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13ghostlytitties · 5 months ago

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MHA has ended: how do I feel?

Well, if you wanted my exact reaction, this was what I sent my friends after reading the summary:

youtube

So, It’s been years since I’ve actually read the series. Still, I’ve kept up with what’s happened in broad strokes, and I’d like to read it all in one go now that I know it’s finished and what’s happened (can’t be disappointed if you don’t have your hopes up, I guess). I know enough and have read the reactions of others enough to see that this ended, and the whole final war saga and what’s happened with it, isn’t especially popular with fans beyond those who just read for cool fights and don’t delve any deeper. My thoughts?

Well, it ended how I expected. More accurately, it didn’t create any new problems because, to me, everything people seem to be picking at is just the endpoints of problems that have existed in this series for a long time.

Let’s go blow-for-blow here. There’s some aspects like the stuff with the LoV that I don’t feel as confident speaking about because I don’t know as much, so ill be sticking with what I’m pretty confident in saying. We’ll start with:

1: Midoriya lost his Quirk, became a teacher instead of a hero

I would like to start this with a touch of positivity and say that, if he really isn’t gonna be a hero, I think hero teacher is very fitting for Midoriya. He’s got the personality for it, he has the experience for it, and it’s kind of a nice feeling that he’s there to help the ones coming after him.

So, personally, I’ve never been that into the way OFA works. I love Quirks that stick to the theme and idea that these are biologically mutations, especially when they play on classic superpowers (Shiozaki, Iida, Tsuburaba, Shoji, Ashido, Asui, etc.). Whether or not you think Midoriya should still have his power or not, the fact that he lost it and thus didn’t become a pro hero is not a new problem. That’s what happened to Ragdoll, to Hawks, to Togata (temporarily), to Knuckleduster in Vigilantes. No Quirk means no superhero. We learned that in the first chapter. Sure, it ended with All Might saying to Quirkless Midoriya “you can be a hero,” but you then you turn the page to chapter 2 and we see what he meant - “you can be a hero because I’m giving you a Quirk.” Midoriya not being a hero after losing his Quirk shouldn’t that shocking as the idea that you can be a Quirkless hero has never been on the table. “But wait,” you say, “Midoriya got a special power suit at the end and got to be a hero again with everyone else. All Might did something similar against AFO, so doesn’t that count as being a hero with no Quirk?” Well, sure, but it took 8 years and apparently a shit-ton of money to make it happen. They’re the exception to the rule. And how did they become the exceptions? Connections and accolades from when they did have Quirks. It’s the same reason why Midoriya couldn’t have his full-circle “you can be a hero” moment with an actual Quirkless kid like he was: it’d be a lie, to the kid and the audience. Speaking of…

2: Plate Boy can be a hero too!

Like I said, they couldn’t have this be a Quirkless kid because that’d go against everything that we’ve been shown up until now. Because of that, this moment is severely handicapped, to the point where I wonder if having the lie would’ve been the lesser of two evils compared to wasting a lot of time of this ending on someone who’s anxious about a starting point that is, in essence, better off than Midoriya’s starting point. If you can’t actually complete the full circle, you can’t really have that full circle moment, and the fact that this story could not have that should make the disparity of where it started vs. where it went all the more clear

3: the class losing touch, drifting apart

This may be just me, but I never really thought of Class 1-A as that much of a unit. So many of them are kept to the sidelines, so many arcs just focus on Midoriya and a couple others, usually just Bakugo and Todoroki (another group I never bought as a real cohesive group), to the point where it felt rare to have them feel like a team. Can you really say, just reading the manga, that they’re in the same vein as the Straw Hat Pirates, the Stardust Crusaders, the Black Bulls, etc. It was only rare times that they all came together in a big way, and it usually kept things to little cliques. Now, I’m not saying that the solution would have been evenly juggling 20 characters and making them all having unique connections with each other. It’s not feasible for a professional, serialized manga that has to worry about pacing, audience interest, worldbuilding, characters outside of their class, etc. (Honestly, I think the best way would have been 4 classes of 10 students instead of 2 of 20, but that’s neither here nor there.). All I can really say is, can you really be so heartbroken about 20 people who only rarely were seen interacting and working all together mostly drifting apart?

4: the structure of the Hero Association and stuff like the rankings are still in place

Again, I must say, this is an issue that’s been deeply rooted in the series. To begin, a lot of time throughout the series has indeed been about how messed up hero society has become. Even in the first chapter, we get a lot of time to take in how commercialized it’s become, how many heroes see it as just a job or even as a fame contest for riches and glory. Mt. Lady in chapter 1 was the example given of someone out for fame and money, so much so that she’s placed herself in an ill-suited environment for her power (a crowded city where she can’t maneuver properly without causing serious damage) just because it’s where more people will notice her and where there’s more villains to fight. The function of Bakugo in Chapter 1, remember, was that he was an egotistical glory hound looking to ride his innate power to glory, fame, and riches.

And further in, when we first learn about Endeavor’s deal, we’re being introduced to him as the logical endpoint of this system. He’s obsessed to the point of extreme measures, including buying a woman to marry with a strong Quirk, forcing her to have enough kids that he’ll get a suitable heir, and harshly training that heir into someone who can take his place in the societal totem pole that is the ranking of heroes. So, with all that said, why am I saying that it’s not a surprise this stuff is still around in the epilogue? Well, it’s because all of this bad stuff gets a facelift as time goes on. Bakugo became popular, so his image was cleaned up for the reader, the whole “get rich” angle was dropped, and other characters started loving and respecting him without the need for his shitty attitude to change. Endeavor was given a long, screen time-hogging “redemption arc” where the people he terrible abused forgave him. Even Mt. Lady became more noble as time went on. MHA has a serious issue with retconning its traits and brushing aside heavy topics for the sake of easy solutions and appealing to who and what is popular with fans. And, sure, give the fans what they want, but don’t do it at the cost of your story. Anyway, this is become a ramble, so I’ll get back on track. Hero rankings and the institutions of pro heroes is another part of the story that gets this sort of easy solution. It’s still around, but it’s run by “the good guys” now (It’s not like power corrupts, right? I’m sure the guy who idolizes Endeavor wouldn’t have an issues with the idea that people in power can use that power for bad things). They’ve learned, really, for true, so everything’s gonna be fine now, pinky-swears it. It really is just like Naruto’s ending, in that sense. The structures of power that have been criticized from the start are still around in the end, but because certain issues (mostly unrelated to that institution’s issues) have been dealt with, and because “the good guys” are now in charge, we’re just supposed to expect things are fine now and will be for the foreseeable future.

Anyway, that’s all I’ve really got to see. I know there are more issues people are talking about, but those are the ones I have something to say about. So, what’s the verdict? Is it a good ending? A bad ending?

It’s an ending, that’s enough.

#mha #bnha #mha ending #bnha ending #mha critical #bnha critical #the heart of a hero #Youtube

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bug-the-chicken-nug · 1 year ago

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Not me starting to unironically care about like the concept of Fleshed Out Cardin

Like in my mind he's kind of like a Jaune foil

The Winchesters are another pretty successful Hunter family, Cardin is a middle child of a big family and has five siblings.

I do imagine they're lowkey kind of washed up in terms of actual Hunter accolades, with more recent generations being like, decent but sort of just coasting off of past ancestor rep, and Cardin's family is upper-middle-class more because there's still some old money left.

But they actually believed in Cardin and supported him, with their flaws being that they were both too indulgent and unable to be sufficiently attentive, resulting in an arrogant, entitled guy who has an excessive need for attention and control.

Honestly I don't even imagine his parents as being overtly terrible or malicious in any obvious way, at worst they're like subconsciously racist centrists who can't spend time with their kids a ton, so the guilt causes them to overcompensate, and they also tended to show favoritism towards Cardin that wasn't really on purpose either.

Cardin then just picked up most of his more overt racism from just exposure to bad crowds and bad media, and what limited corrections and interventions occured were always too little, too late.

It was just that he was the most promising as the next potential Big Name Hunter of the family, giving him a further inflated ego and actually starting to diminish his work ethic when he realized he could just brute force and manipulate his way through anything challenging.

In the semi-headcanon/semi-AU I'm envisioning here, I imagine Beacon then put up enough of a genuine challenge that all of this caught up to him, he started to struggle, and doubled down on his biggest flaws as a way of trying to reassert a feeling of power and competence.

I then imagine that of he remained relevant you could do something with like

Him being humbled and somewhat humiliated after the Jaune stuff, then seeing Velvet fight and begrudgingly being impressed, then he goes for the standard "I guess you're pretty good... For a Faunus..." type thing and just. Genuinely doesn't understand why Velvet takes this so awkwardly and uncomfortably.

And nobody is really in a position to willingly and eloquently explain it without just making him get irritated and defensive because it's too hard to admit he's in the wrong, so this just kind of awkwardly lingers with him feeling kind of "unfairly targeted" for a while (oh the irony)

And then the Vytal Festival happens and he and his team just barely win against some other team lead by someone with a family of moderate Hunter-world importance, who trash talked him about how washed up the Winchesters are for a bit, then begrudgingly admits "I guess you're pretty good... For a Winchester,"

And when Cardin feels how this backhanded shit actually just makes him dislike them even more, once he's done being pissed, that's when he has the "Oohhhh..." moment and truly realizes why his "compliment" towards Velvet was so shitty.

Yes, still kind of a self-centered path to finally Getting It, but feels a hell of a lot more natural than someone patiently going out of their way to explain this stuff to him like it's a Saturday morning cartoon, because he sure as hell isn't going to seek out and listen to a professor.

Cue a string of Thee World's Most Awkward Attempts to arrange both the time and courage to apologize to Velvet (let's just ignore the fall of beacon here since it doesn't tonally jive with what I'm going for)

Which like

I don't actually envision this AU as Holybun, but I *do* think it would be hilarious if this starts to make people THINK Cardin now has a weird and possibly fetishistic thing for Velvet.

#cardin winchester #rwde

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wordstro · 5 years ago

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mingi + mafia au + you shouldn't have done that

mingi x gender neutral reader, 1.5k, thank you!!!!!!!!!!!

Part 2

you were meant to do great things. at least that’s what your parents, your teachers, even your best friend used to tell you over and over and over, beaming at you and whatever your newest accolade of the moment was. you had ranked number one in your class all throughout high school. you had your pick between the top three universities in the country. at graduation, you were on top of the world.

and then, things went downhill and never really stopped.

you’re still not quite sure when you’ll hit rock bottom, when you’ll finally get to turn your life around. or maybe, you missed that chance long ago. your father grew incredibly ill and your mother fell into debt. you worked too many part time jobs to help pay it off and your grades slipped. eventually, your father passed away and your mother was too busy dealing with grief and debt to really be a mother. you failed one too many classes and got kicked out of university. you still felt like you needed to help your mother pay off the crippling amount of debt and you indulged yourself in people you would have never given the light of day. and, to top it all off, your best friend slowly stopped answering your calls and your texts, drifting out of your life as if he hadn’t been there since you were both children, as if all those years and late nights and time spent together meant nothing.

it’s been years since then, but the mere thought of him still brings tears to your eyes, still makes your stomach curl with guilt, still makes you wonder what the hell you did wrong. during your brief phone calls with your mother, she would ask about him, and you never had the heart to just tell her. but, maybe she noticed your short answers because, nowadays, she’s stopped. nowadays, she’s even stopped asking for details about your job.

you’re grateful for that, really, because how the hell are you supposed to tell your sweet, tired mother that you work as a freelance hacker for an underground network of crime syndicates? it’s a bit of a mouthful, really, and you don’t think your poor mother’s heart can take such news.

sometimes, you wonder if this is your rock bottom. especially when you catch sight of yourself in the blackness of your screen before you boot up your laptop. the debt hasn’t stopped and you don’t think it ever really will because interest is a fucking bitch, but it’s become manageable. sometimes, you think about how you could go back to school. you could get decent work in an office somewhere.

but, you kind of like the thrill of this. you could go back, but you won’t. you know you won’t. you enjoy the rush of adrenaline when you receive a notification from one of your clients instructing you to extract information for them. you never ask too many questions about the whos. you only really care about the compensation. and this particular task has a price tag of several million won.

you raise your brow, stretching your fingers and cracking your back, already thinking about all the things you plan on buying with the extra money, grinning because the task in question is easy. almost too easy. you just need to root out a location from within a shit ton of security walls, as if whoever built it absolutely does not want anyone to find them. you grin and get to work.

~.~.~.~.~

you’ve seen your fair share of security systems over the course of your career and you’d rank this one as one of the tougher ones. still, you get in. you always get in.

and, for a moment, the IP address appears on your screen. the tension falls from your shoulders as you sit back admiring your work. for a moment, all is well.

until it isn’t.

your screen turns red, filling with white static, and it’s fucking terrifying. especially when it starts keening, high pitched, shrill, ringing in your ears, until it goes black.

you freeze, slowly peeking out from behind your chair, eyeing the computer in concern. you wonder if it’ll explode. white symbols fill the screen, cursor blinking. it takes a moment to register the message and when you do, your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, your breath catching in your throat. it’s your full name and your current location, written out in full, almost as if it’s mocking you. a chill runs straight down your spine and, for a moment, you’re frozen in your spot, crouched behind your computer chair. you were always cautious. you switched between VPNs constantly, you kept your work computer clear of anything and everything relating to your identity. this shouldn’t be happening. holy shit, you need to go. you shoot up, rummaging through your closet for the getaway bag you made long ago, just in case. you knew you needed a contingency plan when you started this. you just never expected to actually need it. but, now, you need to get out. you need a burner phone and cash and -

knock, knock.

the things in your hand slip, clattering all over the floor, and you flinch at the loud noise, glancing between the laptop and the door. you contemplate jumping out the window, but you’re on the third floor and you doubt that -

beep. beep. beep. click.

the front door sits ajar and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. for a beat, you are so terrified you aren’t sure if you can even move. then your brain jumps into overdrive. you need something to defend yourself with, though. you’re frantic when you yank the lamp off the table beside the couch, scurrying into the kitchen.

it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and you hate it. you swear your own heartbeat can be heard in the quiet of your apartment. there is no force used, you notice, as if your brain is clinging to the tiniest details as a way to keep calm and collected. nothing about the knocking at your door nor the technical break-in is forceful or loud, and it’s somehow worse than if someone had just kicked your door down and stuck a gun in your face. you lift the lamp over your head, just as you hear the creak of the front door opening and the faintest of whispers. you hear footsteps, slow and measured, so fucking casual, echoing throughout your apartment and your grip on the lamp tightens. it doesn’t take long for the footsteps to approach the kitchen. you don’t even try to catch a glimpse of the intruder; the moment they step into reach, you bring the lamp down over their head with a loud thud.

a man cries out in pain - the loudest noise you’ve heard yet this evening, the sound making you flinch - and you back out of the kitchen, nearly tripping on your own feet, not even bothering to watch the man crumple to his knees. you just hope he stays down.

but, you didn’t account for the other voice, the other footsteps.

you yelp when you run face first into a sturdy wall of a person, thrashing as their fingers wrap around you, holding you steadfast with such ease. you think, holy shit, holy shit, I don’t want to die, while you’re being dragged and tossed onto the floor of your living room. you hit your head too hard, vision swimming, pain shooting through your skull, but you manage to put space between you and where you think the intruders are. you stare, wary, terrified, thinking, thinking, thinking. you open your mouth, ready to scream, but there’s a pretty boy with dark eyes and sharp features staring down at you, head tilted, a gun cocked in his hands.

he says, “scream and i’ll shoot.”

you didn’t account for three intruders, the man with the gun, the one you hit over the head with the lamp, and whoever is helping him up. your eyes flicker past the kitchen entrance, frantically searching over the man’s shoulder for an opening. you notice the lack of face coverings - from what you’ve picked up throughout your years of working in the underground, you know that is not a promising sign, it usually means they don’t plan on letting you live long enough to expose their identities - and you scoot further back until your back hits the wall. the man’s eyes and gun follows you, a kind smile playing on his lips, out of place in a situation like this. it’s just as unsettling as the lack of force behind their break in, the silence with which they work under.

two people emerge from your kitchen, the man you presumably hit over the head grumbling under his breath while the other one holds him up, towering over him. the man with the gun speaks up, pulling your attention back to him, “now, tell us.” he steps forward and you have nowhere to go. “why exactly were you trying to hack into our systems? who put you up to this?”

