#i was only thinking about it in the context of television
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redladydeath · 11 months ago
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Having a RAM! Velvette thought.
I imagine once while she was alive (maybe she was even still a teenage) she was forced to do some court-mandated community service at a retirement home once and hated it. Old people were lame of course but it was the decay of minds and bodies that disturbed her. Old coots stuck in the past, asking about long-dead wives and wars that ended decades ago.
It was then she decided she’d never grow old. Dying young had never seemed a more appealing option. And what do you know, she got her wish.
She sometimes thinks back to that experience now. She also thinks back to how she used to call Vox old as a joke. Age didn’t matter in Hell, wasn’t supposed to. The sort of degradation of a mind stuck in loop wasn’t supposed to happen here, especially to a man who no longer had a physical brain.
Yesssss, I was playing around with a similar idea that maybe she'd had a grandfather or some other relative who'd dealt with dementia, but I hadn't settled on anything. This is a good take.
It's an unnerving situation for her on so many levels, because not only is she dealing with a loved one (who she didn't even realize she actually loved until now) suffering and losing his dignity, but suffering in a way she'd never thought would be possible down here.
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saturatedsinset · 10 months ago
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thinking of writing an essay about the deployment of The Family as a reified moral good on drag race. I think it would be interesting
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hkpika07 · 1 year ago
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What moment in ttte made you shocked?
Idk man ttte isn't a very shocking show. It's incredibly down to earth, if a bit real with some of its stories. While yes some of the earlier episodes and especially the books can branch onto more serious and arguably darker content its nothing that would really shock me per se.
Nothing really shocks me, it just makes me think. Maybe be a bit sad or feel for the characters. But that's what any good story does.
#idk really know what you want me to say here#im not super into talking about the quote on quote darker elements of ttte. i like my fluff#people act like its this secretly dark and fucked up kids show. shocking people. constantly bringing up Henry’s tunnel and what not#and they dont take into account not only rhe full context. but the messages themes and time period that the stories were written.#these “darker” storylines were written in the 40s. where a punishment like this would seem normal.#obviously now in 2023 these views have changed#its like the old children's parlor game Snapdragon. played in 1800s.#where children would eat raisins out of a burning dish of brandy while it was still on fire#times change and its important to take the context into consideration. does it make the action or plot point any less unsettling? no.#like i said perceptions have changed. but i dont think its fair to call it a fucked up oooo dark and egdy not what you think show#dont act like it was written in today's time when it wasnt. the authors didnt write that show for Children's television in the 80s to shock-#-and scare kids. it was written in 1945 by Awdry as an allegory for being a brat. you get put on the naughty step or go to your room#like how henry was shut in thr tunnel. granted today the wording and time spent in the tunnel seems overly harsh. which it is.#but it also might be hyperbole. also henry was let out the very next story and everyone fucking misses that fact and i fucking hate it#HE WAS LET OUT OF THR TUNNEL THE VERY NEXT EPISODE#sorry sorry i went on a bit of a rant in the tags. anyways nothing in ttte shocks me cause theres nothing really shocking about it#red answers
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moonlightspencie · 7 months ago
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don't want you like a best friend
Description: James is nervous about his inexperience with girls. Luckily he has a best friend who's more than willing to help. (based on an idea formed in part by @amiableness. check out the post)
Pairing: best friend!James Potter x fem!Reader
Warnings: DESPERATE!james, inexperienced!james, blowjob (m receiving), porn with barely any plot
Word Count: 2.5k
a/n: kind of muggle!au? doesn't really matter in the context of this though lmao
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You walked into James's flat, quite pleased he'd given you a key. It was much easier to bother him whenever you pleased when you could just waltz in any time.
"James!" you called out, toeing off your shoes.
"In here!" he shouted back.
You followed his voice to his room, seeing him laying on his tummy watching tv. You ran up to his bed and flopping down on it next to him. He laughed in that squeaky, joyful way he only ever seemed to do around you.
"Hi," he greeted with a cheeky smile.
"Hi," you replied with an equal grin, then glanced at the television. "What are you watching?"
"Nature documentary about penguins," he responded simply.
You glanced up at him with a quirked brow. "Why?"
"Cause I like penguins," he shrugged.
"...we need to get you a girlfriend."
He went a little quiet, prompting you to look at him again. You tilted your head.
"James?"
He chewed his lip. "I– I do kind of have a date. Tomorrow."
"What?" you exclaimed, suddenly sitting up straight. "Who? Since when?"
His cheeks went a little pink. "Sirius set it up for me."
"Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me?!"
"I'm nervous!"
You chuckled softly, still in a bit of disbelief. The boy had been single for far too long in your opinion, especially considering how much girls threw themselves at him in school. He always said that it was just because he had high standards, but part of you was half-convinced he must be terrified of girls. Or commitment. Maybe both.
"I just... I can't believe it. Is she cute?"
He almost grimaced. Not a great sign.
"Uh oh," you snorted a laugh.
"It's not that she's ugly! She's... she is pretty, its just," he sighed, shrugging a little, "she's not really my type, I guess."
"At this point, I'm beginning to believe you don't have a type."
He frowned. "Hey."
"Just saying, James. You never date, and it's not for lack of girls who like you."
"I kind of have to like them back for that to work."
"You sure you're not scared of girls?" you asked with a laugh.
He chuckled a little, shaking his head. "No."
"Commitment?"
"No."
"...Sex?"
"Ugh, don't say that," he groaned, dropping his face against the mattress.
You laughed again. "Sounds like a yes. It's really not that scary."
"It's kinda scary," he mumbled against his comforter.
"James," you called quietly, resting your cheek on the mattress to look at him.
He turned his face towards you, his cheeks pink and his hair even messier than usual. His lips were slightly pouty. Frankly, it was absolutely adorable.
"Everyone but me has done it at this point. The furthest I ever got was touching a boob over clothes in fifth year."
You couldn't help but to laugh at that, causing him to whine your name in protest.
"Sorry..." you said, not all that apologetic. "It's just... cute. You get so flustered. It's really not a big deal."
"It is a big deal to me."
"Aw. I'm sorry, Jamie. I just mean that nobody's going to fault you for being inexperienced."
"They might!"
"No they won't."
"You don't know that."
"At any rate, I think it's sweet."
"But I'm not having sex with you," he argued, then snapped his mouth shut, his cheeks going even darker. "That sounds... I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry," you ran a hand through his hair, and he leaned into the touch. "I just mean to say that I'm sure if I think it's sweet, other girls would also probably think it's cute."
"I'm a man. I shouldn't be cute, I should be... strong and masculine. Hot."
"You're very hot, James."
He sighed, still pouting a little.
"Put that lip away," you muttered, tapping his bottom lip.
"You're being mean."
"No, I'm not."
"You're teasing me," he pouted again.
"What? How?"
"You're very hot, James," he mocked in an overly-high-pitched voice.
You snorted a laugh. "Heaven forbid I tell my hot best friend that he is, in fact, hot."
He fell quiet for a moment. "You really think so?"
"Of course I do."
"Mm," he hummed softly, then sighed. "Why can't there be more girls like you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, smiling curiously.
"You're always so sweet to me. I just wish there were more girls who act like you, cause then I could just... do it with them and not be so worried about it."
You raised your brows, trying to hold back another laugh. "Oh, really?"
"Don't tease me."
"I'm not. Just, why don't–" you stopped abruptly.
He looked at you with wide eyes. "What?"
"If you're so worried about getting your first time over with, then why don't you just do it with me?"
He looked like he got the wind knocked out of him in that moment, blinking a few times as if he was trying to wake up from a dream. He opened his mouth a few times, though no sound came out.
"I just mean that... you said you'd do it with a girl like me, so why not me? You trust me, I know what I'm doing, you know I won't judge," you listed off some reasons. "It could work, you know?"
"Cause you're... you're my best friend."
"And?"
"And friends don't do that."
"Friends do that all the time," you replied with a shrug.
"What?" he asked, looking totally mortified.
"Friends have sex all the time."
"Since when?"
"Since forever," you chuckled a little. "I'm not saying we have to. Just putting it out there, since you're so nervous about it and all."
"I–I don't..."
"You don't have to say yes."
"I know," he nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. "It's just... I don't think I'm ready to do all of that right now."
You smile a little. "I'm not saying I'd take you to pound town right now..."
"Ugh," he groaned.
"Sorry. I just mean to say that, if you wanted to, we could start slow. Work you up to the main event."
He chewed his lip, looking away from you. You sighed softly, then stood from the bed.
"Alright. Let's go and grab a snack or something and take your mind off all this. Stop stressing so much," you said, trying to grab his arm to pull him up.
He shook his head. "Can't."
"What? Yes, you can."
"No, I can't," he emphasized, his cheeks still dark.
"Why not."
He stared at you for a moment, then whined, dropping his head into the comforter again. He mumbled something into the fabric, causing you to groan in annoyance.
"What are you saying? I can't hear you when you mumble."
"You don't understand," he said, looking at you again with a pouty face. "You're not a guy."
"What the hell is that supposed to... Oh," your eyes widened. You let out a disbelieving, delighted little giggle. "Are you–"
"Please don't talk about it. It'll make it worse," he said quickly in his whiny little voice.
"Aww. Poor baby."
"Stop it."
"Let me see."
His eyes widened comically. "What?"
"Let me see. Come on, turn over," you giggle, trying to turn him.
"Lovie, no, I..."
"Please?" you pouted, knowing he could never resist it.
He whined. "Please don't. It's embarrassing."
"It's hot."
He gulped. "...It is?"
You nodded. "Yeah. It's kind of flattering, too. The fact that I barely suggested it and you got all excited."
"It's not my fault. I just... my brain started thinking..."
"Yeah, brains tend to do that," you joked, relishing in him being all flustered. It was so unlike his usual demeanor. "Come on, Jamie. I just want to see."
He swallowed, nodding a little awkwardly before he turned onto his back. You smirked a little to yourself at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. You sat back on the bed right next to him, glancing back at his nervous face.
"Can I touch?"
"I... I don't know."
"Just over the pants right now."
He considered it for a few moments, before taking a deep breath, nodding.
"Okay," he said quietly, his hands balling into fists.
You smiled. "Relax."
You let your hand rest on his thigh first, watching him as his eyes trailed your every move. You slowly slid up his leg, teasingly, just so you could see him sweat a little at the thought of being touched for the first time. He was generally quite confident, but somehow missed out on anything and everything intimate outside of kissing.
He sucked in a breath as you reached his hip, looking as if he could pass out.
"Hey," you said gently, trying to catch his eye. "Take a deep breath. Relax. It's supposed to feel good."
He sniffed, nodding shakily. "Y-yeah. Sorry."
"Don't apologize, Jamie. Just... relax. Okay?"
"Okay."
