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imaginethebeautifulworld · 4 years ago

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prussia x reader: silly squabbles

Hello, lovelies~ I was plagued by images of this dumbass and his general ridiculousness, so of course I had to write it all out. This fic is pointless, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

"You are really annoying."

"And yet, somehow, I'm not detecting any real annoyance. Wonder why?"

His words hung lightly in the air, gentle and playful, just shy of taunting.

You did your best to ignore them, trying to focus on your book. But his fingers were moving again, trailing over your back in an inconsistent pattern, heavy enough a presence to register, yet just light enough to torment.

You were sure, in some long-winded, ridiculous, roundabout way, he would blame you for this predicament- for not reading as fast as him, for not paying him enough attention during a lazy day in.

Regardless, you tried to focus on the passage at hand, rereading the same paragraph for the tenth time now as he teased a particularly sensitive spot near your ribs.

He wasn't quite tickling you- not yet- but the shifting tempo and pressure all played upon the obvious threat.

Only mildly irritated- really, you were too familiar with his shenanigans by now to ever be truly annoyed- your focus landed on the bookcase, the only immediate target for your long-suffering gaze. "Do you mind?"

There was a hint of pride in his voice as he answered, a cockiness at successfully distracting you. "Nope!"

His fingers- now having tasked themselves with massaging more than teasing- paused between your shoulder blades. "Why? Do you?"

Rather than allow him another victory, you huffed quietly, pointedly making an effort to lose yourself once more in your book. "No... Not at all."

If he was amused by your answer practically being ground between your teeth, he made no indication of it. Instead, he resumed his massage, keeping his palm mostly flat against your spine, adopting a steady rhythm that lulled you into some semblance of security.

You allowed yourself to relax, turning your attention fully to your tale, praying he would at least let you finish this chapter in relative peace.

It was a hope to be short-lived alas, his posture shifting, bringing him near enough to read over your shoulder.

You were far too invested to truly pay him any mind, but then he was hovering near your temple, fingers drifting ever closer to your neck, once more dancing in that maddeningly light way which he employed solely in effort to agitate you.

You knew what he was doing, and you'd be damned if you'd let him win; summoning every ounce of self-restraint within you, you purposely, blatantly, chose to ignore him.

It took only a few moments for him to acknowledge your determination towards defiance (a few torturous moments where he had started tracing his nails against your hairline and whispered some of the passage aloud), his huff of displeasure bring you a small taste of sweet, sweet victory.

You would have been naive to think he had given up, knew it would be foolish to assume, to dare to presume, that he didn't already have other strategies in mind.

What you couldn't guess, regretfully, was exactly which plan he would attempt next.

When he sat upright once more, leaving you to lounge peacefully on your stomach, you unwisely surmised that he was actually finished with the whole affair, that he'd grown bored, that he would actually leave you to your novel in peace.

Feeling him shift back to the head of the bed, hearing him tapping away at his phone- these factors allied with his distance away from you all allayed your worries, letting you escape once more to the realm belonging to the pages before you.

The temporary tranquility was somehow less than simply fleeting; it had scarcely existed at all.

Not even five minutes had passed, and you felt teasing fingers once more, now grazing ever-so-softly against the bare skin of your ankle.

A jolt of panic fueled your reflexive movement away from him, your legs kicking, book falling to the floor in your surprise.

You shot upright and fixed him with a glare, hoping to convey just how furious you were with him. "I swear to God-!"

The villainous grin on his face revealed vanity in its purest form, and it did nothing to reduce your resentment.

Scowling now, and forcing yourself into an upright position, you narrowed your eyes at him. "What do you want, asshole?"

He was quiet for a moment, by all appearances still savoring his triumph. But then his smile shifted, the self-satisfied smirk falling slowly into something softer, fonder.

It took you by surprise, sent a stutter through your pulse, all irritation rapidly transitioning into confusion. "What?"

He shifted forward, leg bending beneath him as he drew closer.

Suspicious, but not too concerned, you offered an unimpressed expression, relaying your distrust. "Gil?"

There was a flicker to his smile, but it was soon replaced by something far more serious, his eyes languidly studying your features.

Briefly, more a passing fancy, you considered teasing him for his sudden quiet, yet there was something too tremulous tormenting him, and you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, instead offering your concern. “Teuton?”

Whatever spell that had held him within its grasp was finally dismissed, his head cocking to the side and a considering tone coating his next words. “You love me, right?”

It sounded innocent enough, and his behavior certainly suggested no ill-intent. But you knew him, and knew all-too-well not to fully believe in it. “Is that a trick question?”

You made sure to keep your words only just on the side of playful, but tempered with enough sincerity to assuage any possible self-doubts that may be afflicting him.

It was clearly the right approach, the left corner of his mouth only just hinting at a smile, a familiar spark almost tangible in the air. “It’s a simple question, Liebling. No need to sound so suspicious!”

You felt your eyes narrow as you studied him, his wording only heightening your wariness. “You know- The fact you feel you have to say so really isn’t winning you any points here.”

His grin was back at that, disorienting in its intensity, just enough that you nearly forgot his previous grimness. “I’m just asking if you love me, mein Schatz. ‘Snot like I’m asking you to sell me your immortal soul or something.”

You neglected to point out how those two things were near one and the same, instead choosing to offer a faux sincerity. “Oh no, you’re right. I hate you so much,” you quipped, each syllable oversaturated in sarcasm.

He scoffed, melodramatically pressing a hand to his chest. “I’m wounded.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning down just long enough to rescue your book from the floor, marking your page and setting beside you on the comforter. “I’m sure your pride will be just fine."

“I dunno…” His words trailed off, and you could make out the distinct, irritating sound of him sucking on his teeth. “I think it may be mortal this time.”

You decided to play along, content to lose yourself in the absurdity. “Oh no,” came your reply, emotionless a tone as you could muster, in spite of the smile playing on your lips. “How could I possibly live with myself?”

He hummed, running a finger over his chin as if he were seriously considering it. “You’d probably take my fortune, settle somewhere warm.”

You fought a laugh, unsuccessfully. “Mm, definitely. Have sordid affairs with all the cabana boys and the waitresses.”

“Sing drunken renditions of Mamma Mia during karaoke night.”

“And I’ll adopt some ugly, exotic pet that I insist travels with me everywhere.”

“Only after your third husband disappears after mysterious circumstances, of course.”

He was only half-serious, and you couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow in mock offense. “Only three?”

Your question made him snicker, his eyes shining in amusement, but he didn’t continue the exchange.

Several moments passed, and with them the lingering ridiculousness of the “argument” faded away. There were many of these odd backs-and-forths, all somehow sillier than the last. The quiet was just as pleasant though, and you embraced the comfort it carried.

That was, until, he was biting his lip in thought, his amusement long abandoned.

Concerned, you shifted closer, studying his features carefully. "Gil?"

His eyes were glued to some distant place you couldn’t see, miles and centuries away from the here and now. “You do love me, right?”

“Of course,” you replied almost reflexively, still taken aback by the sudden shift back to solemnity.

“Really?” His eyes turned to yours once more, unguarded, open, a haunting fragility shining in them that made your heart clench inside your chest.

Wherever this insecurity came from, you wished you could rid him of it, tear all traces of it from his psyche, make it so he would never question his self-worth ever again.

As it was, you did what you could, lifting his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to his ring, meeting his gaze as you lingered against the silver. “Would you be wearing this if I didn’t?”

There was a smile, the one you fell in love with: fond, slightly shy, just a little cocky. “Good point.”

You couldn’t help but feel as if something was still off about him however, something bothering him that you couldn’t even hope to guess. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

He took to studying your features again, his free hand rising to trace his fingers softly against your cheek. His eyes were warm and gentle, posture completely at ease. His words however-

“Sometimes I can’t believe this is real, or how lucky I am; some days I swear you’re just a figment of my imagination.”

His words carried an almost unbearable amount of loneliness, layered among disbelief and adoration. They triggered several different emotions within you, stirring them into a frenzied muss of affection and sadness, leaving you breathless.

Several potential reactions came to mind, but were all dismissed as you weighed his words, compared them to the relaxation of his shoulders, the familiarity as he languidly brushed his fingertips behind your ear, lightly teasing your scalp.

You could easily surrender to it, could already feel your own posture relaxing with each steady shift of his fingers. Still, you weren’t quite ready to abandon your prior playfulness, offering a haughty hum to prelude your reply.

“Unfortunately for you, I’m very real.” You felt a passing smirk flicker to life for a moment, blazing brightly before it was gone again, sober sincerity settling once more in its place. “You’re stuck with me, Beilschmidt. Forever…” you finished in an elongated stage whisper.

He breathed a laugh, the slightest hiss, his grin irrepressible now. His tone, however, mimicked nonchalance. “Eh. There are worse things, I guess.”

The tease was impossible to ignore, especially as that all-too-familiar deviousness was taunting in its own right.

You tried to keep your words accusatory, but they came out entirely too fond. “You’re a dick.”

He smirked, offering a half-hearted shrug.

“Guilty,” he sang, almost entirely too proud.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he was cradling both of your cheeks, and before you could guess at his next move, he was shifting forward, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But I’m a dick who loves you very much.”

Thanks for reading!

#prussia x reader #readerfic #gilbert beilschmidt x reader #hello lovelies!#i'll add more tags later ugh #aph prussia #hws prussia #i hope y'all are well!#i've missed writing #i'm hoping i can get back to this one ancient artie request i received aeons ago #thanks for reading!#aph prussia x reader #hetalia prussia #hetalia prussia x reader #hws prussia x reader #gilbert beilschmidt

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neuvillette · 3 years ago

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Paperwork - FrUK Fic (18+ish)

During the industrial boom in England, someone in particular has been working himself to the bone.

Fuck... There it was again, that near-painful pang in his ribs from thinking about that bastard. That arrogant prick had whispered to him so closely that day so long ago that the memory of the hot breath from his lips still seemed to be lingering on his ears-- or was that just his own fiery blush? Either way, it wasn't going anywhere. Whenever he was alone his thoughts would instantly crack back to that insufferable shit. How his lips were so plush and too naturally red to be decent... How those blue eyes drifted lazily along wherever they pleased, often up and down his body. How he hoped that they one day would look back at him so pleadingly, begging for something almost too shameful to fulfill. He knew approximately how the man looked under his clothes, since he was prone to low cut shirts, high hems, translucent fabric. He had a tight waist and broad shoulders, he had hips that almost could be considered too wide, ones that would probably be good to hold onto tightly and grip red marks into. His chest, like much of his body, was soft, not flabby exactly, but plush enough to squeeze and nibble at. Fuck, FUCK, that pang came again, searing through his chest as he battled to think of something else. He had work to get done, and a lot of it. These kinds of thoughts were not only immoral but incredibly inconvenient, and the toll they took on his body meant he had to go through an arduous process to relieve himself, if only for a little while. His teeth all pressed down together as his jaw clenched, he could feel the pressure all throughout his face as he tried to just get on with it. There wasn't that much paperwork left, right? Just a bit more. A small distraction would do him some good. He only realised he was tapping his mostly-dry dip pen against his desk when he noticed how the rhythm was starting to seep elsewhere into his mind; tap tap tap, thrusts against a document, against something soft, warm, moans echoing in arches over the staccato beat, and--- He dropped the pen unceremoniously onto his desk, caked-on ink splattering down as he pressed his forehead into his hand. He had been slipping too hard recently. His bosses hadn’t been pleased with his work as of late; though he had been toiling during similar hours and put in the same effort he always had, they said he needed to rise up to meet changing standards. He used to do work with his hands, but that wasn’t needed anymore. He used to be their guard dog, or at least their work horse. For everything it was, at least the action of his youth was invigorating. At least he wasn’t monitored, and had time to do things for himself, instead of being their tool all hours of the day. He had time to work with his hands, his hands. To create things that were valuable, that were helpful to the, to his, people around him. Now he was… well. He was expendable. But not so expendable that they would waste his capacity to do paperwork. Industry was booming, one couldn’t just expect to stand by with what had been accepted in the past. Labour was becoming more standardised, more efficient, more impersonal… Not that he had ever been the most personable chap. While he enjoyed working with his hands, making things one by one, the gritty way, the difficult way, he made efforts to internalise what they had said to him. They needed his mind, his edge, to work on this stuff. That’s what he was for, after all; not forging swords, not stringing bows, not tilling soil or growing things; but intellectual, gentlemanly, removed work. Detached, necessary, proper. It suited him, he tried to tell himself. He wasn’t one easily inclined to the personable, nor to saccharine slop… Not when communicating with others, anyhow. Buried and smeared while being hidden amongst mounds of paperwork were brief scribbles of poetry, of sketches of mistily reimagined silhouettes, flowing romantic prose incapable of coming out through his own halting speech, of faintly grasped memories of torrid expressions he needed to recall through flowing strokes of a figure, but those all were secrets even he wasn’t meant to have access to. Shameful, that’s what it was. Inefficient, ineffective, and shameful. An outlet for his needs to make something, perhaps, but… Certainly they sated other desires as well.

The distance between them should have helped; should have given him time to correct and corral his feelings, mold them back into form briskly, scaldingly, sharply--as one does when shaping copper. Instead he had gone too soft, too half-hearted, and his self-inflicted blows to his psyche had been too gentle. The metal of his desire had set and crisped up before he could steer himself back on track, and now he had to re-anneal, to subject himself back to fiery disavowal and guilt before the exacting measures of self-restraint would be effective. Yes, he quite liked that idea. He couldn’t have his metallurgy back but he could certainly think of his rehabilitation as such. He had forged many a sword, an arrow tip, an axe, before. His personality would be the same. Scalded and quenched and hammered into shape. And with his skill he could tap incessantly, exactingly, forcefully thrusting against the teasingly giving metal and-- blast it, again! It was achingly difficult to ignore. The distance only seemed to make his delinquent misgivings have more courage to rise up again out of turn. When he was face to face with those capricious blue eyes long enough to remember the wretched personality that tagged along with them it was easier to keep his goal in mind, but the longer he went without a glimpse of the sour man himself, the more alluring the rest of it seemed. Had they even written letters? Well, he hadn’t sent any. He had received a fair handful until they had run dry. He had almost convinced himself that he was glad of it. A few lines in the others flowery script were too laden with implications to be safe; he had already resigned himself to the idea of his correspondence being read at his supervisor’s discretion, so it was best if the letters wasted away entirely rather than risk the uncovery by his betters of whatever hintingly depraved thing would find itself penned inside a perfumed envelope. Near the end of their dispatchment, the notes had gotten quite irritated it seemed, demanding reply. His excuse for his silence was that he simply didn’t have time to dally on such things, but in truth he wanted to show himself that he could deny the temptation. It was easy to tell himself that he had enough to worry about with dozens of signatures to scrawl, appeals and drafts to write, documents and proposals to uncritically approve. With considerable effort, he plucked the intricately carved ivory dip pen off of the desk before blotting it back into his blue-glass inkwell. Just a few more of these documents and he’d be able to wallow in his own home instead of his suffocating office. The half-hearted, half-present signatures left a streaky trail of black as his newly inkstained hand trailed across the page, though the final few letters were jaggedly interrupted with a rapping at the office door.

“Yes, sir, I’ve already said I would finish them by today,” his calling tone was harsh but clearly deferent; he was a lively one, but part of being a man was knowing his duty and thusly his place. Even so, he didn’t bother glancing up from his efforts to correct the broken signing at the tail end of the page as the door slowly opened, creaking unceremoniously.

“If it’s really necessary I can work past my contractual hour, though I must note that your well-intentioned checkings-in aren’t conducive to getting any actual work done.” This comment was much more pointed, though not so much so as to be crossing a line. Still, the silent presence above his desk, looming, made him rethink his words for a slight moment before he got the better of himself. No need to look up as if they can dole out some sort of punishment! To you, of all people! No, you’re working together under the same sense of duty… Right? Keep your head down and show them your dedication and vigour. If they’ve got a problem they can bloody well deal with it, that’s not something that’s important enough to interrupt this work.

« Ah. Scribbling pen names has stopped you from writing back ? You are a much more petulant boy than before, their puppy-dog training is not working on you. » The two sentences were connected not in theme but in the rolling, keen tone they were carried by. The former was a lazy observation and the latter was crafted solely to rile him up. The door quietly shut behind, and there was a graceful and soundless moment afterwards. In a second of skillful self-control, he did not drop the pen but instead cooly placed its nib back into its proper receptacle, as much as he was inclined to throw it at his guest. For a flitting pause, a scorching rage surged through him. What about no reply hadn’t gotten through that dense skull, and what made him think, after it all, that he could flicker back in, no doubt impermanently, just to ruin all his progress, and--

God he needed to see him.

He would not ever, never, let him know that.

“As spineless and will-less as ever, then, Bonnefoy. Resolute enough to travel across the channel to be a nuisance but not enough to do any work or get any admirable aims in life.” Fuck, that hadn’t enough venom, it was transparent and flimsy. Traceable. He made sure his glower was deep enough to offset what he was certain was too-soft a rebuttal. It hadn’t done enough, though.

« So you have missed me ! Yes, you know, I do enjoy to come here and to anger you. » A quick beat passed.

« You know I had to come and-- mmm… scorn you for ungentlemanly not replying to my letters. » Well, it seemed he was being equally as transparent. He almost shivered. It was one thing to have his feelings discovered, but if they both were in agreement over what was happening, it was much more difficult to steer away from what was coming.

“Scold. You mean scold.” He added curtly, taking his pen back up as he glanced back down at his paperwork. He had been staring at his face up until then, he just realised. Blue eyes as infuriating as ever, that new obnoxious french hairstyle, the unneeded tightness in the waist and legs of the waistcoat and trousers, the volatile expression of something genuine.

“Your english still hasn’t improved.” He continued with a comment he knew would be ignored, but he needed to get it out there. Keep up the guise of nagging conversation.

« Your office is so away from the rest in here. Isolated like always. And no windows, a prison ! Poor little sad Englishman, and of course no time to write letters, not one bit. » They were talking by, not to, each other, though they were saying the same things. He had decided to sit upon the edge of the bureau, clearly an excuse to stir up some fabricated bile for their equally as convincing argument.

“I’m working upon this desk, thank you! And I’ve been working for months now. You were not invited and are not wanted; you’ve found your way in and can find your way out. Good day, Bonnefoy.” His pulse was hammering now, if only he could direct it at that copper-- beat his will into place, keep it straight and unmarred, stay determined. The Frenchman was simply smiling away with that look of acute, cutting, though well-intended observation. He was not going to leave on his own. With a return of the pen to its place, he stood, making an attempt to usher his unwelcome guest out. Francis rose as well, and as he did so the Englishman made no further attempt to get to his office door. Instead they stood together, steadfast.

« Say hello to me. It’s been so long, and I want to hear it and you want to say it. Just hello. » It was a tender plea as much as it was a command. The fool really thought he was entitled to it, but only in the way two who have known each other a long time are entitled to hear the news of someone’s workday or what dreams filled their last night’s sleep. They weren’t touching, but they could. His own face was beet red as he decided whether or not he should deny the request, angry and upset at more than the situation and himself. It was boiling over, the tapping beats in his chest and throat weren’t subsiding. He had to do something. He wished he had a bloody window so he could toss the intruder out of it, grasp him by his ruffled collar and throw him out the door, or against a wall, or over his desk, or--

“You-- I can’t believe you--” He was cut off by a look, and maybe Francis had moved forward slightly with his deep gaze, bridged the gap a little to make it easier, but maybe he hadn’t, and maybe he had grabbed at the nicely pressed wool jacket of his own accord, pulled at the stupidly styled french coif to reach for a kiss, to stumble into the wall behind them all on his own. He certainly was the one pressing them together, at least preliminarily. Bonnefoy, having planned something along these lines, was quick to fill in the needed friction after a blink.

« That’s-- hmm… one way to say hello. » The teasing tone was almost enough to make him stop entirely and snap him out of it, possibly stear himself back onto a more proper path, but Francis was smiling again and it was just too earnest as he craned his neck back in anticipation to be kissed there. They both knew this was the only hello he’d be able to manage. Any further acknowledgement of a budding warmth between them beyond the physical was more than he could honestly bear. For now, the more openly flagrant refusal of the two to meet gentlemanly expectations would have to be their letters that were few and far between, punctuated by occasional tysts like this, though the sentiment always lingered, and he was afraid it was growing. He had a period in his youth, with no supervision on open seas, when he didn’t hold himself to such a high standard in these matters. It had taken a fair amount of diligence to push himself back on track, but now--... Well, he could feel himself slipping again, but this time he knew better. Somehow the refutation of his desires of it all made it all the more difficult to deny. But Francis wasn’t giving him much pause to think more deeply about these things, and the wretched glint in his eye made it seem like he knew just what was on his mind. Why did he always know!? It hurt, to be so well understood in a shame the other refused to acknowledge. When had Francis ever been shameful of anything? He pretended to be, but only to be irritating. Every so often when they’d do this, he’d resort to saying such horrible things about how he relished his sanctity being soiled when they both knew perfectly well that no such thing was ever there in the first place. Francis made no signs to do so tonight, not as impatient hands were fiddling with buttons and edging him over to sit back on top of the desk. That pansy French fashion was great for enticing the eye but by god, the buttons! Warm, manicured hands met his and Bonneyfoy grinned.

« You do not need to open my shirt. » What a stupid assumption.

“Just because I don’t-- stop that! I can do it on my own, you’re not making it any easier. I could just rip the damn thing if you prefer-- I don’t have to but. Well, I get to,” His huff was met with an expression that looked sickeningly soft. Was this not injustice enough? To acquiesce to desire, but now his carnal lusts were being interpreted as tenderness! Maybe it was a bit of that, but blast it, Francis could at least pretend he didn’t know. It wasn’t like this was something special for him, anyway. That fop was getting it on with anything that moved and looked his way, and now Francis was lording it over him that he liked him! He was probably smug, pleased that he had ordained to come down and give him the pleasure of a single, solitary fuck while he was off cavorting with--

« Please, let me. You’re tense, I can help. » There he went with that tenderness again, too visceral to be faked. The beat in time of the two sharing a glance was raw and it shut him up quite well. Francis kept chatting as he placed the Englishman’s hands under his shirt as he nimbly undid his own buttons. The other was content to grab about underneath as he waited.

« You need to learn to say no to them. Get more time away. They make you feel worse inside, and that is not very handsome at all. » And there he went with the sap. It was easy to slide his hands around to the small of Francis’s back and hold him steady as he kissed him to shut the man up. Surprisingly, Francis pushed him away to finish opening his buttons. The Englishman did not appreciate that.