“I…I don’t know.” your voice comes out steadier than you expected and you’re grateful for that. the man with the gun sighs. you glare, you can’t help it. “I really don’t know. I make it a point not to know who my clients are.”

the man sighs, yet again, and somehow that angers you. you watch as he steps back from you, gun still directed at you, turning his torso to face his friends. your gaze flickers up to them and you -

“holy shit.” your fingers dig into your palms, your eyes locked on him.

because it’s song mingi.

memories that you have spent years trying to forget floods into the forefront of your mind. birthdays spent with him, his soft smile, the first memories you’ve had with him, playing tag in your parents’ house. the way he sometimes insisted you be the big spoon when the two of you cuddled, laughing at the way you could barely contain his long limbs in your arms. the way he cried into your shoulder when his family dog had to be put down. the promises of forever he made with you. his laugh, the way his eyes would scrunch up and his smile would get so big. memories and feelings and everything just floods through you and you can feel tears prickling at your eyes, your chest heavy, words stuck in your throat.

he has red hair now, his arm curled around the man you hit over the head. still, he hasn’t changed much. he’s taller, broader, older, but he is the same in so many ways. his eyes, though, are different. the light and love they always held has dimmed and there’s something dark about his gaze, something ancient and sad and irredeemable, something broken. your breath catches at the sight, at the way his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, before they narrow, at the way you can’t read his face easily like you used to be able to.

“mingi?” you speak, then, your voice less steady than before, barely audible really, if it wasn’t for how quiet the apartment had become. both his friends startle at that, but your eyes are on him. there is a mix of anger and relief and yearning that curls in your chest. you’ve missed him, you realize. you’re angry because he left you so long ago, that he is standing here now, on the side of the man with the gun pointed at you, and you should be mad, should be screaming, but you missed him. maybe this is your rock bottom.

for a moment, mingi softens, eyes returning to the way he used to look at you before. for a moment, you can pretend he still cares about you.

but, only for a moment.

his gaze steels, his lips pressing into a thin line. he slips his hands off his friend, stepping towards you and there is an aura surrounding him that is unfamiliar and, frankly, terrifying.

he crouches, until he is at eye level with you. you hold your breath. he says, “you’ve built a very notorious reputation for yourself you know. makes sense, though, you’ve always been the greatest at whatever you put your mind to.”

there’s something so very foreboding about the way he says that. you blink, manage to respond, “why are you…what do you want from me? what are you…what are you going to do to me?”

mingi looks at you like you are a stranger and you think, no, this is your rock bottom. he leans in close, red hair falling over his unreadable eyes, elbows resting on his knees. the world falls away and all that is left is you and mingi, mingi and you.

he breathes, “hacking into our systems? you really shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart.” then he tilts his head and stares you down. you cannot breathe as he tacks on, “now we have to make an example out of you.”

#song mingi #ateez #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #mingi angst #requests #i hope u like it!! maybe i want to make a part 2 but idk TT #Anonymous

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sherlollydramoine · 5 years ago

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Merry XXXMas

Warnings: 18+ only. Okay so this gets filthy, but there is also a little bit of fluff...Language, unprotected sex (as always-wrap it before you tap it).

This is unedited so therefore all mistakes are mine.

This is for the anon on @free-rami��‘s page that wanted some XXXMas fanfiction for Rami. Here ya go, whoever you are, I hope this satisfies!

Word Count: 5,272

You weren’t looking forward to spending any time with your family around the holidays, as you didn’t have a great relationship with your family. Your older sister and brother were both very successful at what they did. One was a doctor the other was a lawyer, you know those jobs that are the epitome of the American dream and the respectable jobs that everyone considered “important.” Every family holiday was always the same. Being lectured on how you were the least successful of all of your siblings because you were a hair and makeup artist. Your career wasn’t worthy of note because it didn’t always pay the best, and couldn’t garner you much accolades. That is how your family defined success.

Or it was until you were fortunate enough to work on a few very high profile jobs and started winning awards for your work. It was on your second high profile job that you ended up meeting your boyfriend.

Rami was incredibly successful in his field, having won a ton of awards for his work, and your father absolutely loved him. You had successfully avoided having to bring him home with you for family holidays until your mom put her foot down and insisted. You had compromised and both of you agreed to go to dinner at your parents house on Christmas Eve.

You had your reservations because your sister was a huge fan, and even though she was married that wouldn’t stop her from trying to flirt with him, and you were so nervous about it. Annabeth is quite a force to be reckoned with and has always gotten what she wanted, that’s why she was so successful as an attorney.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you were putting your earrings on. Anxieties running through your head, all the ‘what ifs’ and years of self-doubt.

“Hey babe, you almost ready?” Rami asked, with a soft smile on his face. You watch his eyes drink in your appearance as he put his hands on your hips to pull you close to him. He rests his head on your shoulder and tightened his grip on you. “I love you, you know that. If you are worried about your sister, don’t be. I only have eyes for you.”

“I know it’s just that-”

“Nonsense” he interrupted, placing a kiss to your temple. His hands at your waist

“You are the best you know that? I love you so much. I wish we could just skip all the familial obligations we are burdened with today, and just stay here, preferably in bed while we worship each other.”

“Me too. But a promise is a promise. If we didn’t show something tells me that your mother would drive her ass all the way across town and drag us both out of bed.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that escaped you because it was true. If you didn’t show up today she would do exactly that.

“Alright Rami, I’m done, how do I look?” you ask, as you do a small spin around the bathroom.

“You look fucking fantastic. I can’t wait to see this dress on the floor later with you under me screaming my name.” he smirked, as he places a chaste kiss to your red tinted lips.

“We are such horn dogs. Animals. Isn’t that what Sami called us the last time he was here? In my defense I was also nearly a bottle of wine deep into the evening, and I have always had a hard time keeping my hands to myself around you. By the way you look ravishing yourself and you smell so good. I seriously want to say fuck it and stay here to fuck your brains out.” you said, as you turned your body to face him, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. Your hips pressing into his as you reach up to cup his face and capture his lips in a not so chaste kiss this time.

“Mmmmmm…” he hummed, clearly sharing in your line of thinking.

“Yes 'mmmmm’ is right babe. I want you so bad right now.” you whisper in his ear, your hands working their way down his body to cup him through the front of his dress pants.

He lets out a small whimper in response to your actions and his hips slightly buck into your hand and then he smirks devilishly against your mouth before his hand comes down on yours to gently remove your hand from his crotch.

“I know but we really should get going if we want to arrive close to the time we told your mom we would.” he replied, much to your chagrin.

“Damn. I was hoping I could turn you on enough that you’d want to stay home.”

“Oh trust me baby, I’m really turned on right now, I’m hard as a rock, but a promise is a promise.” he winks as he had to adjust himself in his pants.

“Ugh. You suck!” you stick your tongue out at him like a child.

He laughs,”Maybe, but you will definitely be sucking on something later.”

And God damn, if that statement didn’t make your panties nearly fly off your body.

The drive over to your parent’s house was bordering on torturous. He told you that you weren’t allowed to do anything about it, but his dirty talk in combination with the sexy natural huskiness of his voice was enough to nearly have you undone.

“Can’t wait to see your beautiful eyes looking up at me as you suck my dick. Your lips stretched around me with your lipstick smeared all over your face and my cock. To watch your eyes nearly roll back in your head as I fuck you so hard you scream my name. And trust me, you will be screaming my name. I can’t wait to watch your body swallow my cock, to hear your moans filling the room, knowing that I’m the only one that ever gets to make you feel good.”

It took all the strength you had to not cum right there on the seats, your thighs rubbing together seeking some sort of friction.

“Fuck Rami, I’m soaked. We may have to go home just so I can change my outfit.” you whine, hoping that he’ll take the bait and turn the car around.

“Nice try but it’s not happening.”

You did the next best thing you could think of to try and incentivise him to turn around. You lift your hips and slide your panties down your legs, they were soaked, and when he stopped at a red light, you tossed them at him. You watch as they bounce of his gorgeous cheek and then land in his lap.

He raises a brow before he turned to you with a smirk,”You’ll pay for that.”

The wetness between your thighs just getting worse, and now you had no barrier to help hide the mess that you were making of yourself.

“Gahhhh… I want you so fucking bad and you are...ugghhhh!! Why? Why are you so fucking stubborn?”

His laughter loud as he reaches out to grab your hand.

“You’ll get over it. A promise is a promise. What makes you think that I don’t want you just as bad right now anyway? I’m so turned on right now, and I really want nothing more than to pull over somewhere and fuck the shit out of you, but that is not in the cards for us at this moment in time. We have somewhere we absolutely need to be and we’re already late.”he informs you as his grip on your hand tightens.

Less than fifteen minutes later you were pulling up outside your parent’s house and with a groan you force yourself out of the car.

The inside of your parent’s house was a flurry of activity. Bodies moving in and out of the kitchen and a few kids running amuck in the house. Everyone in your family had already met Rami so there weren’t any awkward introductions that needed to be made. Offering to help your mom in the kitchen she gladly accepted. Rami tagged along just as eager to help even though your mom insisted that he go and hang out with guys.

You had no idea why Rami would offer to help in the kitchen but he follows orders well, so he was allowed to stay. All too quickly you ascertain exactly why he wanted to help so badly, and you kind of want to kill him for it, or at least fuck the shit out of him.

It starts casually as an ‘accidental’ touch here or there, a brush of your hands, but it escalates very quickly to full fledged groping whenever no one else was watching. The front of his body pressed against your back as he used the excuse that he needed to grab a dish out of the cupboard above your head. You seize the opportunity to grind your ass into his cock and he had to bite back a moan.

His right hand ghosts its way down your body before settling on your hip where he firmly grips it and pulls you hard against him. The little shit has the audacity to begin to subtly thrust his hips against your ass, the reaction your body had to his almost caused you to drop the dish of mashed potatoes you were holding; biting your lip hard enough to nearly draw blood.

He leans down so that his mouth is about a centimeter from your ear, he whispers,”You are so sexy in that dress, I can’t wait to take it off of you in a few hours. I can’t wait to give it to you so good you won’t walk right tomorrow.”

You respond by turning your body around and capturing his lips in a searing kiss, your hips grinding into each others, soft moans leaving both of you, as your hands start roaming all over each other’s bodies. Both of you for a second completely forgetting where you are until you hear a voice that nearly makes your heart stop.

“God damn YN why the fuck would you do that in here?” you sister Annabeth complained.

“Fuck off Annabeth.”

You pulled Rami closer as you bucked your hips into his, letting out a slightly over dramatic moan, as you continued to dry hump him against the kitchen counter. As it turns out, Rami is all for this game that is being played. Neither of you giving a fuck in this moment who sees what.

His lips find that sweet spot on your neck and you let out a whimper, as he sucks a mark into the tender flesh.

“YN, now everyone will know you are mine, just as I am yours.”

“God you two are fucking disgusting.” Annabeth complained again.

“And why are you still standing there? Doesn’t that make you feel like a perv for watching?” you pointed out.

Just then your mom re-entered the kitchen and announced that it was time to serve dinner. The three of you were instructed to carry the various components of dinner to the formal dining room, which the three of you did without complaint.

Once everything was on the table and everyone had taken their seats at the table conversation quietly began before your dad had announced that he was going to say a prayer. Everyone held hands, except you and Rami because his left hand was resting on your thigh, his fingers ghosting upwards towards his target.

His fingers find your core easily, and very quietly he says “fuck your soaked.” Slowly he inserts one then two fingers and starts to really move his hand. Your hips start to move against his hand and given how worked up you’ve been since you’d left home, you had to bite your tongue to stop the moan that threatened to leave your lips. His ministrations were so purposeful and skilled that it only took you a few minutes to feel your orgasm building to you nearly falling over the edge. You were so distracted enjoying the bliss you experiencing, trying not to make yourself obvious,you were unable to hear your father finish up the prayer.

Rami playful nudged you and realized why so you open your mouth, “Ahhh.. ahhh.. Amen.” you half moan, half stutter out.

His fingers still working you so deliciously, your body moments away from orgasm, you lean over and nip his ear before whispering,”Sinner.” His lips boldly find yours in the nick of time because he was able to swallow your quiet cries of pleasure and no one in your family was any wiser, except maybe your sister who looked as if she’d swallowed something bitter.

As dinner progressed and most of the adults were two or three glasses of wine deep, conversations became more interesting. Your sister was trying to engage Rami in conversation and trying not to get irritated with her attempts to flirt, while her husband sat oblivious next to her. He always has this amazing ability to handle everything with such grace, that he is easily able to deflect. Your stomach was full, your body warm with happiness and alcohol, and you start to watch Rami’s mouth when he speaks.

Your body already warm started to heat up, and you had started to rub your thighs together, when a thought popped into your head. He had you undone earlier, maybe it was your turn to repay the favor.

You scoot your chair closer to Rami’s and you rest your head on his shoulder, his arm automatically snaking its way around you. Your man is so beautiful that you can’t take your eyes off of him. The way his jaw and mouth move when he speaks, his ocean colored eyes bright, and his smile. God you wanted him so bad and when he looked down at you, he could clearly see the mischief in your eyes. You attempt to move your body closer to his, and he allows it, as you try to melt into him.

Trying to be subtle, you start moving the hand closest to his body along his thigh, just feather light touches over the fabric of his dress pants. His conversation never stops as a few of your cousins had some questions for Rami. They were always the same kind of questions he usually gets but he never failed to give them a great answer. He shifts his hips under your hand, as you actually start to massage him through his pants, relishing in the way his body is so reactive to your touch. You just smile up at him, trying to look innocent as you hand finds its way to his belt. Your fingers begin the process of undoing his belt and opening his dress pants, as you slide your warm hand into his pants. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from making any noise as you grip him, sliding your thumb across his slit and coating his cock with his pre-cum, as you slowly move your hand up and down his cock. His hips shift again, as you work him, while wearing a smirk, hoping that he could maintain his conversations.

His grip on your waist tightens as he fights to keep from making any noise, with your family still milling about, you were working him hard and fast, hoping to make this quick when your mom walks in and announces that it was time for presents.

Both of you let out a frustrated groan, as your eyes meet his. All you could do was shrug as you kept working him, “We’ll be there in a minute mom. Go ahead and start without us.”