You let your hand move again, barely ghosting over his bulge, the tips of your fingers touching the fabric of his sweatpants. You looked up at his face. His cheeks were red, and his eyes were wide and almost glossy. His pretty, pouty lips were just barely parted as he waited in anticipation for your next move.
You lowered your hand, gripping him gently through his pants, forcing a shaky gasp through his lips. You smirked to yourself a little, stroking him through his pants.
"Feels good, huh?" you asked in a quiet voice.
He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was a pathetic little moan. You chuckled at the sound, stroking him again. He was bigger than you expected him to be, but not terribly massive. His hips bucked into your hand, another soft whine coming from him.
"Aww. You like it, huh?"
He nodded, breath coming in short.
"Can I do a little more?"
"Uh..."
"I think you'll like it."
"M-maybe," he gasped out, looking utterly wrecked already.
"Can I take off your pants?"
He looked at your face again. "Huh?"
"Can I take them off? I wanna touch you," you stated simply.
He whimpered. "Um... For... for what?"
You furrowed your brow. "So I can feel you. I just want to touch your skin. It'll feel better for you, too. You touch yourself, right?"
"I... Y-yeah. Yeah, sometimes."
"And I assume you don't do it through your pants, right?" you laugh a little.
He merely swallows, nodding dumbly. "Right."
"So... Can I touch you like that? I won't do it unless you say yes."
"Oh..." he sucked in a shaky breath. "O-okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes."
You smiled, hooking your fingers in his sweatpants and underwear. "Hips up, please."
He followed your instructions easily, lifting his hips for you. You tugged everything down in one go, leaving it all pooled at his ankles on the bed. You nearly moaned yourself when you saw him, hard and leaky and ready. You traced his dick softly with your fingertips, impressed with him, and drawing another moan from his lips.
"So pretty, Jamie. Look at you."
"Don't... fuck," he gasped. "Don't say that."
"I mean it. Your cock is perfect."
He whimpered again, sounding like he could cry. You wrapped a hand around him, stroking him softly as hips bucked into your hand, soft moans and squeaks leaving him in utter desperation.
"P-please," he begged, staring at you as if you hung the stars.
"Please?"
"I... I don't know," he shook his head, his lip quivering.
"You need more?"
He sniffled, nodding quickly. "So bad. Please."
"Can I suck your cock, love?"
The sound that left his lips was utterly pornographic, his chest heaving like he'd run a marathon.
"God..."
"That's not my name, baby," you stroke him again. "I need you to say yes if this is what you want."
"Y-yes. Fuck yes," he said, his hips still shifting under you, trying to get more friction from your hand.
"So needy," you chide jokingly, moving to settle between his legs.
He whined watching you climb between his legs, nearly hyperventilating at the sight and feeling of you kissing along his stomach with your hand pushing his shirt up.
"So pretty," he groaned, stroking your hair.
You smiled against his stomach, licking nearly up to his chest just to hear him make that sound again. You kissed back down his stomach, barely ghosting over the tip of his cock at you looked back up at him.
"Ready?"
He nodded, in a trance as he watched you. You kept his eye contact as you darted your tongue out, tasting him for the first time. He practically sobbed in pleasure, pulling on your hair slightly.
"Told you it would feel good, baby," you mutter, licking from base to tip as he squirmed under your touch. "Isn't this nice?"
"Mmmm..." he nodded, chest heaving.
"Good boy," you kissed his tip.
You stared up at him, smiling to yourself at his sweet little reactions as you started stroking him. He looked so adorable totally wrecked. Like he could pass out at any moment. You couldn't help but to want more.
You wet your lips, figuring you could probably fit most of him into your mouth in one go: so you decided to give it a go. You licked him once more, then shoved his cock down your throat, letting it hit far enough to make you gag.
He shouted, gasping for air before he fell into a puddle of moans and desperate praises of your name. You pulled off of him, but only for a second before you went back down, sucking on him as if your life depended on it. It felt like it did.
He gripped the fabric of his comforter, sobbing in pleasure as his hips jutted up into your mouth. You were about to pull off to make some sly remark, when he whimpered loudly, shooting his cum down your throat. You hummed around him, swallowing everything you could despite your utter surprise that he had finished so quickly. He whined and kept his grip tight in your hair until he was done, his seed dribbling past your lips as you couldn't quite swallow everything. You weren't sure if you'd ever witnessed someone cumming so much before.
You did your best to clean him off without making him overly-sensitive, and finally pulled off.
"Mm... Holy fuck, Jamie. You cum that much every time?” You ask, chuckling a little despite being wildly aroused.
He shook his head, sweaty and still whimpering.
"Awww," you cooed softly, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "You okay?"
"That... that felt..."
"What?"
"Best thing ever," he managed breathily.
You laughed. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," he uttered, a small smile on his face as he opened his eyes. "I... you're really good at that."
"Apparently too good," you snorted.
"Maybe," he nodded, then hummed softly in pleasure. "Sorry for cumming so fast."
"It was sweet."
"It's not sweet," he shook his head.
"I think so. You're so sensitive," you kissed his cheek.
He hummed again, then sighed softly. You watched him as he took a few steadying breaths before he moved his eyes back to you. He let his eyes linger on your form for several moments, then chewed his lip. He looked up at you, clearly debating something in his mind.
Then he smiled a little.
"Can I return the favor next time?"
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doctorcurdlejr · 9 months ago
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This is from a longer post I wrote about I saw the tv glow but just posting this bit on its own bc of the conversation around the movie I guess:
The point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?
Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in.
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cerusee · 2 months ago
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I've never watched any Chinese dramas but I really enjoy your posts/gifs about them and it's got me interested in trying some! Do you have any recommendations for somebody who's totally new to them? Any tropes/background context I should be aware of? The historical/fantastical ones seem the most appealing to me.
Oooooh! My first thought on reading this ask was, “oh, I’m hardly qualified”; I’m only on my *stops to count on fingers* eighth cdrama, not counting the one episode I watched of the Wang Zhuocheng xianxia where he falls in love with a rock. (Long story.) There’s a lot of cdramas out there, and I myself have not even scratched the surface of what’s out there! That said, if you’re interested in historical/fantastical dramas, those ARE the ones I’ve been watching, so I still have some opinions despite being a total noob myself.
Do not start with The Untamed/Chen Qing Ling. Twas my first cdrama, like a lot of western fans, who were drawn to it in part because of the big censored-but-still-very-evident gay love story between the male leads, but honestly, as much fun as it is for the slash fans, it’s not a great jumping off point for either Chinese television in general, or even for its own wuxia-inspired genre setting. I say this as some who is still deep in the fandom four years later, and has immense love for the show: the first two episodes are flat-out bad, the overall pacing is bad (episodes frequently stop MIDSCENE), the worldbuilding is thin (a carryover from the novel it was based on), and without a larger context for why it’s made the way it’s made (stylistic choices, industry conventions, government censorship, genre conventions) a lot about it is confusing as hell to cdrama newbies, which is…so evident…a lot…in fandom wank I mean in the discourse about what story this story is trying to tell. Like, if you came to me and asked specifically, “I’m thinking of watching CQL. Should I watch CQL?” I would say yes, absolutely! It’s so much fun! I’m obsessed with the characters! I’ve written a lot of fanfic about the purple guy! But it’s not a good first cdrama, nor it is the best example of what the Chinese TV industry has to offer.
A MUCH better first cdrama especially if you like the historical/fantastical: The Legend of the Condor Heroes (2017), which not coincidentally was my second cdrama. It’s one of about a dozen television adaptations of the classic 1957 Chinese novel of the same name by Jin Yong, generally considered to be the inventor of the genre known as wuxia, which is a blend of history, fantasy, and martial arts. (One of the most well-known examples of wuxia in the west is Ang Lee’s Oscar-winning 2000 film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which you have probably at least heard of.)
Legend of the Condor Heroes (hereafter known as LOCH) has it all: romance, revenge, evil plots and daring deeds, people jumping off a burning mountain and being rescued by the worst CGIed eagles known to television or cinema, boat adventures, mountain adventures, grasslands adventures, a weird cult leader who lives on a spooky flower island (there will be math), murder, baby kidnapping, more murder, one guy inadvertently racking up a ridiculous number of martial arts teachers, sworn brotherhoods which invariably end with one guy stabbing the other, lots of VERY good martial arts fights, and, of course, Genghis Khan. Technically there are no magic/supernatural elements in this show—no ghosts, ghouls, magic, angels, devils, gods, etc—although the martial artists do have l33t skillz that might qualify as superhuman depending on how you slice your genre conventions, and are awfully fun to watch.
I’ve actually seen two LOCH adaptations (there was one in 2024 I liked a lot, with my favorite Guo Jing so far), but 2017 is a much better adaptation for newcomers as it tells a fuller version of the story and doesn’t skimp on or rush through or rewrite as many elements of the plot as other versions do; it’s meant to be a LOCH for people who haven’t seen half a dozen versions of LOCH already. It has a WONDERFUL cast, including my one of my favorite cdrama leading men, Chen Xingxu,* as the lead antagonist, Yang Kang, who is a trash fire of a person you just can’t root for, but he also can’t help it because he was raised by Wanyin Honglie. You can catch it on YouTube (I recall that there are couple of missing episodes from that playlist, but you can search on YT for those when you get there, to find them subtitled from other channels.)
*If you, like me, come away from LOCH 2017 with your mouth slightly ajar at how great CXX is, I have wonderful news for you! He’s been a lead in at least two other very good cdramas: the 2023 xianxia** The Starry Love, where he gets to play, like, five different characters (huge acting flex, and he’s great, although I would rush to stress I loved a ton of things about this show besides CXX himself), and the 2019 semi-historical drama Goodbye My Princess, which might actually be my favorite cdrama I have seen to date, and arguably THEE best well-made on a technical level, with phenomenal acting, a great script, and editing and directing I am constantly swooning over, but I am not entirely sure I can recommend to you unless you are a Tragedy Enjoyer.
(If you are a Tragedy Enjoyer, please stop whatever you’re doing and just start watching Goodbye My Princess right now, it is phenomenal. It is also available on YouTube. Watch the Director’s Cut, not the regular one! This is important. In its haste to get the main leads on screen together ASAP, the regular version does a Reader’s Digest version of stuff the Director’s Cut spends like five episodes carefully setting up, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense, nor does it flow well.)
**Speaking of xianxia! Xianxia is the high fantasy genre, full of magic and gods and demons and people dying and living multiple lives and whatnot. Important to note: xianxias are soap operas (complimentary). They tend to feature female protagonists, sweeping, epic romances, and put enormous emphasis on exploring the nuances of relationships and emotions. I have watched three that I loved (Love Between Fairy and Devil, The Starry Love, and Eternal Love: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms), and while technically I could recommend all three, if you were going to watch just one, especially as a cdrama intro, I have to recommend Eternal Love, which really is the quintessential xianxia, the one all other xianxias are kind of shaping themselves around. I have watched it 1.5 times and I can say that it does not properly take off until like, episode 10, or whenever it is that the main couple finally, properly meet. IT IS WORTH THE INVESTMENT. This show made me want to spit blood. I cried multiple times watching it. It made me feel things. It has a wonderful immersive quality that’s hard to describe except to say that the entire show sort of vibrates on its own frequency. The casting is just kind of…perfect? Props to Maggie Huang for portraying the most perfectly hatable xianxia villainess of all time. Absolutely no one is doing it like Su Jin. No one should try. I believe this is available on YouTube, but after an abortive start, I realized it was on US Netflix, and watched it there.
