#framing behaviour
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– What's keeping us apart ain't even real, your daddy, his religion, it's got nothing to do with us. – It's not just his, it's mine too. I've got the same spirit in me, why don't you see that?
Alice Englert and Walton Goggins in Them That Follow (2019), dir. Dan Madison Savage & Brittany Poulton
#them that follow#them that follow 2019#alice englert#film stills#walton goggins#film frames#film lovers#screencaps#cinephile#i'm still so salty about this film i needed to make an edit out of it lol#shitty things i do for love#they really tricked me into thinking it's gonna be 'the ballad of jack and rose' but make it *more* cultish american gothic#but in fact it's just a boring mediocre piece of nothing#you CAN'T you're not ALLOWED to cast my favorite people to play fatherhusband daughterwife cult leaders#and then chicken out at the last minute because you're not bold enough to sink your teeth into thought provoking topics#it's just ... sad and wrong and sad#it could have been it SHOULD HAVE BEEN such a poetic tragic metaphor for a child x parent indispensable separation#especially considering an absence of a mother and how the main character feels proud to take her place as the lady of the house#that is obvioisly delicious and semi unhinged but at the same time absolutely expected#because of her religious beliefs and her dad's behaviour????#or they could have gone with the dark fairy tale elements and make it 'the marsh king's daughter' au or whatever#'freedom! sunshine! to the father! i remembered my own father in the sunlit land of my home! my life and my love!' you know#BUT NO. what a waste of walton goggins and alice englert brilliance#fathers and daughters man fathers and daughters#a love of the rack and the screw and i said i do i do#the rejects the eccentrics the loners the lost and forgotten cinema club
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The fact that his brothers thought Fives was losing his sanity while they had no good concept of what delusions are… had to be so fucking. heartbreaking for them.
#imagine someone acts so fucking differently and you have no idea what it is or why#and you have NO frame of reference for what the hell is even going on#they haven’t seen this behaviour before! they’ve seen anxiety they’ve seen fear!#but they have more than likely never seen someone lose sense of reality like that before!!#(sure he actually knows the real truth but they don’t know that)#but yeah the point is theh want to help but theh don’t know what’s happening#normally I focus on fives when I think about that arc but rn I’m just thinking about rex.#arc trooper fives#captain rex#star wars: the clone wars
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That post credit scene for episode 3 is so simple yet hopeful and moving. Just a view from underwater towards the surface, towards light and air.
Towards life.
#I’m happy for Ed but I’m also very sad for him#I’m not defending his behaviour towards the crew and Izzy#I still can’t collect my thoughts on the whole gravy basket#it hits home too much#i guess there are plenty of people who have already analysed every second of every frame#our flag means death#ofmd s2#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers
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Something about these two scenes being in the same episode makes me feral
#it's women opening up to women. and the reflection of their positions in the harem are complementary even if they come from#very different situations#but there's also a lot that can be said about nigar and hatice shutting mahi & sadika off. their need of maintain the order/ status quo#even if a they're partly empathetic of what both of them are living#is very telling of the positions they occupy in the harem. one's a privileged sultana that shouldn't be getting that close with slaves#the other a kalfa that has to ensure the good behaviour of the concubines/ servants and therefore their chastity too#and also very telling of their internalized mysogony ofc#rewatching mc#sadika hatun#mahidevran sultan#nigar kalfa#hatice sultan#magnificent century#muhtesem yuzyil#rape mention tw#(in the tags but still)#that being said i ofc don't condone the way the rape was shown#okay this post is kinda dumb the scenes aren't even that similar estructurally but what can i say it just stuck to me that this episode#has a very empathetic view of women's positions and i think both scenes help to show it as ofc nigar & hatice aren't framed as right imo#also bonc*k dies! yaay
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I'm never going to get over "The Bands Break Up" and the fact that Stormer has a framed picture of herself and Kimber on her bedside table that she sighs at wistfully.
#Jem and the Holograms#Stimber#Stormer#I admit that I don't really have a 'bestie' so maybe this is normal best gal pals behaviour#I wonder if Kimber has the same picture framed in her room
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Heat Has Never Felt So Good [Levi | Cadet! Reader]
Silence - heavy, taut with tension like a guitar's string and gelid in the middle of the most scorching summer heat the generations had encountered - such silence was a bringer of dreaded rejection and shameful humility. Struggling to stay erect and stoic subsequently to the inappropriate suggestion you'd voiced a moment prior, you observed the desk before you with excessive fascination in spite of the painful brightness it reflected straight into your eyes. The cool air in the office hindered not the nervous beads of sweat in their journey along your temple and so they travelled, inexorably reminding you of the reason for their unwanted presence.
Your diffident gaze adroitly slid over to the figure sitting behind the desk you'd considered your saving grace mere seconds ago - the man with his slicked-back ebony hair whose natural response to the heat outside was nowhere to be seen. Levi was staring at you, silent and frowning, as his fingers soundlessly held the collar of his button-up shirt. The window behind his back was closed in order to preserve the room's blissful temperature but you could still hear the birds twittering outside, innocent chirps mashing with the anguished groans of cadets in the training field - cadets whose pained calls you were supposed to be apart of. Instead, you'd been summoned to the Lance Corporal's office, admonished for your poor performance following the coming of summer and prompted to offer a suitable explanation.
In truth, everybody's performance had been severely affected by the heat, but your case was exceptional because you were contending for a place on the Special Operation's Squad and such a show of inexplicable weakness was a big chink in the seemingly perfect armour of reliability and potential you'd created for yourself. Levi wouldn't make such a chink part of his squad and, despite having won his sympathies as a person, you had no way of softening the merciless nature of his role as your strict superior. So you'd tried to explain with as much dignity as possible that your disgraceful mistakes were a result of sleep deprivation, which, in turn, was caused by the terrible heat. Since early childhood, you'd shown signs of susceptibility to hot weather but this summer had evidently hit you harder than any other.
Levi had glared in a rather condescending way before questioning if your only problem was truly the lack of proper sleep, to which you'd nodded your head, recklessly adding that he had no way of relating to your experience since the stone walls of his office and personal quarters shared no similarities with the dorms' wooden edifice and its incapability to ward off the summer heat. Then, to his sarcastic question of 'what can be done about that?', you'd flippantly stated that a good sleep in a cold bed such as his would appear to be the perfect remedy - in fact, knowing he seldom slept in his quarters, maybe he could lend you them for the summer weeks to come.
And here lay the moment of truth, tugging at the painful silence and rushing it out of the closed window as you fearfully eyed the ebony-haired superior and his oddly slovenly appearance - his white cravat carelessly draped around his neck, the first three buttons of his shirt undone and its entirety untucked - the uncanny negligence made the orderly man look quite unlike himself. Maybe his attire had wrongly led to you believe his character would also bear a particular change for the better. His ashen hues glared but his furrowed brow briefly twitched as a reluctant sigh slipped past his pouting lips.
"... so be it. If sleeping in my bed will affect your skills positively I'll be escorting you back here after dinner this very evening." The cold voice left no place for objection, filling your whole body with heavenly alleviation and colourful butterflies, flapping their wings in exultation. You saluted, a dopey smile on your lips as your mind attempted to dispel the overwhelming feeling of complete and utter transfixion holding power over it.
"I hope you'll give me some time to collect my belongings beforehand." The tremulous timbre of your voice didn't go unnoticed by your superior, who was obviously set on presenting your wistful self with his point of view. Both, as was to be expected, differed greatly and while yours had been a plan of action borne of embarrassment meant to excuse your imminent appearance in his personal quarters, his had committed to the idea of your residence and taken the liberty of being as efficient and prompt as possible.
