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nobodysdaydreams · 22 days ago

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In Honor of All Saints Day, Here's Some Random Assumptions About My Followers Based on Their Favorite Saints 😇

Please note this is a merely for fun and not meant to offend anyone, please be kind, thank you. Also, I obviously can't possibly include every saint here, so I'm just gonna stick to some of the ones I think are most likely to be favorites of my followers.

Saint Joan of Arc- I'll start with arguably the most popular one, or at least the one I see posted or discussed online the most. If your favorite saint is St. Joan of Arc, there's a good chance you're an atheist who doesn't vibe with saints in general, but likes her because she's a girl with a sword and that's objectively awesome. You're correct for that, and welcome to the post. Another option is that you're a girl who was labeled a "tomboy" growing up.

Saint Paul- if your favorite saint is St. Paul, you have a blog or a significant portion of your blog dedicated to one ex-villain character whose redemption arc you could rewatch on loop for hours. You also might be Protestant, and yes, this particular St. Paul is the same Paul from the Bible. Welcome to the post. ✝️

Saint Olga- if your favorite saint is St. Olga, you support women's rights, but more importantly, you forgive women's wrongs. There have been several times when you've gotten upset about people questioning the validity of a female character's redemption considering her past when they overlook and forgive way worse done by male characters. There's also a chance you might be Orthodox. Welcome to the post. ☦️

Saint Nicholas- if your favorite saint is St. Nicholas, there is a chance you followed me for TMBS content. Your favorite holiday is Christmas, and you're still hyperfixated on the same book series or television show from your childhood. You're also extremely passionate about your fandoms and can't stand it when people grossly misinterpret characters or things in canon.

Saint Benedict- if your favorite saint is St. Benedict, you also probably followed me for TMBS content. You're also a very humble and unproblematic person but the haters are bitter and always trying to bring you down (via their jealousy and also poison, but you can't be stopped).

Saint Scholastica- if your favorite saint is St. Scholastica, you also might have followed me for TMBS content because you know that she's Benedict's twin sister. You also wish that God would summon storms for you whenever you find your brother annoying.

The Virgin Mary, Mother of Jesus- if you picked the Virgin Mary, you're neurodivergent, specifically the type of neurodivergent who loved those card games where characters had different levels of power. You take a similar approach to picking your favorite saint, so why wouldn't you go straight for the one that is objectively the most powerful and the best one? It just makes to most sense to you, and the thing is, you're right. You're 100% right. Congrats!

Saint Cecilia- if your favorite saint is St. Cecilia, you're a musician and were in choir either at school or church. You also probably are/were a theater kid.

Saint Lawrence- if your favorite saint is St. Lawrence, you were definitely a theater kid and tried stand up comedy at least once. You also use jokes and humor to cope with stressful situations.

Saint Josephine Bakhita- if your favorite saint is St. Josephine, you are one of those people who somehow remains positive and sees the sliver lining in literally any circumstance. Don't get me wrong, I love that for you, but please take care of yourself. 🫂❤️‍🩹

Saint Dymphna- if your favorite saint is St. Dymphna, you are neurodivergent, have struggled with mental illness, work in psychiatric or medical care, or you’ve dealt with a lot in your life, and I hope you heal. 🫂❤️‍🩹

Saint Kateri Tekakwitha- if your favorite saint is Saint Kateri, you're sick of your relatives pressuring you to date someone, and you're extremely worried about climate change (girl, me too).

Saint Anthony- if your favorite saint is St. Anthony, you have ADHD and lose things multiple times a week. On the off chance you followed me for Wolf359 content, you identified way too strongly with Doug Eiffel.

Saint Peter- if your favorite saint is saint Peter, you either watch "The Chosen" or you have ADHD and felt seen when you read about him in the Bible. That man boldly declared he would never deny Jesus and when told he would do it before a rooster crowed three times, to which he confidently replied "nah" and then immediately got distracted and preoccupied with cutting some guy's ear off and forgot all about the oddly specific terrible thing he was prophesied to do just a few hours earlier by a man he believed to be God incarnate. As someone who also breaks down in tears when I suddenly remember the important things I forget to keep track of, I sympathize with his story. Saint Dymphna is patroness of most mental illness and ADHD is technically covered by her, but if we ever get an ADHD specific saint, I know it has to be either be Peter or Anthony, and if it were entirely up to me, I'd give it to Peter. Don't get me wrong, Saint Anthony is there for us, but Saint Peter is one of us, you know what I mean? Though I feel like due to the problematic nature of diagnosing the deceased (no matter how evident symptoms might be) it would end up going to Anthony, since we do call on him often, and I think Peter would be fine with that.