« Despair is becoming on you, but even you need to be patient. I’m not going anywhere. » They both knew that wasn’t true, but he wasn’t complaining when Francis plucked his own cold hands out of the back of the Frenchman’s trousers and placed them on the man's freshly revealed chest. He could feel Francis shiver under him, his own hands were much colder than the other’s hot skin. A moment of impulse made him squeeze possibly a bit more roughly than he should have, and Francis did that little gasping moan of his he always did. It had been so long that he hardly remembered it anymore, but it was quite the experience to hear it again. The more he groped the chest, the tighter the legs around his waist would get. Oh, his poor paperwork, it was only slightly out of the way of being crushed and pushed about… Maybe he could move it before they got on with it all, it would only take a--

That familiar warm hand grabbed his jaw tightly and pulled his gaze back away from the documents on his desk, the both of them pausing only for a moment before they kissed again and all thought of paperwork was forgotten in favour of instant gratification. He could feel Francis smile triumphantly as he kept up his slightly desperate grabbing and squeezing, his hips starting to move up against the open legs resting on his desk. It was rather ungraceful, Francis’s legs snaked tight around him as he pressed their bodies together. In the one moment before he would no longer be able to resist himself, a clutching shock of guilt crackled through his chest. Unbeknownst to him, his face contorted slightly, a grimace of pain and reconsideration. Francis didn’t see, or, at least, didn’t pause. Instead, the hot, slender fingers that still held his jaw were keeping the pair kissing as a rhythm not dissimilar to one that the Englishman was familiar with was hammered out against the solid office desk. If only he could say he forgot the expectations of his bosses and the world at large for those moments, but he couldn’t. His will was stronger, however. At least, his will when combined with his desires. Besides, it was difficult to pause when his pervasive nuisance was sitting its fat arse on his desk, when they were clutched and and hugging together as tightly as his wax seals pressed to his paperwork that was currently watching the display. His hands were suddenly disordered-- after months, years even, of writing when told to, shaking hands properly, adjusting ties, now they had free reign to fly wherever they fancied. Tangled in bouncing blond locks one moment, then back squeezing his partner’s chest, then slipped down the back of the loosened trousers upon his bureau. There wasn’t much time until the nonsensical French interjections fizzled into dripping moans, and even less of a beat until a quicker, tense breath of air joined in. Chests still together, their hearts raced. He was the first to pull away and face the wall with a few curses as Francis was left sitting. Realising the fruitlessness of any attempt to clean himself there, he circled around to tend to the ever-patient papers awaiting his return as he dutifully stacked them in his carrying case.

“I should be going, then. These need finishing. Ta.” Miraculously, he found the coldness he had been attempting to muster up upon his companion’s arrival, though it was a tad too late. Francis wasn’t altogether pleased with the change in tone, although he understood the haste required after their torrid encounter.

« But I need a-- Angleterre, you-- ! » His shirt unbuttoned and tousled, and his trousers hanging off of his hips, Francis slipped to place himself in front of the door.

« You are bringing me to your flat, or your kennel, or wherever it is they keep you when you aren’t here. »

“Not if you’re going to speak French, I won’t.” A raised eyebrow came with the easy, chilled reply.

« Do not get smart with me. » Francis shot back, deft fingers working to button his shirt and press down his clothing as swiftly and naturally as bird preening itself. The other’s stern expression and eyes looking elsewhere told him as much as he needed to know. He softened, if only slightly.

« Look, I’m just as presentable as you. It’s a business trip, would that make you feel better ? I won’t bother you as you do your paperwork. I’ll even make you tea and something real to eat as you finish up. Hein ? »

Another few beats between them, and, ever the gentleman, he opened the door for Francis after giving them both a once-over.

“We’ll need to be quick, alright? These pants are already uncomf--... Go.” He gestured briskly out the door, and followed after the other man who seemed far more pleased with himself and the situation. What was he doing? Why was he-- well, that didn’t matter. All he had to worry about was getting back to his own room and not being seen by anyone in so disheveled a state… Besides, Francis seemed to be making no effort to be inconspicuous-- loudly asking for directions to his living arrangements because it had just been so long since he had seen them, and in French, no less. Though determined not to look at him, what made it worse was that he could just sense that sickening grin creeping up Francis’s face, spreading more and more by the minute. If only he had just remembered how irritating and inconvenient, unprofessional and repulsive the Frenchman was… Being apart for so long made him more alluring when he really knew what the bastard was like. If he had been prepared, why, he wouldn’t be bounding after him, through dirty, smoggy streets; his heart racing, his stern glare only slightly beating out the flutter in his chest and the small twitch at the corner of his lips. Incorrigible.

#fruk #ukfr #england/france #france/england #hetalia fic #hetalia fanfiction

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mc-critical · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, I just found your blog and I like it very much, it’s very interesting to read!!!. My question is : what is your opinion on Ahmed and Kosem’s relationship? Do you think he truly loves her? What do you think about him seeing other women? And what do you think about his relationship with these women (Mahfiruz, Katerina, Gulbahar and Yasemin).

Thank you for liking my stuff!

I think that, just like Süleiman, Ahmet loves Kösem in his own way. It's not as toxic or problematic or often questionable writing-wise as Süleiman's love for Hürrem, but it still has both its ups and downs that make it interesting to explore.

Ahmet and Kösem is perhaps the love story where the writers made the most effort to mask the possible worse aspects of. It could even be considered actually romantic at points, with their amazing first scenes in the gardens and the amazing chemistry of Ekin Koç and Anastasia Tsilimpou, the beginning sense of wonder and "mystery" it started out with.... when she first met him, Anastasia didn't know he was the sultan and put all her trust in him - a certainly good first impression. Ahmet himself is also very far from Süleiman's direct endeavors and tests of loyalty, he tries his best to be respectful in his own way, despite that he fails to do that a bunch of times. That's why it's easy to miss the darker aspects of the relationship at first and it could be perceived as probably the only thing in the franchise that is remotely close to a "fairytale" of sorts.

However, when the curtains start to fall slowly, but surely, we come to realize that while, say, Hürrem learns to want what Süleiman wants, to be fully loyal to him and to cave to his demands just like he often caves to her own, Ahmet and Kösem as characters have entirely different values and needs throughout their whole relationship. The fact that Ahmet wanted Anastasia because of a picture, without him having ever met her, is incredibly telling: he has created an ideal of her in his own head from the start and he wants to consistently maintain it. When he's with her, it's as if he's living his own dream, his own perfect world that has place only for him and that young girl. (that's why the garden is so symbolic: Ahmet calls it a place of solitude, only for himself almost immediately after the audience is introduced to it; also that line from him: "The world is on one side, Kösem - on the other." - quoting by memory again, but the meaning is the same) Their world views gained from their past and present environments begin to clash from the moment she finds out he's a Sultan - she wants to desperately go back to her family, both because all of them are still alive and her free spirit that cannot bear to live in this golden cage. Ahmet doesn't let her go also because he lacks the understanding of this desire: he has grown in the strict Ottoman system and having people like Anastasia stay in the harem forever is something he finds perfectly natural; for him it's unthinkable to stand against it. But despite of that "minor offense", Ahmet's idea of Anastasia's "purity" and "perfection" was working for awhile, with her seeming to meet his expectations and slowly warm up to him. But the real truth is way stronger than your own made-up lies. Anastasia's pleas to let her go only get stronger until they reach their climax with her attempt to escape. And you know what? If it weren't for her contrived, yet convenient excuse to come back to him, he would've lost her. Helplessly, in a blink of an eye, he would've lost her, due to what she sees as sheer ignorance from his part. And when she gains her own bit of agency later in the season and becomes Kösem, when she develops and realizes the actual stakes of the game, beginning to play it herself due to survival by default and the will for revenge, Ahmet's "perfect picture" breaks apart and that apparently hurt him so much, he stayed mad at her for quite some time. This wasn't the person he knew and loved anymore, this was an entirely new, reborn woman. He didn't seem to love and respect her for the virtues she actually possessed, but for those that he had imagined her to always have in his head. That is another, more "subtle" level of toxicity than with Hürrem and Süleiman, but it's still toxicity, that's why this relationship is far from healthy and the "beautiful, but quirky" dynamic it sets the impression of.

Kösem's view of Ahmet is very interesting and complex, writing-wise. I actually don't think she grew to love him as much. The place she forcibly got in made her feel very limited by him mostly, since he was the reason she was here in the first place and he was calling the shots in terms of her future (whether she would visit her family or not?). What made her become a bit affectionate wasn't fully him himself, but rather the oh-so-prominent theme of adaption in the harem. She wanted to escape so desperately, but there were so many happenings and situations during the time she was in the harem that just demanded for her to get used to everything. So when Iskender gave her the chance to escape, she as become used to the harem's environment so much, she felt unsure of herself outside of it. Her return was out of necessity rather than love and even her standing up to the people when Ahmet was sick was done out of necessity, too (like I elaborated in another ask about Kösem). I'm not saying that she didn't feel any affection whatsoever, but the affection she felt for him was easy to let go of (E25: "Today I didn't marry only Sultan Ahmet, I married the country!"), because I don't think Ahmet did his best efforts to understand her and I don't think Kösem felt completely comfortable around him, all that contrasted with Kemankeş in S02, who according to her, understands her better than anyone ever could.

Ahmet loves Kösem, because even after his perfect picture with her was broken and his anger and denial and refusal to accept it passed, he did try to make things better. What I loved most about his dynamic with Kösem, is his open honesty with her that continued till the end. There have been scenes where they seemed like true companions, especially their beginning one in E21 with all the kids gathered around them. I loved that despite of his mistakes, he did try to set things right. There was this sudden protectiveness that activated in him when Kösem told him the truth about the death of his father and why she acted the way she did and that could mean she now became something of a "cinnamon roll he just protect" and that is certainly a flawed mindset to have in many aspects, but that showed he could actually care for her beyond his idealistic perspective of her.

Am I okay with Ahmet having other women? Honestly, I'm glad that MCK lowered the concubine arcs to a minimum and with the way they did it, it doesn't offend me as much. I would even love some of them to be more developed for a change, because they did turn out to be solely drama tools, thanks to their lesser episodes and MCK's different themes as a whole, that basically did their purpose and left, instead of stretch out and outstay their welcome and that is just the other extreme in a bad disguise.

I won't talk about the relationship he had with his other women as much, because they just aren't fleshed out. I would've liked to see more of Ahmet and Mahfiruze: I believe he was way more decent with her than say, Süleiman was with Mahidevran, and their scenes weren't half bad. Too bad that would've demanded Mahfiruze herself to be fleshed out more as a character and the writers to give her more of a place in the narrative. Katerina was present only for an episode (or was it two episodes?) and we don't have as much conclusions to drive here. We only have his mild infatuation with her and... that's it? We have no idea what Katerina actually felt or how their dynamic would play out in the long run. We can only speculate. Gülbahar, by contrast, also had the least screentime of all his women who have comparatively minimal screentime, but her exploration in S02 helps us gain a better idea of how it went between them. I have the impression that she was the least favourite concubine of Ahmet's, ever. She did succeed to get pregnant and have a child, but it probably was a one and done thing and she didn't seem to get any other grasp of manly affection since then. Which is why, along with them taking away Bayezid from her by exiling her, she was so focused on scheming for one particular goal and this became what defined her. But then again, that is still a speculation in my part. Now, with Yasemin we have much more on-screen chemistry and interaction: that relationship felt very similar with what Süleiman thought of Firuze - infatuation, massive infatuation, but still not love, because just like Firuze, Yasemin also gave him poison and we don't know how much the poison affected his psyche, along with the sickness it brought upon him. These relationships have the opposite problem MC's concubine arcs had: these women were all unfavored or favored very temporarily in the span of an episode or two, which made them very stale and lacking in material.

Lastly, while MCK in its entirety, isn't very big on love stories, Kösem and Ahmet's relationship still had an evolution throughout S01, even if that evolution was more "condensed" than the others similar to it. It still remains the most fleshed out love story in the show, along with Kösem and Kemankeş's, and it was a very important part of the story that helped shape much of the narrative that succeeds it.

#magnificent century #magnificent century kosem #magnificent century kösem #magnificent century: kösem #sultan ahmed #kosem sultan #kösem sultan #ask #elenahoward

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lizacstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Sen Çal Kapımı / Edser ask from episode 43 (2x04)

AKA Serkan’s episode.

There is also speculation about episode 44 based on the fragmans and a few random asks

(Asks under the cut)

Anonymous asked: Hey, Liza! How did you like the ep? I still get chills when watching the diary x video scene and the final one.. Finally the truth is out to both Serkan and Kiraz! And that fragman! 😍 but It seems like Aydan filing for custody will be the new drama, do you think it will last long? Because I highly doubt that they will give solely happy edser and Kiraz in remaining episodes..

My full episode thoughts are here, but I agree the diary and video scene was spectacular. It makes me teary every time.

I’m also psyched that the truth is out. Truthfully, I was one that wanted Serkan to find out at the end of the first episode, but now I concede that it was better to draw it out a bit to really build everything up to this episode and his journey to letting go of his fears. What a character arc they gave him. They really explored Serkan and what drives him this episode and it was a treat-- a painful treat-- to watch it all unfold and for him to finally admit what had driven him to push her away all those years ago and what was still holding him back in the present.

As for what’s next, that’s a great question. I agree that it’s unlikely we’re going to get happy Edser family from here on out, there has to be some obstacles and drama before we get to the end. The Aydan custody drama will clearly be the conflict in episode 5, but I don’t see it as any real barrier for Eda and Serkan. We see in the second fragman that Eda is already confronting Serkan about it, so if Aydan is doing something underhanded they can’t draw it out too long.

I assume that while the custody thing may cause a wee bit of miscommunication between Eda and Serkan, I think it mostly will serve as fodder for Aydan and Ayfer’s relationship dynamic and give the supporting characters something to run around and chase after while Eda, Serkan and Kiraz actually start forming their new family unit. If anything it might serve as a catalyst for Serkan. Picture it, Eda confronts Serkan about it and Serkan is like “I don’t know anything about that, I wouldn’t do something that would hurt you or Kiraz, but I do want her, I want us.” You know, serve to clarify things.

There are probably a few episodes of family drama in store for us as everyone, including Eda, Serkan and Kiraz adjust to this new reality. I assume once the euphoria of having her Baba back wears off for Kiraz, she might ask some questions that are hard for Eda and Serkan to answer. We shall see.

Anonymous asked: i don't think i've cried THIS much at an sck episode... in like ever lmao. i was full on silent sobbing at serkan watching kiraz's baby videos.. but the scene i really loved the most was the one where they have it out after that fancy dinner. it was EVERYTHING we needed to hear serkan's POV and i almost can't believe a lot of us got the "can't have kids" theory right. i have loved so much this season how edser have communicated, even when it's painful and hard.. it was sorely missing for them.

I know! The communication! I don’t think they’ve ever communicated like this. Of course their issues were not as deep and nuanced back in the first batch of episodes so going this in-depth wasn’t necessary, but they didn’t communicate like this when dealing with Babaanne or when it was really needed after the amnesia era.

Honestly, so pleased the “can’t have kids” theory was correct. It goes so far in explaining his actions and thought process when pushing her away, as distorted as that thought process was. It truly was selfless, because I’m sure all he wanted was to hold her tight and never let go, but it was also so unnecessary. Their love story has just been so tragic, but if you think about how many things were stacked against them, it’s also stunning that their love has persevered. They were so opposite and unlikely to fall in love to begin with and then you add in all the things that stood in their way, meddling mothers, family secrets, Serkan’s father being responsible for her parents death, evil, rich, powerful grandmother using everything in her considerable arsenal to keep them apart, psycho stalkers, kidnapping princes, crashing planes, amnesia, brainwashing and abusive exes, plotting “friends,” tumor, cancer, separation!

To come out of all of that and to see they are clearly still in love with one another... well they really don’t have any other choice. They should get married immediately with no pomp and circumstance just so they are legally tied together. So when the next tragic, catastrophic thing comes along it will be that much harder to pull them apart.

Anonymous asked: deniz and burak are the most harmless "3rd party" characters we've ever had in the show that it almost makes me laugh when ppl get so insecure about them.. especially with burak, knowing that he's gonna be melo's love interest, even if i don't want it. like, sure serkan is naturally gonna be jealous, maybe possessive, because of "buba" but it's all being shown right now as light comedic relief.. i've seen some people REALLY take it to heart when it really doesn't seem like it's that deep lol.

I know, it’s all so mild. They also aren’t actually even third party love interests, because there is absolutely zero interest from either side of the main pair. Both are there to a) serve plot purposes and b) show that neither Eda or Serkan is interested in anybody else. It’s nice, we get to see that while they both have had options, neither has been able to move on and both have chosen to remain alone.

As for driving the plot, Burak’s presence was necessary because they needed someone who Serkan thought was Kiraz’s father, and Deniz was necessary because they needed someone who would do whatever Serkan wanted when Serkan wanted to force proximity with Eda.

Looking at the fragman, the real “triangle” might be Buba - Kiraz - Baba but I also think that will mostly be played for laughs. A way to give us some “Drain the pool” and “Burn the flowers” type jealousy moments from Serkan, since that was a hallmark of Ayse’s early writing.

However, I can see why some folks were put-off by that vibe. Because, yes, if you’ve been standing in as a male-figure for the 5-year-old daughter of the woman you’re tying to woo (let’s not pretend that’s not why Burak takes such an interest in Kiraz) and the father that the 5-year-old has been wanting and pining for actually re-enters the picture, maybe you don’t need to force your way in and have “Buba day” the day after he returns. I’m not saying you can’t have it ever again, I’m saying you let the family have some alone time and figure things out. Anyone with any emotional intelligence would postpone such an outing. However, it looks like Serkan is not put off so easily and we know he doesn’t lose, so it will probably lead to humorous scenes.

The good thing about this is that it shows that Serkan won’t sit passively by. Here Burak is giving him an out, Serkan can have his day back, go to work, he can slide into fatherhood slowly, but looks like Serkan is going to have none of that and is going to crash their fishing outing. How’s that for someone who said he wasn’t ready for fatherhood a mere 24-48 hours earlier?

Also it’s worth noting that Kiraz doesn’t see Burak as a father-figure, if she did she probably would have joined Ayfer and tried to get her mom to marry him. Instead she’s been almost obsessed with her father, talking about him, dreaming about him, wanting him and was very quick to correct when someone mistook Baba and Buba. Also she wanted Buba to meet her father. So Kiraz wanting to spend time with him isn’t a slight, in her mind he’s a friend, an uncle and with all the upheaval keeping their plans might feel safe to her. We’ll see.

martha0206 asked: Hi! I love your pinned post. That moment was perfect. Also, I loved the sad and emotional scenes as well as the funny ones. The episode was amazing!!! ❤ Serkan made Kiraz dream come true and I've rewatched that scene and cried because it's too beautiful and touching 🥺 K: Dad? S: Happy Birthday, my daughter 🥺😭❤

Ahh... this post that was pinned. Thank you for the kind words, I also love that scene. I just love it because it’s such an EXTRA thing to do, putting on the astronaut costume and making an entrance like that, but both Serkan and Eda have always been so extra that it works for their little family.

I love that he made Kiraz’s dream come true in the most dramatic way possible. But beyond being dramatic, it was the perfect way to signal that no matter what fears or hang-ups Serkan had, he’s committed to getting over them and he’s ready to go all in on fatherhood. A perfect way to show not only Eda that he’s serious, but to show all their friends and family he’s serious. DO YOU HEAR THAT, AYFER? He’s back and he’s going to be her daddy, and there is nothing you can do about it!

Anonymous asked: do you think the writers goal is to make us hate Ayfer and Aydan? because its just a deeper and deeper hole for these two and I don't understand if they're supposed to be a happy family at the end. I actually realized going back that Ayfer never really developed into liking Serkan/Edser, she just accepted him one day and that was that but with Aydan, her character development was top tier up until episode 29 came along and she never recovered. Now I just want them gone.

LOL, I think this is a pretty popular sentiment among fans.

Personally, I need to see how badly Aydan is meddling in the next episode. If it’s fairly inept meddling that just causes some mild misunderstandings but also serves as a catalyst for an Edser conversation about the future, I probably won’t get too upset with her. However, if her meddling is more competent this time and she gets them into real trouble or causes real problems, then I’ll get annoyed with her. Although, I have to say if we need a few episodes of drama, I would rather this sort of controlled, family drama (meddling mamas causing a misunderstanding about custody) then, you know, other melodramatic things that certain other writing teams used to do... like kidnappings and obsessed stalkers.

As for Aydan, I can’t help it, even though I can never forgive her transgression in 29, I feel sorry that she lost out on so much of her granddaughter’s life. So if she wants to come in and cause headaches and drama for Ayfer (not Eda, Kiraz and Serkan... but Ayfer) then I have no problem with that. As far as I’m concerned those two can run around for the next few episodes playing cat and mouse while Eda/Serkan/Kiraz quietly form a family.

Honestly, I don’t think they want us to hate Aydan, because they give Aydan funny scenes and relationships outside of Serkan with Kemal and Seyfi and even Engin and Piril, but I have wondered if they want us to hate Ayfer. Because Ayfer doesn’t get any redeeming scenes. I mean we’re talking about a woman who managed to raise her orphaned niece and her niece never wanted for love and turned out to be a strong, smart, confidence, successful woman... sooooo she must be awesome, right!?! NOPE. I mean to take a character like that, who had to have been so instrumental in Eda not feeling lonely like Serkan did, but then make her so unlikeable... it has to be on purpose.

Anonymous asked: I loved this episode of sen cal kapimi. I wasn’t so mad at the pregnancy thing. I know lots of fans are but I really liked how they made Eda and Serkan emotional and we could understand them better. I just hate how all the people who don’t like the show anymore have turned into toxic haters. It’s so frustrating. If she show isnt working for you, then why do they keep watching? 🙁

This happens in every fandom where the show keeps going and takes turns that some fans don’t like. My best advice is to not expect others to change or to stop watching or stop hate tweeting/posting, but to take steps to change your own experience so they don’t ruin it for you. I can’t tell you how many people I currently have muted on twitter. Lots. I don’t want to see the cynical, nasty tweets day in and day out about this show, the writers etc. Twitter has always been hard to take because so many people post their knee-jerk responses there and often choose to word vomit their first emotional response which for some people is mostly negative. That is true for every fandom, and has been true for this fandom since I started looking at responses there.

So to protect yourself, seek out people who are enjoying the show and post content that you want to see and mute, unfollow or even block those who make your experience worse.

You’ll never regret curating your experience.

Also I don’t really consider this fandom toxic. Sure there’s negativity about the storyline and internal drama about a variety of things, but after you’ve been though shipwars that get hella toxic and include fans trying to destroy actor’s careers and who attempt to use social justice issues to bully their fanon ships into existence on a constant day-after-day basis for years, this is nothing. This fandom is a daisy-lined, sunlight walk in the park in comparison.