"There would be no need, I'll get them." The curt statement made your clenched fist flinch in startlement as the ebony-haired male gazed down at the papers on his desk after giving your wide eyes a good calculating look. "Dismissed. I'm certain the remainder of your training will be flawless, seeing as you've secured your good night's sleep." The latent derision holding hands with his stern command unfailingly managed to chip away at your armour additionally. Your brows furrowed in repressed defiance as the natural compliant response you had to speak struggled to come into being, making the male curiously glance at your hesitant countenance.
"... it will, sir." Shamefully dropping your gaze to the ground at your feet, you turned to the exit and frowned all the way to the training field, unaware of the involuntary sigh Levi's lips had delivered at the fading sound of your footsteps. Slender fingers coming to pinch the bridge of his nose, the Lance Corporal angrily berated his stupidity in a low voice full of disappointment as the image of your childish pout kept surfacing. The next five minutes he spent leaning back against his chair and muttering curses at himself, with the occasional fatigued sigh making an appearance. Once he concluded nothing inappropriate would come of your temporary stay in his quarters he resumed his work, spitefully clicking his tongue twice as often for the rest of the afternoon.
His hand prompted you to walk through the door with a gentle motion that made your lips purse in rigidity so inane it would've drawn laughter from a corpse. You looked at the interior of the superior's room with hardly masked zest, nightwear clenched by your fidgety fingers as Levi closed the door behind himself. A floorboard gave a moaning creak when you made a small step forth, making your brows knit in halting uncertainty as your shoulders tensed, intimidated by the big bed under the window you were to sleep in. It was strange, you could feel the trickling sweat down the back of your neck though you were well aware it wasn't there - a vaporous phantom that made goosebumps complain in their wake down the length of your arms.
"You won't receive an official invitation, (L/N)." The deep voice made your shoulders jump as the stoic male opened the wardrobe in the corner of the relatively empty room and took a simple cotton shirt and pants from its insides. You caught a glimpse of three separate shelves, each of which was stacked with clothes painted in different representatives of the colour spectrum - white, grey and black respectively. A pair of piercing ashen hues bore into your orbs before their owner snorted in mild amusement. "I'm taking a shower. You may use it as an opportunity to change and tuck yourself in since I'm not your mother and I don't plan on babying you."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry for the inconvenience." You forced out as calmly as was feasible, the tinge of guilt coming out raw and genuine. You heard the short male mutter something under his breath as his cold gaze scrutinized your diffident countenance, but he didn't address you directly and you did your best to not provoke him. The tips of your ears were left to burn in embarrassment when he closed the bathroom door with a small click and you silently marvelled at the plain furnishing of his personal quarters. It was like they belonged to everybody and nobody at the same time - the wooden floor was equipped only with the bare necessities: a bed, a wardrobe, a small chair tucked into the corner with a lit candle sitting on it and a shelf buckling under the weight of the thick books on top.
You glanced at the door of the adjoined bathroom when the shower started running, then your hasty fingers began struggling with your uniform straps. You changed into your nightwear - a comfortable short-sleeved shirt and a plain pair of shorts - and curiously stepped towards the frail bookshelf, ignoring the bed altogether though it was the biggest benefit you could draw from this situation. (E/c) hues fervently flickered from title to title, devouring the letters with utmost vehemence as your fingertips gently glided over the spine of the seemingly oldest book, feeling the dents of each character with longing. Your mind went back to the busy training routine that prevented the indulgence of your favourite hobby and you wondered when the Corporal had found time for these books.
"For once I hoped you wouldn't live up to my expectations." Your hand withdrew from the book like it had stung your fingertips when, in reality, the abrupt sound of the male's voice had been what truly pricked your senses. You swivelled, guiltily clasping your blameful hands behind your back. "I felt you might snoop around." Levi had showered and changed, but even the little droplets of water that dampened the towel draped around his neck couldn't disperse the shame nestled in the centre of your chest. "Go ahead and look, you'll hardly find anything of interest." The dismissive whisk of his hand, paired with the disinterested snort dripping past his lips made your brows furrow in uncertainty. You hadn't exactly gone looking through his underwear but the heat creeping up your neck told you touching the spine of that book had been a crime way worse.
"I'm really sorry, sir." Your muttered apology made his frown deepen as his orbs locked with yours, so acute you felt as if some part of you had gotten cut. The pang in your chest grew in intensity at the sight of his harsh glare but then he blinked, sighed and when his eyelids lifted the anger your naive apology had induced was gone. His grey hues dropped to the floor and you watched a stray water drop hesitantly trace the outline of his strong jaw prior to taking a leap once having reached his chin. He, in turn, watched it hit the wooden floorboard under his bare feet.
"Drop the formalities, (L/N). I feel like a predator when you call me 'sir' in my own bedroom." It wasn't a snarl per se but the self-directed indignation it contained was heard, though unspoken and left unaddressed. Levi left the room before you could respond and you breathed a sigh of relief upon detecting the shuffle of papers coming from his office. Your shoulders relaxed and your guilty stance gave way to a calmer pose but the pang in your chest remained heavy and stubborn.
You sat at the edge of his pristine bed and gave his last command a few minutes of deep thought. Calling him by his first name wasn't something you'd ever considered despite the fact you felt some misplaced affection for him, not only as your mentor but as a member of the opposite sex as well. Now you were going to be sleeping in his bed and having to use his first name because he clearly disapproved of his official title - your adolescent brain was sizzling with bad kinds of thoughts you weren't supposed to have about your superior.
As a result, you laid your head against his cool pillow with a red face and a twitchy conscience. Burning up and wishing you could pinch yourself awake from this surreal experience, you revelled in the pleasant scent enveloping your body. Your mind struggled to let go of the image of Levi's narrow eyes glaring at the floor in an unfathomable manner, so you tried to focus your thoughts on the distracting fragrance oozing from the cool pillowcase you'd subconsciously burrowed your nose into. You were sure you knew what it was but the exact piece of information had slipped past your store of knowledge and was currently dawdling uselessly around in your head. You drifted off to sleep and it came to you just as your brain had decided to pull the plug on your consciousness - lavender. It was lavender.
Your first night in the Corporal's bed didn't quite live up to its inappropriate label. The frowning male spent about five hours doing paperwork only to then doze off in his chair, where the irritating rays of the rising sun found him less than three hours later, frowning even in his sleep. Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him unlatch the window in his office with a creak and your body instinctively flinched in response to the unfamiliar surroundings your pupils observed in the golden sunlight. Then it came back to you in a hasty wave and your tense muscles gradually relaxed, allowing you to sit up and look out the window to your left with the disoriented gaze of a person who'd slept more than well. Yes, as you boasted later to your Corporal, a seven-hour slumber in his bed had been immensely refreshing, to the point you swore you'd show him even better results than you normally did during your training.
The doubt his features had shown in the beginning started to fade - with an inward tinge of pride at that - around the second week of your deal. Your dark circles made way for healthy patches of skin on day five, your tired waddle was gone by the first week and your previous glory came back by the thirteenth day - the tripping down the halls and during laps, the lousy job at cleaning, the slow manner of speech, the shortened attention span during lectures and the visibly worsened state of your reaction time and physical strength in close combat training were no more. The 3DMG exercises were the only presentable part of your resume that didn't suffer any drastic change due to its location under the shade of the trees past the sunlit training fields, but the gradual increase of productivity and stamina you went on to show put them in the same group as your lame mistakes.
Your poor social skills during missions and your inept way of always freezing in place when you thought you were going to deal critical damage to an opponent stayed, but Levi was determined to draw them into a corner and exterminate them - similarly to how a person squished a bug with his foot and looked at the sole of his shoe with abhorrence right after. As your mentor, he had graced the sole of his leather boot with such a look during the budding of springtime after he'd gotten rid of your annoying habit of recklessly storming into battle headfirst, overzealous and a tad bit conceited. Nowadays you occasionally allowed yourself a certain amount of arrogance but it was a controlled exertion of confidence which stopped eliciting anger from your peers, which, in turn, strengthened the trust and reliability you shared with them.