As for tropes and background context: ehhhhhh. I mean, it’s an entire industry? I know substantially less about how it functions than I do about, like, American TV and film. I know government censorship is a not-inconsiderable factor, but I don’t know much of the nuance of how that plays out in terms of filming and airing. Tropes will vary according to subject. Idol dramas (shows built to showcase media personalities regardless of their ability to act) are a thing. Most cdrama audio is still dubbed (this one surprised me!), usually by professional voice actors and not by the original cast, for a confluence of reasons, some of which historically make sense (noisy filming lots rendering original audio useless), and some of which are really stupid (fans throwing hissy fits if lead actors don’t have the “right” kinds of voices for their characters).
Anyway! My recommendations are this: try The Legend of the Condor Heroes (2017) to start with, UNLESS you would prefer having your heart ripped out of your chest, in which case watch Goodbye My Princess (Director’s Cut, 2019), or UNLESS you love soap operas as much as I do, in which case watch Eternal Love: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (2017). All three are great shows, but they all hit differently/scratch a different itch.
Oh! Lastly! @dangermousie is a great source of cdrama recs. I should note she prefers dramas and tragedies and mostly does not vibe with xianxias. But she watches like eight million hours of dramas a week and reports her findings to us because she is a river to her people.
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copperbadge · 8 months ago
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I knew when I gave my stepfather all twelve seasons of The Big Bang Theory I would likely be watching some of it with him, and it's a real experience. I watched a couple of early seasons of the show when it was airing, partly because my folks liked it so it was something we could text about and bond over, but I was usually half-paying attention.
When my stepdad put on a couple of episodes from the season nine DVD, at first I thought we were watching a clip compilation of some kind, because they were jarringly abrupt -- most scenes only seem to last about thirty seconds and rarely are you in one for more than two minutes; often the scenes seem to cut off prematurely. A lot of the time you can read from context what happens next in a scene, but the actual action of it is skipped over in favor of leaping to another weird mini-scene.
There are even sometimes scenes where within the action of the moment there's a slice of conversation very clearly missing -- for example, three of the characters are testing out a retinal scanner, and after finding that it works in conventional ways, two of them try to fool it by showing it one of each of their eyes to scan. But between the "this is how it works" moment and the "let's try and trick it" moment, there's a really rough cut where them coming up with the idea to trick it was clearly meant to go.
It's evident that this was done to tell the most story in the least amount of time, since at this point in television even a 22-minute sitcom was pushing the boundaries of length. But in a way I think it also suggests some reasons the show was so popular. Watching a show cut in this way, your own mind is doing about 40% of the storytelling, and if you're telling a story to yourself you're more likely to enjoy it than when you're being told a full cohesive story, since you have more control over the narrative and can tailor it to your preferences.
It's truly wild to see a fevered collage of mildly suggestive innuendo and jokes designed to appeal to a 4chan teen from 2005 semi-convincingly pass itself off as a narrative, and be viscerally aware that it did it for twelve years.
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seobinghard · 3 months ago
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𐙚⭑𓂃 LOVE ON THE STREET ✰
➤ you and wooyoung embark on a top-secret mission to stalk hongjoong on his date but find yourselves unceremoniously caught up in a scandalous street interview for a reality dating show. yikes.
pairing: best friend!wooyoung x fem!reader ⭑ tags: crack, fluff, wooyoung's the biggest flirt, hongjoong mentioned. ⭑ wc: 1k (i think) ⭑ tw: profanity, mention of d word in a sarcastic context.
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"i'm telling you, they're like ninjas."
you and wooyoung are on a classified mission to stalk hongjoong on his first date and let's just say, it's not looking too good for you two nosy mfckers. you keep losing track of the couple, there's too many people at the plaza, and you're sweating your assess off under the midsummer sun trying to navigate your way through a sea of shoppers.
"woo, i think i'm gonna faint," you breath out. "like, actually."
"grab onto me," wooyoung tells you, tightening his grip on your interlaced hands as he leads you through the crowded square, unaware of the blush that's crept up your cheeks. "oh! wait, i see them! let's go!"
hand-in-hand, you sprint across the streets like two stray chickens charging at their prey—hongjoong and his date, chatting about outside a buzzling pizza stand with not a single clue they're being followed.
wooyoung spots a bush near a lemonade stall opposite the pizza stand. "there! let's hide. i need to know what the fuck they're talking about."
talk about nosiness—you got nothing on wooyoung.
you both scurry over to the bush, keeping your heads low. but just as you're meters away from your hideout, a group of people stops you on your tracks, shoving a gigantic microphone in your faces.
"what the fuck!" wooyoung hisses, eyes darting to the pizza stand only to realise hongjoong is gone.
"spotted! a cute young couple!" the street interviewer—a woman no older than thirty—chirps merrily, signalling her sound crew to come closer. "do you mind introducing yourselves and share with us how long you've been dating?"
you spot a pink logo on the mic—'LOVE ON THE STREET'.
oh my god. this isn't some lowkey tiktok street interviewer with 20k followers looking to grow her channel. no, this lady's an actual tv host with a whole production crew and you're on national fucking television for a reality dating show. oh my god.
your jaw is on the ground and wooyoung is pissed.
"we're not dating and we're not interested," wooyoung politely rejects with a frown.
he grabs your hand and attempts to make a dash but is blocked by the camera man who unabashedly zooms in on your interlocked fingers.
"ooooh, what do we have here—you're holding hands!" the host chimes cattily, sounding like one of those scandalous reality tv commentators; very 'gossip girl'-esque. "you guys sure you're not dating?"
wooyoung's patience is running thin. "alright, what do you want?"
"bro, we're on tv! don't be rude!" you whisper quietly.
wooyoung hasn't let go of your hand. instead, he looks straight into the camera with a deadpan look like a scene from 'the office' and says, "what do you want me to say, huh? that we're dating? oh! guess what? we're actually married. yes, yes, that's right. shocker. baby, show 'em your ring."
"what ring!" you hiss quietly in his ear.
wooyoung continues with the most serious face, lying straight through he teeth, "we've also got a golden retriever and three kids. a nine year old, a seven year old and a toddler—"
"wow you guys have been busy, huh? and um, a nine year old? correct me if i'm wrong but you both look so young!" the host laughs dramatically.
"yeah, we're high school sweethearts. got a problem?"
you want to die. he did not just insinuate you're teen parents.
"n-no, no!" the host corrects herself, "and are you two lovebirds on a date?"
wooyoung casts her a devilish grin, "yes, and if you don't mind, my wife is tired and we need to leave."
with that, wooyoung whisks you away as quick as he can into the ac-ventilated coolness of the shopping mall. he still hasn't let go of your hand.
a calm silence settles between the both of you. the air feels different. none of you brought up the whole interview and none of you seem like you want to continue mission 'stalk hongjoong' after running around town like headless chickens in the heat. so you decide to settle down in a baby blue booth at a japanese dessert cafe somewhere on level five by the wall-to-ceiling windows.
"you don't like the cake?" wooyoung asks before taking a long slurp from his strawberry milkshake.
you glance down at the strawberry cream cake, mindlessly poking the icing-dusted strawberry with your fork. "it's good."
"why aren't you eating?"
maybe because you just announced to the whole world we're married with three kids and a dog ??? — is what you want to yell at him but instead, you calmly lie, "i have ibs."
wooyoung lets out a verbal 'LOL' then proceeds to rake his bag for a familiar green bottle of ibs medication. you don't even realise he's been carrying one of those with him—he doesn't even have ibs. wooyoung coolly hands you a pill. "take this."
"thanks," you mutter, pretending to swallow the pill only to swiftly spit it back into your palm when he's not looking.
ugh, why does it feel so awkward all of a sudden. awkwardness and wooyoung has never coexisted, even during your most embarrassing moments like that one time in eleventh grade when he walked in on you with nothing but your spongebob underwear on. or that one time he farted in the car and you almost died from the fumes. it's always been fun and games with wooyoung. nothing is ever serious for the both of you—that's why you click.
until now.
"y/n, what's wrong? i can see it in your face so don't even lie to me," wooyoung threatens playfully as he steals a bite from your cake.
"i don't know."
what you do know is wooyoung looks so good today with his long black hair, slicked back in a half-up ponytail with the hair tie he stole from your vanity. a few loose strands of hair covers his eyes; eyes that are gazing into yours like it's harbouring something you don't know. his ears are studded with chrome hearts earrings and a matching necklace that dangles off his neck—his favourite. he's wearing the black tee you got for him last christmas. the thought makes you flustered and you can't help but look away.
and of course, wooyoung being quick-witted and sly, instantly catches the dust of pink on your cheeks and smirks, "holy shit, y/n, are you ... shy?"
"no, i'm not!"
"you are!" wooyoung laughs, "no way, is it because of that interview?"
"oh my god, stoppp," you let out a muffled shriek in your palms.
wooyoung is enticed. he's never seen you this shy around him and honestly, he could really get used to it.
"oh, y/n," he coos, drawling your name in a tone so sweet, so flirty it makes your stomach flutter. "if you wanna get married, you could've just asked, silly girl."
he leans in from across the table and whispers, "you want my babies?"
you gawk at him in horror and flick a strawberry at his face. "you perv!"
"ah—" wooyoung yelps, wiping off the smeared cream on his eyelid, "you almost made me blind! the fuck— wait, where are you going?"
you pick up your bag and hurriedly scoot out of the booth. "away from your stupid ass. i can't be in the same space as you right now."
"what, is it 'cause i'm too hot?" wooyoung grins, "just sayin', we'd make a hot married couple, you and me– baby, come back!"
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rafeandonlyrafe · 10 months ago
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the same tv
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, parent death, funerals, robbery, redemption/forgiveness, addiction, drinking (wine, not like hard drinking), tickling, cockwarming, they call themselves kids at one point but at no point are reader or rafe under 18, like itll make sense once you read it in context
the first thing you do when you enter your house is kick off your shoes. the next is to stop holding back your tears as they stream down your face. you can't even sob anymore, just silent, steady tears.
you sigh as you look around the entryway. there's been some changes since you moved away, despite only being out of your parents house for a little over a year. they replaced the grand portrait that was of your mom's parents with one of you, now taking the place of honor.
you look away before you get to the rest of the family photos. you've seen enough at the funeral. you walk further in to the house, bare feet against the shiny wood floor.
you pause when you hear something further in. you haven't forgotten how the old house seemed to speak, groaning and settling during strong winds or when too many people were crammed between it's walls.
this sound seems different, but you're also occasionally sniffling, your ears are shot from blasting music in an attempt to distract yourself, so you shrug it off and walk further into the living room.
the sound suddenly makes sense as you see someone stood in your living room, arms holding up your parents flat screen television, awkwardly trying to carry it.
you aren't even mad. you honestly don't care about the tv. or the fact that someone is trying to rob you.
you let out a bitter laugh before you sink to the floor. “of fucking course this happens.” you are glad you still have your purse slung from your shoulder as you pull your wallet out, quite aggressively throwing it at the robber who has now frozen.
