#i think a lot of you'd like to hear about the book of movies references he mentioned

[watchmenanon]

"Charlie Heaton talks about his relationship with Noah Schnapp and his audition process for Stranger Things"

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Okay I've made enough posts about it I'm gonna actually write up my overall thoughts/recommendation for Ex Wives of Dracula. Real quick, since I haven't actually mentioned it up to this point, the basic premise of the story is that two former best friends reconnect in small town Texas, before one of them is brutally attacked and becomes a vampire.

Firstly, this is a book that plays with genre very effectively. You know how a lot of horror movies have one scene at the beginning of, like, normal high school bullshit before someone gets murdered? Imagine if a movie instead spent the first hour of it's runtime on a typical coming of age/romcom narrative with all the pacing and direction you'd expect from that genre, and then that scene happened. There's a real sense of genuine shock, a "oh my god this can't be happening. This kind of thing doesn't happen, right?" But it does. That first chapter of horror is very solidly written on its own, but it hits like a truck because of how normal everything has been up to that point. The rest of the book continues with that, ibterspacing its horror generously with normal life, and I found it to be pretty effective.

The book also has some very pointed critiques to make about small town culture, about how ugliness is allowed to fester because no one wants to rock the boat, and about how things like high school sports take on an outsized and overwhelming place in the collective consciousness, because what else do you have to be proud of? It's not unique stuff, but it's a take on it that rings very true in a way I haven't often seen.

The plot as a whole is pretty well executed - there are some very effective twists and surprises that never felt cheap or like they hadn't played fair with me. The core that holds it all together is the developing relationship between our main character Mindy and her long estranged, recently reconnected with best friend Lucia. I think the character writing is excellent - there's a lot of rawness and vulnerability and teenage defensiveness that is captured very well, and the way their relationship develops is messy, vulnerable, intense, and compelling. They are the beating heart of the story, and they sell it. That being said, I do think the climax and denouement are the weakest parts of the book, which really isn't ideal. They have some good stuff, but I feel like they're paced wrong and there are a few elements that aren't, like, at odds with what's come before, but that don't naturally follow from it either.

One last central element to this book is it's commitment to it's setting. This book focuses on the culture specific to 2015 conservative American high school, and if you either never knew or have forgotten how nasty that was, this book is going to punch you in the face with it. Expect an enormous amount of casual cruelty and blatant, thoughtless homophobia, transphobia, racism, fatphobia, xenophobia, and misogyny, along with nastiness towards people with eating disorders and basically every stripe of meanness or prejudice you can imagine. Speaking as someone who did go to a conservative high school in 2015, the recreation is spot on - there are even references to some specific rumors about celebrities that I remember hearing from my peers at the time - but it was jarring to hear so much casual cruelty injected into conversation by people who weren't even trying, that's just how people talked. So fair warning. As someone who grew up in that kind of environment, I found that it added extra depth to the central relationship; it was the exact kind of prejudice, internal and external, that I would've had to grapple with of I had pursued a queer relationship in high school. But I don't know how resonant that will be to people who don't share that lived experience.

On the whole, though, this is a book that I enjoyed, and one I would definitely recommend.

[small-strong-bookish-butch]

Thoughts on Nimona (because a good friend asked):

Source: me, an expert on the webcomic (joking)

Okay SO:

There is so much foreshadowing in the beginning of the movie, which technically also happens at the beginning of the book, with Nimona's little red drawings too, but somehow for me it was different to see it animated

Goleth in the book Is Not A Thing. Doesn't exist. There IS no "1,000 years ago the kingdom was cursed" stuff. They said Goleth and I mentally went "who the FUCK is Goleth??"

In the book/webcomic/graphic novel, Ambrosius is the one who cuts off Ballister's arm, on purpose. Yes, Ambrosius, the twink gay boyfriend guy. (Also, in the book they both have long hair)

It's not super important, but in the book there's a bank heist that they do complete together and it kind of sets the stage for everyone to realize Nimona is a shapeshifter and is with Blackheart

In the book, part of the 'framing the director' thing is that she & the government agency (or whatever it is) have this massive supply of jaderoot, which is like, this poisonous plant (more on that later)

I didn't fully understand that 'the Director' was like, basically the queen until I was literally watching the movie. I guess I understood her to be like, almost a head-security person? You really only see her in the book being like "guards! Capture Ballister!" or "the plan didn't work 😡"

OH. Very important. At the end of the book— in the part of the movie where they put all those spidey webs on Nimona and capture her— in the book, they bring her to.... basically an experiment lab, they put her in a tank with a lot of jaderoot and shock her and do all this torture stuff and they're basically like "Tell us how you got like this", and she talks about how she was cursed by a witch who gave her shapeshifting powers BUT they were very loose (in that she can transform into literally any animal/creature/etc) ("She wasn't a very good witch," she says)

On that note! If I remember right, basically her parents abandoned her after she became a shapeshifter (or maybe before?) and in the book, she did pillage and burn down villages in the meantime— which she references at the beginning of the movie, but it's never fully explained or expanded upon

There's this really good dialogue between Ballister and Nimona at the end of the book, which I don't think was in the movie-- where, Nimona is being tortured and they're using all the stuff to try to punish her for being 'a monster', and she says to Ballister, "You're not the only one who thought you could change me. Who thought you'd fix me until you saw who I really was" (or something like that, I'm blanking on the exact words right now), and it's at that point in the book where she turns into a little girl, and then turns really big and into that dark shadowy thing

Also, when she's a little girl, in between being different monsters (so to speak), in the book she looks at Ballister and says "You came back for me?" And he says "Of course I did"

There are references to Nimona "doing this before" in terms of being the 'monster', but there isn't the whole Goleth/chosen one backstory like there is in the movie

Nimona's voice doesn't sound like that To Me. In my head I always thought she'd be like, grittier and spunkier? She was almost like, trying too hard to be carefree and cool in the movie, IMO. Also, in the book, it is a thing where Ballister asks questions about her life and she gets Very Distracted by like, random weapons or different poisons or whatever

ALSO. This has been killing me because I don't fully remember, but. I think in the book, Nimona does almost certainly die or disappear... but there's also this really bittersweet panel with different red animals where Ballister is basically like 'Sometimes I hope you're out there and that I'll see you again someday'. And in the movie she DIED-died and I don't think she deserved that, honestly

Thank you for asking @grayscale-kaleidoscope <3 I'd love to hear your thoughts on the movie too

[watermeloncholycucumbersome]

Day 53 of Writing Something Everyday

(365 Day Challenge)

You were the only one who truly cared

about my writing,

Now without you it just seems like I'm forcing it.

Is this a waste of time, should I stop?

I miss you so much, how you encouraged me.

Our stupid goofy talks and made up songs we'd sing.

It's so quiet in this house without you,

And the child playing in the apartment upstairs seems louder than ever.

I'm trying to do things that we didn't do together so I have something different,

But the shitty part is that everything I do no matter what it is reminds me of you.

I think of what you'd say when I watch something or read something.

I think of what you'd say while I'm painting,

"Can I see when you're done?"

Waking up is the worst and going to sleep is harder.

The ghost of you lingers here and it's hard to ignore even though I know it isn't you.

I wish I could give you a hug,

I'd give anything to make you a tea again.

I don't use the kettle much now, it's just a decoration in the kitchen.

Reading the Bible is hard,

I read all five chapters alone instead of us taking turns,

I'd give anything for you to interrupt my reading to ask me a question about what we just read, to hear you ask my opinion or have someone to ask anything.

I keep expecting this to be a dream and I'll wake up and be able to tell you everything that's happened.

That they leave you hours on the floor when you die until the coroner comes.

That you have to clean up the mess, not them.

How coroner's are even weirder than they depict them to be in movies and they smell weird.

And that the people who cremate you are even weirder when you talk to them.

That every single movie and tv show seems to be about death or murder.

Even the cab driver on my way home from the cremation place was listening to a murder mystery audio book.

That when you give CPR to someone who's already gone it feels different, like when you've drank half a can of pop and poke the side of the can in only for it to pop back out.

Or the roof of an old car if you lean on it too much it indents and pops back out.

And the sound.....

That the officer that stayed with me looked like he was the missing character from Napoleon Dynamite, he had a badass 'stache.

That everyone around you tells you they are there for you, yet when you ask for help they act like you're speaking a foreign language and can't understand you.

How I called to sign myself in for treatment but called back to cancel it and I will call back again.

That the word "awww" should only be used when referring to an adorable puppy or baby...Not the loss of your mother.

That your empty hospital bed at home scares me but I don't know what to do.

That I have to take Melatonin and Tylenol hours before bed just to fall asleep as it's like my eyelids are forever stuck open.

That I heard a lady hysterically laughing on the side of the road and yelling at people and it freaked me out and everyone else on the street too I think.

That I bought two records and started my record collection again, that I found a cool shop that isn't that expensive and the people are nice.

That the neighbours don't know anything happened I don't think, they either don't know or don't care as nobody's said anything to me.

I just sit in the apartment and cry a lot now.

I miss you so much,

Sabbath is coming up and this will be my first Sabbath completely without you,

Your birthday after that will be harder.

I miss you so much Mom.

~Jenni

[httpiastri]

congrats on the milestone!! could i pretty please ask for a “let it snow” ship with an f1 boy?

so, i’m a panromantic asexual person, and my gender is… weird (😅), because really I think gender is an odd social construct and I don’t really care what people refer to me as. I’m also autistic, and some of my special interests include musical theatre, books, true crime, superheroes, and mythology of all different kinds and cultures. I don’t get the opportunity to talk about my special interests a lot, but once I do, you’ll have a hard time getting me to stop talking.

as for hobbies, I spend most of my time either reading or writing fanfiction (and sometimes original short stories), listening to music, and watching movies or tv shows. I mostly like all kinds of music, but I’m not really the biggest fan of rap. I’m also really into true crime podcasts, and I have a love for older tv shows, such as m*a*s*h and the a-team, as well as all the marvel and dc movies and tv shows. I’m also a pretty decent singer, at least depending on who you ask. i really love books, and my ultimate career goal is to be a librarian (although if you asked me my absolute dream job, the answer would be a voice actor). i’m also a half-decent singer, at least depending on who you ask.

personality-wise, i kind of cycle between being bubbly and cheerful and quieter and shyer (a textbook ambivert, me), but no matter what, i always do my best to be a good listener and to make my friends happy, because I am very loyal and I love them a lot.

can’t wait to see who you ship me with, and congrats again! 💕

thank you sweets!! 💓 i ship you with daniel ricciardo!! why do i feel like he would get really into your interests and excited with you too? he would love to hear you talk about mythology, books, theatre, and so on. i also see him as someone who too would enjoy true crime, he'd be so amazed when you tell him about your favorite cases (that sounds bad but i think u get what i mean) and he would love to listen to like true crime pods in the car or while cuddling together in bed.

your bubbly and cheerful side would fit perfectly with his, and you'll always find happiness and excitement in each other, plus you'd be great at helping the other up again when either of you feel down. as the extrovert he is, you'll have to help him out to chill out and take things a bit calmer than he's used to. reading to him, singing to him, just taking care of him and letting him know it's perfectly fine to relax and just feel at ease.<3

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

BRING ON THE NOVEL!!! Oh, I love your responses to my questions BECAUSE they're always so in-depth and informative, and I just drink it up because it's SO GOOD! I love the amount of thought you put into your answers, I can see the passion plain and simple, and it gives me a lot of food for thought for my own interpretation of Grima, so thank you!!

hahaha I'm glad you enjoy them! I love answering questions about him, so it's always a joy to see one in the inbox.