In this case, it took some time but soldiers slowly came to notice the odd change in your skills - something inevitable since they'd watched your abilities deflate until your performance put you in last place amongst every soldier in the building and now they bore witness to grace, strength and agility so unlike your miserable skills up until a week ago it was uncanny. Suspicion rose until it became overwhelmingly obvious, but nobody dared question your bizarre transformation. It contrasted the rest of the soldiers so brightly some superiors approached Levi in order to seek permission to recruit you for their own squads. In all six cases that took place, Humanity's Strongest Soldier would glare, snarl and prohibit it with such vigour it made four out of six Squad Leaders flinch.
"She's contending for a place on my squad," he'd almost growl in that cold voice of his, "so you can recruit her when I say she's unfit to be part of it, which, considering her performance, might not happen at all."
In a world where he hadn't already let you sleep in his bed, you'd probably faint upon hearing how vehemently he defended his position as your mentor and the spot in his squad you might just come to fill by the end of summer. But in this world - this blessed, albeit titan-infested, world - where you slept in his bed and saw him half-naked once every three days you forgot all about flaunting your skills and only focused on the thought of making him proud. Praise didn't matter so long as he kept scrutinizing you with that calculating gaze of his yet never uttered a single reprimand. It didn't matter in moments when he woke you for breakfast and accepted the tea you made for him in the evening with a grateful nod. No compliment in this world would equal the significance of the timid approval in his ashen hues each time you bashfully added his name at the end of a sentence. It wasn't praise you were chasing ever so desperately since your enlistment in the Corps - it was him.
A kind of meticulous routine came into being by the third week you spent in the comfort of the Lance Corporal's cool bed. Whoever woke up first - which mostly happened to be Levi - woke the other when it was time for breakfast. He had his morning shower and you changed into your uniform, then you swapped rooms and whilst he got dressed, you combed your hair and brushed your teeth (with the toothbrush he'd required you bring from your dorm). Each afternoon you showered after training (because he'd have you sleep on the floor if you weren't thoroughly cleaned), had dinner and crept up the staircase to the ebony-haired male's room, supplying every superior you bumped into with the same excuse of being called into the Corporal's office. Sometimes you went out of your way to make tea for him, which was something he was openly appreciative of - especially on nights he had more paperwork than usual.
You also came to establish several unspoken rules during your coexistence: cleanliness was above all for Levi and the moment you disrespected that you'd receive harsher treatment for the remainder of the day - the same, however, went for your personal space. Each rule was learned the hard way - with you running fifty laps for seemingly no reason when you left the bed unmade one morning and Levi coming dangerously close to getting roundhouse kicked into the wall when he walked out of the bathroom a bit earlier. A few others declared that you could get away with leaving the bed unmade if you delivered Levi's finished paperwork to the Commander before waking him up and that, by letting you read his books, Levi could spare himself some of your unprofessional humour the following day.
There were other little things too, but they weren't exactly rules - just periodical occurrences. On nights when the short male left the window open, you'd sneak into his office and drape a thin blanket over him so the cool night wind wouldn't make his muscles cramp. Some nights he spent in bed with you, lying on his back and struggling to keep his eyes closed as you calmed your erratic heartbeat and feigned sleep. Some evenings you indulged in conversing - the topics were both diverse and multitudinous, but the use of his name instead of his title remained constant. Quiet embarrassment painted the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks in hot red and you often caught Levi watching you during those moments with a gaze you were yet to decipher. There was something about it, in the candlelight, that made your heart clench - something he pretended not to have noticed himself, because it was too soft to be him, too improper to be allowed and too genuine to be overlooked.
Those few summer weeks, when you weren't busy pretending not to be dying of the heat outside, your thoughts were dedicated to becoming stronger so you could stay at Levi's side and your heart was overcome by an ecstatic feeling akin to that adolescent love you hadn't had the chance to experience prior to this moment. The earnest admiration that had rooted itself into your heart as a child grew a slim stem when you enlisted in the Corps, slowly morphing into the deep attachment of a determined student that would always follow their mentor. There were buds now and, despite having missed the season, they were blooming - how beautiful that feeling of love - inside your chest, blooming and screaming to be let out. You couldn't let them out. That flower - so aromatic, beautiful and pure - would be considered ugly by everybody else, ugly and improper. Maybe even by the very Corporal who'd seeded it.
At night you'd lay in his bed, tangled in the sheets and pressing your twitching face into his pillow. You'd toss and turn, chest constricting painfully at the thought of the frail flower and its untimely existence, and you'd think of your Corporal sleeping in his chair, imminent ache awaiting his muscles as he furrowed his brows at the nightmares and the memories that were by no means any less horrible. You'd think of him and your shut eyes would sometimes sting with unshed tears, then you'd force your thoughts elsewhere but the smell of lavender would keep them in place, desperate and scorching. And somewhere inbetween them, tangled and struck motionless, stood the image of the flower having bloomed in your chest - frail and small. A stalk of lavender.
"You're ogling." Levi's sharp statement made your shoulders jump in fright as you averted your gaze from his bare back with a pout. The earnest - albeit pouty - 'I'm sorry' that slipped past your lips into the still air clearly hindered the process of him getting dressed because the black shirt he'd picked hung from his slender fingers as he turned to look at you, sitting on the bed with one of his books on your lap. "You're not going to deny it?" The question drove your eyes away from his but you kept your face impassive, achieving success through months of trained experience and turmoil. Only the nervous flickering of your orbs betrayed the feeling of embarrassment that had crept into the crevices of your mind. Admittedly, your superior was far from being unattractive, but you wondered if he was aware of it. Even if he wasn't, giving him compliments would be considered inappropriate. Still---
"It's not like you're ugly, sir--- I mean, Levi." Your clumsy correction made his momentary glare fade but the unmistakable sensation of his hues on you remained, austere and anticipant. You glanced up, hastily avoiding the sight of his abdomen and chest to deter the heat from spreading through your body before it reached your face. "Also, I was looking at the marks, nothing else." The brownish bruises adorning his torso, sitting where his uniform straps usually did, gave the impression of something painful - maybe something you wouldn't be able to handle daily. Levi made a few steps forward until he was standing in front of you and you were struggling to sustain eye contact with his cold ashen hues.
"They're just permanent discolouration of the skin. Pity is unneeded." He'd seen it on your face, maybe in the furrow of your brow or the flare of your nostrils or the unintended curl of your fingers, he'd witnessed the sad admiration and he'd called it pity because giving it another name would lead to questions you wouldn't want to answer. You didn't dare dip your head or do as much as nod in understanding, but something had changed in your orbs; something that made Levi snort in mild exasperation. "They don't even hurt." He declared in a cold voice as you blinked, youthful forehead crinkling with doubt and scepticism. "Do you wish to confirm it?"
The fleeting confusion that clouded your uncertain gaze at the inquiry was all Levi needed to see in order to take advantage of the moment and act. His fingers grabbed your hand and lifted it to his chest, quickly coming to sense the alerted tense of your muscles - similar to the involuntary flinch of a person touching something he'd been prohibited from ever coming in contact with. Too shocked to offer resistance, you felt your palm rest over his skin and your mind devoted all coherent thoughts it could produce to the smoothness of it paired with the firmness of the muscle underneath and, of course, panic. Your engines were going into overdrive but once they short-circuited you felt calm enchantment grasp your senses, guiding your fingers up and down the bruises so you could trace their outlines and feel the diminutive dent of his skin.