Anonymous asked: For the way they treat their child's SO, I prefer Aydan over Ayfer. Ofc Aydan has been selfish & rude to Eda but Aydan saw her as a respectable foe even when she didn't like Eda. Even now her ire has been directed more at Ayfer than Eda. Ayfer eventually accepted Serkan but never seemed to like him. I get why she thought he was bad for Eda but often her anger has been unwarranted. Ironic how mad she was at him for keeping a secret from Eda for 2 weeks. Even now we see how Ayfer's anger sways Eda

I also prefer Aydan over Ayfer, here’s my recent post on it.

The problem is not that Ayfer never liked Serkan, the problem is that Ayfer never care that Eda did like him. Ayfer can dislike him all she wants as long as she doesn’t interfere, but oh wait, she has interfered, time and time again. She’s used guilt and manipulation in attempts to control Eda at every turn, to the point, at times, of not caring that she was forcing Eda to sacrifice her career as well as her love.

It will be interesting to see Ayfer’s response when she realizes Eda is going to let Serkan into their lives. Will she double down on badmouthing Serkan and pressuring Eda not to get involved with him, or will she smarten up and back off? I think we know the answer to that.

Anonymous asked: Hii! I’m curious what they will come up with for the remaining episodes, I mean, drama-wise, cause no way will Ayse give us 7 episodes of Edser x Kiraz happy family time 🥺 but sure, that is also reasonable since Turks need drama to keep watching

You know, as I said above, I’m very curious about this. To be honest I didn’t really expect Eda and Serkan to be at this emotional place by the 4th episode. I mean they’re not totally ready to get back together, but they’ve both made it obvious that they still love one another, and that is kind of a big milestone in a romantic story.

Seriously, my assumption prior to the season was that we’d have these initial finding out episodes, and then Eda and Serkan would still be sort of outwardly pretending that they didn’t want to get back together, or still angry at one another, but then they’d be forced together by Kiraz. You know there’d be some parent trapping, and a handcuff episodes and then Kiraz would manipulate them into living together and we’d get all sorts of domestic sexual tension scenes. Now these things may still happen to some degree, but Edser is starting from a very different outward emotional place than I thought they would be. I assumed we’d get another 4-5 episodes of slow burn, forced proximity before they admitted things and got engaged. But now it feels like their feelings are out in the open and they could decide to get married at any moment.

So we’ll have to see how the writer’s decide to chart their emotional journey over the remaining episodes. One thing I’m sure of, there are some wonderful scenes coming our way.

Anonymous asked: I'm back and happy to say that Engin delivered!! THAT is how you use a side character. (Not whatever they were doing with Ayfer for what seemed like half the episode) This was a perfect scene for these two and had no business being as emotional as it was

Oh, yes, as I said here in my episode thoughts, the Engin/Serkan scene is the one that really started me crying on first watch. Anil was really fantastic in that scene and it made me realize how sorely I had missed Serkan/Engin as male best friends who actually talk about their emotions. Where was that guy when Serkan was being brainwashed and manipulated by Selin!?! Oh yeah he was in the hands of inept writers.

Glad the real Engin is back!

Anonymous asked: Serkan's vehemence against wanting kids, and his dislike of kids in general, make so much more sense with what was revealed.. we just had to be patient! I can't imagine wanting something so much, having it be your "dream" and being told it's impossible.. Serkan's method of dealing with it was trying to convince himself he never wanted it in the first place and trying to dislike the topic altogether. no wonder he was never close with Can either as an uncle... how heartbreaking!

Yes, I absolutely think that was part of it. He dealt with the fact that he couldn't have children by outwardly adopting the attitude that he never wanted it, even though he still knew deep down that it’s all he wanted with Eda.

Heartbreaking indeed.

Anonymous asked: i hate to think of more drama when it seems like we have such a fluff-filled episode next week.. but this week's conversations b/w edser have me thinking.. do you think a possibility of reoccurrence of his tumor, or just a scare could be coming as one of their "final" hurdles. except this time instead of making his mistakes from the past, he'll do it right this time. obviously everything will be resolved happily, but i was thinking of the possibility of this when serkan was discussing his health

While anything is possible, I don’t see a reoccurrence of his tumor happening because they had a scene where the doctor said he was in perfect health and that since it had been five years he now had the same chance of occurrence as an ordinary person. However, I suppose it’s not impossible that they give him some sort of scare so that he can prove he’s changed and that they won’t abandon his family if that sort of adversity comes again.

Honestly, if I was Eda, I would make him go to therapy as a condition of them getting back together. Make sure he develops some coping skills for the long haul.

Anonymous asked: the ending of the last episode was equivalent to ep 11 but kiraz version for me.. the whole build-up of serkan initially thinking he can't be her father - a good father - and his fears about leaving them both halfway culminating in him saying kiraz is a miracle, that she's perfect.. watching her home videos to showing up WHEN IT MATTERED!! for his daughter.. ugh i'm so glad there was that build-up, but also that it wasn't stretched out over multiple episodes.

Yes, I agree it was all really well done. It did feel like we had all the build up we needed to truly appreciate the moment and to appreciate Serkan’s extraordinary character arc.

He truly rose to the occasion at the right moment, and I love that his grand gesture not only made Kiraz’s dream come true, but it showed everyone his growth and acceptance of his role as her father.

Anonymous asked: can they just bring back Tahir - him and Melo had so much potential. let's just say he finally quit working for Babaanne and decided to come back to Istanbul to find Melo 😊

Yes, please! He really liked her! Though she never really liked him, lmao. She could have gotten there with time. Though, I guess if she really likes Burak I can get behind it. And by that I mean I won’t bitch about it too much. No promises. We shall see.

Anonymous asked: Anon here! Thank you so much for that explanation!!!! It seems really interesting, might just have to give it a chance now! Thank you kindly 😊😊

It’s a fun show and I do recommend it. Let me know if you start watching!

#Sen Çal Kapımı #Sen Cal Kapimi #edser #sck episode discussion #sck discussion #edser discussion #serkan bolat #sckask #asklizac #anonymous

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arysthaeniru · 4 years ago

Note

You said you could infodump on Okinawa? Could you tell me more about Okinawa? I know some basic stuff (independent Ryukyuan kingdom effectively until late 1800s, culturally distinct, Hawai'i : USA : : Okinawa : Japan, lot of American bases creating tension since WWII, kinda thing), but I'd love to know more.

Oh Omi, I am so late with this response, but I’m so excited to talk about Okinawa!!!

(It’s so funny, I’m actually currently associated with an organization called the Okinawa Memories Initiative (OMI) for short, so this has been a funny little joke for my sleep-deprived mind.)

So, Okinawan history is really long and complicated, as all good histories are, so I guess I’ll start with the idea that even though Okinawa is not formally and officially considered a place where indigenous people live, that is absolutely the case! Okinawa has close to about 800 separate dialects across the archipelago chain, and those have been classified into 6 completely distinct languages by linguists and language preservationists. Okinawan clothes, religion, customs, food and environment are very very distinct from mainland Japanese customs, and actually, Okinawan customs mirror the only indigenous group that Japan does recognize, the Ainu, more than it ever looks like mainland Japan.

Despite all of that, Okinawan people are not recognized as an indigenous group officially, and that’s solely because of the American presence on the island. The base situation on Okinawa would be illegal by the UN conventions, were Okinawa considered to be an indigenous population, so bureaucratically, Okinawans are not considered indigenous peoples. Many Okinawans themselves have debates about this: some people wish to be recognized as distinct from Japanese, but the vast majority of Okinawans think of themselves as Japanese and part of Japan, and although they have a different culture, they see it in the same way that Osaka or Hiroshima has slightly different customs from Tokyo. And even those who consider themselves to be distinct from mainland Japanese folks don’t necessarily like the term “indigenous” very much either!

The base issue on-island today is very heated because these issues actually stem back much longer than just the American occupation. The idea of Okinawan indigeneity is long and tumultuous.

But, let’s take a small detour: Why are the Americans on the island still? That’s a good question. After WW2 and the historically bloody Battle of Okinawa, the Americans took over Okinawa, hoping to use it as a place to launch a mainland attack on Japan, before the idea of atomic bombs were publicized. After the atomic bombs, however, the U.S was very confused about what to do with Okinawa, for a period of about 4 years. They figured they would do to Okinawa what they did to Japan: set the island up to be economically stable, maybe economically dependent on the U.S, and just leave. They didn’t see much to be gained from Okinawa: it’s pretty barren and not super fertile for growing crops, not like the Philippines was. Then, in 1949, the Chinese Communist Party won the Chinese Civil War, and the U.S decided that no, actually, they weren’t going to leave.

This is a map of Okinawa. It’s a military strategy map, and it’s one of the reasons America calls Okinawa, “The Keystone of the Pacific” -- in the midst of Cold War Era preparations, the holding of Okinawa became crucial as a part of America’s Communist Containment Strategy against North Korea and China and Vietnam.

The U.S. was like, “Psyche! If any of you start a war or get too cocky, we’ll be there within the hour to send troops down, so. Don’t do that! This is a deterrent strategy :)”

The Okinawans, of course, replied back, “Hey. If you’re close enough to China to drop a bomb on them within the hour, aren’t they close enough to us to drop a bomb on us within the hour?”

And the U.S said, “Don’t worry about it :) Your lives aren’t important enough.” This is where a lot of the anger, fear and frustration about the American presence on Okinawa comes from, the fear that Okinawa could get nuked or bombed, in a Pearl Harbour strategy to get rid of America’s major firepower, a process that would harm Okinawans who don’t feel they’re involved or interested in any of America or Japan’s major fights with the rest of the world.

During the Cold War, Okinawa was used as the launch point for troops headed to the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and even the Afghanistan War. And Okinawans, on their own island, were treated like secondary citizens by the U.S Military Provisional Government. One of the biggest archival records of the injustices that the U.S government inflicted upon Okinawans is the land seizure and underpayment of money for the land seizure, documented and detailed by the U.S provisional government from the 1950s-1960s. By the U.S Government’s own admission, they cheated Okinawans out of millions and millions of dollars, by seizing their land, preventing their crop growth, and underpaying them for the value of the land: and this isn’t even taking into account the significance of the US government stealing ancestral lands, and building bases over and around big ancestral tombs on Okinawa, and barring people access from those tombs.

(This is an image of a golf course onbase, that just has an ancestral tomb there. You can’t get onto base without a U.S passport, and Okinawans have a festival called Obon, which is very similar to Toussaint and Day of the Dead, where you go to your ancestral tombs and clean it up/pay your respects. This is now impossible for this particular family)

Okinawa is the poorest prefecture in Japan, and although it’s certainly because of pre-war discrimination and the destruction of pretty much all Okinawan capital during the war, the post-war suppression of Okinawan wealth, through the U.S. Military Government’s extortion plays a huge role

There was a large protest movement, headed by a man called Ahagon Shoko, against the U.S Base presence, specifically centred around the issues of land seizure and land rights. Another concurrent movement, started by more liberal, anti-war Okinawans, was centred on removing the U.S base presence because of the threats faced by Okinawans during the Cold War. A third movement, filled with people who felt more closely aligned with Japanese nationalists, and were fed up of the strange, new customs that the American government was imposing upon the populace, pushed for Okinawa to return to Japan. These movements all put a lot of pressure on the U.S Military government, and eventually led to the 1972 Reversion of Okinawa from American control to Japanese control.

This wasn’t the happiest solution. After all, during the war, Japan’s fascistic treatment of Okinawans as expendable soldiers who have to give up everything for the Emperor—but also, your language and customs are backwards and we think you’re inherently untrustworthy—was something most Okinawans despised. Going back to Japan was not an ideal solution for many who felt humiliated by mainland Japanese folks.

However. Even though the island was now part of Japan, the U.S bases never left. A few were shut down, but the majority of the large bases remained. This was, in many ways, a problem.

Some statistics (which are highly contested, so take them with a grain of salt!) 75% of the American bases in Japan are congregated on Okinawa, taking up over 35% of the available land on Okinawa. Of the land that has been paved over by the American bases, about 65% is supposed to be arable, fertile land. For what the American bases primarily do, which is working with experimental technology and running field training, the American bases are FAR too close to cities and places where people live, especially in a town called Ginowan.

This is just a screenshot of Google Maps around MCAS Futenma, and you can see just how closely the base hugs the town. What you can also see is the proximity of several schools and universities to the edge of the base, which has been the cause for many tragic accidents. Okinawa International University's incident with the Osprey crashing into one of the buildings, and injuring several students, is perhaps the most well-known issue, but just last year, a helicopter window fell out of a test vehicle, and landed on the elementary school playground, which only just narrowly avoided killing students.

The daily noise pollution is more of a problem, though. One of my friends, is actually in the process of writing a research paper, with an ARC GIS map describing the levels of noise pollution in the cities around bases. It’s not published yet, so I don’t have the images for you, but ALL of the bases violate international laws about noise pollution that’s acceptable for civilians to be exposed to. It’s pretty bad.

So, there’s been a movement to get rid of the bases on Okinawa lately, and in some ways, it succeeded. The U.S government has agreed to eventually get rid of MCAS Futenma. Bill Clinton signed a bill in 1992 saying it would eventually be removed.

However, the military is constantly infighting, there’s a big pissing competition between the Army, Marines and the Air Force, and the Marines were not happy with the idea that their influence on Okinawa would be reduced (MCAS Futenma is one of the biggest Marine bases on-island.) So instead, they decide to expand their base at Camp Schwab, which is up in the north of Okinawa, in a place called Henoko.

(This is a picture of Camp Schwab and Oura Bay: all of the marked-out land has been filled in with concrete by this point.)

You’ve probably heard of Henoko in the news a lot, its construction is a huge controversy. Henoko is special for a multitude of reasons. Not only is it a spiritual place for many of the Okinawans there, it’s also home to one of the largest coral reefs in Japan AND it’s the home of the endangered species, the dugong. To build out Henoko, they would have to destroy the coral reef by filling in the bay with concrete, and they would have to destroy a lot of the natural wildlife on land and in the ocean. Understandably, Okinawans and wildlife activists alike were NOT pleased.

Activists set up a large protest tent outside Camp Schwab, and have been there since the 1990s, when the Henoko construction was first announced. The main protestors there are old folks, and although the news loves to pretend that the base issue is only a thing that old people care about, that’s just not the case. Younger people have jobs and school and can’t be there, but the mood of the populace is very much against new bases being built!

(On a sidenote, a lot of young folks don’t mind the existing bases being around, actually, but it’s a complicated and nuanced topic, especially when we discuss young women. For more details, I would suggest the INCREDIBLE book by Akemi Johnson, Night in the American Village, which details the ways in which Okinawan women interface with American troops in positive and intensely negative ways. The American military gets extremely bad press in Okinawa for the frequent rapes, and violent incidents that occur every couple years like clockwork.)

(I was actually at this protest, which happened in 2018, after the death of beloved Okinawan Governor, Takeshi Onaga, who was a staunch anti-military-base politician. Thousands of people were gathered together on this incredibly rainy and miserable day, that precluded a typhoon, just to voice their support against the bases. It was truly a moment of understanding just how deeply he base issue rings in the hearts of many, even if they can’t afford to express it all the time.)

Anyway, after a lot of back-and-forths, and issues with Henoko constantly being brought to the appeals court in San Francisco and dismissed by the U.S. Government, the issue comes to a head in 2019. New governor, Denny Tamaki, is appointed as the successor to Takeshi Onaga, and he’s very anti-base as well! In fact, one of the first things he does, is hold a referendum, to gauge the Okinawan mood against Henoko’s construction. What’s the outcome?

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Absolutely unsurprising for anybody who’d been paying attention. More than 70% of Okinawans are against the bases. Does this stop the American construction in any way? Nope! In fact, just three days after the referendum results were released, the bay was completely filled in with concrete and the coral reef was destroyed.

You might be wondering at this point: why does Japan tolerate the presence of the American military in what is actually a Japanese prefecture? Well, simply put, the Japanese-American alliance is incredibly strong at this point, and is almost entirely from self-preservation. In the Japanese constitution created by Americans in the aftermath of WW2, racist Americans thought that the Japanese people were simply “predisposed towards war” and the only way to prevent Japan’s imperialism was to prevent them from being militaristic all together. Article Nine of the Japanese Constitution bans Japan from having a standing army. Japan doesn’t really obey this. The Japan Self Defense Force is actually the fifth largest army in the world in terms of firepower: with the caveat that they can’t start conflicts, they can only defend themselves and aid their allies. So, America and Japan are deeply tied together, because America could potentially start wars Japan can’t, and help defend them, in the event of a war.

Japan, as I mentioned before, also still has something of a discriminatory attitude toward Okinawans. Pretty every depiction of Okinawans I’ve seen in Japanese popular media is filled with hurtful stereotypes and is pretty xenophobic? And many Okinawans describe going to mainland Japan as something very strange, because there’s this common perception that they’re uneducated hicks or whatever. Okinawans still aren’t really considered Japanese, and so there’s very much a NIMBY attitude about the military bases by the Japanese government. They essentially think, “Well, the American bases are a necessary evil to keeping Japan safe. Oh, and most of them are congregated in Okinawa, where the average Japanese citizen won’t ever see them? Great!”

(Not to mention, a few of the big bases on Okinawa are JSDF bases and are equally despised by Okinawans too, and there’s an understanding of why the Japanese government is fine with American interference, and refuses to allow Okinawan opinion to sway their minds).

Although construction had been halted onsite for a while, because of coronavirus, it’s back to building as usual, despite the ongoing protests at Henoko. I don’t think the Okinawan people win this battle against the will of the American government, destroying things all over the world, as they are wont to do.

In one final piece of tragedy, the last Okinawan dugong has been missing for the past few months, after the other two were found dead. We think it’s almost certainly dead too. The dugongs, who are spiritual vessels in the Okinawan religion, are a true loss.

In terms of Okinawan language and culture and stuff, I think I might need another post entirely to discuss that, but some incredibly special and incredible parts is:

Okinawan Music, usually sung in uchinaaguchi! Both more traditional songs like Tinsagu no Hana (remixed here by some cool folks!) and some newer songs by BEGIN like Nada Sou Sou and Shimanchu nu Takara! Just some incredibly moving stuff.

One of the many folk dances on Okinawa, Eisa! Eisa’s usually performed during the Obon season and it’s such a beautiful and skilled dance coordinated by so many! One of the most fun things during Eisa season is every year, 10,000 Eisa dancers fill up International Street in Naha and dance pretty much all day! Here’s a video of the festival that I went to (but not my video, since I didn’t have a tripod that day)

The UNESCO page and its justifications for why it chose certain Okinawan sites is a good useful place to start, when thinking of unique Okinawan architecture! From the red-brick roof tiles of Shuri Castle (which was tragically destroyed in a fire in late 2019), to the unique constructions of all the old gusuku, made without mortar, to the beautiful Seifa Utaki, where many practitioners of Okinawan religion gather for its spiritual connections, there’s a lot to learn!

Okinawan pottery is absolutely gorgeous! One of the main recognized styles is tsuboya-yaki, which was created in the Ryukyuan Dynasty in the 1400-1500s, but refined by Kinjo Jiro, a man so good at redefining Okinawan Pottery, he was called a Living Treasure! All pottery in Okinawa used to be centred around the Tsuboya district in Naha, but when Kinjo moved up to Yomitan, some many people followed him that Yomitan is now a pottery destination! There are other styles too, influenced by China and Korea.

I could keep going. Okinawa’s known for all of its folk-crafts. From bingata, to lacquerware, to kijoka-bashofu, to ryukyu glass...there’s an incredibly vibrant and alive culture, for all that people want to pretend Okinawan cultures are dead and in the past.

I wrote my undergraduate thesis on the way that Okinawan culture is both dependent on the sorts of tourism that keeps a lot of these folk-crafts and traditional sites relevant and funded, but are also destroyed by the ways that tourists bring their own colonialist visions to Okinawa and how Japan’s influence in Okinawan tourist sites keeps alive imperialist narratives about Okinawa, and how tourist presence often destroys the natural beauty of a lot of these sites. It’s a constant difficult survival of balancing the two, but it’s not an unfamiliar struggle for anybody who studies indigenous island cultures and the way that tourism works in those places. In any case, thinking about Okinawan culture in a non-touristy sense is the best thing to do!