“what?” he questions, lowering the tv to the ground and pushing his hood of his head, a dumb move for someone currently committing a crime.
“this has been the worst week of my life and now you're robbing me. just my fucking luck…” you let out a broken sob. “just take whatever you want and leave.”
the only things that matter to you still in the house aren't actually worth anything anyways. the photos of your parents, your dad's cologne that's half empty, the oak tree that your childhood dog is buried next to.
“i thought the people who lived here died.”
you pick your head up, a look of fury overtaking your face.
“they did. they're my fucking parents! and now they're gone and you're fucking robbing me! get the fuck out!” you stand up, pushing at the robbers chest.
he looks familiar, like you should know who he is but can't place him.
“im-shit. im sorry.” he says, allowing you to shove him away and out the door. 
“im really fucking sorry!” he yells again before you slam the door shut.
-- years later --
you park your car in the driveway instead of pulling it all the way into the garage like you know you should, but you need to know if you're correct about the man sitting on your front step.
“you're the kid that tried to rob me.” you say as you walk the sidewalk to the porch.
“yes.” he says, looking ashamed and a whole lot more grown up. “i was an addict and i owed a debt. my dad had just kicked me out of the house and i was on my own for the first time. it was stupid of me, but when i heard the people living here died, i thought it'd be a victimless crime.”
he sighs deeply, like even just thinking back to that time physically hurts. “i didn't even think that someone could have inherited the house. im so, so sorry.” 
he swallows thickly. “my mom died when i was young. my dad- my dad just died recently. he faked his death and i got him back, but he's actually gone this time. you know what you said about the worst week in your life?”
you think back those years. it's mostly a blur, especially the days surrounding your parents car crash and funeral, but you do remember breaking down in front of the robber. you nod gently, waiting to hear the end of his speal.
“i know what you mean now. and im sorry i hurt you. im sorry about your parents dying.” he pulls something out of his pocket, extending his hand.
you look into his open palm, realizing it's a ornate gold necklace.
“no.” you shake your head. “you keep it. you don't need to bribe me to forgive you.”
“i want you to have it.” he says. “it's… it's not a lot, but it's something. something to help make up for what ive done.”
you reach forward, carefully taking the necklace out of his outstretched hand, carefully not to accidentally bump his skin. 
“thank you.” you say, admiring the way the sun gleams off the metal. 
“im rafe, by the way. rafe cameron.”
“y/n.” you respond, undoing the clasp of the necklace.
“here, let me.” he takes it out of your hands, moving quicker than you can think as he steps around you. your hair is already up in a bun, so rafe is able to reach around and easily place the chain around your neck.
“thank you.” the weight of the necklace feels comfortable against your skin, like it's the last finishing touch you need. you are wearing your mother's earrings, your father's bracelet, and now you have the other piece of what made that time in your life so miserable, your robbers necklace.
“i… i guess ill be going now.” rafe says.
you turn and watch him walk away. you recognize so much of your former self in him, the clear grieving he's going through.
“are you sober now?” you call out before he reaches the end of your driveway.
“sober enough.” he shouts back. rafe doubts he'll ever truly be clean, but he can at least manage now, doesn't need the drugs like he used to.
“then come back for dinner tomorrow. we can talk.”
you can see the smile stretch over his features. “ill be there.”
-- three months later --
“shit.” rafe says, head snapping over to you. “this is the same tv.”
you giggle and nod, surprised it took him so long to realize. “i never really watch tv on the actual tv, so no need to replace it.” you shrug, the gold necklace still draped over your neck. you haven't taken it off except to shower and sleep.
“god, thats crazy.” rafe looks over to you. “imagine if we just talked back then.” 
you shake your head. “you just think you want that because we get along now. we were both in bad places.”
“you don't think we would have been hooking up back then?” rafe asks, raising an eyebrow at you, watching the way your thighs press together at the mere mention of hooking up, already feeling the urge to sleep with rafe even after having sex only a couple of hours ago.
“we were two scared kids. if we were hooking up we definitely shouldn't have been.” you giggle, reaching your wine glass out for rafe to refill, which he is glad to pour a more than healthy amount in.
“and now?” rafe looks down at his lap.
“and now we are two slighty less scared slightly older kids.” you giggle again, taking a deep sip before leaning across the couch cushion to press a kiss to rafes cheek, the movie you had put on long forgotten.
“rafe.” you wait until he looks you in the eye. “im here for you.”
“god, what have i done to deserve you?” rafe wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you on top of him as he flops back onto the couch. 
you let out a laugh before it's cut off with his lips. he kisses you heavily, hand against the back of your head, not allowing you to pull away, not that you want to.
you let himself get lost in your kiss. you wish you had someone to support you in the time you needed most, and you're determined to be that person for rafe now.
rafe easily dominates your mouth even though he's underneath you as you quickly work your shorts off, wiggling against him until your bottom half is nude.
you press against rafes crotch, still covered by his sweatpants. you feel his cock straining against the fabric as you rub your pussy against it, wetting the gray material.
“baby, please.” rafe groans. he would pull his cock out himself, but his hands are preoccupied holding you close to him as if his life depends on it.
“oh, now you don't like teasing?” you smile.
“alright, i deserve this.” rafe also manages a chuckle despite his straining erection. “but please. need to feel your pussy ‘round me.”
“alright.” you roll your eyes dramatically. you'll have to get revenge on rafe at a different time for edging you the other night.
you push his pants down his thighs until you're able to reach into his underwear and pull out his cock. you give him a few quick strokes before lining up your entrance and sinking down.
rafe let's out a moan, barely pulling his face away from yours. “you're so wet.”
“it's almost like i like you or something.” you roll your eyes.
rafe laughs before kissing you again, hand moving up to your hair, tangling his fingers between the strands.
you sit on his cock for a moment, adjusting, before beginning to move, up then down, up then down, subtle movements of your hips, not needing anything fast, wanting drawn out, wanting it to last.
the movie is long over by the time rafe finally cums, a hand finally moving down to rub your clit to make sure you get off at the same time as his.
by the time you're both satisfied, you're sweaty and exhausted. you don't even bother to pull off his cock as you rest your head against his chest.
“thank you.” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your back. you don't need to ask what for. you know. for being there. you'll always be there.
you look up at him, a small smile on your face. “how are we gonna tell people we met?”
things are quickly getting serious, and while he hasn't breached the subject with you yet, neither of you have been hiding how quickly you're falling.
“what, you think it's a problem that we met when i was robbing you?” rafe says, making you giggle, only intensified by his hand pressing into your side, fingers tickling you as you howl with laughter.
rafe flips you over onto your back so you're underneath him, keeping his cock pushed inside of you.
“maybe we should just tell people we met on tinder.” rafe shrugs.
you roll your eyes. “somehow that's more embarrassing.”
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togglesbloggle · 2 months ago
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Insofar as I have a principled position on the matter- and I don’t, not really- it’s this: art does have the ability to alter our values and our way of interpreting the world. It’s absolutely a live grenade, and should be taken seriously as such.
Like, of course it does! Probably you can point to some book, some film, some story somewhere that touched you not just deeply but irrevocably. There are moments of aesthetic experience which give a before and after to our lives, just as surely as moments of extraordinary suffering or extraordinary joy can.
I’m lucky enough to have more than a few I can list off, personally. Profoundly transformative ones like Evelyn Waugh’s Brideshead Revisited or the music of John Cage, sure. But maybe even more interesting (tractable?) to me were small moments of grace like the one I found in the Dragonlance novels by Weis and Hickman: the dark wizard Raistlin Majere wove back and forth across the line between ‘hero’ and ‘villain’ in exactly such a way that, after reading his books at a young age, I immediately and quite distinctly overcame my fear of the dark.
What a wonderful thing for a book to do! I’d be hard-pressed to explain exactly how, if only because I’m such a different person now than I was then. Perhaps your own intuition will bridge the gap a bit. It was all tied up with this distinction between good and evil, you see, and with the ability to stare in to the face of evil things without flinching, to understand that they have contingency and history just like good things do, and to be in some sense in community with them.
That was a long, long time ago, and I don’t think my model of the world even has evil in it any more, not in the sense that I believed in it then. But my fear of the dark never came back, either.
I don’t believe for a minute that Weis and Hickman had any idea that they were giving me that gift in particular, nor did they have any sensible means to achieve such a goal even if they somehow wanted to. It wasn’t a transformation mediated by intent, you know? It didn’t reduce to an argument that I believed or disbelieved in some intellectual way, or to some specific controlled experience that the authors had planned for me.
Art is transformative, but not in the way that effective polemic is transformative. It doesn't (principally) reason with us or persuade us. Rather, I think art is dangerous for the same reasons that travel to a foreign country is dangerous, or a friendship with somebody new is dangerous. It threatens us by expanding our conscious history to include new categories of experience, that is, by changing the context in which we go about the business of living.
It's wrong to think of art mostly as a tug-of-war dragging hapless consumers from one ideology to another, with the victory going to whichever faction can fill the algorithm with mass-produced and doctrinally compliant stories clamoring endlessly for their views. Normalization has its power, don't get me wrong, but there will always be far greater power in a single glimpse over the horizon.
Think about Whoopi Goldberg's account of seeing Nichelle Nichol's Uhura on television:
“Well, when I was nine years old Star Trek came on. I looked at it and I went screaming through the house, ‘Come here, mum, everybody, come quick, come quick, there’s a black lady on television and she ain’t no maid!’ I knew right then and there I could be anything I wanted to be.”
Once. It took one time, and the walls fell away, and everything was possible. The fashions and approved styles may come and go with the seasons, but the outer perimeter of our experiences, and the sense of what the world could be, can only ever grow, and sometimes it grows by leaps and bounds in an instant.
I guess this is why I tend to think of censorship and control over media as basically quixotic. Sure, with enough energy you can control what's normal and what's public, but controlling what's possible is an exercise in futility on a grand scale. You can never win that fight, only lose it fast or slow.
We all have this remarkably unpredictable collection of soft places and hard places: some things in us that deform to match the shape of their environment, and other things that break us before they can bend. And we all try to find a way to make these strange shapes work within the limits of our own experience and the world as we understand it. Some of us thrive in communities and cultures where others die gasping, and some of us spend our entire lives trying to smash through excruciating barriers that others can't even detect.