It's really fun thinking through what we know from the various canon sources (granted I don't really go into unfinished tales, save for the Grima-Nazgul-Face-Off reference [Grima loses]) and logicing out what we can from it. Then, of course, just making shit up. Love that sweet, sweet world building.

But I'm always curious to hear what other people think! I love seeing different interpretations and what people run with, given that we're all working with the same, rather limited, base material.

And lolol yes. Grima's type is absolutely "can they kill me with their bare hands and I wouldn't stand a chance? yes? excellent."

Re: Eowyn and Grima - I've always much preferred Eowyn in the books (pre-Faramir personality change up) to Eowyn in the movies, because Eowyn in the books is a stone cold bitch with a bit of ruthlessness in her (aside from her being obvioulsy high-hearted as Hama says, and generous - she is beloved by her people for a reason) and I am here for Grima simping after her and she's like "What is this? did I trod on a cockroach?" and Grima is like "please trod again my lady" etc. etc.

With Eomer it's basically the same dynamic plus the added benefit of Eomer being able to do the slinging-over-a-shoulder-like-a-sack-of-spuds. Not that Eowyn's a light-weight, she's not, but it's more just a bit of a larger size difference and it makes for a funnier visual. Granted Eowyn would win the yearly Husband-Carrying competition. She doesn't have a husband for them, of course, so she just picks the biggest guy she can find who isn't married or whose wife can't enter for whatever reason and carries him through the ridiculous course that's been set up. (It's Hama most years, they're a great team. If not him then Grimbold.)

One year she had to skip it because she was down with flu and everyone was pleased because it meant there was a chance for someone else to win. Grima offered to go in her place and she was a little tempted by it, if only to have some rep at the game and he's built like her so it's a bit of a fair switch, but she ended up turning it down. ("You'll die. Hama will squish you. It's a prospect I'm not adverse to, save that it means you'd lose in my name." "My lady, I'm the youngest of many brothers, I'm used to being at the bottom of the dog-pile. I'll be fine." "...yes. yes you would have been at the bottom." "Anyway, I've a few tricks up my sleeve." "No. Cheating." "Just think about it, my lady." "No. Cheating.")

I think Grima also has a bit of a hard-on for competency and so that's where the intellect and confidence come in. Which, when I write Eomer/Grima, it's Eomer showing up and being very good at his job, and his cousin's future-job, that has Grima going "oh no. There are stirrings and they shouldn't be stirring."

Grima carrying Eomer for the husband-carrying competition is objectively hilarious. It's not about roles or anything, because that's a nonsense, it's just something funny to do of a summer afternoon. I feel like he's surprisingly strong for a man who avoids physical labour as much as possible. That said, he'd be dead for the next four days after the competition. ("You broke every part of me, Eomer." "...isn't that what you're into?" "Not quite like this. I can't move my arms above my head.")

Anyway. Now I've become distracted with Rohan's left-of-centre highland games (Eomer would be stellar at log tossing. Grima runs a betting ring on it every year and somehow makes a killing despite everyone knowing the odds. Eomer keeps trying to get him to not fiddle the books but it never works).

Thank you so much for the asks! I love this stupid, greasy snake man and any chance to natter on about him is a blessing. <3 <3

[moveslikeanape]

yeah that's totally fine, i'll follow you back now as well! i hope you don't mind that i post about a lot of things other than disney movies haha. though my url happens to be the name of a character from twisted wonderland, a disney game that i like a lot. when you mentioned hunchback of notre dame being one of your favorite disney movies, i thought about how twisted wonderland actually has references to HoND in it--but sadly, nothing tarzan related. i found out about what mark henn said from this link if you'd like to read it, there's some additional info in here as well and it's all a bit sad to hear, but really interesting: https://www.cartoonbrew.com/studios/retired-disney-legend-mark-henn-work-had-been-more-meaningful-236985.html

i agree that disney songs definitely shouldn't be written with the intention that people will hear them before seeing the movie! i know some people do like to listen to the soundtracks of new disney movies before they see them, but i've actually always tried my best not to do that or hear any of the songs ahead of time because i prefer being surprised by them. so when i saw wish, all i'd heard was the snippet of "this wish" that was played in the trailers, and during the scene where at all costs played i was honestly so confused about the context of it that it was a little distracting. disney music should immerse you in the story and tell you something about the characters, not distract you because the situation the song is being used for doesn't seem to make sense...

oh yeah, i've heard that about the atlantis book! there's a blog on wordpress i found recently who did really detailed reviews of the different disney art books and they mentioned all of that about the atlantis one. i agree it's a huge shame, that movie seems to have such a fascinating world and i'd love to be able to learn more about it. another thing that disappoints me is there being no book for the emperor's new groove at all, though on the bright side at least the documentary for that movie is available online.

oh no, that must be so frustrating to keep missing out on getting to see the tarzan broadway show! i hope you get a chance to see it someday, and that you enjoy it when you do. i'll definitely have to find the time one of these days to at least listen to the cast recording myself. it's so interesting that it's popular in germany but not here... i wonder why that could be. i love that jane gets her own song, though. she's my favorite character from the movie (though of course i also love tarzan himself!) and i always thought it would be nice to have just a bit more insight into what she's thinking and feeling.

i remember reading that with rafiki, the director wanted to gender-swap him as well as give nala more focus because she thought the movie didn't have a strong enough leading female role. so i really do wonder why they'd change terk back into a guy, because something i always liked about the movie is the variety of different female characters in the movie between her, jane, and kala! and terk is really cool and unique for how she ended up breaking gender roles, but then you lose that element in the broadway show. if you do find anything about why they made that change i'd love to know.

No worries, mine is kind of a mix of Disney and cats, with random other stuff I like thrown in. Thanks for following back!

Ooo, I'd heard of Twisted Wonderland, but never really looked into it. Will have to check it out!

Just read that article, and wow, that is so sad! I can't imagine how hard it must've been to see things go downhill like that, a having his ideas taken like that?! Poor guy.

I think Disney needs to slow down a moment and and look into their own history to see what they're supposed to be about. Thinking about how they try to put out so much so fast, and how they seem more invested in their acquired properties than original ideas. How important quality was to Walt, to the point that he nearly bankrupted the company on several occasions just for the sake of quality. Now it's all about the money… making money for the shareholders is far more important to them that making something they can actually be proud of.

That sounds like a really interesting blog! I think they kind of fell away from art books (and other merch in general) as the movies began "under performing". Such a shame because the early 2000s had such incredible and daring movies, and they basically got swept under the carpet.

Thank you! Someday I'll get to see it. If you get the chance to listen to the cast recording, please let me know what you think! I was talking to a friend in Germany, and she said the country just seems to like Tarzan in general, so maybe it's just a love of the character in any form that made it work there. I'm with you on Jane. I would have been so sad if she didn't get one. She actually has a song to herself, the duet with Tarzan, and a duet with Porter!

Kerchak also got his own song (as well as a duet with Kala). They really expanded Kerchak's character and I absolutely love them for that. While you understand his motives in the movie, they dig deeper in the musical, and make him a more rounded and sympathetic character.

That makes sense about Rafiki and expanding Nala (especially given lions are actually matriarchal). I'll have to dig out my Tarzan Broadway book and see if it says anything about Terk. I'm guessing because they took away Tantor and they figure people would be more able to accept Tarzan having a male friend.

[lukowrites]

Back in the saddle/did you miss me/sequel

Same taste, different package! Playing in the sandbox, sometimes you get the urge to eat the dirt. I think it's ok in moderation. Anyway, we're back folks. Straight from the oubliette comes the voice you're dying to hear, it's the one and only it's me. Brain decided to switch to ON mode so here we are. Ego depletion and so forth. Let's get right into it.

I watched the movie Don Verdean last night. There was something about the pacing that inspired me. Like Bukowski, the idea I think with this movie is that every scene and sentence is interesting as a standalone piece, regardless of how it fits into the overall plot. Bukowski called it the JUICE. Often times people struggle with a lack of familiarity in their stories, the formulaic shit people are groomed to watch and read from infancy is what sells, same with pandering to entrenched beliefs. An easy to follow act 1/2/3. Music, dialogue, and camerawork that tells you how to think, that forces a narrative. Snarky clapbacks and quips, inclusivity, explosions, violence, swearing, drugs, food, rainbow squishy ASMR slime, sexy sex, ring the bell, salivate, stimulate. I think this is why people generally lack the patience for movies or stories that don't lead to big satisfying conclusions that scratch the itch they've needlessly let intensify. Dan Brown said that story writing comes with a promise of a satisfying end, that you and the reader sign a contract that states that if you give me your attention, I must submit to your expectations of what constitutes a good story (basically equates subversion with cuckoldry). I disagree, it's this handholding bullshit that narrows our imaginations. True, you shouldn't have to contend with a springed spider jumping out at you in every book, but you shouldn't let your assumptions get in the way of an experience that will likely broaden your horizons more than something formulaic will.

Nothing motivates me to write more than other writers (because they are shit). - Bukowski

Don Verdean's a comedy made by the guy who did Napoleon Dynamite, which also suffered critically (albeit less, especially in hindsight) for the same reasons. While you can say the humor isn't quite your cuppa tea, or you don't get the references, and that's fair, there's honesty to it that you don't see in most movies. Examples: The music doesn't swell up at emotional moments (there's almost no music if any that I can recall). At first glance, judging from the silly attire and zany characters/evangelical setting you'd think these people are all caricatures of grifters, trying to fuck each other over, but as the movie goes on you see the humanity in their motivations as the characters are laid bare. You even see Don's subtle cry for help briefly in one scene, the chapter and verse hanging on the door of his mobile home.

James 1:8 - Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do.

There's one less than subtle scene where Don says to himself that he only wants to bring people to Jesus, that's why he does all this, but you don't even need that, you see his world, warts and all. He lives in a mobile home despite having his own ministry. He has an understanding of history, referencing Bacon's fabled stash in Nova Scotia. He knows the historical areas around Israel. He understands the laws that gatekeep archeology. You think to yourself watching it, man this guy is really putting a lot of effort into a grift like this, he's not keen to step it up with Boaz and make tonnes of cash, so what keeps him going? He's either one of the most Machiavellian parasites ever, funneling his talents into running an evangelical ministry to get his ego trip (this is possible, but doesn't fit with his demeanor, and really doesn't seem like much of a payoff for the work), or he actually thinks he can run a positive psyop. It's silly but believable enough for a comedy.

So going back to motivation, I think I see where freewriting and a lack of formative training can lead to quality. I want to focus on the JUICE, and from there honesty should bubble forth.

[darkacademicfrom2021]

Break.