#long post #okinawa #henoko #niru's infodump

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #295

i’m not listening to music so am blanking on lyrics to put here lol

Who’s your favorite rapper? And your favorite song by this rapper? Eminem. "Cinderella Man" is probably my favorite, or "Space Bound." How about your favorite band? And your favorite song by this band? Ozzy Osbourne, if I had to pick solely one. God, picking a favorite song, though... idk, maybe "Trap Door," but it's almost impossible for me to decide. Have you ever had the cops called on you? For what? No. Would you rather be home alone, or have people with you? Why? I'd rather have people home, but alone in my room. I just feel less lonely. Have you ever dropped a class in school? Which class, and why did it suck? I dropped some class in college that I can't remember the name of... I completely misjudged what it would be like. I had absolutely zero interest. I feel like I've dropped another, too? Have you ever taken someone back, who ended up just hurting you again? No. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Nicole. What was the last thing you printed? Is there even ink in your printer? Something for school, I'm sure. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yeah, my driving instructor in HS. Have you ever been in handcuffs? Why, exactly? Yeah, to be transported from the ER to psych hospitals, as well as handcuffs among other restraints when going to court to explain why I was eligible for an earlier discharge from the hospital. That's one of the scariest experiences of my life, feeling like a bound lunatic. Have you ever had to be put to sleep at a hospital? Why? Yeah, for two surgeries. Do you actually have a calendar on your wall? What are the pictures of? I have two old meerkat ones that are just for decoration. Have you ever been on a cruise? How many? Where did they go? No. Do you have a favorite author? No. Does your significant other boss you around a lot? I don't have one, but I wouldn't tolerate that shit. Do you know anyone who has overdosed? Me, but I obviously lived. I think I've loosely or distantly known people who weren't so lucky. Are you a fan of PDA (public displays of affection)? As long as it's not too intense, I think it's sweet. It's beautiful to see love expressed. When was the last time you went bowling? A few years ago for Girt and my first date. Do you personally know anyone who is transgender? I do. Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages? Yes, for school essays. I think my longest was about toxic masculinity. I'm actually really proud of it; I think my instructor used it as an example for her next semester's students, given that I was notified of an influx of views on it. Do you have any names picked out for your future children? What are they? Hypothetically speaking, if I had a daughter, Alessandra is her name, period, lol. I would like to name my never-happening son Damien, but I'd be more open to suggestions from my partner. Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? Oh yikes, no thank you. Do you have/want any piercings? I have a good number and seriously want more. What side of the bed do you sleep on? More towards the left. Who is the last person you told a secret to? Nicole, about Misty coming down here for a visit. Have you ever been on an island? Yes, just off the NC coast during a 4th grade school vacation. It was amazing and even had wild horses. What's your favorite job you've ever had? I guess GameStop was the best, since I was actually interested in what I worked with. Do you have any vacations planned? No. Do you enjoy getting manicures/pedicures? How often do you get them? I mean it's nice I guess, but it's not something I'd spend money on. Have you yelled at anyone today, and why? No. Do you own anything with your state or providence's name on it? No. Do you like the Paranormal Activity movies? Yeah. Paranormal is my favorite subgenre of horror. What's your favorite way to eat peanut butter? On waffles, haha. Do you like bows? Yeah, they're cute. Have you ever made a 'haul' YouTube video? No. Has a boyfriend ever made you breakfast? Yeah, that was quite ordinary with Jason since his original intention was to be a chef. What do you gather your change in? My wallet. Do you like to play Angry Birds? I never have. The movie was cute, tho. Do you like Cheez-Its? Oh GOD. I looooove Cheez-Its and they need to be kept away from me to avoid bingeing on them. Have you ever been pulled aside for a random bag search at an airport? I don't think so, no. What’s your favorite flavor of Jell-O? Watermelon, I think? Or strawberry? Do you have any games on your computer? Which ones? On my personal laptop, I have World of Warcraft, Alien: Isolation, Resident Evil 6, and both Amnesia games. I think that's it. What's a musical instrument you think sounds really beautiful? Violins. Do you have a favorite type of pasta? (like a shape of noodles, not dish) I'm not particular about this, really. What's the coolest natural event you've ever witnessed? Maybe the blood moon. Are there any waterfalls near where you live? No, just dams. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? I know people who have had smaller works published, but calling them an "author" feels odd since it's not their actual career or anything. Is that rude? Do you own a polaroid camera? No, but that'd be cool. Do you think you’ll ever end up in rehab? No. Who’s your favorite Kardashian sister? I don't have an opinion. Is there someone you absolutely cannot stand but have to tolerate? My sister's husband. "Absolutely cannot stand" might be a bit strong, but... Do you want to go to pregnancy classes? If I was to ever be pregnant, no. My mom would be able to answer all things related to this, haha. Do you ever cringe at the thought of living in a disgusting house? Yes. What color are your bathroom towels? We have a variety. How often do you let cleavage show? I'm not very revealing, but I'm also not self-conscious of allowing some. Does vintage stuff appeal to you? Yes! Where do you want to go? I'd love to visit Sara again, but not so long as Covid hangs around. Have you ever had feelings for two people at the same time? Something like that with Jason and Juan before I chose Jason. I don't even really know if I like-liked Juan versus just being flattered by him. Would you ever throw out or give away something an ex gave you? I mean, what's the item in question? And are we on good terms (not that that would always matter)? What's the biggest annoyance in your life right now? Right now, Covid. I know, surprising I didn't say "not having a job," but so long Covid is an issue, I don't think I would be comfortable having one. I can't bring that shit home to my weak mother. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? Mom. What do you want right this second? To actually be skinny again. It's hard to believe in my teens I thought I wasn't. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? I'm actually quite the opposite... It's sad, I know I'd have less trouble losing weight if I could just stop drinking it regularly. Have you ever been afraid to get up and go to the bathroom? ... No...? Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? I don't believe so, no. Who’d you last see in a tux? Hm. Probably when I shot a wedding. Out of everyone you know, who has the most heart? Uhhhh I dunno. Who’s the bravest person you know? Probably my mom. Who would you want to have your back if things got tough? Again, my mother. Have you ever dated someone who was really sporty? Nah. Are you any good at writing? I think so. What’s your favorite form of writing? I don't know if it counts as a "form" as much as it is a subject, but RP. Writing with characters you yourself have created and actually engaging with other's inventions is very fun. Have you ever done something terrible, but took forever to feel bad? Yes, over things I'd said to Jason following the breakup. It literally took years because I was so convinced it was all justified. What did you dream about last night? I don't remember. Sure feels great though that my nightmares are chilling out. What profession do you admire the most? That's tough, but probably those that put their lives on the line for others, like firefighters. I also have massive respect for people like doctors, given all the time and work they put into their education to become one and help others. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? No. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? Well, seeing as I was an initial homophobe that eventually realized I was bisexualllll... Do you have a garden at your house? No. Do you like making puppet figures with your shadow? When I was a kid, sure. Have you ever played strip poker or would you ever? No, but I won't say absolutely never if I was just with my s/o. It's not something I'm actually interested in doing, though. Would you date someone who didn’t want to have sex until they were married? Yep. Would you date someone who went to church on a regular basis? To be totally honest, I don't know if me and a person that actively religious would work out, but I'd try it, ig. What is your favorite curse word? I say "fuck" way too much lmao. It's an intense word and I'm a passionate person, lol. What movie do you know just about every line from? None. Do you prefer cupcakes or muffins? Cupcakes. What are the three “nevers” of your life? To name just a few that I'm absolutely certain about, I'd never do hard drugs, commit murder (unless in self-defense, but is that even "murder?"), or abuse somebody. Last board game you played? I think it was "Sorry!" when I was babysitting Ryder. Last card game you played? Christ, Uno. My niece went through a phase of like obsessively playing it with me because I would let her win. Last thing you got for free? Christmas gifts. How long have you been tattooed? If you’re not, do you want to get tattooed? I got my first tat the day I turned 18. Last baby shower? My sister's last year. Last wedding? A repeat photography client's. Her family is lovely. Last funeral? I don't think I've been to a funeral (not wake) since I was maybe a preteen and my childhood babysitter died... It's sad that I didn't go to my grandmother's, but I didn't really have that choice. What is your band’s name? Or fantasy band ;)? Haha, my Rock Band one was "Bullets and Butterflies." How many different strip clubs have you been to? None. Do you have any nieces/nephews? Technically a lot, but only three are regular parts of my life. How many cars have you ever owned? Me personally, none. Can you do math in your head well? ABSOLUTELY not. Who is your favorite Star Wars character? I only care about the Ewoks ok. I'm not a fan of the franchise. Have you ever been to a bachelor/bachelorette party? No. Have you ever bailed anyone out of jail? No. Have you ever given someone a fake phone number? No. Do you have any bumper stickers on your car? N/A Have you ever gone golfing? Only mini-golfing as a kid. Well, and on an anniversary date with Jason. Actual golfing doesn't interest me. If you became famous for something, what would it be? To be entirely realistic versus idealistic, probably something I wrote. How many friends do you have that are married? A whole lot. Do you still have your wisdom teeth? Yes. When you were a kid, were you ever afraid of cooties? No, it was just a playful joke. Do you ever go Christmas caroling in December? No. Do you like mango? Mango flavored stuff, oh yes. I don't like actual mangos; they're too mushy. What was the last thing you got falsely accused of? I don't know. Have you ever been kicked out of a store? No. What does caffeine do to you? Nothing, really. I think I'm too accustomed to it being in my system. Would other people describe you as creative? Very. Would you rather paint or carve a pumpkin? Hm, maybe paint. Names of best friends you've had: Brianna, Kimberly, Jenna, Megan, Mini, Sara... I don't remember them all. Were you one of the smartest in your class? Through most of my school experience, yes. Will you let your kids have a YouTube channel, do you think? If I wanted kids, it would depend on their age and what they were making. Have you ever owned a designer purse? No. Do you like the taste of Tums? Taste, yes. Chalky texture, fuck no. I like the chewy ones, though. Are you currently learning a new language? No. What culture are you most interested in learning about? Maybe Indian? Do you own anything skull print? Oh, loads of stuff. Who are the three people you consider yourself closest to? Mom, Sara, and uh... Dad. Do you like crackers with your soup? Soggy crackers are gross. I don't really like soup, anyway. Which ex of yours means the most to you? Sara. What is something that never fails to make you feel accomplished? Cleaning. Do wooded areas freak you out in the evening or night? No, I love 'em. Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle? No, I'm not comfortable with the idea of riding one. Do you iron any of your clothes? No. Do you think long, straight hair is pretty? Yes, if it's healthy. Do you have a fireplace in your home? Yes. Did you have a class pet in grade school? No. Have you ever owned an aquarium? No. Do you prefer mints or gum? I'd say gum. Popsicles or fudgesicles? Ohhh, fudgesicles. What is your favorite flavor of hot pockets? I only even moderately enjoy the ham and cheese ones. Do you like apple juice? Yeah, but there's definitely better juices.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire

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rantshemlock · 5 years ago

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It: Chapter 2

It: Chapter 2 is an almost three hour movie in which just about nothing of value happens

this review contains implied spoilers for the movie! if that bothers you, don’t read ahead.

It (2017) had some incredible setpieces with brilliant monster designs and fantastic practical effects, bolstered by a couple of excellent performances from the show-stealing Finn Wolfhard and Jack Dylan Grazer, along with an outstanding performance by Bill Skarsgard as Pennywise. this, and the simplicity of the plot, make up for the fact that the character writing was often shallow and the dialogue laden with exposition.

It: Chapter 2 has almost all of those qualities, but also one major flaw: it's a bad movie.

there’s a lot to unpack when it comes to why exactly It 2 is such an extreme drop in quality to the first movie; the biggest is the story, which is a mish-mash of new footage of the child actors and the characters as adults, and is probably the biggest pisstake in film history in terms how much of an extreme waste of time it is. for a film to so thoroughly enforce the idea that the characters’ actions are pointless and serve nothing is unbelievable. as a movie that should be a triumphant ending to the saga, we’re given what is explicitly told to us to be pointless.

It 2′s sin is that it doesn’t build up to anything. not storybeats, not relationships, often not even scares. things are laughably obviously telegraphed, even more so than It 2017′s often heavy-handed exposition. the movie wants us to care about the characters because of their past together, but rather than building off the first film’s two hours of story it instead patches in new settings and scenes that no viewer has any attachment to.

“remember the club house? you love the club house!” the film says, showing us to a set we’ve never seen before and have no reason to care about other than it dictates we have to now care about it. the first movie was incredibly well received and is now beloved, it has more than enough emotional moments to build off of, but the film rejects all that in favour of bringing up new ideas, new concepts that hardly get built upon. it demands you care, but doesn’t earn that compassion or attention.

unresolved issues is the name of the game in this movie; characters are constantly shown to have problems, huge, serious problems. Beverly is being abused by her husband, something we’re shown in overly graphic detail. Mike is suffering from untold trauma from standing vigil over Derry for years. Bill is fucking up his movie and his relationship with his wife. Richie is living a lie, deep within the closet. what’s most egregious is not just that these issues don’t get resolved, but that they never get addressed.

we are meant to believe that these characters care about each other, care deeply, have a connection that would drive them to die for each other, but no one notices that Bev is covered with bruises and is desperately avoiding home. no one questions Mike’s erratic, terrified behaviour. Bill forgets his wife exists. as i watched the movie i found myself asking, if Ben loves Beverly so much, why can’t he see her pain?

in the first movie, the characters’ issues were deeply entrenched in their psyche, were part of what Pennywise used to manipulate and attack them. in this movie, they haven’t moved on from their childhood issues and their adult issues are merely tacked on, lip service to the idea that they have grown up but a refusal to actually spend time examining what their issues as adults are. all the characters are suffering in some way, but they never share these things. for all their love and trust, they never developed past their childhood and they never learned how to be adults. their arcs from the first movie are reset completely; their development in that film never happened. for how little that film ties into this one and how much this one wants to retell history with new content, it might as well not have existed at all.

if It: Chapter 2 lacks anything, it’s tact. it’s carelessly violent and shallow, throwing around horrifying concepts and spending no time to flesh them out. while the idea in the book that Pennywise’s presence leads to more violence, abuse and bigotry deserves criticism, this film manages to do an even worse job. what in the book might be questionable and in need of updating becomes uncomfortable and thoughtless in the movie. the gay hate crime at the film is one of the most prominent examples; always a horrifying thing to read in the movie it serves even less purpose, exposes even less about the town, adds nothing, means nothing. goes nowhere.

let’s talk about being gay. let’s talk about Richie.

here’s a fun fact; discounting Nightmare on Elm Street 2 (as painful as it is for me to say this, as someone who fucking adores that movie) It: Chapter 2 is the first horror movie in a big franchise to have a gay hero, unless there’s some information i really badly need to be updated on. making Richie gay was a good move, and i think Richie was the perfect character to pick for it. he’s by far one of the two most likeable characters in the film, the most memorable, gets the best moments and the best lines.

but the conclusion the film gives him, combined with the hate crime earlier in the movie, after he spends the entire film in the closet letting no one know he is suffering, is that he will never be happy. he can’t open up to anyone about what he’s feeling; he never tells any of the others, even Eddie, the character strongly implied to be the love of his life. while Ben and Beverly are given one of the best and most visually striking setpieces of the film to reunite in, there is no such moment for Eddie and Richie. there is no catharsis for either of them.

while making Richie gay was an excellent idea, to try and throw a bone to us starving gays to have someone to cling to, but the ending of the movie left me feeling completely hollow. i did not want my takeaway from his character to be that he is traumatised beyond the point of any healing.

the politics of gay representation in this movie are bad, and so is race.

Stephen King is a writer with a dirty reputation for his habit of using “native americans” as shorthand for something magic and not understandable, and this film manages to not only dig up the few traces of this from the book but also make it worse, turning the ritual of chud (something that the book implied only worked because the characters believed in it and had no tie to native americans) into the act of ignorant, misinformed indigenous people who get not a single line to explain or defend themselves but are only allowed to be set dressing to later be ridiculed and demonised.

Mike, the sole black character of the movie, is served horribly in this film. while in the novel he was one of the most important characters, a thoughtful librarian and historian carefully gathering the history of Derry to research the truth of It’s influence, he was given no screen time in the first movie and in this one is the detested outsider of the group. he is pushed into the position of mentor and guide, rather than friend, and comes across almost like the old stereotype of the magical black character, someone who is only there to provide guidance to the white leads through insight he mysteriously and magically possesses. the film stripped away his position as historian and researcher from the first movie and now scrambles to make up for that, leaving him without the history and characterisation to allow us to understand who and why he is.

on top of this, despite the enormity of his sacrifice to stay in Derry and the clear mental strain it’s put him through -- Isaiah Mustafa gives Mike more depth and thought than anyone else did and brings in his performance layers of subtlety this film doesn’t deserve -- the other characters are mocking and derisive of his attempts, don’t trust him and accuse him repeatedly of lying to and betraying them. these moments go nowhere, also. he is always immediately ‘forgiven’ without any thought as to his own suffering or the continual selflessness of his actions. he’s the thoughtless punchbag to a film in which the character continually martyrs himself for the comfort of others.

he isn’t even given the dignity of being called the leader of the group, despite doing everything for them and coming up with every idea. for some reason, the leader is nominated as Bill, despite James McAvoy’s performance being lackluster to the point of fading into the background entirely and the character of Bill doing next to nothing in the film at all.

but again -- the characters in It are not allowed to care about each other’s pain and suffering outside of a few moments. they come with their mental turmoil and they are either completely cured of it or allowed to remain in it, unmentioned again.

there’s not a bad actor in this -- James Ransone is astonishingly good, pitch-perfectly recreating Jack Dylan Grazer’s every mannerism, Bill Hader is both funny and heart-rendering when needed, Isaiah Mustafa moves mountains to make the script give him some depth, and Bill Skarsgard is again incredible as Pennywise -- but there’s also not an actor who isn’t horribly, horribly maligned by the script. Jessica Chastain, an actress of tremendous power and presence, is given next to nothing to do or say. more thought and care is given to Stephen King’s cameo as a shop owner than the role of Henry Bowers.

the film has its moments. Richie and Eddie are a delight, and the monster design and practical effects are again top of the line. it’s just a painful shame that so much talent and craft, the skills of the incredible artists and designers, the hard work of the enthusiastic and engaged cast and the intricacy of the sets are wasted on a movie that has no direction, no idea where it’s going and no point to make about anything.

also, it’s pretty fucking galling for a movie to continually make jokes about how despised a writer’s endings are only for it to take the far better ending of the book and discard it for something so ridiculous it was a strain not to laugh in the theatre.

It: Chapter 2 has no reason to be as bad as it is, but all the goodwill in the world can’t save a story this fragile, this pointless, and that refuses to engage with any of the subject it brings up to this degree. It wants us to take it very seriously indeed, but there’s nothing here to latch onto; this movie is someone screaming ‘oh the horror’ in a beautiful room filled with set dressings that crumble to ash.

#rantsfilmwatch #my writing #it 2017 #it chapter 2 #justice for richie :(

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pisati · 5 years ago

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I mean, I’m over it.

I don’t even think it was a trigger. I was on the way here if not here already. sometimes it takes me a little bit to pick it apart.

I did have a good day. I felt godawful when I woke up but it helped to get out of my head. charlotte and I went to the mall, bought too many things neither of us needed. cinnabon included. I’m never really a fan of trying on clothes or looking in mirrors but it wasn’t terrible today. I found a sweater I really like, and a nice knit cardigan. and a blue jacket at old navy that was at least $50 full-price but was on sale for $15; it actually looked pretty okay on me. it’s nice to go shopping and not completely hate how I look in things. I do wish I could get over my hair being so thin. I honestly feel like I’d feel better about my body if my hair were just thicker. I’m tired of caring so much about my physical appearance; of feeling so gross and self-conscious all the time that I need to adjust my hair every few seconds. wish it were just as easy as “stop caring”.

we went to bath & body works and I tried another sample of the rose/vanilla lotion in their aromatherapy line; I hadn’t smelled it since I went to get that other rose stuff. I almost wish I’d splurged a little on that one instead though. it was just as nice as I remembered. I kept smelling the back of my hand while we went around the mall. talk about aromatherapy.

I even felt pretty okay after charlotte dropped me off at home. I do think I’ll get myself out of this. but it’s not okay that it’s still happening.

I still want to make music. I feel like I have so much to get out but I just don’t know how. I keep falling back into chords and songs I already know. last time I thought I came up with something cool, I realized two days later that it was echoing Hozier’s In The Woods Somewhere. not the same notes, but the same pattern for sure. I don’t even know all that many chords, just the basic ones. I don’t know how to do much more than that. lessons didn’t help me either. it makes me real sad. it’s discouraging. I have the space for a setup now and I got a table all laid out with my midi keyboard and interface, put my amp and looper pedal next to it, and I have my guitars sitting in their stands. but for now I’m just looking at all of it, like it belongs to someone else.

don’t know why I feel like I have so much more to say. like there’s something I need to get out. I don’t even know what it is. maybe I trained myself this way. feel anything, bad especially, write. I don’t even expect it to resolve; it almost never does. I don’t always have something to say. sometimes I just write to write. there’s always words floating around in my head, and sometimes I just need to get them out, not get a message across.

I prefer living alone. I do. every time I’ve had roommates, even good ones, it’s been stressful for me. some days I just want to be alone and I relish having a space solely of my own to come home to. but other times it’s just too quiet. I feel like I did when I was at school-- this is nothing new to me. I used to sometimes wish my mom would stay at her boyfriend’s so I could have the house to myself, but other times I wanted her to be home. I knew she’d inevitably snap at me for something or another, but I’d still go downstairs to talk to her. I’d still hole myself up in my room, but somehow it was a small comfort to know there was someone else home. now it’s just me.

I thought about it earlier; I wish my mom and I were closer. there’s so much I wish I could talk to her about. if she’d ever been better about mental health and emotions. when I get really anxious she’s the first one I think to call, even though I know in the past she’s gotten mad at me for being unable to stop panicking. I still have that hope that she’s someone I can go to for comfort. this isn’t the first time I’ve wanted this badly to call her over feeling bad. your mother is your first comfort in the world, you should be able to go to her for that at any age. I feel like I’m mothering my own shitty brain and sometimes I just want to be able to go to my own mother and cry on her shoulder and have her hold me and maybe even offer some advice. but she’s got her own issues. I take care of mine.

yesterday would’ve been my dad’s 74th birthday. it hit me probably a bit late, but it hit me nonetheless. looked at that picture at just the wrong time and I was done for. I wish I could call him too. I’m afraid I’m going to forget his voice; I already forgot so many of his stories. he got on every last nerve of mine before he passed but I miss him so much. he’d asked me, one of the last times I saw him, did we deserve this? and I hope he knows he didn’t.

whatever trajectory I thought I had, I feel like I’m losing it again. maybe it’s the seasonal affective. maybe it’s whatever the fuck this is. I’m so tired of being me. I’m only 25 and I’m fucking exhausted. I want so badly to be hopeful. I want to be able to experience the future I think I want, one that I’ll be happy with. but I have so much fear I’ll never get there. and it’s not for lack of trying. I can do everything right, and things can still go wrong. it’s happened before, it’s not unlikely it’ll happen again. I’ve accepted that fact. but if that’s facts... how can I let myself be hopeful?

the rational part of my brain has been tapping its foot for a week at least. are we done with this shit yet? can we maybe stop? when the bad feelings stop, I stop reacting to them. I can make myself stop crying. I can make myself get up and do things. I’ve been picking myself up off the floor, calming myself down, keeping myself distracted, and trying everything I know how to do to feel just numb if not better for years. I can’t make this feeling stop. it stops when it stops.

I’m going to send a message to my psych’s office and ask about therapy. they do have telepsych options as well, and if they want me to do weekly sessions that would be the best option for me. I’ve needed a good therapist for longer than I’m probably aware of. I’ve tried a good number of them and none of them seem to know what to tell me. I swear to god if this one calls me “wise beyond my years” like the last two... while I appreciate the compliment, it’s not helpful. I’m hyperaware of how hyperaware I can be. once I learned to train my critical thinking skills it just made the spiraling worse. I’d like to learn how to stop doing that. how to shut my brain the fuck up. how to not hate being myself in a world I don’t feel like I’m made for. how to take steps forward instead of being too scared of every possible outcome that isn’t good. you know, easy stuff.

---

I don’t know. I’m just tired. don’t know and frankly don’t much care if you even read these dumb posts anymore, gavin, but I’m sorry if you’ve bothered to and sorry if you’re tired of my shit too. I told you I didn’t want to put this all on you; you’ve got your own shit to deal with and I didn’t want you to think it was your fault in any way. don’t quite know what you’re going through, but you don’t need to be pulling me out of this nonsense on top of it. this sure would be one hell of an overreaction to “us being in a relationship is an unrealistic scenario”, especially when I kind of already knew that. sucked to know for real for real, but not that much, lmao. that’s not what started this spiral-- this started well before you and I ever met. more than anything you’ve been helping me reach a point where I’m hopeful I can get out of it and I’m so grateful to have you as a friend. I’m not really sure you feel like you can say the same about me, and I’m sorry for that too. you being so distant lately just feeds the nasty part of my brain that convinces me I drive everyone away. you’re well within your rights to take your space, but I just really hope it’s not because of anything I did. this time of year is reminding me of last winter, when you had a break from work and we’d stayed up all night for a few nights talking about anything and everything. I miss that. and please don’t worry about leading me on; I’m glad to know more definitively where you stand and I respect that. I really do just miss your company, whether you’re feeling good or bad or whatever. that’s, you know, the whole thing with friends. I know you isolate, and I guess there’s not much I can do about that. just know I’m still here. I’ve still got a hand out, if you’d like to take it. and that’s okay if not; it’s there anyway.