Never once stopping what you were doing, your family files out of the formal dining room and gathers in the large living room. Feeling bold since everyone had left the room, you waste no time pulling him completely out of his pants, and begin to really work him. Not wanting to have to clean up the mess you slide out of your chair and onto your knees in front of him.

He lets out a little gasp of shock as he sits back and watches you work.

Taking him into your mouth, working him with your tongue as your hands begin to massage his balls. Looking up at him through your lashes you observe him biting his lip, forehead covered in a light layer of sweat, his eyes screwed shut, one of his hands ends fisting itself in your hair as his hips began to buck up, pushing himself further into your mouth.

“Yessss baby… yess.. M’so close… yess.. Oh god baby your mouth… fuck... im gonna…..“ he cries out, just as you feel his hot cum down the back of your throat.

Allowing him a few to come back down from his temporary high, you just sit on your knees between his legs, on the hardwood floor of your parent’s formal dining room.

His grip on your hair loosens and you casually stand up smoothing your dress over your hips. You lean forward and capture his lips for a sweet kiss. His hands reaching out for you before he pulls into his lap

“YN, I love you so much. That was hot, and thank you.” he says, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap your arms around his neck as you just stare into each other's eyes for a few minutes, until your sister Annabeth decides to come barging in and yelling at you to hurry the fuck up.

Annabeth stops in her tracks and just looks shocked before her face screws up into disgust. “Seriously YN?! I can’t believe you, I expected better -”

“You know what Anna-Just shut the fuck up! Just stop! I’ve had enough of your fucking mouth. Just because you are bored with your life, because you did what our parents wanted you to do and didn’t follow your passions, you can stop being a fucking cunt to me. You are one of the main reasons I never come visit. You are just jealous because I followed my dreams, ended winning awards for my talents, and landed my dream man; you are stuck in a loveless, sexless marriage and working a job you have no passion for. For the love of God, just leave me alone. I don’t need your commentary on everything I choose to do in my life. So what, I got horny, and I just sucked my boyfriend off under the dinner table after Christmas dinner, how does my decision directly affect or hurt you?” you spat, trying to keep your voice low. You didn’t want to draw the rest of your family to the dining room.

Anna just looked shocked as she spun on her heel and rushed out of the dining room.

Rami still sitting in his chair with you in his lap, just wrapped his arms around your briefly and murmured how proud he was of you in your ear, the fingers of his left hand coming up to card through your hair, and his right hand resting on your back holding you close. He knew that your sister was always the most critical of you and you had shared with him that you suspected it was just because she was jealous.

Your mom entered the dining room again and stood observing the two of you. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before she quietly said, “Look I know you two are very much in love and it is really hard to keep your hands to yourselves, but if you could please get yourselves put back together and join the rest of us for presents. The littles are mostly done opening all their stuff and we’d love for all of the adults to be actually in the room for the gift exchanging.”

As soon as your mom walks away both of you descended into a fit of giggles. You climbing off his lap as he tucked himself back into his pants. You leaning in to help him refasten his pants and belt. Both of you peppering each others faces with small kisses.

“God baby I want to just say ‘fuck it’ and fuck you right on your parent’s dining room table.”

“Yessssss…. God I want you to so badly, but you heard my mom. She WILL come back here every three minutes until we join them.”

Once you were both satisfied that you both had readjusted, retucked, and smoothed yourselves out you made one last stop to take a look in the mirror in the dining room for a final check.

“Oh my God Rami my lipstick!”

He just laughs out loud and grabs a napkin from the pile that had been left on the buffet. He gently wipes the smeared lipstick off and even though it may have made the rest of your makeup a little splotchy you didn’t care.

“Don’t worry about reapplying it right now love. Let’s just get out there.” Rami says with a smile, as he grabs a hold of your hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

Finding that there was only one spot left to sit you told Rami to sit on the couch, while you sat just below him between his legs. Your dad acting as ‘Santa’ and handing out everyone’s gifts while the children ran around playing with their new toys.

After all the gifts have been opened and everyone’s stuff was neatly stacked in piles by the front door, everyone headed back into the formal dining room for dessert. Of course your mom had gone all out, you felt it was partially to impress Rami at his first family Christmas with you; she’d made eight different kinds of pies, two traditional Christmas desserts, cake with ice cream, and a giant bowl of homemade whipped cream.

“Mom that’s enough to feed four times as many people as we have here right now.” you point out.

She shrugs and just smiles, “More for you kiddies to take home and enjoy later.”

You took over for your mom trying to give her a break, serving everyone up their chosen desserts before choosing your own and taking your seat next to Rami. The wine everyone had consumed earlier was really showing now. People’s bodies were much more relaxed, and conversation flowed much easier than it had earlier. Rami had his chair pulled close to the table deeply engrossed in a conversation with your brother, between bites of his dessert. Your chair was angled toward his with your feet currently resting in his lap, as you leaned back barely touching your dessert.

You were resting your head against the back of your chair just watching Rami talk. He’s so animated, especially when he’s really passionate about something, his body really comes alive while he speaks. His hands gesturing wildly as he continues on about whatever, before you feel his left hand come to rest on your calf.

His fingers lazily drawing little patterns on your skin, which instantly causes your body to shudder, your flesh now covered in goosebumps. His conversation showing no signs of slowing but he does turn his head towards you give you a smile. That smile, the smile, as his fingers continue moving against your skin. You pull your leg away from his body, and he shoots you a look of confusion, before he realizes what you are doing.

Standing up, you set your dessert plate on the table, and slide your chair across the floor closer to his, your chair still angling towards him. You drape your right leg over his lap this position leaving your body very open to whatever he has planned.

His fingers resume their little dance across your leg, as they slowly make their way up to the apex of your thighs. As soon as they’ve reached their intended destination he wastes no time, his fingers finding your clit, and with a flick you let out a little squeak and nearly fall out of your chair.

He shoots you a look of mock concern, as he continues moving his fingers. He only stops to pull his fingers away from your clit for just a quick second so that he could adjust his position in his chair, as a couple of his fingers slide their way into your slick folds, his thumb finding your clit again.

You were biting your lip to keep from letting out a loud moan, as he continues pumping his fingers in and out of you, before he curled his fingers into a 'come hither motion inside of you. Hitting your g spot and instantly sent you over the edge. As you open your mouth to let out a scream, he shoves a forkful of his pie into your mouth. Staring at him in wide eyed shock, you end up moaning around the pie in your mouth, as you clench around his fingers, your orgasm a small but powerful one.

A few members of your family look at your a bit curiously before the little shit opens his mouth instead,”She really likes pie. I can’t say I blame her, it’s really delicious.”

You watch him as he leans forward and licks the corner of your mouth, before he brings his fingers to his lips and sucks his fingers clean.

“Jeez YN, you really are a messy eater, aren't you?” he grins.

“The messiest baby, the messiest.”

You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he leans down to whisper in your ear again.

“Wanna get out of here? I can’t wait to get you home and finally out of that dress. I want my cock buried in you within the next hour or I might combust.”

You slowly nod your head as stand up to prepare to start saying your goodbyes to your family. Your dad helping you to carry some leftovers and your gifts out to the car. A few more hugs and kisses later, you two were finally in the car headed home.

“God Rami, I want you so bad. This has been a long afternoon and evening- I just want you to fuck me so bad. I’m feeling insatiable, a little slut just for you.”

His laughter loud in the car as he beams at you.

“I’m feeling the same way my love, trust me though. I’m going to give it to you so good when we get home. Oh, your panties in my pocket, they still aren’t dry.”

Your mouth almost hits the floor as you had completely forgotten about your panties, or rather lack of.

Holiday traffic was surprisingly light and you made it home in record time. That could have been because Rami was driving well over the speed limit and he may have run a red light or two in his own eagerness to get you home so that he can ravish you the way he was absolutely dying to.

He was insistent that at least you bring the food that your mom had sent home with you into the house before you took off towards the bedroom. Since he’s the one that had the food you beat him there, and was in the process of trying to pull your dress off when you felt him come up behind you.

His hands grasped your zipper and slowly lowered it, sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders, silently watching your dress pool at your feet. Stepping out of your shoes you turn your body to face him.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, his hands coming up to cup your face. Your lips meet and the kiss started softly but quickly turned into a deep passionate one, his fingers in your hair. Your body always responsive to his, your hands on his hips pulling him closer to you. Feeling his erection straining against his pants, you find your fingers fumbling to undo his belt in your haste to have him fuck you as he had promised earlier in the afternoon.

He pulls your hands away and sheds his clothing at lightning speed, his cock bouncing as it was finally freed for only the second time today from the constraints of his pants.

The hungry look on his face had your pussy quivering with excitement as his hands shove you hard causing you to stumble and land on your back on your mattress. You two had had enough teasing today and you were both eager to just finally be able to join as one.

His body slinking up yours between your open legs, he takes himself in his hand as guides himself to your entrance. Letting out your first unrestrained moan of the day as he slides himself into you until he is bottomed out. He looks down and watches himself disappear into you, before he pulls back and almost completely out of you, then slides himself back into you. His breathy moan was so hot that you involuntarily clenched around him and he hissed.

“Keep that up baby and I won’t last more than five seconds.”

“God Rami, fucking move. I can’t take this anymore, I just want you to fuck me. Make me scream like you promised.”

He says nothing but he slams himself into you hard and you did scream. His hips slamming into yours hitting your G spot every time, and with each thrust of his hips you claw at the sheets. Rami’s large hands find their way to your hips, his grip bruising as fucks into you at a brutal pace.

Your breath coming in short ragged pants, as you bring your hands up to his neck trying to hold on as he fucks you hard. Your legs acting on their accord have wrapped themselves around his waist, which subtly changed the angle, and you can feel yourself already rushing towards an orgasm.

Incoherent ramblings spilling from your lips as he continues to fuck you, your head thrown back, fingers clawing at his shoulders when you feel that pleasure starting in the pit of your stomach.

“Ohhhhhh fuckkkkkkkk…..yesssssssss…. Godddddddd yessssss…. Ramiiiiiiii... I’m gonna… oh fuck… RAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII” you scream as your walls clench and unclench around his cock.

Screaming his name out, you feel his hips begin to slow as he follows you into O-Town, your name being the only thing leaving his lips, as his eyes were screwed tightly shut. You can feel his warm essence spill into you, his hips still moving as he rides out his orgasm.

You both collapse back onto the bed, chests heaving, tightly wrapped in each others arms. Your right hand coming up to card your fingers through his sweat soaked hair, as your lips find his for a soft kiss, with you both pressed forehead to forehead.

“God baby I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” was his response.

“Merry Christmas my love. I hope you had a great day today, because I know I did.” you smile softly at him your face now buried in his chest, as his fingers run down your back lazily drawing little patterns over your sweaty skin.

“Me too. We still have to go spend Christmas with my family tomorrow though. Are you prepared for that?” he asks, voice tinged with amusement.

“Well if it is anything like today, I’m sure I’ll be just fine.” you half heartedly laugh out.

“I’m sure arrangements can be made, though I’m not sure my brother would appreciate it.”

@mrhoemazzello @xmxisxforxmaybe @itsme690 @txmel @theultraviolencefan @ramimedley @r-ahh-mi @doing-all-write @mezzomercury

#Rami Malek #Rami Malek Smut #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Rami Malek Imagine #Rami Malek Christmas #Christmas Smut #Christmas #Enjoy lovelies #Please leave me feedback #Requests are open

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migleefulmoments · 5 years ago

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"Hahaha. A friend pointed this out. W online shops too!" What does this even mean?! I don't know anyone in 2020 who doesn't online shop besides my 80 year old grandparents because they refuse to learn how to use a computer 😂 I don't get how Will, a 30 something year old man, online shopping is worthy enough for Abby to comment on it. I'm sure Chris does it too. And Darren.

On Nov 5, Darren wrote this post and the cc fandom lost their shit.

They decided that organizing 10 costumes for multiple events in two different states for two different people was not worthy of acknowledgment- especially since they wore several purchased costumes. They spent the next 30-ish days mocking her “online shopping skills” like the petty idiots they are and now they bring it up two months later.

Anonymous asked: this is funny, C posted a photo of beard, D posted photos with the beard. Almost like they were sitting next to each other and saying “ok ok I will say this”

ajw720 answered: The only difference, C controls his SM and the bearding, D does not, but they knew the Halloween post was coming when C posted his belated b-day wishes (not that he acknowledged they were late).

It really is, if you can remove the very human, tragic element, like a script for a really bad D Movie. C posts “Happy Birthday, Babe!” a day after the man’s actual b-day and “D” praises his fake bride for MAKING TEN costumes. Sure praise her if she actually designed them and sat with her sewing machine. No, she went online and ordered things (I doubt she even went to a store). And 3 couple costumes were cheap frankly. The only thought was how narcissistic she could be in their execution (as @flowersintheattic254pointed out even the Mario costume had a reason, it was a reminder of Japan and the fake encagement by referring to the ad that paid for their trip there).

And seriously how are people not questioning that she spent the entirety of her month picking TEN costumes? Who has time for this? I know, i know, a person whose only role in life is to play fake plus one.

I am just so tired by D in particular being utterly dragged down by the useless dead weight by his side and his team’s sole ambition to promote her and make her sound like a decent person.

If they wanted to praise her, maybe they should have forced her to participate in the zero waste initiative instead of sitting drinking by the pool or have her volunteer to help young girls who have been kicked out of their homes, or have been raped. Or pick any cause and truly volunteer her time to promote it. If she is not going to actually get a job and pursue a career, please force her to do something that is actually of value and contribute something good to the world. But to praise her for picking TEN costumes?

Praise that comes from a man who this year alone won three awards, is starring in a show he created and wrote the music for, has his first big movie premiere this week, is exec producer and star of a huge show on N/etflix, just announced his starring role with 2 A++ lists actors next spring on Broadway, celebrated the 5th anniversary of the festival he created, volunteered his time for the zero waste initiative, performed at several charity events, and was just yesterday name limited series actor of the decade. Where is the praise for him from his “bride”? He at least deserves it.

How do they not see how ridiculous it is for someone with D’s accomplishments in 2019 alone praise a person for purchasing TEN costumes for Halloween? And stans, how do you accept that this is right or normal. You really know nothing about him and have such little respect for him as a person if you continue to accept the character his idiotic team has created on his behalf. It is so far from the person he is and that he generally holds himself out to be when given the opportunity.

