enough time (Y/N)…let’s not waste anymore.”

[gluku-pikron]

i’m going to take advantage of the “if you want to do this just say i tagged you” loophole for once and just do this because i like to ramble

i cannot draw a fun and fresh self-portrait because my art skills started and stopped at age 14 when i drew exclusively sparkledogs but please imagine a round faced little gremlin with a widows peak and you won’t be far off from what i look like

Questions to get to know you a little better:

1. What do you prefer to be called name wise? just call me “gluku” or “g” or something.  as i am “transing” my “gender” i am still trying to work out the whole name thing.

2. When is your birthday? feb 15

3. Where do you live? up in the cool, damp forests of the pacific northwest.

4. Three things I am doing right now? putting the finishing touches on this fic, watching my dog watching squirrels out the window, rubbing lotion on my hands in a vain attempt to combat my dry, desiccated skin

5. Four fandoms that have piqued my interest: metalocalypse, hades (even though i haven’t gotten anywhere near even the halfway point), red dead redemption 2, and “the non-existent fandom of ‘finished a book that i really loved and headed to ao3 to see if anyone wrote fic for it but found none’”

6. How has the pandemic been treating you? instead of going out to visit friends i now lock myself in my room with an ereader and try to maintain my already-limited social skills by vicariously experiencing them through fictional characters.

7. Song(s) I can’t stop listening to: LOONA’s Voice which is a pretty sweet, floaty bit of 80s-inspired pop but with a stand-out earworm of an instrumental bridge.

8. Recommend a movie: the last movies that i watched and really enjoyed were There Will Be Blood and And Then We Danced.

9. How old are you? 30. i didn’t used to think that was such a big deal, but everything everyone’s ever told me about your body starting to fall apart at 30 is coming true.

10. School, university, or occupation? i quit my job as an inventory manager right before we moved because i couldn’t very well do my tasks from a thousand miles away, so... unemployed for now.  looking into becoming a legal transcriptionist which could be very fun and sexy if it pans out and the pay is okay.

11. Do you prefer heat or cold? COLD. if i had my way i’d live somewhere  where summer didn’t exist

12. Name one fact others may not know about you? i played violin & viola for over a decade but have fallen dreadfully out of practice. i’d like to pick up one or both again sometime, but i have a hideous and worsening tremor in my left hand that makes me worry that regaining competency at either instrument would be a futile task.

13. Are you shy? i talk a lot to cover up the fact that i am dreadfully shy and insecure. as soon as i say something i am probably second-guessing it, even if it’s something as benign as “hello” (maybe they didn’t want you to say hi to them, maybe they’re busy and you’re interrupting, maybe your voice sounded weird and now they think you’re weird) it’s a miracle i managed to talk to m agaricales long enough to convince them to marry me

14. Preferred pronouns.  they/them please

15. Biggest pet peeves: people who push up against other people’s comfort zones.  if i tell someone ‘no’ or ‘that makes me uncomfortable’ and they persist they are immediately on my personal shit list forever.  i have firm personal boundaries and i only relax them for people i like lol

16. What is your favorite “dere” type? when pickles sees charles and says “hey dere chief.” (you’re not sucking me back into anime hell i crawled out of that pit years ago)

17. Rate your life 1-10? unquantifiable but really quite lovely since i met m agaricales.

18. What is your main blog? this one

19. List all your side blogs and what they’re for: i just have @glukupikron without the dash which is my aesthetics/quotes/gotta feel sad blog

20. Is there anything people should know before becoming friends with you? i ramble a lot when given free-range to write long-ish paragraphs but when it comes to one-on-one conversation i am much more of a listener than a talker.  i communicate better through text than speaking.  i assume there’s some funky brain disconnect going on there, but i could never be as eloquent in real life as i try to be on here (”try” being the operative term, of course). i will probably send you lots of pictures of my dog.

[aion-rsa]

Best Thanksgiving Movies to Watch This Holiday Season

https://ift.tt/392gRNP

This year marks a unique Thanksgiving, to be sure. With the pandemic carrying on, families and loved ones across the United States are testing out new ways to celebrate a national holiday that might be best described as food, football, and then, of course, more food. For some that means outdoor gatherings are the order of the day; for others it will mean the first time you might be cutting turkey while wearing a mask.

However you might wish to celebrate the holiday though, gathering with loved ones around a movie never goes out of style. For that reason, we’ve gathered the best Thanksgiving movies to choose from. Some of these films are truly beloved holiday classics, and others might be less obviously about Thanksgiving, even as they wear their affection for the holiday on their sleeves. And yet others still will offer the rare respite: a streak of cynicism for those who think Thanksgiving is for the birds. So pass the potatoes and enjoy a helping of good cinematic cheer below.

Addams Family Values (1991)

Addams Family Values might seem an unusual choice, but then everything about this one is unusual, right down to it being the rare comedy sequel that is superior to its predecessor. That success is in no small part due to the filmmakers realizing Christina Ricci, who made her big break playing the morbid Wednesday Addams, was devastating in her deadpan delivery.

Read more

Movies

How 1991’s The Addams Family Nearly Got Derailed

By Simon Brew

Movies

The Addams Family and Their Spooky New Jersey Origins

By Aaron Sagers

Thus Wednesday gets half the film to herself in this one, and we’re thankful for it. With Addams Family Values, she’s forced to endure the dreariness of summer camp and its middle class morality, right down to them holding a Thanksgiving pageant in July. Surrounded by smiling rich white kids who cast Wednesday as Pocahontas (who, it should be said, was not in New England or at the first Thanksgiving), Wednesday takes the opportunity to keep it real about Thanksgiving.

“My people will have pain and degradation,” Wednesday hisses in her last minute rewrite. “Your people will have stick shifts. The gods of my tribe have spoken. They say do not trust the Pilgrims, especially Sarah Miller. And for all these reasons I’ve decided to scalp you.”

The chaos that ensues is delightful. Happy Thanksgiving, folks!

Alice’s Restaurant

Alice’s Restaurant is an inadvertent Thanksgiving comedy directed by Arthur Penn, who re-envisioned Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow as counterculture antiheroes in his 1967 gangster classic, Bonnie and Clyde. Penn did the same with Arlo Guthrie, the son of folk hero Woody Guthrie, the committed anti-fascist who wrote “This Land is Our Land.” The film is based on Arlo Guthrie’s 1967 folk song “Alice’s Restaurant Massacree,” which was about Alice and a restaurant. The restaurant wasn’t called “Alice’s Restaurant.”

That’s just the name of the song, which is very talky, like the movie, which is also pretty violent and fairly drug-fueled. The film doesn’t start on Thanksgiving, but at an army recruitment center, where Arlo, playing himself, is trying to avoid the draft. Turns out he’s got no good reason to stay out of the war.

The Thanksgiving setting, however, gives the film its purpose, and main reason to be thankful. The main plot involves getting rid of some trash after a holiday dinner. Arlo and his friends load a couple months’ worth of garbage into their red VW microbus, along with “shovels, and rakes, and other implements of destruction,” and head to the city dump, which is closed for Thanksgiving. They’d never heard of a dump closed on Thanksgiving before, so with tears their eyes, they drive off to find another place to put the garbage.