"How many years did it take for them to form?" Your head tilted to the side as Levi relinquished his grasp on your wrist, letting your fingertips roam with odd composure. You were wholly enthralled by the feeling of it - this closeness - intimate and unplanned. The scent of lavender his body exuded and the lilac colour mingling with the brown - a bruise that would never heal. The male's reaction to your touches was absent on the surface, but your fingertips graced his skin with such light tenderness he found the contact alien. Having been deprived of gentleness his whole adult life, Levi thought the ginger movement of your dainty fingers strange, but not repulsive.
"About three." The low husk of his voice was something neither of you seemed to acknowledge, too hypnotised to process a detail of such subtlety. Gentle grew into compassionate, fear obtained courage - and the wholeness of your palm caressed Levi's chest, up to his collarbone. Your gaze was still hazy when you craned your neck to look at his hues - and when you did they hit you as oddly soft, a muted graphite having lost its conscious glimmer in the dim candlelight. Taken aback by the peculiar change in your superior's eyes, you felt your hand pause in its journey over his pale skin, just having arrived at the crook of his neck in its daring spontaneity.
"Most cadets surely don't live enough to get them." His skin was burning hot under your oversensitive fingers. Hot and damp from the shower he'd taken. Maybe the dampness was what quelled your advance and broke the spell. Or maybe it was the smell of lavender - reassuring and painful - that told you this was too good to have been happening. It might've been the strange grey as well - such an ugly hue, lacking brightness and resolve, lacking gelidity and austerity, lacking everything you'd fallen for. It was the same hue that kept your hand in place only so it could sear it seconds later, so abruptly you felt pain when there was no source.
"Make sure you're part of the minority then." You couldn't stop thinking of how you disliked the unreadable look in his eyes and the one yours were very eager to reciprocate despite not knowing of the exact meaning it bore. For a very small second you could hear him telling you to survive so you could be with him, live and anticipate the moment when he would finally profess his feelings for you, wait and strive for strength and approval until the flower in your chest made its violet blossoms choke you to death - far from the noble demise every soldier looked up to. One moment you heard all that and the next it was nothing - just the muted hue of his orbs and the scorching feeling of his skin. And the words were a rueful phantasm that left your eyes wide and your lips pursed.
"With my performance, I don't think I'll have a problem." Your hand was at once withdrawn, so sharply it made him blink in mild surprise and the relentless glare returned to its rightful place - glimmering with intelligence and something else, something perturbed by the shameful predecessor of its existence. Your Corporal was back and though your mind leapt with jubilation there was a little part of your heart that was a smidge too discontented to witness the detached frown weaving its way back unto his handsome features. He made a step back. Then another one. His ebony locks swayed as he turned his back to the bed and approached the door, latent disgruntlement hidden along the edges of his clenched jaw.
"Just don't get too cocky. You're still a brat." His steps were heavy but his firm voice was a tad bit lighter. His hand settled on the doorknob when he remembered he was still shirtless. Quick to fix that, Levi snorted with condescension before scratching the side of his neck which you immediately recognised as the exact spot your hand had been touching mere moments ago. Your brows furrowed when the door slammed shut after him, leaving you solitary and bewildered - an emotion that had less to do with his out-of-character moment of mellow approachability and more with the perplexing contrast between his words and actions.
For the next two hours neither of you slept and while he sat at his desk - stiff shoulders, furrowed eyebrows and angrily protruded bottom lip - writing and trying his best not to think or make inward inquiries that would be vouchsafed no answer, you lay on the bed - tangled thoughts, clenched heart and sad eyes - with the book in your hands and the question 'why am I sleeping in your bed then?' echoing inside your head. And, much like how your problem was not graced with a solution, his own compulsive list of questions received no satisfactory reply. It didn't make sense - not one fragment of it all - but, as both of you were yet to learn and acknowledge, nothing did when one was under the influence of love.
Some mornings were familiar, natural and lacking in discomfiture. Normally, you woke up, got dressed and went your way, with Levi not sparing you an additional glance, but the longer you stayed, the warmer the candle on top of the chair in the corner felt and the mornings after - all the fresher. In those moments you looked at the sky with new eyes - a bright pair that saw an oddly clear future. Nothing weighted your heart down and your shoulders were never slouched, the flower in your chest was singing. Levi, too, appeared a tad bit softer. He would make a calm entrance with a resting pair of brows and a sharp gaze, and sometimes a cup of steaming coffee would be clutched by his pale fingers.
"You're such a goddamn nuisance." The ebony-haired male had already put on his uniform. You'd slept through his morning shower and the distinct smell of fresh caffeine had made your lids lift some minutes later. He was crouching by the bed and the bored expression sitting on his face failed to convey the exasperation his words had been so desperate to voice. You took the cup from his hand with a grateful smile, a smidge too lopsided to be described as beautiful. With ice rimming his grey hues, the male gave you a warning look and you took a sip from the beverage with a contented sigh.
"Thank you, Levi." You observed the nonchalant pout of his lips when he stood up and turned the other way, just in time to miss the endearing adoration in your orbs as they gazed up at his noble profile. An inaudible sigh escaped your lungs while your superior busied himself with his uniform straps, reminding you of the brownish bruises clinging to his torso under the white shirt he wore. That, in turn, called forth the date you'd seen yesterday in the callendar you had in your room. Autumn was coming, as the first week of September dictated, and with it - the end of your deal with Levi. Your flawless performance no longer required the comfort of his cold bed, which made a prolonged stay in his room pointless and negated the improvement in your relationship. Back to square one, as your peers would say.
"I'm supervising today's training session so we leave in twenty." His imperative voice brought you back to reality, where he was standing by the wardrobe with folded arms and a harsh frown and you were still in bed, enveloped by the enticing smell of coffee and lavender. You sat up with a small snort and nodded your head obediently, warm fingers locked around the cup in their hold. The air of responsibility and promise you wore did nothing to soften your superior's sharp features or melt the pungent shimmer of his hue as he scrutinised the tangled mess your bed hair was.
"Roger that." You saw his eyes narrow in mild suspicion when your gaze averted from the coffee you were holding but there was no spite along the crease between his drawn brows so you concluded you hadn't gotten in trouble with your carefree response; it was so unlike the salute you would always perform at the beginning of your acquaintanceship with the cold ebony-haired male it made your heart clench in bashful shame and guilty delight at the same time. Was this the beginning of an actual friendship or just a strange exception in your superior-subordinate relationship? Such a baffling concept - to befriend the man you felt so much for.
"Get that shitty smile off your face unless you wish to be running laps in the sun." The abrupt appearance of Levi's biting tone brought awareness to your senses, making you realise your facial muscles had adapted themselves to a joyous grin - genuine and peculiar in the eyes of a person who saw no reason whatsoever behind its existence. You let out a weak chuckle and nodded your head once more, to which he clicked his tongue in visible dissatisfaction prior to fleeing the room in order to focus on the little paperwork he hadn't finished the previous night.
You sat on his bed some more, taking small sips from the coffee he'd brought you and struggling to bite back a smile. Two cubes of sugar and no milk - just how you liked it. You never told him that was how you liked it, though. Unable to dismiss the warm voice of the aromatic flower caressing the insides of your ribcage, you didn't think much of the man's earlier vexation and thus missed how its cause wasn't your unjustified happiness but the concerning reaction it evoked in him. Glimmering hues matching your own, Levi stared at the blank sheet of paper he was yet to touch and the only thing he could feel but couldn't comprehend was the worrying beat of his heart. Too young for problematic palpitations and too old for love - that was what Levi thought of himself - but the image of your smile refused to leave him until the very moment you had to leave for your training session.