This isn’t about being a “gay fetishist” or “hating woman” this is about wanting for D to be fairly and accurately represented and no longer forced to participate in this stupid, life sucking game to promote a person that contributes absolutely nothing to the world. If you want to have a strong female role model, there are so many, i’ve talked about a few in the past few days (thus far Nancy, Lea, and Phoebe) and will continue to do so, but please stop worshiping a person whose sole reason you are speaking about her is her connection to D, even if you refuse to accept it is fake.

klainecentric Finished reading the funniest ig story of the day, the qween being praised for sitting in front of either a sewing machine or computer...bravo your majesty qween....your my hero well done.👏👏. And all I can think of is how irrelevant the statement D made about being an emotional horder, being a very private person and finally D saying he's lazy when it comes to social media, I'm internally screaming in frustration because yeah we know D wouldn't have written a post praising that lazy good for nothing waste of space but he's coming across as a lier and it's extremely damaging to his character as a person. I absolutely hate lying and every time another "private" moment is posted to the world is another small piece that's chipped away from what D has originally stated about privacy. PBB, nobody cares about your cheap arse highly flammable costumes you buy online, did you forget about your piano baby adult strip club. I'm sure there are still plenty of people out there you can hire to rub and flaunt their flanges all over the beer taps, why don't you keep busy on that instead. If you want to make costumes, I'm sure you can sew some mighty fine titty tassels together. It'll be cheap nasty, sound familiar.

souly So, let me get this straight. We should all praise a person for going online, looking up different costumes in online stores, putting those in their shopping basket and hitting “buy”? Because I do that at least once a week with other stuff. Do I get praised for that now? Pretty please? I’m doing good work there and buy a lot of stuff, therefore I must be the best person ever!

notes-from-nowhere You’re my Queen. Please, love me.

souly

(I think I got it right. I’m getting the hang of what said person is doing. Wheee! ;))

notes-from-nowhere You nailed it 🤣

ajw720 Yesterday I got a delivery of car food. And instead of his usual seafood mix up greats, I got him shrimp flavor. I’m awesome!!!!!

souly Oh, hey! I think we should all take pictures of whatever we bought online during the week or month and make individual posts on all of our social media accounts about it. Because, you know…

cassie1022 I picked up stuff I ordered online at Target and PetSmart. Does that count? Should I receive accolades because my cat will have fresh litter to do her business on?

souly Only if you post the pictures to prove it! ;)

ajw720 As soon as I get home. Pictures forthcoming. Shrimp cat treats and I also got a burgundy blanket for my new comforter!!! Life goals!!!!!!!!!!!

souly Okay, so, let’s see… What did I buy online during the past month that can be shared as pictures? Some things are gifts, so I obviously can’t post anything about those yet. But I think these here are safe.

Let’s start with one of my fav new shirts. (Excuse the grainy quality. I had to quickly edit it for privacy reasons. :p And yes, that’s a butterfly mirror.)

The rest are behind the cut to save your dash from drowning in too many pictures. ;)

cheekyface72 You’re my queen from now on…

ajw720 I think emmy/sag/gg/CC winner DC should write a post @soulypraising your awesome, amazing, unparalleled online shopping skills! You earned that praise. That cat toy is particularly spectacular.

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

Just A Taste of M’s Amazing Online Shopping Skills that are worthy of such Praise

ajw720

Super Mario with inflatable Dragon $54.66 (x)

Princess Peach $78.99 (x)

chrisdarebashfulsmiles. i can’t

flowersintheattic254. When you add the fact that the wedding was sponsored so heavily, and her history of outfits I think it shows Mi@rren is something that’s always been done very much ‘on the cheap’.

From work vacays (honeymoon included), RC ‘glue gun’ looks, thrift shoes and subsidized weddings.

It’s BUDGET BEARDING!!!

leka-1998. It’s not worth more than this, that’s for sure.

notes-from-nowhere We are so ungrateful. She worked hard to find the gloves.

I bet she had to click on another link to find them. She deserves another accolade.

ajw720 @flowersintheattic254 Budget Bearding! I LOVE It! (and something tells me D’s SW costume in particular was far cheaper than either of these).

souly That Snow White dress can be found for about $25 in a ton of online shops. I stumbled upon it even before Halloween way too many times. 😂

@notes-from-nowhere The plush question mark block can be found in a couple online stores like this one. She simply glued it onto some gloves - or asked L to do it with that glue gun of hers.

flowersintheattic254 Well funnily enough I think we may have confirmation that 🚽🚽 glued on the puppies so I guess YES to the question mark block too!!!

cassie1022 They can’t even glue things properly. Why am I not surprised?

leka-1998

So, so amazing. Bow to the kween and her not so helpful helper.

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

There are lots more...I figured enough of your brain cells died reading the ones I posted. On Nov 30 she is STiLL bringing it up”

Anonymous asked:

Whenever I see miarren gifset they always use the same quote underneath (the rolling the windows down quote) and at first I rolled my eyes and thought uh not that quote again, and I can't believe it took me this long to realise it's because there is literally no other quote that can be construed as loving. You can hardly put down "she's a big girl" whenever you make a set of gifs with M beaming and D looking like someone murdered the dog he's allergic to.

ajw720: And I love the Emmy quote as it was an absolute reference to his character who was a psychopath. Pretty telling if you ask me. But that reference is over their heads.

And pretty much the only one. Guess saying he’s a ball and chain kind of guy isn’t romantic. They can’t even take pooping exes as he clearly steered the conversation away from her. Lovely lady of many moons? Nah she sounds like a stranger. Saying nothing changes after marriage? Sounds boring. It’s a struggle. But hey she’s an excellent online shopper that he done got hitched to!!!

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keelywolfe · 6 years ago

Text

FIC: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew; part 7

Summary: Rus gets answers which is kind of a problem, since he didn’t even know there were questions.

Tags: heatfic, dubious consent, NSFW, frenemies to lovers, mates, first time, more if I think of them

PLEASE READ THE TAGS: This is a Heat story, so there are going to be issues of consent. I don’t do partner rape, nope, but hey, I want to be straight with y’all. I like heatfics personally, but I understand how they can be troubling for some people. So there it is.

Read Chapter 1

Read Chapter 2

Read Chapter 3

Read Chapter 4

Read Chapter 5

Read Chapter 6

Read Chapter 7 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Rus always enjoyed sex. The Underground could be boring as shit and that was a fact. A librarby of books and Napstatton on the tube at all hours didn’t change that, and a good, rousing bout of the pokey-pokey was a great way to kill time, helped to ease the pressure of a mountain pushing down on them. Plus, afterward, it put everyone in the mood for a nice, long nap.

Really, it was a win-win.

He had to admit, though, of all the sex he’d had, all the one-night stands, the afternoon delights, the quick morning-afters, no one had ever brought him breakfast in bed. Come to think of it, he couldn’t recall anyone bringing him so much as a cup of coffee, so for Edge to come up with a tray, loaded down with delicious-smelling things including the gorgeous aroma of liquid caffeine, well, this already put his bout of mercy sex above most of his other encounters.

“please say one of those is for me,” Rus begged. He didn’t, quite, put it past Edge to bring up two cups of coffee for himself, even taking into consideration how their last bout of morning sex went; Edge pushing him with unexpected gentleness down into the blankets and maybe those teeth were sharp as hell but he sure as fuck knew how to use that mouth of his.

It hadn’t exactly stayed gentle, either, not that Rus wanted to register any complaints.

His memory of the heat sex was a little blurry, swallowed up in the haze of pheromones. This morning? Eh, Rus could lie, but what was the point? It had been damn good sex, and Rus knew from past experience you didn't really have to like someone for that. The possibility of breakfast, now, that would raise Edge in his esteem.

“It is,” Edge confirmed, earning himself a shit-ton of unspoken accolades. He set the tray on the bed and nudged one of the plates at Rus. His eye lights were all for the coffee, though, and he snagged one of the cups, draining half of it in one gulp. The pancakes didn’t wait long, and Rus couldn’t help a groan as he took a bite of the honey-soaked stack. One thing no one could argue was that Edge knew how to cook; his pancakes were actually better than Blue’s, Rus could tell that much, even if he was hungry enough to chow down on fried chunks of dog biscuit.

So, if he were keeping track, thus far Rus could mark down one night of heat sex, one surprisingly pleasant shower, one morning of extremely surprisingly good morning-after sex followed by a long nap, and a damn good breakfast. He was starting his day in the green, for sure.

“We need to talk.”

Aaaaand, there it went, right back into the red.

“aw, man,” Rus sighed. Of course, Edge would have to go there. At the end of the day, everything had turned out okay, better even than he could have hoped. No dust pans required, good sex had been had. And now Edge wanted to open up his mouth and ruin it all. He should’ve known. Rus pushed a bite of pancake around the plate moodily, sopping up some extra dregs of honey. “you’re going to make it weird.”

That made Edge rear back a little, blinking in surprise, “What? I’m not going to make it weird. There are simply a few things we need to discuss.”

“see?” Rus said accusingly. “weird!” Damn the pancakes and coffee for tempting him, he should have ditched while he had the chance. He could have gone home, practiced a little careful repression, and moved on from all of this by the next movie night. Breakfast should have made him suspicious from the get-go. That’d probably been part of Edge’s plan from the beginning, tasty bait for the idiot who should have fucked off a few hours ago.

“I am not going make it weird!” Edge snapped. Like it wasn’t already strange, seeing that familiar constipated irritation while Edge was sitting there in his pajamas. “Must you...never mind, of course you must.” He took a long, slow breath, obviously bracing himself to make things weird.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to cut this off at the pass.

“look, i get that you’re probably feeling kinda ‘eh’ about all this,” Rus gestured vaguely at the bed with his fork, only just catching a drip of honey from falling on the sheets. “but it wasn’t really any of your fault, so tell you what. let’s just bury it all and plant a tree on it. doesn’t really need any talking about, does it?”

Rus took another bite of pancake, because fuck it, they were already here. May as well enjoy his bribe. “i mean, this has been a lot of fun and all,” he winced the moment he said it, abort, abort, the plan was to not make this weird. “um, i mean, not fun, it wasn’t as bad as i was expecting…not that it was bad! it was good, i…fuck, make my mouth stop talking.”

This was why Rus never got breakfast in bed, he really was shit at the morning after.

Edge, who’d been sitting there staring at him while all those words came flopping uselessly out, said in that nerve-gratingly dry way of his, “Let me talk for a moment, then.”

He slipped a hand beneath the blanket, curling it around Rus’s bare ankle. For a long moment, Rus didn’t get it, like, was ‘talking about this’ a euphemism for let’s go one more round? Because Rus was pretty sure his crotch wasn’t going to speak to him for week, at least.

Then Edge added, “I want you to promise not to leave until I’m done. You owe me that much.”

That hand made a lot more sense, all of a sudden, a calculated move to keep him from shortcutting away. Fucking hell, this was all so…so Underfell, everything planned from the moment the pancake batter hit the griddle. Trying to fight loose would get him exactly nowhere, his little spat with Red proved that much, but the temptation to try was pretty fucking hard to resist.

“i owe you?” Rus ground out. “that’s what you think? i helped you, you dick!”

“You did,” Edge agreed, and that made Rus’s growing anger falter. He hadn’t expected Edge to actually agree with him. “But the fact remains that I did not ask for nor did I want your help. That leaves me in the unique position of appreciating what you did and still being angry that you did it. So, if you could please be quiet for a few minutes and listen to me?”

How was it that the fact that Edge wasn’t wrong only made Rus all the more pissed off?

“fine,” Rus said, grudgingly. He pushed his plate away, tugging the blanket up a little higher since Edge obviously wasn’t going to let him go long enough to put on his damn pants.

Edge set his own empty plate back on the tray. “How much did my brother tell you about heats?”

Rus only crossed his arms over his rib cage and looked at him.

After a moment of silence, Edge said impatiently, “Well?”

“you told me to be quiet and listen.”

Edge closed his sockets and pressed a knuckle into the spot over his nasal aperture as if he was getting a headache. “Do you want to stay here all day discussing this or could we get it over with?”

“fine, fine,” Rus grumbled. He hoped that headache took over Edge’s whole skull. He hoped it was bad enough that Red could feel it. Speaking of… “your brother didn’t tell me shit—" Rus stopped and gave Edge a narrow look, “how do you know it was red who got me here?”

Edge favored him with a humorless smile. “Who else would have sent you to check on me? It wasn’t difficult to narrow the pool of suspects.”

“fair,” Rus admitted. Wasn’t like anyone was going to post it to the Undernet, he supposed. ‘Tall, asshole skeleton, needs a good time in a bad way.’ “anyway, he didn’t tell me anything that i didn’t already know. i found an old science journal in underswap, it gave me the gist.”

Edge nodded. “And did that book of yours discuss bonding?”

“not…really?” Not that he remembered. He’d been a little distracted by all that info about biting and marking, but he was pretty fucking sure he’d remember something that sounded so ominous.

The hand on his ankle tightened a fraction. Edge wasn’t wearing his normal gloves, the bone on bone contact scraped a little. “Technically speaking, any partner with the appropriate genitals can get you through a heat cycle. Most often the night ends with nothing more than a small scar and possibly a fond memory. But on rare occasions, there can be a…residual effect.”

“what kind of residual effect?” Rus asked suspiciously.

The slow, deliberate way Edge was talking did not make Rus feel better about any of this. “There can be a certain level of commitment with an actual, truly compatible mating.”

“okay, yeah, you just said the bad word, i’m going to go home now.” But the grip on his ankle was implacable, almost painful, and Rus wasn’t liking his odds of fighting out of it. He wasn’t liking any of this, not a stars-damned word, and the pancakes, which should have settled nicely into his magic, were instead making it churn into something close to nausea.

Edge only kept talking, slowly and carefully, “Most Monsters can move on easily after a simple heat mating. But in some instances, the marking becomes a more,” he hesitated, then added, softer yet, “permanent bond.”

“please, stop.” Rus barely managed to whisper it, almost a plea, because he didn’t want to hear this, didn’t want to hear any of it, he wanted to go home, he—

“I can’t,” Edge said, and his gentleness was so much worse than any anger he’d ever shown. “You need to know this, because it’s going to affect you during my next heat.”

“your what now?” Rus said blankly.

“My next heat. Since you didn’t catch pregnant, this will happen again.”

“um, yeah, i can’t get pregnant!” Every time Rus thought Edge had said the worst thing, he scraped up the dregs from the bottom of this fucked-up barrel and found something else. “my cunt is there for the entertainment value only!”

“I'm aware of that, but until someone figures out how to inform my body, I’ll keep going into heat.”

Rus could only laugh, too-high and sharp, because it was starting to become very clear that, in the end, the joke was on him, wasn’t it always? “i’m not exactly a dick whisperer! red said the first one is the worst!”

“Yes, that’s true,” Edge agreed. “After a first heat, they aren’t as intense, and the chances of a mating bond goes down. But if you already have a mate, then the objective is reproduction. And the next time I go into heat, so will you.”

“what??”

Edge sighed impatiently. “What exactly do you think being mates means? The risk of bonding was always there; it started from the moment I marked you and finished with consummation.”

“i…” He hadn’t thought about it, what mates meant, and he didn’t have a fucking clue what bonded meant. “so, you want me to believe that a bunch of monsters are wandering around with some kind of mating bond in underfell?”

“Not at all. Most Monsters prefer to go through their heats alone rather than risking it and either survive or don’t. My brother’s first heat almost killed him.”

None of this made any damn sense, Rus hadn’t been hanging around with the science-types for a while now, but even he could see that. “so how the hell do you keep your population up if no one uses heats for what they’re for?”

He felt Edge’s hand flex on his ankle as he hesitated, his thumb moving in a circle as if trying to soothe, then with gentle candor, “That is not a question you want to hear the answer to.”

From what he’d heard of their King, Rus suspected it was true. He shook his head, trying to ignore where his own headache was starting to blossom. “no. no, no, no, i didn’t sign on for this!”

“Neither did I. We both know who signed us up for this.”

Any gentleness vanished with those words, gone hard and cold, and without even thinking, Rus blurted out, “don’t hurt him!”