It takes Arlo 18 minutes and 21 seconds to tell the plot in the song, in intermittent three-part harmony, but the gist is: he gets arrested for littering, and his criminal record keeps him out of the draft. With it, Penn turns Guthrie into one of the most mild-mannered antiheroes in counterculture cinema. He’s not moral enough to join the army, burn women, kids, houses, and villages because he’s a litterbug.

A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving

Perhaps not quite as iconic as the legendary A Charlie Brown Christmas or It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, the third Peanuts holiday special (and 10th Peanuts animated special overall) is still just as charming, wholesome, and satisfying as its predecessors. Once again written by Peanuts creator Charles M. Schulz and directed by Bill Melendez, the show has been a November staple on TV for decades since first airing in 1973.

This time out, Charlie Brown (voiced by Todd Barbee) and his sister Sally (Hilary Momberger) are getting ready to go to their grandmother’s house for Thanksgiving when one by one, all their friends invite themselves over to his house—despite the fact that Charlie Brown can only make “cold cereal and maybe toast.” It all gets sorted out in the end, and it’s all the little jokes, the delightful voices, and the unforgettable music by Vince Guaraldi that makes this a perennial favorite.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox

There isn’t so much as a mention of Thanksgiving in Wes Anderson’s stop motion masterpiece. Yet, somehow, it’s impossible to watch The Fantastic Mr. Fox and not have late autumn brought to mind. Is it the carefully chosen fall color palette that’s all sunsets and foliage? Is it the warm familial vibe of the Foxes and their neighbors that makes you miss big get-togethers? Is it the impeccably dressed cast of animal characters, all resplendent in corduroy, flannel, and tweed, quietly shaming you with their perfect sartorial choices? Or perhaps it’s simply their ravenous eating habits that puts you in the right frame of mind. 

With little resemblance to the Roald Dahl book it’s based on, The Fantastic Mr. Fox is instead one of the most perfect encapsulations of Anderson’s eye for (some might say obsession with) the little details. And it’s those little details, even more than its fuzzy animal characters, that make this perhaps the coziest of the director’s efforts. Alternately exuberant and melancholy (just like the holiday itself), and with numerous scenes of beautifully plated gluttonous excess, it’s remarkable that this movie hasn’t already been adopted as an unofficial icon of the season. Let’s start that campaign right here, shall we? 

Hannah and Her Sisters

The movie that won Michael Caine and Dianne Wiest Oscars, Hannah and Her Sisters is a story about family framed between two Thanksgivings and the year that connects them. With a meticulous insight about the highs and anxieties of upper-middle class life among Manhattan intellectuals, the film is really the travails of Hannah (Mia Farrow) and her sisters Holly (Dianne Wiest) and Lee (Barbara Hershey). There’s also the lust of Hannah’s husband Elliot (Caine), who pursues an affair with Lee, but the film is mostly told from the vantage of three women of varying ages struggling with how they see themselves and their lives in a year of New York living.

Writer-director Woody Allen is here too as a hanger-on in this family, who’s struggling with his own fears of death, but his and Elliot’s roles are ultimately as outside observers who arrive every Thanksgiving to watch the sisters and their parents renew their family ties… and close ranks.

Home for the Holidays

One that feels particularly timely as 2020 adults hole up in their childhood homes for Thanksgiving and beyond, director Jodie Foster’s underrated family gathering comedy wallows in the downsides of going home. The film stars Holly Hunter as a woman who’s lost her job and is growing apart from her teenage daughter (Claire Danes). But all of that pales in comparison to spending Thanksgiving with her parents (Anne Bancroft and Charles Durning), plus younger brother Robert Downey Jr.

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TV

The Best Thanksgiving TV Episodes

By Alec Bojalad

Movies

The Long History of Mystery Science Theater 3000 and Thanksgiving

By Gavin Jasper

It’s a familiar setup, but Thanksgiving is a time of being with those you’re familiar with, whether you like it or not. Plus, as a comedy it also has the still vital message of counting your blessings.

The Ice Storm

Based on Rick Moody’s acclaimed 1994 novel, director Ang Lee’s (Brokeback Mountain) masterful adaptation is a scathing portrait of upper middle class suburban life in the early 1970s, when all the experimentation in the world with drugs, alcohol, and sex couldn’t quite stop anyone from feeling like their lives and society were unmoored.

Like other dramas that take place around Thanksgiving, there’s very little to actually be thankful for: the characters (played with flair by Sigourney Weaver, Kevin Kline, Joan Allen, Tobey Maguire, and others) are all trapped in emotional black holes of their own making.

Similarly, all the decadence and crazy fashions/trends of that surreal decade can’t replace the feeling that something has gone dreadfully wrong. Lee–before he became obsessed with the latest camera technology–charts this all with patience, empathy, and precision.

Knives Out

Okay, so Rian Johnson’s brilliant little whodunit isn’t actually set on Thanksgiving, but it sure feels like it is and was released around the holiday on Nov. 27, 2019 (God, that feels like a century ago). So… close enough. And while the family gathering at the center of the story is for a patriarch’s birthday, it certainly resembles the kind of large family assembly many hold at Thanksgiving, right down to feeling like it could end in murder.

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Movies

Knives Out and the Villainy of Privilege

By Kayti Burt

Movies

Knives Out: When Murder Makes You a Better Person

By Natalie Zutter

The murder in question, of course, is that of mystery novelist Harlan Thrombey (Christopher Plummer), and it’s up to gentleman detective Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) to figure out which of his many bickering, backbiting, scheming descendants might have had a hand in it. Perhaps Harlan’s nurse Marta (Ana de Armas) can help since the clan insists “she’s like part of the family.”

All that’s really missing is the turkey. The knives are out, in abundance.

The Last Waltz

Perhaps no title card in cinematic history deserves to be heeded more than the one which opens The Last Waltz: “This film should be played loud.”

Not just the greatest concert film ever made. Not only the greatest rock documentary of all time. The Last Waltz may lay claim to being the only movie of any stature literally filmed on Thanksgiving. Martin Scorsese shot The Band’s farewell concert on Thanksgiving Day, 1976, where the audience of 5,000 was served a literal Thanksgiving dinner in addition to an unforgettable night of music by some of the most legendary performers of the 20th century.

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Culture

The Last Waltz: Martin Scorsese’s Ultimate Rock n’ Roll Movie

By Tony Sokol

Culture

New Deep Purple Album Whoosh! Coming in June

By Tony Sokol

But this is no mere concert film. Being treated to a document of such legendary musicians at the height of their powers would make this important enough, but when it’s shot, lit, and edited by Scorsese, and with The Band joined by towering guest stars like Muddy Waters, Eric Clapton, Neil Young, Bob Dylan, and many more, The Last Waltz becomes one of the most powerful musical statements ever committed to film. Scorsese breaks up the performances with members of The Band reflecting on their career, and even in these quieter moments, The Last Waltz radiates the power and danger of a life lived on the road, in seedy dives, and storied ballrooms.

