#felt like it was important to include a pic of it all stretched out

[hot-hot-wheels]

Aero Lift

[kooksbunnnn]

SO HIM- MIN YOONGI

pic ctto

masterlist

Pairing: idol!yoongi × female reader

Warnings: none. It's fluff. Slightly suggestive in the beginning. You miss him. Making out.

Words: 1.2k words

_______________________________

At this point, you couldn't even smell him in your bed anymore. Him being cooped up in his studio has its own pros and cons. Pros being the new mind blowing songs he would produce for his fans which, ofcourse, includes you too, whereas the cons, you not being able to see him for days considering both of your busy schedules and him generally sleeping in the genius lab.

Motivation and inspiration can make a person workoholic, and Min Yoongi is an example of that. It's one of those nights where he would be overworking himself, and you know you would have to sleep without cuddling him or kissing him good night for the 4th time this week.

You missed your boyfriend so much.

You can't even remember when was the last time you felt him, like actually felt him, over you, behind you, beside you, beneath you, inside you.

Oh, you wanna feel him inside you so bad, the reminder of that stretch makes your stomach swirl.

You step into your room mindlessly, scrolling through your phone when a notification pops on your upper screen.

Catto: you up?

Seeing his text, you stop in the way to your bedroom. He rarely texts from work, and it makes your eyebrows furrow with concern when he pops up in your notification bar at 11:47 pm.

You: yes baby. All okay?

You wait for him to reply, which comes almost in 3 seconds. The three dots quickly turning into a message, saying,

Catto: i wanna see you doll, haven't seen you in ages, AND bumping in hallways doesn't count, baby. I miss you, sm :(

You: i miss you toooo baby:(((

Catto: :((((((((

You read his message and feel your bottom lip jut out due to his cuteness. You sigh sadly when you look at your empty bed covered with cold sheets along with his shirt lying on his side along with the pillow he uses.

Let's call it emotional support.

You want to visit him so bad, but the comeback is close, and you dont want to disturb him. Your mom always used to tell you, a relationship works only if you understand the difference between important things and priorities, responsibilities and duties, you both would need to understand what the other needs to prioritize at the moment.

So when you met Yoongi, you understood why your mom always said that. You know right now what priority and responsibilities are, so it doesn't make you insecure about the fact that you are also one of the most important things in his life. So, no matter how much you both miss each other, you can't just expect him to keep his job, his passion, the need of the moment, aside for a moment together.

Just like he doesn't expect you to keep your job and passion aside, he knows how important it is for you and vice versa.

You spend the next ten to fifteen minutes getting comfortable on your side of the bed. Picking up the book you left with a bookmark on the night table. But before you could pick it up, your phone rings.

You see Yoongi's picture smiling at you, but then your eyes focus on the time on the top left corner of your phone. It's 20 minutes past midnight. Concerned, you answer the call.

"Baby, everything okay?" You ask as soon as you pick up.

"Come downstairs, I brought chicken."

"What- why are you not coming upstairs?" You ask already halfway out of the bed, you hear him ruffling the polybags grumbling something about sauce so you run towards the kitchen to pick up his favorite hot sauce from the counter.

"I can't, babe. I have to return to the studio. Jungkookie's waiting. Moreover, if I come upstairs, I will end up sleeping the night and then regret it the next morning. You know? " He tells you, and you understand his worry, you have seen him regret a tiny 2 hour nap at his studio, resulting in a grumpy and irritated look on his face the whole day.

He also indirectly signals to you that he can't stay for long, so you rush down faster.

Its not like you dont want him to relax but you know he will just end up blaming himself up for it the next day fully convinced it was his mistake to relax when he needed to work no matter how much you try to calm him down.

Yes. Speaking from experience.

"Coming, bubs." You hang up and step into the elevator after checking the door, hands filled with a hot sauce bottle and two water bottles. You smile when the elevator finally reaches the ground floor. The excitement feels like the time you two were dating, sneaking around, hiding from people, and the staff as well.

It's funny how Bang pd was the one to find out about you both before all the boys did. That day, you realized that Jin DOES NOT LIKE being left out on important stuff.

When you spot his car, you sprint towards it with a big smile. The windows are slightly tinted(security purposes), making you unable to see the smile that comes on his face after he spots you. You quickly open the door impatiently, and your smile widens more. He is wearing that white shirt of his, which makes you wanna worship the man, unbuttoned up to the second button, hair fluffed up due to running of his fingers multiple times.

You sigh happily when he pulls you in his arms as soon as you get into the car, not even caring about the car door still being slightly ajar.

"I missed you." His voice coming out muffled due to your hair.

"I missed you too, baby." You chuckle as you lean back, breaking the hug to close the door properly. Turning back you see that he has his head resting upon the seat while he looks at you with the prettiest smile you've ever seen.

Fuck, you love this man.

Leaning in again, he cups your cheek and kisses you, slow and soft, slowly sneaking his tongue into it. His hand places itself on your neck, and the other one reaches for your waist. Pulling you on top of him.

You get comfortable on his lap, kissing him as if he was water, and you just woke up thirsty at 3 in the night. Oh, you definitely were thirsty for him.

You felt so happy in the kiss you never wanted it to end. Fisting the white shirt in one hand as you let the other explore his fluffy and long hair. Some minutes later, he tries to pull back, but you dont let him, whining a 'no' with furrowed yet concentrated eyebrows, making him chuckle in the middle of your kiss.

"Baby the chicken?" He tells you with a laugh, shoulders bouncing with that pretty laugh of his. You watch his gummy smile with a silly little smile on your face as well.

You missed this so much. He raises his eyebrow once again when you flick the strand of hair sitting prettily over his forehead, tracing his nose bridge almost like in a trance.

"Well?" He asks again, and you then realize you zoned out. It's been 3 days since you had talked to him properly, and it would be an understatement to just say you missed him.

Smiling, you lean in for a quick peck once again, making him hum, in that deep voice of his. It reaches within you and somehow gives you so much comfort that you feel overwhelmed.

Not to sound overdramatic, but he makes you feel still, mentally, unlike the frantic thoughts that were always running around in your head when you were away from him.

He is just so perfect. So gorgeous, so calming, so 'him'.

You nod with a wide smile, booping his pretty nose,

"Okay baby, lets eat."

____________________________________

[coriumcutie]

Christmas Challenge: Day 03 💗

Today my body hurt like hell cuz of all the exercise yesterday, but I felt a lot more energetic than normal!!! I feel like today was a good day in term of the challenge, and I’m excited to continue :)

| Physical Health 🦢

I was somewhat lax today, so I only went on a walk once, but I had dance class today, and a worked out and stretched before bed! I also made plans to go bouldering next weekend with friends :)))

| Studying ❄️

I studied both Math and French for about 45 mins each, and reviewed my science notes for about 15 mins!!! I mostly am resting and doing OSSLT prep tho

| Mandarin ☃️

I somewhat forgot about it until the end of the day, so I just watched a short blog, practiced my vocab, and did ✨ Duolingo ✨

| Self care 🧣

I took a full shower today, so hair included, plus I did my skincare, and cleaned my room nicely in the morning. To add on for tonight, I was reccomended to sleep on the floor by my dance teachers, so ima try that!!!

Overall, today was a bit painful, but a good day!!! I’m not too excited to try the floor, but my posture is important. If it’s too painful//uncomfortable, ill take short naps on the floor instead and sleep in bed at night <333

Daily song: Organise - Asake

Daily word: 照相机 zhào xiàng jī - camera

Affirmation: You did it before, you’ll do it again

Daily pic:

[sheliesshattered]

The last several days have been all about getting through the top-stitching for my Batuu vest. When I decided to do this, it seemed like a simple finishing step -- and it wasn't difficult at all, just time consuming. Worth it, achieved the look I was hoping for, but felt like it took forever.

I also had to finally make a decision about adding a little stand up collar to the back half of the neckline, but after playing around with some scrap pieces and holding them up to myself in the mirror, I decided I actually like the look of the vest better without a collar -- and it'll interfere less with my hooded wrap, too. I didn't take a picture of the back neckline until after all the top-stitching was done, but now that it's all finished it looks like this:

But back to the top-stitching! With the lining and the exterior attached to each other last week, doing the top-stitching around the edges was easy, but even for a fairly small vest it just seemed to go on and on, lol. Once that was done, I had to carefully line up all seams so that the lining and exterior matched before I could top-stitch around the seams. That process was time consuming too, requiring a lot of precision pinning and re-pinning, and in the middle of it I ran out of thread and had to wait for more to be delivered.

I also had to stop each of the lines of top-stitching about an inch shy of the armscyes, so that I would have wiggle room to carefully line up the lining and exterior layers of the armscyes, too. Getting the armscyes to match involved a lot of re-folding and ironing and pinning, but I was finally able to top-stitch the two layers together, hiding the lace hem tape that I'd previously finished the armscyes with. Only then was I able to finish the top-stitching along the seams up to the edge with the armscyes.

In every place where the top-stitching along the seams came to the top-stitching along the edges, I was careful not to cross that line, just come right up to it. It's a tiny detail that no one will ever notice, but I think it adds to the tailored look of the vest.

I also didn't want to do any back-stitching or have any place in the top-stitching with two stitches stacked on top of each other, so I had to tie off each line of stitching and then hide the long ends of the threads inside the space between the exterior and the lining. That was worthwhile, and not too obnoxious for the long stretches of top-stitching. But filling in all those ~1" long gaps I'd left around the armscyes created a ton of thread ends to deal with. 32 in total, if my off-the-top-of-my-head math is right, but it certainly felt like more while I was working my way through each fiddly step.

But the end result is super clean and even I can't pick out where one line of stitching ended and the next one picked up. And with that, all the machine sewing on the vest is DONE!

The vest is totally wearable as-is, but sewing on some hooks and eyes will help the overlap and underlap flaps stay in place, so I think it's worth doing. The interesting looking hooks and eyes I ordered arrived and will be perfect for my needs, I think.

While I had good amount of daylight today, I tried the vest on with my Jyn Erso sweatshirt and the leather-look leggings I'll be wearing with the outfit, and used pins to mark out where I want the two most important clips to sit -- the one at the underbust, and the one just above the end of the zipper at the midbust. The spacing of those two will decide the spacing for the rest of the hooks and eyes.

In the pic below I have the hooks and eyes sitting on top of the placement for the underbust pair, but most of these will be hidden under the overlap. Though, hmm, now that I've said that, maybe I should play around with keeping these visible? Hmm.

I also used pins to mark where the edges of the overlap end, including at the upper corner. I'm going to attach a hook and eye there so that I can close the overlap all the way up, but mostly I'll just let that bit hang open (like the roguish scoundrel that I am). Even if I hide the rest of the hooks and eyes, the exposed pair will be a bit of texture and realism, without breaking the no-visible-zippers-in-Star-Wars rule.

The actual hand-sewing of each hook and eye shouldn't take too long, but getting them all placed is going to be the difficult part. To get everything to lay smooth, I may have to try the vest on to get the placement correct. I'm really happy with how it looks currently, but I think the hooks and eyes will really add that last finishing touch.

Besides the vest, I'm continuing to work on attaching the pleated panel to Jack's jacket, little by little. I am nearly through the most difficult part in the middle of the sleeve where I have to stick my whole arm into the sleeve from both directions just to move the needle through the fabric. My experience with the first sleeve was that the last stretch went much faster once I got past that annoying section. Hopefully I can finish the whole thing in the next day or two.

I've been thinking a bit about how I might be able to cover the buckle of my belt and the lacings of my Doc Martens, but it really depends on how much time (and hand strength, after all the hand-sewing) I have left when the vest and the jacket are done. As I write this, Wednesday is winding down, and we'll be wearing these outfits on Tuesday next week, so the sooner I can get the big pieces finished up, the better.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

Taglist:

@bepo-is-sorry @fuckthatfeeling@anythingandeverythingmarvel@bucky-fanfiction @blondekel77@kaneki-fuentes @vxidnik@antboyandbumbblebee @lokis-queen05@you-like-this-chain@hiei1300 @lilypalmer1987 @andiyholly@elevenismysweetie@uwu-sebastianstan @seasidespecter @you-like-this-chain @your-pixels-are-showing @wildefire @elfprincess81@escapetheshackles@jellyfishflowers @look-to-the-stars-and-wish@bucky-to-my-barnes @tarithenurse @chennyetomlinson @kenzie-cold-greenkale@jaylarkson @doa1518 @wtfholland @thisgirllikeme@awesome-fangirl-334 @pvnk-bivch @chipilerendi @mandei355@buckybonky@commissioner23 @remember-padfood @chibiyanai@lost-and-wandering-alone @outcastedghost @cautrida@inumorph@meyoko10 @stargurl16 @trashyemonerd@slutforbuckybarnes@tinytravisty @unknownuserhasjoined@otaku-tater@hiddlestoner3059 @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981@lust-for-pan@fruityflies @iamburdened @death-beetles@shaunamart @fire-in-her-veinz @red-writer13 @libbymouse@lokiscure @i-am-always-famished @alexa4444 @4-a-m @indica-witch @lou-makes-me-strong @phasma-trash @hiddlestoner3059@rocknroll-is-thewaytogo @purpstraw @lovelyangelofasgard@elevenismysweetie@orighami @trashkidsblog @the-resident-demon @littlemartiangurl@thelowkeylokifanblog @za24ever@trubluepensfan @chibiyanai@dsakita @lady-loki-ren@caticorndancingonpainbows @loving-life-my-way@crappyimagines @a-kiddo-with-a-doggo @elwyn7@celestiacq@amor67figment-love @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981@sweetpeaismylifenow @stanmarvelcu@thewordsinthesky@larryopium @hiei1300 @janepetersonxxx​ @untoldshortsofthefandoms​ @lokis-queen05​ @saxgirl21​ @limedane21​ @sparkling-gayyy​ @lokiscure​ @getdowntothatfunkysound​ @emyhonny​ @randomfandompenguin​ @marvel-madness @dyanlzbb @inumorph @gian-giannina@chipilerendi @pseudonymfox @neptinite-writings @cautrida@kaneki-fuentes @exhaustedcommonsense @theicecreamhero@killerbumblebee @tarithenurse @sgtbucharest @lokis-helmet@wonderlandteaparty @sweetpeaismylifenow @bionicbishop @red-writer13 @bloodiedskirtts @boohooiamthefool @jackstrenchcoat@chipilerendi @sleeplessnight-pointlessfights @welcomingpayne@crimefightingspiderguy @longlivethereaper @a-wanna-be-emo@lokidoki-e @holy-loki @slutforbuckybarnes @mandei355​ @morefics2read​ @otaku-tater​ @khatrinaarts​ @grincheveryday​ @jessiejunebug​ @youtxbemusic​ @marvel-madness​

If you want to get on the taglist (or deleted from lmao) feel free to ask! ♡

Feedback is always appreciated!

[asphyxheart]

The night of the 30th of August

Back to real stuff with that story. The 30th of August is the night I tried to die and nearly managed to do it. I will give more details in the following text. But first, I need to say that I need to speak about it. It’s not something poeple asked me, this is not to draw attention like some poeple said in my dms or whatever stupid random thing you could think off. I write, and if poeple react, eh, why not, bur really I don’t care if you enjoy or not. That being said, let’s start the story in itself.

 When I loaded the crossbow this night, I had no idea I was about to shot myself. Sure, I unlocked the safety so if I ever pull the trigger, it would shots, but I did it automatically. I made some pushes and breathold to make my heart pound and find the good spot to put the tip of the nail I was about to shot in my heart. Once I found the spot, I placed the crossbow and put a finger on the trigger.

At that moment, it was lost. I had no more coherent thoughts, just a whirling wind of abstract and delusive thinkings. Worthless. Live ? but why. Death was appealing. Very seductive. Why live why live why live. I am useless. Useless again and again. Why living. Death. I want to die. Not live. Those are the only thing I remember, but I stood there for a solid 15 minutes with that crossbow aimed at my heart. I was completly lost in my mind, confused at such a point I couldn’t even remember where I was, who I was, what I was doing. I was nothing at that moment. Pure incoherent thoughts.

Then I shot. As easy as that, I pulled the trigger. The shock of the nail entering my body woke me up and I realised that I eventually might have done something stupid. Note that I still don’t regret having tried to die, I only regret having panicked and called the emergencies. So, after I woke up from that…narcosis of thoughts, I called emergencies because…well, I was dying, and my survival instinct, curse on it, made me call the 144 (Swiss emergency number).

It is hard to describe how it feels to have a nail in the heart and lung. It felt like a punch, then no more pain for some minutes, just a disturbance where the nail was because it was moving. It was a like having a needle in the skin, but bigger obviously, and a little bit burning. No blood was spurting out, I wasn’t shouting in pain or begging for my life as some poeple asked me in my dm, I was “just“ in shock, so most of the physical pain signals were blocked because of the massive adrenaline release.

I also called the guard service of my company. Us Swiss need to serve yearly in the military duty, and I was in the middle of my yearly duty service. I called them to say I will not be able to come the next day because I had a pretty bad accident.

After that second call that felt very important to me at that particular moment, I went in my living room and waited the emergencies. The doctor of the village I live in arrived first and began to take my blood pressure and ECG, stething me and even if things were going a bit grey, I saw he was concerned. The nail was moving at each beat of my heart. I remember the bpm, that was of 32. Then I closed my eyes but stayed counscious. It was hard to keep the eyes open. It was damn hard to breath too. My pierced lung had accumulated some air in the pleural cavity and was slowly crushing my lung, pushing my heart and misplacing the rest of my internal organs. It became more evident in the ambulance (I’ll speak of that later).