Request by @lucywrites02 (If you find some time could you write a fic about reader being really stressed about their exams and Loki saying something mean and then they break down and Loki has no idea what's happening but then tries to help the reader? It can be a headcanon or a one shot)

N/A: It do be like that sometimes. Unfortunately I think we can all relate to this state of mind. Hope this helps alliviate the tension a bit. Remember to take care of yourself; health is more important than grades.

Warnings: anxious thoughts, mentions of suicide attempt (the Bifrost thing from Loki), angst. Happy ending.

Word count: 2.3 K

(Taglist: @lucywrites02, @louieboo87, @jesuswasnotawhiteman)

You organized your folders once again, hoping the cleaner desk would give you some motivation to keep going. It didn’t, but you stayed. Your stomach growled and it hinted you to look at the clock. Oh, no. Five in the morning? But you barely started. You still had so many things to do before dawn.

You got up and stretched your legs and back. Your eyelids, heavier than ever, were not helping at all. Your mind was still everywhere, and you had to keep your head distracted to not think in the thousand things you still couldn’t get done. The mere thought of that made you shiver, almost throwing you into a spiral of anxious thoughts. You shook your head off and walked to the bathroom. Splashing some cold water in your face, you stood in front of the mirror. Eyebags that made you more similar to a racoon gave you the idea of making some more coffee. At that time you'd already forgotten you were going to get some food; your head was so full it couldn't even retain basic information.

As silently as you could, you walked down to the kitchen of the compound. You brought your books with yourself. Couldn’t waste some other five or ten minutes, couldn’t you? Filling the kettle and putting it on the fire, you got distracted watching the shapes of the fire.

“Zoned out?”, inquired Loki behind you. You jumped, frightened.

“What are you doing up so early?”, you asked.

“What are you doing up so late?”. You pointed at the books and he nodded. “You’re still with those things”.

“Want some coffee?”.

“No, thanks. I think I’m gonna try to sleep on the couch”.

He moved to the living room area and opened a book, laying down on the nearest couch. It all looked so cozy, so comfortable. You redirected your gaze to your cup of coffee and academic books, waiting for you to fry your head a little (a lot) more. Oh, how much you would’ve loved to take a break, sit in there with a fiction book and a warm mug of hot cocoa, wrapped up in… no. Don’t do this. Don’t torture yourself like that.

You probably shouldn’t have been drinking coffee. Your heart was already going abnormally fast, product and cause of the anxiety you were accumulating. But you did, trying to get your eyes opened. The table you settled in was confronting the living room area, and Loki observed you read and write incessantly in those big piles of books and papers.

You didn’t hear his footsteps. Out of nowhere he appeared behind you, reading the pages that were troubling you so much. You jumped once again. He was distracting you, you were tired and stressed, and, as if it weren’t enough, your heart was going to explode with all those frightens he was giving you.

“Are you going on the next…?”.

“Loki, I can’t give you attention right now”, you cut him off as kindly as you could. Your voice was slightly broken, so you swallowed and hid it. You two weren’t close enough to actually explain to him you were about to drown if you kept getting distracted from the assignments.

“I don’t need your attention”, he scoffed, slightly offended. “Not a puppy you have to play with”.

“Alright. Can you leave?”.

He sighed and went back to the couch. After about half an hour, your head fell to the pages and gave your brain the pause it so hardly needed. About an hour later, everyone on the compound was up and having breakfast around you, waking you up with the noises.

“Y/n, what are you doing sleeping in here?”, asked Thor. “What are all those things you have in there?”.

“Those things, brother, are books. They are for reading and gaining knowledge, I’m certain you haven’t heard of them before”, mocked Loki, gaining a chuckle from you. “It’s not like you seem to be gaining much either, though”, told you, referring to your nap.

“I was exhausted, but I’m...”.

“Mortals are such weakies”, he said, getting up and serving himself a cup of tea. “They read three pages and already get tired of using their little brains”.

You knew he was kidding, for he had told you many times before he considered you one of the brightest youngsters he had ever encountered. But you couldn’t look at the big picture right now. Your head was still overwhelmingly loud with fears, tiredness, stress. The only sight of that pile of books made you shiver, realizing how little time you had to study. And Loki was right. You felt yourself so stupid, so weak. No matter how hard you worked and overworked yourself, you couldn’t get the damn things done right.

A knot in your throat gave you the hint to leave. The last thing you needed was to cry in front of them. You went back to your room, not without another cup of coffee before. So, you grabbed your things as fast as you could and ran to the kitchen. You hadn’t noticed Loki had followed you, thinking it was alright to mock; play around. You weren’t exactly friends, but enjoyed each other’s teasing every once in a while. He thought it’d cheer you up, or make you laugh.

“Hey”, he said behind you, and you jumped once again, dropping your mug to the floor. It got smashed to pieces. “Oh, what a clumsy little human”. You chuckled at his comment, containing a sob. He read it as if it was alright to keep teasing you, so he did. “I’d say you’re dumb because of not sleeping, but you generally just are like this”.

You didn’t answer, but your heart ached. You weren’t in the mood for his tough-love, so you rolled your eyes, sighed, and tried to pick up the pieces of broken ceramic. He didn't look satisfied with your silence. You'd usually insult him back, and laugh together.

“Your hair’s gross. Have you showered at all?” he said once again, touching the tip of one strand of your hair. You haven’t, you didn’t have time. You didn’t answer, and instead blushed. “Careful, don’t touch that sink, you might get a reaction”.

“What?”.

“Since you’re allergic to water”.

“Out of all the mean things you can say you go for my poor hygiene?”.

“Would you like me to stop insulting your appearance and instead go for anything else? I have a long list”.

“Just… leave me alone”.

“Oh, come on. You’re not gonna keep trying to understand what you so clearly can’t?”, he said while you were leaving with all your stuff, and you stood in place, facing the door. You were so, so glad you were backwards, because then he would’ve seen you tear up.

He was joking, he was just playing around. But going for that just in your worst moments? That was plain mean. You shook your head, he didn’t know, you’ve never said a thing about your stress, and he didn’t see how overworked and overwhelmed you were. He didn't know that was one of your biggest insecurities.

“I’d say you give up already. There are certain things dummies like you simply can’t achieve”, he continued. He had no idea, so he just kept going, hoping to get a reaction. A laugh, a chuckle or a “fuck you”. Even a punch. Any of the reactions he would usually get from you. But he didn’t expect what followed, at all.

You sobbed. One sob, just sharp and loud enough for him to have heard it. He stopped dead on his tracks. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t move either. He saw how you tilted your head, facing the floor, and dropped a tear. He immediately walked to you and grabbed both of your hands, facing you.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of those things, dear”, he softened his voice. “I was just joking around”.

“Yes, I know. Don’t worry, it’s just that I’m very stressed”, was what you tried to say. Instead, your sobs turned into a full blown cry. Your face went red from embarrassment, and anger, and stress, and tiredness, and it all just became too much for you to bear alone. Loki sensed it and hugged you tightly, pressing your head against his chest and hushing you tenderly.

“What happened? Is someone ill?”, he whispered, and you felt even more stupid, because you were crying over grades and papers. Not real things, like you used to think to diminish your stress and pack up all your feelings in a tiny bottle. But the tiny bottle became too tiny for your big feelings, and it finally exploded. You still couldn’t talk. Tears running down your face, you were hugging Loki back, hiding your face on him.

“Nobody’s ill, don’t worry”, you managed to say after a while. He nodded.

“I worry about you. Come, let me get you comfortable”, he said in your ear, and lifted you up carefully. You chuckled in between sobs. An emotional roller coaster. He carried you to his bedroom (and ignored the weird looks and stares from everyone else, because, let’s be honest; that was an unusual sight), and made you sit in his bed, wrapping you up in a weighted blanket (oh, you loved those).

He left for less than a minute and came back with a steaming cup of tea, some chocolate, and a few CDs. He sat in the bed by your side and gave you the cup. You wiped some tears away, and with trembling hands left the tea carefully over the bedside table and went for another hug. He wrapped himself around you, as a second blanket, and caressed your hair and neck with his cold fingers until your sobs stopped and you finally calmed down.

After a while, he cupped your face and looked at you very closely. Too close, even. Gave you a comforting look, with a warmth on his eyes you have never seen on anyone before.

“Better?”, he whispered.

“A bit, yeah”.

“Want to talk it out? Movie marathon? Chocolate?”.

You smiled and blushed a bit, again.

“Sorry, I’m just… really stressed. I thought I could manage better, but… this is just not it”.

“School?”.

“You must think I’m an idiot”.

“No way”, he assured you, frowning. “You know what I think of you. You’re incredibly smart”.

“I’m not, I’m doing so poorly on my exams and assignments, and…” you tried to explain, and the overwhelming weight of everything fell on your chest again. Your eyes watered.

“You’re overworking yourself too much, darling. You need to take a day off, or two”.

“I have no time, I won’t get anything done”.

“Well, you certainly won’t get anything done in this breakdown state of mind”, he said as tenderly as he could. He was right, and you sighed. You started fidgeting nervously with your fingers, tearing your cuticles. Almost as a reflex act, he grabbed your hands and caressed them so you would stop hurting them. “You humans run around the entirety of your lives. You spend it all running, speeding, not taking time to feel enough, to be rested and fulfilled enough”, he started saying, rocking you back and forth “you think you don’t have enough time, but for what?”.

“To do all the things I want”.

“And those are…? Careers to do? Places to visit? They all come to the same thing, love”.

“Feeling well?”.

“Yes”, he nodded. Your throat tightened once again, but this time out of relief. You really needed to hear this. “If you feel well doing these things, you won’t feel you’re wasting time once you finally rest. I’ve lived a thousand years. Do you think I always wanted to spend my life doing the same things?”.

“Well, no”.

“But it all came to the same thing when I thought I died”.

“You... what?”.

“I was on the Bifrost, about to fall. I wanted to feel good, to feel accepted, to feel loved by the people I loved”.

“It’s all we want at the end. I guess I overwork myself to make them proud”.

“I did too. And at the end, even when I tried my hardest, I couldn’t make them proud”.

“Oh God”, you said. He was still hugging and caressing you, as if the story he was telling didn’t affect him anymore. “And you…”.

“I threw myself off it”, he stated. You stopped and looked at him.

“Oh”.

“But”, he brought back to your hands the cup of tea “I survived. Even then, I kept thinking through the fogged lenses of doing something big for a future purpose, not paying any mind to my actual motivations”.

“How do you feel now?”.

“You know, if I wouldn’t have survived, I wouldn’t taste this amazing cup of tea” he said, sipping a bit from the cup still in your hands and bringing it to his cheek, warming him up. “And I wouldn’t be able to watch all these movies with you. And I would’ve missed all the Midgardians books I’ve read on Earth. And I wouldn’t have met anyone on here. And maybe, even looking closer, I wouldn’t have pushed all your buttons to break down so you would still be bottling up your stress and maybe even have had a heart attack and died unhappy and unfulfilled”.

“Wow there”. You both laughed. You rested your head on his lap and he watched you with a glimpse of a smile.

“What I’m trying to say is, take it one step at a time. Look at the big picture. Enjoy the process. All those things you midgardians say so often, they have almost lost all meaning. They sound cliché. They shouldn’t; for they are very true”.