When you’ve had your fill of football and family for the night, pour yourself a glass of something good and do exactly as that opening title card says.

Miracle on 34th Street

Yes, yes, technically speaking Miracle on 34th Street is a Christmas movie. But it is definitely worth noting that the film actually spends more screen time on the actual Thanksgiving holiday than Christmas Day. Indeed, the picture opens with the now legendary Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. In the ultimate stroke of product placement, Macy’s New York City shindig got nationwide attention on the big screen, even as the movie focuses on the department store hiring the wrong Santa Claus for its festivities.

Arriving drunk and disgraceful to Macy’s preparations, an inebriated mall Santa creates an opportunity for a man who calls himself Kris Kringle (Edmund Gwenn) to step in. Kris is passing through, presumably doing some holiday shopping ahead of his own big day in December. But upon seeing his personage so besmirched, he demands to take Santa’s reins and in the process saves Thanksgiving. We also see how this affects the turkey time of the film’s central mother and daughter team, played by Maureen O’Hara and Natalie Wood.

Mistress America

Sometimes Thanksgiving can be quiet and intimate… and desperately needed. That’s the case of the end to Noah Baumbach’s effervescent Mistress America. A mostly successful attempt at emulating 1930s screwball comedy for literary millennials, Mistress America is a clever throwback set during autumn in New York City and, tellingly, a trip to the suburbs of Connecticut. But by movie’s end, protagonists Tracy (Lola Kirke) and Brooke (Greta Gerwig) find themselves alone and isolated in the big city on Thanksgiving. They also thus discover an excuse to reconcile after grievances drove them apart, breaking bread at a restaurant down the street. It’s downbeat, but emotionally cathartic for both the characters and film.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

As the late John Hughes’ masterpiece, Planes, Trains and Automobiles is the quintessential “get home in time for the holiday” tale. Steve Martin is Neal, a stressed-out marketing exec who picks up an accidental travel companion in Del (John Candy), a well-meaning but oafish shower curtain ring salesman. As the two struggle to get back to Chicago in time for Thanksgiving amidst a string of misadventures and transportation issues, an eventual friendship forms, leading to a moving conclusion.

Planes was a step forward for Hughes as he began to move away from teen comedies, and the movie’s balance of humor and heart was perfectly complemented by the dynamic comedic chemistry of Martin and Candy. The latter probably had his best role ever in Del Griffith, and it’s a tribute to both actors and Hughes that each lead character can be annoying yet is never unlikable.

Read more

Movies

Christmas Movies on Disney+ Streaming Guide

By David Crow

Movies

Christmas Movies: A Complete Holiday Streaming Guide

By Alec Bojalad

Hilarious and poignant, this mix of buddy picture and road movie is a near-perfect treat for the season—or any time.

Prisoners

We wouldn’t exactly call Prisoners ideal holiday viewing. It’s set at Thanksgiving and immediately afterwards, although there isn’t much cheer during most of the film’s harrowing 153 minutes. The movie opens with a Thanksgiving dinner involving two Pennsylvania families, a pleasant ritual that soon turns nightmarish when two little girls—one from each clan—go missing. From that point onward, the story becomes a downward psychological spiral in which the search for the girls takes a terrible toll on all caught in its wake.

The first Hollywood studio film directed by French-Canadian filmmaker Denis Villeneuve (who has since gifted us with films like Sicario, Arrival, Blade Runner 2049, and next year’s Dune), Prisoners is a brutal, emotionally complex thriller that maintains a high level of suspense and dread over its formidable running time.

Featuring excellent performances from Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Terrence Howard, and others, it may not be the kind of cheery escapism we often seek out at the holidays. But it will leave you deeply thankful for the good things in your own life.

Rocky and Rocky II

“To you it’s Thanksgiving, to me it’s Thursday,” Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) tells Adrian Pennino (Talia Shire) as they hit the streets for their first date in Rocky. That date wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for the tougher than tough love of Adrian’s brother Paulie (Burt Young). He gave them no alternative but to go out when he tossed the Thanksgiving turkey his sister slaved over all day out the side door. What followed was one of the best first date scenes in film.

It doesn’t seem like Rocky and Adrian have a lot to be thankful for. She says her daddy told her to develop her brains because she’d never get by on her looks. Rocky says he’s so dumb he couldn’t hope to be anything else but a fighter, which is halfway to being a bum.

While the scenes surrounding the ice skating rink date aren’t only some of the most romantic sequences captured on celluloid, they culminate in one of hottest. This is all before Rocky is even approached to fight the heavyweight champ of the world. The battered underdog Rocky stays on his feet until the final bell, and an almost equally bashed Apollo Creed, who barely held onto his title belt, swears he never wants a rematch.

Read more

Culture

Could Rocky Balboa Really Have Gone the Distance?

By Tony Sokol

Movies

The Top 10 Carl Weathers Movie and TV roles

By Wil Jones

Apollo takes that rematch when he defends his title in Rocky II. The fight is set for Thanksgiving Day, and Rocky knocks the stuffing out of that turkey, and laps up the gravy. Many of the Rocky movies, including Creed, opened on Thanksgiving weekends, and are perfect “date movies.” The main bouts may focus on two fighters, but the love stories, starting with the one between Rocky and Adrian, are tenderer than the bird Paulie tossed in the alley.

Spider-Man

The original Spider-Man really is a superhero movie for all seasons. With its romantic and old-fashioned photography of New York City in the spring and autumn, the picture runs the calendar’s gamut in its storytelling of the webslinger’s first year on the job. But it also pivots on a rather eventful Thanksgiving dinner.

Read more

Movies

Why Spider-Man 2’s Train Fight is Superhero Cinema’s Greatest Action Scene

By Mark Harrison

Movies

Sam Raimi Spider-Man Trilogy Writer David Koepp Reveals Original Plans

By Joseph Baxter

Fresh off Spider-Man (Tobey Maguire) refusing to team up with the Green Goblin (Willem Dafoe), and after a blow up at a not-Macy’s Day Parade in Times Square, the pair’s alter-egos unwittingly meet up for Thanksgiving in Peter Parker’s apartment. It’s a swanky bachelor pad he shares with Harry Osborn (James Franco). But even with Aunt May (Rosemary Harris) and Mary Jane Watson (Kirsten Dunst) there to give it some holiday warmth, things get frosty when Dafoe’s patriarchal Norman realizes the kid passing him the cranberries is his mortal enemy. Awkward.

And yes, nearly 20 years later this strangely does feel like a holiday movie, doesn’t it?

ThanksKilling

This film is terrible. An exploitative C-cheapie horror where a turkey possessed by a demon with a smart mouth hunts and murders coeds. But if that’s your jam… well, it exists.