The ambulance arrived and I walked to the bed they had prepared for me. It was hard to walk too, because it made the nail move and the pain was beginning to come back.  I remember they injected something in me to help my heart beat and put me under oxygen, with the mask. Truly, you don’t know how needed those mask are until you are in need of one yourself. It helped me a lot with breathing but I still had a very bad breathing. The ambulance began its travel and drived fast to the CHUV, because it was the only hospital in my department that had the correct equipement. It was approximately 120km away from my home. But as it was 2-3am, no one was on the road so the ambulance travelled very fast. I remember…a lot from that ambulance, including when they needed to stop because breathing was impossible for me. The pneumothorax turned to be an acute pneumothorax and was beginning to push my heart and crush the right lung. They stopped the ambulance and pierced the pneumothorax. The sound, I will remember all my life I think. Pshhhhhhhh. Under pressure gas, really. Because…air was under pressure in my chest actually, and gas in the chest cavity is pretty bad usually.

Anyway, they drained the air and I could breath again. I heard some words but didn’t paid attention to them as they were not directed to me. I remember “very visible jugular“ words, that’s all. The ambulance travelled to the hospital and we arrived at the CHUV.

The CHUV is one of the biggest Swiss hospital. I arrived at the emergency department and at least 30 poeple were waiting there. Well, maybe not 30, but for how numb I was, that felt like a litteral crowd. I remember having thought “all those poeple for me ? but no, don’t, it’s not worth. Go to sleep“. Then they cut my pant with scissors, placed green sheets over my chest and began to sedate me I suppose ? I don’t remember. I do remember the bright flash light when the bed was pushed to the operating room, then I passed out. I don’t know if it was because of cardiac tamponad (the surgeon that operated me said I was very close to death when he opened me) or because of the ketamin they used to sedate me. They told me it was ketamin. No idea actually, I just trust my doctors about everything.

Anyway, the bright light, then the darkness.

And I woke up.

I fucking woke up.

My first words, once they removed the intubation tube to make me breath, were “and shit“.

I was sore, the same soreness as if you had pushed your body to its limit during a sport session and didn’t do the stretching. Everywhere was hurting, breathing was agony. My breathing volume was so low (they gave me that tuby tube thing to breath in to train again my lung to breath alone, I’ll send a pic if I can find it again). Moving my hand was sending pain in my chest, moving my head, moving my legs. Pain.

I got the visit of the psy who asked me straight away why I did that. I answered I wanted to die and still wanted to. I kinda still want too nowadays, but I’ll speak of that later. I got his visit 4-5 times for the week I was in hospital. I spent 3 days in ICU, 2 days in…“soins continus“ and 2-3 days in normal room. The time after I woke up meant nothing, I was completly disconnected and didn’t care about anything. To me it just felt like another failure, but this one like the ultaimate failure. I got the complete opposite of what I initially wanted.

It is a very strange feeling to have a breastbone in 2 pieces and not in one solid piece. I felt very vulnerable. And weak, so weak. That’s normal after such a big operation and long sedation, but still. My chest was smooth and tender, if a book was laid on it I felt it would make a hole.

Days at hospital could have been annoying, but to me, it wasn’t. I slept a lot, get drugged a lot (for painkiller), slept because of painkiller, then ate my food (one hour for a biscuit, otherwise I threw up), then slept again. Some visits, the psy, the police, my captain. My family. When i was physically better they put me in psychiatric hospital for a week and a half, then I went home. And that’s it. What happened during the night of the 30th of August.

But no death, not this time. Another time, maybe. Or not. I don’t know. For my mental state right now as I write this story, it is half half. I half want to die and half want to live. I take my medecine and go to every appointement with my psy. I think  it’s helping ? In another hand I just think it’s a waste of time and they should focus on other poeple because I am not worth it. I know it’s depression that makes thought like that and that I should take distance from those, but it’s hard, very hard. Death is still pretty appealing and I uncounsciously look for another safe way of dying, but at the same time I don’t want to. See ? hard to explain, and severe ambivalence. Screw me.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 73

~*~Sebastian~*~

The group of us walked the edge of the room to the stairs. Bar tables were in a line and following the other's lead I helped push them against the wall, leaving an open area for us to stand. Emma led me to stand up front with Angie right as the house lights went out. Kirk came running and I moved behind Emma to give him room. Put me in a better position to feel up Emma anyway.

A bank of speakers over the stage was on the level and aimed right at us. My ears would be ringing all night. Nothing would beat the acoustic living room show from a few weeks ago. Still, the music and energy were fun. I was sucked in, like everyone else. Unlike with volleyball, Emma didn't ignore me. While I was behind her I ran an occasional hand over her hip. Each time Emma would do something: reach behind to lay a hand on my leg, turn her head to kiss me, or lean back into me. Several songs in the music slowed. I invaded Emma's personal space, moving up on her, and wrapping an arm around her my hand was seated on her ribcage, my thumb stroking the underside of her breast. My other hand held onto her hip, keeping her close where the pressure from her relieved a little of the ache in my jeans. She cupped the back of my head and turned to nuzzle against my neck. We stayed close and moved to the beat. The feel and smell of her did things to me.

When the tempo picked up again Emma turned to the side and pulled me between her and Angie. I stayed a half step back so they could talk and react together, but I was included. There were songs they had choreography too. Not the band, Emma, Angie, and Kirk. I played along as best I could, more than once we fell together laughing. The shot of tequila layered with the edible had me happily baked. Not enough tequila to be drunk or knock down the high. This was a good buzz I wanted to maintain. I drank half of Emma’s tequila, afraid her lower body mass would make it too much and she'd get sleepy. I'm sure she has experience with what she can mix, but I'm confident my knowledge is better.

By the end, I felt like I was herding cats. Emma, Angie and Kirk being the cats. Nobody was functioning optimally, but at least I didn’t have the same level of emotional attachment to the stage. My attachment was next to me and I kept the three in front of me. We screamed the loudest when Eli’s part was over.

I leaned close to Emma’s ear to ask what happened next. She led me to the edge closest to stage and pointed. “Everyone will pack up their shit fast as they can and stow it in the corner, then head to the dressing room to cool down, wipe the sweat away, and likely have another joint while Keaton sets up. When the lights go down Eli and all will join us up here. Angie and Kirk will go backstage to meet their husbands."

I raised my eyebrows, "Are we?"

"We can or we can stay up here where it's relatively empty."

I looked around at all the people, "Lots up here."

She scrunched up her nose and shook her head no, "Not on our side. I’d rather stay here. Unless you need a hit."

I shook my head, “I'm good.” I lowered my head and got close "You ok. I don't know how long it’s been or your tolerance. You level?"

Her head bobbed, "I gotta tell you, these nights with just friends and the music. This is when I want cocaine. The boost it gives."

"I bet Keaton has some in his little bag." I snickered. I was sure he did.

"I don't think so. I don't want the crash tomorrow. I'd rather see what we get into." She met my eyes, "You being horny and all.”

She really had no idea what was going on with me right now. Very very bad thoughts that covered everything and I mean everything. I have no idea where I’m going to land. Aggressive, romantic, pleading. Any combination and anywhere in between.  "Coke makes me loud and overly friendly. Worst of all it makes me sweat. Look at pics and you can tell when I’m doing coke. So I don't. Rarely. Special occasions."

True to what Emma had said, Kirk and Angie took off as soon as the crowd noise died down a little. They would have had to fight through the sea of people if they left before the music ended. Everyone with Keaton’s group left too.  I looked around us and found, um, no one. Talk about feeling exposed. We were in a roped off side of a U. Alone, but the other three sides were crowded. Being high doesn’t generally make me paranoid, but the two of us standing in an open pasture was making my Spidey senses tingle. I pushed her back closer to the wall, using my body to block her. If anyone was paying attention to us all they’d see was my back. I was banking on being far enough in the shadows. I was pretty sure this good idea wouldn’t seem so good tomorrow when I was sober, but right now it was brilliant.

Emma sat her hands on my hips. I could barely feel them. I like that. I like the way her touch can be this barely there pressure. My body seems to register it differently. The light touch makes more nerves fire. There’s more of a psychological part. It’s intimate. Her hands on me are the only part of us touching. I can’t touch her. I want to, but I can’t. I’m not in control.

While everyone who saw her in this dress knew her every curve, my knowledge was more detailed. I risked giving myself a taste and bent to kiss her bare shoulder. “What’s Keaton’s band like?”

Her thumb moved on my side. “They’re more eclectic. They’ve been together a long time and their sound has evolved. They opened for some big names on big tours and made the jump to headliner. Things fell apart while they were doing their next CD. The concessions the record company wanted were too much. Keaton wouldn’t give up the control. They decided they’d rather stay doing their music their way. They tour a lot and have a very devoted fan base. There’s a mix of rock and indie stuff. Keaton’s lyrics are amazing and he is crazy passionate. He writes him. It’s all personal. And a big chunk is Mia.”

I nodded, still trying to ignore her thumb. “I like him. Before the show . . . there’s something about him.”

“He’s a good guy.”

Jealousy flared. Not real, the fake bullshit kind.

Emma laughed, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I laughed too. No idea what about.

“That pretend jealous look on your face. Don’t make me prove why you’re a good guy. It’ll start with words and end up my hand in your pants.”

“Ooof.” I looked behind us, just to check that there were people around. Dammit. I laid my forehead against hers. “You realize this is the first time we’ve been alone since we got here and you went shopping. We haven’t been alone since we left your place almost twelve hours ago.” That sounded much more desperate when said out loud than it had in my head.

She giggled at me.  I deserved it. “I wouldn’t say we’re alone, Bastian.”

“More or less. I need to talk to you about something important.” I tried my best to keep a straight face. Unclear if I succeeded. “Your dress.”

Emma pressed her shoulders into the wall, pushing her hips forward. “Is this not the one you wanted me to wear?”

“It most certainly is the one I wanted you to wear.” I didn’t move, my hips keeping her from stretching out more. “It’s better than imagined. But I have problems.”

“I can tell.”

I bet she could with her hips pressed into mine. “You look amazing. Every time I look at you I can’t help but think about all the things no one but me can see.” Her eyebrow lifted and her head tilted a little.

"Even when you're not smiling, I can see the dimple in your left cheek." Almost instantly she smiled. I kissed her dimple. "Right there.” I looked down at her breasts, “The black hides them, but I can see your nipples perfectly." I touched her side under her ribs. "Three freckles here and one under the curve of your ass. From the pool picture I know your twin doesn't have one, so I'll always be able to tell you apart. Don't get me started about what you hide between your legs." I traced the collar of fabric at her neck. "This is what I knew would drive me crazy all night, because this is the only place I could get away with kissing. I love kissing your neck as much as you do. How easy is it to get off?"

"Two buttons with elastic loops."

Sounded like more fine motor control than I was likely to have. "Can I rip it?"

Her eyes went wide, "No!" She started laughing and hugged me. Her laughter went on and became contagious, infecting me. Emma pushed my shoulders, looked at my face, and kept on laughing. My seduction was not going as planned. Emma patted my face, "Sebastian, I love you and want you more than anything. But right now, I'm too stoned for that seriousness."

I yelled, "Fuck!" and we started laughing again. "I worked really really hard." I buried my face against her neck, pulling at the collar with my teeth, then running my tongue around the shell of her ear. Emma squirmed away laughing. I glared at her playfully and huffed out a breath, "Horny."

"My poor baby." Emma whispered against my mouth, "Don't worry. You'll get laid tonight." She kissed me before sucking on my bottom lip.

I said, "Yay." Best as I could with her attached to my lip. I wonder if it’s too soon to leave? It is. I know it is. I don’t really want to leave. I’m having too much fun.

We stayed pressed against the wall laughing and kissing until Eli was beside us, his arms went around both of us. "Are you having sex?" He looked down between our bodies.

I blew a raspberry, "No ", and pulled my hips back to prove it. We most definitely were not connected.

"Because it looks like you're having sex against the wall."

The three of us started laughing. I looked at Eli with a smug expression, "This is your show. Do you really think I would fuck your best friend into the wall at your show?"

Emma punched the hell out of my arm.

"Ouch, Why did you... oh shit." I'd said the four letter word that begins with W.

Luckily Eli was looking at me, his eyes narrowed. "Yes. I think you would if you were pretty sure you wouldn't get caught."

My face went blank, "You're not wrong."

Mia came zipping by and grabbed Emma's arm, "Come with me." Angie was with her and the three women moved to the railing.

Eli and I watched them go then turned to each other with a shrug. We'd been deserted. I hugged him, "I like you, Eli. You're right about a lot of things." I kept my arm around him. “You were right about the wall thing tonight. You were right about her parents being asses."

Eli put his hand on my shoulder and his face was serious, "My friend, I would not lie about her parents. They do not have Emma's best interests. We... you, me, and Ed. Don't trust them." He poked me in my chest. "Protect her."

I put my hand over his mouth, "No more words. Last time we were drunk together we got in trouble."

Eli laughed, "No shit. You went and told her everything."

"Was it a test?" That had crossed my mind many times. Had Eli told me to keep a secret from Emma to see if I would?

"You're giving me too much credit. I was drunk and talking out of my ass." He held up a finger, "Had it been a test, you would have passed."

We've entered the "I love you, man." part of the night. "You're a good friend, Eli."

He inclined his head, "And you're a good boyfriend, Seb."

The house lights went down and the music started. Watching Emma, Mia, and Angie hang onto each other was what I imagined partners at a concert being like. They'd been on tour together and been through good and bad times together. I felt that connection with other actors on set, but this was different. This was the behind the scenes support system. Not just support to their “famous” partner, but support to each other. I didn't know this, but I wanted it. I wanted Emma on a set or an event with me, there for me but also with friends behind the scenes. This felt like family.

Eli and I pulled a table from the wall and sat. Boone, Travis, and Dan joined us. Kirk went up with the  support group. I felt part of the group, not an outsider. They'd taken me in as they'd taken in Emma years ago. I wanted this.

I didn't understand Emma's explanation of the differences between Keaton and Eli’s music. Maybe she wasn't clear and maybe I just didn't understand. A couple of songs in I did. At the party, I'd been blown away by Eli’s voice and expression. He could sing anything. Tonight, had been mostly original music, and while good, it lacked the emotional connection for me. The most honest reason would be the songwriting wasn't consistently as strong. They were good, but lacking that something that made them great.

Keaton was great. He had the confidence, command of the stage, and over the audience that Eli just didn’t have. Music and lyrics were next level too. I don’t know the words to explain. It was the difference between an A and B list actor. There’s something more than just talent that feeds the higher level. Keaton had it. He should be out there in stadiums and the top ten on Spotify. I understand how he didn't want to sell himself to get to the next level. I'm not sure if I'm willing to do that either.

Remembering what Emma said about Keaton writing his life and a lot of Mia, I paid close attention to lyrics. I loved them too. I could see what he was writing, feel it. After the song about her dad telling him stay away, I crept up behind Emma, hugging her from behind and kissing her shoulder to get her attention. I didn’t think Ed would try to chase me off, but the song had resonated  because she has a protective dad. When Emma turned her head toward me, I kissed her and made sure she was watching when I mouthed, "I love you." She did the same. We kissed again and I went back to the table.

For the encore, I returned to Emma. I stayed just behind her with a hand on her ass. I'd heard the final song, a strong guitar driven song about sex at the end of the world. Pretty sure I had it on a playlist somewhere. It wasn’t over when Mia grabbed my hand and I grabbed Emma. Mia led us to the backstage area. Not surprisingly she knew exactly when to leave to beat Keaton backstage. Can't say I wasn't happy to avoid going in the opposite direction of the crowd.

Keaton was the first one through the door. He immediately went to Mia for a short and breathless kiss before leading her to the couch. Mia sat at the end, Keaton laid down with his head in her lap, and Mia combed her fingers through his hair. He looked tired, but with her touch, he relaxed. I smiled and nodded in their direction, "What's the story there?"

Kevin had heard, "Aftershow ritual since they were sixteen."

"They've been together since they were sixteen?"

Kevin said, "Yes."

Keaton yelled, "No."

I cut my eyes toward the couch then back to Kevin. He shrugged, heading to the other side of the room. I pulled Emma with me to the couch where I could see the couple.

Keaton opened one eye, "Not really."

"It's a binary choice."

The rest of the room laughed.

Emma moved to the far end of the couch and pushed Keaton's feet off. "I told him you like to tell your story."

Keaton smiled, "I do."

I sat where he pointed and, happily, Emma sat in my lap with her arm around my shoulder, playing in my hair. The rest of the room started talking amongst themselves. They'd heard the story.

"We met in kindergarten. I tried to scare her with a worm."

Mia laughed, "I kick him in the shin and put the worm under a bush."

They traded off telling their story with smiles and laughter.

While they went through school together, they weren’t friends until middle school when Mia tutored his brother in math. Keaton was playing guitar in his room and Mia went to listen. From that night on they were inseparable. They would meet up after cheerleading and guitar practice. His band’s first concert was a New Year’s party in her basement. Keaton taught her to kiss before her first real date and beat the guy up when he was mean to her. Both stuck to the story they weren't a couple even after they chose to lose their virginity together at their prom. They lost touch when Mia went away to college and Keaton stayed in New York to tour and make music. Mia became an architect and was over restoration in her father's firm. They didn't see each other until almost eight years later when Mia's mother died. Keaton helped her pack up her mother's house in the neighborhood in which his parents still lived. After dinner they went to the country club where they spent their summers. Both had been married and divorced. They'd wanted so much more for each other. Neither wanted this new start to end and they exchanged phone numbers. Keaton walked her to the house and what started as a hug lacing many years together turned into a kiss. One they discussed days later and decided to move past.