“Thank you, Loki”, you sighed and started braiding one strand of his hair.

“Now go take a bath or something, stinky”. You both laughed. It was all fine.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 22

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Tag: @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The next few weeks went by in utter bliss.

The days after the pitch presentation with the marketing team were spent shooting the models in Sam's building. When Bucky told me you'd had assistants for the shoot, you thought that he was just joking or just wanted to make you feel better but you knew now to believe everything he would tell you. It was the first time you'd had people help you work; the first time you had to order people around. You had people working for the lights, reflectors, fans, backdrops, wardrobe, and make-up. You also had people sitting behind two large desktops connected to your new camera to skim over the photos. You would head over there for every five minutes to look at the photos and if you found something that could work better, you'd have another round with the models.

Considering it was the first time you've handled professional models and athletes in photoshoots, you did excellent and handled everything smoothly. Even Sharon knew it, giving you a small reassuring smile from time to time.

Speaking of Sharon, she actually helped you with the models' wardrobe, and got every new clothing from their inventory, making sure everything and everyone were photographed. She was still walking around with her clipboard close to her chest. She never walked the grounds without it.

Sam would go in and out from time to time. With the other matters he had in his hands, countless partnership meetings on-site and online, it was understandable.

But you knew he trusted me in this. After all, you were partners in this project.

Meanwhile, Bucky had made himself comfortable watching you from the corner of the studio. He made himself too comfortable watching you the whole time you were working that the models thought he was planning something heinous. You laughed them off and told them you were dating.

"Isn't he too old for you?" One model had asked.

"Doesn't really matter to me." You turned your head and glanced at Bucky, his eyes glistening as he stared at you. You bit your lip and faced the model. "Plus, he's hot. I would be crazy not to jump on that."

If only Nat could hear you, you knew she'd be proud.

Even though the two-day shoots were brutal, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you. More when you finally had to do post-production the following week which meant editing the photos.

As promised, you spent your break time over at Bucky's penthouse, naked in his living room, his master bedroom, the kitchen, and his home office. Your legs would be trembling during the shoot but you persevered. You didn't want Bucky to see you weak while working, even though it turned him on. It wasn't helping that he was watching you the whole time. You couldn't see him but you always felt his eyes on you.

The Falcons' new release was set to be launched a month and a half later, just weeks after Bucky's birthday (I'll get to Bucky's birthday in a bit, 'cause that was a whole other thing kept at the back of my mind, you thought). There were still a lot of things happening with advertising and marketing such as the new website, and pages on social media platforms and new packaging.

After the project with Sam, your paycheck came one Monday morning in the mail. Peter kept asking you how much you were paid but you never told him because if you did, he'd let you pay the next six month's rent — and that wasn't even just for your half. It would be for the both of you. You would gladly pay of course, seeing that he's helped you enough financially but you wanted to invest this money to earn more. The paycheck wouldn't stop there, of course. Sam would still pay you if your photos ever get on billboards across any city or when he opens up a new branch.

Sam referred you to a couple more guys he knew. One who needed to photograph models for a skincare brand he'd been rebranding for the past couple of weeks and one who needed to photograph paintings to be sold online. They weren't as big as Sam's business but were big enough in the industry. The production of both were still in the talk.

The next day, you and Bucky went studio hunting downtown. Obviously, your little home studio wasn't fit for incoming clients and this was surely an investment you couldn't pass upon. After renting and earning more profit, you figured you could move into another studio and buy it; a permanent place where you could freely work.

While studio hunting, Bucky insisted to buy the place that you wanted — or better yet, buy a much bigger place so you wouldn't have to move to another studio. But you've already made up your mind. You told him you wanted to do this your own way, with the money you've earned. After signing the contract and lease with your name on it, Bucky hugged you from behind. The property agent eyed you.

"At least let me buy you something, doll." He whispered in your hair as soon as you were left alone. You stood at the center of the empty office, overlooking the busy streets of New York City through the glass walls.  "Please."

You met his arms with your hands, pulling him closer. You leaned on his chest, sighing at the comfort his arms gave you. "Even if I tell you no, I know you're still going to do it."

"You're damn right. Do you have anything in mind you might like?"

You turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Surprise me."

He chewed his inner cheeks before dipping his head to yours, your lips meeting each other. "Oh, I definitely will."

The next day, a whole studio setup filled the used-to-be-empty studio. Complete with backdrops, lights, light boxes, and reflectors. In your new office was a fully furnished desk, complete with a desktop setup where you could edit photos.

You looked at him with wide eyes, ready to lecture him that this was all too much and that you definitely made it clear that you wanted to do all of this by yourself.

Bucky had caught your expression early on, scared that you might have our first argument.

"Before you say anything, this wasn't all me. I figured out a loophole on how I could buy you the things you need for this studio and at the same time, still make you like me and would still make you want to rip my clothes off."

"What did you do this time, James?"

"All of this," he said, gesturing to all the equipment in the studio, "was both me and Sam. Think of it as an investment. If you can get more work and clients, then you can keep everything but if you can't, we'll pull them all out. When you afford to buy everything here, only then can you pay us. This little string here," he pointed to the both of you, "is just business."

You looked at him in disbelief. "Just business?"

He bit his lip. "Okay, maybe a bit of pleasure too."

"A bit?"

"Maybe a whole lot." He shrugged.

"And the whole idea was... just you?"

"Just me, sweetheart. Plain James Buchanan Barnes. You get me, you get the whole package."

"And besides money what will you get out of this little investment idea of yours?"

"I have little care about the money, honestly." He said. "But I'm doing all this for you and you is all I care about."

"You're damn lucky I like you, James."

"Like me enough to have some hot sex right here, right now?"

You smirked, pressing your crotch against his, teasing him. "I get the whole package, right?"

Bucky took you from behind. Your tight skirt hiked up to your waist. Your tits bouncing against the fabric of the beige curtains, your hands gripping them as hard as you could as Bucky thrusted himself hard and deep behind you, his hands either on your hips, your hair, your neck or your breasts. And as you both finished, the curtain rod broke in half, making you and Bucky topple on the ground, the huge curtains falling down on your bodies. The bright sun radiating across the room, the view of the streets startling you.

Laughter filled the room as you stared at each other. The look of exhaustion still evident in your faces and body.

"You're buying me new curtains." You breathed out.

"Me?" He chuckled. "You're the one who pulled them off!"

"The reason why was you."

"I have a better idea."

"I doubt that."

"We should just get these windows tinted." He smirked under the curtains and rolled over towards you, his arms wrapped around your waist. "That way we could just ravish each other in front of this goddamn city without anyone ever seeing us. How does that sound, doll?"

You hummed, brushing your nose against his. "Tempting."

"Is that a yes?"

You shrugged, pulling away from him. "You have to convince me more, Mr. Barnes."

"Oh babydoll, you're gonna regret saying those words."

The following weeks with Bucky was all you could ever ask for but it was getting harder and harder to hide all of this from Peter. Your time together was spent in the confines of Bucky's expensive penthouse when he wasn't in meetings and when you weren't busy finishing the setup in your new studio.

All day you'd cuddle up, watch movies, read books, and just talk more about the beauty and perils of life.

You couldn't go out that much because you couldn't risk Peter or any of Peter's friends to see you and Bucky around. When you visited the bar one day and told Nat all about it, she told you to go to places Peter and any of his friends will never be at.

"Besides, isn't Peter always working?" She asked as you sat down on the booth.

"We still don't want to risk it."

"So, go with my plan."

"Hey," you said, finally thinking her idea was a good one, "how's it going with Steve?"

She shrugged, chewing on her lower lip. You eyed her suspiciously. "Uh-oh, what's wrong?"

"It's still good but..." she paused, her eyes strained. "He's been acting strange lately."

"Isn't he always?" You chuckled. "You may not notice this 'cause you're sleeping with him but he's a bit peculiar for a man his age. Always cramped up in that little office of his. Seriously, how on earth do you have sex in there?"

"I'm bendy, bitch."

"Never should've asked." You mumbled, getting the picture of Nat, well, bending, out of your head.

"Anyway," she sighed, "it's just... he's acting really weird. I can't even begin to explain it. I think something happened."

"Do you think it's about you two?"

"I doubt that." She frowned. "I just know it's something else."

"You want me to talk to him? I'm like a little sister to him." You replied. "Sorta. It's a weird dynamic, I know."

"Sure, if you ever catch him in the office. He's barely even here."

You nodded, taking the new information in. "Now, that's a whole level of weird for Steve."

"Maybe he's just having problems with the bar or something." You shrugged.

"If he did, he'd be here in the bar. I tried talking to him but he says he's just fine. I don't know, I'm just letting him be. It's not like we're in a relationship."

You and Nat talked a bit more about Steve right before her shift started. Then the next day, you gave Bucky a map and marked all the places you could go to without risking being seen. Brooklyn was the only place Peter would never go to. You thought about Queens but May, Peter's aunt, lives around that area.

Brooklyn was no Upper West or Upper East side but it didn't matter to you or to Bucky. You had each other; just the two of us — in the restaurant & lounge, movie theater (where we always end up making out), Barnes & Noble, local coffee shops (where we read the books we've bought), and in the streets of Brooklyn. Strolling hand in hand, stealing kisses on every empty corner, and you taking photos and videos of the beautiful landscape, and the beautiful man who managed to steal your heart.

All the rendezvous with Bucky felt like you were a married woman having an affair — without the secret handwritten letters.

But everything was in place and your heart was full. It was so full it could almost explode.

Spending all the time in his penthouse, in Brooklyn and your studio made me miss your rooftop. A place you've claimed yours and Bucky's; a place he'd claimed you his, and he, yours. You wished we could just go there freely, without having to worry Peter seeing you together doing unspeakable things to one another.

And yes, telling Peter was getting much harder as the month went by.

Back in the Upper West Side, nothing much was going on in the bar. You barely see Steve (though according to Nat, he comes in the bar every now and then), Nat was still Nat of course (and nothing much had changed in whatever was going on between her and Steve), Nick got better at making drinks (thank the heavens for that), Sam would give you constant updates whenever he came with Bucky in the bar, and Peter had been having problems with his marketing team and Wanda's vision for the clothing line they landed.

Now that was something you couldn't believe and was the reason you and Bucky kept postponing on telling him.

Peter was constantly in a bad mood. It got to one point where he wanted to quit the team.

After that, you went to pay Wanda a visit at her studio. You found her sitting in her office in deep thoughts. She was surprised to see you but managed to put on a smile when she approached you with a hug. You offered if you could get coffee from a coffee shop down the block and there you talked about the conflict happening between her and Peter's team.

Boy, when you and Sharon had had an argument, you thought that was already big. But Wanda's case was much bigger.

"This isn't a collaboration anymore. It feels like my artistic vision has no place in it. It's like they're telling me, 'hey, you have a camera just shoot whatever we want you to shoot the way we want it to be shot.' I keep telling them that's not how it works. They keep throwing in my face that they hired me, that they're paying me." Wanda being Wanda, kept on and on and on. "... and that roommate of yours is no help either. He just stays silent the whole time during those god awful meetings. We're already behind track and apparently it's my fault. Can you believe it? God, I don't know what to do. I've never had a marketing team work alongside me before! Have you at least talked to Peter about it?"