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The post Best Thanksgiving Movies to Watch This Holiday Season appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[lampmeeting]

since i can now do this ldsfk 1-Metalocalypse (obvi) and 2 Chickles back at you :3

oh HELL yeah *rubs hands together* okay this’ll be long so i’ll do a cut

Favorite character: PICKLESSSSS

Least Favorite character: everyone says rockso and like I GET IT he’s revolting, but my ultimate least-fave is toki’s dad. fuck that old man.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon): CHICKLES, HAMMERTOOTH, uhhhh (what else is there?? i’m kidding) nathan/abigail, charles/magnus, nathan/toki

Character I find most attractive: oh fuck don’t do this to me. i have too many types!! i can’t pick! fuck. i’m just gonna say charles. even though it’s magnus. wait. no. it’s pickles. charles. toki. fuck. magnus. i can’t do it dfkgjhf

Character I would marry: realistically?? like, i would say charles but unless i’m a member of dethklok i’m gonna be getting like .02% of that man’s time. honestly i would pick toki or nathan. toki would be so sweet and attentive, all the huggings and kissings, awww. nathan i feel would be the same, but only in private. you gotta kinda work on him a lil bit haha.

Character I would be best friends with: my heart says pickles but my soul says murderface. i would FOR SURE laugh at one of his off-hand under-his-breath comments because that’s just what i do, i fucking laugh at everything, and he’d be like OH? someone thinks i’m funny?? and then my life would never know peace (in a good way)

A random thought: i wanna hear all the dethklok albums from before the show started. like that album where their abs were airbrushed, wtf did that sound like?

An unpopular opinion: season 4 was good. :O i feel like i hear the sentiment from quite a few people that season 4 on the whole was bad. i love all the seasons equally actually.

My Canon OTP: CHICKLES. may i present to the court, exhibit A *points to my icon* (shhh no, let me dream)

My Non-canon OTP: toki/magnus :’) i think this is just about as non-canon as you can get, really. but the heart wants what it wants.

Most Badass Character: DEFINITELY charles.

Most Epic Villain: sorry, mags... salacia.

Pairing I am not a fan of: i think i’m willing to at least entertain most any ship. i’ve read some interesting things for sure. i draw the line at seth/pickles though (i’m glad that doesn’t really seem to exist anymore? it was around more back in the day).

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): aside from magnus and abigail, who both needed WAY more screen time?? i would say dr rockso in a sense. he was sort of that kooky rascal you wave your finger at when he gets in trouble, and then they had to go and do the whole dory mclean thing. and i get the point of the episode, but after that i wasn’t rooting for rockso anymore and he kinda became more of this sinister kinda figure? i dunno. i think that whole angle could’ve been done away with and it would’ve been a lot better. also him trying to fucking drown toki in the christmas episode. 8( ouch, man.

Favourite Friendship: probably nathan and pickles, since they’re the lynchpin of the whole outfit.

Character I most identify with: pickles with some toki on the side. :’) ahhh.

Character I wish I could be: i wanna be that girl that nathan was dating for a while, the one the boys end up befriending and playing scrabble with. i want to be their friiiiiiiiiend

OKAY CHICKLES TIIIIIIIME

When I started shipping them: WELL....okay so i actually just went back and looked at my old deviantart account and the first drawing i did of them (yes i’m linking to 14-year-old art pls don’t judge me) was on Oct. 18, 2006, so like...the dethfam episode hadn’t even aired yet. god damn. there was someone in the sausage festival livejournal community who had drawn the two of them, and then i fucking went ravenous for it real quick and it became like the only thing i drew for months hahaha. i had been nickles up until then. :O

My thoughts: MY THOUGHTS??? this is so vague. i have many thoughts. uh, for one? they’re perfect together? the straight-laced workaholic and the lazy degenerate? yes please, gimme. they’re like yin and yang, opposites attracting. and yet i feel like, once they get past that, they realize they’re both so similar at their cores. and pickles helps charles loosen up, and charles gives pickles some structure. they both give each other someone to lean on when shit gets bad. pickles can be a surprisingly good caretaker when he wants to be. :’)

What makes me happy about them: everything?? i really don’t know how to adequately describe just how much i love them and just how much that means hahah... you ever ship something for 14 years?? i know some of y’all have. it gets in your blood. that’s like over a third of my life right there. not to be dramatic or anything hahaha but they’re important to me. that ship helped get me through some rough months back when i lived alone in a crappy apartment, and it’s hilarious to me that i’m getting back into it hardcore like i was back then considering everything that’s going on right now, just current events-wise and personal stuff-wise.

What makes me sad about them: god damn, anything about those 9 months charles spent “dead”. anything post-doomstar. anything snakes ‘n barrels where they’re together for a short time and then never see each other until charles becomes dethklok’s manager. pickles pining after him for like a decade after the band forms. or charles pining, having to watch pickles party and do drunks and sleep around. or BOTH of them pining and not realizing it, or REALIZING IT and not acting on it because what if it hurt the band somehow? maybe charles wouldn’t want to jeopardize it but pickles would be okay with it, and charles would have to be the one to say no. ahhhhhhhHHHHHH

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: oof, i agree with you here, Ash. i’ve read a couple fics where, like, the bdsm aspect wasn’t even fun. i probably know the exact fic that left a bad taste in your mouth because there’s one specific one i’m thinking of that left a bad taste in mine (actually two...). like i had to actually get up from the computer and go do dishes hahah... uck. but yeah. don’t like charles being abusive to pickles. i think pickles does like some punishment from time to time, and he definitely has some daddy issues. but i don’t want it to get fucking sinister haha y’know? pickles, at his heart, is a good-times guy. he likes good feelings. he wants to feel nice. and charles, at HIS heart, is all about service.

Things I look for in fanfic: are they in love or just hooking up?? i mean i’ll take either at the end of the day, but i’m a romantic and i need the love, i crave it.

My wishlist: give to me all the fics about snakes n’ barrels chickles. how i haven’t written one baffles me (though i did have that huge plot write-up from months back haha...i should turn that into a real fic sometime). would also love a huge fic about their marriage, complete with canon-typical buffoonery. fics about them retiring together. ;0; fics about them just having nice peaceful moments. literally just.....any fic haha...

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: my soul literally begins to shatter apart if i consider them ultimately ending up with anyone else hahaha... other relationships can come and go, but at the end of the line i need those boys to be together. <3

My happily ever after for them: after galaktikon II, dethklok has kinda run its course. the band uses their near-infinite resources to help rebuild the earth. shortly after, it’s pickles who proposes in a surprising turn of events. shaken after the battle, he doesn’t wanna waste any more time. they get married barefoot on the beach probably in like fiji or something (pickles’ idea) with friends and family present (the okay ones haha, also magnus is there with toki because this is my dream, damnit). pickles has white flowers in his dreads in lieu of a bouquet. T~T everything goes well, no one crashes the wedding. they have a lovely honeymoon there when everyone else leaves. pickles says he’s decided to retire from music, but it’s not long before he’s working feverishly on new music in the home studio at their new place. some real expansive stuff. he’s kinda doing it as a weird therapy, coming to terms with some stuff. he never gets clean but he’s not using drugs and alcohol as a band-aid for his problems quite so much anymore. charles retires from managing bands (he doesn’t have the heart for it if it’s not dethklok) and ends up doing the adjunct professor thing whenever he gets bored. but he practices guitar a lot, pickles teaching him some advanced stuff, they jam together sometimes. he takes up sailing because it’s something he’s always wanted to do but never had time for. after pickles releases his first solo album, charles takes him on a long, romantic sailing trip. everything is perfect, everything’s gonna be good forever. 8′) forever. the end.