#meh

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pass-the-bechdel · 6 years ago

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Marvel Cinematic Universe: Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

No.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

One (7.69% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Twelve.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

Excellent! Full of as much heart as action, the film takes on the complicated task of delivering a Captain America for the modern world, avoiding jingoism while also acknowledging the origins which brought the comic-book hero into being. Against the odds (and my personal expectations), it is a sound success, and I consider it easily the best of the Marvel franchise’s early films.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Obviously, that didn’t happen.

Female characters:

Peggy Carter.

Male characters:

Johann Schmidt.

Steve Rogers.

James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

Howard Stark.

Abraham Erskine.

Arnim Zola.

Gilmore Hodge.

Chester Phillips.

Brandt.

Fred Clemson.

Timothy Dugan.

Nick Fury.

OTHER NOTES:

I’m mad about the Hydra symbol being the coolest insignia in this franchise. I would wear the heck outta some Hydra merchandise, if it weren’t for the, y’know, evil Nazi fascism stuff.

I love little Steve. They pulled that off so well.

I don’t love that Peggy’s introduction revolves around her being disrespected by a guy and then knocking him on his ass. It feels far too prescribed, too Strong Woman Cliche, so expected as to be rendered essentially meaningless. It implies that these are the most important things about the character - she’s a woman and she’s tough - and it panders to the sexist perspective by requiring Peggy to ‘prove herself’ upon arrival in a traditionally-masculinised way. They could have handled this introduction much better.

Man. This movie has such a good cast. The goodness of this cast has no chill.

“So many people forget that the first country that the Nazis invaded was their own.” This the good shit.

“Go get him! I can swim.” Snort.

Sometimes, when I can’t sleep, ‘Star Spangled Man’ plays over and over again in my head. That’s probably why I can’t sleep.

“Do you...fondue?”

The thing where someone gets hit and they fly off-screen in an exaggerated fashion is never not funny to me.

Characters surviving explosions without a scratch, however, is never not rubbish to me.

A super-soldier is never late, Peggy Carter, nor is he early; he arrives precisely when he means to.

Steve really isn’t very precious about choosing his team: they’re all just Bucky’s friends. He basically just went “ok, show of hands, who loves Bucky Barnes? Good, you guys are with me”. I mean, it’s solid reasoning - he trusts Bucky, and these guys have Bucky’s endorsement, and that’s good enough for Steve. I note that only one of the other guys on the team besides Steve and Bucky is a white American - the other guys are a black American and an Asian-American (and I see you there, recognition of racism against Japanese-Americans which led to their incarceration during the war, etc.), and then there’s a French dude and a Brit. That’s Captain America’s elite team: not all-American, and racially inclusive. I DIG that subtext.

*hisses* why is this whole Natalie-Dormer-mackin’-on-Steve thing even here? It’s a useless contrivance, plus I am extremely displeased at having Peggy being so petty in her jealousy that she actually fires a loaded gun straight at Steve. I sure hope she heard Howard’s explanation about the properties of the vibranium shield, or that she already knew them, because otherwise this is completely outrageous, but even then: what if the shield hadn’t performed as advertised? What if a bullet ricocheted and hit someone else? This is such a dangerous thing to do, and did I mention it is in service of a useless contrivance anyway? Peggy deserves better writing.

Lemme tell ya straight up: I thought I was gonna hate this movie. I mean...it’s Captain America. I expected cloying patriotism, a blandly self-righteous hero, probably some good ol’ war glorification as well. What we got instead was a film that barely even mentioned the good ol’ USA outside of the (explicitly recognised as) propaganda rigmarole that Captain America slogs through - a tool used to excellent effect to acknowledge the character’s history (the comic was created as propaganda during WWII in real life) while also carrying through the idea that what Captain America stands for is something far grander than nationalist fervour - and Steve himself is imbued with unassuming charm, fueled by the strength of his personal convictions but never forcing those convictions upon others in a show of moral grand-standing: an essential facet of the character is that he’ll pursue what he believes to be right regardless of whether anyone else follows him, and he accepts that there are consequences to his actions; he never props himself up with holier-than-thou declarations, he never shames anyone for disagreeing with him, and he never claims any kind of superiority over others (an important distinction when you’re juxtaposed with a Nazi Ubermensch villain). Other characters are inspired by Steve, but the film wisely never positions them as if they were weak or wavering without the symbol of Captain America to unite them: the war is a grindhouse, and they know the only way out is through. No one is fighting because they perceive battle as a great and noble cause, nor because they are righteously empowered; they fight because their enemy is too terrible to let pass, and there is no room for glory in that.

I can (and will) still quibble about the representation of war in the film: while the fact that it is sparingly shown does help to avoid the glorification of violence and death in battle, it also undersells the horror of war, which runs the risk of looping back around to glorification by making it all into fun skirmishes with faceless goons and glow-weapons. Additionally, Captain America clashes exclusively with Hydra and its operatives; while Red Skull severs his ties with Hitler early on through the welcome disintegration of a few Nazi representatives, the film cannot entirely distance itself from Hitler’s legacy (which Red Skull actively takes on for himself), and I take long-standing issue with anything which uses Nazis as an evil catch-all but fails to acknowledge and respect the victims of their reign. After Steve’s heroic nose-dive in the Valkyrie ends Hydra’s campaign, the film cuts to celebrations of the end of the war; they don’t actually state that it was Captain America who just defeated the Nazis by taking down Red Skull (despite the fact that Hydra’s soldiers with their fancy tech and also, um, actual-Hitler and his armies, are all still out there), but the implication is there, and it feels a mite bit insensitive, to say the least. I do think it is better that Steve has his own corner of the war to fight, rather than taking on the whole thing and battling actual-Hitler in the end (now THAT would be insensitive), but I do wish that the destruction and evil of the war at large were the backdrop of the film, rather than the comparatively sanitised Hydra operation that we see.

In this context, the weight of the war and the toll that it takes on the psyche of those suffering through it is carried almost exclusively by Bucky Barnes, who emerges from the unseen tortures of a Hydra work camp changed, his buoyant enthusiasm from the beginning of the film subdued, locked up behind the shattered look in his eyes and the fragile way he carries himself, determined to see this thing through to the end so that he can fall apart later, if he makes it that far (he doesn’t). Fandom has made much of Sebastian Stan’s understated performance, and with good reason: despite a minimal number of scenes there is a richness of detail in Bucky’s character, and as the emotional sinking ground for tragedy - both as the personification of the war’s devastation, and as a personal loss for Steve Rogers - Bucky’s narrative importance belies the amount of time dedicated to him in-text. Fandom has also made a strong point - with which I agree entirely and for which I will not pretend to take unique credit for noticing - that despite expectation, Bucky’s archetypal function in the film is not as the Hero’s Sidekick; he is, in actuality, fulfilling the cliche of the Love Interest, not in competition with Peggy Carter but instead of; Peggy, likewise, is not an archetypal Love Interest at all, because she’s the Hero’s Sidekick.

I am entirely of the opinion that this is an essential part of what makes Peggy - the sole named female character in town - work out so well, against the odds. As Steve’s sidekick, Peggy’s primary functions are to support him and give him advice; the sidekick is traditionally a rational role, someone who keeps the hero grounded and helps them to make the right choices, especially when they are emotionally conflicted. The Love Interest compels the hero’s emotions, sometimes (often) framed as driving them to acts of recklessness, to joyous heights, and depressive lows. Bucky is Steve’s damsel in distress; Steve is compelled to act when he learns that Bucky has been captured by the enemy, action which is tempered and assisted by Peggy’s influence and which ultimately brings Captain America out of propaganda mode to practice what he has preached, and be the soldier Steve always hoped to be. When Bucky falls, Peggy is there to talk to Steve, as a friend, and help him stop wallowing and concentrate his grief into the resolve which carries him through the climactic confrontations of the film’s final act. I’m not going to argue that Steve wanted to join the army just to be with Bucky (presumably that was a factor to some extent, but to call it the primary motivator would be to ignore the value set which made Steve into Captain America in the first place), nor that he was willing to sacrifice himself in the end because Bucky was gone (Steve’s mourning for Bucky certainly played a role in his mental state at the time, but ultimately, bringing down the Valkyrie was a practical choice, not an emotional one), but undeniably, Bucky was either integrally or tangentially attached to all of Steve’s major decisions across the film, as is common for a Love Interest, whereas Peggy consistently filled a support-and-guidance role, as any good sidekick should.

This is not to imply, by any measure, that Peggy can’t or shouldn’t be seen as a viable (lower case) love interest (or that Bucky’s time as a hero’s sidekick somehow doesn’t count as what it is); actually, I think that both character’s relationships with Steve benefit from being framed in this switched fashion. Bucky’s lifelong friendship with Steve comes across stronger and more meaningful due to the emotional pitch, allowing it to resonate as something deeply significant to Steve despite the limited exposure we have to it in action - extra important considering that Bucky is also fulfilling that sacrificial-character role. For Peggy, the fact that she is presented as a love interest but coded as a Hero’s Sidekick is even more important in its effect: since she is the only woman around, we have been taught by approximately All Media Ever to perceive her as the Love Interest from the second she steps on screen, and with that perception we are also encouraged to devalue her character as essentially existing for no other purpose than to be an attractive female prize for the Manly Male Hero to win by story’s end. By reinforcing Peggy as a friend to Steve, we subvert the expectation that she has no real function and/or that her personality is irrelevant, because narrative coding has taught us that sidekicks (almost exclusively male) matter, they have things to say and their influence on the hero is meaningful. Whether they are stalwart sidekicks, or bumbling fools, comedic, or secretly-insidious, a sidekick should be noted, because they’re a lot more likely to have something plot-relevant going on than a boring old Love Interest. Being presented as a helpful, sympathetic presence in Steve’s life who also Has Her Own Shit Going On allows Peggy to meet Steve on more even ground, and her interactions with him are not built around being romantically or sexually available: by having a working relationship built on a foundation of understanding friendship rather than attractive chemistry, the development of feelings between the characters comes across more as extraneous and organic, rather than a prescribed cliche. It still is a prescribed cliche, but it’s not one that compels Steve to do dumb stuff or that undermines Peggy’s relevance as a person in her own right, and that makes it a much more palatable romance than what we usually get.

This is also why that idiotic ~jealousy~ contrivance I flagged earlier is so out of place - I mean, it’s out of place because it’s idiotic, it has no impact on the story in any way and its an insult to the characters and I don’t know why it exists or why they kept it in the final cut of the film because it’s asinine rubbish, but it’s also out of place because it approaches Peggy as a Love Interest, scorned and emotionally lashing out, an attempt to generate Love Interest drama where it has no place in the movie, for the characters as the people that they are, with the established dynamic that they have, or in the context of their situation. Throwing a misunderstanding and some hurt feelings on top of a relationship which has worked refreshingly well thus far because of the honest and open conversations the characters have shared is utterly tone-deaf, and it’s one black mark on what is otherwise a shockingly strong and tonally-consistent film. She may be all alone in the movie, but I will happily argue that Peggy is the best, most-rounded female character in the MCU at this early stage, and she’s playing across from an eminently worthy leading man in Chris Evans’ charmingly-sincere Steve Rogers. The supporting cast is there - Seb Stan, of course, but also Stanley Tucci! Tommy Lee Jones! HUGO WEAVING! - being wonderful and engaging across the board, and there are no weak links (except Natalie Dormer, but that’s not her fault, and at least the misstep is brief and POINTLESS so that it doesn’t taint the rest of the film). Captain America: The First Avenger may not be absolutely perfect - nothing is - but it is a great ride, sometimes surprisingly nuanced, sometimes intriguingly subversive even while it plays straight with the expectations of its genre. I went into my first viewing of the film just hoping it wouldn’t make me mad, and I gotta tell ya: I ain’t mad at all. As far as I’m concerned, this is the platonic ideal of superhero films.

#Captain America: The First Avenger #MCU #Marvel Cinematic Universe #Bechdel Test #female representation

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toycarousel · 7 years ago

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Is it weird that when I come to a really hard part in my life and I keep thinking about asking you? I think once a year i've been in your ask box trying to get advice. My partner is severely depressed to the point where he seriously talks about killing himself nearly every other day. Its been almost a year and its just getting harder and harder to handle emotionally. He's terrified of being put in a psych ward from pas experience. I don't know what to do. I love him and he needs me but it hurts.

Hi, Anon! I don’t think it’s weird at all, not to worry~! It’s perfectly fine to ask me for help, and to talk to me whenever you want to! I just can’t give, like professional answers (since I’m not a professional) and I just offer advice/help casually when I’m able to, which can often be reeeeeeally delayed, especially when I’m off my meds and such – executive dysfunction is a huge problem for me, so during emergency events, definitely contact a distress centre before talking to me, as I won’t be able to get to time-sensitive asks promptly, and I certainly don’t want you to be stuck waiting for me! :’O

That being said, I am always open to sharing my perspective, any resources I can find, and basically any help I can potentially offer, so it’s always okay to message me – sending multiple asks is totally fine too – if you want to hear my take on things!

Wrt what you’ve shared with me here, I want you to know that it’s okay to be open about the pain that you’re going through as well, and to reach out to people for help! I know there’s a lot of pressure on folks to, like, forego their own health and safety when a loved one is struggling, but that’s never something that you have to do – in fact, if you take care of yourself, seek help when you need it, and ask for the same support that you’ve been giving your loved one, you’ll end up being more effective in changing their life (as well as your own) for the better. Too often, we feel like it’s our sole responsibility to find a solution to our loved ones’ incredibly serious emotional distress… but few of us are professionals in these areas, and even if we were, it’s terrifying and difficult to know what to do when someone very close to you is the one suffering.

It’s very hard, and very painful to see someone we love going through so much… and you’re not doing anything wrong by seeking to regulate the pain that you’re experiencing too, as a result! So I’m going to share some resources that are specifically for you, so you can find support for what you’re feeling and for coping and making decisions based on how this situation has affected you! Depending on what happens, you may end up having to make a truly hard choice. It’s not healthy to stay with someone who doesn’t want to make changes to their life, while simultaneously causing you harm. But I also know that it’s awful to feel like, if you need to take time for yourself, away from the person and the situation, that you could be responsible for anything bad happening.

You’re not responsible for someone else’s personal health – it’s important to support loved ones, and to do what you can for them, but sometimes there’s just. A limit to how much we can actually do, you know? The other person needs to meet you halfway, and aim to care for themselves as well, even if they really, really don’t feel like it.

When I started DBT, I was doing it for my mother, my brother, my brother’s partner at the time, and my big sister. Basically, I was doing it for all the people around me, neglecting myself entirely, and because of that, it wasn’t working long-term. It did, however, get me to take that first step and seek help when I didn’t feel I deserved it (and therefore wouldn’t have done it otherwise at that point in my life, in my own self-hatred), because I didn’t want to hurt others, but the therapy itself only started solidifying in my mind and truly working once I made the conscious desire to find reasons to live for myself – once I decided (and it oftentimes has to be a constant choice), to hold onto the life I have. To build that life into something I could care about, instead of writing it – and myself – off entirely.

I know this is probably, like, the last thing you’d want to do, especially since your boyfriend has had awful experiences with psych wards, and ppl can often end up in a psych ward when this is done – but you may have to call for help for your boyfriend (if an emergency situation occurs, and you’re afraid he may take his life).

All lives are worth saving, and your boyfriend deserves a chance at life, which is something he would no longer have if he committed suicide. That’s just my perspective, though. I’ve been in a place where I did have to call the police on someone that I knew would hate me for it, and I’ve been in a place where the cops have been called on me and I hated the caller for it. You don’t necessarily have to call the police, specifically, btw; calling an ambulance is often just as effective, and possibly even better, because they’ll have life-sustaining equipment and a proper vehicle on them if your loved one has already done something that compromises their physical safety…

Remember though, I’m not a professional – it’s good to call ppl who are trained to know what to do in this situation (like a crisis centre) to ask them what steps you should take if an emergency like this occurs! I’ll link them below, along with the other resources for you, Anon! I’m worried for you, and I want you to be safe, and healthy, and regain some peace in life~

For you:

https://www.beyondblue.org.au/the-facts/supporting-someone/looking-after-yourself (this link is out of Australia, so the crisis lines here won’t necessarily be applicable, but the site itself – and this page specifically – goes through some steps as to how to look after yourself when you’re supporting someone else with depression).

https://www.theguardian.com/society/2017/jul/10/how-to-support-a-depressed-partner-while-maintaining-your-own-mental-health (this article is about spouses, and has a mixture of suggestions for maintaining your own health, but there are a couple important ones here – I personally think the paragraph “Don’t stop doing the things you love,” is crucial).

https://www.habitsforwellbeing.com/22-ways-practice-emotional-self-care-letting-go/ (emotional self-care tips~!)

http://www.upworthy.com/101-self-care-suggestions-for-when-it-all-feels-like-too-much (more psychological and emotional self-care suggestions – I feel like these ones are especially down to Earth, which is great!)

https://www.lessonsforlove.com/blog/taking-care-of-yourself/651-taking-care-of-yourself-emotionally (more emotional/psychological self-care tips, with a couple specified ideas that could be helpful~!)

https://teenhealthcare.org/blog/6-ways-to-take-care-of-yourself-on-social-media/ (I don’t know what your age is, or whether taking care of yourself on social media would help with your specific situation, but I thought I’d include this just as, like, something supplementary if your primary communication with support systems ends up having to be online, you know? A whole lot of mine are, and these are things I often have to remind myself of :’)

For both you and your boyfriend:

https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/helping-someone-else/supporting-someone-who-feels-suicidal/how-to-help/#.WwRuktMvx-U (this site is out of the UK, so the crisis numbers here might not be relevant to where you live, but the site itself has some suggestions as to what you can do for someone who is suicidal).

https://www.helpguide.org/articles/suicide-prevention/suicide-prevention.htm

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/ruby-fremon/depression-spouse_b_7557410.html (this is in reference to a spouse, but in reading it, I suspect it would be applicable to any close relationship!)

https://www.beyondblue.org.au/get-support/online-forums/supporting-family-and-friends-with-a-mental-health-condition-(carers)/need-advice-to-cope-with-depressed-partner (more tips on maintaining a healthy relationship with someone who is depressed/suicidal).

http://codedredalert.tumblr.com/post/109005732295/helpline-masterlist (helpline masterpost for a wide variety of struggles!)

http://myresourcemasterlist.tumblr.com/suicide (more resources, including ones for suicide, and coping with your own intense/distressing emotions).

Wrt your boyfriend specifically, again, it’s totally understandable that he’s afraid to be placed in a psych ward, like, I personally get that (I’ve had nasty past experiences with those as well). There are other ways to seek treatment though, like, through outpatient (but intensive) programs. I have no idea what the options are where you two live, but I can dig up any resources online that I find that may be relevant, as well as anonymous crisis hotlines/chatlines, and self-help and self-soothing resources! They’re not a permanent measure, and unless a genuine effort is put into them, they should mainly be used by him to help make himself feel better in the moment. Hopefully they can also give him some tools to start working with as it pertains to regaining the parts of his life (and life itself) that he’s lost interest in.

I’ll be linking a couple DBT skills specifically for the latter there. While DBT skills are used more for people with BPD, the particular skills I’m linking are applicable to basically everyone – and especially people who are suicidal, depressed, and who want to build a life worth living. Because I understand why people become suicidal (and up until recently, I was suicidal myself), and sometimes, especially depending on a person’s external circumstances (circumstances that are often completely outside of their control) it can feel like life has gotten so bad that it’s unsalvageable. What I’ve found is that there is always something – even the tiniest thing – that is worth salvaging. And from that tiny place, a person can spark an entire life, building on every small good thing until they can see that there really is a life out there, waiting for them. They built it themselves.

For your boyfriend:

https://www.dbtselfhelp.com/html/emotion_regulation1.html (these are some very straightforward worksheets for emotion regulation skills – they do essentially what they sound like they would, and they’re long-term skills that can become 2nd nature through practice~! It just makes handling all the painful emotions in life that we don’t always know how to pull ourselves out of).

http://www.anythingtostopthepain.com/dbt-skill-of-the-day-improve-the-moment-from-the-distress-tolerance-module/ (this is for distress tolerance – it’s the ‘IMPROVE’ skills specifically. Not every part of the acronym will be applicable, but a few might help when it’s just an especially terrible day/night…)

https://www.mindfulnessmuse.com/dialectical-behavior-therapy/improve-the-moment-with-emotion-regulation-strategies (this explains the ‘IMPROVE’ skills in more detail).

https://www.7cups.com/forum/BorderlinePersonalityDisorderSupportCommunity_81/DBTSkilloftheWeek_1304/DBTSkilloftheWeekIMPROVEthemoment_76695/ (the ‘IMPROVE’ skills again, with specific suggestions as to practicing the skill! 7cups also offers free online chat-based help, so it can be a great place to vent, and potentially gather external resources!)

https://www.dbtselfhelp.com/html/using_self_soothe.html (crisis survival skills! These are especially important for incredibly bad moments – for when a crisis occurs and a person needs to be able to step back from particularly rough events/triggers that can really make it difficult to refrain from harming oneself in any way!!! I included this link because it looks like it has a few videos, which may be nicer than all this reading!)

http://creativityintherapy.com/2016/05/create-a-sensory-self-soothing-kit/ (how to create a self-soothing kit – this link could be helpful for you as well, Anon~!)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBopCkdBwsk (I really, really think this video could be helpful. The speaker explains why these skills are used, and how to create plans/backup plans based on these skills. It’s about building the life you want, but also acknowledging how much pain you’ve been through, and how to healthily ‘Distract’ oneself during a crisis!!!)