You raised your eyebrows, taking a sip of the coffee. "Oh, I wouldn't wanna talk to Parker. He's been in quite a mood."

"Too bad, I was kind of hoping you could knock some sense into him. Should I just quit?"

You talked for about two hours in the coffee shop catching up. It felt kind of rude to talk to her about The Falcons but she insisted. And she genuinely looked and sounded so happy for you, which made you feel a bit guilty for being so envious of her success.

You parted ways in her studio but before you could even get out of her office and go to Brooklyn to meet with Bucky, Wanda called out your name and handed you a film camera.

And it wasn't just any film camera. It was yours — the one that she borrowed back in college.

"It's long overdue, y/n. I was just finding the right time to give it back to you."

You gave her a reassuring smile, telling her it's okay. Hell, you even forgot you lended it to her until today. "Thanks, Wanda."

"I haven't had the film developed, by the way. I took a couple of photos before realizing I've run out. I didn't want to get them developed since most of the photos are yours."

After that, you convinced Bucky to go to some shops in Brooklyn where you could get them developed but he insisted you should just make the little spare room in the studio into a dark room. You didn't know why you agreed but you did, anyway. Bucky always had a way with words. Or perhaps it was because of his intoxicating voice. Either way, you were addicted to every part of him. He could try to persuade you in gibberish and you'd still say yes.

It was already the week before Bucky's birthday. You've already met with your new clients, began planning pre-production, and almost finished setting up the studio, yet your brain was still racking what on earth to get Bucky for his birthday.

Howard picked you up in your studio an hour after your meetings and thanked him as you got out. Leonard greeted you inside and led you towards the elevator that goes right up to Bucky's penthouse.

Bucky just came out of his study when you greeted him with a kiss, his phone in his hand.

"So, who was on the phone? Parker?" You asked as soon as you sat down on the couch.

"That was Tony."

You pursed your lips and nodded, caressing the top of his head. "Tony's been calling you a lot lately." You commented, recalling the times you've seen Tony's name on Bucky's phone screen. "Is everything fine?"

"It's kind of weirding me out too, doll but this time, I kind of figured why he called."

You frowned and stopped playing with his hair. "What do you mean?"

"It's the first time in five years I'm in New York for my birthday and knowing him, I know he'd throw me this huge party." Bucky chuckled. "And I couldn't say no because well... It's Tony — "

You smiled at him. "That's really sweet of him! He must've been missing you a lot."

"I'm not done yet, doll." He placed his finger on your lips.

You giggled and hid how easily that gesture turned you on.

"The birthday party has a theme." With his finger still on your lips, you waited for him to finish. Something you always anticipated in bed. "It's the Great Gatsby."

Your mouth fell agape, smiling at him. In your head, you were already seeing him in a neat, dazzling vintage suit. "Oh my god, why do you look so glum? It sounds like a great party!"

He shrugged. "Honestly, I just want to spend my birthday with you." He pecked your lips then whispered. "No fancy party. Just you."

You kissed him back, then placed your head on his shoulder. "I'd love that too, boo but I'm nothing compared to a Great Gatsby party."

"You couldn't be more wrong, sweetheart." He sighed, pulling you up to his lap. "I'd choose you over any fancy party. I just want you."

"You still have to go, Bucky."

He groaned, dipping his head on your shoulder as he pulled you closer, his hands tight on the sides of your thighs. "I don't want to."

"You have to." You giggled, lifting his head. You put your hands on his jaws, looking straight at him. "Okay?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine in a week, y/n. I'm too old for a costume party."

"Puh-lease." You scoffed. "You streaked in the streets of Greece when you turned thirty-four and you're telling me you're too old for a costume party?"

He groaned, throwing his head back. "Why do you always bring that up, doll?"

"It's one of my favorite stories I've been told about my boyfriend." You smirked, bringing his head back in between his shoulders. "It would be my favorite if I were with you."

Bucky sent you a glare. "No way am I letting other people see you naked. Never in a million years."

You shrugged. "You almost did when we had sex that one time in my office, Buck. Come on, go to the party. It's your party, anyway."

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. He tucked it behind your ear. You smiled at the gesture. "If anything, it's Tony's party, Not mine. He's sort of a diva."

"He's still throwing it because of you. Come on, boo."

A moment of silence occurred.

"You're coming with me, then." He replied. "I'm not going if you're not going."

You hummed, looking up at the ceiling. "Let's see... A party with my boyfriend, his adoptive father who's one of the richest people ever to exist on this planet, and his stepbrother. Well, it's a party but not that fancy."

He moaned. "Then be my date in secret. Come on, doll, we've been really good at it. We can sneak out for a few minutes and make out. That way, I could still be with you."

You knitted your brows. "That sounds more like Romeo and Juliet. Not the Great Gatsby."

He chuckled, kissing the tip of your nose. "Come on, y/n. It's my birthday. Don't I get special treatment on my special day?"

You looked at him with narrowed eyes, knowing he would never drop this. The worry of a party with the person you had been avoiding the past month was settling inside but Bucky's arms around your waist made that all disappear.

"Fine." You sighed. "Your wish is my command, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky smiled in victory, leaning in closer to your face. His lips brushed against yours. "Wishes, baby. That's not the only wish I want."

"You have two more then."

"Oh wait, I should rub you first after making a wish, right?"

You shook your head. "Don't push it."

He sneered, carefully rubbing your thighs. "My second wish would be me buying you a dress but don't let me see it until my birthday comes."

You hadn't had any chance to argue because well, it would be his birthday. And you couldn't resist Bucky.

I don't think I ever could.

"Deal." You sealed it with a small kiss then stood up from his lap. "Only if you let me go shopping now,"

"Now? Like, right now? It's a bit too early, don't you think?"

You nodded and gave him a playful smile. "It is. I just wanted to tease you with a little secret I'll be bringing home with me tonight."

"Oh no," he reached out his arms, "don't do that to me. Come on, get back here. I have a better idea."

You sighed, getting back on his lap, straddling him. "Of course, you do."

"I'll have someone over here tomorrow. I'll have one of the best dressmakers here to make you something gorgeous. How does that sound?"

"It sounds expensive." You warned. "But wonderful. I'll be here in the morning."

After spending another hour at Bucky's, discussing what could've been his birthday plans with me (a simple rooftop dinner, where we could get drunk and have drunk sex underneath the tent — that was just one of the crazy options he offered), you went straight to the bar and looked for Nat, hoping she could help me what to get for Bucky on his birthday.

As you got there, you barged inside only to find the bar empty. You looked around, wondering why there were no people inside only to realize it was two in the afternoon and it was a Monday. You looked back on the door, wondering why it was open. Then, it hit you: Steve. He must be here.

"Steve?" You called out as you neared his office. "Steve, you here?"

No answer.

You knocked on the door and called out his name one more time but you were only met with silence. Without hesitation, you opened Steve's door. You were greeted with a pile of papers. It was like they were growing from the ground.

"Steve?" You called out once more but there was still no answer. You walked around the room to find more papers. You picked one up, seeing it was a newspaper dated back 2012. It was an article about an explosion that happened in the Upper East Side. But you couldn't see the details since only the headline was in sight. It seemed like the whole article had been cut or shredded.

You wondered if Steve was the one who wrote it.

It was the first time you ever got a good look in his office. Inside were dusty. To think that he spends most of his time here, he'd bother to clean once in a while.

On the back of his table were a bunch of photographs lined up. Some of his family, you assumed, fishing on a lake. Then, something caught your eye: a small framed picture that was facing down.

Curious, you slowly picked it up.

An audible gasp came out of your mouth when you saw the photo.

It was Bucky and Steve.

[catspluscrows]

Hi! I really like your writing and was wondering if you'd be willing to write Tanaka or Yamaguchi, Aone, and Kyotani with a dysphoric trans reader (he/him please)? I hope I'm not bothering you too much with this request but if you do write it, could you please tag me?

I did all four of them! (I repeatedly mentioned them supporting you because I think they’re accepting good people and you should only have those sorta people in your life!) 

And thank you for liking my writing!! <3 

Some of them are more general trans! reader who’s dysphoric headcanons with a couple lines referring to a female to male reader. I hope that’s okay! Sorry it took so long to write, Tumblr didn’t notify me of the ask and I’ve been inactive because of personal reasons. I tagged you too, like requested :) @simplesadsoup​

TW: Dysphoria, Trans reader (implied female to male)

𝐑. 𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀

If you thought you knew what support is think again.

He cares so much about you that even if he's confused about how you're feeling he'll listen and then research it.

You don't like the hormone shots you're on? Tanaka will schedule an appointment so you can move forward properly. Anything for you.

Tanaka makes it his goal to make you the happiest you that you can be. He'll be there every step of the way.

A pretty good listener. He'll sit next to you while you cry, telling you he'll be here for you always and that you're beautiful inside and out. He will sometimes talk but he’ll shut up when he realizes it. 

If he can't be there in person he'd call. Sometimes just hearing his voice is reassuring when things are feeling too heavy.

Never pressures you into doing anything. Even if you have plans he'll cancel them. If you tell him that you can't go out to dinner because none of your clothes feel right or you don't want to make an appearance he'll stay with you.

When you're feeling especially insecure about your body Tanaka will hold you. Everything would be silent (maybe some sappy song in the background), nothing to process except Tanaka's sweet words and warm embrace.

Tanaka never wants you to feel alone.

He wants you to know he's always there for you, even when you can't be there for yourself.                            

𝐓. 𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈

Yamaguchi feels helpless at first. He's worried he won't be able to comfort you when everything becomes too heavy. He's anxious you'll spiral deeper because he can't help you.

What he doesn't know is that he's a big help when you feel awful.

Considerate and observant, Yamaguchi brings you all your favorite things. Movies, books, foods. He gets all the things he knows you like to try and make you feel better.

Of course he realizes material possessions won't fix how you're feeling. Yamaguchi will stay with you as long as you need him to. Even if he's just holding your hand or helping you cut your hair. He's there at a moment's notice.

It makes him a bit angry and confused when you say what you're feeling dysphoric about. You don't like how high your voice is? He adores your laugh though? He knows why you don't like these things and respects it. But he'll never not see you as perfect, no matter your gender.

He tells you that every chance he gets too. If you thought Tanaka was a simp, well, get ready for Yamaguchi.

Stuff like: "That top looks really good on you!", "I love your smile and laugh. I'll tell another joke so I can see it!" are said a lot more

Reassures he's always there.

3 am and you've been having a long struggle with taking a shower? He'll rush over to help if that's what you'd like. Five minutes before a date and you can't bring it in yourself to go? He'll happily cancel.

Yamaguchi would rather hold you while watching movies anyway.

𝐓. 𝐀𝐎𝐍𝐄

It's true he's not the most expressive person but he'll show you he's there for you.

The best listener. Forget about how great Tanaka and Yamaguchi are at listening. Aone is a million times better.

He's not as great at cheering you up though. He tries his hardest though and that's enough!

His support is shown through his actions. In the way he'll stay up late with you or sleep in late in your bed. How he'll buy you your pads because you don't want to look at them longer than you have to.