They kept in touch, talking or texting daily. Keaton had been signed and was touring new music. He had insisted on two nights in Savannah where Mia lived. They stayed with her in the home she’d restored. The boy who haunted her house hadn’t been as accepting of the new people, running the halls, slamming doors, moving things, and turning out lights. After the show, Keaton liked to hang out and meet fans. Mia came over, only to be surprised by her ex-husband and his new wife. Mia had taken Keaton’s hand, hoping he'd follow along. He had and when the ex called her a groupie Keaton explained they’d know each other since elementary school. He took her out on the dance floor, positioning them to make sure he'd see Keaton kissing her like a lover.

They still said they were just friends. When Mia joined them on tour, they’d get drunk after the show and find any reason to make out and make up every reason why it meant nothing. On the last night of a break in Aspen, Mia had emergency surgery. Keaton stayed with her. Something changed in the single room they shared. Mia slept, Keaton played, and when Mia woke Keaton would care for her. Over the years they'd shared many beds, but not like this. This wasn't drunk collapse after a show. This was tender and Mia being safe in his arms with Keaton waking up to her face, laying together talking in a quiet morning.

Keaton went back to tour and wrote a song about falling in love with your best friend. Mia wouldn’t hear it until their ten year high school reunion. When Keaton wasn’t on stage he was with Mia pushing the boundaries of their friendship and testing the waters for more. He held too many scars to make the first step. Mia could. They crossed the friendship line for the last time.

Keaton kissed Mia's engagement and wedding ring, "Six months later we compulsively married after not dating for about twenty years.”

While we'd been talking another joint had made its way around the room. I was feeling giddy. I let out a happy sigh, "That's a fantastic story and a fairytale ending.”  I looked at Emma then back to Keaton, “I think I’m in love."

Keaton smiled, "With more than just Emma?"

"Not more than Emma, but I love your story and the soundtrack you wrote for it. You should get a writer to put it down and sell the movie rights. Hard to beat a good, friends to lover’ story. I’ve started writing. I'll write it. You'll help and do the music."

Emma joined in, smiling at Keaton, "You've left out the best bit."

Keaton's knowing smile asked, "What part would that be, Ms. Vedder."

Emma grinned, "The first song Mia ever heard you play. The one that started it all.”

Mia took Emma's hand, "Pearl Jam, Black."

Keaton starting laughing, "I will never forget the first time I met you."

I clapped my hands, rubbing them together in front of Emma, "Alright, let's hear this!"

Emma stood up, "I'm going over there." She pointed somewhere I couldn't see and walked away.

I watched her walk away with a smile on my face before turning my attention back to Keaton. "Where were we?"

The three of us laughed. Keaton remembered. "We were playing a club in Seattle and Ed came to check us out for the opening gig job. I was so anxious I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sing. I was expecting Eddie fucking Vedder. Larger than life rock god."  He put his hand on his chest while he laughed. “Then this dad guy showed up with Emma. I thought I was going to have to call child protection services. He never took his arm from around her and she looked terrified"

"How long had she been in Seattle?" I was assuming they knew at least that part of the story. Since they were kind of there and Ed had trust Keaton with her.

Mia made a face, "Maybe two days.”

Keaton picked back up, "Thank fuck he introduced her as his daughter and I didn't have to report him for child trafficking. She was sixteen, but looked like a homeless thirteen-year-old."

That got me laughing, "I looked like a homeless drug addict when we met."

Mia snorted, "I doubt it, but ok."

I didn't want to talk about me. I waved Keaton on. He smiled, "She was a completely different girl the next summer. Confident. Beautiful." He cringed, "Seventeen."

I winced, "Best not to think about."

He nodded, "That whole tour Ed didn't let her out of his sight."

Mia shoved her husband, "Because of pervs like you looking at his almost eighteen-year-old daughter. It was sweet. Ed was very sweet with her." She got off the couch and headed over to where my Emma was.

Keaton yelled after her, "I was a perv when you fell in love with me.”

Mia spoke over her shoulder, "I have questionable taste in men."

Kevin dropped onto the space Mia had left, "She's right." Keaton shoved him over onto me. "Just because you shove me doesn't make me wrong. Who are you perving on?"

Keaton rolled his eyes, "No one."

I shoved Kevin off me, "We were avoiding perving on my girlfriend"

"Why?" Kevin pointed to her, "Look at her."

"The night we met her," Keaton said in a dead tone.

Kevin hissed in a breath through clenched teeth, "Oh, no. She looked like she'd just gotten out of rehab."

I snickered, "Because she had just gotten out of rehab."

"There is that."

We sat talking and laughing until my face and sides ached, reaching the point where we switched from laughter to leftover quiet snickering. I looked around to find Emma. I felt my eyes crinkle as my head tilted to the side.

The other two said, "What?" simultaneously.

I pursed my lips and held a finger out," Do either of you see panty lines?" I didn’t wait for an answer, "I don't think she has on panties."

"Surely," Keaton began, "this isn't a new experience for you."

"No, but I'm very high and very horny."

[ghost-writing]

The Monster 2/?? - August Walker fanfic

This is a re-post from my other blog... I’ve decided to post my writing on a separate page, it’ll be easier to access like that.

I’ve edited this a little, but there might still be some spelling mistakes & grammatical errors. (English is not my 1st language!) So, if you see something that irks you, please tell me! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART TWO - Breaking

Word count: 3.2k  (The bit below the 2nd gif was labeled “part 2.2″, and titled “Interlude at the office”, but it’s quite short, so I decided to not make it separate anymore.)

Warnings: Sex (unprotected), rough sex, a certain dose of violence (including light choking), SMUT, swearing and bad language. And August Walker. (The Kingstache deserves its own warning.) And it’s probably full of typos and redundancies.

Part one can be found here!

He texted her around midnight. He had tried to not give in, resisted for almost a week, but he needed to let some steam off tonight. And he thought he liked her, which was angering him even more. She was a good investigator: smart, could think outside the box, and did not take shit from anyone, not even him. He used to like that about Sloane: she commanded respect. She did not deserve it, though. He did not know yet if Annie Franken did, he had not scratched under the surface enough. But after the month he had spent here in Brussels, he could say that he almost enjoyed working with her. At the very least, she made this dull case more acceptable. He had been offended when Sloane had given him the assignment. He felt it was an insult to his previous accomplishments. And the case would last months. At least, he’d get to travel around Europe. And since that night, he thought she was another perk.

Less than five minutes into his first meeting with the captain, he had requested to see the whole team’s files. He wanted to know exactly who he was working with, especially as it was his first time working with the Nexus. The man in charge had refused, but he went higher to get them, and he got them. Detective Franken’s dossier was heavier than the others, almost as thick as the captain’s. Apart from the chief, she had been there longer than everyone on that team, which was why she was in charge, and his direct liaison officer.

She had been in a little more trouble than the others, too. Nothing important: some insubordination (from what the redacted report seemed to say, she had been right, and her senior officer got fired shortly afterwards), and a one-time misconduct while handling a criminal in her care (he was lucky to still be alive, but he had it coming). He smiled thinking about the pics of Denizio, the “victim”: covered in bruises and scratches, a couple of deep bites, a dislocated shoulder, and multiple fractures (nose in two places, left side of his face smashed in, seven ribs, and right ankle). He was impressed: she was a fighter, and a nasty one. He had searched for the video of the incident, but had not got to it yet. He didn’t doubt that the evidence had been deliberately lost, to avoid her too much trouble.

The file also contained a lot of praise: from her former chief in the federal police, and her current one. Thinking back of his first meeting with the man, all these compliments, the twinkle in his eyes: the captain admired her, maybe even had a crush on her. August understood the appeal: good at her job, and a nice rack. Maybe too virtuous, at first sight, but he could smell that there was something hidden under the surface of that porcelain skin. Something wicked. He could see it as clearly as his own darkness.

So he stole her psych evaluations, and got disappointed when he read them. All pristine. Not in an obvious, “I’ll tell them what they need to ear” way. She admitted some problems, discomfort, insomnia, anxiety even. But she had a degree in psychology and criminology: she could’ve been faking it. He listened to the tapes: she sounded genuine. Articulate, but still confused by her feelings and reactions at times. Not the reactions of a control freak, just someone genuinely trying to understand herself, and better herself. He particularly disliked the way she was bouncing ideas off the shrink, as if he had been a wall to play against. No, actually, it’s the guy he hated. He either talked too much, or didn’t ask the right questions, the ones he would’ve asked her. And she seemed to like that bespectacled poster boy of blandness. He thought for a moment that they had fucked in his office, but after a really quick check, he found out the man was a closeted gay.

And so, an hour ago, he parked his car in front of her building, trying to calm down after Sloane’s phone call, a fire burning low inside him. He texted: “Are you at your place? Can be there in 10.” He knew she was in: shortly after his arrival, she got out on the balcony, sipping a drink, looking at the horizon, stretching her limbs, trying to unwind after a long day. The answer he got ignited something else in him. “Sure.” Not yes: sure. Sure, you can come over and fuck me. Sure, I’m waiting for you, CIA. Sure. He was panting, raging. He tried to steady his breathing, which took some time. He gripped the wheel tight, his knuckles turning white. Concentrating on the air filling his lungs, then escaping, slowly. Better. Blank face, blank mind, the August Walker way. Never give too much, to anyone. So tonight, he was going to take. And he made himself a promise.“If she has changed from that black t-shirt and sweatpants from earlier, I’ll take everything I want.” He too needed to unwind.

He got out of the car, slowly making his way to the 3rd floor apartment, still breathing in patterns, not to snap too quickly with the pretty doll upstairs. He knocked, looking at the floor. Seconds stretched, and she finally opened the door. She was barefoot, naked legs, dark red satin starting a few inches above her knees. A short kimono, belt knotted tightly around her waist, modestly covering her ample breasts. Sexy, not slutty. He felt his cock twitch. She still sported the same ponytail she had earlier, but she looked younger than at work. Probably the absence of the constantly furrowed brow, which was a common look in those offices, anywhere around the world.

Pushing past her, he entered without a hello. He heard her protest: “I did not invite you in!”, and made his way into the living room.

“I am not a vampire, I don’t need your invitation.” Thinking to himself “What you are wearing is one, anyway.” He heard the door close.

“Yeah, you give more of a werewolf vibe, actually…” His cock twitched again. He turned to face her, menacingly backing her against the wall. “Doll, you have NO IDEA”, he thought.

He towered over her, a nasty look on his face. He was so close she could probably feel the warmth of his chest, though they were not touching yet.

“Don’t you like a wild beast?” He breathed her scent deeply. “Damn, you smell nice, doll!”

“Do I look like a poodle lady?”, she jested.

And all hell broke lose inside of him: he slammed his body into hers, pinning her against the wall, making her gasp from the physical shock. He grabbed her wrist in his left hand, and opened the kimono with the right: she was wearing a dark red satin balconnet bra that barely covered her breasts. He grabbed her ass: a thong. All assorted to the robe. “Something for guests.”

She was pushing her hips towards him: he growled, less than an inch from her mouth now, but instead of kissing her like she wanted him to, he bit her throat and sucked viciously. She yelped : the thought that this man could hurt her, or break her in two with ease, crossed her mind, but she was still aroused. And she could feel that he was too. She could feel his heart beating in his chest. The thought of August Walker having a heart made her chuckle, and he growled some more as a response to her silent joke. She ran her free hand in his hair and, wanting to kiss him, she grabbed him to make him move towards her face. But he snatched her wrist, brought both her arms above her head and held them secure in his gigantic left paw, still nibbling on her throat. He unbuckled his pants with his right hand, undid the zipper, moving away from her just enough to look at her heaving chest, moving up and down rapidly with desire. Her nipples were peaking out of the satin, now, hard as rocks.

He brutally yanked her thong, and she felt the elastic band clap on her hip. She almost told him that those cost a lot of money, but decided it was wisest to just go with the flow, right now. She got distracted almost immediately anyway: he took his cock out and penetrated her without holding back. As she was dripping with anticipation (she had been since receiving the text, to be honest, running to the bedroom to change out of her comfortable sweats, into something more appropriate for a booty call), he slid his entire length inside her with ease, up to the hilt, and stayed still for a few seconds, looking hungrily at her round tits, biting his lips at the sight of her exposed nipples. He let go of her wrists, leaving them tingling with the sensation of blood circulating again in her veins, and pushed the satin robe off her shoulders and arms. She let it slide off her, feeling it brushing the back of her legs as it fell to the floor.

Suddenly, he pushed the vase and the decorative bowl that were placed on the sideboard next to them, sending them crashing down, and lifted her with his other arm to sit her on the wooden piece of furniture, still inside her. He then planted both his hands on the wall, on each side of her head, framing her, leaning in, his forehead touching hers, pushing her shoulders closer against the cold surface, and he started moving his hips, back and forth, between her thighs, wide open for him, increasing the speed every few thrusts. She moaned louder, and tried to grab his shirt to open it.

“Don’t.”

That one syllable made her blood freeze, and she took her hands off him, grabbing the edge of the sideboard outside of her legs instead. He was grunting like an animal, a huge bear completely enveloping her with his frame. She had always liked big guys, she liked feeling small in their arms and under them. She didn’t need a man to protect her; it was more about being shielded from the outside world for a moment, forgetting everything but the man fucking her senseless. And this large grizzly was very good at that, even if he was rough. She liked rough. She preferred a bit of pain than feel nothing at all.

But the bear man was inflicting more than a little pain, now. His eyes were still fixed on her breasts, dark with rage, his thrusts becoming violent. His lips occasionally sucked at her nipples, more often his teeth bit into them, but he was mostly looking at her breathing in and out, slightly smiling when she’d whimper in protest. And as she started to cry a bit louder, a visible grin was adorning his face.

He stopped pumping into her, grabbed her with one arm around her waist, carrying her next to the couch. There, he pulled her off his cock, savoring her gasp, and put her down. Her legs were slightly shaking, but she did not try to hold onto him for balance. She had understood that he was in a foul mood, and did not want to be touched. “Good girl.” But he was still raging, not feeling like calming down, and she would pay the price for it, even if she behaved. But he was sure that she could take it. If she had wanted him to stop, she would’ve fought back, and he’d be in a similar state as that “poor” Denizio guy.

So, instead of feeling sorry for her, he turned her around, bent her over, and parted her legs with his hands, guiding her ankles with a feet. He slapped her ass once, twice, three times. She let a scream escape only with the first blow. He pushed her forward, so that she ended up kneeling on the sofa. But instead of letting her upper chest rest on the back of it, he grabbed the base of her ponytail in his left fist, and yanked, silently ordering her to look at him. And as soon as her eyes met his, he slid his cock back into her, making her moan loudly. He saw fire behind her pupils: she was enjoying this. Thus, he fucked her, hard and fast, into oblivion. And her cries of rapture grew louder and more desperate. He let go of her hair, seizing her elbows instead, pulling her to him, allowing him to go even faster. She came, but it still wasn’t enough for him, so he let go of her arms, and shoved her face in the seat, pushing her back with both hands. She was screaming now, her petite body jerking with each thrust. He slapped her ass some more, leaving big red marks on her pale, soft flesh, and vigorously took hold of her waist, knowing perfectly well he’d leave bruises, feeling pride at the thought.

She felt him withdrawing, turning her around to face him. She was a rag doll in his hands, unable to think for herself. Not once had she fought him, asked him to stop. She thoroughly loved being used by him. He could take whatever he wanted, right now. And he did: he bottomed out into her, making her howl, a throaty wail after her prior screaming, and pinned her down with his hips. His right hand lifted her leg up, allowing him deeper access into her cunt, and his left hand caught her throat. The surprise of his touch made her climax, her whole body shaking, her eyes rolling in her head, her back arching, her walls clenching on him. Thereby, he huffed and puffed as his own orgasm built, and swore profusely as he pulled out of her to come all over her belly and her breasts.

Both out of breath, they looked at each other, panting, completely spent. She saw a light in his eyes, hoped he would just collapse on top of her, and finally kiss her, but in an instant, his expression changed. He got up, tucking himself back in his pants, rearranging his clothes, smoothing his messy hair. And without one last look at her, he got out, his words slapping her face.

“See you at work tomorrow, Franken.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day had been long, just like the rest of the week. She still couldn’t sit down without wincing. She couldn’t sit down at all the first day. And she had to wear a fucking turtleneck to hide the bite marks and the hickeys he had adorned her neck with. Her whole body was covered in bruises, purple finger prints on her wrists and forearms, on her hips, on her ass. She was raging inside, and he was there, working like absolutely nothing happened.

He did not avoid her, they still exchanged about the investigation, they had prepared a necessary trip to London. But it felt different than the week before, the week after that first night. Before, she had noticed his gaze, a furtive smile; once, he even had asked her if she wanted tea. But now, he was distant. Or maybe she simply wanted him to be closer.

She was angry about all the marks left on her, and she definitely would’ve preferred to be able to sit normally, but it was the way he left that hurt the most, and how he acted now. She wasn’t a fuck toy to discard after use. She didn’t want a relationship, she just wanted him to acknowledge her existence in a decent way. Say hello, and kiss her before, during and after making her climax like she hadn’t in a long, long time. She could’ve been nice to him too, reciprocate. Because whatever August Walker tried to pretend he was, deep down, he was human too. Probably. Or maybe he was just a psycho.