So, I know that was a LOT to read~!!!! I hope that some of these resources and perspectives can be helpful. And Anon, I just want to reiterate that I believe you’re a good person, and a good partner! You clearly care about your boyfriend deeply. Needing to have time for yourself, and taking care of yourself are not things that make a person selfish – they strengthen you, and you deserve happiness and peace in life~

#relationships #advice asks #suicide #depression #suicidal ideation #self care #therapy #mental health resources #dbt skills #dbt resources #distress tolerance #emotion regulation #institutionalization mention -#anons #scotchasks

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irondevilpunisher · 7 years ago

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My Jessica Jones S1&S2 Review

*Some Spoilers*

Well here it is, the post you might’ve been waiting for. Sorry it took so long to do this as I had so many other priorities in my life that needed my attention. But I’m here now and I’m ready to discuss my personal thoughts and opinions on Jessica Jones. To start off I wanna say honestly that I had originally no intention to watch this show. Its not that I thought it would be bad but that it didn’t really appeal to me. I have to like the idea and the characters to get behind something. However when the Defenders dropped in August of last year I had to admit my curiosity on the Jessica Jones peeked a little. I could tell there was a whole lot more to the character than hard-drinking and a give em’ hell attitude. Plus being a huge fan of the Daredevil Netflix show I felt I had to check it out.

For the most part my assumptions proved to be correct. I dove right into Jessica Jones’s freshman series right after finishing The Punisher and surprisingly quite enjoyed it. Now let me say first so there’s no mistaking my differentiated feelings on the two separate seasons how f**king brilliant Krysten Ritter is in this role. She brings such a delightful spunk, relatable complexity and strength yet vulnerability to the character that is so rarely seen these days. Jones is more than just another super-being, actually that was probably what made the show so unique. And she kicks a lot of ass. Opposite to what was done on Daredevil, the writers actually treated Jessica’s abilities secondary to her as a person while remaining more focused on her position as this edgy, tough-as-nails private eye. Off topic I’m a sucker for a good old fashioned detective story; Sherlock Holmes, Nancy Drew, Bogart in Casablanca. Can’t go wrong there.

So the basic premise of Jessica Jones is the story of a 30-something woman running from a dark past; living in New York as a self-employed sleuth. By she day nurses her demons with alcohol [which this show doesn’t glorify unlike Defenders] and random companionship, by night Jessica boldly prowls the city streets searching for the latest cheating husband or wife. Her closest friends/allies are her adopted sister Trish Walker, Geri Hogarth [the female lawyer seen in Daredevil and Iron First who currently works with Foggy Nelson], Luke Cage [a man also with abilities who works at a bar and is a Defender] and Malcolm Ducasse [a former addict/neighbor who lives her in building]. But I have to say though my favorite relationship of all those would have to be Jessica and her trusty camera. Anyway what starts as a typical day at the office for Miss Jones in the first episode quickly shifts into a relentless nightmare involving a specific demon she just can’t seem to escape.

Going back to Jones’s character what I love most about her is she’s not one-note; there are dimensions and layers to her personality and background. Jessica is so much more than just her jaded quirks, attractive looks and impeccable super strength; she’s got a softer side if you can believe it. She can be feisty and sh*t-talking one minute then kind, funny and compassionate the next. There are moments where she thinks of others before herself; case in point sticking up for Ruben [one of her abused neighbors], saving a little girl from a coming car while dressed as a sandwich [one of my favorite Jessica moments] and helping Malcolm detox from his drug habit. Her supposed care-less attitude ironically is her way of caring in a different way. I adore her saucy sarcastic sense of humor which would easily come across as just plain bitchy or cold if it not for how Krysten delivers it onscreen. Its not mean but not entirely nice either yet is actually part of what makes her so endearing. I won’t go into full detail of her development but lets just say that cliffhanger in S1 really left you wanting more of this character.

The supporting characters are fine and do well to compliment the hero however I wouldn’t say they’re as compelling to the ones on Daredevil, Iron Fist or Punisher. I did like Trish, she has a nice dynamic with Jessica and the writers do give their relationship an even focus in both seasons of the show. Malcolm is also great when he’s helping Jones in the office during season 1. And some of the other S1 building tenants are humorous and quirky. I did like Geri’s character in Daredevil, Defenders and Iron Fist; was stunned when I found out she was a main player in JJ and couldn’t wait to see what they do with her because Carrie-Anne Moss is so excellent. But when it came to actually seeing her story I found myself disappointed. I just couldn’t connect with her. Idk I guess I found found Hogarth even colder and unlikable on Jessica Jones compared to when I saw her assorted appearances on the other MCU shows. I know they tried to do a darker in-depth storyline with her in S2 but it just wasn’t executed proficiently. If there had been a proper build up towards it in S1 I might’ve gotten behind what the writers were doing but that’s just one of many mistakes in S2.

Unpopular opinion: I wasn’t the biggest fan of Luke Cage in this series. I just didn’t find him that appealing as a character or cared about his relationship with Jessica. He fairs much better on his solo series and in Defenders. But I didn’t feel the chemistry between him and Jones nor did I care about their comic canon status. In fact I found their scenes dragging and boring. While Jessica clearly had an unhealthy thing going on with Kilgrave its no more toxic than what she has with Cage. Its completely based on sex for the sole fact that the two characters have psychological issues and both have supernatural abilities. There is also deception between them. Not to mention the fact that these two are connected by a certain tragedy which is a whole other reason why they would never work or function properly as a couple. Jones and Cage are far better off remaining friends/allies in my opinion.

Moving on..

The major highlight of this series would have to be the show’s unstoppable villain and personally my favorite character in the series Kilgrave aka The Purple Man; magnificently hemmed by the ever so charismatic, acting powerhouse Doctor Who’s David Tennant. I never imagined another MCU Netflix villain coming close to what Wilson Fisk did on Daredevil but that’s exactly what Kilgrave manages to do so effortlessly on Jessica Jones. Tennant doesn’t play this character just strictly as a typical ‘bad guy’ or homicidal mind-controlling fiend; he has motivations, complexities and layers that mirror Ritter’s conflicted protagonist. As the episodes go on you actually start to feel for Kilgrave’s injustices and understand his extreme methods even when harming the innocent. His scenes with Jones are some of the most superb acting I’ve seen from both David and Krysten. They have exceptional chemistry together and play off one another so seamlessly. Their back and forth cat and mouse themed dynamic is actually the most entertaining part of this show. Seriously I could gush on for days about why I love Kilgrave.

Tennant commands the screen so powerfully; he’s just a total scene stealer as this character that in a way overshadows most of the supporting cast. He’s that larger than life. I gravitated to him so easily. What he does with Kilgrave is nothing short of fantastic to say the least. He could be scary, funny, classy, charming, emotional and deep without it ever muddling the character which is not an easy feat. I mean there’s just so much ground to cover with Kilgrave, endless story potential. While watching S1 I couldn’t wait for the writers to dabble further into his twisted childhood/dark past and tortured psyche. I mean if you get past the whole killing and rape aspect of him, Kilgrave isn’t all that horrible of a person. And while his infatuation with Jessica maybe borderline obsessive and abusive, he really does love her and demonstrates it. Sick as that sounds this guy just wants to be loved. He would go to ends of the earth for Jones it’s almost tragically poetic. Not more so than what the writers decide to actually do with him in the S1 finale unfortunately. But I won’t spoil that.

My second favorite character and probably the most underrated on Jessica Jones would have to be the young police sergeant Will Simpson aka future Nuke. Not many people remember or probably care too much about him since his appearance into the show doesn’t happen until 1x04. And if you don’t pay enough attention to this character he could become forgettable. But its not the fault of the actor per-say but rather the writing as well as the directing. Wil Traval is insanely adorable and a hot as hell blond babe but don’t let that distract from the fact that he’s got some major acting chops under his belt. And luckily for Traval I did notice his character right away. When Simpson enters the scene its not exactly puppies and kittens; he’s a ruthless Kilgrave drone sent to assassinate Trish which is fortunately prevented by Jessica. And after he’s freed from Kilgrave’s mind-control he reluctantly joins forces with Jones to take him down indefinitely. Thing I love most about Simpson is his integrity in the beginning; he tries to do the right thing and be a good person even if it means crossing the line to achieve that goal.

He doesn’t always make the smartest or safest decisions but he does his best. Simpson has mystery, another quality I highly praise in a character. I spent most of my time wondering about the guy and wanting more of his background; especially when it was revealed he had ties to IGH. Simpson is so unpredictable with his shift in moods it was hard to read him but that’s what made him interesting. Another thing I love most about Simpson is his complicated alliance with Jessica Jones. For me its the second most entertaining part about watching the series. Ritter and Traval have sensational onscreen chemistry together its ridiculous how underused it is. I know most people probably preferred his relationship with Trish as well as probably shipped Jessica/Luke at this time but for me I just didn’t see enough story built there to care about either of those couples. I get weak in the knees when it comes to hilarious witty banter which Simpson and Jessica have in spades. Through IGH they had a connection with one another. There were times watching the episodes where I felt the writers were building a specific story between Jones and Simpson; whether it was a potential romance or future hero/nemesis arc I couldn’t wait to find out. Too bad that potential gets flushed down the toilet in S2.

Before I get into what I hated about season 2 because I did [all of it]; I need to address the show’s most intriguing elements of season 1. I loved its stylish Noir atmosphere; even the opening theme song is terrific [have it on my Spoitfy list]. The costumes, the settings and locations. From the lighting to the way the show is shot is so creative. Even the entire score is amazing. The pacing is nice. The action and special effects are pretty decent. I get the sense that I’m watching a cross between a Murder She Wrote and Sherlock Holmes hybrid. It just has this seductive pull of mystery and excitement. This show is not like Daredevil, Iron Fist, Luke Cage or Punisher but it does feel very much in the same universe. As I said the superhero aspect of it is more or less a secondary plot point but its refreshing and different. Not to say Jessica Jones doesn’t have its flaws as a series it does. I really wish some of the relationships had more time to blossom in S1 as well as S2. There was so much opportunity for the JJ writers to explore certain characters during its sophomore year unfortunately that wasn’t to be the case. Which brings me to the dud that is Jessica Jones season 2.

I won’t go into a whole thorough rant about what was awful about the second helping of Jones’s adventures but let me just say what they did in S1 they completely obliterated and ignored in S2 [including the characters]. I’m not kidding and I won’t lie about it either. I couldn’t wait to watch S2 because I thought S1 was just so fantastic. I wanted to see more of Jessica’s backstory, IGH, Will Simpson’s character growth and early stages of his Nuke persona, if Kilgrave was really coming back, Trish’s possible Hellcat transformation. I was excited for all this and more. But that’s not what happened. Apart from each of the characters being horribly butchered by the writers, especially Jessica Jones herself, the writing was crap; the Noir feel is just gone, its full of stupid PSA plots and the pacing is just a dragging snooze fest. And those sad super-running special effects would make the Flash sob waterfalls. Did they get rid of all the talent behind season 1 like what is going on? I could hardly keep my eyes open for some of the things that were happening. Actually what did happen because nothing made sense or I just didn’t care enough to make sense of it.

The impression I got from the JJ writers was like “to hell with it we’re doing whatever we want.” Everything about S2 was abysmal and disappointing. Zero structure and cohesiveness in storytelling. I can’t recall a single moment I enjoyed most about this season [maybe Kilgrave’s minor cameo].Trish became so unlikable to the point where I was nearly pulling my hair out and wanted her written off. Seriously I couldn’t stand her and I still don’t know how I feel about her after that finale. She wasn’t my favorite person to begin with but S2 solidified my distaste for her. Jessica my sweet Jessica where did you go because I didn’t see you any where in this season at all. The only thing I saw was your evil clone running around. Seriously though the development they did for Jones was just plain bad. Her character flip-flops more more times than the actual footwear my brain is still in knots. Too many lines were crossed with her she’s giving the Punisher a run for his money and not in a good way. I just don’t see any redemption for Jessica after this...none whatsoever. Its disheartening to say this because these writers took what I loved about Jones in the first year and threw it in a blender.

The new characters were boring and uninteresting; ugh I’d rather watch paint drying than another scene between Jessica and that random dude the writers threw at her as a love interest. The main villain was just atrocious, predicable and made no freaking sense. WTF did they do to Malcolm?? And don’t even get me started on what was done to Simpson. I’ve been angry about it for weeks and honestly after watching S2 the wounds have not healed. Still not over it. Maybe they’ll surprise me with Simpson but I don’t have hope for that. I’m still shaking with anger as I write this thinking how much potential he had on this series and it was for nothing. Like most shows these days another character is thrown into the scrap heap before their time. What was the point of him being introduced if they weren’t going to dabble further into his Nuke comic history? I just refuse to stop b**ching about it because its so infuriating.

Overall the Jessica Jones series for me is only partially solid. Is it my favorite MCU Netflix original series? Not by a long shot but I do think it’ll have a loyal following. I loved the first season it was edgy and smart but I hated the second season. I don’t know if season 3 will be any better after that waste of 13 hours I’ll never get back but who knows. There wasn’t much of a cliffhanger in S2 for me to even care about the next installment. Sounds harsh I know because I do love Krysten Ritter in this role. I think she carries herself masterfully. I just don’t feel S2 did her or her character any justice; if anything it hurt the future of Jessica Jones as a series for me. But that’s just my opinion.

Anyway don’t take my word for it watch the show and make your own conclusions. This has been my quick review of Jessica Jones ;)

#Jessica Jones #Krysten Ritter #Will Simpson #kilgrave #david tennant #wil traval #jessica x simpson #jessica x kilgrave #jessica jones season 1 #jessica jones season 2 #anti trish walker #anti jessica jones writers #anti luke cage #geri hogarth #Marvel's Jessica Jones #malcolm ducasse #jessica jones review #nuke

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bigmoneygator · 8 years ago

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Gonna talk about some things! That have been bothering me! Without need or hope for anyone to reply because I feel like I'm bothering everyone with how much I've been talking about it lately!!!!!!! I love golden age cinema. No, I haven't watched most of the movies in the 'canon', but the stories behind them are what get me. I'm getting real frustrated, though, with the underreporting/erasure of queer people in Hollywood at this time. Not by the studios and the fixers and the morals police of the time, but by contemporary biographers and even just the general public. I'm fully immersed into the 'You Must Remember This' podcast (I even sat through the Manson murder season because of the tidbits I could glean that weren't murder related), and I'm reading a book called 'The Whole Equation' by a gentleman named David Thomson, who is a (rather old) film professor and Hollywood historian in various publications. Karina Longworth, of the former, doesn't seem to shy away from the implications of queer stars, while I have found not one reference to anything like this in Thomson's writings in the latter - to my recollection anyway, which is shoddy at best, so maybe I missed something. So maybe the book is more focused on the entirety of Hollywood and how it came to be, so it glosses over a lot of the seedier, juicier bits about the personal lives of stars - though it does go into some detail about Jean Harlow's death by uremic poisoning (Miss Harlean Carpenter comes back into play later in this rant), but I digress. I'm also losing the point of my ire and, therefore, the entirety of this massive rant. I'm just finding out that it's an agreed upon fact that Cary Grant, born Archie Leach and having spent some time in the Village in New York City before his time in Hollywood, was a gay man who only married and had dalliances with women to keep his contract signed and uphold his end of the morals clause therein. Some perspective: I arbitrarily fell in love with Cary Grant sometime after I had confused him for Gregory Peck during high school, then confused him for Clark Gable for a time, then watched a massive stack of his movies and found my affections with the right man. I've loved Cary Grant for a decade. And I'm just. Now. Finding this information out. I'm pissed. I'm livid. And I'm not pissed to find out that he was gay or that he was suppressed (though it does make my blood boil - just on a whole other level). I'm mad because somehow this information - though widely agreed upon by most biographers - is not even mildly commonplace knowledge. I've BEEN pissed off that people see fit to reduce Montgomery Clift's sexuality down to a simple sentence: He was bisexual, like many other stars of the time. You know what? Fuck that noise. That does not begin to encompass the raging wreck that was Monty Clift. The man felt wrong and ugly inside because he loved women but didn't want to sleep with them, and he put himself through years of conversion therapy and it presumably helped spark the alcoholism and addiction that took his looks and his life. Sure, we remember him as one of Liz Taylor's 'boyfriends', but we don't remember his 14 foot medicine cabinet or the fact that he's only remembered as bisexual because he used to get piss drunk and go home with anybody that would have him, regardless of whether or not he really was bisexual. Which brings me around to my mentioning of David Thomson's book. It's dense and it's wordy and it's filled with a lot of subjective narrative about Hollywood and its history, some raw facts about grosses and contract rates. It's a good read, though, especially for someone who's just at the beginning of their journey through Golden Age cinema (it contains a lot more stuff about the actual dawn of the technicality of movies and film, plus a little more about the magic of moving pictures, and it does so in somewhat manageable chunks of metaphors between the point of the story he's trying to tell and a relevant Hollywood figure). As I mentioned earlier, Thomson goes into some detail about Jean Harlow and her upbringing and death, and mentions her marriage to Paul Bern. He mentions Bern's death. He fails to mention that Bern was quite possibly deeply in the closet. Okay, so maybe the man doesn't believe it. Then, he gets into insulting Marlon Brando quite a bit. That's okay. The man was a bear to work with, an odd duck method actor at his best and a literal destroyer of sets at middling and an actual sexual predator at worst (see: 'Last Tango In Paris'). He goes on to blame, somehow, Brando's attitude on therapy. Weird. Then I recall that in Montgomery Clift's Wikipedia article, his sexuality is compared to that of two other actors: James Dean, and Marlon Brando. I haven't done any research into Brandi's bisexuality or lack thereof, but I'm willing to bet there's some merit there. He mentions Greta Garbo, Katherine Hepburn, Kaye Francis - but fails to mention that all of these women were confirmed to be (at the very least) bisexual. He might have mentioned Katherine Hepburn's habit of wearing pants, but I don't think the man even mentioned that her first on screen kiss was WITH ANOTHER WOMAN. The first nail in the 'Whole Equation' coffin for me came in the form of two mentions of Monty in the text: one in which Thomson makes some claims that while working together, John Wayne says that he found Clift 'feeble' but tried like hell to keep up or even outpace him in their filming. Personally, this makes no sense to me, because have you ever seen young John Wayne? He's a dead ringer for Montgomery Clift at his peak. But, okay, Wayne was a hard worker and I can buy him giving the young bucks a hard time. Then, Thomson gives himself the second nail: "[...] Clift would have made [Joe, of 'Sunset Boulevard'] Gillis insidiously charming instead of a desperate scrambler. You would have wanted to save Clift (that was his trick); [William] Holden knows that Gillis is beyond salvation." (p. 250) I'm not going to bother dissecting the part of the paragraph before this quote in which Thomson paints Clift as someone solely turning down a role due to vanity and his own carefully crafted image, because for all I've learned in my time as an amateur historian, this is probably true. Stars were crafted after they were found, and studios did their best to keep stars into the molds they were poured into. I'm gonna talk about the part where Thomson seems to deride Clift for 'tricking' people into saving him. I take this quote as derision as opposed to a compliment to the actor's ability to play a role because of the overall scorn it appears Thomson has for someone who can't seem to live up to the studio's farm factory system, and because he seems to have so much scorn for Clift himself. Could it be that perhaps Clift had this knack for 'tricking' people into thinking they could save him because of his own tortured inner workings and his need for support and validation due to the turmoil he felt because of his sexuality? Maybe I'm just an asshole here because I don't have a degree in psych or film history, but I don't think it would be a stretch to consider that maybe Clift's close friendship with Elizabeth Taylor and his own film roles all contributed to trying to reach out to someone to ease his pain. And maybe - just maybe - Thomson has some kind of problem with this. (DISCLAIMER: I haven't read anything else by this author and I haven't looked into his own personal history and I don't know if he's changed his tune about all of this so I can't be sure.) So, in all of this, somehow and somewhere, what I'm trying to say is: contemporary LGBT people deserve to know their history. There's that post floating around about walking down a hall of history and finding it blank, being told it doesn't exist and that's what it's like for a queer person in this day and age. And I agree. So let's start by acknowledging that Hollywood has been filled with queer people from day one, and go from there. Okay, raging queer nerd out ✌🏻 byeeeee

#long post #;rants #Hollywood history #queer history #I want to know how many people are gonna come at me for this #and I hope zero bc I have no time or energy for this today #also I have like five followers so

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millenniumfae · 8 years ago

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Asexual Sex-Ed: The Dom

When it comes to aces and sex, there’s these huge discussions going left and right. Every ace has their own feelings about sex, and having sex with other people in any context. I’ve talked to many aces (and partners of aces), and I’ve often said that being in a ‘dom’ role can really help reduce sex repulsion and anxiety while also offering sexual stimulation.

Asexual sex-ed is virtually non-existent, which means that aces are often left with limited information, and therefore limited options. But options exist. BDSM with aces may seem like a surprising match, but when you think about it, it really isn’t.

Aces being active in BDSM isn’t without precedent. Kink is especially alive and kicking in the lgbt+ community as a whole, and BDSM in particular is known for being therapeutic. It’s common for those who’re living with trauma to pursue BDSM as a way to cope. And for aces who are sex-repulsed, and/or struggling with their sexuality and libido, BDSM can be an excellent choice.

So I’ve written a BDSM post about asexuality and doms, which is almost completely based off of my own experience of being a dom. I encourage everyone to pursue this information, regardless of their own sexuality or feelings on sex. This is information that needs to be more readily available to the community.

You can also check out my other asexual sex-eds - on masturbating, consent, sexual health, and mental self care. I’m no licensed doctor - I’m writing based solely on my own experience. My words are just one voice in what hopefully will soon be a menagerie of ace sex ed.

(Be warned, pictures to explicit imagery will be linked. This text post contains no explicit imagery.)

What Is A Dom?

Short answer; a ‘dom’ is the other half of a dominant-subservient sex powerplay. It’s a heavily narrative role that uses acting to make a fake scenario of someone being under the ‘control’ of the other.

A BDSM coupling can manifest in several different ways, depending on the party. For some, it’s just their normal sex routine, except with a few ‘yes, mistress’’s thrown in. For others, it’s being encased in a latex bodybag, and left to lie still for several hours while your dom does their laundry and buys their groceries.

That diversity exists amongst aces, too. As you meditate and practice your sexuality, you’ll learn what works for you, and what doesn’t. For allosexuals, their preference for BSDM is heavily dependent on what gets them off. For us, it’s more about what makes us feel safest.

Setting Up For The Dom Role

Every sub/dom session starts with words. A lot of them. If you want to play the dom role in a sexual situation, you can’t just bring it up in a casual conversation, and then leave it at that. Even if you’ve done it before. Even if they’ve done it before. Even if you’ve known each other for years. Even if you feel like they’ve ‘got’ it. A BDSM session requires a lot of planning and consent beforehand.

A good, solid script for a sub/dom session goes something like this;

Asking whether your partner interested, or willing, to partake in a submission role.

Exchanging possibilities and scenarios that you’re both interested in.

Exchanging limitations and no-nos.

Exchanging aftercare methods (more on aftercare below).

Laying down a plan, or a schedule, for the session. AKA, you begin with (this), then continue to (this), and end with (this). The more thorough the plan, the better and safer (and smoother!) the session will be.