[masterofmagnetism]

♡ — How would your muse define love? Do they believe in soulmates? Do they believe this definition of love is achievable?

Erik is quiet for a long few moments, finds something to distract his hands with as he considers his answer.  

“When you love someone, they change your world.  When you think back to your life before you met them, it seems less complete for it, black and white versus technicolor.  They add brightness to your world, and you want nothing more than to stay close to that light and keep it burning, keep them safe.  Their happiness makes you happy with them, their sadness makes you sad with them, their anger makes you want to burn through whatever upset them.  You want to do whatever you can, everything you can, to bring a smile to their face or a laugh to their lips.  When you love someone, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them.  You want them healthy and happy and safe, even if it comes at your expense.  No matter the expense.  You think of wanting to tell them when something exciting happens, you think of wanting to lean on them when something tragic happens.  You see bits of them in the little things that make you smile.  You want to be your best self for them, and make the world its best self.  And g-d, it feels like losing a piece of yourself when they go away.  

“As for soulmates--we have a concept, in Judaism, called beshert along those lines.  Divine providence.  They say your other half is chosen before you’re even born, and that it’s not a union but a reunion of two souls.  But there’s some flexibility--we’re people, after all.  We have free will.  You could end up with the person chosen for you for your entire life, or you can choose to fit your soul with someone else’s.  And if you break apart from your beshert, that doesn’t mean you won’t find another.  I thought for a long time that my wife was mine.  I thought Charles might be, too.  I don’t believe that there’s some cosmic rule that says that you’re going to end up with a particular person, and the people who think that are probably going to not put in the work they need to keep a relationship alive because it’s ‘meant to be.’  We have agency, and where there’s agency, there’s responsibility.  I think there are certain people whose souls mesh better with yours than others, but you both have to be willing to work for that connection to stick.  We grow as people, and you need to be willing to work to smooth down the rough edges and bubbles that happen as you’re growing together.  Divine providence doesn’t mean letting life just happen to you.  It means taking the opportunities you’re given and working to make something of them.”  

[[AN: So a couple things to unpack here: first off, Erik’s idea of love isn’t necessarily a healthy one.  He lost his entire family to the Nazis, and he married Magda while he was still a teenager after they escaped.  He didn’t have much time to see any positive relationship modeling before-hand, and when he was with Magda, they pretty much only had each other the entire them they were married.  This is where some of Erik’s less healthy ideas about love start cementing--his fierce, almost possessive protectiveness of the people he cares about comes from decades of constantly looking over their shoulders and being responsible for taking care of someone else when he never even got the chance to take care of himself.  A lot of Erik’s ideas about love are based on self-sacrifice, and he made a lot of sacrifices to keep them afloat and to keep her safe.  The one time he dropped his guard, he lost the family he’d spent so much time protecting.  

Because of this, Erik also doesn’t really grasp the concept of letting go.  He doesn’t understand how you could just step aside and let go of someone you love instead of fighting for them.  With Charles, he would never have left the Institute if he hadn’t taken their conversation on the beach as Charles telling him to; he wasn’t going to force himself somewhere he wasn’t wanted.  And as soon as he felt like he had some sort of door to get through to him, Erik started paying Charles visits, texting him, calling him, trying to rebuild a relationship he never actually let go of, up until this latest thing with Big Bird. 

That is also gonna be one of the obstacles with their reconciliation--Erik feels like if you won’t fight for something, then you must not have really loved it in the first place.  He’s honestly very confused and more than a little bit hurt, though he’d been doing his best to tamp that part down in the interests of trying to build bridges himself, that Charles doesn’t appear to have been trying to do the same.]]

[birdlord]

Every Book I Read in 2018

Again, better late than never??

01 On the Town; Marshall Berman - A freewheeling personal and general history of Times Square, which had some great historical tidbits I’d never read before. I think I would have got more out of it if I were interested in Broadway musicals...

02 Stephen Florida; Gabe Habash - A slim little book that follows a college wrestler. One of those books that is described as muscular, when what they mean is brutal. 

03 Green Grass, Running Water; Thomas King - Four plot lines intertwine in a story blending mythology, creation, and modern First Nations people dealing with massive transformational change to their lands. I did sometimes feel like I would have enjoyed it more as an audio storytelling experience. 

04 People who Eat Darkness: The Fate of Lucie Blackman; Richard Lloyd Parry - I don’t often read books like this, but this is essentially a true-crime sort of story, about the murder of a British woman who works as a bar hostess in Japan. Parry covers not just her story, but the whole aftermath, which even pulls in Tony Blair, eventually. 

05 My Brother’s Husband; Gengoroh Tagame - Weirdly, two Japan-related books in a row! Another culture-clash tale, when the Canadian husband visits his deceased husband Ryoji’s single-parent brother. The couple had never been to Japan while Ryoji was alive, and so the story of slow acceptance (helped along by little Kana’s openhearted curiosity) is suffused with sadness. 

06 Ghosts of the Tsunami: Life & Death in Japan’s Disaster Zone; Richard Lloyd Parry - And, let’s make it three! When the earthquake and tsunami hit Japan in 2011, I remember thinking that the reaction seemed so orderly, so...Japanese. But this examination puts you right in the various affected communities, following different people, including schoolchildren from Okawa primary. Like with the other Parry book above, we hear about all of the grief, ghosts and lawsuits that follow the disaster. 

07 Mademoiselle: Coco Chanel and the Pulse of History; Rhonda K. Garelick - Once she became famous, Coco Chanel built a scaffolding of lies about her past, and the purpose of this biography is to attempt to see the truth behind them. Garelick concentrates heavily on Chanel’s collaboration with the Nazis, which must have been a challenge given that her company still exists, under her name.

08 Kubrick; Michael Herr - “They speak about the dumbing of America as a foregone thing, already completed, but, duh, it’s a process, and we haven’t seen anything yet. The contemplation of this culture isn’t for sissies, and speaking about it without becoming shrill is increasingly difficult, maybe impossible.” Whoa!

09 Call Me by Your Name; Andre Aciman - I did read this after seeing the film, so as usual it was hard to divorce it from the movie experience. 

10 The Left Hand of Darkness; Ursula K LeGuin - A thought experiment about a genderless world, seen from the perspective of an off-planet envoy, who has a range of reactions to the world’s inhabitants. The most enduring section of the book involves a brutal 3-month expedition undertaken by the exiled envoy and a local, a trial by ice, wind and snow. A winter read. 

11 Stamped from the Beginning; Ibram X. Kendi - I don’t think I’d really fully grokked the idea that southern white supremacy built itself in order to prevent an uprising of the black and white underclasses, together. The basic rubric of this book is separating American movements, parties and individuals’ thinking into one of three categories: assimilationist, segregationist or genuinely antiracist. Supporting results like abolitionism does NOT make one antiracist, since support could come those with less pure motivations. I highly recommend this one, though it was copy-edited in a pretty haphazard manner!