She could see some signs: the manipulation, the violence. She wasn’t sure about the lack of remorse or guilt. She felt he was wearing a mask, not just covering up a mistake. Doing what was expected of a cold, calculated man. But she had seen glimpses of humanity in him. He had grabbed a fantasy book left by Simon on his desk, and had smiled as if remembering the first time he had read it. She heard him hum to a song played on the radio while on a stakeout, thinking she was asleep. Not a robot, just a character he was projecting, for protection most probably. She could relate: she had tried that, but could never maintain it for too long. She still joked, she still cared. And she needed to come out for air after keeping a serious face for too long. Just like she could not let him get away with using her like he had, not without saying something.

So tonight, after sending Simon and Niklaas home, she confronted him. He was finishing the cold pizza they had earlier, mumbling about anchovies.

“How did that broom get stuck so high up your arse?”, she asked, a fake incredulous look on her face. He almost chocked on a tiny hairy fish, and he fumed.

“I’d really love to ear that story. Please, tell me how!” She batted her eyelashes, simulating fascination.

“I’m not playing this game with you…” He dropped the slice back in its box.

“No, of course not. I can’t take control of the conversation, that would belittle you, wouldn’t it?”

He remained silent, stood up and walked towards the door. Before he got there, she aimed and fired: “You lost control the other night.”

He stopped in his tracks, turned around.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did. I had zero control, I left it to you, but you lost it anyway. If you had not lost it, you would’ve pretended. You’re a great pretender, Walker, that’s part of your job. But instead, you acted like a little boy who can’t help breaking his toys.”

“There”, she thought. He twitched when she called him a boy, almost catching fire. And right after, a flash in his eyes. Regrets. Just a hint, before snapping back.

“You enjoyed it.”

“I do like it rough, yes. But I don’t like being treated like a cheap whore.” She got on her feet, moved slowly towards him, stopping just an inch from his tall frame. “I’m not cheap in any way.”

Looking down on her, August wrapped his arm around her waist, resting his hand in the small of her back, drawing her closer to him. Almost tenderly, if it wasn’t for the hardening cock in his pants, rubbing lightly against her belly. He breathed in slowly, before what must have felt to him like spilling his guts.

“Let me take you out while we’re in London. For dinner.”

She pushed away from him, moving towards the door.

“No.” She got out of the office. “See you at work tomorrow, Walker.”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 8. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N:  @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory thank you for reblogging! I notice every note and reblog you left me, babez! But I have a seriously hard time responding even to my own gf at the time, bcs I'm in the more depressed mood. Sorry.

Word count: 2 K 

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six  Part seven

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

The big evening finally came. Every one of you was in the backstage, listening to some stand-up comedian. He truly was hilarious.

It was simple - there was a hall full of people who had bought the tickets in pre-order. All of that money went to a charity. Then they could give more money if they wanted to the lady by the ticket station. After every show, the hall cleared out and people with tickets on the next show sat at the tables, ordered some drinks and waited for it to start. Some shows had twenty minutes, but there were other people, who had five minutes lasting shows as you were.

There were even people from the Marina present, those who were voted to take the check from Tony Stark himself as well. And they looked like they had a hella good time.

"I will sit next to you, would you mind?" - Deena said, already sitting down. You scooped a bit further to make some place for her ass. Then the both of you turned your heads to look at the guy performing. You both laughed. There was some singers, some bands, some other Charity workers - there was basically everyone. You even got a bit too excited when you saw Pepper freaking Potts sitting at the table in the back of the hall next to Happy Hogan.

Through the whole evening, you texted with Steve. You told him every of your itsy bitsy feelings and he was so kind that he has listened to you all the time. Meanwhile, girls have done your make-up and your hair, so you looked like a real lady coming straight from the forties.

May's hair was the hardest do make - she had a long, strong hair and she has a hell lot of them, which made it almost impossible to do. Yet she was now standing behind you on her high heels, looking definitely breathtaking.

Y/N: Never realizes that there will be so many people out here! I'm getting pretty nervous, handsome.

Steve: Do not freak out. It is going to be completely fine. We are here out with Bucky and Sam, pouring down some drinks. We are looking forward to your performance, girls. We truly do.

Y/N: Yeah, looking forward to seeing me killing somebody else?

Steve: Stop it. You will be great. And you will not convince me otherwise. And I will be there to see all of it.

That made you smile. Steve was the mental and emotional support to you every step you made and every breath you took, just like in that The Police song. When you felt insecure about you looking fat, Steve reminded you of how blown away he was just with the way you looked in that costume. When you thought that your make-up and your hair is too much, Steve texted back that you'll be beautiful to him no matter how much you'll put on.

He truly was trying to make every one of your little insecurities go away and he was doing a great job.

"He's somewhere out here tonight?" - Deena asked all of a sudden. She and Val took some really sultry sapphic photos before that and you were sure that they'll be used when you'll recap your whole year on the office Christmas party. They both looked sexy as hell, Deena even went so far she had shortened her skirt and wear her super push-up bra to make her cleavage more visible.

"Not at the moment, but he'll be. Yeah." - You nodded with a shy smile of a nervous girl. It was so strange, knowing that Steve will be there, checking out each of your moves with his bros.

You never showed him your face, but daily life pics became a next step between for the two of you. When you were at work, you took a simple headless selfie in the bathroom mirror, at lunch you photographed your food and you also sent him a photo of you in your PJ, doing a routine movie watching with some popcorn and Coke.

Steve, on the other hand, was a serious piece of cake. You drooled and you didn't even realize that your mouth was wet all over from your own saliva.

To say that Steve was buffed as fuck was a serious understatement. He was ripped like a Greek god. Maybe even they were nothing on his body. His usual daily selfie was a mirror one with him having a white, usually sweaty t-shirt and grey work out sweats. There was usually a bottle of water included. Sometimes he snapped a quick picture of him getting ready. Once you even felt your heart-stopping because of the sight of his collar bones and shoulders in a work out tank top.

At that moment, you were ready to call yourself some good ol' ambulance, because your eyes were drowning at that sight. He was a guy with a naturally sweet nature, so huge and ripped and yet somehow he hadn't found a girlfriend to be with. You couldn't comprehend.

Before meeting him on WhatsApp, you didn't believe in fucking miracles - but here he was and he seemed to be into you. You were hella out of your mind.

Yep. You had gotten off because of those pictures. Once or twice. But that was not your fault at all. You were a woman, someone who had their specific needs. That's just how it was. And Steve seriously was someone who even Val found seriously attractive.

Girls from the office were obsessed all over you two - sometimes, Deena and Suzie sang that you're in love and you answered that you're not. Which obviously became a really dramatic I won't say I'm in love from Hercules. But yeah. Just to be honest, you were all over the fucking place bevause of him. Which happened never ever before. And you haven't even met that man at the time. It was really fucking weird. It felt like his face isn't important to you - you knew him. That's what mattered.

"Do you think you'll be able to see him? Like a sixth sense? It would be as exciting as the end of the Titanic." - Deena sighed dreamily. You frowned at that.

"If you think that the death of basically 60% of the passengers was exciting... You do you I guess." - You answered with a strange expression on your face. 

“Hey. You have that sexy hunk just waiting for every word you want to write to him and not each of us has the opportunity to have that. Some of us just develop a simple crush on Leo DiCaprio. Did you even see that little angelic baby in that movie? Jeez.” - Deena giggled. When she started, she was deadly serious, but in the end, she was laughing. 

But she was totally clear about her crush on Leo. She even had a collection of t-shirts with Leos face on it. But she was all truthful - not everyone finds someone like you found Steve. All it took was a couple of coincidences and there you were.

“But it's nice. Men like that remind you that gentlemen are not a dead thing yet, even now.” - She leaned her shoulder into yours, smiling all happily. - “But I am a bit jealous about all of that, not gonna lie.” 

Your head slowly bobbed and you leaned your forehead into khaki green cap masterly pinned into her hair with some pinnets. She was looking all good. 

And she was right per se. Steve was truly something the others could be only possibly jealous of. And you should be really, really glad for him

And your gratefulness was the thing that made you all nervous about him being present while you do a total asshat in front of anybody else. 

The time flew past you without you barely noticing. There were two other performers in the line in front of your office, and at the next moment, May was gripping your elbow and lead you to the moral hooray before you actually went to the stage. She was probably the best motivational speaker you ever heard, those men and women with courses were nothing on May Parker.

“Okay ladies, I am sincerely proud of you for not being afraid and actually doing all of this. I can't even express how happy I am that I found so many amazing women to do something like that with me. You're all looking flawless, pretty and lovely and I know we will nail the choreography because we worked hard almost every evening for the past few months, we will nail it. And now stand up and let's kick the others their asses!” - May yelled cheerfully. Every one of you clapped, those who had the need to express themselves louder, those cheerfully blew a whistle for May. 

You feel a little confident - nothing too much harsh, nothing too big, but at least you felt positive about yourself when you took your chair and walked onto the stage.

---

“Can you feel the tension in the air? Something's coming.” - Sam nudged Bucky's side with his elbow. Bucky just gave him an ice-cold look and took his another beer from Sam's palm. 

Steve made Sam take the tickets from the lady sitting behind the counter with all highschool girl nervousness - he was able to almost kill Sam when he joked about leaving the tickets on the counter. He was super nervous, super curious, almost not able to keep the feelings contained inside. 

Their small group walked into one of the back tables with a clear view - you tried to take the best places which will be basically on the distance of a stretched arm. It was also close to the bar, which was some great news for Sam. 

“Just jokin', Mr. Grumpy. I'm kinda curious about that girl. You plan on showing us or you will keep a secret?” - Sam sat on the other side of Bucky, taking a strong swing of his beer. 

“Probably a secret. It would not be fair for you to know her face before she knows mine.” - Steve giggled and crawled deeper into his hood. He was worse than Natasha when she was on her missions, just tried to keep his identity in secret, but that was extremely hard because of how enormous he was. 

“Like if birdbrain knew what intimacy or privacy is.” - Bucky said with an ironic tone of voice which made Sam frown as hell again. 

“Well excuse me, but I know today's world more than you two will ever have the chance to. Don't try to make me angry, 'cause you can lose your biggest guide just like dat.” - Sam said with all serious face, but every one of them knew that he's shitting them. 

Y/N: Okay, it's here. Wish me luck, cross your fingers, do whatever the hell you want, but enjoy it.

A text came just short second before all the lights turned down and Steve curiously wiggled on his chair with an expression of a small child. And at that moment, a serious load of ladies in forties female formal clothes came out of the curtains with chairs in their hands. And even tho he couldn't see the shirt you had under your uniform, at that moment, he exactly knew which one of them is you.

[piprocrastinator]

A P9 Anon ask~

I had someone ask me about my thoughts on P9 and they gave me some examples of their point of view on the matter.

And just so it’s clear everyone is allowed their opinion and as long as they are not forcing others to agree to! Meaning that if you tell me your opinion nicely I will probably approve because I love hearing opinions and see other people's points of view, it’s a great way to broaden your horizon. Just because I support something that might be opposite to what your support doesn’t mean I don’t welcome your opinion.

If that makes any sense, so thank you Anon!

First, off I’d like to say thank you for one your point of view and the examples, it’s always nice to back up opinions with examples. :D

Second, this is also my opinion but I’m going to try and make it non-bias.

That being said, I think it’s very important to point out a few things. As fans, we only see what they want us to see and even during times where we think that we are seeing something secret or something we’re not supposed to see. You know those videos from events where the person touches the other person and everyone is like ‘ah a secret moment’ and whatnot. It probably is just a random touch that we’ve taken out of context or it’s a purposefully touch to promote them via fanservice. The K-pop industry and the Bl industry (Thai, Taiwanese, and the like) utilize their fans using fanservice to promote themselves. What we think is a secret touch could very well be carefully planned out action.

I’m not going to go any deeper into that right now but it’s something we need to keep in mind as we look at our idols or actors in general. It's something I try to keep in mind while I delusionally ship my ships.

That being said, Pavel is VERY into fanservice. He’s loud brash and the one who really knows what’s up and doesn’t mind hinting at it because he’s a troll and a tease. (And he’s wonderful for all of those reasons so don’t take that the wrong way). Pavel is a man that loves to tease but he also teases each member (of OXQ or 6moons whichever) differently and that’s because each person takes to it differently. Meaning he knows what each person will take as a joke and what they won’t and that’s on friendship.

I think Nine and Pavel have an interesting relationship because much like Ben when they first met they all had English in common so they could communicate secretly without the others knowing and I think now even when most the others members can speak it alright enough to where it’s not really like a secret language anymore it created a different sort of bond between them during filming and then subsequently, their friendship.

NOW FOR SOME ANALYSIS! Because I love this part soooooooo (even if it's not really analysis as much as it is opinion.)

I think Pavel like most people fall for cute things and Nine is cute and small (and very handsome) and like everyone in the world when we see cute things we want to treat those things with kind and gentle hands. Which means his touches toward Nine might be different than let’s say Dome because Dome is cute but he also has bulk and works out with Pavel so he perceives him different and therefore Pavel’s touches towards Dome will be different. This has nothing to do with masculinity or femininity! And everything to do with the types of friendships he has between them. Nine and Pavel and a distinctly softer friendship about them at least from what we can see of them.

Anon mentioned that Pavel makes over the top jokes like that day he went onto the live and was like talking about fertilization and stuff and I can’t find that picture but it’s great but I’m pretty sure that was done with like Dome (or Ben… maybe it was Ben, Yeah I think was... idk) I can’t find the source and I don’t remember…. Sorry. But anyways He doesn’t do that with Nine, most of his crude jokes are for the others. And I think that has to do with the type of friendship that he has with Nine. Whereas the others he’s all for like daddy jokes, and fertilization and moaning and such he really doesn’t do that with Nine and that could be because he jokes differently with Nine because Nine takes jokes differently or has a different sense of humor when it comes to those things or it could be (and this is my J9 dulu sneaking out) It could have to do with Joong.

Actually, Everyone in the fandom knows that Joong gets sulky easy and he’s sensitive to things so regardless for J9 relationship Joong might get sulk depending on how the others joke with Nine because they monitor each other’s amount of skin shown and cursing so it wouldn’t be a far stretch to say that maybe Pavel jokes differently with Nine as to not upset Joong, and that’s about friendship and understanding not about dating and whatnot, to be clear.

Then there was that event where Pavel and Nine body rolled against each other which I don’t have the video of that either and I can’t find either. But that felt like fanservice.

And that time that Nine got angry because Joong and Pavel (and Ben I guess) were snuggling which is a moment that I’m still not really sure how to decipher because you could see it whichever way you like because there is very little context to go with it besides we know that Nine was sulking that day and later didn’t want to include Joong in his Ig story thing with Ben. Buuuuut if you wanted to you could say that Nine was mad at both Pavel and Joong, which would add a moment to the P9 debate.

There was the really scandalous picture Pavel posted of Nine, I mean just look at that thigh.

Which honestly same. If I had an attractive friend and I knew people liked to see pictures of them AND I was Pavel who knows how to stir things up, I would have totally done the same thing. This might be one of the leading things in the P9 argument and it’s valid. There’s a lot of thigh happening. Also if this was some sort of like secret ‘we’re dating’ type of pictures, it’s a good one. It’s like enough to be like they could have totally done something with each other but also vague enough that many people would wave it off like nothing.

I just wanted to put it out there for reasons.

Moving on I think that it’s a bit important to mention the OXQ ship that’s been going around.

There is a VERY VERY high possibility that their company might be trying to push some fanservice in the form of P9 because that’s how they want to be. It could also be some secret thing they have going on. If one were to look at these interacts as like aP9 situation then sure maybe they are just showing more of that side of their relationship. Or maybe it’s just because of placement and based on kpop which I have a feeling is a major influence in this group for many reasons, it is a very common trend for everyone in a group to be shipped with everyone. Regardless if you ship that ship or not. Many companies (I dare say, all of them) promote ships because it sells. So this might be P9 using their proximity in their formation to promote a ship thinking that it will sell….. but I think it’s the companies choice as far as these go.

If nothing else form this I think that Pavel and Nine have a very different relationship than Pavel and Dome do and thus comparing their relationship is really productive in terms of trying to figure out ‘who Pavel may or may not be in a secret relationship with’. I think that Pavel treats Nine differently because their friendship is different. Pavel and Dome are aggressive with each other because that’s how they’re relationship works. They go to the gym together, talk dirty jokes together, call each other daddy, they put of shirtless pictures of each other, and show off each other’s boxers. They just are.

Pavel and Nine's relationship is softer probably to do with the amount of time they spend with each other and from how Pavel views Nine. Nine is smaller than the rest of them and maybe that opens some innate feelings in Pavel to protect because honestly same. But also

Maybe Nine's looks are making him feel the gay feelings. Who knows.

I was thinking when I first saw this that maybe it’s Nine's personality because Nine is moody and gets angry easily. When I saw this I immediately thought that Nine just pics fights with everyone but like accidentally and that’s what he meant. But everyone was taking the unstable as like the gay way.

This was a terrible rant that did nothing and I’m sorry :D but I think that all the boys of the 2moons2 cast have a good relationship with each other and to say that we, the fans, only know a fraction of the details of those relationships would be accurate. We know exactly what they want us to know and nothing else. We can speculate all day about it and we do and I think that’s the great things about ships and idols is that fanservice is a big part of their industry and as long as we know that they are still humans and support them regardless of their ship (and wither they date the person you ship them with or not) then we can ship them with whoever for whatever reason.

IN CONCLUSION, I write too much and get nowhere in life. But I think Pavel and Nine are friends and Pavel likes to tease and flirt and their company might be trying to push out every ship they can to try and attract everyone they can because of money. But I do think there is a very distinct type of love in Pavel's heart for Nine and all the 2moons2 boys.