As a sex-repulsed ace, I only take booty calls from dating sites or from acquaintance referrals. And since I insist on only allowing BDSM sex, I have gone through multiple versions of these scripts throughout my dating experience. And no one has ever reacted as if I was being too finicky, or particular, with this consent process.

Even with some random Okcupid date, I will insist on a Skype call or a facetime, so the sub will see my face outside the domspace (more on domspaces and subspaces down below) as we lay down the rules.

For example; I got a message from someone that literally only said; “will u beat me up sometime pls thx sorry”. This message was from someone who was a) my age, b) also trans, and c) was a 97% match. So of course, I responded with a solid; “are u looking for a dom? (being serious)”.

And as the conversation continued, my date went on to describe in several paragraphs what they wanted.

someone who can stuff me into a hole intellectually {...} and is good with manipulating power dynamics. not necessarily trying to fuck, mostly looking for the psych bit and some nonsexual physical stuff / seems like there'd be a lot to work with given your lack of interest in sex generally if you decided intercourse was appropriate. what's really important for me (turns out, maybe this is where i've self sabotaged before) is not having to tell the person how specifically to force my submission. very much would prefer dom to be able to figure that bit out given whatever volunteered biographical-type information was exchanged beforehand.

In the BDSM community, you’re much more likely to find people who will gladly write pages upon pages of what they want, in explicit (and often poetic) detail. Which can be very annoying if you attract the attention of white cis men in their 40′s who want to be the next Christian Grey.

But that’s good news for you lovelies. As an ace dom, you’ll have very little trouble with bluntly listing your limits and desires, or finding partners willing to partake. I’ve never met a willing sub that was put off, or unaccepting of my asexuality.

Tools, Toys, And Tricks - For The Asexual

You’ve probably seen the wooden paddles and braided ropes and satin blindfolds. Many of them have been carefully designed to minimize injury while also maximizing physical sensation. Spanking with a paddle, for example, will often start with a soft, small model before continuing into using a hard wooden one. This is to make sure there’s adequate bloodflow to the buttcheeks to increase sensitivity, while also reducing the pain.

But to an ace perspective, those leather handcuffs aren’t just to tie up your partner and excite them, it’s also a good way to constrain their hands so you don’t have to deal with their touch on your body. A blindfold will give you privacy. Mouth gags will prevent any intrusive dialogue that might make you uncomfortable.

As with all things involved in the bedroom, you first need to make sure that the tools are body safe. There’s no government regulation on sex toy materials, which means you could potentially end up with bacteria-laden silicon, or toxin-infected plastics. Buy from trusted brands, or reputable suppliers.

Especially useful bondage tools include restraints that go under the bed, flexible velcro cloth handcuffs, and ropes made out of soft, natural cotton (instead of itchier polyester).

Another BDSM tool that is particularly helpful for the ace are chasity toys. The chasity BDSM subculture is essentially orgasm denial with powerplay. And to an ace, it’s a good way to limit the use of sexual organs. Chasity toys are usually geared towards penises, in the form of cages that prevent erections. Vagina equivalent are usually belts that block the entire pelvis.

Like with all sex, toys and tools aren’t limited to one niche. Instead of buying brand-name fluffy handcuffs, you can very well make do with a random piece of fabric tied loosely around the wrists. In my experience, using bondage tools are a reliable way of reducing sexual contact while also pleasing your sub partner.

Your Relationship With The Sub - What Is ‘Power?’

At its core, a BDSM session is mostly for the sub’s benefit. While there’s real elements of control, ultimately a sub/dom coupling is done to please the sub primarily, rather than the dom. That’s why people hire dominatrixes - some white-collar lawyer may not even be touched throughout the entire session, but they’re really into being whipped and verbally degraded during their lunch break. Meanwhile, the dominatrix is thinking about which curtains they should use for the living room.

The same goes for ace BDSM. Regardless of your reason for partaking in a scene, the sub is your center of attention. This means you can’t, like, just go through a BDSM session and come out feeling like you mastered your repulsion once and for all. And no amount of amazing sex will ‘cure’ you of asexuality.

For aces, the appeal of being a dom is a way to partake in sexual activity while minimizing discomfort. Even if you aren’t sex repulsed, aces often struggle with our ability to consent to sex. Being a dom is a way to have power over the situation.

But as said, the sub/dom relationship doesn’t involve complete power. The idea of a dominant sexual partner is a facade. That’s why BDSM is enjoyable - the sub’s wrists may actually be tied up and cemented to the bedpost under lock and key, but a dom is completely under the will of a sub’s consent. If that sub decides to release their hands from those shackles, you have no power to overrule that.

Being a dom isn’t about envisioning your repulsion as tied up and subdued, and going through this therapeutic night of whipping your problems into shape. Most of the time, being an asexual dom just means that you have a good excuse for leaving all your clothes on, and not allowing yourself to be sexually stimulated.

We all have our reasons for wanting to have sex. Perhaps, as a sex-repulsed ace, you actually do enjoy sex but experience anxiety afterwards. Or perhaps you’re struggling with hypersexuality. Regardless the reason, you can’t expect BDSM to be a fix-all anymore than you can expect any possible method of therapy or socialization to be a wondercure.

Sub/Dom ‘Space’ - For The Ace

Entering a ‘subspace’ is basically shorthand for ‘entering a heightened state of emotions due to getting really into the scene’. When you Google ‘subspace’, you’ll get a diverse collection of descriptions of what it means to enter subspace. Everyone’s subspace is different - for some people, subspace is when your body is over-stimulated, leaving you cloudy-headed and weak. For others, subspace is a very psychological sensation that’s akin to dissociation, or a hypnotic trance.

On the other end, there’s ‘domspace’. Like subspace, it’s an altered state of mind where you experience yourself differently. Some describe their domspace as like an emotional high, or heightened emotions. Some describe it as a spiritual experience that channels a reservoir of power.

For those familiar with BDSM practices, subspace and domspace are words to describe what might happen during a scene. Some people trigger their space with practice and with enthusiasm, some never experience a state that they’d describe as either.

For the ace dom, experiencing domspace is a real possibility. But it’s more dangerous for us; a lot of the time, having sex as an ace means consenting to a language that you don’t share with your partner, and therefore the laws of consent are bent. In that scenario, entering an altered state of mind isn’t an ideal state to be in.

An ace’s domspace wouldn’t be something to retreat towards, it’s something to closely reign and keep in check to make sure you reduce any confusion. You don’t want to lose your sense of self while in a dangerous situation.

I’ve personally never experienced anything like a ‘domspace’, but the idea alone has made me think long and hard about my asexuality and its relationship to being a dom. It’s something you should think about to, if you chose to pursue it.

Aftercare And Self-Care

‘Aftercare’ is big in the BDSM community. And in the sex world in general. Aftercare is the term to describe ‘caring’ for your partner after a sex scene is over and done with, to ensure good mental health and physical wellbeing. Sometimes, that just means snuggling and soft words of comfort. For BDSM, that could mean bandages, ice packs, and so on.

Aftercare is essential in a sub/dom scenario, and its common for the aftercare to last longer than the session. Without aftercare, all parties risk huge health risks, not limited to physical injuries, mental trauma, and emotional stress. You can’t go overboard with aftercare.

For a basic rundown of aftercare;

The first thing people usually need is water. Often, people will drink water throughout the session, but sometimes people get so into it, they don’t realize that their throat is actually parched until it ends.

Give yourselves time to retreat from sub/dom space, and back into your social selves. You drop the tone of voice you’ve been using, you relax your acting postures, you quiet down from shouting so much, you remove all restraints and tools, and so on. Conversation shifts back to normal, and you get a rest from any physical exertion.

Check yourselves and each other for injuries. You may have been aware of some bruises or rashes being formed during the session, and here’s the chance to take a good, closer look. Small things like cuts and abrasions can get nasty infections, bruises and chapped lips can be irritable and painful. Any pelvic pains should be noted and examined when you have the chance. It’s better to give medical attention to chafed nipples or stubbed toes now rather than later.

Keep up conversation. When you ask, ‘how are you feeling?’ The answer might change by the minute. Keep an eye on everyone’s feelings, including your own. Rising stress can be leveled by removing yourself from the space and otherwise preoccupying yourself. Tensions between partners best be addressed before things grow out of control.

Take part in other enjoyable, stress-free activities. For some, it’s taking a bath together. Or cooking a meal. Or getting some drinks and watching funny cat videos in bed. Having a happy aftercare will do wonders to reduce any discomfort and anxiety.

Aftercare extends beyond the bedroom. It’s common to drive your sub home, to ensure that they won’t get into any accidents due to a distracting subspace. And someone still woozy from BDSM might forget their jewelry, or their bag. It’d do no harm to dote on each other, so to speak.

The Aftermath: Recovery And Healing

Unfortunately, good aftercare can’t ‘solve’ everything. No amount of cuddling can solve a bad BDSM session. And for those who are sex-repulsed, the situation is even more aggravated. Asexual people are very susceptible to sex-borne trauma, which means that our self-care goes beyond most.

Any anxiety from the sex probably won’t go away the next morning. And it might lie dormant until your next date, in which you’re hit underhand with a reminder of why you actually don’t like sex. And it’s normal to have enjoyed the sex, but dread it at the same time.

It can be very confusing to feel lost and hurt from a situation that wasn’t harmful at all. But that’s part of sex-repulsion, and part of asexuality in general. Being a dom means minimizing any triggers for this kind of anxiety, but it probably won’t avoid all of it.

As with any trauma aftercare, it’s important to maintain a sense of pride regardless of any intrusive thoughts. You’re not weak or broken for feeling the way you do. You’re a brave and brilliant individual, who faces the things you face. It’s not about eliminating or ‘curing’ this part of yourself, it’s about coming to terms with them.

A lot of the time, I don’t contact any dates ever again. It’d be too difficult to repeat the events. And that’s ok, that’s one of the ways I take care of myself and make sure I minimize trauma. And it definitely helps to document your feelings as time goes on, and also to share your feelings with a trusted friend. Going at it alone is one thing, with support it’s much easier.

I almost never go on dates knowing that I have plans the day after. It’s important that I have several hours to meditate and calm myself down after a dom session, away from my partners. I enter asexual spaces and remind myself that I am valid and strong.

Remember; the power of being a dom might be fictional, but your power as an ace is forever.

#asexual sex ed #sex education #asexuality #asexual #actuallyasexual

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turnabouttoothbrush · 8 years ago

Text

Sick.

Alright everyone, for those of you who missed the memo I have my college application in (for real y’all), my church-mandated therapy completed and the rebuttal to that GARBAGE psyche eval being sent in on Friday, and I got a job with an NPO which for now I’ll keep quiet about (since it technically isn’t a job so much as it is I’m volunteering in an unusually prominent capacity).

So yeah I actually have stuff going on in my life now. (I haven’t even mentioned yet that I got two callings in the Church. They’re gonna let me teach Relief Society! Me! And coordinate the YSA’s visiting teaching like I actually, like, know anyone in the YSA.)

Anyway. That, of course, doesn’t mean I should be neglecting my loyal(?) fans - as of late I’ve updated my ask blog recently and I’ve been uploading fanfiction at a fair clip, so now it’s your turn to be entertained by me, the great Airey, before The Hiatus™ begins.

By the way, can someone update the TVTropes page so I don’t have to do it? I think the last couple MSTs haven’t been taken into account there yet.

Today’s sporking that I’m totally not writing because I’m actually just procrastinating on writing a talk I have to give in sacrament meeting next Sunday is of some fic on AO3 that I found while I was going through the Undertail tag for stuff to put in the queue. It caught my eye because the dynamic between Sans and Papyrus (yeah, this is a fontcest fic, that’s why it’s here) is freakishly similar to the dynamic I’ve been using in some of my Liquidmantis fics. (Mostly this one.)

Of course I might just be seeing things. Fuckin wild, though, I’ll say that much.

Anyway, without further ado, Sick.

“I’M SO SORRY.”

Sans could only stare at his feet, slowly wriggling his toes against the fibres of the carpet to see if he could feel them. He could not.

“how long.”

“GOD, I’M SO, SO SORRY.”

The fact that the fic actually uses the allcaps/no caps “speech” patterns makes it all the funnier.

Man, wouldn’t it be great if you could change fonts on AO3. I’d put all my fics in Comic Sans just to punish people for reading them.

Sans tried to focus his swimming vision. Even sat down, it felt as if his legs were going to give and he would collapse forward. Papyrus was on the other side of the couch, bouncing his leg and wishing he weren’t to stupid, so ignorant as to think opening his mouth was a good idea.

Papyrus leaned forward to pacify Sans, who was stunned, locked in place, and winced when Sans leaned away.

“how long, papyrus,” he choked.

Papyrus was frantic. A barrier had been removed and like it or not, it was all coming out.

Side note: the archive warnings for this fic are Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings and Rape/Non-Con.

He clamped his hands to his mouth, but couldn’t stop the torrent.

“I-- A WHILE. I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO-- I DIDN’T MEAN-- IT’S SICK, I KNOW--”

“how long’s ‘a while’.”

Papyrus snapped his gaze away.

“GOD, IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANYONE. IT COULD HAVE BEEN ANYONE. WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE YOU?”

Sans didn’t have an easy answer for him.

He didn’t even know where to begin.

“I-- I CAN’T STOP IMAGINING US TOGETHER, AND IT EATS ME UP INSIDE, I CAN’T CONCENTRATE, I CAN’T DO ANYTHING, I HATE MYSELF FOR THINKING--”

“don’t.”

Papyrus was almost bellowing in panic, arms swinging, spittle flying from his mouth as everything he had ever known crumbled around him.

“DON’T WHAT?”

“don’t-- don’t say things like that.

it ain’t right.”

“WELL, I’M SORRY TO BE THE BEARER OF BAD NEWS, BUT THIS SITUATION ISN’T RIGHT! AND I’VE GONE AND RUINED EVERYTHING--!”

“you haven’t.”

Papyrus threw his arms up in exasperation, a frenzied ball of movement. Sans sat there.

“WELL, WHAT WOULD YOU CALL THIS, THEN? IT’S NOT AS IF I COULD POSSIBLY EXPECT YOU TO RETURN MY FEELINGS, IN FACT, IT WOULD BE WRONG IF YOU DID--!”

Sans spoke without thinking, anything to make him feel better.

“what if i did, huh?”

Unfortunately the author is determined to make us uncomfortable.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Papyrus froze, until they were staring at each other. Sans wanted to vomit.

“PLEASE DON’T BE CRUEL. THIS ISN’T THE TIME FOR JOKES.”

What the hell was he doing.

“it ain’t.”

Astonished, Papyrus leaned forward, tempering his urge to pull him into a crushing hug.

And making the POV inconsistent.

“Y-YOU WANT TO--?”

“yeah.”

Papyrus gave in, throwing himself around Sans.

“I COULD CRY!”

“i know how you feel,” he murmured, an idiot.

I’m sure anyone even passingly familiar with the Undertale fandom has come across blogs whose sole purpose is unending, vitriolic tirades against both fontcest and fontcest shippers. They’re everywhere.

Look, guys. Here’s my official So, What Colour Is Your Toothbrush?-endorsed opinion on fontcest:

And here’s my official opinion on people who run blogs like that:

I MEAN SERIOUSLY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WHO ACTUALLY GIVES A FUCK

It was a matter of slowly working their way through the dating rulebook. And at the start, it was if nothing had changed. Had the conversation been ignored, their dynamic was the same, except pepper with more glances from Papyrus, and more awkward silences on Sans’ end.

“WEARING CLOTHING, I SEE.”

“yup.”

It’s a shit ship, so block the tag and move on with your life.

It might be incest, but it’s also fuckin’ pixelated video game skeletons. Who cares. I know I selected this fic for sporking solely because *Grunts* Bad Ship, but hey, fucked up is fucked up. I’m not targeting any shippers over this.

And then it grew closer. Papyrus stood a little nearer, when they were on duty. Sans gave him the occasional chaste peck on the head. And, after Sans had checked and checked again that nobody would see, he let Papyrus hold his clammy palms under the sentry desk. Until, finally, Papyrus tapped Sans on the shoulder when they were at home relaxing in his bedroom as the racecar bed had even springs that wouldn’t dig in when he got comfy, and cleared his throat.

“I WAS THINKING, WE COULD… BECOME CLOSER.”

Anyway that might have been a little off-topic. But quite frankly this fic is rather well-written and it really is only here because it’s (intentionally!) got a totally screwed-up dynamic and oh yeah it’s the Confirmed™ worst ship associated with this long-suffering game.

But it’s mostly the worst ship because why do y’all skeletonfuckers have to do this to me :( :( :(

And I want no part in the anti-fontcest children’s parade.

Sans looked up from his book.

“you wanna cuddle?”

And Sans knew that look anywhere. He had shot it to enough people in passing.

“IN… A MANNER OF SPEAKING.”

I will not make a bone pun.

Sans felt his chest tighten, as if in a vice.

“oh, you wanna… i… kinda assumed you weren’t really into--?”

Boning-

THIS JOKE IS SO OBVIOUS AND EXPECTED THAT I CAN’T HONESTLY CALL IT HUMERUS!

“IT’S NOT THAT. IT’S JUST... HARD TO TALK ABOUT. PRIVATE. YOU’RE MY BROTHER, AFTER ALL.”

The statement hung in the air, and Papyrus quelled the little flame of self loathing that came with it,

Gotta admit, I have a bone to pick with how the author keeps randomly switching POV!

because it didn’t matter anymore. He could be honest. Sans could only stare back, distant. Gone.

“BUT NOW THAT THINGS ARE AS THEY SHOULD, I FELT AS IF I SHOULD BE TRUTHFUL. AND TELL YOU THAT I-- I DON’T KNOW WHAT IT REALLY--”

The vice tightened still. It felt as if leeches were wriggling in his ribs, cold and lurid and fit to pop.

Terrible skeleton puns aside, that’s a great line but they’re fucking skeletons man, what do they have to do with leeches.

“oh.”

“BUT I WOULD REALLY, REALLY LIKE TO--”

Dammit. That settled it then. Damn it, damn it, damn it. Fuck.

Papyrus was so naive regarding sex that Sans could fob him off with anything. Great. Good to see that smaller failure was aiding this massive, hideous failure.

I told you we’d be making jokes about that for the rest of the lifespan of this blog.

Cunt was probably a good call for this, even if it wasn’t his usual choice. Probably feel better for Pap.

At the slight nod of resignation that Papyrus misunderstood as playing coy he rested his hands behind his skull and let his cock materialize.

There it was. Huh. How awful.

Wanting it to be over and to return to his book, Sans moved his joggers aside, lowering himself on Papyrus’ cock but finding he was bone dry. Heh.

Too bad I already made the “humerus” joke.

Sans grit his teeth, willing himself to become wetter, before slowly pushing down again. Papyrus’ hands pulled at the bedsheets, twisting them until they almost split.

“OH WOW, THAT’S-- THAT’S KIND OF SORE--”

Papyrus stuck two digits in his mouth, coating them in saliva, before briefly pulling out of Sans to finger him. Too hard. Too clumsy. Scraping.

Is it bad that I’m kind of enjoying having an awful-sounding sex scene here that actually knows it’s awful?

Insides slicked, Papyrus moved to try again.

“thanks,” Sans croaked.

“DON’T MENTION IT,” Papyrus soothed, “EVERYONE NEEDS HELP SOMETIMES.”

Yeah, help with that

BIG

FAT

B O N E

youtube

Slowly he pushed until he had sunk in entirely, before holding himself still for Sans’ sake. His head was thrown back, breaths shallow and quick, eyes locked open. All he could do was pant and try to process the feeling coursing through him, pulsing from his pelvis to the ends of him, and back. Like he was feeling the low hum of electricity.

Sans scrunched his eyes shut, trying to accommodate his brother’s cock,

SHAKE THAT BONE

SHAKE THAT B̷̝̙̹͕͍̣̰O̡̻͖̮N͍̥͍̥E̴̺̗

and above that, trying not to retch. Something foreign had wormed its way into him, and all he had to do was bounce on it until Papyrus came.

… The full realisation of what Sans was doing cut through his fog, and he looked to where they were joined, Papyrus hissing through his teeth as tears trickled down his face.

God almighty. There was nothing lower.

Except maybe writing this.

Or redistributing said writing packaged with lame jokes and references.

In an effort to distract himself, Sans parted his legs a little, before laboriously rising up to sink Papyrus’ cock--

He was going to gag.

-- Back in, feeling it pulse and twitch as he writhed underneath him.

“OH MY GOD, SANS,” he squealed, “SANS, SANS, SANS, GOD, IT’S--”

Down. Up. Clench once or twice for effect, to help Papyrus along. Sans was always good at that. Making Papyrus happy.

I mean... that’s one way of putting it.

Papyrus, in response, looked at Sans dead on, like a corpse looking back at him from a slab.

Sexy.

>A-Airey haven’t you written necrophilia before-

NOT FUCKING YET I HAVEN’T

GHOSTS DON’T COUNT

(SPOILERS FROM THE MOTHERFUCKING FUTURE: I have.)

At the sight his arousal heightened

Then again I guess corpses are by default sexier than skeletons.

and his back arched, pelvis nearly lifting Sans’ knees off the bed entirely, distracting him from his duties. He was yelping with every movement, years of suppressed arousal finally being expressed, and with the man he loved.

Sans looked down at him with pity. Love, revulsion, and pity. Whatever had gone wrong had gone spectacularly wrong,

Well it certainly is a spectacle of some sort.

for both of them, something far beyond the little flaws they had. This was not ‘sleeping all day’. This was not ‘neuroticism’. This was not ‘nagging’. This was sick. A massive, gaping chasm across their egos, and this was the easy fill. This, of all things, was the easy route.

Wearily, Sans sunk himself down and Papyrus scrabbled his legs, panting like a rabid dog.

*pumps shotgun*

He yelped.

“YOU FEEL SO GOOD-- IS-- IS THIS ALWAYS LIKE THIS--?”

“yeah. sex is supposed to be fun.” “I DON’T KNOW ABOUT YOU, BUT I’M HAVING AN ABSOLUTE BLAST. A PARTY IN MY GROIN, BUT NOBODY IS INVITED EXCEPT FOR YOU.”

Sans actually chuckled at the very Papyrus turn-of-phrase, and that was the kindling that set his guilt alight. What were they doing?

“please-- please don’t talk while i do this.”

Papyrus looked hurt.

“-- it’s distracting,” he said.

Grinding forward and back, letting him really feel the soft insides of his cunt.

Brothers didn’t do this.

I’ve got 4,380 words in front of me that apparently beg to differ.