Saint Mark Ji Tianxiang- if your favorite saint is St. Mark Ji Tianxiang, you or someone you know is probably in recovery from addiction, and I wish you well on your journey. You also empathize way too much with any character who suffers from addiction and if you followed me for Wolf359, that was the aspect of Doug Eiffel's character that stood out to you the most. 🫂❤️‍🩹

Saint Catherine of Siena- if your favorite saint is Saint Catherine of Siena, you've probably written a book or fanfic well over 100k words. (Yes, I know, you don't have to say it).

Saint Francis of Assisi- if your favorite saint is Saint Francis of Assisi, you either have pets or want them, and if you do have them, you've taken them or begged your parents to let you take them to a St. Francis feast day pet blessing. If you followed me for TMBS, SQ is probably your favorite character, and if you followed me for Wolf359 content, you were inconsolable when Blessie died. You're also probably the kind of neurodivergent who takes things like "if you want to follow God, sell all you have and give it to the poor" literally and as a result, this has caused conflict with your family (specifically on account of you giving all the money made from your family business to the poor).

Saint Joseph- I doubt I have a lot of followers who are parents because of how tumblr demographics skew, but if your favorite saint is Saint Joseph, you just became a dad or really want to become one someday.

Saint Monica- again, I doubt this is the case because of the age of tumblr demographics, but if your favorite saint is Saint Monica, you're a mom who really needs a break, and I hope your husband and sons get it together soon. 🫂❤️‍🩹

Saint Augustine- if your favorite saint is St. Augustine, you also like redemption arcs and likely went through a "party phase" at some point in your life that you regret and identify a bit too strongly with the younger brother in the prodigal son parable. However, in this case, you likely also love St. Monica and if you followed me for Star Wars content, you are particularly upset that we didn't get to see more interactions between Leia Organa and her son Benny Solo especially considering they led a whole war against each other the year between TLJ and TROS (dead horse, I know).

Saint Juan Diego Cuauhtlatoatzin- if your favorite saint is St. Juan Diego, you have or grew up with a picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe somewhere in your house. You've also been in the incredibly specific situation of seeing or doing something super cool, but not having anyone believe you (but the satisfying payoff when they find out you were right).

Saint Mary Magdalene- if your favorite saint is St. Mary Magdalene, you either watch "The Chosen" or you're a woman who's faith pulled her out of a very difficult time in her life, and like St. Juan Diego, you also know what it's like to be proven right after a group of men call you a liar.

Saints Louis Martin and Marie-Azélie Guérin (Zélie)- if these are your favorite saints, you understand why you can't just pick one. This power couple comes in a set. If you picked these two, you heard about them because your favorite saint might actually be or have been their very famous daughter St. Thérèse of Lisieux. And if you're a guy and you picked these two, you're also a proud girl dad and can't stop bragging to everyone you meet about how successful your wife's business is (especially because she's so humble about it). Green flags all around.

Saint Maximilian Kolbe- if St. Maximilian is your favorite saint, you're a history guy or gal who is obsessed with world war two, but in a good way. In the "this was very not cool. Let's never forget so we never do this again" way. You also love stories of heroic sacrifice and aspire to always do the right thing even when it’s not socially popular or doesn’t benefit you.

(Soon to be canonized) Saint Carlo Acutis- You're a millennial or gen z who loves researching and talking about modern saints. You aspire to be like them and have a list of ones you want canonized (mine are Servant of God Dorothy Day and Archbishop Joseph Francis Rummel. They lived in the 20th Century and when you're dealing with 2,000 years of history, that's pretty modern).

I'm sure I'll think of more to add after I post this, but I'll leave it here for now. I hope y'all enjoy this!

#Happy All Saints Day!#Catholic #Catholicism #Catholic saints #roman catholic #saints #christianity #all saints #all saints day

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rebeccalouisaferguson · 7 months ago

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Please note: There are major spoilers for both “Silo” and the “Dune” series in this interview.

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The Playlist: Congratulations on all the great projects released over the past year. After working on “Mission: Impossible” movies and “Dune” movies, is it hard to show up and have a production set actually impress you?

Rebecca Ferguson: [Laughs.] Yeah.

Did “Silo” impress you?