Art is one of the things that expands those limits, gives the strange creature inside us a little bit of room to stretch and grow and find a space for the hard bits to arrange themselves as they need to be. But it can't do that without changing the soft parts as well, because the soft parts need external force to maintain their shape. Socialization and ideology can only weakly bind us, because they rely on deliberate and conscious pressures to conform; ignorance is stronger, because it denies us the choice altogether. Without art, you'll never really be able to learn what kind of animal you are, as opposed to the kind of person your world has told you to be. But art will change you, too, as discovery always will.
The life you have now has real value- great beauty, and great meaning. For all that you are defined in part by the walls of your cage, knowledge and new experiences are not something to accept lightly, and they can never be undone. All I can say, really, is that I've never once regretted it.
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vivwritesfics · 11 months ago
Text
Fire Is The Devils Only Friend
Chapter Five
There was no such thing as making it on your own with a high profile boyfriend. That was why she kept her relationship a secret. But then after a PR fuck up, her boyfriend is forced into PR relationship and she's left on the side lines, missing him
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Carlos didn't tell her that he had bought her book. He didn't mention it when he kissed her goodbye, leaving her with Piñón. But it was in his bag as he headed to the Grand Prix.
With Rebecca Donaldson at the Grand Prix, there was very little Carlos could do to show her that he loved her. But any spare moment he got, he was reading her book. In his drivers room, in the back of the garage when he wasn't needed, he had her book open.
Fans noticed immediately. They first noticed that he was reading. But then they took notice of what he was reading. At first it was no big deal. She'd been in the garage a couple of months ago, so it wasn't the most outlandish thing in the world.
But then one fan pointed out that the book had only been released in English. He was reading the book in English!
The theories from the fans started. Well, were they theories if they were correct? The ferrari media team watched if all unfold. They knew they had to get on top of it and quick.
So, while she was sending her mother a picture of Piñón with his head on her lap, a picture was circulating instagram. She hadn't touched instagram since the day she found out about Carlos and Rebecca, and she didn't touch it this time.
A screenshot from Carlos's account, his latest post, in fact, was he and Rebecca Donaldson, hand in hand as he kissed her head, popped up below the picture she had sent her mother. 'Is this him?' Her mother had typed beneath the picture.
"Fuck," she choked, turning the phone off and throwing it to the side. Piñón went to chase after the phone, but she held onto his collar, crying against his fur.
She thought she was okay with it, but she wasn't. She hadn't been prepared for the onslaught of emotions that came with seeing that picture.
"He kisses my head like that," she said to Piñón. "I don't think we have any pictures like that together."
Of course, she didn't know the context, didn't know why that picture had been posted. She didn't know it was because Carlos had been caught reading her book, and that fans were beginning to get suspicious.
She wiped her tears and grabbed Piñón's lead. Taking nothing but a set of keys, she left their house and took Piñón for a walk.
It was therapeutic, taking Piñón on his walk. He led the way, taking her on the trail he usually walked with Carlos. The three of them had never gone together. It was usually Carlos. Normally, when she took Piñón, she was careful, avoiding main roads and potential pictures being taken.
But, today, she couldn't find it in herself to care.
"Is it my fault?" She asked Piñón as she sat on a bench. "I mean, if I hadn't been so against us being public in the first place would this have happened?"
Of course, Piñón didn't answer. He couldn't answer. He was a dog.
She thought she could do this. She certainly loved Carlos enough to try. But this, seeing another beautiful woman doing all of the things she wished she could do with him, was too much.
And even if Carlos publicly broke things off with Rebecca for her, he'd always be seen as a cheater and she'd always be seen as the other woman. It could ruin her life.
Well no, that was exaggeration. But she didn't see it that way, she wasn't going to see that way, not for a while. At the moment, Piñón was the only thing keeping her there.
Carlos was on the podium. It was a win, actually. She watched on the television as he stayed ahead of the rest of the grid. He was showing Ferrari exactly what they would miss if they dropped him. It gave her a little slither of hope.
But that hope soon dissipated. She wore a small smile as Carlos climbed out of the car. He ran over to celebrate with his team, and then his father. The father that didn't know she existed.
Behind his father, she was there. Carlos hugged her as she stepped towards the barrier. Hugging wasn't so bad; they couldn't be seen ignoring each other, after all.
But then Rebecca's hands were on his face and she pulled him in for a kiss. The camera zoomed in on them as Carlos shut his eyes, melting into her.
Fuck, she couldn't do this.
For the second time in two weeks, she packed up her things and placed them in her car. Tears rolled down her sheets as she turned the few frames full of pictures of her and Carlos around so that they were facing the wall.
Last, she grabbed Piñón's bed. He wasn't her dog, and she had no intention of keeping him from Carlos, but she was going to take him with her, keep him well looked after while Carlos was away.
And then, when Carlos came to pick him up, she'd break up with him.
Piñón sat in the back of the car as she drove to her mother's house. "Oh, buddy," she whispered. As they drove. He slept on the drive, unaware that anything was wrong. She couldn't help but be envious of him, of how unaware he was of what was going on.
Her mother opened the door as soon as she saw her car coming up the drive. "You couldn't do it, could you?" She called, watching her climb out of the car.
She scowled as she grabbed Piñón. When she saw him, her mother gasped and let out a laugh. "You kidnapped his dog? That's hilarious," she said taking the dogs lead from her daughter.
Her daughter, who said nothing as she got her things from the car. Her mother could never understand this, could never understand what she was going through.
"I saw them doing all of the things that I wanted to do with him," she said quietly as she walked into the house and unclipped Piñón's lead. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't watch it, I couldn't watch him pretend to be with her while I sat at home, looking after his dog."
She scratched Piñón's ears. Piñón, who, at that moment, she'd miss most of all.
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cazzyf1 · 11 months ago
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pls tell me everything you know about the 1982 drivers strike i think about it often
Right I about to go into as much detail as possible about the driver's strike while hopefully keeping it comprehensible.
*cracks knuckles*
Let's go.
So to give some overall context to the situation, Bernie Ecclestone was doing some meddling. He had control over the Formula One Constructors Association (FOCA) which meant he could negotiate contracts between teams, track owners, television rights, etc. Realising the sort of power Bernie Ecclestone was getting, the Federation Internationale de I'Automobile (FIA) put Jean-Marie Balestre in charge. There was a big power struggle between these two however both Ecclestone and Balestre united against the drivers in 1982.
At the start of the 1982 season, a new license called a 'super license' was put forward for the drivers to sign. This license was based on other sports, like football's transfer systems, meaning the drivers had fewer rights - their team owners essentially owned them. For example, the super licence meant a team could keep drivers to one team for up to three years, even if the drivers wanted to leave. This happened after, in 1981, Alain Prost was racing for McLaren, and he became convinced that the car wasn't safe. He refused to drive for the team, though he had a contract. He said if necessary, he would walk away from the sport altogether. Then Renault approached Alain Prost, and he joined them. A new license was created to prevent this situation from happening again.
1982 was also the season that (at the time) 2x World Champion Niki Lauda decided to come out of retirement. In 1979 he had been racing for Bernie Ecclestone's team 'Brabham', but halfway through the season, he walked away, finding no more interest in the sport. Eventually Ron Dennis, who ran the team 'Mclaren' tempted Niki back into the sport.
Niki was sent the super license a few days before the start of the season to sign, and being a stickler for detail he made sure to read through all of it. In reading it, Niki realised the control the team owners would have over the drivers and did not approve of it. Quickly, he rang up Didier Pironi who was head of the drivers association, to talk him through what he had found. Didier agreed that these licenses were bad and then called all the other drivers, telling them not to sign the licence. They had been late though, as 24 had technically already signed as they hadn't properly read the licence. The only ones that hadn't were Lauda, Pironi, Villeneuve who had seen something similar in ice hockey and didn't like it, Arnoux, Giacomelli and de Cesaris.
In South Africa, Kyalami the track was prepared for the drivers to start practising, and the drivers were arriving in their normal cars. But before they could get out on track, a bus pulled up with Niki Lauda and Pironi in it. Without their knowledge, Niki and Didier had managed to borrow a bus from Trevor Rowe and were ready to take the drivers back to their hotel at the Kyalami Ranch. They rounded up all the drivers and told them of their plans, and while they were hesitant, eventually, most of them were convinced to get onto the bus. Only two didn't. Jochen Mass, who was late (He's always late, someone said) and Jacky Ickx.
The team owner of March, John McDonald, caught wind of what was happening and tried to prevent the bus from leaving by parking a van in front of the bus. Jacques Laffite got out of the bus to move the van, accidentally stalled it, but eventually got it out of the way. The bus then set off, taking the scenic route back to the Sunnyside Park Hotel while every news van and car chased after the bus, getting clips of Niki Lauda looking out the back of the bus and waving at them.
Eventually, they arrived, and all of them strutted past the journalists and went into the hotel. Thus ensued a fun time for the drivers relaxing around by the pool for the day. However, things back at the track were not shaping up well.
Bernie Ecclestone and Jean-Marie Balestre were pissed. The race organisers threatened to impound the cars, Bernie Ecclestone threatened to sue the drivers, and Balestre announced if the drivers didn't come back, then they would all be fired. Bernie Ecclestone had already fired the drivers from his team, Nelson Piquet and Riccardo Patrese. The mechanics put signs out joking advertising for new drivers. Didier Pironi was doing the main negotiations for the drivers at the track and reporting back to Niki Lauda at the hotel on how it was progressing. During the evening, when dinner was being served, the driver's wives and girlfriends, who were still at the track, started throwing bread rolls at Balestre.
Didier Pironi arrived at the hotel and explained that if they didn't return and drive immediately, they risked life bans. Niki Lauda realised that this strike would last the night, and he knew that if all the drivers returned to their own rooms, the team principles would easily be able to convince them to abandon the strike. They needed to stay united, which meant literally sticking together. He arranged to take over the conference room in the hotel and have all the spare mattresses brought into the room.
All the drivers moved into this one big room, and soon, the entertainment started. Many of the younger drivers felt quite panicked about the whole situation, worried that they would be fired for going on strike, which would have ended any career in motorsports, so they went to the older drivers like Niki for reassurance. Niki tried to lighten up the atmosphere by telling dirty jokes. Bruno Giacomelli, who was quite passionate about machine guns, got his hands on a chart and gave a presentation on how to take a gun to bits. There was also a piano in the room, and driver Elio de Angelis, trained to play the piano, performed for all the drivers. Everyone there said it was the most beautiful playing they had ever heard. Gilles Villeneuve also had a go playing a few joyful pieces.