TLDR; Pavel and Nine are soft together, they probably have a secret bond that may or may not have been formed when they meet and related over English. They are good friends and Pavel likes to tease and he's good at it. I doubt there's anything past that mostly because of this

[ladywinchester1967]

She Will Be Loved

Title: She Will Be Loved

Links: AO3 & WattPad

Square Filled: Friends to Lovers

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags: Feels, fluff, SMUT, angst. Beta’d by @clo-heda but any mistakes are still mine, pics are not.  

Created for: @spnkinkbingo

“Tap on my window, knock on my door I wanna make you feel beautiful.” ~ Maroon 5

Dean Winchester seethed with anger as his friend, Caroline, cried. She couldn't say exactly what was making her so upset, but held her face in her hands as Dean pulled her into a protective hug, resting his chin on top of her head.

“It's okay,” Dean soothed “shhh, just get it out. It's gonna be okay.”

She sobbed into his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. They stood like that for a long time until her tears had subsided and she pulled back.

“I'm sorry, I ruined your afternoon,” she said “and your shirt.”

He shook his head

“I wasn't doing anything.” he lied. He'd been flirting heavily with a local waitress when when he'd gotten a concerning text from Caroline “And, you're more important.” She gave him a sad smile and hugged him again. Once she pulled back, he said “C'mon, we're going for a drive.”

“To where?” she asked

“Anywhere,” he said “let's just get in the car and we'll drive around for a little bit, get your mind off that douche bag Eric and do something. Just the two of us.”

“And get ice cream?” she asked

“If you want to we can.” he said fondly and she nodded.

After a long drive including tons of classic rock sing alongs, a couple of burger joints and two hot fudge sundaes later, Caroline seemed to be more like herself as they pulled back into the bunker's garage.

“See? What'd I tell you?” Dean asked as they got out of the car.

“Dean knows best.” she said with a laugh. He came around to her side of the car and threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her another hug. While not normally a touchy, feely guy, Dean knew Caroline craved touch. She'd never once pulled away when he put an arm around her shoulders or placed his hand over hers. In truth, he liked being close to her, her against him felt like the most natural thing to him. They walked into the bunker this way and then down the hall toward Dean's room.

“I'm gonna go in,” he said “you know where to find me if you need me.”

She bit her lip and then asked

“Can I stay with you? I really don't want to be alone.”

“Yeah, of course you can.” he said and opened the door to his room as they went inside. They separated to get ready for bed and once she was in her pajamas, Caroline made her way back to Dean's room where he was already laying with his back against the headboard. She climbed onto the ridiculously comfortable memory foam mattress and snuggled up close to Dean. With her head on his shoulder and a leg draped over his waist, he wrapped one arm around her shoulder while the other rested on her knee. She listened to the steady beat of his heart for a few seconds and then looked up at him.

“Thank you,” she told him “for today, I really needed that.”

“You're welcome.” he said as their eyes connected. Caroline felt a shift between them in those few seconds. He wasn't looking at her like he normally did, he had more affection and something else in his eyes that she couldn't quite read. Dean's heart was beating harder and harder in his chest as their lips got closer and closer.

“Dean,” she breathed, sending little puffs of air on to his mouth.

“No, I'll stop.” he said an pulled back. She caught him by the back of the head and gently pressed her lips to his. Kissing him was different than she thought it would be. His lips were softer, sweeter than she had imagined. His kiss wasn’t rushed, it was slow and full of passion. He used his entire mouth to kiss in a way that left her panting and wanting more.

When he pulled back, he looked apprehensive.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” He said and got out of bed,

“No, Dean! Wait!” She yelled and went over to him “Please don’t walk away from me.”

“I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry.” He said.

“No, wait.” She said and grabbed his wrist “Don’t clam up, talk to me.”

“I can’t.” He said, biting his kiss swollen lip.

“Yes, you can,” she insisted and squeezed his wrist “this is me we’re talking about remember? You can tell me anything.”

He took a deep breath

“Normally, I can but this?” He asked “I can’t do.”

“Why not?” She asked

He took her left hand and held it up, showing her the ring there.

“That’s why,” he said “because I’m fucking selfish and I’m a coward.”

“Dean Winchester, I never want to hear you say that again,” she snapped “you’re one of the bravest people I know!”

He looked down at his feet, collecting his thoughts as she put a hand to his cheek. She stroked his facial hair as he turned to look up at her, leaning into her touch.

“I’m too scared,” he said “to tell you how I feel.”

Her heart thundered in her chest and blood rushed in her ears.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked.

“That I love you and I can’t do anything about it.” He told her and he braced himself for the slap across the cheek that he felt was going to come but it never did. She stared at him intently and he went on “You’ve been with me through everything; you stayed when no one else did, you comforted me even though I pushed you away. You loved me through my worst times, then you met Eric and you got out of the life. I didn’t realize what we had was special until I didn’t have it any more and I was too scared to admit that I love you.”

It felt like truth bomb after truth bomb was being dropped on her and exploding all around her.

“You?” She asked with tears in her eyes “You love me?”

“I’m sorry,” he said and took her hands “I’m so fucking sorry, I’ve ruined everything.”

“Answer the question.” She said and he looked away again, his jaw clenching. “Dean, answer me before I make a huge mistake.”

He looked her square in the eyes and said

“I love you, with all my heart.”

She nodded as tears fell down her cheeks and he quickly wiped them away.

“Please, I’m sorry.” He apologized over and over as he kissed her forehead.

“Dean,” she said softly and pulled back “I love you too.”

His eyes went wide as he held her face.

“No,” he insisted “you can’t.”

“Why not?” She asked

“You have someone that loves you,” He told her “someone that’s gonna take care of you, buy you nice things, give you a future and a family. I can’t do any of that for you, this life I live, the work I do, is too dangerous. I’m too dangerous, too old and broke for you.”

“Dean,” she sobbed as more tears rolled down her cheeks “You can’t tell me that and expect me to just walk away. You don’t get to decide who I love.”

“What about Eric?” Dean asked

“He,” she paused and bit her lip “he broke it off. The engagement, the relationship, everything. He packed up and he left, saying it was a mistake.”

“What was a mistake?” he asked, shocked.

“Our relationship. The engagement, everything.” she told him “He said he knew I was in love with someone else and there wasn't room for three of us in this relationship.”

“Three?” Dean asked “You mean?”

She nodded and said

“I love you too Dean, I have for a long time. I never said anything because I never wanted to lose you as a friend.”

They kissed passionately, tears lingering on both of their cheeks and melding into one. He stroked her hair while she ran her hands up and down his back, her finger tips pressing into his shoulders.

“Dean please,” She begged “please.”

“What do you want?” He asked with all the sincerity he could muster as he looked at her. He held her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs to brush away her tears.

“You,” She told him “I want you, make love to me please.”

He nodded and kissed her again, his mouth enveloping hers as he backed her up toward the bed. Once the backs of her knees hit the edge of the mattress, Dean slid his hands up her shirt, taking it off and pitching it across the room. She did the same to him, running her hands all over his bare torso as he made her lay on her back, he crawled on top of her and pulled her yoga pants down.

“Are you sure?” He asked as they kissed “Really sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” She breathed “I love you and I want to be with you.”

He bit his lip and nodded

“I want to be with you too,” he said and wrapped her into a searing kiss “more than anything.”

She slid her hands up and down his back, her nails lightly brushing over his skin. He moaned and rutted against her panty clad core as she moaned into his mouth.

“Dean, Dean!” she cried against his mouth and he let out a growl.

“Fuck,” he said “keep moaning my name like that and this’ll be over quick.”

“Can’t help it,” she said with a sheepish grin “you feel so good against me.”

He unhooked her bra and tossed it elsewhere, pressing his chest to hers.

“Like that?” He asked and then snapped his hips into her, making her cry out “or that?”

“Both, fuck!” She cried as she untied his pajama pants. He quickly shed them along with his underwear, throwing them to the ground and she wriggled out of her yoga pants and panties. Naked and vulnerable, she watched as he crawled on top of her again. Their eyes stayed connected as he laced his fingers with hers and pinned them right by her head. She spread her legs to accommodate him and grasped his hands tightly. He gently nudged his way inside her tight channel, making her back arch as she moaned loudly. He let out a hiss as he slid further into her, fighting the urge to fuck her into the mattress until she walked funny for days.

“You okay?” He rasped as he kissed her.

“Yes, fuck-shit-you feels good.” She told him. He filled her in a way she hadn’t been before, deliciously stretching her walls as he pushed all the way inside her. They kissed over and over until she cried out against his mouth.

“Move.” She begged him.

He started with slow, languid thrusts, worried he would hurt her. His hips slowly crashed into hers as she threw her head back.

“Ah, Dean!” She cried and then pulled him flush with her body. He gave in as she started to move her hips too; her warm skin against his felt like it should have been like this all along between them. He gently teased her mouth with his tongue, tracing over her tongue and then pulling back to kiss her hard.

“I love you.” he declared

“I love you too,” she answered as she met his hips thrust for thrust. “so much Dean.”

His steady strokes and the sound of his skin hitting hers made her rise up high, but he was in no rush. He didn't want to stop until she was shaking. He reached between them and pressed his thumb into her swollen mound, he stroked and worked it into a slow, steady circle as she cried out loudly.

“Mh fuck Dean, like that, just like that.” she moaned as she threw her head back.

He bent his head down and latched his mouth around her nipple, making her cry out loudly as his tongue made slow, deliberate circles, making the nipple perk up in his mouth. He switched to the other breast and did the same thing, the sensitive bud hardening in his mouth nearly instantly.

“Oh god, god!” she cried out and dug her nails into his back. He growled, the vibration from his mouth driving her insane. He quickly rolled them over so that she was on top of him. She rolled her hips into him and arched her back as his hands gripped her hips.

“Yeah, like that,” he moaned “fuck you look sexy riding me.”

She had a mischievous glint in her eye as she rolled into him harder, making his grip on her hips tighten.

“Like that?” she asked

“Yes, fuck, like that.” he breathed

“Or like this?” she asked and slammed her hips on top of him. She bounced on top of him and he moaned in appreciation.

“FUCK!” he cried and smacked a hand across her ass, making her cry out “Jesus, like that! Shit!”

“Fuck, do that again!” she cried

He smacked his hand across her other ass cheek and she cried out again.

“Oh my god!” she cried her hands snaking up her body and grabbing her breasts in her hands. She rolled the nipples between her fingers as he watched, moaning.

“Fuck,” he groaned “look at you.”

“You like watching me play?” she asked him

He nodded as she repeated the motions, throwing her head back and crying out. Dean pressed the pad of his thumb into her clit again and worked it in a slow circle as she moaned loudly.

“Oh god, fuck!” she moaned

Watching her was intoxicating, better than any porn he'd ever seen, and she was in love with him. Nothing else seemed to matter beyond that fact, no matter how hot she looked riding him. He snapped up into a sitting position and pulled her close to him with his free arm. He continued to work her clit in slow circles as she spread her hands flat on his back. She kissed him and moaned deeply into his mouth.

“Oh fuck, Dean, fuck you feel so good,” she moaned “I'm gonna come!”

“You like that huh?” he asked as he sped up a little, making her cry out louder “Tell me sweetheart.”

“Fuck, I love that!” she cried as the familiar tingle rose up her spine and she cried out into his mouth.

“Come on sweetheart, come for me.” he said as he reached his own peak, the chord in his stomach tightening hard. She let go first, crying his name loudly and he followed shortly behind her, shooting long, thick ropes deeply into her.

They lay side by side, gently caressing each other as she fought sleep.

“Just go to sleep,” he said quietly “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?” she asked with a yawn.

“I promise,” he said “and when have I ever broken a promise I made you?”

“Never.” she said, her voice full of sleep. He chuckled and gently kissed her forehead, pulling her even closer as he drifted into a peaceful sleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hope you guys enjoyed!!!! Please make sure that you like and share, any kind feedback is deeply loved and appreciated more than you know! Hulk smash that follow button if this is your first time here and you wanna see more content from me. All my boxes and tag lists are open so if you want in, let me know!!

The Squad:

@waywardbaby​​​​ @waywardnerd67​​​​ @familybusinesswritingbro​​​​ @ain-t-bovvered​​​​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​​​​ @unholyqu33n​​​​ @dacleverfox​​​​ @emoryhemsworth​​​​ @bobasheebaby​​​​ @myinconnelly1​​​​ @mogaruke​​​​ @imma-winchester-addict​​​​​ @purpleskiesandcherrypies​​​​ @dean-winchesters-bacon​​​​ @animerose96​​​​​ @drakelover78​​​​​  @roonyxx​​​​​ @snffbeebee​​​​​ @ezilyamuzed​​​​​ @mirandaaustin93​​​​​ @srsllydunnodoncare​​​​​ @latetothewinchesterparty​​​​​ @emilyshurley​​​​​ @atc74​​​​​ @midnightsilverafterdark​​​​​ @adoptdontshoppets​​​​​ @biawol​​​​​  @spaceystacey123​​​​​ @bella-ca​​​​​ @clo-heda​​​​​ @closetspngirl​​​​​ @thekatherinewinchester​​​​​ @maddiepants​​​​​ @idreamofplaid​​​​ @love-those-boys-in-flannel​​​ @flamencodiva​​​ @blueberrykushlovexoxo-blog​ @sandlee44​ @tumbler-tidbits

Dean/ Jensen:

@spnbaby-67​​ @akshi8278​​ @deanscarlett​​​​​ 

[theonyxpath]

LESS THAN THREE DAYS LEFT FOR THE V5 CULTS OF THE BLOOD GODS KICKSTARTER!

It is, in fact, doing fantastic, with over 2200 backers so far. The comments section, knock wood, has been overwhelmingly positive and energized – which really encourages our team to pop in and answer questions and chat a bit.

So, come over and check it out and as a backer you can check out the text that we’ve released to backers so far. Which is most of it. If you disagree with those 2200 other backers and dislike it, you can bail out before the KS is over. No harm, no foul.

We want our backers to be into the project, and totally understand when some folks don’t dig it. Not every project appeals to every potential backer. It’s why we set up our KSs this way, now. https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/cults-of-the-blood-gods-for-vampire-the-masquerade-5th-ed

Most of last week was spent at Mid Winter Convention in a gathering of almost the entire Monday Meeting crew plus dozens of freelancers. And a wonderful group of friends and fans, too. We started with:

THE SUMMIT

This was a day long – well half a day, it took us 12 hours – meeting where we took a look back at 2019, and then mostly looked at our plans for ongoing projects and how we could evolve our processes.

Then we spent the second half of the day looking at how we wanted Onyx Path to grow throughout 2020. What works for us and so should be nurtured and fed with love and effort and money.

If we felt something was no longer working, we didn’t just trash it, we looked at ways to change it or replace it so that our original goal for it was more likely to be met.

It was loud and long and lively, and ultimately we filled three walls with Post-Its filled with our ideas. We’re already working on some of the changes, with more to come of our efforts all through 2020 (and beyond).

Then it was time for dinner, and normally in Milwaukee we’d go to the traditional German restaurant Maders (a tradition going all the way back to when White Wolf ate there during Gen-Con), but then this happened:

I cry at the door to Maders: temporarily closed for renovation.

So we all ate at a different restaurant, which was perfectly nice, but not steeped in tradition. Sob! Later that night, I joined with our amazing Onyx Pathcast hosts (Dixie, Matthew, and Eddy) for a very silly Pathcast recording that went live last Friday. You can find that on Podbean, or on your favorite podcast venue.

Matthew, Eddy, and Dixie “enjoying” their favorite Mario pastime!

From there on in, we were attending the convention. So:

THE MID WINTER CONVENTION

Here is a run-down with a whole lot of pics taken throughout, as were the earlier ones, by the multi-talented Meredith Gerber.

Eddy’s Developer Bootcamp.

Thursday was set-up for the booth and some professional seminars and panels designed to help freelancers and aspiring creators with tips on such things as running a Kickstarter (Mighty Matt McElroy, Meredith, and I were that panel), to networking, to Eddy’s Developer Bootcamp where he divides attendees into teams, has them come up with a game concept, and walks them through each stage of creation.

My favorite idea was a game where a cyber-pug is created in parts, with each cyber-part containing one bit of what I believe was an exploded pug’s body. I heard about it second-hand, so I might not be grasping the full nuanced concept.

Friday, for us, was important. This was the day of our Onyx Path Q&A Social, which is a small gathering in a boardroom at the hotel, with snacks and drinks. We’ve found that this works better for us than the traditional panel at this convention.

Onyx Path Q&A Social 2020

I explain some minor, inconsequential, point while the gang wait to announce new releases.

Matt reminds us to announce Trinity Continuum: Adventure!, TC: Assassins, They Came From Beyond the Grave!, and The Hedge for CtL2e.

Naeall Raemonn Pricae makes a point – potentially about Scion, Exalted Essence, or Trinity Continuum: Assassins. Or something that applies to all three at once.

Eddy also makes a point – in an elegant and thought-provoking manner.

That was our big group event, but individually everybody still had events they were a part of. In fact, right after the Q&A, Matthew demo’d They Came From Beneath the Sea!. Which I didn’t know about until I heard gales of laughter from the demo area and popped my head in to see what the jocularity was all about.

It turns out the group was menaced by Commie Seaweed!

But with a clever use of improvised Quip and Cinematics cards…

…the day is saved by, well, getting the sinister seaweed stoned!