Aone is super considerate of you. He won't make plans unless he knows you want to go. He's also ready to cancel on outing to stay instead withing a snap of your fingers.

Probably the best one to have at doctor visits.

He listens so carefully to what your doctor says. Prior to the visit he was listening intently to what you were saying about your treatment in case you forgot to mention anything.

Of course if you purposely avoided saying something he wouldn't tell the doctor.

Has a very gentle and calm approach. Part of it is that he's not great at expressing his feelings. The other part being that he doesn't want to be too blunt and hurt you further.

Knows that sometimes the best way to be there for someone is to just reassure them.

𝐊. 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

He cares about you a lot. And I mean a lot.

Pays close attention at any doctor visits he tags along with. He also keeps a close eye on you at home.

Unprepared but also very prepared.

He's ready to comfort you when you're feeling awful. He's also scared he'll be too rough and hurt your feelings too. When I say he's prepared I mean he knows what to do in his head, it's just acting it out can be hard. He takes the same determination on the court to your appointments.

Usually Kyotani is able to make you feel better. Without words and with only actions usually. Like he’ll bring you into a hug when you’re rambling about how he wouldn’t ever want to touch you and feel you melt into his body. 

Definitely the "aggressively caring" type. He also holds you accountable of dates and when to take your medication. 

But Kyotani is also really soft and will try his best to be patient with you. Especially since he's learning about this everyday with you. He'll research about it on his own but will also talk to you since he doesn't want to push any boundaries.

Will bring his dog over if you like dogs.

It'll make him so happy to see you smiling because his dog is licking your nose when you've been fighting tears for days. If he can't make you feel better he will kinda rely on his dog.

Sometimes it'll be hard for Kyotani to be patient but he'll always try to help you get through this. He'll make sure you know you aren't alone through the highs and lows. 

[z0urcherri]

Let's do it. How long have you been appreciated Forte ?

(*warning for infodumping) Well, i only saw Enchanted Christmas last month, so years before that i didn't even know he existed. Saw Beauty And The Beast 1 as a kid, but only once and on a rented VHS so i hardly touched the franchise after that. You'd think maybe i would have discovered him via PyroCynical or something, or the meme "bolted to the wall", but i actually never saw any of that until after the movie. But i can truthfully say once i discovered him, the intrigue led me to replaying scenes with him, not just to admire his handsomeness and all but also because i felt like there was much deeper lore than what had been initially presented. And...let's just say my imagination quickly stirred. *Lots of this might be just my own interpretations. The vampire hc, i feel, should just be canon at this point, because i feel like Disney snuck in intentional references to him being one. There's what we see on his human form; fangs, pale skin. And then there's even features of his organ form that hint at it like his eyes. They have an oddly black, blank, soulless look, almost lifeless if not for his expressions. Part of me also feels like this is why you're not seeing anything in his chambers like mirrors, silverware, things associated with driving vampires away or killing them, basically. Additionally, it would make sense in this case for him to be highly neurotic and frantic at times; vampires in the 1800's were...well...not highly respected, i'll just say that. It's actually impressive that he's found a comfortable place to live within the castle, moreso that the prince allowed him to do so. It could be that he knew the Maestro before he died, and recognized him when he rose again and prevented people from panicking and killing him on sight. That might tie into his obsession with the prince, in my book. One of the few people who saw him as still a person and not a monster. So getting betrayed by him, even slightly sets him off pretty badly. (I, for one, understand; he worked hard to gain the prince's respect and admiration, got it finally, only for him to continue to disrespect his passion for music.) If we listen to "Don't Fall In Love", we hear alot of what sounds like his own personal experience with maybe a potential wife. As if THAT had been the cause of his demise originally. "The quickest way to break your heart Make you depressed and ill Is to get tangled up inside The side effects could kill" He's not being subtle about it either. What also gets me is "Your freedom is the most important thing, my friend" because, as we know, Forte has little freedom IF ANY. "It's hell when someone's always there It's bliss to be alone" We're also treated to what could be his feelings on Fife, to some degree Belle, who tend to be "always there". To him, Belle is as untrustworthy as the Enchantress (what happened the last time a strange woman entered the castle??? Huh???) and Fife, despite feeling for Forte what Forte does for the prince, seems like another obstacle between him and the prince. I get it. Fife's a sweetheart, sure, but Forte has already put his heart and mind on someone else. "And love of any kind is bad A dog, a child, a cat They take up so much precious time Now, where's the sense in that?" Funnily enough, i can think of a dog, child, and cat in the castle. That HAS to be another not-so-subtle hint. "You'll go to pot You'll turn to drink You'll never rest You'll end up mad" Oh dear... TL;DR yeah i have feelings for this guy.

[artificialqueens]

Gimme Love, 6/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Welp, I'm back from travelling! For anyone interested to know how it went; it was great (if you love stress). Liverpool is a lovely place but I've destroyed my bank account :D

Anyway! We got 4 more chapters of this fic! This is where the conflict begins. I hope yall enjoy.

TW for this chapter: Homophobia, homophobic slurs

2020

The cake was in the fridge. We'd be seeing him later. For now, we settled for some spaghetti. It had become a sort of tradition for Jujubee and me for moments that needed celebrating. But we hadn't done it in so long, what with the stress of work.

"So, Juju, as you can see, I've labelled the pages you're allowed to read, so don't go looking at other shit, OK?" I asked, chopping up a red bell pepper.

"Why? If I do, am I gonna find some porn-y shit?" She quipped, running a hand along with the butterfly print book.

"Honestly, you know all of those details anyway." I gave her a smirk, taking a piece of pepper and throwing it over to her.

I almost expected it to fly past her head, but she caught it in her mouth. Skill.

"OK, but what's in the box, though?"

I almost forgot what she was even referring to. But following her gaze, I saw it, sitting on the kitchen counter beside the fridge. "Oh, that?" I scraped the peppers into the saucepan, "That is my memory box."

"Ooh, that's even more exciting." She beamed.

"No. We're not opening it." I moved on to an onion.

"Aw, why not?" Jujubee whined.

"Because I made my Mom promise me she wouldn't give it to me until I turned 50. But I was weak and begged her to give it back. So now, I've promised myself to not look inside until I turn 50." The air was no longer clean, poisoned with the acid from the onion. My eyes were beginning to sting.

"Aw, Brie, you don't need to get all emotional about it." She had to go and joke about the tear now trickling down my cheek.

"Girl, this is torture," I wipe my eye along my wrist, pretty sure my eyeshadow has been fucked up. "Did I fuck up the smokey eye?"

"Nope." I knew she was lying to me, but she couldn't take her eyes away, "You look absolutely gorgeous as usual."

"Not as hot as you, though." I sniffed. I needed her to focus on reading so I could finish chopping the onion as soon as possible. "Anyway, you wanna read something in there?"

Jujubee opened the book and immediately laughed, "Jesus Christ, Brie, bit dark."

She showed me the first page, childlike scribblings read 'Brianna's Diary. DO NOT TOUCH! Or this will happen to you!' An arrow led to a picture of a grave.

"I never even noticed that before," I chuckled.

"With a warning like that, I better find some crazy shit in here." she cleared her throat, "So starting in 1994, 'Diary Diary, Today, I had a fight with Jujubee. She really upset me, but I upset her too. I should say sorry. That's all. Bye.'" Jujubee lowered the diary, "you bitch, why did you upset me?"

"I have no idea, girl. I mean, didn't we do that a lot back then?" I shrugged.

"I bet you started it though," She lifted the book again, a coy smile on her face. "OK, moving on to 1995," she cleared her throat, "'Dear Diary, today Mommy and Juju's Mommy took us to see Pocahontas at the movies. It was very good. Goodnight.'" Jujubee paused to giggle, "God, I love how detailed this is. You could have added so much more."

"Girl, I was 8 years old. Writing more than 4 sentences was like writing the bible to me." I countered, finally scraping the onions into the pan with the peppers.

"Yeah, but we did so much more that day. We went to McDonald's after, we found that little frog pond in the woods." She pointed out.

I hadn't even remembered that. Now I kind of wished my younger self would have pushed herself to write more.

I was too busy rifling through my messy cabinet for oregano to notice Jujubee just flicking through page by page.

"But, you wrote 3 pages worth of poetry to Blair St Clair?"

Once I found the spice, I spun around to look at her, "Juju, I told you to only look at the pages that were labelled."

She held a hand up, "OK, I'm sorry." She closed the book.

I felt bad, thinking maybe my harsh tone brought the fun to a grinding halt. Squeezing my eyes shut, releasing a sigh, I said, "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

She took a sip of her water while I added the oregano to the saucepan.

"So, did you text her back?" She played with the glass in her hands.

I pursed my lips and shook my head. "Why? Do you think I should?" I asked quietly.

"Nah, not really."

"Well, why not?"

Jujubee shrugged her shoulders and went to look at her nails. "Don't know."

I clicked my heel, my tongue running along the top row of teeth behind my closed mouth. "Well, I've been thinking about it. I mean, maybe that's the problem. Maybe I could be a bit more responsive."

She made a humming sound. I was unsure what it was supposed to mean.

"OK, what's going on?" I put both hands on the counter.

"I don't know. I just think…" she paused, trying to find her words, "I don't see the point because the same shit will just happen again."

"The same shit?" I repeated, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, her speaking all but 10 words to you and then completely ignoring your existence." She put a hand under her chin.

"Well, maybe that wouldn't happen if I actually spoke to her like I wasn't terrified for once," I suggested.

She squeezed her eyes together, "Oh no, Brie. I knew this was going to happen."

"What was going to happen?"

"The whole Blair thing. I thought you were over it. Well, until she messaged you recently, I had a creeping feeling that it was all gonna come back."

"Juju, listen to yourself. You're talking like this is an actual problem."

"I hate to say it, but it is. Do you remember the time she hung out with you in the library? You were so excited the next day. I hadn't seen you so happy in so long. You wouldn't stop talking about how she would probably be there again." She paused, "But she wasn't. And you were so disappointed."

"Yeah, but things could be different now."

"And how's that?"

"Well, I'm a different fucking person now, that's one thing. I'm successful, I'm smart, I'm hot as fuck, rich as fuck - -"

"And you think that's gonna be the game-changer for her? That she's gonna come running into your arms? Because if that's the case, that says a lot about her." Jujubee rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm a big girl, now. If it happens again, I'll just get on with things. I'll move on.

"That's a lie."

I squinted my eyes. "Why are you being like this right now? You're so salty just because I fucked wrote a private letter to her as a child."

"This isn't about the letter, Brie. You know why I'm being like this. You shouldn't need to ask." But she continued, "You've never dealt with never having parents. You think that if Blair was to suddenly be truly interested in you, you'd get over the feeling of being unwanted. Yet you're surrounded by people who love and support you, who'd stick with you to the end. But right now, you don't give two fucks about them because you're too busy panicking about some girl from high school."

I lift my head again, putting one hand on the desk and the other on my hip, "Well, congratulations, Juju. Sounds like you got me all figured out. Hey, you wanna talk about my Grandpa next?"

She only reacted to that with a scowl. And she spoke again.

"You remember the prom? Do you remember what happened? Do you remember how she didn't do anything to stop Trevor?"