12 Witches, Midwives and Nurses: A History of Women Healers; Barbara Ehrenreich & Dierdre English - A short book charting a couple of parallel stories, of women healers in Europe being dismissed as witches, and the masculinization of medicine (particularly midwifery and the medicine of birth) in the USA. 

13 Her Body and Other Parties; Carmen Maria Machado - Short stories skirting the edge of a lot of genres; horror, science fiction, dark comedy. These are women’s stories, that refuse to be dismissed as chick lit. It didn’t connect with me as deeply as it has for some, but I see the appeal. 

14 Look Alive Out There; Sloane Crosley - Largely comedic set of essays by a writer whose earlier work I read, about a decade back. It’s a strange experience, to return to someone who has written memoir that seemed to exemplify that late-2000s era and discover that she - and you - have grown. 

15 Homesick for Another World; Otessa Moshfegh - Moshfegh’s choice of words (not to mention her characters themselves) remain utterly revolting. I often found myself looking up, shaking my head as if to say THIS BOOK. Considerably funnier than Eileen, which was the first of hers that I read. 

16 My Year of Rest & Relaxation; Otessa Moshfegh - After reading this, I found out that Moshfegh basically set out to get her work noticed by populating it with these vile young women. Well, it worked! Your tolerance for unlikeable main characters will be tested by this rich Columbia grad who decides to prescribe herself into a virtual coma within her NY apartment, at the turn of the millennium. And yes, it ends where you think it does. 

17 They Can’t Kill us Until They Kill Us; Hanif Abdurraquabi - This collection of music-related writing is wildly far-ranging, poetic and emotional. For myself, I did find I was more interested in those that were related to bands or musicians I had some experience with myself , which was not always the case. 

18 The Bad Food Bible: How and Why to Eat Sinfully; Aaron Carroll and Nina Teicholtz - If you’re a reader of the food media, most of what’s in here will be familiar to you, debunking fears of meat, GMOs, gluten, MSG. The authors keep their own experience, taste and interests very much in the forefront, which ends up feeling smug and irritating. 

19 The Mere Wife: A Novel; Maria Dahvana Headley - My knowledge of Beowulf is scant at best, but this retelling stood very much on its own two feet, set in a tony suburb and comparing the experience of two very different mothers of two very different sons. 

20 How to Write an Autobiographical Novel: Essays; Alexander Chee - I’m very much On The Record as being against writers writing about writing, but this might just be an exception. 

21 Vancouver Special; Charles Demers - A sort of update on Douglas Coupland’s City of Glass, a book I loved and reread many times. This one has both a more historical bent, and an actual political viewpoint, contrasting with Coupland’s Gen X remoteness.

22 Crudo; Olivia Laing - A rushing frantic little novel, incorporating Trump tweets and Kathy Acker quotes throughout. A difficult read so close to the events described, but I can see this being an amazing window into this weird time, once a few years have passed. 

23 Hits & Misses; Simon Rich - This might also be on the line of “writers writing about writing” but Rich manages to do so in a charmingly self-deprecating way. 

24 2020 Commission Report on the North Korean Nuclear Attacks Against the US; Jeffrey Lewis - Speculative fiction written as a government report, responding, as we all have been doing, to the endlessly unprecedented Trump presidency. It all started with a tweet, of course...

25 A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities that Arise in Disaster; Rebecca Solnit - This book is intended to counter the idea that disasters (“natural” and otherwise) lead people to indulge their worst sides. Solnit looks at the aftermath of some 20th C disasters like the Halifax Explosion, 9/11 and various earthquakes to find examples of people banding together to help the wounded and homeless, even taking the opportunity to create new institutions when authorities fail to do so. A tonic for a world in which disasters are likely to become increasingly common. 

26 How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them; Jason Stanley - When I lived in Scotland in 2010, I went to an anti-fascist rally in Edinburgh, and I remember feeling like those attitudes were closer to the surface over there, where at home in Canada they felt abstract. This book traces how fascist policies lurk within democratic frameworks, and can sometimes metastasize to take over the host. Suffice it to say I was probably wrong then, and I’m definitely wrong now.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

suzuwarahikaru replied to your post “what happens at 5 am?”

where is the essay, OP!?

@suzuwarahikaru​ Honestly, it’s drivel and I didn’t feel like it particularly went anywhere and it was just me monologuing about one aspect of a bigger question so that’s why I didn’t post it. But ok, just for some context: You probably know how the MCU was often criticised for having “bland one off villains” and that’s true especially in their early films - and that was time when Heath Ledger’s Joker loomed very large and Ian McKellen was famous for his performance of Magneto and the idea for a Magneto solo film had just been scrapped in favour of XM First Class. At that point apparently the MCU guys walked up with the demand that Thor 1 only has to give them 1 thing: A villain as good as Magneto which they could use in Avengers. Now, obviously it had to be Loki, because Loki is Thor’s most famous antagonist and he was the first guy the Avengers ever fought in the comics, and Loki in Thor 1 is satisfyingly complex - but now that Loki’s dead and has a solo show coming out in a while, people dug up that old quote and started arguing about whether Loki actually became a villain “as good as Magneto” - which I honestly wouldn’t care about, except this argument spilled a few  “But Loki is great and Magneto is boring”-posts into the Magneto tag a while ago (which mixes with a lot of: Why did Cherik get a happy end but Stucky didn’t that’s so unfair!!!! posts) and then some comments started lowkey implying that Loki is a character who’s more attractive to sophisticated fans and that Magneto fans are usually men and Loki fans women (with the not so subtle implication being that Magneto fans are comic dude bros who like him for his cool powers and because he’s a Bad Guy(TM) I don’t really care about that, but over the course of this argument someone made a rather interesting post, wondering about what “went wrong” with Loki and while I love Loki as a character and as a villain, it made me ponder what could have been done to make Loki (even) better and to help him stand on his own 2 feet as a character and this was their post:

Now and this was going to be my response: Personally, I don’t think that having spectacular powers or anything make a villain good (they make good visuals though) but whether the hero learns something from fighting them, whether their motivation maybe reflects something that we experience as well and that maybe they unmask something that we usually don’t feel comfortable to address. And Loki has all these qualities.

I’m not going to try to objectively pinpoint where it ‘went wrong’ but it’s actually interesting to look at the XMCU and the MCU and to compare notes. The XMCU is often criticised for being too wordy, too slow-paced and “what’s with the constant time jumps and decade-hopping?” But I think that’s something the Thor franchise could actually have profited from, because…these guys are immortals and it just feels rushed in my opinion to watch their world fall apart in what is for them a matter of a long weekend. 

For example, a bigger distance between the events of Thor 1 and Avengers would have lent more weight to Loki’s disappearance and Thanos torturing and brainwashing him, Thor’s and Jane’s relationship would have been given more time to develop (making their reunion in Thor 2 more meaningful). They could also have given her more time exploring Asgard/battling the Ether. We could have learnt more about the Dark Elves, the Frost Giants, the Nine Realms in general. 