The same night you were having a hard time falling asleep. Stripes of lightning stained the indigo night sky, creating a contrast that made it seem jet black and eerie. Thunder sounded in the distance, shaking the wet ground and pushing you from one side of the bed to the other with its deafening roar. Big raindrops fell from the endless abyss, splattering closed windows and steady buildings, wetting stone, soil and grass, and singing a chaotic tune that made your body instinctively pull on the thin blankets Levi had supplied you with. Storms had never been your thing but you hardly considered them scary. The weather was clearly undergoing a change for the worse this year, so the conclusion of rain and snow exceeding their expected amount wasn't exactly hard to reach.
You groaned in exasperation when another lightning struck the forest behind the training fields and its echo reached your ears some moments later. You rose from the bed and stared out the window before deciding a glass of water would suffice to distract your fidgety thoughts. You carefully opened the door leading to Levi's office, all the while labouring under the delusion he was sleeping soundly in his chair, too tired to stay awake in spite of the discomfort. Your assumption couldn't have been more wrong. The moment you stepped foot in the office his aquiline gaze found your face and pinned you in place as you closed the door behind yourself, finding it too late to turn back once having been spotted.
"It's late. Why aren't you sleeping?" A cold question and an even more gelid frown to go with it. You shivered, moving to his desk in your nightwear and glancing at the window behind his back before meeting his eyes in the dim candlelight. His ebony locks were slicked back and messy, and his tired expression bore a pair of heavy lids shadowed by intimidating brows. He lacked the energy to scold you for being awake and you knew it. Judging by the unbuttoned shirt hanging from his shoulders and the shocking eyebags clinging to his pallid skin he wasn't in any condition to even think of it as something troublesome. You were well aware he could kick you to the curb no matter how exhausted but that didn't stop you from gaining a diminutive amount of confidence for the time being.
"The rain woke me up and I couldn't fall asleep after that." Your voice sounded small and weak in comparison to the unsynchronised dance of the raindrops against the glass window, but Levi felt no need to command you to speak louder. He liked the timid sound of the tone you used as it was. "Hindering your work process too?" Your curious inquiry led his calculating gaze away from the window in the direction of your drowsy figure as it leaned against the edge of his desk, ponderous and far from graceful in its unsettled condition. You wouldn't consider in a thousand years that Levi would have found you pretty at that moment, with your droopy eyes and dishevelled tresses, and the big shirt slipping off your bare shoulder as your capable hands awkwardly scratched at the back of your head.
"The weather's gone batshit crazy." Was his only retort, drained of both amusement and wit - a noticeable absence which just went to show he was way past the point of joking as well. You nodded your head whilst facing the window and contemplating this year's unpredictable seasonal weather: early bloom of flowers and trees in the spring, blistering summer temperatures and now daily bouts of torrential rain when September's second week hadn't even commenced. Winter would be a dreaded season - ice and blizzards all the way, as far as your imagination went anyway. The white visions of the cold made your brows furrow as you stumbled upon an impending problem of bigger vicissitude that was more deserving of your apprehension.
"Agreed. On the topic, I should probably gather my stuff in the morning." Levi raised a quizzical brow that made your gaze stray back to the window. This was the fourth night you spent in his bed after the coming of rains and lower temperatures. Everybody sensed the weather's scarcely subtle change but you and your mentor were extremely adamant to keep up an oblivious act. At this point, you could take advantage of his reluctance and continue using his bed for the remainder of the year, but that was a line of indecency you weren't willing to cross. "With the autumn rains coming, I think my stay has expired." You explained meekly, dismissing the glare at your temple as a messenger of surprise. Giving simple looks bigger meanings than the ones they possessed was an unhealthy habit you had to rid yourself of.
"Winters are colder here anyways." He responded with an approving hum, making you steal a glimpse of his profile when he turned in his chair to observe the raindrops hitting the window. So immensely handsome, even when overwhelmed by extreme fatigue, as dictated by the curve at the tip of his nose, the outline of his thin lips, the austere beauty of his frown and the sharp edge of his clenched jaw. There was something about the shadow falling over his bloodshot eyes that made their shimmer times brighter and more piercing. It was profusely childish of you to get distracted by such things, but inevitable nonetheless.
"Thank you for humouring me, Levi." Sentences such as “do you want to sleep in my bed then?”, “wood is better at preserving warmth than stone” and “I'd be a fool not to return the favour” lifted their tempting heads at you, expectant gazes awaiting your choice. But you wouldn't make it, mostly because you knew the Corporal would shoot you down, offering immediate refusal in the form of a pointed glare or a stern “no”. So you settled for simply voicing your gratitude, seeing as it was something he would have little reason to glare at you for.
"The least I can do for the newest addition to my squad." Deep voice, cold eyes, nonchalant huff - adjectives you were incapable of matching to their suitable nouns due to the shock that struck your body, abrupt and piercing like a blade. Levi gifted your gaping mouth and uncomprehending hues a brief amused glance. You could swear his lips twitched in restrained mirth - a twitch that would've taken the form of a genuine chuckle had the ebony-haired male been less sombre and strict. "Don't swallow your tongue now. I haven't given the final form to Erwin yet. I was filling it out tonight." It took you some time to negate the bemusement his statement had caused but the result left your body light and your mind full of euphoria.
"So you'll call me 'cadet' from tomorrow onwards?" The crestfallen words were spoken curiously as your chest swelled with gelid pride and warm misplaced disappointment, and you distinctly felt the drop of your stomach when your superior gave a curt nod after a moment of contemplation. "And I go back to addressing you as 'sir'." The flat statement could hardly be labelled a question but its confirmation arrived nevertheless, making a small pang pull at your heart. "That's surprisingly disappointing when I just got used to calling you 'Levi' without flushing in embarrassment." The weirdly unabashed admittance made your Corporal's features contort in mild confusion and you could almost see his lips mouth the word “embarrassment?” as his calculating orbs inspected your countenance for any traces of said emotion. "It's hard to get used to the idea my hero lets me use his first name like I'm not just a child looking at him in the street."
Your bashful explanation - accompanied by a pair of tense shoulders and a nervous flickering gaze - made the male's wan features contort in an abrasive scowl as he turned to face you instead of the window. His lips were pursed so tightly they painted a straight line across the lower half of his visage and his stormy hues shone with additional spite upon locking with yours. Then his voice came out, biting and imperious: "Your hero is too idealised to be worthy of actual worship." The animosity and reproach it held, you realised, were things directed at himself he couldn't help but let slip past the chinks in his own armour. Your tense shoulders slouched as you smiled - more so at this part of him he was unintentionally letting you see than him.
"He's not. He's a flawed middle-aged man with a lot of duties who is often tired. His temper's bad but he's patient when he needs to be. What he lacks he makes up for, with no exceptions. That's what I like about him." Your confession, smooth and steady, lacked the usual shyness with which you often took it upon yourself to talk. The drumming of the rain was a rhythmic background you couldn't rid yourselves of, but neither seemed to mind. All it took was a glance - Levi's silver hues searching for yours in dubious surprise - and your halting resolve to be confident crumbled completely. "I've said too much, I apologise if it made you feel uncomfortable, sir." Downcast gaze, sucked in breath and a lavender stalk tickling the back of your throat. You never saw the man's pallid features adopt a borderline embarrassed expression, nor did you bear witness to the doubtful glances he sent around the room, little messengers to ask all inanimate objects the office contained if he was in his right mind, thinking the things he dared come up with.