My eyes shifted away, just for a second. "She told him to stop."

"Which did nothing."

I wanted to argue how she was unfair. How it was so wrong to blame Blair for the prom incident. But I was distracted by a burning smell. Only now did I notice the onions and peppers blackening.

I quickly moved the saucepan off the heat, feeling it only radiating in my own face. I put a hand on the counter, the other on my hip. "OK, Juju, maybe you should leave."

It was safe to say Jujubee was taken aback. She remained still for a second before pushing her stool out. "So that's how it is? Kicking me out when you're faced with the truth?"

"Juju, just leave, please." I felt my hands clench around the edge of the counter, my nails digging into my hip.

"I am!" She grabbed her coat and stormed from the kitchen. I flinched upon hearing the door slam shut, and only then did it sink in - the dread, the feeling of regret.

I looked at the hob, the burnt vegetables unsavable. So they went in the trash. My stomach grumbled. But I couldn't bring myself to start over again.

Opening my fridge, my eyes were immediately on the cake. And I glanced over my shoulder, looking where she had sat, now feeling a sense of emptiness. Not in me, but the room. Like I was alone.

I was alone.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." I repeated as my hand clenched on the door. The cool air from the fridge felt nice but not enough to stop my panic.

I looked at the cake again, feeling the urge to throw it out the window. Or maybe just send it back to her.

Bitchy, I know. But I couldn't help it. I wouldn't be feeling like this if she hadn't acted the way she did.

I slammed the door shut, kicking it for extra measure. And in my heels, I almost tripped.

Filled with more anger, I paced around for a few minutes, aggressively cussing to myself.

Don't get me wrong, one part of me said she was right about Blair.

No. She isn't. I was going to prove Jujubee wrong.

I picked up my phone from the counter, found the message and began to type with trembling fingers.

"Blair…" I panted, "So sorry...for getting back to you so late... I'm a busy woman, as you...probably already know...Look... I'm just gonna say it...I really like you...I always have...You make me feel so confused...yet so happy at the same time...I feel a connection between us...I always have...I don't know whether you ever felt it or not...but I do hope so...I would love to meet up with you sometime soon...and maybe have a coffee...I don't know...maybe even some wine, if you want. I look forward to hearing back. Brie x"

My thumb hovered over the send button. The only sound I could hear was the ticking of the clock. Not even my own breathing.

I pulled my thumb away, closed my eyes and breathed out. "Brie. You sound fucking crazy. You sound insane. You can't just send shit like that." I repeated words of the same nature to myself, trying to usher myself off the edge before I could do something idiotic.

"Jesus Christ." I opened my eyes again, which were now glossy with tears. I wouldn't blink. I wouldn't let them fall.

Big mistake.

I thought I tapped the chat bar, going to delete the message. But my blurred vision said, "haha, no."

I tapped the button next to the chat bar. The send button.

The little noise my phone made as it was sent may as well have been the same as a gun clicking.

"Oh, God." My eyes couldn't tear away from the small screen. My heart rate increased. "No, no, no, you fucking idiot!" I pressed my thumb down on the message.

There was a delete option.

I clicked it.

'Are you sure? The recipient may have already seen the message.'

I backspaced to check.

There it was, the tiny version of her profile picture falling to the bottom of the screen. She was reading it.

"Fuck!!" I blurted.

I put the phone down on the counter, began pacing for a moment, and looked back at the phone. This went on for a few minutes. I wanted to be as far from my phone as possible. But also needed to know if she had replied.

This was it.

Blair was going to know how I was weirdly obsessed with her.

She was going to know I was checking her out in the library that one time.

She was going to know that I had fingered myself so many times at the thought of her.

What were my options?

Suicide - Not gonna happen.

Running away - But the project.

Reply with 'Hey, sorry! My friend took my phone, haha' - did anyone ever believe that excuse?

Block her before she could reply - then she'd think I was even more crazy.

Call up her place of work and somehow get her phone confiscated - why, though? That would involve Facebook stalking her again, trying to think of an excuse. Even if I did so successfully, she still saw the message.

All of the options just lead to cons. It was hopeless.

With shaky fingers, I switched my phone off and practically threw it onto the counter.

My body sank to the ground, now holding my head in my hands.

What do I do? What do I fucking do?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

2004

I was shaking. Only slightly.

There was something about the prom that made me feel so on edge.

Maybe it was all the people, all together in one room.

Perhaps it was the fact the chess boys asked to make out.

Or perhaps it was the fear of missed opportunities. Opportunities that involved a certain someone.

I watched from the side of the room as Blair took pictures with her friends on her pink digital camera. There was a feeling of regret causing my stomach to twist, my fists clenching onto my purple dress.

That could have been me.

I felt a hand moving a curled lock of hair from my shoulder.

"Just think, girl; we're almost there," Jujubee appeared in front of my vision, "College is just around the corner."

"I can't wait to be out of here," I spoke quietly.

Everyone turned their attention to the stage as Rosé appeared, announcing it was time to crown Prom King and Queen.

"Well, it's pretty obvious who our queen is." Jujubee crossed her arms.

I knew who she was thinking of. To be fair, it was pretty obvious. But I wasn't complaining.

Trevor was our Prom King, not my King anyway. I scoffed as he cheered, being pushed up to the stage by his team.

"Jesus Christ, who would have thought." Jujubee took a sip of her punch, spilling a drop on her lilac puffy-sleeved dress.

"And your Prom Queen is…" Rosé paused, pulling the result from the envelope.

3...2...1…

"Blair St Clair!"

I smiled for the first time since walking into the place. I applauded her victory as she walked up onto the stage.

Blair hugged Rosé and whispered something in her ear. I had no idea what it was, but I was too distracted as Trevor just stared.

"You wanna make a speech, girl?" Rosé joked into the mic.

Blair laughed, covering her face with embarrassment. She turned down the offer.

"OK. Everybody," Rosé held a hand to Blair and Trevor, "You're King and Queen of 2004."

Blair looked slightly uncomfortable as Trevor put an arm around her waist. Why couldn't he get the hint she was done with him?

The two got down from the stage, Trevor's gaze following her in confusion as she moved far away from him.

"Aren't they supposed to do a dance now?" Jujubee asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know, Juju. I've only seen proms in movies, and they're quite obviously exaggerated."

My eyes landed on Blair once more. Trevor was whispering something in her ear, and she shook her head, rolled her eyes and walked away. Yikes, he was desperate.

"Jesus, I'm fucking nervous." Rosé was approaching us now, well, the punch table we stood beside. "Getting up on stage gets my body shaking, you know?"

"Wish I could do that." Jujubee replied.

"Yeah, well, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do." Rosé replied.

I eyed her suspiciously. This was odd; she'd never really spoken to us before.

"But of course," she looked left, then right, before pulling a flask from her bra and pouring it into a cup, "this helps. You ladies want one?"

"Nah, I'm good," Jujubee made a stank face.

Me, on the other hand, having never drank alcohol in my life, piped up, "Actually, yeah. Could you just pour me a shot of whatever that is?"

"Yeah, of course," and she didn't lie. She poured me a shot of vodka. No spitting in the cup, no adding anything sneakily, no hostility.

She passed the cup to me, giving a mischievous wink.

Tossing it back, I was totally shocked by the burning sensation it caused to my throat. I began to cough and splutter.

"Girl, chill out, or you're gonna draw attention to yourself." Rosé looked around.

I placed the cup down on the table, the plastic practically crumbling in my hand.

"This is it. The beginning," Jujubee joked, dabbing the corner of my mouth with her pinky. I didn't even know there was a drop of liquid there.

And I didn't know there was a hair out of place either. Because she was stroking a soft hand down my temple to my cheek.

"Brie, do - -"

"Juju, I'm gonna ask her to dance with me," I said all too loud.

The hand dropped instantaneously, her smile falling in a matter of seconds. Of course, I expected this shocked reaction. Even Rosé had nearly choked on her drink.

"For real?" Jujubee asked after a silent moment.

"Yep," I answered proudly, putting my hands on my hips.

"I guess you've never touched a drop of alcohol in your life, loser." Rosé leaned close to me.

"Something like that." I felt slightly uncomfortable now that she was dangerously close to me.

She snorted a laugh, holding up her hands as she walked away, "I'm not responsible for this."

So this was what they called liquid courage. Yeah, it was one shot, but it was my very first. And I was already feeling it. The buzz.

I turned to make my way to the girl I loved when Jujubee grabbed my hand, "Brie, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Yes," I replied too quickly, tugging to pull away.

"Are you sure?" Her brows knit, "You're not gonna be upset if she says no, right?"

One final strong tug was enough to release her grip on me, "No, Juju. I'll be fine, just...stop questioning me, OK?"

She was silent, her arms dropping by her side.

But I continued on in my mission, vision slightly blurred, insides warmed.

Everyone around us was gone like they had just stepped into another world, leaving Blair and me in this reality. Or maybe it was the two of us who disappeared, somehow falling into the wormhole and ending up in the other world.

Or maybe it was just liquid courage.

There were only a few metres between us now. "Blair?"

She had been taking a sip of her coke when she looked up and noticed me. Wiping the corners of her mouth, she put the can down.

"Brianna!" She beamed. Her eyes looked me up and down, causing a brief moment of panic, "wow, look at you. You look great."

"Yeah, right, compared to you." I stifled a laugh.

"Oh, shut up." She smirked.

"So, um…" I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, looking away and to the ground, "I was just...wondering...if you'd wanna dance with me?"

I didn't lift my gaze. Only now did I understand what Jujubee meant. The girl hadn't even said no yet, and my heart was already sinking.

"It's just...this song is so good, and it's the end of the year, and we may not - -"

Before I could continue rambling, she cut me off.

"Sure. Yeah, I'll dance with you."

I lift my gaze to see her glittering smile. Like in the library, time didn't feel real anymore, and I needed to remind myself to breathe. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course." She briefly knit her brows like it shouldn't have been questioned. She took my hand in her perfect french manicured one, "Come on."

As we made our way to the dance floor, I was only now reminded that there were people here. So, we didn't slip through a wormhole. This was real. This was reality.

Blair found a spot on the floor, turned to me and wrapped her arms around the back of my neck.

For a moment, I was unsure of where to put my hands. I glanced over her shoulder, noting the couple also slow dancing. She has her arms around his neck. He had his arms around her waist.

I was hesitant at first but eventually gave in. Blair didn't mind. And I felt myself relax.

She just stared at me, the sweet smile still on her face. The music echoed around us. The lights were low. Pink tinted.

"So, how does it feel winning Prom Queen?" I asked. Of course, it felt amazing for her, but I needed to find an excuse to speak. Anything to avoid the somersaults my stomach was doing.

"I mean, it's nice, I guess. But, it's all bullshit anyway?" Her smile faltered, "Not something anyone in the future will give a fuck about, right?"

I disagreed. If I were to win prom queen, I would feel validated. And I would make sure I'd bring it up to everyone I ever met. Pathetic, I know.

"Well, I can't think of anybody better," I admitted. "Maybe they could have chosen a better King."

"Agreed." She nodded. "You know, literally just now, he tried to use this whole King and Queen thing to 'try again'. Not even that long before you came up to me. Brianna, I've already given him another chance. And he blew it."