Sans wondered if he could tap into the little tidbits he knew of Papyrus, that came effortlessly with years of cohabiting, or if that would make this act even more of an abomination than it already was. Still, it was worth a try. If it worked, it would be over far sooner, and Sans could blister his bones

...h-how??

clean in the shower and not think for a while. Better this than have his thoughts bubble into blains of resentment, and that could not ever be allowed to happen. This was a burden he was taking on to make his brother happy. His innocent, sweet brother, that couldn’t be tarnished by a lover that might wish him harm. Take advantage of him. Sully him. His strong, fragile brother.

Oop, this took a hard turn into yandere territory, didn’t it.

Sans was always good at keeping him company when nobody else would. And if he couldn’t do it now, what was he good at?

If Sans didn’t have Papyrus, what else did he have?

“you’re real big, y’know.”

Papyrus glanced up at him, not understanding, and Sans calmed his shaking breaths, his juddering hands.

“your dick. it‘s real big.”

Papyrus felt a huge jolt of arousal, scrunching his face

HOW

in response to the spike in this delightful new feeling.

“WH--”

“real thick, too.”

I’ve noticed that on AO3, any time someone gets complimented during a sex scene it’s always tagged “praise kink”. I honestly thought that was standard procedure - am I just naïve?

Papyrus felt a pressure build, until it was almost burgeoning, and it compelled him to thrust harder, faster, until Sans was entirely off the bed, suspended by Papyrus’ hands as he was pummeled. Any harder and his hips would snap. It was a brutal, desperate fuck. Sans could barely speak.

“gonna-- gonna split me in half if you keep that up, h-heh.”

Papyrus looked to him through his bleary, pleasured haze, and it seemed very appealing. God, Sans, above him, naked, face contorting in pleasure as they fucked (how very scandalous!), it was everything he could have--

“y-you gonna cum, pappy?”

That did it.

Papyrus’ body locked in place, before a guttural, broken groan crawled out of his mouth as he spurted his seed in a very sore, very weary Sans.

His hips began to spasm as his body experienced release for the very first time. He looked as confused as he did blissed out, toes curling and grip tightening enough to bruise bone.

Fun fact: you can actually bruise bone. It’s less severe than a fracture but it swells up and looks bad and, I hear, hurts like shit. (Note: admin has never sustained a severe traumatic injury in their life, despite their seeming best efforts.)

In exquisite, writhing agony, Papyrus continued to thrust as best he could. It felt like he was on fire, like his nerves were being individually set alight and tugged on and abused, and he didn’t recall ever feeling so fantastic,

I dunno about you man but that description didn’t make it sound so fantastic to me

so finally fulfilled.

Sans had his eyes shut, and Papyrus attributed it to arousal.

“I--I CAN’T-- I CAN’T STOP THIS MUST HURT I’M SORRY--”

He was hammering into Sans smaller body like he was battering a nail into a wall, over and over, while Sans could only make hiccup noises upon each impact until finally, Papyrus slowed, spent. Wincing at the raw piece of flesh between his legs, Sans scraped himself off, wincing as Papyrus’ painfully hard cock intensified the pain of removal before lying down, wheezing and prostrated. His cunt vanished and he was left with a tingling, hollow warmth.

Also I still can’t get over fucking magical genitalia.

Papyrus turned to face him, eyes lidded and grin dopey, cuddling up and peppering him with kisses.

Sans responded. Hands on his shoulders. A kiss on the scalp. Stroke it; one, two, one, two--

Stroke what?

“DID YOU… FINISH?”

No.

“yeah.”

But the fic’s still going. :/

Papyrus’ shoulders sunk in relief.

“OH, GOOD! I WAS WORRIED, SINCE I’M SO INEXPERIENCED.”

“night.”

Sans turned, eyes open, to face away from Papyrus, his book no longer holding any appeal.

“... TIRED! YOU MUST BE EXHAUSTED. OF COURSE, I… WAS QUITE VIGOROUS IN MY LOVEMAKING!

On the one hand, I really want someone to voice act this in that goofy fanon Skeletor knock-off voice. But on the other hand,

I UNDERSTAND YOUR RAMPANT LAZINESS.”

Papyrus gave him a gentle smooch on the back of the head.

“I’M OFF TO GO HAVE A SHOWER. I LEAKED LIKE A FAUCET, AND I DON’T LIKE THIS STICKINESS.”

Sans winced.

“UNLESS YOU WOULD LIKE TO JOIN ME…? WE DON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT COVERING UP ANYMORE.”

“i’ll pass, thanks.”

“NO PROBLEM. ENJOY HAVING ONE OF THOSE HIDEOUSLY LONG NAPS,” he ribbed affectionately, “WHILE I’M OFF TO BE A PRODUCTIVE MEMBER OF SOCIETY.”

“yeah.”

The door clicked shut, bathing Sans in a pale, blue night, and he felt cum coat the inside of his ribs.

I cannot emphasize enough how weird the skeletonfucking is. Shit ain’t normal. Get it together, Undertale fandom.

Papyrus, despite having the understanding needed to appreciate the pleasure that came with sex, lacked the capacity to discern when it was appropriate. He would readily take and understand a ‘no’, but saw nothing wrong with pestering Sans every time he was hard, which, given his recent discovery of sexual gratification, was often.

It’s talking about THIS GUY

GET IT TOGETHER, UNDERTALE FANDOM

Sans was currently doing the dishes. Papyrus had swanned in after him and pressed his erection into the bulk of his tailbone, breathing heavily.

“SANS,” he purred, low and dripping with want. He slipped the front of his pants down, slowly rubbing it over the polyester of Sans’ shorts and leaving them wet with precum. He gripped in earnest before humping, jostling Sans against the counter, the motion summoning his own cock.

He couldn’t deal with the shame of enjoying it in earnest, not yet. And Undyne would be arriving soon for dinner.

“i’m-- i’m not--”

Papyrus was fucking his clothing, panting and moaning in want. He squatted to improve the friction, rutting loudly enough to fill the kitchen, while Sans gripped the counter in an effort to keep from falling off the stool he was stood on.

“--really in the mood right now, pap.”

Papyrus slowed as the words sunk in, before blinking. Then, he stopped entirely before rooting down the front of Sans’ joggers.

“... BUT YOU’RE HARD. IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?”

“just… not feelin’ it,

...I’m sorry. I’ll show myself out.

bro,” he lied.

Sans cursed at himself. This isn’t the way he had seen his life going.

“... OH. WELL, DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT! THEY ALWAYS GO DOWN AFTER A WHILE, EVEN WHEN THEY’RE REALLY, REALLY HARD.”

Sans put the dish in the sink, leaving the water to fester, before giving Papyrus a confused glance.

“can’t you just go jerk it in the bathroom?”

Papyrus cocked his head.

“WHAT?”

I think y’all’ve noticed I’m having far too much fun with the Undertale dialogue box generator...

Oh.

“... y’know? masturbate?”

“I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT IS.”

Sans balked.

“how the hell can you not know?”

“YOU NEVER TOLD ME.”

*insert sweet summer child joke here*

Something twisted in Sans’ gut. A wrong he had to make right. Another bout of self-abasement he apparently couldn’t refrain from.

“go sit down,” he said quietly.

Papyrus did so, his considerable erection tenting his shorts as he sat down in the living room, legs spread, self consciousness not occurring to him. Sans followed, sitting next to him.

“take it ou--”

Papyrus had already done so,

On the plus side, you’ll never catch me with a Harambe joke here.

In 2017, at least.

looking very pleased with where the situation was headed. Slowly, Sans gripped the hard mass of Papyrus’ cock, before softly tugging, as he would his own. Papyrus whimpered, raising his hips off the sofa in desperation.

“don’t shut your eyes.”

Papyrus looked at him, eyes lidded, cock twitching. Sans averted his gaze.

“don’t look at me, either. look at what i’m doin.”

S̶̗H̯̜̤̩͉̺̘A̴̼̤͎͝K̵̼̝̰ͅÈ̗̱̖̟̮̮ T̙̮͓HA̶̝̺̖̰̪̭T̛͖̣̳̞̫ B̸̘̗͇̥͍̬̜͔͐͋̉̑͗̿̐͠͞ͅO̠̜̜͑ͫͅN̶̜͕̥͓͙̤̓̉ͫ̍́͝E̘̼͕̫͆̄ͬͭͨ́̏ͥ͢͡

For effect, Sans tugged a little harder than he should have, and Papyrus moaned.

If he learns, he’ll do it himself. Lighten the load. Get it over with once, save himself the hassle in the future. To quiet Papyrus’ worries, Sans tugged on it one more time, and squeezed a yelp out of him.

Papyrus clumsily pawed at Sans’ cock in tandem over his sweatpants.

“D-DOES THIS FEEL GOOD?”

Fuck. It actually did.

“y-yeah.”

Sans took a deep breath, feeling a growing, gnawing heat, and resumed his ministrations.

I fuckin’ hate that word.

Jerking evenly from the bottom to the leaking tip, the flesh of his cock sliding to accommodate the motions as it slowly grew wet with precum.

He felt himself drip.

He had been so wrapped in self-rancour these past few weeks that it was becoming harder and harder to have it stick. Now it was just… Happening. He didn’t protest when Papyrus fumblingly pulled his fat cock out.

It was just.

Happening.

This isn’t the kind of Happening I’ve been waiting my whole life for-!!

Papyrus looked to what Sans was doing, scrutinizing, studying as an apprentice would, before inexpertly mimicking the movements. Squeezing too hard, and rubbing too quickly. Thinking back to their last time, Papyrus removed his glove before hesitatingly spitting into his palm. Filthy. Dirty. Good.

Bad.

Sans sighed in resignation because with the benefit of lube he was probably going to cum this time.

On cue, Papyrus began to jerk again, and Sans’ chest rumbled in pleasure. Papyrus looked smug.

“OH, YOU DO MAKE NOISE! NOT SO HIGH AND MIGHTY NOW, MR. SILENCE-IN-BED MAN.”

Sounds like the world’s worst superhero to me.

...okay, maybe not the world’s worst superhero, but definitely up there.

Sans could only watch as he came undone, legs opening to accommodate Papyrus’ movements as they grew more confident, until they were jerking each other off in perfect tandem

But this is certainly the world’s worst proposed Olympic event.

and Papyrus’ louder vocalisations were joined by Sans’ quiet, more restrained moans. The sensation still being a novelty to him, Papyrus came first, loud and thrashing and uncontrolled, yelping, “SANS! SANS!” as if he would never be able to say it again when it was all over. Papyrus’ grip went limp and fell away, just as Sans’ climax was building. He could take comfort in the fact that at least he had never cum. Hide behind that last bastion of dignity.

Dignity?

On this blog?!

Papyrus ducked down, and before Sans could process what was happening, his cock with slicked with saliva as Papyrus fucked him with the wet cavern of his mouth.

“d-dude--!”

Caught off-guard, he came in Papyrus’ mouth, gripping his skull on instinct and pressing him down until he could only make choked noises. Papyrus gave him two solid thuds on the hip, a signal to tap out, and Sans let go. He was shaking from the come-down, eyes unfocused.

“s-sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to be so rough.”

“I LIKED IT! THAT FELT GOOD.”

BAD.

Sans wasn’t quite sure how to quantify what he was feeling, but a small part of it was ‘relief’, while the bulk was ‘overwhelming self-loathing’, but that wasn’t new. Absently, he glanced to the clock on the wall while he adjusted his sweatpants.

“geeze, we cut it close.”

“WE DID. I LIKE THE IDEA THAT WE MIGHT BE CAUGHT. IT MAKES IT FEEL BETTER.”

A statement like that regarding the one of single deepest taboos available did not inspire confidence in Sans.

Tchyeah, what’s next, cuckoldry?

“you remember what i said?”

“‘DON’T TELL ANYONE’, YES, I KNOW. BUT I COULD HANDLE ALL THE SHAME IN THE WORLD IF IT MEANT I COULD BE WITH YOU.”

Sans couldn’t.

Papyrus sat up, hoping they hadn’t stained the couches.

“I DON’T LIKE THE SNEAKING AROUND. THIS IS OUR HOUSE, WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO DO WHAT WE WANT.”

“that’s naive.”

“SO? I THINK PEOPLE ARE KINDER THAN YOU ASSUME.”

That’s until you tell them some shit about incest or-

Fuck okay that random line hit kind of close to home.

Jeez, maybe I should stop presenting myself as being oh so non-judgemental. It really attracts... things. Uncomfortable things. Secrets I agree to keep even though I don’t wanna and it’s stressing me out and making me feel sick and now I’m vagueblogging about it in the middle of a sporking because this is the one place I’m sure the guy who told me doesn’t read.

...moving on.

The doorbell rang, and Papyrus set about cleaning himself up at once. He pointed to himself.

“HOW’S THE FACE?”

“fine.”

Papyrus opened his mouth.

“dude, swallow, there’s some hangin’ out in the back of your jaw.”

He gulped, before opening his mouth again.

“... yeah, there ya go.”

Papyrus stood up, striding over to answer the door.

“you sure it’s undyne?”

“Are you scrubs even home?!”

“nevermind.”

I’m genuinely surprised she didn’t actually walk in on them, this seems like the kind of fic where it would happen.

Undyne chewed her way through her spaghetti dinner, engrossed in her own story, open mouthed and braying.

“-- So then the guy said to me ‘look, I didn’t steal anything! I thought they were giving away free samples’. If I caught him eating a grape, I’d have bought it, but the thing is he had a computer under his arm. He had just walked out with it!”

Why do I feel like anyone who’s ever worked in retail probably has a story similar to this one?

Papyrus balked, enthralled, while Sans watched them both.

“DID HE THINK THAT WOULD WORK?”

“Yeah!! He thought I was just gonna be like ‘oh shit dude sorry for the confusion’, instead of laughing and punching him real hard. It’s nuts what people’ll do when they’re caught! I’ve got another story, some guy tried to smuggle an entire toy piano up his--”

She looked to dinner.

“-- You know what, it can wait ‘till later.

So, what have you been up to, Paps?”

Papyrus hemmed in thought, methodically spinning his fork. Sans was cramming as much into his maw as he could manage, staining his shirt.

“WELL,” he began, “I’VE BEEN TRYING TO WORK ON MY LEG STRENGTH RECENTLY, NOW THAT I’VE BEEN TAKING RUNNING MORE SERIOUSLY.”

Undyne nodded in appreciation.

“You doing those leg squats I taught you?”

“I AM.”

“Cool.”

Squats > all other forms of exercise

You laugh, right up until I murder you with my thighs.

(Hey, I used to fence, okay...)

“SANS HAS… HAD A BURGER NAMED AFTER HIM AT GRILLBY’S.”

She looked back, pleased.

“What’s in it?”

“bun, cheese, ketchup.”

“That’s so gross, I’m gonna order, like, five.”

Alright now I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Please note that this is a blind sporking, by the way, or at least it has been for the past little bit since when I found the fic I only read up until the “You don’t know how to masturbate?” scene.

Which, by the way, I typo’d ‘masturbate’ as ‘mustardbate’ just now. >_>

And without missing a beat, Papyrus decided to add to the conversation further, all cosied up in the living room, sat against the the beaten up dining table.

“SANS AND I ARE IN LOVE!”

And by the way I’m psychic.

Sans dropped his fork. A dawning, creeping horror set upon him.

“You’re bros,” she snorted, “of course you love each other. You guys fall out, or something?”

UNDYNE RUN WHILE YOU STILL CAN

Sans looked to Papyrus, broken. He couldn’t handle obloquy.

obloquy

...geez, this is the first time in, like, ever I’ve had to actually look up a word in a fic.

Google says it’s “strong public criticism or verbal abuse” or “disgrace, especially that brought about by public abuse.” I assume the author’s going for the second definition here.

The thing is, the word hasn’t been in common-ish use since the 1850s, and even then - I mean, I’ve read books from the time when people sorta used the word and I’ve never heard it before.

Which makes it kind of out of place in an Undertale fanfic, don’t you think?

Please, people, there’s nothing wrong with looking up synonyms when you need to sound cool - but do try to keep context in mind. Don’t use a word that turns back only one result in Google Books.

He could barely handle waking up.

“please.”

“SHE HAS TO KNOW.”

Papyrus stared at her, while Sans stared through her.

“papyrus.”

She laughed, less emphatically this time, still chowing down on her pasta.

“Didn’t think you were one for gross-out humour, dude. Bleh! You got me.”

He held the gaze until finally, it sank in.

“Y-You two are…?”

“SLEEPING TOGETHER,” he said plainly, “YES.”

Undyne retched, and Papyrus dimly hoped that it was his cooking. She could only sputter in disbelief as her mind tried to put together the pieces.

“Papyrus, that’s… That’s sick.”

“WE LOVE EACH OTHER, AND WANT TO SPEND THE REST OF OUR LIVES TOGETHER.”

She gagged again, guts shaking, a thick trail of saliva dangling from her mouth before hitting the floor.

“WE’RE GOING TO GET MARRIED, ONE DAY.”

She threw up, splattering the carpet in slurry while Papyrus recoiled in disgust.

That’s... a tad extreme.

“UNDYNE!”

Sans braced his hands to his skull. This wasn’t happening.

“LOOK--”

She grabbed her coat and left, stepping out into the porch, unable to process what she had heard, before turning around, sprinting back into the living room and grabbing Sans by the collar. Oh. She was going to kill him.

Good ending?

“You think you can force people to do whatever sick shit you want, huh? You think you can force Papyrus to do whatever the you want, freak?”

Dully, Sans noticed the spears manifest, but snapped back to awareness when Papyrus cleaved them out of the air with a whoosh of magic and a snap of bone.

“NOBODY,” he thundered, “IS FORCING ANYONE.”

“You don’t have to lie for him, you don’t--”

Papyrus stood his ground, squaring up, feet planted firmly and his stature looming.

“WE’RE IN LOVE, DEAL WITH IT OR LEAVE.”

A torrid mixture of pity and disgust swirling in her gut, she tossed Sans back to the couch and stormed out the front door, slamming it behind her and leaving them in silence. Papyrus released the breath he had been holding while Sans noted that yes, he was still alive, and yes, the shame was insurmountable. The room stunk of fresh bile, the acrid, foreign reek of vomit.

“... I DIDN’T THINK SHE WOULD ACTUALLY LEAVE.”

Hahahahahahaha who’s the audience stand-in now??

“yeah,” Sans scolded, more acquainted with the real world and thus how people usually react to such situation, “she did.”

“I ASSUMED SHE WOULD JUST… UNDERSTAND. LIKE WE DO.”

Sans said nothing, and Papyrus slowly sunk down to sit.

“OH NO.”

He scratched at the nape of his neck.

“OH NO. DO YOU… DO YOU THINK SHE WENT RIGHT HOME--?”

“i don’t know.”

Papyrus jolted, before setting out to get the vinegar. He had thirty minutes to kill until Undyne arrived home, and he wasn’t going to do it in a fog of regurgitated spaghetti. The motions would distract him. The act of making something clean.

In this fic?

Papyrus called, and she picked up on the first trill.

“HI, UNDYNE!”

Nothing.

“I, UM… WANTED TO TALK ABOUT EARLIER.”

Breathing. Oh good, she was there.

“I THOUGHT IT WAS BEST THAT YOU KNEW.”

The room was emptied of noise, and he could feel Sans’ gaze bore into him.

“I ONLY TOLD YOU BECAUSE YOU’RE MY BEST FRIEND. YOU DON’T HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. YOU DON’T HAVE TO LIKE IT. BUT PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T TELL ANYONE ELSE.”

Finally, a response.

“... I won’t tell anyone else.”

Hey look just once can I find a fucked-up fic to spork that isn’t somehow relevant to my life situation that’d be nice

I mean, what.

Papyrus could almost whoop, she was on board, she understood!

Would it come across as defensive if I pointed out that agreeing to some kind of “Don’t ask, don’t tell” situation doesn’t mean you understand? Or condone? Definitely not condone.

Hell, I don’t condone anything on this blog except improving your craft.

Love like this wasn’t wrong, it came with blood!

“OH, I’M SO, SO HAPPY YOU--”

He was cut off by the dialtone. His sentence trailed off.

Oh… A poor signal. No problem!

He rang her number again and it rang out before going to her answering machine.

git rekt

‘Heya, Undyne here! If you can’t get me, I’m--’

He hung up and tried again. Four rings, then to answering machine.

‘Heya, Undyne--’

He hung up, and tried again.

‘Heya, Undyne here! If you can’t get me, I’m either wailing on some punks, or in the shower! Scream your message down the phone, and I’ll get back to you later!’

He declined to do that.

“I JUST WANTED TO, UM… SAY THANK YOU. IT MUST HAVE BEEN QUITE THE SHOCK! SO THANK YOU FOR TAKING IT SO WELL.”

I’d like to know in which universe is vomiting all over the kitchen floor and then trying to kill someone ‘taking it so well’.

Then again I guess she didn’t actually kill him.

He left a pregnant pause hanging in the air, long enough for Undyne to pick up if she were in the room. She didn’t, so she wasn’t.

“I LOOK FORWARD TO TRAINING. SEE YOU!”

Another pause, just in case she had walked in. She must have went outside, to have not picked up for so long.

“BYE-BYE, UNDYNE!”

He hesitated, before hanging up, and staring at the phone in his hand. Sans was slumped on the couch.

“only thing i asked you to do.”

“SHE SAID SHE WOULDN’T TELL ANYONE.”

“one thing, papyrus.”

*insert “You had one job!” joke here*

Sans held his face in his hands, his face as locked in place as ever, his bones hanging where they fell.

“what the fuck’re we gonna do.”

“ARE YOU ASHAMED?”

I’m feeling second-hand shame just from having this in my search history, if that’s worth anything.

Sans looked at him, too upset for tears, lodged firmly in a miasmatic fog of ignominy. He then stared forward into nothingness. Papyrus tugged at his gloves, guilt setting in.

“SANS.”

“yeah?”

“DO YOU LOVE ME?”

♩ I’m your wife-

Wait. Wrong thing.

“yeah.”

“IN WHAT WAY--?”

“you happy?”

“... YES.”

Sans chuckled, low, dark, and humourless.

“then in whatever way you think.”

Papyrus made the decision to take that statement at face value, because good boys didn’t pry into things they couldn’t handle the answer to.

And... that’s the end of that.

You know... as I said, this is well-written. And it was intentionally written to be disturbing and to have a warped dynamic.

So why did I spork this, again?

Stupid ship, and disturbing subject matter - intentional or not! - is always welcome here. I’d spork my own fics if I could do so objectively. (And by own fics, I mean my recent uploads, since I have indeed sporked my own fics before.)

But yeah. That’s where this leaves us.

Content aside, a good fic, apart from some POV trip-ups and the author occasionally trying a bit too hard with the vocabulary.

Guess that’s it for today. I promise I get to those liveblogs before they turn into another The Classic Lit Week/Longer That Never Was.

Toodles!

#spork #airey #incest warning

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