"Reverting to that shitty title. Why don't you prove you've learned how to use my fucking name, (L/N)?" He snarled, annoyance slipping through the wall of composure he tried to build. Your shoulders shrunk a size but you didn't distance yourself from him or the desk, you didn't have the heart to do it - not when you felt this warm and this tense, this pleasantly embarrassed. “Keep calling my name,” his enchanting orbs whispered imploringly, and you would try adhering to the command though it was not real. "Mute when speech is required. And red to top it off. Have I embarrassed you?" The redness creeping at the base of your neck and the tips of your ears spread further upwards, tinting the apples of your cheeks crimson and making your pouting lips part in mild defiance.
"A little." The humble admittance made Levi snort as you leaned back against his desk - something he would never allow under normal circumstances - vouchsafing his cold eyes a look of mild suspicion that made his thin eyebrow raise challengingly. Your lips pouted in annoyance, glare almost as half-hearted as his when he reprimanded you during training. "Are you by any chance having fun by doing it?" The flow of your blood circulation was still heavily focused on the sides of your face but that didn't stop you from attempting to intimidate your Corporal, who seemed, besides extremely unimpressed, quite amused by the peculiar show of confidence on your side.
"I don't know. You tell me. Would I let anybody sleep in my bed if I couldn't benefit from it?" There was something - something twinkling - in his orb that drowned out its grey colour and the relatively big size of its pupil. It was something that prevented you from noticing his hue was grey contrary to silver and that his eyes had come to narrow in that way you'd seen some weeks ago during your ogling. It was something pretty - almost mischievous - and it attracted you with its simplistic beauty to the point you couldn't think of anything but the man possessing it. Prosaic as it was, the waxen colour of his complexion was made to look extraordinarily healthy and his tired visage's wan features suddenly seemed handsome and uplifted, the lilac crescents disappeared from their shallow nests and, for a single second, he officially became the one man on this world you had eyes for.
"Despicable," you muttered, overcome by the irrational hypnotising urge to reach out and touch the pale temple at his side with its little throbbing blue vein - a result of all the stress and fatigue. Was that because he'd been filling out forms to finalise your transfer to his squad? Was it because he'd been writing reviews about your performance that justified his choice? Was that terrible expression on his face because of you? Your fingers clutched the edge of the desk until your knuckles turned white - a subconscious reaction the ebony-haired male's observant hues immediately pinpointed. It took him very little to understand a nasty thought had wormed its way into your mind but it would have never occurred to him that it concerned him directly, much less his well-being.
"Make sure you're faultless before judging. The fact I pointed out your ogling only once doesn't mean I didn't notice the rest." Determined to distract you from your worries, Levi opted for the one option he knew would undeniably reap success - embarrassment. His mocking words made crimson blossom over your cheeks and erased the dutiful air of responsibility and morbidity your features often held when not busy portraying another emotion. Levi forced his eyes away from the endearing sight with a scoff, once more telling himself he was too old for this - for you. "Go back to bed now, (L/N). You've entertained me enough for one night." The dismissive whisk of his pale hand prompted your gaze upwards and away from the floor you'd admired ever so fervently a moment ago. Uncertainty gathered in the crease between your brows and your heart clenched as you pushed yourself off his desk, the lavender stalk reaching up to chase the air from your throat and hinder your speech.
"Could I ask you to join me when you finish here?" Insecure and small, close to a bluish colour in the dim lighting and muffled by the loud drumming of the rain, the question hung from the ceiling in the cool air, swaying from side to side in an attempt to attract Levi's attention. The male's lips visibly pursed as he glared at the papers on his desk, eyes not daring to look at you. Mirroring the action, you anticipated his answer with a pleading furrow of your brows, contrary to his displeased one. There was silence - heavy, taut like a guitar's string and burning amidst the first of many gelid nights to come - a silence that was a bringer of feared refusal and shamefully crushed hopes. There would be no miracles this time because your ludicrous inquiry crossed a line neither of you had dared confront prior to this moment.
"No." Strident, succinct and stoic - a proud genuine response that wouldn't push the boundaries of your future active superior-subordinate relationship and thus hinder communication or teamwork. Feelings and intimacy weren't a good mix when you wouldn't be anything more than a mere cadet to him as of the following morning, much less when expressed vocally. And you seemed to be doing that a lot tonight. You fled the office with a despondent nod and not another word, softly closing the door behind yourself. Moping because of a reaction you knew you'd receive was useless, so you ignored the tears gathering in the crevices of your ribcage and lay on the big bed, tucking yourself into the corner by the wall under the window so the rain could block all unwanted notions.
You didn't know how long you lay there, clutching the covers and pressing your knees against the cold stone, but at one point the salty taste of tears you couldn't feel yourself shedding wet your lips and you snorted, engulfed in the dim light of the murky moonbeams and the disappointment clinging to your heavy bones. At the window frame stood the shards of your shattered hope, assembled as to beautifully shine and reflect the glistening raindrops gliding down the glass window. Levi's pillow lay on the opposite side of the bed as you pressed your forehead against the wall, desperate to escape the scent of lavender and the thoughts of its owner it would trigger. Slowly drifting off, you didn't hear the soft click of the door, nor the quiet footsteps coming to a stop at the bedside.
No matter how inconveniently unfortunate your situation, you dreamed of nice things - such as the ones you couldn't have in reality. You dreamed of a training session in the sun, a small word of praise and a tight hug in the shade of a nearby tree, bathing your being in lavender and making your knees give out in alleviation. You pictured a gentle but desperate embrace, and though you knew no words of affection would exit Levi's lips, you heard the echo of his thoughts, telling you he didn't want to let you go. Images of your hands clutching his body for support appeared in your mind, followed by a moment of serene mutual understanding. You both knew this was wrong. But there was no “but” glued to the last word. There was a period instead - a hopeful little end that would allow no further arguments on the topic.
In your dreamland, Levi's fingers were confident as they cupped your face whereas yours were shaking in unbelieving elation on his shoulders. In your dreamland, Levi's hues were silver and glimmering with a burning resolve, a goal in mind. In reality, when the mattress shrunk under his weight you didn't feel the insecure touch of his fingertips caressing your cheek to wipe the tear stains, nor did you connect the smell of lavender coming off his body to anything real. And when he cleared the messy tresses from your face and wrapped his arms around your shivering form you felt the confident embrace of a self-assured man who knew exactly what his feelings for you meant. In your dreams Levi was never insecure, never uncertain, never indecisive - those traits had not once represented him in your eyes. How would you feel knowing they had formed a ball at the back of his throat as he buried his nose in your hair, trying not to choke or recoil in self-contempt because of what he was doing?
That question, much like many others, would be gifted no tangible answer. All you knew, for the time being, was that the malnourished flower in your chest kept singing amidst your misery and would keep blooming until its aromatic petals fell from your lips or its stalk wrapped around your beating heart and crushed it. The next morning you awoke bright and robust, distancing yourself from melancholic notions that would only serve as a distraction. You sat up, noticing the figure sitting at the edge of the bed when it entered your line of sight. The air was heavy with the smell of lavender and fresh coffee, and the sky was an optimistic baby blue. Levi, having sensed your movement, turned to hand you your drink. You took it with a grateful nod and a shy smile, failing to notice the affectionate glimmer in his hues as he watched your visage.
The ebony-haired male didn't speak - not of your recruitment, not of the imminent training you'd face, not of the end of your stay and not of last night's conversation. You sat there, watching the bed hair he never had after sleeping in his chair and the creases over the sheets you'd hardly touched, and your tongue was made of lead but your heart felt light. Your lips pursed as you bit back a smile and sipped your coffee, hiding your conflicted endearment behind the china's thick rim. Levi was, of course, already quite aware of it, but had no intention of shattering your delusions on the topic of his oblivion. So he turned and sat across from you on the bed, drinking the tea he'd gotten for himself from the kitchen and not forgetting to omit the fact he'd slept in for the first time in his adult life. Past the closed window behind your back, the twittering of birds mashed with the faint voices of your comrades having breakfast in the mess hall - faint voices yours was supposed to be a part of.