"During the Summer?" I recalled.

"Yep." She pursed her lips.

"What did he do, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, he just had some major anger problems," her eyes widened for a moment, "He never hurt me, though. He just...got so angry over the dumbest shit. It was just too much."

She puffed out a breath, the frown on her face appearing.

"You don't have to tell me any more," I said quickly.

"Sorry, I don't wanna get emotional." She looked back at me. "It's just... it's hard not to. You're a good listener."

How should I have felt knowing that was her analysis of me from very little time spent together? She really trusted me. "Blair... I'm sorry about that time in the library. When you mentioned my Grandpa. I feel terrible now."

"Please, don't. You were grieving."

'Was I really though?' I held back from saying.

"I never really had a Dad," I smiled, seeing his stupid smile in my head, "But he was the closest equivalent to that."

"I know what you mean." She began, "My Dad…" she trailed off for a moment, "He wasn't the best. You probably remember that one time I ran away as a kid. When you walked me to my Grandma's."

I wasn't even tense in the first place, but my body felt like it relaxed. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do. It really meant a lot, Brie." Her thumb stroked the back of my neck. I don't know if she did this intentionally or subconsciously. Was she even thinking about it? "That day, I never went back. Ever. My Grandparents took full custody of me, and they became my second parents. The ones I always deserved."

I felt my body relax even more like this was normal. "Blair, I wanna carry on something my Grandpa started."

"What's that?"

"It sounds crazy," I pause, "But he wants me to find a parallel universe."

I paused to take in her reaction. She did look taken aback for a moment. Could you blame her? "Is it even possible?"

"I mean, at first I thought he was a bit out there asking me something like that, on his deathbed and all. But I've been studying really hard, and I think it's achievable."

"That's interesting." She nodded. "So, what are you gonna do at college?"

"Drugs." I giggled before the smile dropped, "OK, not funny. Bad joke."

"I'm laughing, though." She was.

"Um, no. I'm gonna do Astronomy and Space science."

"I didn't know that was a major you could do," Blair replied.

"Me neither. What about you, though? Something in theatre?"

Blair lowered her gaze for a brief moment, "I dunno, Brie. I honestly don't see college as a me-thing. I'm constantly torn between theatre, fashion merchandising, cosmetology, politics..."

"Politics?" I laughed and instantly hoped she didn't take offence to that.

"What?" She smirked. "What's funny?"

"I just…" I paused, feeling my heart skip a beat as a particular memory came back. "This is crazy. I can't believe I remember this. All I can think about right now is the day we met. Remember the first day of elementary? On the bus? I told you I wanted to be a politician when I was older, just 'cause they liked to shout a lot. And you couldn't say the word right."

"Oh fuck, now that you mention it, I do remember." Blair laughed, "That was such a long time ago. We were so little." She looked away as if her mind had transported her to that moment. Did she remember it like I did? Did she remember how she held my hand and told me she was my friend?

And then never sat with me ever again?

My eyes had drifted away, looking over her shoulder at nothing in particular. The bad thoughts were taking over. I didn't want them to. I wanted to enjoy this moment forever. Just swaying back and forth with Blair in the middle of the dance floor.

She stroked her thumb on the back of my neck again, causing a spark to course through me.

Blair's looking at me again. "Brianna, how come we never talked more?"

I don't know if it was just me fantasising again, but her face was moving closer to mine, ever so slowly.

I had the answer to her question. But it couldn't ruin this moment. "I don't know," I whispered.

She was closer now, head tilted to the left.

And I found myself doing the same.

This was another fantasy. This isn't real.

I felt her breath on the corner of my mouth.

It felt real.

It was.

There was a frustrated roar.

A tight fist clenched around my arm.

I was pulled back forcefully.

My feet gave way.

I was on the ground.

"Are you kidding me??" Trevor stood in front of Blair, his face red with anger, "You won't fucking dance with me, but you'll dance with her??"

Everyone around us was just standing there, too shocked to do something.

"Trevor, what the fuck??" Blair went to move around him, trying to get to me. He only pushed her back.

"Of all the people, why her??" He grilled Blair with more questions. She looked afraid now.

Why the fuck wasn't anyone doing anything??

I felt a hand on my shoulder, but looking around, I saw it was actually Rosé. "Trevor, what the fuck??"

He turned to look as if offended that anyone else got involved. How could they not? Seeing her helping me stand must hit a nerve. Because he's snatched a cup of punch from a bystander, "Why are you defending the dyke??" And he threw the cup forward, the liquid drenching my hair and splattering my dress.

That was the final straw. I could feel my chest heaving.

I ran to the nearest exit. Running from the school. As soon as I felt the cool air on my skin, I wrapped my arms around my stomach. I was bent over, throwing up all the panic. Sparks of the bile dotted the bottom of my dress and shoes. I didn't care. My dress was already ruined.

I heard the door open behind me and immediately began to move again.

I tried to run, but the heels made it hard.

The person was in front of me now, hands on my face, tears streaking her face.

I expected it to be Blair.

But it was Jujubee.

"Brie, it's alright. I punched him for you." She whimpered, her hands on either side of my face, holding me tenderly.

My breathing was rugged, trying so hard to listen to her reassuring whispers. But in my head was the sound of the crowd gasping and Trevor shouting.

No one was going to forget about this. I'd be reminded by the stares in the corridors, how they'd whisper to each other.

"Let's go to my house. You can stay over if you want." Jujubee's sweet voice brought me out of my thoughts.

Words still failing to surface, I nodded.

As soon as we got in, she ran me a hot bath. Whilst I cleaned myself of the sticky punch that covered my hair and face, she made chocolate mug cakes with ice cream.

Sitting there in her room, dressed in her fluffy pyjamas, eating her food, I should have felt better. I should have been happy. But I just stared at the mug in my hand, still thinking of Trevor's anger and Blair's distressed face.

Jujubee took the mug from me, set it aside along with her own, and enveloped me in a hug. "Don't cry, Bri. Please, don't cry."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was crying." I wept.

"Don't apologise." She shushed me, "It's OK. You're OK."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

2020

And even now, I didn't realise I was crying again. And as it was too late to stop myself, I remembered sobbing into Jujubee's shoulder, holding her tightly, like she was the only one who could get me through it. She was the only one who could get me through it.

The events of the prom left me scared, always so on edge when walking those school corridors. Just terrified that Trevor would round the corner and do something worse.

But Jujubee was there for me every time. She'd hold my hand, not giving a fuck about who looked at us weird.

I know I should have grown a backbone and defended myself, and what had actually happened shouldn't have been as damaging as it was. But, hey, I was only human.

Jujubee got in a lot of trouble for punching Trevor in the face. But she didn't mind. "Just as long as he got what was coming to him," she had said.

Hearing her retell the event, I wish I had been there. She had jumped on him, tackling him to the ground and punched him over and over again.

But as exciting as that all was, I didn't speak to Blair again. I didn't think about her. I didn't talk about her. I didn't even look at her. Blair wasn't the one to come after me that night. She never even approached me to talk about it. She didn't give a fuck.

So I kept my distance.

And just as life went on without her, she just had to go and message me. After years of silence, she couldn't have left well enough alone.

I finally lifted my head. I reached up and grabbed my phone. Turning it back on, I immediately deleted Messenger, hoping to never see Blair's response.

This would be the beginning of my journey toward happiness.

Yeah. That was it. That's what I would do.

[nicolascageisgreat]

Prisoners of the Ghostland (2021)

I dunno about y'all, but I was hella excited when I first saw the trailer for this one. Japanese horror western? One of the wildest things Cage has ever done? Sign me the fuck up.

Well, the loving husband got me a nice edition of it for my birthaversary, so let's get started!

A twisted fever dream of east meets west, Prisoners of the Ghostland is ostensibly the story of a bank robber taken from prison and sent to bring back the governor's daughter, who ran away. Our hero, played by our beloved Nicolas, has no name and is simply "Hero."

The girl's father, who is the epitome of "you're why your daughter ran away" actually tricks Hero into to putting on the infamous suit from the trailer, and I will say, there is a sick logic to it--it's all to prevent Hero from harming Bernice, although as we'll later find out, that's probably not something he'd do. He tracks her to the titular Ghostlands, an area horrifically polluted with toxic waste and guarded by some horrifying ghosts who won't let anyone leave. At least, I'm pretty sure they're ghosts. Probably.

The line between what is and isn't real is very blurry, and finding the trivia fact that the director's favorite Nicholas Cage film is Wild At Heart really made it make a lot of sense. For those who don't remember my review of that one, that's the one directed by David Lynch, who is known for the dreamlike qualities of his work. This is an obvious influence and inspiration once you know it, and I think Lynch would probably really like some parts of this, if not the entire thing.

The surreality of it is aided by the director's knowledge of what's truly horrifying: large people talking in unison, people moving wierdly, broken mannequins, people in masks not moving or speaking, and, of course, radiation.

By the end, I found the Lynchian qualities more compelling than our darling Nic. Make no mistake, this is very much an art film, and everything in it is very intentional, from staging and framing to costuming to oddly stilted and seemingly out of place dialogue (some of which is quite memorable). It has an extremely theatrical feel, right down to Greek choruses (well, technically japanese but you get what I'm selling) and creates a vibrant world with surprisingly few sets. Like, you could adapt this to the stage fairly easily. The costuming is eccentric, ranging from traditional Japanese clothing to typical old west/American clothing. It's ostensibly post apocalyptic (at least for the Ghostlands and Samurai town), but fairly modern cars exist. We do get flashbacks of Hero's bank heist, and it looks relatively modern, but honestly, who knows. There's no cell phones, so it's not current day.

There is a metric fuck ton of references and symbolism, some of which is easier to catch than others. Great movie for your film class paper, tbh. Many will recognize a familiar face in the wanted posters at the sheriff's office as Lupin III, fewer will recognize the name of Goemon Ishikawa on another poster (unless you've played Persona 5 or studied Japanese folk heroes), but that's also a fun nod.

Throughout you'll find all of the standard tropes of a western, but often a bit off kilter. For example, one of the more prominent characters in the Ghostlands is obviously the preacher man. However, when we finally get to hear him reading from his book he clutches so tightly, it's not the bible.

We also get some samurai, although arguably more ronin. I'm not a huge expert on that end of things, but there's some fun sword play. Which, it's extra fun because the period in Japan with samurai was concurrent with the old west, so it's not as odd as you'd think.

Overall, I think I liked it fairly well, although I'm not sure it's something you like or dislike. It's really very much just like experiencing a dream with Nicolas Cage cast in the main role. Though, speaking of our main man, I wouldn't say his performance was exceptional either way. He was definitely present and professional about it, but he was also just doing his job. There's a couple scenes where he goes full Cage, but he's positively sedate for most of it. He sticks out, also blends in, and honestly, I think the director did a fabulous job because Cage didn't completely eclipse everyone and everything else in the film. A lot of the time he does, and I don't think that's Cage's fault, he's just really intense and I think a lot of people don't know how to work with that level of intensity.

Overall rating:

4 David Lynches out of 5 (one subtracted due to lynch not being involved)

4 Nicholas Cages out of 5