The team owners and journalists had by now discovered that all the drivers were hiding out in this one big room, and they were trying to get in. At first, Niki gave an interview by the door, but he ensured no one would leave the room. One of the team principles, Mo Nunn of Ensign, had brought the driver, Guerrero's girlfriend, along as a bargaining trip. Niki made sure to accompany Guerrero to see his girlfriend. He said that the situation could have brought a tear to your eye. Eventually, they got the girlfriend away from the team principal and into the room. Team principal Jean Sage of Renault tried to get to Prost and Arnoux but was beaten off.
At this point, the team principals grew frustrated and decided to break into the room, so the drivers had to use the piano to barricade the door.
Then night came, and it was time for the drivers to get even closer. There were not enough mattresses for one each, meaning all the drivers had to bunk up. Many funny photographs have come from this event. Alain Prost and Giles Villeneuve shared a mattress, which led to Patrick Tambay saying if a child came from this, all the others might as well give up.
There was a problem with the toilet as there was only one and it wasn't in the room. There was a key to the toilet and so the drivers agreed to leave it in the middle of the room so they would know if someone left to the toilet and didn't come back. One driver, Fabi, ended up going to the toilet but did not come back.
During the night, Carlos Reuntemann or Keke Rosberg snored so loudly that Gilles Villeneuve threw a blanket over them to cover the sound.
In the morning, all the drivers got up, trying hard not to sniff the odour of the room and got ready to head to the track as Didier Pironi had been able to successfully negotiate a licence they were happy with. No drivers were fired, Nelson Piquet and Riccardo Paterese were rehired, and the race was successful. There were fears that the drivers could be arrested at the airport, but thankfully, that didn't happen. Instead, they were fined for taking part in the strike, which, while it didn't affect some drivers who already had plenty of money, it wasn't ideal for the drivers who were just getting started.
This is as much as I am able to remember; if you know anything more or if there is something wrong in this let me know in the comments below! Hope you enjoyed the read :)
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scoobydoodean · 1 year ago
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what is your opinion on people calling dean a heavy misogynist? i don’t agree personally but i feel like you could put my thoughts into better words
First, I have to chuckle a little at "heavy misogynist". Apparently, some people have begun to realize their fave is also guilty of misogyny crimes therefore they focus on making sure all of us know Sam is a light misogynist and Dean is a heavy misogynist. I just find that amusing.
This is a broad topic in a long show, so I won't endeavor to address every conceivable incidence of misogyny in the show I can think of. Instead, I'm going to create a few headings, at least one of which I think most criticism falls under.
Misogyny through the writing team
How Sam's misogyny gets a pass
Purity culture wank and Dean performing for Sam
How Dean actually treats women
Misogyny Through The Writing Team
First, Supernatural in of itself has issues with misogyny—as in, the writers of the show (including female writers) have issues with misogyny which they are happy to put on display semi-frequently. The show started in 2005, during a period of time where casual sexism was absolutely rampant on TV and no one thought anything about it. Female celebrities were regularly mocked and dragged on cable television in a way men simply weren't. They were called bitches and skanks and whores, and even "progressive" voices were inundated with casual misogyny and a fixation on purity culture (that largely applied to women only). Quite simply, I think fandom tends to be far too generous toward the writers, assuming certain things were "flaws" the writers intentionally wrote for the characters.
Put another way, there are some criticisms I prefer to level at the writing team rather than the characters, because what is written plainly reflects their ignorance in the real world rather than any intent to give Sam or Dean or any other character meaningful flaws—much less outright terrible ones that greatly harm their image. I'll give a few examples:
2.17 "Heart" makes me very uncomfortable as I sit here in 2024 and observe how Sam and Madison's romance develops. Me feeling that way does not mean the authorial intent of 2007 Sera Gamble was that I think to myself, "Man Sam comes off as uncomfortably rapey here." Hopelessly bad with women, perhaps—but not creepy.
In season 2, the writers begin to develop a running “joke” that Sam is afraid of not just clowns but also little people. The latter “joke” is (wisely) dropped fairly quickly. I have never criticized Sam for being afraid of little people, and I never will. It is readily apparent to me that this running "joke" reflects the ignorance of the writing team rather than an intent to give Sam meaningful or interesting flaws. Their intent was to use little people as the butt of a joke. I personally find this "joke" distasteful, and the idea of trying to take that and somehow "dunk" on Sam for the bigotry of the writers is more distasteful to me.
This is also how I feel about the running "joke" of a porn magazine and website (BAB) that solely features Asian women, that is put on display on multiple occasions during the show—first in 2.15 "Tall Tales", where the context is Gabriel infecting Sam's laptop with a virus from the website and making him believe Dean is responsible. BAB continues to make "Easter Egg" appearances in the show afterward. While often associated with Dean by fandom, the writers clearly think of BAB as a general, "funny" (it isn't), running gag with no more depth than "haha men like porn funny". An issue is stolen by a sentient teddy bear in 4.08 "Wishful Thinking". An issue is owned by the teenager who swapped bodies with Sam in 5.12 "Swap Meat". The Men of Letters also collected a considerable number of issues (8.17). I simply do not believe the writers thought for a single moment about BAB being a grossly racist gag. They most certainly did not write it as an intentional criticism of Dean from that perspective. It reflects nothing but their ignorance and racism here in the real world, and absolutely SHOULD be criticized from that REAL WORLD impact.
How Sam's misogyny largely gets a pass
One of the things I have not been able to stop noticing on this rewatch is Sam's issues with misogyny, and how often Sam's misogyny comes out in conflicts with Dean... starting from the very first episode of the show. Pretty much any time you get anything that feels like it might be a misogynist Dean or horn dog Dean moment... Sam either just has or is about to follow that up with some misogyny of his own.
In 1.01, right after entering Sam's apartment and meeting Jess, Dean mentions the Smurfs on Jess's shirt. We think to ourselves "Okay. A little misogynist... a little horn-dog Dean." Sam is happy to 1-Up that in two ways. First, Jess voices her intentions to go get dressed. Dean dismisses this, but while doing so, makes it clear he intends to leave the room with Sam, as he'd like to have a private conversation with Sam anyway. Sam objects, walking over to Jess and putting an arm around her, demanding Dean say whatever he needs to say right then and there. Maybe this would feel supportive if Jess wasn't in her underwear and hadn't just made it clear that now that the panic over a possible break-in is over, she'd really like to not be in her underwear in front of a stranger. But nope. By god she needs to stand there so Sam can prove a point about misogynist Dean! Second, Sam immediately (and I think quite erroneously) jumps to imply Dean is trying to cut Jess out of the conversation because she's... a woman? Or... something? He makes a big show of moving over Jess and standing beside her, saying anything Dean has to say, he can say in front of Jess. However, the moment Sam actually understands that Dean is here because John is missing on a hunting trip, he dismisses Jess to speak to Dean alone... because he's lying to her. By painting Dean erroneously with this "The men are talking" bullshit that had nothing to do with anything, Sam sets himself up to be viewed as a misogynist by his own framing of the situation and what it means to leave Jess out of a discussion. He also reveals his own alleged principles as a performative illusion. Despite being his intended life partner, Sam never intends to tell the woman he loves about his past as a hunter (he makes this clear later on the bridge). However, I think because Sam's actions usually co-occur with what gets called out more directly or more immediately recognized as misogyny from Dean (should have gotten him for the Smurf's comment, Sam!) Sam's misogyny often flies under the radar... and he's really... pretty bad.
I spoke here at length about how Sam tends to look down on women who interact with Dean (often before meeting them). There is absolutely an intersection with purity culture here and there's discussion in that thread about that as well, and whether this is a "2000s writers" issue or intentionally written flaws.
In 1.06, Sam cuts Dean off before Dean can accept an offered beer from Rebecca, but then as soon as Sam needs Rebecca out of the room, Sam asks her to not just bring them those beers... but also fix them sandwiches. Rebecca says, "What do you think this is, Hooters?" and Dean mumbles, "I wish" and we somehow lose sight of the fact that Sam literally just asked a woman to make him sandwiches which is possibly the number one misogynist man trope. Sam vaguely suggests Dean is a misogynist in 1.19 for nudging Sam to go on a date with Sarah Blake and possibly get information on the case, because that would be "using" her, but Sam wants to "use" Meg Masters in 1.22 and he wants to "use" Ruby to get what he wants, and when he said getting information from women was "Dean's job", he was also showing he was perfectly willing to use Dean and Sarah—he just doesn't want to get his hands dirty. It also comes to light in 1.19 that this is more about Sam's belief that he has to protect women from him, and Sarah herself ends up calling Sam antiquated for it.
I mentioned before that Sam doesn't plan to ever tell Jess who he is, and he makes the same plans with Amelia. Dean, meanwhile, confides in Cassie (it's what leads to their breakup) as well as Lisa.
I also have to mention... one of the funniest things I see deancrit samgirls in particular dig at time after time after time is Dean calling women "bitches". Never mind that Sam also calls women like Ruby and Bela bitches and calls a woman a bitch in front of Madison. Apparently none of these occurrences count because... *looks at notes* reasons. "Bitch" only counts as misogyny when it's Dean saying it. Also, let's not mention that Sam exclusively uses the word "bitch" to refer to women, while Dean also calls men and creatures bitches at different points so it isn't a gender specific insult for him.
Dean is definitely the "heavy" misogynist here... right? (I guess Sam is a "tall" misogynist instead).
Purity culture wank and Dean performing for Sam
Dean is commonly treated in fandom as if he's some kind of sex pest, and quite blatantly... he isn't one. Women almost always proposition Dean first (thejabberwock has sets on this here and here), but him asking people out also isn't inherently creepy in any way? Co-occurring with Sam's purity culture inundated judgements, we often see fandom's own as well, where Dean is some kind of sex pest because he... likes women? Or... because he has sex with consenting women who also want to have sex with him? Sometimes it's giving purity culture wank, sometimes it's given big radfem energy... but regardless, I sometimes see people talk about Dean like him so much as making eye contact with a woman is a violent sexual threat, and that's just laughable—as is denying the agency and autonomy of consenting women in general.
Even though it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, I'll also add that Dean... doesn't even actually have sex with the frequency that people talk about it? Dean has sex with Cassie—who was a long term partner of his in 1.13. He has sex with an actress in 2.18, and with Doublemint twins in 3.01. He has sex with a waitress 4.05. He plans to have sex with someone in 3.04, but turns her down when he realizes she's a prostitute who's working. This happens again in 10.07. I'm on season 4 of my rewatch and haven't been formally keeping up... but Dean is not actually having a lot of sex? We get implications he's been out partying a few times, and can maybe infer he scored, but we don't actually know.
I'm not a huge fan of performing Dean, in the sense that I think over the years I have seen it wildly overstated far too many times. But I do think Dean sometimes plays a character for Sam especially. Dean tells us this himself in 2.03 "Bloodlust" when confiding in Gordon. He never says so directly when it comes to the sexy sex guy doing sex persona, but his actions reveal him. One can think of plenty of examples of Dean saying horny stuff about women to Sam... but what about his actions?