Skipping breakfast was Levi's last gift to you for the time being - a few peaceful minutes filled with comforting silence and a strange sense of mutual understanding. There were no passionate hugs or declarations of undying love. There was the lingering scent of coffee and black tea, and two pairs of glimmering hues locked on each other as the owners hid their quiet content behind cups' rims and fidgety hands, equally satisfied to have indulged in their selfish urges and unravelled that summer heat had come to reveal itself as the least of their problems. If nothing else, it might've subjected you to a big amount of torture but it also gave you the opportunity to feel closer to Levi and the chance to get to know him before things between you turned professional. Heat had given each of you an opening - you to accept your love and Levi to fall victim to it - so it was a pity neither of you thought of thanking it.
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman imagine#levi ackerman fanfiction#snk x reader#reader insert#if you didn't know already i love building up the feelings and not exploring them inside the frame of a romantic relationship#so yet another open ending for you#i do be very interested in the emotional dynamics#should've studied behavioural sciences or psychology lol#levi is too soft and too in denial as usual#reader here is just a bit melodramatic#but that's the whole point so my metaphors can be employed lol#hope you enjoy
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i love margaret and "the nurses" is an amazing ep but i started laughing this time when poor little meow meow was crying because the subordinates she's always bullying never turned the other cheek
#she doesss make up for it in the end im just.#im too much of a trade unionist to feel bad for her in that moment lol fuck a manager#and i do loveeee margaret when she's the worst <3 would have enjoyed seeing her behaviour framed as pathetic#re: mash
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i love gabriel lorca so much …. like i am deeply, unhealthily obsessed with him… he’s just my little guy…. my blorbo…. i need to put him a glass jar and shake him around vigorously
#katie.txt#i literally have a photo of him on my bedside table in a little heart shaped photo frame… that’s completely normal behaviour right??#yes i know he’s evil and problematic and he’s a naughty little man…. but i wuv him#idk i’m feeling emotional rn… lorca is so important to me 🥺
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sigh reader and dazai fucking atsushi till hes just a crying mess…
Atsushi just gets backshots from reader while trying not to choke on dazais dick
YESS Atsushi is so cute and so insatiable and he looks absolutely beautiful when he cums, arching his back and digging his claws into the mattress, his tail/ears/limbs probably transform and he whines all pretty when you cum inside him...
#my boy..#wish bones weren't COWARDS and gave him a bigger frame#like he's skinny at first and shortish because of bad nourishment but as tje series goes on he fills out and gains muscle#Atsushi and his behaviours around food+body could be so cool to explore..#i digress#he should NOT be a hairless twink tho#leo.spam
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*Snakes an arm around your waist from behind and pulls you into a hug.*
My perfect dear. Having fun are we?
*Presses kisses against your head*
You and your art are both rather phenomenal. Thank you for being yourself.
ghfkjhKHKGJKJGFDDGF,,,,,,,,,!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! a,
UM THANK YOU FOR being here................. >///>
#keej answers#weskerfromthehitgamere#tumblr ask#doodle#i took. 20 minutes to crumple the moment this came in.#then died the entire time trying to get this done#this is simp behaviour i know leave me alone- /lh#IM NORMAL (no im not) MY FACE HAS CLEARED MY CROPS ARE WATERED MY-#RHRHRGSGHRHJSGRJHSD#framing this /j (/j bc my room needs to be cleaned up first and repainted)#self ship#self ship art#? i think i should include that jic I DONT KNOW IM BUSY DYING—
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Davos 1917 (2023)
#davos 1917#perioddramaedit#mine*#gifs*#i am making this my entire personality this christmas#the trailer quality is. not good.#also giffing trailers generally isn't fun#what do you mean this shot is only 30 frames..........#so i made this entirely for the last gif. look at them. gay.#even if they attempt to push the mother-daughter angle in press...i have eyes. lesbian behaviour all through those first two eps.#that said kann die ard bitte auch einen trailer machen der länger ist als 40 sekunden. danke.
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the Cat deliberately lured them to Herb's too - right after poking Ruby's trauma button about the hopelessness of the situation with Salem, stranding them in the forest close enough that the group would stumble on Herb's place
and then waiting for Ruby to be at her lowest in the smoke before interrupting, making it look like they were 'saving' the team from Herb while accusing him of having gone rogue and in need of ascension to cover the deception
really playing the long game throughout here
#RWBY9#RWBY spoilers#RWBY9 spoilers#there's also a frame in Jaune's recap of what happened with Alyx#where Alyx is standing over him after he's been poisoned#and the Cat's eyes appear#fucking thing absolutely manipulated them to make Alyx look like the bad guy to Jaune - drive him to despair as a potential vessel#while likely pushing Alyx's paranoia regarding Jaune's behaviour so she would split up the party and get Jaune out of the way#layers on layers of manipulation
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So many deeply stupid arguments are emerging from people who are supposed to be more enlightened than conservatives and tankies like it's genuinely brain breaking.
It's "Support the lesser evil" when it comes to American politics and voting a man complicit in funding and aiding genocide against someone who would continue to do so but with more open racism, but it's ignore the lesser evil argument when it comes to Hamas or the Houthis. You have to call them evil terrorists and if you acknowledge any context or even analyse their motives you are evil and support them because they only exist to hurt me personally and they want nothing but western blood. Ignore how Israeli leaders have more blood on their hands than all of Hamas combined. Ignore the active genocide. Ignore the Houthis (who yes are evil) explicitly saying why they chose to do a blockade and how the west can stop it. You can't acknowledge a lesser evil in this situation because they're brown and not part of our civilised western democracies. It's evil vs evil but one is actively committing a genocide and one is trying to push governments into stopping it.
"But the Houthis are evil! They don't care about Gaza!" The West did not bomb the Houthis because they're evil. They don't care about the Houthis antisemitism or anything else they do to Yemen. They bombed them because the Houthis hijacked ships in order to disrupt trade, and have stated that they have done so in order to stop the genocide in Gaza. Because all the West cares about is it's capitalist system and violently enforcing it. Bombing them instead of trying to stop the genocide means that in this situation you have handed the moral high ground to the fucking Houthis. In this specific situation aka the genocide of Palestinians, the Houthis are the lesser evil to the democratic west's Trump. Congrats to the governments who took part in that. Great look.
"You can't afford to play purity politics against Trump!" You are demanding that people who are having their family murdered as we speak shut up and vote for the man who is arming and supporting the fascist who is doing the killing. You are saying their families are acceptable sacrifices to save your own skin. There is no good option here but the smug righteousness makes you disgusting to me. At least acknowledge what you're actually asking for instead of being a complete moral coward.
"Silly leftists, Bibi hates Biden!" Yes! He does! And yet Biden will still grovel and tank his own support and bypass congress to send arms to a fascist who hates him and wishes he was Trump, because Biden's support for western imperialism is stronger than his own dignity as well as his concern for his voters. How is this an actual argument I've seen people make. Netanyahu hating Biden doesn't mean shit if Biden won't stop licking his boots and trying to prove he can be just as supportive of fascists as Trump!
Biden did a lot of good with domestic policy and with Ukraine. He and his government are also supporting a genocide and if you deny that at this point there is no hope for you to be considered a serious person. People understand why Trump supporters insist he did nothing wrong and people understand why you do the same for Biden.
Like just. Cop on.