Besides They Came From Beneath the Sea!, we had other games of ours being demoed throughout the convention, including Eddy playing Pugmire (big surprise, I know), and at least one more panel – which was for V5 Chicago By Night.

Incidentally, mentioning V5 reminds me that not only do we have the Cults KS finishing up, but our friends over at Modiphius still have the pre-order open for Fall of London for Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition! You can do that whole pre-order thing for the physical book over there on their website, and get a link for the PDF right away!

But, besides helping out our fellow V5 content creators with a plug, here are some pics of Eddy playing Pugmire, and then the V5 Chicago By Night creators at their panel:

Eddy demos Pugmire, the very best doggy game in the world!

The V5 Chicago By Night creators no doubt revealing some scary and mysterious bit of lore from the book!

The Chicago panelists and creators: Crystal Mazur, Matthew “The Gentleman Tongue” Dawkins, Mike Tomasek, and Eddy Webb.

And so, to end our little visual tour of our adventures at Mid Winter in Milwaukee, here is a gorgeous picture taken once again by Meredith Gerber, of Matthew and I in a moment of downtime in our habitual haunt, the Monarch Lounge in the hotel:

Lords of the Night, indeed!

Check us out next week, after we’ve fully recovered – we hope! We’ll have lots more talk about our:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

Kickstarter!

V5 Cults of the Blood Gods is in its last few days! Thanks to all of you, the kickstarter has passed $131,000 and 2240 backers, and has trumpeted forward passing through Stretch Goal after Stretch Goal right into the new year!

Next on Kickstarter, we are looking at Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition for Chronicles of Darkness!

Onyx Path Media!

This Friday’s Onyx Pathcast is an in-depth roundtable on the Trinity Continuum with Danielle Lauzon and Ian Watson from the MidWinter Convention in Milwaukee! Check it out direct on Podbean, or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

An abbreviated profile of media this week, as Matthew has only just got back from the States and is a little tired.

We’ve a busy week ahead of us on Twitch with Vampire: The Masquerade, Chronicles of Darkness, Pugmire, Aberrant, Changeling: The Lost, Hunter: The Vigil, Changeling: The Dreaming, Scarred Lands and Blood City’s Chicago by Night!

As ever, tune in to twitch.tv/theonyxpath to watch these shows live and subscribe to the channel!

Our YouTube channel will start boosting its content again this week, with more Scion, Pugmire, Scarred Lands, Aberrant, Vampire and more!

Find our YouTube channel on youtube.com/user/theonyxpath and as with Twitch, click subscribe! An Onyx Path News is coming this week!

Here’s Occultists Anonymous‘ latest fantastic Mage: The Awakening shows:

Episode 72: From The Ashes Before heading to the Yucatan, Atratus visits the soul fragment of a mage in an Atlantean soul stone. The cabal then heads down to Mexico and begins to investigate the ancient pyramid.https://youtu.be/NylE4FsuYfs

Episode 73: This Isn’t Kansas The cabal investigates the portal atop the Pyramid of the Magician, for beyond it lies another world, and perhaps a clue to the grimoire they are searching for. Wyrd has spotted what seems to be a living Mayan civilization beyond the portal, but what really is out there?https://youtu.be/CETbEGEbrUU

The Story Told Podcast have recently interviewed Onyx Path mainstay Vera Vartanian on the subject of Exalted right here: http://thestorytold.libsyn.com/episode-44-exalted-dragon-blooded-great-houses-part-1-with-vera-vartanian

Red Moon Roleplaying have posted the final episode of The Sacrifice for V5 Chicago by Night, run by the excellent Klara Herbol, but as well, they’re still posting episodes of V5 Cults of the Blood Gods and Changeling: The Lost! Find their content on YouTube, Spotify, or redmoonroleplaying.com

Drop Matthew a message via the contact button on matthewdawkins.com if you have actual plays, reviews, or game overviews you want us to profile on the blog!

Please check any of these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

We’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Now, we’ve added Changeling: The Lost 2nd Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scarred Lands (Pathfinder) books are also on sale at Studio2, and they have the 5e version, supplements, and dice as well!: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/scarred-lands

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And NOW Scion Origin and Scion Hero are available to order!

One more week: DTRPG and its affiliated Community Content sites are running the New Year, New Game sale! A huge number of our PDFs are on sale from all of our game worlds, as well as a Big Scion 2e Bundle with 4 PDFs being offered for $13! https://www.drivethrurpg.com/product/299474/NYNG-Scion-2E-BUNDLE

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, we will be releasing the PDF and physical book PoD versions of M20 Book of the Fallen on DTRPG!

This book deals with extremely disturbing and mature topics as it examines evil within the World of Darkness, and in Mage: The Ascension, in particular. Please be aware of this before making your order.

Conventions!

More conventions will be listed for 2020 in the weeks to come-

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

Duke Rollo fiction (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

RUST (Working Title) (Scarred Lands)

Under Alien Suns (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Redlines

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Second Draft

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Monsters of the Deep (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Tales of Aquatic Terror (They Came From Beneath the Sea!)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness)

Manuscript Approval

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum Core)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Post-Approval Development

Scion LARP Rules (Scion)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Titanomachy (Scion 2nd Edition)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Editing

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Geist 2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Dragon-Blooded Novella #1 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Mythical Denizens (Creatures of the World Bestiary) (Scion 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire KS-Added Adventure (Realms of Pugmire)

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad (Scarred Lands)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Terra Firma (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Buried Bones: Creating in the Realms of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Post-Editing Development

TC: Aeon Ready-Made Characters (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

TC: Aeon Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Vigil Watch (Scarred Lands)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Wraith20 Fiction Anthology (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Let the Streets Run Red (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Indexing

ART DIRECTION FROM MIKE CHANEY!

In Art Direction

Contagion Chronicle – Last of finals coming in.

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Ex3 Lunars – Art is in.

TCfBtS!: Heroic Land Dwellers – LeBlanc working on finals.

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed – Finals starting to come in this week.

Cults of the Blood God (KS)

Mummy 2

City of the Towered Tombs

Let the Streets Run Red – Art notes and contracts finishing going out this week.

CtL Oak Ash and Thorn – Figuring out art notes.

Scion Mythical Denizens – Need sketches for fulls.

Deviant

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad – Finals all coming in.

Vigil Watch – Need one more artist.

Legendlore (KS) – Starting to gather art needs for KS.

Technocracy Reloaded (KS) – Artwork for KS in progress.

Scion Companion – Working on art notes for that.

TC: Aeon Terra Firma

In Layout

Trinity Continuum Aeon: Distant Worlds

Pirates of Pugmire – With Aileen.

Wraith20 Anthology – First Proof.

Proofing

Dark Eras 2 – Backer PDF going out to backers this week.

Trinity Continuum Aeon Jumpstart

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Backer PDF almost ready to send to backers.

VtR Spilled Blood – 2nd proof with dev.

Chicago Folio – First proof.

At Press

V5: Chicago – Shipping labels for backers being created, should start shipping rewards soon.

Geist 2e (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition) – Shipping to fulfillment shippers.

Geist 2e Screen – Being printed.

DR:E – Shipping to fulfillment shippers.

DRE Screen – Being printed.

DR:E Threat Guide – Helnau’s Guide to Wasteland Beasties

Memento Mori – Awaiting errata for input.

M20 Book of the Fallen – PDF and PoD version go live on Wednesday on DTRPG!

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Almost our entire Monday Meeting crew made it to Milwaukee and back safely, and had a great and productive time at our Summit and the convention. I got stuck for a while in Milwaukee’s airport with a delayed plane, and Ian had a bunch of flights cancelled out from under him, but we’re all home now. Which is, for us, a pretty great trip!

[pikapeppa]

Online Dating: A Tale in Six Parts

A couple years ago, I wrote a personal essay for a book project for a friend of a friend. The project leader ultimately rejected my piece because it wasn’t academic enough, to which my response was as follows:

I then promptly forgot about it. But now I’m deciding to publish it here, because why not. So here you go: an autobiographical tale of Pikapeppa’s experiences with online dating. (Please note: this is MY personal experience with online dating as a cis straight woman, and is not meant to be representative of anyone else’s experience but mine, since I can’t knowledgeably comment on that.)

************************

Online Dating: A Tale in Six Parts

Online dating has been widely vilified, especially since so many cis-heterosexual women have such gross experiences with it: unsolicited dick pics, misogynistic insults when you don’t respond immediately, seemingly nice guys who either “ghost” or suddenly become perverts in the blink of a notification.

I’m here to tell a happier story of online dating, and how it restored my faith in my social skills, my confidence in myself - and how I learned a thing or two about relationships along the way.

Part I: Intro

I’m a shy girl.

Let’s be specific. I consider myself an introvert, or an ambivert at a stretch. I have an extremely hard time talking to strangers; I loathe small talk. At parties, my quietness has a direct inverse relationship with the size of the crowd I’m in: the more people there are, the less I say, until I might as well be a piece of furniture in the corner if the party is a big one. I’m most comfortable in small groups of four people max (including myself), and even then, I get uncomfortable if I’m the centre of attention for too long. I generally prefer to listen than to talk. My ideal weekend includes one entire day for recharging at home with just Netflix and my cat for company.

In January 2012, I moved to Montreal for grad school. When I got there, I knew nobody. I’d moved to Montreal wanting a change, as I’d lived in Toronto my whole life. But somehow in my excitement to move, I’d forgotten that a) I had no friends in Montreal and b) I hate talking to strangers and I hate small talk: the two necessary evils of Making Friends. I spent a solid six months by myself, exploring the city in solitude or hanging out in my apartment with my cat, increasingly hating myself for the fact that I had been living in this city for almost a year and still had no friends except for some casual acquaintances whom I’d met at a mingling party for new grad students. I have some embarrassingly angsty journal entries whining about how there must be something wrong with me, because what kind of person can’t make a single friend in six months of living in a new city? I can’t fully express my gratitude that one of my labmates, who was finishing her Master’s degree at the time, took pity on me and invited me out for drinks, eventually becoming my first good friend in Montreal and introducing me to many other amazing women friends.

Eventually I got into my social stride in Montreal. I had friends; I was satisfyingly busy with my graduate work; and I continued to enjoy relaxing with my cat. (I could write a whole chapter devoted to my mental/emotional well-being and my cat, but let’s save that for another time, shall we?) But as my thesis was wrapping up and I started having more free time, I realized that I was ready to add to my social life. I was ready - gasp! - to pursue a romantic relationship.

This was September 2012. By then, I’d been single for about two years, and largely happy without a partner. But aside from being busy with my thesis, there was another significant reason I had not dated anyone in Montreal: I didn’t know how to meet men.

Part II: The foray into online dating

Traditionally, people meet their partners through work, through common interests, or by bumping into them in bars. I wouldn’t be meeting anyone at work because my master’s degree focused on a topic dominated by female academics, so essentially all of my colleagues were women. My interests involved typically homebody activities like movies, reading, and cooking. And my carefully cultivated Resting Bitch Face usually deterred men in bars from approaching me (as well as my pixie haircut, which I purposely got in order to weed out the kind of shallow male who “only likes girls with long hair”.) The graduate community at McGill often had mingling or speed dating events; however, see above regarding my quietness in crowds and hatred of small talk. Long story short, the traditional ways of meeting men were out.

This is where online dating came into the mix. For me, it was a logical and practical choice. I’ve never been interested in casual flings, so I figured that online dating, especially from a paid website, would have a larger number of men who were looking for something more serious. Importantly, online profiles would also provide information about interests and sense of humour, which - praise the Flying Spaghetti Monster! - would mean that small talk could be avoided, since we could talk about common interests. And there was a final reason that online dating appealed to me: I wanted to meet someone whose occupation was NOT at all similar to mine.

Now, this might be a kind of unusual criteria to express for one’s mate. After all, there is a reason that many people meet their partners at work or engaging in common interests: these things provide a common ground for conversation and for connecting. But as much as I enjoyed research and had aspirations to eventually work in healthcare, I didn’t want to date someone who did those things. After all, I had moved to Montreal looking for something new, dammit! I wanted to broaden my horizons. I wanted a partner who could be my Aladdin and show me a Whole New World.

And thus my online dating adventure began.

Part III: The adventure begins

Everyone has different experiences with online dating. I will say this: I found it really fun and interesting. Importantly, it helped me realize that my social skills, in fact, were not total crap. Within two weeks, I’d gone on dates with a handful of nice, normal-seeming men from a variety of professions. Each time, I went home pleased that I’d had a pleasant, functional conversation with a stranger, without the situation devolving into awkward silence due to my inability to talk like a normal human.

The dating experience was also an important confidence booster. When you’ve been single for two years without any hint of interest from the opposite sex, it’s easy to start thinking you’re deficient in some way. With a handful of successful dates under my belt, I was finally starting to believe that my singledom really was circumstance and not social ineptitude. It also reminded me of something else I’d forgotten during the moping self-pity of my first six months in Montreal: given the right circumstances, I actually enjoy flirting. Dates were actually kind of the perfect social situation for me: one-on-one conversation with a person who you already have things in common with, and with whom you can practice your witty repartee? After two weeks, I felt renewed, confident, and like I had choices - a lot of choices.

Part IV: Disaster strikes (in the most inconsequential first-world-problems kind of way)

Another important role that online dating had in my life was that it led to my first experience of being hurt in a relationship. Here is how it happened: I met a guy with whom I had “chemistry”. Ah, yes, chemistry: that vague, indefinable concept that, in my case, really just meant I had met a guy I was really attracted to. We went on two really fun dates, and then spent a weekend together - and I, being naive, thought I had found my next boyfriend. But a few dates later, he suddenly (and apologetically and politely) said he didn’t think we should see each other anymore.

I was frankly crushed. I’d been incredibly lucky in that by the age of twenty-something, I’d never been dumped or rejected romantically… so this experience of rejection hit me hard. I cried. I drank three beers (a lot for me!) and watched The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo with much maudlin relish. I blasted happy music to drown out my angsty thoughts, and I pow-wowed with my best friends to analyze and re-analyze everything he had said and done. And I was crushed anew when I went on the dating site again to see that he was still active. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to date; it was that he didn’t want to date me. And that really hurt.

Part IV: Wisdom

Ultimately, I’m thankful I was rejected, because I learned a lot of important lessons:

Don’t be tricked by “chemistry”! Rom-coms tell us that chemistry is the most important thing. It’s not. At all. “Chemistry” just means “immediate sexual attraction”. This is not a wise thing on which to base an entire relationship.

Rom-coms also teach us that a guy who doesn’t want a relationship will eventually come around if you are charming enough. This is not true.

Just because someone treats you nicely, doesn’t mean they want the same thing in a relationship as you. Listening to what your date is telling you - i.e. “I don’t know if I want a serious relationship” (yep, the guy who dumped me literally said this on our second date) - is very important.

Many newly single men just don’t know how to be alone, so they start online dating even if they aren’t ready for a new relationship… and they may not realize they don’t want a new relationship until after they’ve started one. The lesson here: be up-front about your relationship expectations/goals and candidly ask your dates about theirs.

Most importantly of all, I learned firsthand what it feels like for someone you want to not want you back. My taste of rejection was the briefest, most inconsequential taste - a week-long fling, compared to committed relationships or divorces. But it was enough to foster a stronger empathy for the pain of rejection and heartbreak, and I feel that this alone was absolutely worth it.

This list of lessons may sound skeptical or discouraging. But I actually found my new knowledge to be incredibly comforting. I now had a set of rules that I could use to better play the dating game - and this time, I was sure I would succeed. Armed with my newfound dating wisdom, I ventured into the world of online dating again, with a different site (a fresh start!) and a cautiously optimistic outlook.

Part V: The Artist

My second attempt at online dating, like the first, was fun. As before, I dated many nice, polite men and had pleasant, interesting conversations. And then I met The Artist.

My first date with The Artist, as I called him in those early days, was as pleasant as any first date I’d gone on. But he had this huge, uninhibited smile, and his laugh was larger-than-life and more enthusiastic than any laugh I’d heard in my life. On our second date, I told him openly that I was dating many people, but that he was my favourite so far. He smiled and nodded agreeably. On our third date, he kissed me… and without either of us saying so, we both knew our online dating careers were at an end. More than six years later, The Artist and I are engaged and living happily with our Playstation, our cat, and some gently wilting plants.

Yes, I just summarized my relationship in a single paragraph. But my goal here isn’t to wax poetic about my fiancé. It’s to point out that without online dating, I would never met him. He works in a completely different profession from mine, and at the time that we met, he lived and worked in different neighbourhoods from me. Our social circles would never have overlapped. But online dating brought us together in more subtle ways as well. My positive experiences in early dates gave me the confidence to continue dating after I got rejected. My experience of rejection led me to try a different dating website - the site that he was on. And the lessons I learned from being rejected led me to a wiser, more open approach to dating and relationships in general - an approach that The Artist appreciated. Given this analysis, I would argue that online dating doesn’t deserve the credit for my relationship, but it does deserve the credit for pushing me out of my comfort zone and giving me experiences that helped me develop into the emotionally mature, pragmatic, and confident woman who eventually captivated a similarly mature and pragmatic man.

Part VI: Conclusions and caveats

My biggest caveat is that I used online websites with paid memberships. As I mentioned earlier, I figured that people who are paying are more likely to be looking for a serious relationship, since paying requires commitment, whereas unpaid sites would have more people who were dabbling or “just curious”. I never used Tinder or Bumble, where online dating is like a game. A friend also recently suggested that I may have had such an easy time with online dating because, in her words (NOT MINE), I am “a babe”. But if you take anything away from this essay, let it be this: online dating is not all bad or all good. Like old-fashioned dating, it’s a complex phenomenon that takes on the biases and colours that you bring into it. And like old-fashioned dating, it can provide new experiences that will let you learn things about yourself - and about love, and life in general - that you didn’t know.