How Dean actually treats women
Finally, there's how Dean actually treats women... and one would be very hard pressed to prove to me that Dean is sexist toward the women in his life. He's been close friends with multiple women and worked with women on hunts on multiple occasions and never once batted an eye. Jo in 2.06 is sometimes floated as an example, but it's actually discussed within the episode. Dean makes it very clear that he thinks women can do the job just fine. What he has a problem with is Jo's lack of experience and her romanticization of the job (especially during a period where Dean has fallen deeply out of love with the job himself). Everything we see as the series progresses supports Dean's assertion as truth. He's very good friends with Charlie, Jody, and Donna and doesn't go around excluding them on hunts while favoring men. That is not a thing that happens. While he initially tries to talk Claire out of the life (as he does everybody—this is not unique to women—see Adam for example) when she decides to hunt, he supports her regardless. There is nothing uniquely overprotective about how Dean treats women who hunt. End of. Dean has no illusions about traditional gender roles or any of that nonsense, jumping to clean dishes after dinner at Jody's and cooking breakfast for Lisa and Ben. (Our knowledge of Dean and the chores he does for his family already tell us this—but regardless). Even Demon Dean, an entity with no love for anyone and close to zero principles, targeted men who abuse and threaten women, and when Crowley ordered him to kill Lester's wife to fulfill the terms of Lester's demon deal, Demon Dean instead became so deeply annoyed with Lester's hypocrisy (he cheated on his wife first) and his assertion that it's different when men cheat, that he killed him and smiled while doing it.
So anyway, nope—I don't think Dean is a "heavy" misogynist.
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chironshorseass · 1 year ago
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what bugs me most about the pjo show is that i know they could’ve done better. i knowwwww they could’ve been as faithful as they wanted to the books. for anyone saying “oh, but it’s an adaptation! it isn’t meant to be the same so stop whining that they took stuff out or that they’re adding things in different order!” well yes, i agree that adaptations aren’t meant to be a carbon copy of the source material for the simple fact that it’s adapting the source material into a different medium (television), yet it’s just that! a form of adapting the things that are unable to be channeled from, say, a book—or on the contrary, adding things that make sense for television but couldn’t be channeled into the books otherwise…all of this in a faithful manner. a good adaptation is one that stays true to the source material by properly adapting its themes, characters, symbolism, context, pacing, and the overall story/plot so as to not only be seen as a sort of love letter to the fans, but also to reach a wider audience.
just look at the hunger games! the movies are so faithful to the books to the point that most of the scenes are taken straight out of the books, dialogue and all. and they’re movies, aka less runtime than a freaking tv show and they still did it better. did the hg movies have to take a few scenes out? yes; they have only so much time to tell the story as it is told in the books. did they resume things, like the games themselves? also yes. but did most of the important scenes and character moments stay in the movies? also also yes. again, THESE ARE MOVIES!!!!! a medium much more limited than a freaking tv series with multiple episodes that have enough run time to add even more scenes from the books than what could be possible in a 2 hour (max) movie!!!!!!!!!!!!!
and yet they STILL changed so much that rly had no business being changed other than that the writers decided they felt like it because…..a lot of it im not even sure. and the worst thing of it all is that freaking rick riordan took part in script writing yet so much of the source material has been watered down???? they make a whole ass episode about a monster fight with the majority of the scenes from said episode not even present in the books instead of sticking to the perfectly good source material???? and by doing so they delete the small details that are very much integral to character development and plot???? huh???? the math isn’t mathing. don’t get me wrong, i do like some changes, but then i think: at what cost do they add these things when there was a perfectly good narrative without it? like, at what cost do we get the whole turning to gold sacrifice scene if they’re gonna take out all the fun details that make the lightning thief the lightning thief? for example the silly water park merch and then annabeth displaying her spider phobia and her mortification at going to the thrill ride of love with percy and then being broadcasted to olympus. this is just one episode, but they’ve been doing it in all of them. and u know, it’s not that i don’t hate-hate most these changes. again, what bugs me is that this was supposed to be a faithful adaptation. again, it’s a tv series, with so much more time to develop everything from the books. rick is behind it, who apparently hated the movies for how unfaithful they were. the cast is great. and yet…the script is so mediocre. the spark is lost. character traits are looked over in place for weird pacing and even weirder changes. if the hunger games could do it, then surely a pjo tv series could as well? apparently not? i really really Don’t Get It.
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luunamoona · 6 months ago
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the way community handled queerness is honestly so peak. like, there're 3 main moments i can think of in the show where queerness was apparent and mentioned: advanced gay, queer studies and advanced waxing and britta's pitch in emotional concequences of broadcast television.
in advanced gay, the cornelius hawthorne is seen as a villian for having traits like being abusive towards his son, pierce, him being really racist and him being homophobic. this acknowledgement of homophobia being a bad thing is definitely good for the early 2010s, as many shows treated being queer as a joke back then. also cornelius being fucking murdered at the end of the episode solidifies the fact his actions were deemed immoral and he therefore had his comeuppance.
community only ever uses queerness as a punchline in the context of troy and abed's relationship, the punchline usually being "look at how romantic these 2 friends are how silly", which could be seen as homophobia as the same context with a man and a woman would be treated differently by the showrunners as it'd be turned into a romantic subplot.
the next example i have is from queer studies and advanced waxing. having the dean tell richie and carl that he "isn't openly anything and gay doesn't begin to cover it" is much more progressive than many other media at that time, and even now, as they'd usually have the queer character just be gay for convenience. this need for convenience is commented on in the episode with richie and carl basically coercing the dean into adopting a label that is inaccurate but convenient for his straight peers. back to my previous point, presenting queerness as being more complex and having more nuance than just gay and straight is something that is very useful to queer viewers as it presents an option beyond these 2 ends of the spectrum. unlike what other shows may do with this concept, community treats it seriously, showing the dean's inner conflict with presenting with an identity that isn't his, with lines like "i feel sick". (also side point, the line "i make gayness look like mormonism" goes so hard)
finally, there's britta's pitch in emotional concequences of broadcast television. in this, the dean protests britta's decision to make him transgender and not "all this other stuff". something i love about that scene is the ability to critique queer represention without insulting it. as a trans person, i've seen a good amount of transphobia is television. this isn't one of these times. being able to have trans identity be a part of the punchline without it being insulted is something that is apparently very hard for screenwriters of sitcoms to do, so i commend them for being able to do that. as well as this, this scene acts as a criticism of how basic queer representation in media is, how they like having one distinct, easy to understand label to give their token character, ignoring "all this other stuff". it's telling us that, like in queer studies and advanced waxing, queer idenity isn't black and white, it's a wide spectrum of identities that comes in many, many different colors.
all in all, community's representation of queerness and how it treats insults to queerness is something a lot of other shows should try to strive for. in my opinion, it has some of the most nuanced takes of queer identity and representation out of any sitcom that doesn't have queer people as a target audience. it feels very fitting, since the show is literally called community and it about a group of misfits who bond over their shared messed up-ness. this show is all about finding your people and accepting everyone, as pierce says in for a few paintballs more, "flaws and all". i think the showrunners had an impression this show would speak to a lot of queer people and i love that they were able to make us feel welcome just as greendale does to the study group.
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highhhfiveee · 1 year ago
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can I request mike, reader, and Abby going to the beach :p!?
[i'm combining this with another ask! they requested the same setting, but with a scenario!]
wc: 3k tags: sweetgf!reader + dickheadbf!mike, light smut (oral [deepthroating and come swallowing], m!receiving), mostly fluff and being grateful for life and the people who you live it with [: proofread but maybe there are still errors! kill me, i'm human! a/n: i wish i could go to the beach so bad!! i fucking love the summer and it's damn near the dead of winter where i live ],: i also get cold so easily and i can't take freezing every morning lmao
i am imagining:
you and mike are sitting on the couch on a late friday morning, hypnotized by daytime television after a big, indulgent breakfast and chats about mike's shift. abby had retreated to the adjacent loveseat, fast asleep with a stomach full of pancakes and eggs.
"it's so hotttt," mike grumbles, stretching his sweaty body out like a starfish. the limbs on his right side invade your space, leaving you to shrink into the couch with a groan.
"yeah, mike, too hot for you to be doing that. stoppp," you return his irritated tone, bringing your hands up to push into him. it was the hottest day of the summer so far, and it wasn't like you weren't also feeling the elements. not even the AC unit turned to full blast could cool the living room, and it made every breath feel thick and labored.
mike stands from his spot on the couch, dramatically dragging his body over to the kitchen. you watch as he yanks the freezer door open with impatience, craning his head into the crystalized cool and saying, "it's too hot to be living."
you turn your body to extend across the whole sofa, thankful that your hair is up and out of your face so you're able to feel the tickle of a breeze on the nape of your neck. you bite at your bottom lip as the gears of your brain churn through a heat-induced fog, thinking of how to keep cool at a time like this.
abby stirs then, stretching and yawning and squealing, "it was hot in my dream too." you turn your head to her, pursing your lips to the side in disappointment.
"aw, abs, i'm sorry. that sucks."
"i was at the beach though, which i think makes up for it---"
"omg, the beach! we should go!" you cheer, but mike shuts you down once he hears abby wholeheartedly agree.
"uh, the closest beach is six hours away."
"well, maybe we can make a weekend out of it," you suggest, motioning for abby to come sit with you. she delicately settles on your thighs, relaxing into the couch and swinging her legs over the edge.
"yeah, with what money?"
"i can dip into my savings a little bit, at least for the hotel and gas," you offer, and mike is shutting you down again, shaking his head as he cranes it towards you and humming "nuh uh"s.
"c'mon mike, i don't mind! listen, i want to do this for us," you're hugging abby into you, pressing your cheeks together and telepathically communicating for her to help you convince mike with her own set of puppy dog eyes. "we'll leave in the evening so you can get some rest, and we can split the drive."
"abby doesn't have a license."
your face scrunches as you confusedly mutter, "why would you include your eleven year old sister in a 'we' of that context?" as abby states, "you're weird, mike." in the same tone.
"i know, my joke didn't land, i guess," mike sighs, letting his head drop between his shoulders as he closes the freezer door. the sound of suction punctuates his action, and he turns to you and abby with a grimace before saying, "three hours behind a steering wheel just doesn't seem appealing. two would be a hell of a lot more digestible."