#I'm not even saying don't vote for him. Do what you want. I'm just in awe of the smug callousness and warhawk behaviour#From liberals and centrists. They're turning into never trump republicans so quickly it's alarming.#And they always try and frame it with leftist language too#Saving the world and gay/women's rights by supporting Mr Genocide McFascistLover
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insanely cunty tartnell moment
#fluffy hair high waist trousers cropped jumper cute little neckerchief fingerless gloves and the POSE?? yes GOD#when the old man you hang out with wanders into frame and you immediately strike a little pose... we've all been there#could say it's tart behaviour ha ha ha do you get it did you laugh#terror rewatch
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Was thinking a bit deeper on @deadendtracks query https://www.tumblr.com/divinekangaroo/740003125539307520/i-clipped-this-from-your-post-because-its-easier?source=share
Snipped for sex talk, and also to spare any disinterested parties my naiveity on complex matters such as: subaltern/Orientalism/exoticism/Othering/ethnic talk etc
In hindsight I think I answered that query as a ‘possible authorial intent’ - speculatively, to subvert the usual gangster trope by displaying macho-ish behaviours (sex! whores!) but flipping motivation and outcome.
But there's also something else that's been churning away at the back of my head, the term subaltern. "the most powerless people living within the socio-economic confines of imperialism" -- and this imperialist overlay that often assigns the devious, deviant, dark, scheming/conniving/machavellian/feminine characteristics to the subaltern man, too, because it is exotic.
I haven't properly structured an argument around this; I feel a lot of T's approach to sex has that almost woman-coded thing to it, as signifiers of an even-further-disadvantaged man. It nags at me and feels that this also ties into this subaltern, semi-'Orientalist' / exotic layer he has as 'lower than the lowest class' / 'actually so low class he's outside of class' Romani character -> less of a stereotype, more of a conscious consideration of "if you have nothing, you will use everything you can, and sometimes that includes your own body, and guess what here's the bind: that kinda puts you even *lower* in the hierarchy, because women are lower than men and only women use their bodies that way!"
Gut instinct, barely unpacked: there's an imperialist/cultural/ethnic trauma that feels like it can't be detached from Tommy's sexuality/approach to sex any more than the hints of childhood trauma or abuse can be, either. Especially when you consider childhood as his closest time still connected to the living Romani culture, as opposed to by the time we see him on screen when his interactions with his culture are static and based on childhood/broken memories. I was initially put off by the Romani layer because it felt like a stereotype - gangs followed ethnic lines so let's just apply an ethnicity that's ~exotic~ - but the later series re-frame the earlier approach into something that shows it was almost never intended to be a representation of the culture but rather, more like Tommy's particular (distorted, damaged) view.
----
But then also answering the personal side of the question RE: Tommy's character. What does it mean for a person/individual to be so transactional and detached from sex yet participatory towards it?
This gets a little more headcanon-y:
T started having sex or being sexualised (seeing/experiencing sex) really young in a less than affectionate way - more like, here is a thing that must be done for some other action to happen (or be diverted).
Because of this, I can’t ever see him permitting himself to perform that ‘hungry to totally surrender his control and desires to someone else’ role so frequently given to him in fanon. What happened with Tatiana was an exception, not a rule. It’s nice to read for various reasons, but I'm unlikely to personally lean into this take. Not to say he's dominating or must be fully in control during sex, either, just that I think he'd avoid leaning into surrender because it'd be like losing total control of a transaction and becoming far too vulnerable.
Despite that I do feel he has an urge for connection/intimacy, I think he struggles with actually connecting deeply with people, reading sexual cues/flirtation or the like. In some ways, he connects too deeply and therefore holds back? I did have thoughts along the asexual line. He likes certain people, and he mostly enjoys the physical act of sex, and these two things can overlap to ‘I would like sex with this certain person’, but there’s a big gap between the two. Deep connection is unrelated to sex. Can't read flirt cues to the point he leapfrogs straight to the 'do you want to fuck?' almost as an abstraction because he can never decode the in-between steps?
Notwithstanding any deep connection, sex is still considered/framed as duty and obligation. His approach with Lizzie in S6 as case in point; he is conscious of his role and considers it a thing that must be performed to satisfy that role. Even S5, it feels like a 'seal the deal' sex exchange; he knows she likes it, she just told him so and that it's important to her, so all right, he's going to let loose.
This difficulty with 'is this connection? not sure?' is one reason why I think he is mostly about family (he can take connection for granted and has had a really really long time to build it). He also has a surprisingly large *respectful* but superficial network (he knows the right behaviours but rarely gets personal), very few close friends (honestly is this just Alfie? Maybe, once, Freddie and Barney? even Johnny Dogs and Uncle Charlie are subordinate). Which lends itself very effectively to leadership, to be honest, but also loneliness: again it feels like he's performing connection.
I really struggle with picturing him feeling much physical attraction without consciously focusing on it. He seems to spark for people (or maybe situations/dynamics - classy women?) not their physical, and when I’m in headcanon mode, it’s familiarity that builds his fondness for certain aspects of a person's physicality, rather than their physicality attracting him initially. So either he wants sex (release) and it's not really relevant who with, or he wants the person and sex is acceptable/better with that person. And there's a conscious switch in his head like, "ok now paying attention to physical attraction because must have sex" or "switch it off not important right now"
#more rambling sorry#some of these might be considered trauma responses but my preference is to think he is/was always going to be this way *somewhat*#because he is this way.the particular traumas he went through were able to be framed in ways that allowed him to continue…for a while#i try to avoid the trope of 'ah traumatic sexually fraught childhood=sexually destroyed forever'#i'm constantly trying to write my take on these as Him.not Consequential Trauma Reactions per Mccaffreyism ‘anal turns het men gay’ approac#of course the trauma embeds and distorts relationships and behaviours in other ways so it's not always simple or without overlap#I still long for some decent meta on the Romani.ethnicity.imperialism layer but without uni-level analytical terminology feel like--#i'd have to out myself for pseudoauthority to write it. so i try to write it into stories and instead think wistfully--#--about the strangeness of finding imperialist cultural alienation reflections/recognitions in *this* sort of media of all things XD
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Shadows of Fear: Return of Favours (1.6, Thames, 1971)
"And then they got this funny idea. About you. And this room. Almost as if they could read my mind. Anticipating my intentions. Did you hear?"
"What intentions?"
"I thought they told you on the phone?"
"Oh, yes. They thought you'd killed me. But you wouldn't have the guts. It's all dreams. Pathetic lies. I've been living with them for years."
#shadows of fear#return of favours#single play#horror tv#classic tv#thames#1971#jeremy paul#kim mills#george cole#caroline blakiston#jennie linden#robin ellis#after a short burst of strong episodes‚ this series hits a wobble; it's not that this is terrible or anything‚ it's just a little#muddled and‚ like the first ep‚ feels overly drawn out at 50 mins (and would probably have worked better in a 25 minute slot)#the story (Cole surprises young lovers using his flat for a tryst without his knowledge‚ his strange behaviour from that point leading them#to suspect he has killed his wife) is pure old hokum‚ but not without promise for this kind of mildly 'horror' themed anthology#(tho again like the first eps this would be better described as suspense tv rather than horror). it's stretched too thin‚ though‚ and#drags itself to an ending that only raises more questions than it answers: SPOILERS INCOMING for this obscure and 50+ yr old ep of old tv#Cole hasn't killed his wife but plans to. he does once the couple leaves then engineers the return of Ellis so that he can frame him. but#it won't stand up for a second? as Ellis repeatedly yells at the end of the episode‚ Jennie L is just downstairs and besides the#circumstantial evidence that Cole sets up‚ there's nothing about the supposed murder by Ellis that makes sense. he doesn't even know the#wife‚ he has no motive. also Cole has a bandaged hand all through the ep which he menacingly unwraps at the end to reveal.. nothing#he was wearing it to avoid fingerprints ig? but... why? why not just wear gloves? idk it all feels a little silly and a little#underwhelming in its conclusion. fun cast tho.
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