That caught Edge off guard. He blinked, visibly surprised. “Really?” Edge sounded almost amused, certainly disbelieving. “He set you up and you’re protecting him? I was expecting you to demand his dust in a jar after this.”

Rus cringed. No matter how he felt about Red, he was still sort of wearing Blue’s face. He didn’t want that, never that. “he’s your brother!”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t understand what he’s capable of.” Again, that same little soothing motion of his thumb against his ankle, and Rus fought the urge to try and yank his foot away. “I am not about to hurt him. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“don’t. don’t apologize to me, i can’t.” Rus took a shaky breath and tried to think. This was all too much information, way too much, he couldn’t sort through it all. “i don’t understand. what makes you think we are having this ‘residual effect’?” He didn’t like that other word, didn’t even want to think it. “how do you even know you aren’t still just, i dunno, heated?”

Edge lifted his other hand towards him and then seemed to think better of it when Rus couldn’t help flinching. “I knew when I didn’t want you to leave. When I could feel you, this morning. Here.” He touched the center of his own chest, right over his soul, and it was all Rus could do to keep himself from yanking away and fleeing in a blind panic.

Not because he didn’t believe him, but because he did. Edge had no reason to lie and if he was saying they were going to be crotch buddies going forward, then it was the truth. But, fuck, he didn’t want to believe, he didn’t, he couldn’t.

His mouth seemed to be in agreement. “i don’t feel shit!”

“Not yet. I was the one in heat, I would be more sensitive to it. It will develop further over more matings.”

“no. no, no, no, no no, this was not the deal! i don’t want to feel you, ‘right here’!” He slapped a hand over his chest, hard enough for the bones to clack. The blanket started slipping and Rus caught it, yanking it back up.

Edge raised his voice a little, talking over him, with that same calm, almost gentle tone. “It’s going to affect you more than that because soon you’ll start going into your own heats.”

Okay, what the fuck—

“no,” Rus said flatly. “monsters from underswap don’t go into heat.”

“That would have been true before I put my magic inside you. Even if we hadn’t bonded, that much was going to be true.” A certain sourness twisted Edge’s expression. “Red could have warned you about that, at least.”

“put your magic inside me?” Rus laughed harshly, he had to laugh, this was all such a joke. “is that what we’re calling fucking now?”

“If it was only fucking, we wouldn’t have this problem. But like it or not, we’re bound together in this.”

“bound,” Rus said aloud, tasting the word. It was bitter, wrong, but that was the real word for it, wasn’t it? “okay, so you said you can ‘feel’ me.” Rus made little finger quotes, catching the blanket as it started to slip again. “so what, this bonding thing, what does it do? you feel what i feel, all that shit? read my mind?”

“Of course not, nothing so direct.” But Edge looked away, his eye lights sliding lower, down to the blankets.

“uh huh. and how does it do it indirectly?”

Softly, he said, “I can feel that you’re frightened."

“uh, yeah, you don’t need some kind of fucking bond to know that. i don’t want to be bonded at all and sure as fuck not to someone who hates me!”

“I don’t hate you.” His free hand, resting on his knee, curled into a fist, hiding the sharpened tips of his fingers.

That was worth another laugh, “you’ve got a really fucking strange way of showing it! you’ve been an asshole since we met.”

“Yes. We aren’t good for each other. You infuriate me. You test me. But I’ve never hated you.”

“okay, stop,” Rus said unsteadily. “you need to stop.”

“And I believe the bond really isn’t as much of a problem as you’re thinking,” Edge said, a touch briskly. Like he thought somehow that they were winding towards the end and, oh, well, here’s how it is now, everything’s fine. “It’s hardly more than vague impressions, I expect you could get as much information from reading someone’s expressions. The point is supposed to be to form a closer bond to your mated to produce stronger offspring. A better soul connection results in offspring with higher HP and Magic levels.”

“this is so fucking stupid! why the fuck would we bond, we can’t make offspring!”

Edge smiled thinly. He was still looking at the blankets. “I’m afraid you’ll have to take that up with evolution.”

“okay…okay…this is…this will be fine,” Rus said, slowly, as much to himself as to Edge. “we just need to fuck every once in a while, that’s all.”

“More or less.”

Okay, he could do that. What was a little sex from time to time, right, he already knew Edge was pretty good in the sack. Except— “what if i want to fuck around?”

“I wouldn’t begin to dictate what you do with your own body,” Edge said. As though he didn’t stiffen, that curled fist tightening with a creak of bone. “Mating is a biological function, not a marriage proposal. So long as neither of us are in heat, it shouldn’t matter.”

“yeah, that would’ve been more convincing if you unclenched your teeth.”

“The heat still hasn’t quite cleared my system,” Edge said defensively. “You smell—“

“i smell?” Rus groaned. It was something else to focus on and his mind snatched it up gratefully. “fuck, really? i can’t go home stinking like—"

“Enticing,” Edge finished. He looked up then, his eye lights sliding over Rus, lingering on his exposed collar bone where the bite mark was still healing, and Rus realized with sudden, cold clarity exactly why Edge was trying to keep his eye lights down.

“oh,” Rus said, a little blankly. And for a split-second, a wild surge of pure lust shot through him, from his soul straight down to his aching crotch where a sputter of magic made an attempt at a pussy before Rus ruthlessly squashed it.

Bonded. Yeah. Now he was getting it.

“this wasn’t the deal,” Rus said, again, thinly, hating the whine in his voice, hating fucking everything. This was supposed to be a one-time gig, keeping Edge from dying, it wasn’t supposed to be this, not any of this.

“I know. I’m sorry.” The real sympathy in Edge's voice only made it worse.

“i can’t—” breathe. “—think. i need to go. let me go.” It was closer to begging than Rus preferred but right now, he couldn’t give two shits.

“All right.” And maybe Edge was trying to say he didn’t hate Rus, yeah, whatever, but in that moment, Rus hated him. Because Edge knew he could let go, he knew it. Because he also knew Rus couldn’t really get away from him. Not anymore.

The very second Edge’s hand was off his ankle, Rus was gone, dragging the blanket with him down to the machine. With shaking hands, he inputted the code and went through the portal, stumbling over the trailing hem into his own basement.

He shortcutted right up to his own room, kicking aside socks and empty honey bottles to reach his bed where he curled up on the mattress in a sheet that still smelled like sex, his magic and Edge’s together.

Bonded.

Sleeping was more like self-defense and Rus didn’t try to think, not about anything. He only closed his sockets and let the world fade away.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #biting off more than you can chew

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littlesin · 7 years ago

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to be fair your moulding this image of him way more than he is. dacre has spoken often about his family & how close he is with his mom & the fact that he has coffee with her everyday. does he need to post about that on instagram for it to mean something to you? & it's summer so yeah expect him to be at parties/festivals. does he also need to be a quirky indie boi like joe to be #relatable or can he have other interests such as design & script writing which he has stated and is pursuing? ease up

Of all the passive-aggressive shadethat’s slid into my inbox from those previous asks, none of you have answeredmy question: What has Dacre given you to stan for? And here is a new question:What has Dacre done to counter the messy image of him that is out there rightnow?

I really wantto know, because all I’ve gotten so far is “but he said 3 years ago that he hascoffee with his mom every morning” “but he’s mentioned his sister a few timesduring PR press” “but he said he wants to be an interior designer” “but…but…that one time he mentioned wanting to write scripts” “but don’t you understandthat all that stuff makes him so deep?”

Like *sigh*,ok, let’s start with the family. No one said he didn’t love his family. I suredidn’t. And that’s all I’m going to say about his family because I don’t thinkit’s fair to drag them into this. I have my opinions on how his mom may have dotedon him a little too much, which may have contributed to what I personallyperceive as a prematurely inflated ego, but his family is kind of off limits tome unless they insert themselves, which they haven’t.

To the “interestin interior design.” Having an interest in interior design is great, but whatexactly has he done to show an actual interest in interior design besidesmentioning he likes it, and lifting photos from real professional designer’s websitesto post on his Instagram mood board because they make it look pretty? There isthe “internship” with the celebrity interior designer in L.A. which is fine andgood, but I’m inclined to side-eye that because he has zero interior designbackground/training yet he managed to get an internship with a prominent designer.This sounds like a vanity internship that flatters his ego and gives virtuallyfree promotion to Adam Hunter. I wonder which new designer fresh out of collegeapplied for that internship and lost it because Dacre Montgomery wanted it. Butthat’s just my very personal opinion.

As far as the“script writing” goes, once again, good for him for having a hobby. However, I’mside-eying the hell out of this because writing requires heighten observation skills,not only of your surroundings, but also of the human condition. You have to beable easily empathize and sympathize and get under the skin of people, and notjust the people that are like you, but also the people that are not like you. Idon’t think he is capable of this. His ass backwards, tone deaf characteranalysis of Billy is an example. He was more excited about discussing Billy’s wardrobethan he was about who Billy actually is. Him being so focused on the aestheticsof Billy doesn’t surprise me, but his ignorant, offhand comments about theimmigration/wall debate going on in the U.S. during the PR press tour also hadme like WTF. He strikes me as a typical white guy who, if something doesn’tdirectly affect him, isn’t interested in the intricacies of the issue and howit can affect other people. How is he supposed to be a screenwriter if this isthe case? How is he supposed to write three dimensional, layered, diversecharacters? You can chock it up to him being young, but if that’s what it is,then he should focus on living more life and expanding his horizons rather thentrying to be a jack of all trades, yet master of none because he has a shit tonof free time on his hands and it strikes his fancy. But as always, that’s justmy VERY personal opinion.

RegardingJoe, I don’t even fangirl Joe, but the previous ask brought him up and I wentwith it because I like Joe and have opinions about him. Do I need Dacre to be “indieboi” like Joe to relate to him? No. Dacre is his own person. People can berelatable in different ways. The problem I have with Dacre is that he doesn’treally seem to be committed to anything except the benefits and accolades thatbeing a successful actor can bring. It’s fine that he’s committed to that, but he,and the fandom, need to be honest about it. His attempts to beef himself up by proclaiminghe’s passionate about things he seems only mildly interested in to appear “deepand artsy” is silly to me. But Dacre is a grown ass man and he can do what hewants. However, I’m a free bitch and I’m not required to indulge the fuckery.

The bottomline, at least for me, is this: the idea that fans are required to pledgeultimate fealty to an actor to pass someone else’s fandom litmus test is ridiculous.We are not required to be grateful for crumbs and displays of bad behavior ifwe don’t want to. It is not a cardinal sin to recognize shenanigans and callyour fave out on them. It’s ok to critique your fave and even criticize them whenyou feel it is needed. Why? Because you have spent your time and your hard-earnedcoin supporting that person. They don’t owe you their first-born child, but itis also not wrong for you to expect a return on your investment. The fandom,and this is my very person opinion, is not seeing a return on that investment,which is why I’m pretty much out the door. We can disagree about this all daylong, which is fine, but people have the right to differing opinions, andpeople have the right not to “ease up” if they are witnessing messiness anddecide not to be here for it.

#anonymous #anon ask #dacre montgomery

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onestowatch · 4 years ago

Text

Kenny Mason Is Aiming to Become the Biggest Artist in the World [Q&A]

Photo: Nasser Boulaich

If you’re a fan of Radiohead and Young Thug, then we have the new project for you. You probably already know about Kenny Mason, whose synthesis of shoegaze, hip-hop and grunge made headlines last year following the release of his debut album Angelic Hoodrat.

This week, the Atlanta rapper returns to us with Angelic Hoodrat: Supercut, a twelve-track spiritual successor featuring some of the most dynamic and abrasive hip-hop tracks seen this year. Coinciding with its release, fans are also being treated to a visual for Mason’s new track “Much Money” with Freddie Gibbs.

Angelic Hoodrat: Supercut makes an incredibly strong case for Mason’s spot in the Atlanta hip-hop Hall of Fame. Whether rapping with a steadfast intensity on ethereal cuts like “Fasho” or singing on the genre-breaking “Breathe” with Ambar Lucid, Kenny Mason’s risk-taking performances are consistently at the top of his game. Pulling from a wide range of influences like Princess Loko, Koopsta Knicca, and Tommy Wright III this time around, Angelic Hoodrat: Supercut might be Mason’s boldest project to date.

Mason’s approach frequently resembles a swarm-like onslaught of syllables delivered over an infectiously chaotic mix, with the end result being a masterfully-crafted bout of hard-hitting lyrical genius. If you missed his debut last year, now is the perfect chance to become a fan. Joined by guests like Denzel Curry and Freddie Gibbs, Mason’s Angelic Hoodrat Supercut is not a project to mix.

Prior to the release of Angelic Hoodrat: Supercut, I was fortunate enough to sit down and talk with Kenny Mason. We discussed our love of live shows, the insane past year he’s had, and everything in between.

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Ones To Watch: This week you’re giving fans 12 new tracks, but the album is called Angelic Hoodrat: Supercut. What relationship do you feel this new record has with the one you released a year ago?

Kenny Mason: A lot of the songs on this record we made during the sessions of the last album, so they have the same energy. It’s not that these were the ones I didn’t pick, I knew that we were going to do a deluxe, but we kept making songs throughout the pandemic. So it was like, “I like all of these, even the new ones, and the ones with features on them. We’re just going to do a whole Supercut and make it separate,” because stylistically I don’t really like having a 30 song tracklist. But it is truly a deluxe, just separated.

I’m glad that you brought up features, because this time around you host a wide range of guests–Denzel Curry, Freddie Gibbs, Ambar Lucid, Angel White. What was the creative process like making this record, especially when it came down to the collaboration.

Ambar Lucid came to Atlanta for a minute, I met her and she worked on the song. Angel was in the studio with me too, me and Angel have been friends for a minute, and I’ve always really liked his music. Their features were more in-person, but Denzel... he’s been fucking with me, so I already knew that I wanted to have a song with him. People had been asking about it, but I originally released “A+” on YouTube. Everybody was kicking my ass about it not being on streaming, so that was the last song where I was like “Oh this has to be on the deluxe, because people are going to be upset.” Freddie Gibbs came out of nowhere, my manager sent my song to him just to show him–I don’t even know if it was intended for him to get on the song–but bro got on it. Freddie Gibbs is one of my favorite rappers so that shit sent me!

In collaborating with Freddie Gibbs you’ve had a pretty insane year. In some of the press you got around the time of Angelic Hoodrat’s release, you mentioned that the ‘Angelic’ denoted your desire to make music for the people who needed it, and ‘Hoodrat’ meant wanting to be big, wanting to be a star while still being yourself. With this year being so fucking weird, do you feel any of that has changed?

My purpose definitely has not changed. Regardless of my success, or what people project my “success” to be, I’m still going to make music and it’s always going to be therapeutic for me. In turn, I believe this is what makes it therapeutic for other folks. I think it’s always going to be that way, despite the numbers or the other shit folks care about. I think that I have–and want–more of a responsibility to really take things to a new level, and challenge myself. I work with some real talented folks, and they amaze me and I want to be bigger for them, and I want to be the best I can because they’re going hard. I’m indebted to them. I still feel I can be the biggest artist in the world and I can help people with my music. I’ll always feel like that hopefully.

It’s great to hear that you’re both in tune with and thankful for the support you get. Touching on your desire to go harder, Angelic Hoodrat had you breezing through a ton of different genres and styles, like rock, R&B, experimental, industrial, grunge, punk, etc. Now we get tracks like “Breathe”, which share many similarities to early Radiohead cuts. Did you find yourself stylistically trying to explore other genres this time around, or were you more focused on refining your own personal sound?