And that’s at least part of the problem, in my opinion: We don’t know enough about Asgard. You can’t just throw in an alien word without world-building and you can’t introduce characters who are millennia old by showing us 6 years of their lives and maybe 1 flashback. There is a reason why a show like Good Omens spent basically an entire episode on Crowley and Aziraphale’s lives through the millennia. Captain America got a film set in the WW2, Wolverine Origins covers over a century of Logan’s story. Magneto isn’t a better (or worse) villain than Loki, because as you said, the writing makes the character and both get pretty good and pretty bad writing at times. But a big difference is: We know a lot more about Magneto than we know about Loki. 

One example of this is personal relationships. Something I never realised before I started typing this is how little space Loki is given to let him form/have/maintain/test/strengthen meaningful relationships. 

Basically, all his meaningful interactions are inside his family. Magneto (to be clear, I’m bringing up so often bc the MCU apparently insisted on being rude af and asking Kenneth Branagh on drawing inspiration from a character who’s basically the opposite of Loki in every regard) gets a lot more screen time to develop his relationships with other characters, even if it means less CGI action scenes. 

In fact, I’m currently tempted to find out how many 1 on 1 dialogue scenes Loki gets per hour of film vs. how many Magneto gets. Loki enters the picture with a family, ‘friends’, a biological father, servants, an entire kingdom of people who know him, but he barely gets to have any meaningful interactions outside of his family environment. Seeing him interact with a friend or even someone who hates him for reasons unrelated to his relationship with Thor or someone who supports him would in turn show us a lot about how he sees other people, how he sees himself, how he treats them, what he values in a person, what kind of people trusts (if he trusts) – that’s a lot of potential that was left pretty much wasted in my opinion. 

One of the first things Agent of Asgard did was add Verity Willis to its main-cast so have a character for Loki to interact with, to serve as a moral anchor, and to call him out on his bullshit. Having relationships is powerful. In the MCU, Loki’s relationship with his mother is such an important, humanising element to his character. Also a lot of headcanons and metas and thoughts about Loki are inspired by those few scenes where we see him interact with the Warrior’s Three and Sif before Loki finds out about his parentage. 

And even when encounters the Avengers, they meet once, they talk once, then Loki he returns to Asgard and they never meet again, except Bruce - and even then there’s barely any time to talk about what happened in Avengers 1. He doesn’t get to form any meaningful relationships with his adversaries when he talks to them in Av1, these scenes just exist to present the Avengers in a certain light. And in the end it’s canonised that Loki was brainwashed so it’s all pointless anyway. (pls (don’t) make me write an essay on agency and the MCU, because honestly, between Bucky, Gamora, Nebula, Loki and everyone else was brainwashed it’s actually worth a conversation)

Even in Thor 1 Loki never meets Jane or Darcy, one of the main-characters. And we never see a single frost giant after the first film. Erik Solveig is the only Earth character from Thor 1 Loki actually meets and he’s brainwashed for most of that and in Thor 2, they don’t get to meet again. 

Imagine if Loki had had someone he trusted in Thor 1 and told them about finding out he’s a Frost Giant and they reject him and treat him like a monster. This could be three or four scenes that don’t throw off the film but would have been very powerful. Or imagine if Loki keeps his heritage a secret from that friend/trusted person and they find out in Thor 2 and confront him about it. Valkyrie and Loki never talk about him invading her mind or the things he saw. 

We never get to see him alone on Sakaar to deal with what he presumes is the end of his home world and the death of everyone he knows and we never see him interact ‘win the Grandmaster’s trust’. 

We never see him interact with the Hulk before they’re suddenly fighting side by side in Infinity War. We never find out exactly what the Aesir’s sentiments towards him are, what kind of prince he was in the past, how present he is in public, what reputation he has beyond silver-tongue mischief guy and which specific events shaped it.

If the MCU wants a villain “as good as Magneto” (which is already annoying bc they imply that Loki is not as good a villain which is such a subjective measure – Magneto done wrong is a horrible and downright offensive villain and trickster characters done right are amazing for revealing the flaws of a hero.*) then they have to give writers and actors the same means to do that with. The X-Men franchise, for all it flaws, always gave Magneto screen-time (so much that people criticised it). 

There’s a Charles-and-Erik dialogue in pretty much every film, allowing us to follow the state of their eternal argument at every step. We see his friendship with Mystique grow and fall, we see Wolverine call him out on his bullshit, his attempt to make young Hank and Mystique feel better about their visible mutations, we know how he treats his followers, his new recruits, his enemies, his students, his wife and his daughter, (daughters, if we count The Gifted and his legacy), his colleagues, his lovers, his ex-lovers, allies and former allies, politicians, police, prison guards, Nazis, soldiers, insane Egyptian gods – and we get to learn his feelings and thoughts about all of these through personal interactions, decisions and gestures. And in turn we know how they feel about Magneto. What do we know about Loki’s feelings about people outside his family? How does he feel about Fandral? What are his thoughts on the Valkyrior? How did his views on Frost Giants change and when? Did he challenge them at all or did he just become cynical about them? 

As I said, Loki is a formidable villain but I think that he suffers from the same problem as many MCU characters: We hardly know them. Think about Natascha whose been part of the franchise since Iron Man 2 but we hardly know anything about her. How much do we know about the family Drax lost? Or about Wanda’s family? About Pepper’s private life? We hardly know anything about them and especially when characters are thousands of years old and we know nothing about their past, it really creates a gaping hole in their biography and that really leads back to my original point: If we could spend more time with them, we would know them better and care more. One of the reason Dark Phoenix is a bit under-whelming is because we know very little about Jean and Scott in this time line. 

There are two DCEU films I actually own and watched more than once: Wonder Woman and Aqua Man. And while I personally didn’t find Aqua Man that good, this film actually tells us a lot about him and despite my lack of knowledge about the DCEU and me being a giant Marvel nerd, I preferred Wonder Woman over Captain Marvel and that is because I felt closer to her character. It really boils down to a “show don’t tell issue” and for me, that would mean: Maybe fewer giant CGI battles. more people living their lives. *(which should also highlight why setting Magneto as a mark for K.B. is so off-mark. Loki is about unmasking hypocrisy, Magneto himself is a hypocrite who regards himself as a hero but often does immoral things and that for example gets unmasked by Wolverine, another social outsider with littl care for social conventions)

[7-wonders]

The Devil Wears Jaclyn Hill

Word count: 1678

A/N: Yikes I’m nervous about posting this. This is my first time writing for Michael, and I really have no clue how it went. Let me know what you think, and if you want to see more of Michael!

Michael’s a man of elegant tastes. He enjoys the finest fabrics, the most decadent food and drink, top-of-the-line cars, and anything with a price tag more than some people's’ college tuitions. That’s part of the reason he finds you so intriguing.

You, in your cramped apartment that you share with two other people to cut down on costs. You, who rushes back and forth between your two jobs that leave you tired and sore daily. Your life is one that consists of microwaveable foods, coupons, and upcycled clothing. It’s a world that’s vastly different from Michael’s, which is probably why he likes spending so much time with you.

When the rising Antichrist steps through your threshold, gone are the responsibilities of Cooperative meetings and eager Satanists. No longer is he fawned over and waited on hand-and-foot. When he’s with you, he’s just ‘Y/N’s boyfriend.’ One of your roommates laughed in his face once when you asked him to load the dishwasher and it turned out he didn’t know what a dishwasher was.