"oh my god, mike, you're so pitiful," you playfully chide, crossing your arms over your chest. "i promise that you'll survive, grumpy. tell you what, i'll drive four hours so you'll only have to drive two."
the sweet drawl of your voice and trivial suggestion to take on more work is all it takes for mike to fold and drive all six hours.
he doesn't do it with a smile, but you're still grateful for his sacrifice, cupping his face and kissing his cheek as he drives into the sizzling orange pulse of the sunset. "i love youuuu," you sing, and he grumbles for like the millionth time that day as you ignore him and muse, "and abby loves you, and we're gonna have so much fun on our beach weekend!!"
you and abby begin to whoop and cheer and dance in your seats, chanting, "beachbeachbeach!", and you pretend not to notice the slight smirk that cracks the perpetual stiffness of mike's mouth.
you spend the first half of the trip singing along to an old CD abby had burned sometime ago--"you always have to keep a road trip mix on hand"--, playing various word association games, and sucking fluorescent orange dust from your fingers after you chuck a cheeto into mike's mouth and pass the bag back to abby.
the second half is stiller; abby has fallen asleep again, soothed by the motions of the car, and you're staring at mike's side profile as he drives. he's so tired; it's painted in his eyes and over his body, with the way he slumps into the driver's seat and focuses on the road like nothing else is around him.
he catches your gaze after a bit, breaking himself away from his trance. he switches hands on the wheel so he's able to clutch your thigh, gently kneading at your skin, and with a small grin, asks, "got a nice view?"
"yeah, but it seems the view isn't feeling so nice," you raise your hand to his shoulder, your turn to massage into him. he's so tense under your touch, and you watch his eyes flicker with your words, training back on the four lane highway ahead. "i think this will be nice for us. we all deserve a nice vacation; especially you, mikey. you've been working hard, and i know you're tired."
"yeah," mike breathes softly, the gentlest you think he's been all day. "i'm sorry about the way i was acting about the drive. i just couldn't think straight after my shift, your delicious breakfast, and sitting in the heat."
"i understand. three hours of driving isn't fun, but that's why i offered to take more of the load after you made that...bad joke."
"so now it's just categorically bad?" mike pouts with comical sorrow, and you giggle at him, nudging at his shoulder with soft pressure.
"yes, because why was she included in we? obviously abby can't drive."
"it was supposed to be one of my sillies,"
"you're just usually better at them," you argue, and it sends the both of you into a laughing fit that gives you a stomach cramp, mike affirming, "yeah, yeah, you're right, you're right. shit, are you okay?" as you try to calm down.
after relaxing back into a comfortable silence, you're bringing mike's hand to your lips, kissing at his knuckles when he blurts, "thank you for putting up with me, and for paying for stuff so short notice."
"oh hush. i love you, mike. truly. we take care of each other, don't we?" you squeeze his hand as you continue, placing it over your heart. "there hasn't been a second i've been with you where i haven't felt supported, and now it's my turn to support you. plus, this is like abby's first real vacation. i want her to have the best time too. we don't have any money when we're dead, so we might as well say we had experiences, yeah?"
"i love you. you're an angel on earth," mike hums lovingly as he pulls off of an exit, able to relax his head against the headrest and leer at you once he brakes at a red light. "our angel on earth." you writhe under his enamored stare, blushing and gnawing on your bottom lip with an airy giggle, and later, after you've gotten to your hotel and tucked abby into bed, you're back in the car doing that same giggle with his dick lodged in your throat.
"my angel on earth," he repeats as he folds his fingers into your hair so he can pull on it, maintaining eye contact while you sloppily guide yourself on him. his toes curl and his thigh muscles spasm, and he's panting down on your face as his other hand grabs his steering wheel in a white hot grip. "fuck, baby."
you're grateful that you were able to book a room facing outwards on the first floor of the hotel; you could be disgusting with mike in the car while ensuring abby's safety through the front windshield.
it helped solidify that there were no worries in your orbit; everything here was perfect, and you feed that passion into taking mike deeper, holding his gaze even as a tear runs down your cheek after an obscene gag that resonates through the whole car.
you swallow around him as you reach down to caress his balls, and crack a triumphant smile when he tenses, brokenly whimpering and bucking his hips into your face with sinful desperation. he doesn't stop as he shoots his come into your mouth, using the hand in your head to tilt your head back so the overflow doesn't choke you.
you moan as you taste him on your tongue, drinking it down while you flash mike the watery, filthy twinkle in your eyes. he thinks that it extends his orgasm, his balls tightening with another spray of white down your throat.
though his body burns with fatigue, mike brings his thumb to the corner of your lips to collect a spilt remnant of himself, pushing it into your mouth where he feels the warm plushiness of your tongue wrap around his digit. "god, i think you're gonna kill me one day. this mouth is deadly."
"one day, yes, but not today or saturday or sunday. not while we're on vacation."
you both retire to the room after, two immovable stone statues in bed until 7 am, when you're both ripped from your sleep by abby's noisy movements. she's enthusiastically throwing the curtains open, drowning you two in painfully bright sunlight and skipping over to hop on the bed, narrowly missing your shins and knees with her uncoordinated steps.
"abby, abby, abby," mike drones groggily, reaching out for her ankles.
you blearily watch as she snatches it out of his reach, and you can't help but laugh as you two make eye contact. "come on!! we're on vacation!! we've gotta start vacationing now!!"
"we don't have to start at...seven twenty-two in the morning," mike complains, wiping at his eyes after throwing his gaze to the alarm clock. "maybe we can do...ten."
"ten is way too late! if we eat now, we can wait it out and then go to the beach and stay all day! pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease--" you wrangle abby into your arms, squeezing her close to your body in an attempt to quiet her.
you smooth her hair down, tucking it behind her ears as you whisper, "hey, hey, how about we go get breakfast and meet mike a little later, okay? we can go in our pjs and everything," abby's eyes light up at your plan, and she's nodding excitedly, pulling on your wrist in order to wrench you from the warm bed. "let's go now then!"
"let me brush my teeth first, sweet thing, at least."
after another generous breakfast, two cat naps, and endless searching through bags marked with the sharp zztt zztt zztt of zippers, you, mike, and abby are established in the warm sand of a southern beach; it'd been a bit of a hassle to put the umbrella up, with its complicated, ancient instructions, but your tired muscles and mind are extraordinarily grateful for the effort as you lounge in your chair, leaning your head back into a neck pillow and scanning your eyes over your science fiction read.
after a bit, you stick your bookmark into the crease of your pages and remove your sunglasses from your face so you're able to get a clearer view of abby and mike along the shoreline.
they're laughing together, running back and forth and taunting the tide as it crashes against the sand in a white foam. "you can't let the tide get you, abby! the sea monsters will take you whole!" you chuckle as mike sweeps her up in his arms, swinging her over the water as he treads deeper.
you set your book down and travel towards the tide, picking up more of their conversation over the soft wind.
"wait, what---what---oh no, the sea monsters are speaking to me. they're saying...i have to give you up." mike shakes his head in faux despair, beginning to fake cry as abby yelps in his arms. "they say they've been looking for an eleven year old girl named abby for their mission!" he continues swinging her, pretending to dunk her in some moments and keeping her away from the water in others, claiming, "no, i won't let them have you!"
you place your hands on your hips, raising your eyebrow in preparation to play along as they make their way back to land. "everything okay over here? i heard something about...'sea monsters'."
"the sea monsters have mastered mind control," abby matter-of-factly explains, wiggling from mike's grasp and curling her toes back into the wet sand during her impromptu intermission. "they specifically need an eleven year old abby, but mike is such a great brother that he wouldn't dare give me up."
"wouldn't do it for all the money in the world," mike affirms with a smile and finger wag pointed to the sky. after a moment, he winces and squeezes his eyes tightly in pain, rubbing at his temples with two fingertips. "they're still in my head though. it's taking all my willpower to fight against them."
you nod at the both of them, an oddly fascinated smile etched onto your face. "well maybe you two can take them down and make them reform. ask them why they need children for their mission in the first place."
"well they don't always, do they, abs?" abby shakes her head as mike reaches out for you, his eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "in fact...they're asking for...you now."
you widen your eyes, playing up your shock with a hand to the heart. "oh jeez. well, thank god it's an adult this time. what would the world be without abby?"
"what would the world be like without me? you ask great questions, y/n. that's why i love you."
"i love you more, abs. i'm not letting them get you either," you reply, running your hand over the crown of her damp head with an affectionate grin as you feel mike sneakily wrap his arms around your waist, pressing you into him. "mike, wh--"
"the sea monsters have spoken. they want you!" you're off your feet before you can even finish your screech, flying towards the cresting waves. one moment, mike had you in his arms, trudging into deeper surf, and the next, you're shrouded in icy ocean water, the salt stinging your eyes and coating your unexpectant tongue in a disgusting layer of minerals.
mike's laughing as he slowly makes his way to the sand, his back facing the shore while he waits for you to come to the surface. he's beside abby when you finally rise, the joy dropping from both of their demeanors when they take you in.
your staunch displeasure could be seen from football fields away and it makes abby mischievously gulp, "uh oh" as you irritably trek through the water, stopping when it reaches your mid-thigh.
you're like a goddess, appearing from the ocean in your simple black bikini, water droplets beading over the exposed parts of your smooth bronze skin, and it's all mike wants to make you feel like in order to atone for his obvious mistake. he wants to throw you into his arms and apologize profusely and plant kisses all over your body and ask you what he can do to make it right; he'll do anything if it means he won't see you with crossed arms and a deep scowl.
your attitude has mike sprinting over, almost face planting as his feet slip in the waterlogged sand. his eyes are overwhelmingly remorseful, and he begins to spew sentiment as he grabs for you.
"i'm so sorry baby, are you okay? are you hurt?" his voice cracks as he examines you thoroughly, grazing his hands over your face and body. you nearly give up your act at his attentiveness, but you maintain, rolling your eyes at him. he deflates at that, whimpering, "fuck, i'm sorry. i'm so sorry. i should've asked before i did that, i-i-i just thought since you were playing along that maybe it'd be okay...." mike's ramble trails off as he focuses on you stepping back into deeper water, and even more terrifyingly, your continued silence. "baby, hey, hey. are you okay?"
he follows you closely, and it's a foolish mistake on his own part; his consideration leaves him vulnerable, and you're able to ram your small frame into his torso, wrapping your own arms around his waist and tackling him into the chilly water. he goes down with a yell and comes up soon after with a cough and a smile, shaking the saltwater from his hair.
he wipes at his eyes as he reorients himself, rasping, "oh, i see. you were just getting back at me, being all cold and shit."
you watch him with your lips pursed amusedly, traversing around his recovering form so that you have an unobstructed escape route. "you gave me to the sea monsters, mike. i couldn't not get revenge."
"yeah, well, now this sea monster's gonna get you!" you noisily squeal as you run with high knees all the way to abby, who jumps and cheers for you back at the dry shore. "don't let them get you, y/n!"
"i won't!" you scream back, your words broken up with chuckles as you try your best to escape mike's aquatic nefariousness. you've made it out of the water, pulling abby into a wet embrace when mike clammers into the two of you, sending you all down to the lush sand.
it sticks to your skin as you belly-laugh with abby under mike's weight, feeling his heart pump through his ribs with adrenaline, and you can't help but think about how memorable this time will be for all of you.
mike and abby would be your family forever, and moments like this cemented that.
cute beach time!!! i love sweetgf and dickheadbf, they warm my heart.
faire's seedlings ✿
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