Yeah it was both, and it wasn’t purposeful. You mentioned Radiohead, we made “Breathe” after I had listened to The Bends all the way through for the first time. You know I’m young, so I had to go back and revisit that, but we were listening to that in Tennessee where that song was made. I don’t think it was purposeful, more natural as a result of me fucking with it–soundscapes and palettes–and it being the same week. Also I had been listening to a lot of Texas and Memphis rap. I didn’t do it to be like, “oh this is the new shit I’m on,” it was natural because I liked it. Whatever I like I indulge in all the way. It will bleed off into what we make, especially if we all [Skufl and Julian Cruz] like it, then it will come out and be harmonious.

I’m sure you’ve noticed this, but almost every piece of coverage you received last year around Angelic Hoodrat’s release was like “Oh my god, he’s a rapper from Atlanta… and he likes The Pixies and the Smashing Pumpkins?!” Why is it such a huge deal that this guy from Atlanta likes the Pixies? Why are The Pixies and Atlanta Rap so incompatible?

Yeah, I feel you. I could have the same reaction, but I understand why. Social shit, in rap music the rockstar aesthetic isn’t a thing that a lot of artists use. There’s only like a handful of artists that dive into the music–or maybe they do and they just don’t vocalize it–but I really just like those bands. People always ask me for my top five rappers but they never ask for my top five bands, and that’s just as important. If I had a top ten list of artists I liked, Jay Z would be right next to Nirvana.

Do you feel like this puts any pressure on you to conform to the Atlanta rapper archetype? Or does it push you to be even more of yourself?

I don’t really feel any pressure from either end. I’m going to be me and like what I like regardless of who is and isn’t surprised, it’s not going to change my life. In turn, it’s not going to change what I make. It’s good, people being surprised, it’s a little culture shock. That’s more of what the world needs anyways, culture shocks and breaking down toxic norms. Also plenty of people my age like all types of shit.

You were pretty big a year ago, but I’d say that you’re on a whole new level now. What is a piece of advice you’d give to yourself a year ago based off of what you’ve learned since?

I would say “go vegan sooner”, and just “make more music.” I made a lot of music but I could always make more. I can always go harder. I was real blessed during the pandemic, and was able to make music and form new relationships from home. I probably would have done more had there not been a pandemic at the same time, but I still connected with a lot of people. I’m still real grateful for that. I still have a lot to do.

You’ve accumulated a ton of really sick accolades and accomplishments since you started rapping. You collaborated with IDK and JID on a song last summer, you’ve had a viral TikTok hit, and you’ve gotten press from some of the biggest music outlets on the planet. What do you have your eyes set on next?

Shows, looking people in the eye, and singing songs with them. I don’t care about awards or billboards, that stuff is more or less not in my control, so I’m not really fixated. I want to have huge shows, do really great live shit, and make music that goes hand-in-hand to complement that. Even if it is virtual, I would treat it just the same. Really connecting with people–that’s a priority. I can’t say for sure what that looks like, but my connection with people is the most important. All that other stuff will be a result of how strong that connection is.

Talking about shows just makes me realize how much I want to go back to that world.

It’s going to be like getting the love of your life back.

Who are your Ones To Watch?

Ah damn… Skufl, Jelani Imani, and Muddy Mya. I was listening to one of her songs last night. It’s hard to choose.

Listen to Angelic Hoodrat below:

#kenny mason #angelic hoodrat supercut #interview #rap #hip hop #album reviews

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outvoo · 7 years ago

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Interview with Chef Tu David Phu, part 2

OutVoo Interview with Chef Tu David Phu

Conducted by Ian Ippolito & Merced Gonzalez

Today we are talking to Chef Tu David Phu, a contestant on Bravo’s Top Chef, and one of Oakland’s very own. Since Oakland is where OutVoo was born, we are thrilled that Chef Phu is a fan of the app:

“Whenever I open up Yelp I want to know what’s near me and the thing I hate about Yelp is I have to type in where I am and what I’m looking for specifically. [OutVoo] does that all for me!”

What were your initial thoughts of Oakland?

When my parents first immigrated over here they landed in Oakland. My dad received a job offer in Minnesota, but after a couple of winters, and my sister getting frost bite, we returned. Basically I’ve been in Oakland all my life. I grew up in Oakland in the 90’s. It was tough. Like murder capital tough! I’m not the person to be resentful of that. I feel like within chaos and bad things there is always beauty. I think the beauty that I had growing up in Oakland was cooking with my mom, having our own little tiny garden in the tiny apartment we lived in. I found preciousness in the things we were blessed with.

Oakland is experiencing a culinary renaissance. What are your thoughts on the food scene?

I think it’s great! I think it’s more diverse now. The only thing I’m really sad about is the homeless situation. I want to invite everyone to Oakland and I think that’s beautiful, but I just wish there was more regulation on the people who were displaced.

I think the Mayor is working on a few things.

I think the issue is bigger than the Mayor of Oakland. I don’t blame the City of Oakland. It’s the flaws that we have in our systems. There is something wrong and we pour money into building more prison systems and a fraction of that could house a lot of homeless people in California.

When you complain about politics everything is intertwined. In that aspect I believe in prevention and I think prevention starts at youth.

Were you surprised by this culinary renaissance?

I’ve always believed in Oakland. I’ve always thought Oakland has so many amazing offerings. Not just cuisine wise, but also ethnic wise. There are so many different cultures. I didn’t really appreciate it until I moved away. Then when I moved away I understood that Oakland is going to blow up so hard. I moved away in 2010, I was in New York for 2 years.

Top Chef! What was it like?

It was amazing! When I signed on to the show...it was to have fun, interact, network and build a brand. I felt Top Chef was the perfect opportunity for me to tell my story to a bigger audience. I found that work very purposeful.

Coincidentally enough, there was an episode where I was able to work with immigrant women at Comal Heritage Food Incubator. I worked with South American women who made green mole and pork for me. I worked with Syrian women. I’m not sure if it was in the episode. There was a moment where we were exchanging our immigrant stories and they told me that they were in a refugee camp for 10 years. My parents were in a refugee camp for one year during the Vietnam war. I understand because I hear the stories from my family. They were telling me the stories of the hardships they went through. They looked at me and said, “All we want to do is be able to cook.” That sheer rawness of emotion and purity made me feel close to them. I felt the suffering they felt through my own family and I had this human compassion moment. I started shedding tears, Tanya Holland started sharing tears and a few of the other ethnic people started shedding tears. Some people just can’t relate and I don’t hold that against them. The ethnic immigrant story and the suffering that comes along with it is very specific. It resonates throughout generations. I see it in the blood, sweat and tears of my parents working hard every fucking day. They were janitors at the Fox Theater. I have a tattoo of it. They really did almost every laborious job you can probably think of to make ends meet. In my personal experience, specifically being on Top Chef, the most powerful thing that inspired me was that moment working with those women. And I said on TV, this is probably the best meal I’ve ever had, partly because of the stories and compassion. The centuries old recipes. They made hummus that was beautiful. They made lentil soup that was so simple but delicious. It was all hand made, they’re not fine dining trained, but at the same time I can confidently say I cannot execute the way they executed it. At that moment it just confirmed my notion and perception of cuisine and where it comes from. In that moment I championed them and continue to champion the root of cuisine which is usually mothers and aunties. The funny thing is, I’m a fine dining trained Chef, and I champion women, and that is were cuisine comes from, but that is not reflective in the industry. It’s weird to me that there is a lack of women in the industry because it’s so machismo. Not to say women should be cooking, I’m just saying that the best food I’ve ever had came mostly from women. So it’s revisiting that notion. If there is any pinnacle, peak of Top Chef, that inspired me, that would be the moment.

Has Top Chef affected your career? Has it changed your plans?

Are you talking about direct messages in Instagram? (laughter)

It gets scary sometimes. There are extreme fans and regular fans, but I think for the most part, my portrayal on the show has been very positive. And I think if you don’t give TV crap they can’t shoot crap out. I was just myself and I wasn’t trying to be anybody else. It turned out for the good.

You were a likable, lovable kind of guy, and you helped other people.

It’s not even about the point of me helping people out, I just was raised well. That’s what my parents taught me. I’ve been a Chef for a kitchen for a few restaurants and there are young cooks to this day that I keep in close relationships with. And I was very cognizant of how I behaved. I do commencement speeches and I speak to and I hang out with kids. I cook with them and I’m aware of the way I conduct myself and that what I role model could inspire and influence them in some way. At least I hope so. So that is why I try to make sure to be positive. I think it’s very important. Not all Chefs think this way. They can be egocentric, whatever it takes to win ...

It’s a competition, and you’re in a different element, some people snap.

If I’m going to beat someone, I want to beat them at their best. I don’t want to beat somebody by default. The reason why I helped out Bruce is because Bruce and I knew each other prior. We were colleagues and we had somewhat of a friendship. But I wanted to challenge Bruce, I wanted to have the opportunity to challenge Bruce. That’s the whole reason why I went on the show, I went to see my excellence versus your excellence. I’m very happy with the Top Chef cast and we’re all a family and I’m very happy with the way I did. I think just getting on the show was an accomplishment. You know how many people apply for the show? Thousands and thousands.

Was it a long process?

I went through several interviews. I applied for Season 14 and they told me to come back the next year. I came back and got on. There are some people on the show that apply like five, six times in a row, so I got lucky, food timing, they were in need of a token Asian guy! (laughter)

So the amazing and funny thing is that when I got the phone call from Paolo Lucchesi about the Rising Star Chef, the following month they called me to let me know I was on Top Chef. I was like, oh my God, somebody’s looking down on me.

And through that course of a year it was very rough, I had a friend that was murdered and I had an Uncle pass away. So it was a rough year. I felt like those were blessings from them. I’m not suggesting that I’m religious but I am spiritual and I felt like those were blessings that I’m very appreciative of, you know? Especially with family and friends and people close to you. Would I rather have the accolades and opportunity or would I rather have them? I would rather have them in my life. So that is the thing with these opportunities, more than focusing on the win, but just embracing the opportunity and just representing yourself and your story well. I feel like that is the most important thing.

Hung Thanh 1895 Fish Sauce. Tell us about this!

It’s my family’s fish sauce that we’ve been making for over a hundred years. I’m very very proud of it. I feel like---I’m trying not to be biased--but I’ve tasted a lot of product blindly among my peers, my colleagues, my friends and we all agree that my families sauce is best! (laughter)

Where can we buy it?

My sister is working on distribution to the states. The conversation has begun but to announce a release date would be premature. I don’t want to be irresponsible.

Is your cousin running the company?

Yes, he is. They’ve won tons of awards and accolades! They currently sell it in Vietnam and Japan. They even sell to some chefs in Japan and they sell to a distributor in Japan where they re-label it as a Japanese product. And they sell it in France as well too. A bunch of French Chefs in France love the stuff. And that’s the thing, if your product is good and the leading culinary nations buy from you, then you’re doing something right.

You’ve got to send me this playlist!

Chef’s Hawker Centre ...

My new baby!

I had to look up Hawker Centre

The term is derived from Singapore and the way I spell Centre everybody gives me shit for it, C-E-N-T-R-E. That’s the British way to spell Centre. It derives from Singapore but it exists all over Asia, specifically countries that exist along the South China Sea. It was a courtyard where everyone would have a kiosk and all walks of life would go there, rich, poor, that’s where you go to get your food. Period. Frequently visiting Vietnam I found a certain beauty in that. People were gathering from all different walks of life. You can have a millionaire or a government official and a peasant kid and they’re all sitting at the same table eating and they are all somewhat interacting. I wished Westerners would embrace that more. I feel like in the 2000s leading up to 2018 there is this elitism that we have that we’re not conscious of. And what it boils down to is if you want better food, better quality, it reflects in the amount you pay. So what does that suggest for poor people? That means poor people would never be found in those establishments. That means poor people would be kept far away. To remind you, I grew up fairly poor. And that is why I wanted to offer the Chef’s Hawker Centre. I wanted to offer a middle price point where it wasn’t an elitist thing. It was people from all walks of life that can join and eat, and share a table. It’s very Oakland. Even though it’s very Asian. I take that across the nation. Especially with the current political climate. Everyone is very divided. Everyone is very angry at each other. Everybody has their own reasons to be upset and I think most importantly after we get angry the next step is to stop and listen. Start to understand. Have compassion for each other. I think a great way to do that is at the dining table.

How do you find the different Chefs?

Every city I go to I try to do four seatings. Two per day. I would cook at at least one of those sittings. Just so there is a feature. Partnering with other Chefs, sponsored by Cochan555 and Feastly among other key brands which keeps the price point and the impact on the consumer low. It’s $99 for nine courses, alcohol included, it’s a great deal. It’s a very creative, outside of the box model, mainly for me personally to build my consumer base. It’s a way to market and I think it is cheaper to do that and more efficient to do that because I’m personally connecting with diners, not just through the dinners, but also through social media with a story attached.

Thank you for sitting down to interview with us!

OutVoo is available for download in the App Store.

#Outvoo #Top Chef #Food and Wine #sfchronicle #chef #cheflife #oakland #tanya holland #Bruce Kalman #Chefs Hawker Centre #cochon555 #feastly

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dancesontheedge · 8 years ago

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An age and a half ago, @tavsancuk tagged me in a 10 characters in 10 fandoms meme. I am finally filling it. I have laid myself some ground rules. I will choose and present to you, in no particular order, my ten favorite male characters. I will also include explanations for my picks. I am strongly considering doing a mirror post with my ten favorite female characters with explanations. Also, some of them are coming with fic recs. Sorry not sorry. Most of those recs will route you to FFN. That, I am a little sorry about. Since this is explanation heavy, I’ll put it under a read more.

Finn (Star Wars) This fabulous man turns his back on everything he has ever been taught because he realized it was wrong. He broke more than a decade’s worth of programming to free Poe Dameron, and then he went back for Rey despite his fear of the First Order. That takes serious guts, and I have so much respect for his character.

have you heard by peradi Finn sparks a stormtrooper revolution.

Jess Mariano (Gilmore Girls) Jess grew so much over the course of the series. We did not get to see most of it happening, but he went from a really messed up, angry at the world teenager to a well-adjusted and very successful adult (based on what we’ve seen). Also, though he and Rory had their issues as a couple, he was the only one of her boyfriends who she did not feel the need to change for.

Of Books and Music by once-was-serendipity. Instead of cutting off all contact with Rory when he left in season 3, Jess sent books with his margin-notes to Rory. We see him deal with all of his shit. Pay the Piper by Iscah McKrae. Immediately after Rory’s disastrous visit to Philadelphia, Shane contacts Jess to tell him they have a daughter who she wants not part of. Jess winds up taking full custody. Incomplete. Truths Universally Acknowledged by 12cubed. A Jane Austen report assigned by Mr. Medina spirals out of control as Taylor announces a Jane Austen festival. Season 2 style Rory/Jess pining. Tide and Moon by once-was-serendipity. Jess and Rory’s relationship over seasons 2 and 3 plays out a bit differently. Mostly, Jess get’s his shit together earlier. Incomplete.

Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) Over the course of the series, Zuko realized that his father was evil and everything he had been taught (by someone not-Uncle-Iroh) was either a lie or immoral. Once he finished being in denial about it, he took action, ultimately changing sides and working to atone for the wrong he had done when he still believed in his father.

Embers by Vathara. At the beginning of season 2, Zuko discovers the secret of healing fire, and then things get super AU, super fast. Lots of worldbuilding, and I swear to god this author’s a goddess. Has been described as “Atla in the style of Game of Thrones, minus the sex” Mismatched by Kimberly T. In season 1, Zuko discovers an Earth Kingdom baby with mismatched eyes. Because local superstition claims the baby is a witch-child and bad luck because of it, Zuko adopts him. This speeds his realization that everything he knows is wrong by quite a bit. Incomplete. Second Nature by lazyartisan. At the end of season 1, Zuko is captured at the North Pole. Angst ensues. Essentially, the author upped the stakes and ignored the “kids show” genre. Incomplete-ish. The author told the story she wanted to tell, but ends the story at the end of season 2 rather than resolving everything. She may eventually update again, she may not. Another Brother by AvocadoLove. Zuko was scarred much younger than in canon and is found by Chief Hakoda almost dead on a Fire Navy ship. Hakoda takes him in, and he is raised in the Southern Water Tribe alongside Sokka and Katara.

Steve Rogers (MCU) Steve Rogers’ moral compass is so on point it’s honestly terrifying. His entire morality basically boils down to “I don’t like bullies or trust the people in power not to be bullies,” and honestly that’s the kind of role model we all could use. He is uncompromising, but he’s right with an alarming consistency. And he’s genuine, which warms the cockles of my own way-too-honest heart. (It should, perhaps, be noted that this is why Benjamin Tallmadge is my favorite Turn character and that these traits are reflected in one of my most formative female characters, Keladry of Mindelen.)

Serenade by CSI Clue. Happy fic. Steve gets a girlfriend and everything is adorable. Choice is Not a Word a Bullet Knows series by bomberqueen17. Winter Soldier followup, so much poly capfam, at least one really awesome OC. A Pretty Boy with a Bird Tattoo by Kryptaria and rayvanfox. Steve/Bucky/Nat OT3, punk college AU. My favorite of their collaborative works (because Nat), but their other stuff (stucky, all of it) is super awesome too. Source Code by Closer. Steve is tired of everyone thinking he’s a robot clone or whatever the conspiracy theory of the week is. Freezer Burn series by Domenika Marzione. Comics/MCU mashup that follows a different Avenger in each of the major stories. Freezer Burn follows Steve, Thaw follows Clint, Revenant follows Nat.

Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds) Spencer Reid gets put through such shit by the Criminal Minds writers (and the fandom, honestly. We love to watch him suffer), but he continues to be dedicated to justice and peaceful solutions. In addition, he is one of the biggest nerds and genius’ on TV, and is generally way less obnoxious and improbable about it than others of his type. It should be noted that I am not up to date on this show, having missed almost every episode that aired while I was at University, and that I am refusing to watch the current Reid-in-prison-without-his-memory arc. Because that was a bridge too far.

Foxtrot Whiskey Bravo by Kuria Dalmatia. Reid and Elle have a friends with benefits relationship. Very unangsty for my possible Reid picks. The Comstock King’s Daughter by TheKnittingLady. Reid/OC. Reid and his date get kidnapped by an Unsub, things go better than they could. The least depressing/angsty story by this author, the story by this author requiring the fewest content/trigger warnings. This author is *very* good, but her work is pretty messed up. Writes almost exclusively Reid-centrics, usually Reid/OC. Liar by Addicted Archangel. Reid is imprisoned for a crime he did not commit. Somehow not as angsty/whumpy as the current canon storyline. Begins with his conviction, ends with his release.

Gilbert Blythe (Anne of Green Gables) Honestly, who doesn’t love Gilbert? Pining away for Anne and being generally adorable. No long winded explanation here, but can we all just take a second, think of Gilbert Blythe, and smile?

Blythe Spirit and Unromantic Ideal by Morte Rouge. The first three books of the Anne of Green Gables Series from Gilbert’s POV. I promise it’s not repetitive. Some grammar issues.

Christopher Perry/Halliwell (Charmed) This tortured soul happens to fall right in the middle of one of my favorite tropes: Time Travel. Chris travels back in time to prevent his older brother, the most powerful witch to ever live, from turning evil and taking over the world. He lost literally everyone, led the resistance, watched his brother kill his fiance, and when he went back in time was hated by the younger versions of his family for being so driven and not letting them have a life and also for breaking up his mother and father (they, of course, did not know who he was). Also, he’s a sarcastic little shit. It’s like he’s the definition of my preferred angst-button.

A Pair of Ragged Claws by cunneware. Wyatt’s most deadly assassin arrives from the future. It is revealed that she has been magically enslaved by Wyatt, and when that magic is lifted, she decides to aid Chris in his mission to prevent Wyatt from turning evil. Ultimately, it is revealed that Chris is the sisters’ son/nephew. The Last Horcrux by Stonage Woman. Crossover with Harry Potter, AU from book 6. Taking place in the original future where Wyatt is evil, with all the accompanying super-depressing things that come along with that. Harry is in his 40s, still fighting Voldemort, and essentially adopts Chris. If you would like to know where my angst-o-meter sits, this one registers at like an 8 of 10.

Edmund Pevensie (Chronicles of Narnia) Edmund is generally a shit in The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe. Nobody will argue that point with you. What’s important to me is how he grows. He decides to become worthy of Aslan’s sacrifice. He decides to live up to his sobriquet “The Just.” He acts to atone for his selfishness and live a life of service.

Harold and Morgan: Not a Romance by rthstewart. This is super a romance. Edmund got married in Narnia to a banker from the Lone Islands. It’s adorable, and I’m quite convinced she’s on the autism spectrum. The Stone Gryphon ‘verse by rthstewart. The Pevensies deal with being back in WWII England, mostly by being ridiculously badass. Not a whole ton of Edmund yet, but it’s awesome, I love everything about it, and could hardly write Narnia recs and not include it. Letting Go by Lirenel. Prince Caspian AU in which Edmund arrives separately from and substantially before his siblings because he wasn’t holding their hands at the train station. The Ledbury Run by Maddy Carr. Back in England, Edmund and Peter participate in a cross-country race and find in their path a downed German paratrooper.

Simon Tam (Firefly) Simon had it all. He had money, he had his dream career, he had parents who were pleased as punch to have him as their son. He gave it all up to rescue his sister from government experimentation and subsequently became a fugitive. He has some trouble adjusting, as you can imagine, from golden child to desperate man on the edges of society, but he never considers going back. Not once. Because his sister was more important to him than all the accolades he could earn.

Alec Hardison (Leverage) Hardison is a hardened criminal. Ish. He takes immense pride in his hacking ability and would be offended if I said he was one of the best in the business. Because he’s the best. But really, Hardison’s a soft touch. He was the one most easily convinced to join the Leverage team and use his crime powers for good. His first heist? Hacking into the Bank of Iceland to pay his Nana’s medical bills. He decided that the Leverage crew was his family, and promptly adopted them all. He’s the team-builder, the block they all built on. He provided the space, he provided the nurturing eye, he paid attention to what his team members wanted and gave it to them. Though he’s a criminal, he’s the moral center of the Leverage crew. Also he’s a giant nerd and completely hilarious.

The Justice League Job by Eatsscissors. Casefic about a stolen comic book. Hardison/Parker.

#i was tagged in a thing #favorite male characters #honorable mentions include #briar moss (tamora pierce)#ben wyatt (parks and rec)#and #benton fraser (due south)

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chrismaverickdotcom · 8 years ago

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The Logan Supremacy.... (no spoilers)

I’ve kind of gotten sidetracked away from doing movie reviews for a bit here. Sorry about that. I’m still not quite sure if anyone cares. People say they want my take, but it always feels like there’s far more people interested in my political stuff. Anyway, I’ve been meaning to write one for Split for a while (saw it a few weeks ago) and didn’t get to it. So now I’m not sure if anyone is interested anymore. Let me know.

That said, there’s a new superhero movie out. Logan. And of course I have to review that one. So here we go.

I’m kind of wondering if the post award season hard-R superhero movie spot is just going to become a thing with Fox. After last year’s Deadpool (which I liked a lot) and this year’s Logan, Fox seems to have something. Certainly something beyond what they did with Fant4stic and X-Men: Apocalypse, both of which pretty much royally sucked. I’m actually quite happy to say that with Logan, they actually had something going here.

I always try to avoid spoilers in these as best I can. Here it’s going to be quite easy because my thoughts on what made Logan work really don’t have much to do with the movie at all. It’s more about what they DIDN’T do that really works for me.

I’m actually kind of starting to hate movie franchises. It’s not just that they’re cash grabs. All movies are cash grabs. All products are cash grabs. That’s just how it works. Everyone wants to make money. And I understand that you need big tentpole films in order to make Hollywood work. And that’s the honest truth of it. For anyone who likes to say that they don’t care about these big budget extravaganzas, you need to understand that they keep Hollywood running. Without big budget superhero films, there is no La La Land or Moonlight. It’s a sharing of the wealth. That’s just the business. And movie franchises have always been a big part of that. I mean literally always. Go all the way back to the Golden Age of Hollywood. We have Casablanca, Citizen Kane and Singing in the Rain because your great grandparents sat through a shit ton of really godawful Johnny Weissmuller Tarzan movies and that’s not to mention Ma and Pa Kettle or Andy Hardy. Because no matter what you like to remember about the Golden Age of cinema… no matter what La La Land and Hollywood want you to believe… most of it was basically a big shit show. Just like now. In fact, in those days — Code Era Hollywood — it was even worse.

But one of the things that the franchises understood back in those days was that they weren’t TV (or maybe more accurately they weren’t radio). The Tarzan films are not high art, but they all stand alone. They are related, but only nebulously. The order of them doesn’t even really make all that much difference. So long as you saw the first one and know the origin story, you’re good to go with any of the. Frankly, if you missed the first one, you’ll basically figure shit out. White dude with the accent of a caveman, swings from vines and yells a lot. Hell, if for some reason you want to make a Tarzan movie without Johnny Weissmüller, just throw in Buster Crabbe. Who the fuck will know the difference?

And this is how franchises have always worked. After the days of movie serials (which were weekly, like TV shows), Hollywood learned that you couldn’t expect everyone to see every film in the franchise and certainly not to wait a year or two for the next installment of a story. This has been the way of franchises for movie history. Even serialized films like Star Wars didn’t require all the parts to tell the story. That’s why they were able to start with EPISODE FUCKING FOUR and most people never even noticed. James Bond is theoretically one ongoing franchise, but it doesn’t make sense in the slightest. Actors change. Events contradict each other. There’s a soft reboot for the most recent Daniel Craig films which takes them back into being prequels to most of the other ones (or a replacement in the case of the Casino Royales) but even those don’t make sense, because they retain the M (Judi Dench) that was hired in the final Pierce Bronson pictures. But it all just kind of works. Because there’s just an understanding by the viewer that continuity in the Bond Universe only matters when it does. The individual films are consistent in themselves and that is is enough. You can watch any Bond film and its fine. The others may or may not have canon that happened. It doesn’t matter. No one cares. If you’re doing a Bond marathon and you happen o hate Octopussy. Just skip it. I doesn’t matter. The same is true of Tarzan, Andy Hardy or (to a lesser extent) even Star Wars.

But somewhere along the way, this broke. Maybe it was Empire Strikes Back that broke it. Even though i remains the best Star Wars movie, it really doesn’t have a beginning or an end. It’s all middle. But it was certainly broken by he time we got to Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. Hollywood figured out that they could make us pay to see episodic TV in theaters. And frankly it kind of sucks.

Not all franchises are like that. The success of the Marvel films is that even though they’re sort of episodic, they don’t really rely on each other much. At least not really Avengers: Age of Ultron kind of did, and it’s one of the things that I really don’t like about that movie. It’s one of the big problems with Batman v. Superman. That’s not really even a movie. It’s a lot of set up for other movies that hasn’t been earned yet. What makes the Marvel films work is that when I walk out of the theater, I (usually) feel like I’ve seen a complete and conclusive story — even if it is a story that is part of a larger one. What makes a franchise not work is when each installment is more concerned with locking the viewer in for the next installment OR PREVIOUS ONES than it is with telling it’s own story.

What made Logan work is that it just didn’t give a fuck.

And it was great because of it. Like Deadpool, this is a movie that exists within the X-men universe. But only in the most superficial of ways. It matters in the same way that it matters that any Bond films related or any Tarzan films. Instead of trying to tell an X-men franchise story, James Mangold directed a simple and compelling action movie that happens to be set in the X-men world. In effect it isn’t really an X-men movie at all. It’s a Jason Bourne movie. It’s a John Wick movie. It’s Léon, The Professional, where the part of Léon will now be played by Wolverine.

And it was fucking awesome.

Ot at least it was awesome for what it was. If you like Jason Bourne style action movies, you should love this. It is the story of a reluctant hero, put into a situation which he didn’t choose, where his only way out is to kill a lot of people. REALLY a lot of people. And kill them… like a bunch. Like so much killing. Like if you’re into a movie where dead fuckers are stacking up left and right. This is the movie for you. If you don’t want to see that, you will not enjoy this. Because there is so so so so so so very much killing going on.

And I’m trying to review this for what it is. This is a franchise movie. It is not high art (which The Professional inexplicably is). It doesn’t want to be. It is trying to be the best franchise movie it can be and the best killing spree movie it can be. I am judging it on that merit. The action was fun. The killing was gory. It gives movies like Bourne and Wick a serious run for their money. At the same time, there is enough of a compelling story to gesture towards something like The Professional to make it something more than a mindless action spree. It has heart and soul in a way that most movies in this genre really don’t. There are real stakes for the character and between the killing… oh so very much killing… the film gives you a reason to care for the characters and want them to succeed. I mean, a reason beyond wanting to see them survive to kill some more.

But it didn’t rely too heavily on it’s franchiseness. What you need to know about the other X-men/Wolverine movies. Logan is a guy with claws and a healing factor. Professor Xavier is a guy with mental powers. They’re mutants. Nothing else matters. These things aren’t explained. Much like it’s never explained why Tarzan is in the jungle or talks funny after the first movie. Why does John Wick have a gun? Cuz he’s a dude with a gun. That’s who he is. Let’s move along.

Beyond that, the other movies don’t matter. Frankly, a lot of the events of the other movies are kind of contradicted by this one. And that’s fine. It just doesn’t matter. Like Bond, continuity only matters in this film when it does. And when it doesn’t, Mangold just doesn’t give a fuck. In fact, probably my least favorite part of the film are the time (relatively few times) that Mangold tries to address the ongoing X-men continuity just to keep the geeks off his back. It’s done with a bit of a wink. He lets you know that the film doesn’t really “fit” and he doesn’t care. The Wolverine character pretty much tells you that directly. It’s too much. I don’t need it and it took me out of the movie. It’s a double edged sword I guess. If he didn’t do it, there’d be a bunch of assholes on Twitter saying “but this doesn’t work, because the events of X-men: The Last Stand say this other thing. Mangold is explicitly saying “I know. I don’t care. That movie fucking sucked and this one is better. Deal with it!” And he’s right. He did make a better movie. But it would be even better still if he didn’t have to say that in the film itself. Bond films never apologize for being Bond films.