Where Michael’s Gucci and Versace, you’re Target and Forever 21. While Michael only dines at restaurants owned by his father or those with Michelin stars, you’re more than happy with Qdoba or In-N-Out. Michael’s diamonds, and you’re cubic zirconia. The differences between your lives are almost startling, if Michael didn’t take every opportunity possible to spoil you. Normally you refuse his expensive gifts, but you’re more than happy to let him treat you to some new makeup every now and then.

Makeup is your medium. It’s how you unwind after a long day of work, watching the newest tutorials and studying them intently. It’s how you can make your regular outfits look a little bit more special. More importantly, it’s what you love to do, even if it frustrates you to no end. Plus, your makeup is priced on the drugstore end of the spectrum, so you don’t feel too bad about finally giving in.

Michael’s sitting in the corner of your room, answering work emails on his phone while you watch a new James Charles video for the fourth time. You groan when the video cuts from a half-done face to the finished look.

“‘And there you have it, sisters!’” You can’t help but to mock the guru’s voice. “Better sister shut the fuck up before I sister slap the shit outta you.” Michael chuckles at your angry muttering, glancing up to look at you.

“Everything okay over there?” He asks. You turn to face him, shaking your head.

“He just goes so fast! The video’s over and I look so stupid.” You gesture to your face as an example. Pursing his lips, Michael looks at your eye makeup. It’s actually not that bad for such a complicated look, it’s just that you only have one eye done.

“It doesn’t look bad, my love, it just looks half-finished.” You playfully roll your eyes at him before grabbing a makeup wipe and wiping your canvas clean. Michael watches as you organize your makeup again with care, making sure everything’s in its’ designated spot.

“Michael?” The man lets out a hum of acknowledgment, letting you know he’s waiting. “What would you say if I wanted to do your makeup?” The silence in the room is overwhelming to you. You know that Michael would never get upset at an idea of yours like some of your past relationships would have. Still, your anxiety skyrockets whenever he gets quiet. He’s always so good at reading people without sparing a glance their way, that you envy his ability in this moment.

“Never mind, it was stupid. I’m sorry.” You start babbling, taking his silence as an answer. He grabs your hand to stop you from getting up, pulling you into his lap.

“Nothing you ever say could be stupid. I was just thinking. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, now that your plans are all starting to be put in motion, you’ve been developing a very specific style.” You reference his hair, which has started to touch his shoulders in recent months, and his outfits. He doesn’t need to be reminded how much you love the gloves he’s added to his wardrobe, and you flush at the mere thought of those leather-clad hands on your bare thighs. Shaking your head slightly, you continue. “Well, what if you spiced it up with an eye look?”

His eyebrow quirks, and you can tell he’s intrigued.

“You don’t have to do all the face stuff?” He asks.

“No, we can do as much or as little as you’d like. I was thinking some red? Nothing too crazy, just enough to make those eyes of yours pop.” A slight smile graces his face, and you find yourself grinning at the very sight of it.

“Show me.” He demands. You nearly jump out of his seat in excitement.

“Seriously? You’re not just doing this to, like, make me happy, are you?”

“I’ve always been fascinated with makeup, and lots of men wear it today. Besides, in the new world, we can do whatever we want, be whoever we want.”

The new world.

Michael’s been talking of this for weeks now, ever since the plans for an apocalypse were finalized. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little sick at the idea of nuclear annihilation, but Michael insists that it’s all for the greater good. The world needs to be cleansed and remade, you remind yourself. You know that the destruction and nuclear winter will only be temporary before a new world flourishes from its’ ashes. There’s a part of you that trembles with excitement whenever Michael goes on about ruling, telling you that, as his queen, you’ll be right next to him.

You stray towards your desk, running your hands over your palettes. After careful deliberation, you decide that the Jaclyn Hill palette has the color range you’re needing. You grab the palette and a couple of brushes before making your way back to Michael, who grabs you again. For the harbinger of the apocalypse, he’s very clingy and touch-starved. You straddle his hips and move his hair out of his eyes.

The process is slow at first, with you having to remind Michael to keep his eyes closed until you say so. When you put primer on his eyes, he jumps back.

“That’s cold!” He yelps. Laughing, you dab it on his eyelids, forming an even base.

“It’s primer. It makes the makeup stand out more and makes everything look even.” You patiently explain. “Open your eyes, please.” He looks at you expectantly and you giggle. “Do you have a color preference?”

You pop open the palette and watch as his eyes take in the myriad of colors. Pointing to one, he glances at you.

“Is this one okay?” He’s pointing at Hunts, the most pigmented red in the palette. You nod.

“Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with, love.” You’re not all that shocked that he’s picked the most vibrant red there is. The man has a near-obsession with blood, after all. You grab one of your brushes and dip it in one of your neutral shades. Even though your attention is on the makeup in front of you, you can tell Michael is watching you. You’ve been together long enough now that you can feel his piercing gaze from across the room.

“That’s not the red.” He points out obviously, grinning when you roll your eyes.

“Don’t want the primer to be the only thing on your eyes.” You swipe the color across both of his lids, satisfied with the effect it has. Grabbing a smaller brush, you gently dip it into the red shade Michael had picked out. You tap the brush against the pan, making sure there’s no fallout before you start lightly applying it to the inner creases of his eye.

“You’re thinking about it again.” He mumbles, not wanting to mess up your concentration.

“Thinking about what?”

“My plans. My father. The apocalypse.” You move the brush in a circular motion, blending the shade out.

“Yes.” You settle, knowing arguing about it is futile.

“Why? Are you scared? You’re going to be safe, my love, you know that.” Dipping back into the shade, you tap the brush on the pan again, harsher this time.

“I’m scared that you’re not going to be safe, Michael.” You explain. He somehow manages to furrow his brows without moving his eyelids, and you’re mildly impressed.

“Honey, I’m the Antichrist. Nothing’s going to hurt me.” You nod before remembering what can’t see you.

“What if something goes wrong?” He grips your waist with his hands, squeezing reassuringly.

“I’ve been preparing for this my entire life. My father has been preparing for this since the beginning of time. I promise you that everything will go as it’s planned.” You lean back, choosing to study your work. Satisfied that it looks even, you lag a hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“I’m done, I think.” Moving off of his lap, you wait for him to stand and face the mirror.

“Wait.” He grabs your wrist, standing so he’s eye-level with you. “Are you okay? Did that help ease your nerves?”

You love getting to see this soft side of Michael, the side that’s reserved only for you. You’re pretty sure all of his devoted followers have no clue he’s even capable of being like this.

“Yes, it did. I just want to get this over with. I wish I could just wake up and be in our new, perfect world now, y’know?” Michael nods, kissing the top of your head.

“Soon.” He walks the two of you over to the mirror, where he scrutinizes his new look. “You were right about the red making my eyes stand out.”

“So you like it?” You ask, hiding your smile in his shoulder.

“I’m thinking you might have to buy a few more of those palettes before the bombs drop.”

If there were angels in hell, you’re pretty sure Michael would be the prettiest of them all.