Don’t let online dating define your love life. Let it be a tool to learn about yourself, and maybe, like me, you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

[nandalorian]

OCD Marvel Costume Series: Black Widow

Ever since I did that post about Captain America’s theoretical onesie and the evolution of his costume, I’ve gotten a lot of requests to do a similar OCD breakdown analysis about Black Widow’s.

After Cap and Bucky, Widow’s easily my favourite MCU character, so I am all too happy to break it down. But just know this required me to wade through so many disgusting male comments about her costume and body that I wanted to flip my desk and set it on fire. Repeatedly. You’re welcome.

Here are the six costumes I’ll be looking at from 2010-2018.

From L to R: Iron Man 2, Avengers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers: Age of Ultron, Captain America: Civil War, and Avengers: Infinity War.

Putting the rest under a read more because shit’s gonna get long.

Let’s begin: Iron Man 2.

This is the first time we meet Natasha in the MCU franchise, and I don’t know about you guys, but I remember there being a LOT of hype surrounding Scarlett being cast in a totally non-objectifying way. <_<

Just kidding. Here’s actual footage of every straight man watching/starring in Iron Man 2 when Nat’s on screen:

This, I think, is a good place to add a caveat that it’s difficult to address Natasha’s looks and clothing without sounding like I’m criticizing her appearance and sexuality, including her ability to weaponize those things or the fact that she is entitled to enjoy them in any way she likes. As a character, certainly she is, and to me that’s one of the really interesting aspects of her personality and an incredible skill. As a woman, those are things not worthy of criticizing, IMO. But the films present a grey area because they are all directed by men, and to a large extent for men. So it’s hard to find the line between what is meant to entice audiences and what is meant to tell us something important about who Nat is, and to what extent the latter is the original intent of the costume choices. How do you extricate the character from the male gaze when the male gaze permeates so much of comic book culture, and by extension the MCU? Let’s not forget how many gratuitous ass shots there are of Natasha in a given movie, although the Russos generally do a good job of evening the playing field by liberally sprinkling in plenty of Cap ass shots too. The Russos are like the salt baes of equal-opportunity and gender-neutral ass shots.

But back to Natasha. In Iron Man 2, she spends most of the movie in sexy wiggle dresses or low-cut blouses, presenting herself as an object of desire for all the men in the film (possibly some of the women) and a thorn in Pepper Potts’s side until they join forces against Tony. (Obviously her intention, since Natasha weaponizes everything about herself, but it was also pretty clearly for audience titillation as much as the character never does anything by accident.)

But then, surprise! It’s revealed she’s the Black Widow and capable of kicking more ass than just about anyone else in the film/on the planet, and can even do it in a skintight catsuit and crazy hair flying in her face at all times!

Natasha’s suit is probably the least functional in this movie because it’s designed to look like a sexy female comic book hero costume, not something a real agent would wear in a believable conflict situation. Or maybe they would, I don’t know. I’m not a spy. But objectively speaking, she has a totally useless belt with the Black Widow symbol around her middle, then the tactical belt, holsters, etc. The fabric looks shiny and stretchy but isn’t leather. That being said, you can’t get much more spot on in terms of the visual interpretation, if you look at how she’s drawn by J Scott Campbell. I am not positive whether IM2 Widow is an interpretation of this artist’s illustration or vice versa, but either way, she translates from film to comic and back again pretty flawlessly.

Just don’t even get me started on the hair because w h a t. Tell me you can’t hear it crackling when you look at this gif. Go on, I dare you.

No wonder ScarJo switched to wigs after this movie.

Ironically, even though this costume is pretty ridiculous in terms of offering any kind of practicality or protection from bullets/knives/explosions, I have to point out that Iron Man 2 is the only movie where Black Widow actually wears practical footwear.

Look at those things. Those are flat, FUNCTIONAL boots. You could do all the running, jumping, and punching things you wanted and not feel like your goddamn feet were going to fall off, or worse, plant you on your fucking face because you’re wearing heels into combat. RIP flat Widow boots.

Moving on. Avengers 1.

Much like the other costumes in this film, Natasha’s outfit is still pretty comic book-y, although to a less cartoonish extent than Captain America some. That is pretty much Joss Whedon’s trademark as a director, although shockingly, I felt Widow looked more serious and ready for battle. Alexandra Byrne did the costume design on Avengers and Ultron, as well as Thor and Guardians of the Galaxy (hence the trademark styles in A1 and A2, plus similarities between Natasha and Gamora’s costumes), and she has a distinct touch. Here the nods to practicality include less extravagant hair (though Natasha also has short hair plenty of times in the comics) and the fact that her suit looks like it could deflect a knife (possibly). Even her civilian clothing looks less hyperfeminine than that of Iron Man 2, and it’s here we begin to see that Nat’s outfit of choice is usually some combination of jeans, a jacket, and knee-high boots with a small heel. It always strikes me that this is probably what she’s most comfortable in when she’s not dressed as Black Widow. Even her stance here looks like that of a soldier, less of a stereotypically female pose.

I couldn’t help but feel a lot of this was intentional on Whedon’s part in order to avoid anyone accusing him of sexualizing Natasha and to look like a Real Director Who Takes Female Characters Seriously (TM). So he dresses women more realistically but then just assassinates their character in other ways, as you do. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

As far as her suit is concerned, don’t get me wrong: it’s still textured plastic meant to stretch and allow movement and comfort and cling to certain... assets... and they still haven’t gotten rid of her totally useless Widow belt. But at least she looks a bit more like she means business and less like she’s just there to look hot.

However, in this film they also introduced the infamous heels to her costume. 

In the immortal words of Shuri:

Like Cap’s ab window, this is one of those design choices I begrudgingly understand from a movie perspective--it looks ~sexier and ~more feminine and also reduces the height difference between ScarJo and her male costars (plus other female characters like Agent Hill wear heels too, and so does Wonder Woman in the DC franchise. They appear in the Black Widow comics too), but the reality of someone willingly wearing heels in this type of environment makes me want to facepalm real bad. Sure, you can argue fighting in heels is just one of Nat’s special abilities that makes her better than the rest of us, but--that’s probably not why.

And they don’t go away, even when the movie and writing quality drastically improves. Anyone who read my post on Cap’s suits will probably be able to guess that The Winter Soldier is my #1 Marvel film and had some of my favourite costumes in the MCU, and Nat is no exception there. 

The way the Russos interpret her, through their writing and their vision for the overall look of the film and the way the costumes are designed (Judianna Makovsky did all the costumes for Winter Soldier, Civil War, and Infinity War, which makes total sense in ways I’ll explain in a moment), also reminds me a bit of Phil Noto and Nathan Edmonson’s Black Widow. Plenty of people might be inclined to disagree with me there, I’m sure, but Noto and Edmonson’s series, tonally and visually, is very similar to TWS in the sense that they feel like political thrillers, and the character styling in the film continues that theme. The story and the way the characters are written and styled crosses genres and blurs the line between comic book, thriller, and real life.  

In TWS, Nat looks like a fucking badass, but also somehow more relatable and human despite her perfect hair and flawless skin. TWS was the film where she, for me (along with the rest of the cast, especially Steve), went from being a character to being a person with all the shades of greys, uncertainties, and ambiguities that entails. That’s where the Russos excel, making fictional characters come alive with nuance and layers. Kind of like how you know if they had done a Hawkeye movie, they’d have probably adapted Hawkeye #19. 

Their unique way of finding the humanity in comic book characters and situating them in the real world translates interestingly through the costumes. Even her hair is the most natural-looking shade of copper red than any of the other films, where it tends to looks more dyed. Trust me, as someone who spent 9 years trying to achieve the perfect and most natural shade of copper red possible, I know how difficult it is to get right, even if this is obviously a wig.

If you look reeeeal close at the above pic, you can tell she’s graduated from stretchy plastic to something that resembles kevlar or some kind of protective utility material. You can just make out the lines and texture in the fabric. Still stretches and lets her move, obviously still skintight, but upgrades her to a higher degree of real-world believability in the same way the stealth suit did for Cap. 

I find the back of her suit interesting too. There’s a panel sewn over her butt that looks identical to the full-seat equestrian breeches I wear riding, which are meant to offer reinforcement and grip. I’m not entirely sure why Nat needs either of those things in combat, but there you have it. (In all seriousness, it could be because the fabric they used is less stretchy or doesn’t hold its shape the same way, so they had to piece it together differently to allow for movement and shape retention through all the stunts.)

Actually, scratch that. Why wouldn’t you need reinforcement and grip when doing this?

Weird butt panel notwithstanding, Nat’s TWS suit also introduces more protective details like leather and sewn-in kneepads, and her Widow belt actually serves to cinch in the costume instead of just sit there pointlessly, leaving her with just the tac belt. Still the dumb heels too, but I promise I’ll get over it. Maybe.

Next: Age of Ultron. People are going to side-eye the shit out of me for saying this, but... Widow’s costume continues to be less ridiculous than, say, Cap’s. Cartoonish, yes, with a lot of frankly baffling design choices, and visually I liked it the least. But weirdly enough, the construction of the suit and the fabric is less ridiculous than it seems at first glance; it looks like it’d actually offer a pretty high degree of protection in the field. Check it out.

There’s a matte leather and a similar kevlar/utility fabric as her suit in TWS, and the Widow belt and the tac belt have been combined into one so there are fewer pointless buckles. 

I mean, too bad they ruin it by adding glowing blue parts that make her look like she’s about to go cosplay as Tron as soon as she finishes saving the world, and I will never understand why her gauntlets are suddenly red, but a detail that caught my eye is right on the bodice. See those seams under her bust? 

It looks like it could be there just to draw attention to her boobs, but as a former fencer, I can tell you those are almost certainly for a chest plate or removable protective cups. (From a movie costuming perspective, they’re probably to give the bust more definition, as that’s literally an underwire construction. Yes, okay, I realize this. But if we consider the character, a chest plate makes far more sense.) And if you are a woman in a combat situation where you’re getting whacked in the tits a bunch of times, you need a fucking chest plate. She doesn’t appear to be wearing one in the other films, which is as absurd as Cap going into battle without wearing a cup. Have you ever been clocked in the tits before? With a weapon, no less? Because I have, and it’s not fun. It happens to you once, and you’re on Amazon buying a chest plate or protective cups literally the next day. Or, you know, from the toilet immediately after as you sit there crying and cradling your poor bruised boobs.

Another really practical detail is that she has proper kneepads in this costume, which is ideal if you’re sliding around on the ground a lot, or taking hard landings.

BUT WHY DO THEY GLOW IN THE DARK? /despair

Oddly enough, Nat’s suit in Captain America: Civil War was one of my least favourites--initially. But I was wrong to feel that way, and I’ll tell you why. Why didn’t I like it at first? Well, they pick up some of the same details as in TWS and add other more practical things like no-nonsense kneepads, but they also seem to add boning to the bodice of the suit, and lots of piping everywhere on the arms and torso that would probably rub unpleasantly if you were moving around that much. Unnecessary seams=friction. That’s a lesson any equestrian will tell you too.

I also was not a fan of the Farah Fawcett vibe I got from her hair, but that could just be me. Her suit here is functional, overall, but it doesn’t reinvent the wheel or make her look sleek and dangerous in the same way as TWS. It has less... style than her other suits and civilian outfits (which were my fave in this film), and after this many movies, I think we’ve come to associate the Black Widow suit with style and making certain death at her hands/thighs look good. 

But there is a point to her suit looking more tactical, which you can better see here. From this angle, she looks almost military, certainly the most military of any of the other films, and that is intentional and significant later on.

Because much like Cap’s uniform carries over to Infinity War, so does Nat’s. That was a clever segue, in case you were wondering.

This is such a departure from anything else Nat wears in the other films that you kind of have to tip your hat at the designer and the Russos and Judianna Makovsky for having such a sharp eye for detail and a knack for letting costume tell a story. Not only does Natasha change her hair and eyebrow colour, but she changes the colour of her suit too, adding in some green and almost entirely eliminating the sex appeal of the other Widow costumes. But the continuity is most impressive of all.

It’s hard to tell, but just like Steve is wearing the same uniform as in Civil War, minus the star he clawed off with his bare hands, Nat is wearing the exact same Widow costume with a tactical vest on top and some new body armour (shoulder and elbow pads). Remember that piping on the arms, legs, and bodice I bitched about a second ago? If you look closely, it’s all clearly visible in the same spots, and it’s obvious the vest just goes over top. Her kneepads and boots are the exact same too. This girl did a complete 180 on her look with nothing more than a tac vest and an emergency appointment with Guy Tang for some blonde balayage. 

It’s amazing that Steve and Sam think going incognito involves DIY distressing on their uniforms and growing some playoff beards, but Natasha can become an entirely different person just by changing a few key details. Especially the eyebrows. I once wrote a line in a fic about how her lighter eyebrows in Infinity War totally change the shape of her face. I think that’s a detail everyone noticed in the trailers, how strange she looked with those ultrablonde brows. But that’s perfect for this character and something Nat would intuitively pick up on, because it leaves her almost unrecognizable. Just like makeup can subtly change someone’s face shape, so can eyebrows, but she ditches makeup in Infinity War to the same effect. It’s the makeover equivalent of “walk, don’t run.” Kind of amazing to think she is so many steps ahead of everyone else that she can go down Dick’s Sporting Goods and CVS for nothing more than a tac vest and a box of hair dye, respectively, and literally emerge looking like a different person. When she says she’s figuring out a new cover, this is the stuff she means.

So there you have it. I hope this costume breakdown as as fun for you to read as it was to put together, and I continue to be impressed and occasionally stumped by the design choices made by the MCU costuming departments. They really do know their stuff and how important clothing is to the understanding of a character, and Nat, who is a master of tailoring her look for maximum effect, proves this rule more than almost anyone else.

Thanks for reading! I might tackle Bucky next, so stay tuned.

[theculturedmarxist]

Directed by Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck; written by Boden, Fleck and Geneva Robertson-Dworet

The production and release of Captain Marvel, the new science fiction superhero adventure from Marvel and Disney, has a number of remarkable features, but none of them involve the film’s drama, action or characters.

Briefly, Captain Marvel, in convoluted fashion, follows US Air Force pilot Carol Danvers (Brie Larson) who absorbs an awesome energy source, making her potentially “one of the universe’s most powerful heroes ever known,” according to the film’s publicity.

However, six years later, she is suffering from amnesia, doesn’t know who or what she is and has become a member of the repressive Starforce Military under her mentor Yon-Rogg (Jude Law). The shapeshifting Skrulls, the apparent enemy, force Danvers to crash-land in the US in the mid-1990s. But all is not what it appears. Danvers discovers secrets about herself and about a “galactic war” between two alien races.

Not much of this is interesting, although it is noisy and “action-packed.” Captain Marvel, as a film, is predictable, empty and tedious. The more “sensitive” scenes on Earth, focusing on Danvers and her African American friend Maria Rambeau (Lashana Lynch) and daughter (Akira Akbar), are possibly the most contrived and least convincing.

The first genuinely noteworthy fact about the new film, not surprisingly, concerns money.

Disney, the film’s distributor, is the world’s largest media company, with some $100 billion in assets. With a market value of $152 billion, it ranks as the 53rd largest company of any kind in the world, just behind Total (oil and gas), Merck (pharmaceuticals), the Bank of China (one of the four leading state-owned commercial banks in China), Unilever, DowDuPont and BP.

Media reports place Captain Marvel’s combined net production and global marketing costs at $300 million. To date, the film’s global box office stands at $774 million.

Captain Marvel is truly “corporate entertainment”—i.e., the very process by which it came into being prevents it from being entertaining or enlightening in any meaningful fashion.

This type of large-scale, officially sponsored filmmaking, whose success is avidly promoted and tracked by the media and business publications in particular, inevitably intersects and overlaps with other aspects of American establishment culture. In the case of Captain Marvel, this means militarism and feminism specifically.

The US Air Force was involved in the production of Captain Marvel.

In fact, Task & Purpose reported that Marvel Studios launched the official start of production “with a photo of Larson, and Air Force Brig. Gen. Jeannie M. Leavitt, then-commander of the 57th Wing and the service’s first female fighter pilot, atop an F-15 at Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada.”

“To prepare for her role, Larson,” according to The Wrap, visited the Air Force base “to join simulated dogfights. The film’s red-carpet premiere included testimonials from Air Force men and women and a flyover by the Air Force’s Nellis-based Thunderbirds.”

Task & Purpose, a website that follows the American military, also cited the emailed comments of Todd Fleming, chief of the Community and Public Outreach Division at Secretary of the Air Force Public Affairs: “The Air Force partners on any number of entertainment projects to ensure the depiction of Airmen and the Air Force mission is accurate and authentic. Our partnership with ‘Capt Marvel’ [sic] helped ensure the character’s time in the Air Force and backstory was presented accurately. It also highlighted the importance of the Air Force to our national defense.”

“[Captain Marvel] is not part of a recruiting strategy but we would expect that audiences seeing a strong Air Force heroine, whose story is in line with the story of many of our Airmen, would be positively received,” Fleming said.