The particulars of the film are pretty good. Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart are excellent in their characters… and they should be since they’ve had 17 years of practice. Dafne Keen is also very good in the role of Laura. She’s not going to be getting Natalie Portman/Mathilda style accolades… but she was good and I hope she has a future in it. Seeing her fight as an 11 year old girl was cool, though there were some points where it was kind of obvious that she was stunt doubled or CGI’d out in a way that it isn’t as much so with Jackman and that makes her seem a little more artificial in an otherwise very gritty film. The rest of the cast is basically “okay.” I don’t feel like there is anyone else I can really rave about, but no one is offensively bad (and that’s a positive in a movie like this).

So I recommend seeing it. Especially if you’re a fan of Bourne style movies. It is an excellent entry into that genre (generally not one of my favorites) and, assuming this really is Jackman’s final time in the role as he has said, a great send off to his version of the Wolverine character. Just don’t look for much else out of the film than that. Instead, appreciate it for all he things that it doesn’t do.

And it is the best there is at what it doesn’t do… well… maybe not the best… but pretty damn good.

★★★★☆ (4 out of five stars)

Logan ‘Sunseeker’ Promo: Wolverine Drives a Limo Now

The new ‘Logan’ trailer shows off female Wolverine with Hugh Jackman

Logan review: Hugh Jackman’s last turn as Wolverine is the real, shotgun-toting, limb-lopping deal

‘Logan’ Won’t Have a Post-Credits Scene After All, But May Still Have Something Extra

Every ‘X-Men’ movie ranked worst to best

LOGAN Review: Farewell, My Lovely

Logan Continues to Mutate into Johnny Cash Music Video With Possible B&W Version

Logan Photos: Hugh Jackman Says Goodbye to Wolverine

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The Logan Supremacy…. (no spoilers) was originally published on ChrisMaverick dotcom

#franchises #Hugh Jackman #James Mangold #laura #Logan #movie review #Patrick Stewart #Professor X #X-23 #X-Men (film)#X-Men Origins: Wolverine #X-Men: Apocalypse #Xmen

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letitproducejoy-blog · 6 years ago

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Fakers gonna fake fake fake fake fake...

(First, you're welcome for the earworm!) I wrapped up my most recent graduate class a few weeks ago with a few pieces under my belt, hopeful chapters to what will eventually become my "thesis," an actual memoir that I want to publish if not while in school, then definitely soon after. I was happy to have taken my first class in my specialization, not just because I'm pretty damn good at it ("How can you bang out a six-page paper in half a day? Without editing?!"), but because I finally found the path I'd like to go down, the part of my life I'd like to write about. I can't help but feel like a fraud, though. Like I don't know enough about my own life, have enough ownership over my experiences and my reckonings, to write about them with any kind of authority. I've been listening to Down at the Crossroads recently, whittling my one-way, hour-plus commute away with intriguing interviews from various Pagan and witchy authors, and I can't help but think... How are they so confident with what they write about? First, go check out that podcast. It's seriously fun, and I've been introduced to so many new authors and music (they play new music every episode!) and ways of seeing witchcraft from just the five or so episodes I've had the time to binge on. Along with that thought is an accompanied feeling of... dis-ease, I suppose. This part is difficult to put to words, the uncomfortable undercurrent I get when I listen to these authors talk about their books. It's not that I dislike the topics; in fact, I recently bought Jason Miller's Elements of Spellcrafting because I finally found a magickal practitioner who viewed spellwork as I do. And even if I didn't quite connect with the topic -- Deborah Castellano's interview on her book Glamour Magic comes to mind, though I have to admit, I've thought of her work more often since getting a bright red lipstick and actually liking it -- I enjoyed hearing about it and learning a new perspective. These people were subject matter experts in their particular magickal practice, and eloquent, intelligent, and aware of themselves, to boot. It occurred to me a few days later what that undercurrent was: I feel like a fraud for writing a memoir on witchcraft. Or anything, really, but what makes me a subject matter expert in witchcraft. Even if it's my journey, my experiences, my practice that I'm sharing, I feel they're not good enough to share with even my closest friends (witchy or not), much less an audience and certainly not in such a permanent fixture as the written word. Impostor syndrome is a bitch, y'all. I get that writers suffer from it, so in that regard, I'm by no means special or unique. But oh my god, just imagining -- and pardon me for a second while my shit brain runs wild with *probably-not-going-to-happen-but-anxiety-is-an-asshole-like-that* scenarios for a second -- DatC calling me and asking me all these questions like these other authors makes me shake in my fuckin' pointy hat. I'm also equally terrified of being the center of attention from a widely read book and the book totally bombing, two polar opposites that literally can't happen in conjunction unless that attention is all negative (which feeds back into the previous fear... you know that's exactly what's going to happen if you publish it, right? Nobody likes you, everybody hates you, guess you'll eat... the pages of your book you STARVING ARTIST). Kinda tied to impostor syndrome, but a fear of its own volition, too. Which is fucking great when you want to be a writer. Like, I want to be published and read and shared around the magickal community, but I don't want to be paraded in front of other people or depended on to shape someone else's craft. That's a fuck-ton of responsibility. A friend of mine put it best: I don't like the idea that I'll be paraded in front of people for that same knowledge. I hate pedestals. I hate receiving that type of attention for something that I'm good at or have specific knowledge of. I don't need to be celebrated like that. It makes me extremely uncomfortable to be put on display like that. That is, in a nutshell, exactly how I feel about being the "center of attention." Think about it, though... in order to have any chance at a successful book, you need to market and promote not only the book, but yourself. You have to pretend you're someone on the outside looking at you and your work, and going, "Hey, I just read this awesome thing by this pretty cool chick; we should add it to our reading list at the book club!" Basically, you're peddling not just your written work, but who you are, what makes up you. Sometimes, I'm worried I'm not good enough to market like that. Am I really worth that kind of effort, those accolades? Worth even giving a chance? Before writing this, I Googled "impostor syndrome when writing a book" (as I'm wont to do) and came across this post from Neil Gaiman. Yes, that Neil Gaiman. I've always been impressed by his ability to weave mythology into compelling tales appropriate for this century, and I instantly became a fan after reading American Gods. (Who didn't, though.) Anyway, I was surprised to come across this post, in which he answers a question from a reader about impostor syndrome and asking about his experience with it. You can read the post in full here, but in pertinent part: Some years ago, I was lucky enough invited to a gathering of great and good people: artists and scientists, writers and discoverers of things. And I felt that at any moment they would realise that I didn’t qualify to be there, among these people who had really done things.On my second or third night there, I was standing at the back of the hall, while a musical entertainment happened, and I started talking to a very nice, polite, elderly gentleman about several things, including our shared first name. And then he pointed to the hall of people, and said words to the effect of, “I just look at all these people, and I think, what the heck am I doing here? They’ve made amazing things. I just went where I was sent.” And I said, “Yes. But you were the first man on the moon. I think that counts for something.” And I felt a bit better. Because if Neil Armstrong felt like an imposter, maybe everyone did. Maybe there weren’t any grown-ups, only people who had worked hard and also got lucky and were slightly out of their depth, all of us doing the best job we could, which is all we can really hope for. And he's right. What more could we really ask for but just the chance? To do our best and to be recognized for that hard work and effort, no matter what came with it? So, with that, I'm still going to give it the ol' college try (ha, funny, since I'm in grad school... *faint "boos" in the distance*) and work on this memoir. I need to suck it up, write this damn thing, get it edited, and work on publication. It's not a guarantee that DatC or anywhere else will ever reach out after it hits bookshelves or Amazon, and it's not a guarantee that anyone will even buy the damn thing or think it's worth its while... ... but I have to try. Because who knows, I just might get lucky. http://dlvr.it/QYj1qL

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babalicious · 8 years ago

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POWERFUL ESSAY On Music/Creativity, Depression / Generational Shifts, etc. - Bravo Rich Larson! - so much resonates for this 52 year old, still struggling...***

“Chris Cornell died early Thursday morning. His band Soundgarden played a show on Wednesday night at the Fox Theater in Detroit. Two hours after the show ended, he was gone.

For two days, I’ve been working on a piece to pay tribute to him, and it’s been a struggle. Usually when I have a problem like this it’s because I’m staring at a blank screen trying to figure out what I want to say. That’s not the problem this time. The problem is I have way too much to say.

I’m not going to sit here and claim to have been a huge fan of Soundgarden. I didn’t dislike them, I just had to take them in small doses. I was a fan of Cornell. I love “Seasons,” the solo song he had on Cameron Crowe’s movie, Singles. It’s a droning acoustic song about isolation and the meaningless passing of time. Your basic nihilistic statement written at what was probably the peak of rock’s most nihilistic period.

I was a fan of Cornell as a person. Of all the great musicians that were packed into Seattle in the late 80’s and early 90’s, from Mark Arm of Mudhoney to Jeff Ament of Mother Love Bone and Pearl Jam to the Great Tortured Genius himself, Kurt Cobain, Cornell seemed like he rose a little bit above the others. He was the unofficial communicator of the Seattle scene. Like a Pacific Northwest Sinatra, he had a charisma and a calm grace about him. He was thoughtful, even charming, in interviews, unlike his compatriots who disdained fame and accolades (or at least pretended to). Cornell was the guy who seemed most like he could handle all the attention without turning it into an existential crisis.

Now he’s dead because, as it turns out, he had been dealing with an existential crisis most of his life. I was a fan, and I had a ton of respect for him. But it’s taken me a little while to understand why his death has affected me as strongly as it has.

At first I thought it might have something to do with the fact that I was mostly a bystander while the music of my generation was taking over. Just as Nirvana and Pearl Jam were making that gigantic breakthrough in 1992, my fiancé and I discovered we were pregnant. So instead of investigating mosh pits at the 7th Street Entry, or watching Soundgarden and Pearl Jam rule the stage at Lollapalooza (it was a traveling festival in those days), I was hastily throwing together a wedding and then changing diapers. My wife and I got an early jump on things, so we’ve always told ourselves that we’d make up for lost time in our forties and fifties.

Well here we are, and something like this just makes it feel like we’ve arrived too late. But while that’s a legitimate thing, I don’t really think that’s exactly what is bothering me.

Then I thought maybe it’s a generational thing. Grunge is the gift that Generation X gave to the world of music. We took all that slacker cynicism, mixed it up with our older siblings’ sneering punk attitude, Zeppelin’s low end and, if we’re being honest, a little heroin. The result was the musical version of Beckett’s Waiting for Godot. It was gorgeous art that was absolutely sure that nothing really matters, making it feel immediate and important. It was the sound of a generation telling everybody, including ourselves, to fuck off.

And while we were wallowing in our splendid alienation, our spokespeople, predictably, started dying. First it was Andrew Wood of Mother Love Bone. A lot of us didn’t know about him until Cornell, along with Wood’s erstwhile bandmates (who were about to form Pearl Jam) memorialized him with a one off tribute called Temple of the Dog. Somehow, Wood’s story made death part our music’s romantic foundation.

A couple years later, Cobain killed himself with a shotgun. He was 27. Our Bob Dylan, the voice of our generation, threw it all away because he was afraid he was becoming a cliché. At least, that’s what we told ourselves at the time.

Shortly thereafter, Kristen Pfaff of Hole overdosed and died in a bathtub. And then Shannon Hoon of Blind Melon overdosed and died on a tour bus. It felt like people like D’arcy Wretzky of Smashing Pumpkins, Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots, and, perhaps especially, Courtney Love – Pfaff’s bandmate and Cobain’s widow – were all headed in the same direction.

Alice in Chains’ Layne Staley died of a gruesome overdose. The fact that his body was not discovered for more than a week felt somehow fitting. He was a emblematic of a generation that just wanted to be left alone.

And just when it felt like our music, and maybe our entire generation, would never live to see 30, things turned around. Love and Weiland cleaned their acts up (at least for a while). Bands like Pearl Jam thrived long after the term “Heroin Chic” disappeared. Before we knew it, we were a decade into a new century and a lot of the Poets of Grunge were still standing. Some of them were even in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It felt like our heroes were out of the woods.

When Weiland died of an overdose of cocaine, alcohol and MDA at the end of 2015, it felt like an echo, and not something rooted in the present. He had become the most notorious addict of them all over the years; in and out of rehab so many times we had all lost hope for him. His death was something that had been predicted so often for so long that it might as well have happened in 1997.

But Chris Cornell died of suicide on May 17, 2017, at the age of 52. He was a dad. He was a philanthropist. He was becoming an elder statesman of rock. He was a grown up. Cornell was aging gracefully, even doing that thing where some guys get better looking as they get older. He got Soundgarden back together, and they made a great new album a couple years ago. His voice still had all the power and strength it had displayed in his youth. Much like the rest of us, the world had kicked his ass a couple times, and he survived.

But now he’s gone, and goddammit, his is the death that bothers me the most. As I’ve been thinking about this, I’m realizing that it’s both a personal and a generational thing. Cornell had a long struggle with depression. As have I. As have many of you.

It’s possible that, along with grunge, Generation X’s other great gift to society is depression. I mean, of course it was here long before the Baby Boomers started re-producing, but we talk about it more than those who came before us. We talk about it as a demon or a monster. It’s a dark shadow that shows itself at any point in time without warning. It surrounds us, isolates us, and quiets us. Depression likes to blame things. We feel like shit because of mistakes we have made in life or because of the state of the world or because we aren’t perfect. Without a lot of help and a lot of work, it’s impossible to know that it really is a chemical imbalance in our brains. After twenty-plus years of trying to de-stigmatize depression, some of us still have a hard time recognizing it for what it is. And even then, it doesn’t always matter.

You might think grunge is about anger, but that’s not completely true. Yes, it can sound that way, but it’s really about depression and cynicism. Those two go hand-in-hand, along with their nasty little sister, anxiety. When the three of them get going, they just eat hope as quickly as it can be summoned. That leaves despair and despair is exhausting, not just for those who experience it, but for the people around it as well. So we keep it to ourselves because we don’t want to be a burden. And then it gets to be too much.

Doesn’t matter if you’re a student, a mom, an accountant or a rock star. It doesn’t matter if you’ve written about it your entire life as a means of keeping it at bay. It doesn’t matter if the music you made about it brought in fame, respect and millions of dollars. It doesn’t matter if your entire generation has suffered from it. Depression makes you feel totally alone. You hit the breaking point, and then, like Chris Cornell, you die alone in the bathroom.

This was a well-respected member of his community; a beloved musical hero who seemed to have it all together. This could have been any of us. And brothers and sisters, if it’s you, don’t mess around with it. Please find some help.

Cornell is speaking to us all one last time. This isn’t something we left behind with our twenties. This isn’t something cured by age or financial security. This isn’t something you “outgrow.” If it’s allowed to fester, depression is stronger than wisdom. Depression is insidious and tenacious.

Depression can get to anybody. It can make you feel like an old man at 27. It can make you feel lost as a child at 52.

Call it a senseless tragedy. Call it a second-act cautionary tale. Call it whatever you want. Just don’t blow it off as meaningless.

Rest in peace, Chris.” ************************

Rich Larson is a freelance writer & budding publishing entrepreneur. If you like what you’ve read here, please CONSIDER THIS. He can be reached at [email protected]

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