Yes, but there are two different things. There’s a scale of a set. When you’re, for example, with “Mission,” there’s nothing impressive over the sets because the sets are nature. So, it’s more the fact that you get to act in the environment and Tom’s doing a helicopter stunt. Like, the action is impressive. It’s not the sets and it’s not the environment in that sense because it’s natural, right? It’s beautiful. With “Silo,” the scope and scale of the sets, they’re so huge. And the fact that we actually have the staircase, then you can run maybe two, or three floors. And the visual effects guys, Paul Bongiovanni and Daniel Rauchwerger, and the team, knowing what they create, the collaboration with the set design and the visual effects is phenomenal. It’s absolutely phenomenal. I might have stolen a couple of props from the set, but I also steal by saying, “By the way, I’ve put a couple of props in my bag. You have one minute to take them back.” And if not, they are mine. Because they’re so beautiful. I have so many pictures of things on set. I just walk around.

I love how you give them one minute because that’s not enough time to really think about it.

One minute, that’s all they get.

When the project came to you, had you heard about the book? What was your reaction to it?

Nope. So when “Silo” came, I was given the first six episodes, and I read them, and I really liked it, but there was a little thing I [needed] changed. I got stuck in something. So I was like, “No, this is not the project for me.” So, I’m only telling this story [because] I’ve heard Graham Yost tell it. I would never have told a story that I’ve turned something down that I’m doing. But there was something that I didn’t really grasp in one of the episodes, and it was too big. It was a bit of an issue. And then they came back, and they were like, “Well, what is this issue?”And I was like, “Well, this is the issue.”And they were like, “O.K.” And then they came back, and they had addressed the issue, and I was like, “Oh, huh, interesting.” And then, when they did that, I thought, “Oh, I’m more interested in this.” And then I started the books, and then I was like, “Oh, I’m actually really into this world, but what else?” And then Graham was like, “What if you can become an [Executive Producer] and learn the process of making it and actually have insight into making a TV show?” And I was like, “Next to you, the best producer showrunner, “I mean, and that’s kind of how it came to life. And then I read all of the books and I was deep in it.

But when they sent you the first six episodes, had they told you what the ending of the first season was? I mean, because it’s seemingly very faithful to the book.

No, I think, and I might be lying, but I’m going to go with it. I read the first six episodes and I was caught on the journey up until the moment when I was like, “This isn’t great. This isn’t very good.” And then kind the other episode had to kind of correct itself and it was just a bit of distraction. So. I wasn’t that intrigued when that happened. But then, the second time, it really opened up my interest, and that’s why I was like, “What happens?” I mean, when you start going, “What happens after six? Do you have seven? Do you have eight? What’s going on here?” That’s a good sign.

I have a lot of questions about Juliette, especially the final episode. There’s a great scene where she is shown the video before George’s death. And he sort of sends her a message by looking at the video camera. He knows where the video camera is, and Juliette has a very emotional moment in that scene. Did you get to see the actual footage of him for that, or were you just looking at a green screen and imagining?

I asked for that to play, so I wanted to act against Ferdinand Kingsley‘s scene. So no, no, that was me in the room, and on all of these displays, they put it up. So, I actually saw what I would’ve been looking at.

For many people in Juliette’s situation, that moment might have crushed them, made them not want to keep fighting, and made them want to maybe just sort of accept their fate. But when she gets sentenced to go clean, she seems so confident. She seems so reassured. Which by the way, even if the world out there was all green, it’s still hard, who knows how you’re going to survive? Why do you think she still has that confidence?

I don’t. That is not how I saw it. For me, there’s a moment I think, in people’s lives where enough is enough and there’s a moment where there’s a form of surrender. And when she says, “I’m not afraid,” I think she has never been more afraid. I think that’s how I felt it. I felt “I am afraid. I’m so terrified. But it’s a broken system that I can’t solve here, and this is the next step for me. I agree this is what’s going to happen. I can’t fight this.” So, it’s like nearly a person who’s going to have given up, but you never give up. There’s a little tiny bit of hope, there might be a possibility of surviving. There’s so much in it. It’s not just, “I’m ready, bring it.” She’s petrified.

Do you also feel she’s petrified when she sees what the world actually looks like?