The issue of female recruitment is no small matter. American imperialism, recklessly gearing up for war against Russia, China and other rivals, needs vast new supplies of human fodder. Task & Purpose explains, “The spotlight on airmen [in Captain Marvel] comes at a time when the Air Force, like the other services, is hunting for the next generation of pilots. The Air Force, Navy, and Marine Corps are all short 25 percent of their pilot billets, according to a GAO [Government Accountability Office] report published this summer; the Air Force in particular has doled out cash incentives like candy in a vain effort to prevent pilots from defecting to the private sector. Indeed, the branch’s plan to increase its number of squadrons by 76 to Cold War levels will require an additional 40,000 personnel, further straining the service’s recruitment capabilities. At the Air Force Academy, female cadets are increasingly encouraged to vie for pilot spots to help bridge that gap.”

Larson, who has made all sorts of useless (or worse) comments about #MeToo, alleged sexual abuse and her own “social activism,” like most of affluent Hollywood, is entirely oblivious to the criminal role of the US military, the greatest source of terror and “abuse” on the planet by an order of magnitude of 100 times or more.

The female heroism in Captain Marvel, of course, has been greeted with plaudits. Entertainment Weekly noted excitedly that the film would “mark the first time a woman will be headlining her own solo superhero movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. It also marks the first time a woman will direct a superhero film for Marvel Studios: Anna Boden will co-direct with her Mississippi Grind partner Ryan Fleck.”

The hope is that Captain Marvel will do “for women” what Black Panther did “for African Americans”—which is, of course, nothing whatsoever, except for a small layer of prominent studio executives, writers, performers, etc.

This comment from Deadline is typical: “One film finance source believes that it’s pretty much certain that Captain Marvel will see $1 billion around the world and break the glass ceiling for female-led pics at the global B.O. [box office], dashing past Wonder Woman’s final global of $821.8M.”

As is this Vox headline: “Why Captain Marvel’s milestone status creates so much pressure for it to succeed—Why Captain Marvel represents more than just a superhero movie.” The article proposes to answer these important questions: “What does a woman superhero mean for Marvel Studios and the MCU [Marvel Cinematic Universe]? What are the takeaways from Captain Marvel’s already overwhelming box office success? What does the film have to say about feminism? What might have happened if it had flopped? And who gets to shape the conversation and narrative surrounding it?”

The final and perhaps most remarkable feature of Captain Marvel involves its writer-directors. (And, secondarily, its performers. What are Larson, Jude Law and the talented Australian actor Ben Mendelsohn, whose acting in The Land of Steady Habits we recently praised, doing in this rubbish?)

We have made the point previously on more than one occasion about the objective significance of the “long march” of numerous so-called independent or art filmmakers toward empty-headed, “blockbuster” movie-making. We noted the examples of Steven Soderbergh (Ocean’s Eleven, etc.), Alan Taylor (Terminator Genisys), the Russo brothers (the Captain America and Avengers franchises), Kenneth Branagh (Thor), Christopher Nolan (Batman Begins, etc.), John Singleton (a Fast and Furious installment), Lee Tamahori (Die Another Day, one of the James Bond fantasies), Marc Forster (another of the Bond films, Quantum of Solace), Sam Mendes (yet another Bond film, Skyfall) and Patty Jenkins (Wonder Woman).

To that list, one can add the more recent examples of Jon Watts (two Spider-Man films), Taika Waititi (Thor: Ragnarok), Ava DuVernay (A Wrinkle in Time) and Ryan Coogler (Black Panther).

In a number of these cases, the filmmakers had earlier indicated vaguely oppositional political views or a certain concern at least for the fate of broader layers of the population.

The lure of large amounts of money is obviously an issue. But perhaps the more pertinent question is: what are the social and ideological conditions that make writers, directors and performers susceptible to this “lure”? It is not inevitable. Artists, including in the US, have been known to repudiate such offers with contempt. Almost inevitably, however, such resistance has been rooted in political and social conceptions and opposition of a left-wing character, sustained by a confidence in the better instincts of the population and its willingness to struggle. Those conceptions and that confidence are sorely lacking today.

The directors of the dreadful Captain Marvel, Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden, should not be entirely unfamiliar to readers of the WSWS, although the context—big-budget Hollywood—may be unexpected. We have reviewed two of their films in the past, Half Nelson (2006) and Sugar (2008).

The Atlantic notes with surprise that Fleck and Boden “until now have worked in the realm of quiet, sensitive indie films.” More than simply “quiet” and “sensitive,” Half Nelson centers on an obviously left-wing high school teacher working at an inner-city school in Brooklyn.

A 2006 New York Times article about the making of Half Nelson is worth citing. The Fleck-Boden film, wrote Dennis Lim, “is a political allegory, a film about a would-be visionary who wants to change the world but can’t get his act together and is often his own worst enemy. It’s not a stretch to read it as a comment on the sorry state of the American left.”

“‘That was more or less conscious,’ the film’s director, Ryan Fleck, said of the political subtext.” Fleck and Boden “started writing Half Nelson … four years ago, as the Bush administration was preparing to invade Iraq and the antiwar movement was gaining momentum. ‘It felt like we were going to protests every other week,’ Mr. Fleck said recently. ‘But ultimately you don’t have the energy to do it all, and you feel like you’re doing very little. A big part of the frustration was the inability to make meaningful change.’

“The activist spirit comes naturally to Mr. Fleck, who was born to socialist parents on a commune in Berkeley, Calif. As a child he was taken to rallies and protests. As a teenager he read Noam Chomsky and Howard Zinn.”

In an interview with Slant magazine, Fleck, asked about religion, replied jokingly “I was raised communist.”

Fleck and Boden’s Sugar, about a Dominican baseball player playing in the minor leagues in the US, the WSWS commented, was “about immigration and acculturation, capitalism and exploitation, hospitality and loneliness.”

Now, a decade later, Captain Marvel.

The same 2006 Times article referred to above contained this passage:

“Mr. Fleck said he hoped that their future projects would remain, however obliquely, rooted in a sense of social justice. ‘Filmmaking is kind of a vain hobby when maybe we should all be taking to the streets,’ he said. ‘But it seems irresponsible not to be informed by politics in some way.’

“Ms. Boden’s idealism is more tempered. ‘I don’t have an inflated sense of what a movie can do,’ she said. ‘But you can at least try not to put something out there that you don’t believe in.’

“Mr. Fleck added: ‘That’s a rule we try to follow, to not put garbage in the world.’”

Unfortunately, they have now.

[troubleisfree]

this is going to be like a very long, detailed, and mostly my personal observations and notes. as it was my first time seeing neymar and the brazil nt in person, i want to remember everything i can while its still fresh. it was a very exciting and at the same time surreal experience because i see those people all the time on tv games and now there they were few feet away from me...

i took the photos and videos. i am usually pretty good at that but i guess the excitement got the better of me because they did not come out fabulous. tumblr is being stupid with not letting me upload more then one video in a post, and i wanted everything together, so i ended up putting them up on youtube.

the hotel 9/3/2018.

so first i went to the hotel (very close to where i live) on monday 9/3. as it was labor day, i was off work and at a bbq/pool party abt 10 miles from home for the day. brazil nt was scheduled to leave the hotel for their first training at 4pm so i left the party early and, after some traffic drama, made it to the hotel little after 3.40pm. there were not too many people so i had a decent view but i also moved around a bit. some of the support staff was coming out already. a few minutes later, firmino was the first i saw, he waved and went straight to the bus.

then a group of marquinhos, douglas costa, fabinho etc came out together. only marquinhos paid any attention to the fans, waving and smiling but didnt stop.

then another group, including casemiro.

then alisson came out. he was really sweet, smiled, stopped with the fans, signed stuff. interacted the most of anyone else with the fans. 

then another group - i think richarlison (idk him really), filipe luis, thiago silva. thiago was just as nice as alisson, stopped with the fans, signed stuff. he looked to me a bit shorter irl then on tv...

willian came out alone next.

at this point, it was almost 4pm, my excitement had totally built up and i was so anxious to see my boy ney. i started thinking that maybe he will get there separately cuz i hadnt seen coutinho and tite either. but there he was! coming out last with barely a minute to spare before 4pm (the timestamp on my photo is 3:58:59pm lol). he was the very last one to come out, chewing on something, with his typical swagger. he waved but didnt stop and the bus left as soon as he got on. he looked just as hot in person as on tv, the cameras dont lie lol. really handsome and very very sexy! i mean, i expected it, i have seen his photos lol but omg he looks so damn good you cant help those dirty thoughts! i felt like an absolute fangirl! this is neither here or there, but he looked to me a little bigger then i expected. just kinda...fuller?

i only took one photo of him cuz i wanted to look at him with my own eyes rather than thru the camera ;)

it was such an incredible experience seeing neymar and the rest of the guys in person so close that i was shaking after! like for real my hands were shaking, my legs were shaking. and i couldnt stop grinning for a good half an hour after. i went to the boardwalk to calm down a bit and just absorb the experience. people passing by probably thought im crazy or reading love letters on my phone or something cuz i just couldnt stop grinning but i didnt give a flying fuck what they were thinking - i had just seen neymar!

my notes and impressions:

1. OMFG I SAW NEYMAR FROM FEW FEET AWAY. just that, my brain was really way too frazzled to process any other impressions lol

the game 9/7/2018

so after some c. drama, despite my initial hopes, i had accepted that i am not going to go to the game. and then the day before i find out I AM GOING!!! i was so freaked out with excitement lol!!!

getting there was so frustrating! first i had forgot to charge my phone before leaving work so i only had like 30% which was nowhere near good enough for my plans of copious pics and vids. so i had to run into a bodega to buy a charger for the car. then for some complicated reason we had to leave from the ues and fucking DRIVE. crosstown. on a friday. at 6pm. straight thru freakin time square with its gazillion tourists. on top of rush hour. even though the schedule said 8pm, the tickets said the event starts at 7.30 and i wanted to be there early to see the warmups and at 7.02 we were still not even inside lincoln tunnel ffs! i was FUMING and ready to jump outta the car and start yelling at the other cars to get a goddamn fucking move on i got places to be people to see! just ugh. so frustrating. the only upside of taking so long to get to the stadium was that by the time we got there my phone was almost 100%...

anyway, finally at 7.25pm we got there and thru all the checks etc (my joke of a miniature purse was shown as an example to another girl with a slightly bigger purse and praised by security for being perfect size which pissed me off because of their dumbass rules it had is smaller then my regular WALLET ffs and it barely even fits my phone so in no way is it a ‘perfect size’ except maybe for dolls or tiny aliens. but they had the stupid clear bag / tiny purse rule in effect and all i cared at that point was getting in so whatever. still, fucking terrorists. obviously also for more important reasons than just being the cause of my having to have a tiny purse but yeah fucking terrorists). 

the stadium was buzzing already. apparently the 7.30 start was for the warmups so perfect for me. this was the view from our seats.

when we got to our seats, the usa team was out already. and the canarinho was interacting with fans. and then brazil came out. 

ney was warming up with coutinho

after stretches, he did some practice shooting. this one didnt go in.

after that the team went back inside and the canarinho came behind the barriers to interact with the fans (photo below especially taken for a.)

time for the teams to come out. for some reason the tunnel was on my side of the stadium but the benches were on the other side and they lined up there for the anthems. (again, for a.)

then the us anthem and, since we dont do things here on a small scale, the flag rolled out was the size of the whole stadium lol

in the first half neymar was playing in front of me. in the beginning of the game i took a few photos and then i stopped because i wanted to watch the game and see with my own eyes not concentrate on the phone... still, here they are

here is the penalty. i didnt catch it go in because i was looking at it happening rather then my phone. i also removed the sound cuz there was screaming when it went in lol. it was a VERY soft penalty btw...

my notes and impressions:

1. it was a friendly so not surprisingly, it was not an edge-of-your-seat game. still brazil dominated the crap out of the usa team. the difference in class and quality was glaringly obvious.

2. it was strange not supporting my country’s team. but only when i thought about it. otherwise my soccering heart belongs to brazil 100%, without a doubt.

3. watching a game live vs tv: both have pros and cons. again, after watching every week on tv, seeing these guys live in person is simply incredible. just absolutely surreal. like, they are moving, running, kicking right in front of you. you can hear the ball being kicked. feel the tension. see what they are doing without the ball. watch their interactions away from the camera. feel the power of the crowd. its just so much more immersive. at the same time, watching at home the curated game content is... convenient. you get closeups. you get facts from the commentators. your bathroom is nearby (i did carefully time my liquid intake that day to avoid venturing into stadium bathrooms and thank god it worked lol). so imo, watching a game on tv is not really that much worse then watching it live. i always felt like i am getting a completely filtered version on tv and it is filtered but it is not horrible. yes, you are missing out on stuff but its not a total loss.

4. the stadium was about 40% full, 32k of 82k capacity. but it felt more like 2/3, probably because on the other side many sections were not even open so most everyone attending was spread out in one long side and the two goal sides.

5. brazil fans were out strong! i’d say about 70% of the people were brazil fans, and of those about 90% had on brazil jerseys. yellow galore lol. the usa fans were constantly chanting but when the brazil fans decided to make the effort they drowned them out easily and completely!

6. the usa fans were in the section behind one of the goals. throughout most of the game i thought oh cute they are constantly singing their hearts out supporting their clearly outplayed loosing team. then they did iceland’s viking chant. yes, it is a cool chant but its iceland’s. idk why so many have been plagiarizing it! first portugal did it in the wc, then i saw another, and now the american outlaws (the usa ultras)... let iceland have its thing people. i did not appreciate it but no big deal. BUT then they did something that pissed me off - few minutes before neymar was substituted in the 80 min they chanted fuck neymar. i was not best pleased to say the least! lick sweaty balls jealous motherfuckers!

7. we did a wave that went around the stadium like 4 times!

8. there was a small group of 13-14yo girls right behind us that whenever ney touched the ball or looked our way screamed ‘neymaaaarrr, neymaaaaarrrrrrrr, vaiiiiiii, vai neymaaaaaaarrrrrrrr’. one girl in particular was especially shrill and vociferous in her dedication to ney. no sense of decorum whatsoever lol. my bf was smirking at me and was like why dont you go sit with them. i on the other hand was thinking that while i wouldnt go sit with them, if some of my tumblr girls were here.... well those girls wouldnt even know what hit them!

9. i would definitely go to a game again! 

10. while the seats we had were really good, i wish there was an option to be even closer and still see the whole pitch. then again, for me it would probably only qualify as ‘close enough’ if im allowed to run along the sidelines lol. but then i wont really be able to watch the game. (hey maybe i can hang from the skycam hahaaaa!). yes, i am a neymar fan but i am also a fan of the game so i want both. i did not have any input in the choice of these seats but i think it was a good trade off - the closest where you can both see the guys and actual game. if i have to pick the tickets for the next game (hopefully i will go again some time!), i would be tempted by the lower levels but the barriers are pretty high so... i would probably go for the same - second level first row.

11. there was a guy sitting next to me with his date and he was trying to be all knowledgeable and impress the girl but half the stuff he was telling her was wrong lol! he kept pointing to douglas costa and telling her its firmino. i was cracking myself up listening to him talk complete bullshit but with such grand authority about technical game stuff.

12. at some point a loose ball ended up into the stands, some guy caught it, and 2 min later security came to take it away from him :/ why not let the guy just keep the ball?!? stupid. if it was me, i’d have made a fuss, maybe pretended that it hit me in the face and threatened to sue the stadium cuz they have not ensured the spectators’ safety or some such crap lol. see if they dont let me keep it to avoid a lawsuit.

13. the canarinho (for a.) - he was really great! interacting with the fans, dancing, hugging fans. really a fantastic mascot and absolute joy to watch! during the halftime he was out on the pitch, doing keepie uppies (in those shoes too!!! showing his brazilianness lol), and kicking balls into the stands

14. i was totally impressed by neymar. it was just so obvious how good he is and no, not because i am biased, which i admittedly am. i expected him to be good, duh, but to see it so clearly was amazing. he is not a fluke, he is the real deal. he stands out among even such quality peers as the rest of brazil nt! just something in the way he interacts with the ball, the way he moves, ‘sees’ his teammates without looking, turns on a dime, does the unexpected. i dont think he ‘thinks’ or ‘calculates’ at all his moves or that it is just a lot of practice, i think it is pure instinct in the moment, i.e. phenomenal natural talent. even though this was not one of his greatest games for sure, he just looked... special and different from the rest. most of the brazil players were displaying their clearly high quality but there is just something unique in the way neymar plays. even if you dont know who he is, what teams are playing, anything at all, you’d still pick him out and know that there is something extraordinary about this guy. if you unfocus your eyes so you see just all same yellow shirt figures, you would still be able to pick out which one is neymar. he did a bit of his skills and tricks and of course i wished he had done more. what i took away from watching him play live was that, in this average game, he looked as good playing live as he has in the past when i have watched his great games on tv. i dont know why. but watching neymar play live was an experience of its own. it felt like his average ‘live’ performance is as good as his great ‘tv’. i cant even imagine what it would be like watching one of his great performances live. while i dont feel im loosing so much watching games on tv vs live as mentioned above, i definitely feel that watching neymar in particular play live is on another level and im missing out when i watch him on tv instead of live. he is absolutely worth the price of admission. i was so disappointed in him for his wc antics but thats in the past now, and i have been reminded how right it feels to be his fan, not just for the nice things he does for kids/charity, his fun personality (and lets not forget the good looks, and oh boy they are SO GOOD lol) but his undeniably outstanding talent on the pitch. his game is just incredible. i hope he keeps healthy. i hope he gets his temper under control not just for a few games but for good. and i pray he always has the freedom to shine like he rightfully can. i am rooting for him to get the appreciation and acknowledgement he deserves, unadulterated by behavioral issues or personal drama.

ok, imma stop now. this post is huge, even by my standards.