I think at that moment, it’s what everyone feels their own intuitive emotion towards it. But I think for me, in life, we’re telling a story. So we want to tell the grandiosity of what she sees and the impact. Well, when walking over taking those extra steps. But to be honest, I think for her, the fact that she’s taking one step after the other is an achievement and a realization, and it’s a gradual incline of safety. And then boom, there’s new information. That’s the whole journey with Juliette. It’s like a problem-solving, problem-solving, problem. That’s the entire world of “Silo” and the change of character throughout. She starts off as quite selfish. She wants to solve some issues around her own feelings, but that opens up a bigger can of worms. “Oh, there are bigger lies. There are bigger things. Wait, what is the truth? Oh, this is not just about me. I want to give up.” Walker says, “It’s not just about giving up.” “Oh s**t, yeah, this is bigger. Maybe I need to care. Maybe it’s not just about fixing machinery because machinery needs to work, but it needs to actually give life to people. Oh, there’s a symbiosis going on here.” All of this is a gradual incline for Juliette’s character to where we end and where we get to in season two.

At that moment though, at the end, she’s up on the edge of the hill, and she turns around. She’s already discovered that it really is a wasteland out there. She doesn’t jump up and down. She doesn’t do a death sign. She doesn’t do anything to communicate back to the people still in the silo. Did you ask Graham? Did you ask the directors why they didn’t want that? Why do you think she doesn’t try to communicate something to them?

I think she doesn’t because she’s in a new space. I think when you are still absolutely petrified, there is no jumping up and my suit can fucking shred. This is all I have. You are still careful. You are observing. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I mean, what are they going to do? I’m going to jump up and down and they’re going to go, “Oh, come on back in.”? It’s clearly not a system that wants her inside, not to give away too much. So what is she going to do? Save herself by going, “It’s all good.” [Laughs.] Maybe. Look, I’ve walked this far. It’s kind of, there’s not much more to do. It’s more the connection of, “O.K., there you are. I don’t know what I’m looking at, but I’m going to focus. What the f**k is this? Oh, this is out of mind. What the f**k is happening in front of me?”

I don’t know how much you’re on social media in terms of seeing how people react to projects you are a part of, but there is a super passionate fan base for this show, and we were super excited about it. Have you gotten any feedback about that?

I know that a lot of people like it because I know that people are watching it. So, I get digits and numbers, not too much because digits and numbers are important to keep secret, but I know that people love it. And I do see pictures of people from Comic Cons dressed up as Juliette, and I love all of that. But no, I’m terrified of going out on those things because I’m scared I have failed something. Or they’ll ask questions that I’m not intelligent enough to answer.

I don’t want you to give any spoilers, but you had just mentioned when you initially got the scripts for season one you thought changes were needed. Were you pleasantly surprised when the season two scripts arrived?

Yeah. I was like, “I what? And this happens. How are we going to shoot this? Oh my God, does Apple know how much this is going to cost them?” [Laughs.]

One last thing about season two. I know you shot before the strike happened and then you had to go back and finish up afterward, right? Was that a tough transition?

To be honest, it’s like when COVID happened, people were like, “Was it hard for you?” And I think, “No, no, it’s hard for people who actually died and people who had people [who died].” For me, we had to stop because the cause was for a reason. It was for writers, and it was for actors, and things needed to be solved. The fact is, I’m one of the luckiest fortunate ones who can still live during a strike and also take care of the people around me who need help. There was no complaining. I mean, emotionally, did I have to pause a little bit? I mean, yeah, so what, do you know what I mean? We run with it and are grateful for it. But I think what was tricky was…hmmm…so, season two, season two might be filmed in two different locations. We might, right? I’m not going to go into it because I wouldn’t, which means that we could shoot a lot of people out who were in one location. So, the only things left to shoot were me and whatever my world entailed, which meant I was in every scene for the next three months with no break and no one having a scene in between. And I’ve never done that. So, that was tricky. I was from morning to evening, every scene. Every day.

Exhausting.

It was challenging but also fun because you were really in it.

Before I let you go, your “Dune” director, Mr. Villeneuve, after doing so many interviews, said, “I don’t know if I’ll do a third movie. Maybe I’ll do a third movie,” well, now, it’s sort of been revealed he’s writing the third movie, and it will clearly happen. When you were on set, were there any hints there about a third chapter? Did you guys conjecture anything about what the third movie might entail?

I just manipulate. I manipulate I just, whenever I can. Y’know those Coca-Cola commercials, back in the day when they just went Coca-Cola, big pictures, and “Fight Club”? That’s me with Denis. I just whispered little weird things in his ears that I wanted to do. He was like, “Oh, stop it.” Oh, to be honest, it’s completely out of my hands. He has clearly made a spectacular world…

Absolutely, 100%.

And it is banking and people are loving it, and it has the most phenomenal cast in it. Of course, there would be a third one, but it’s a lot of pressure on Denis. It’s a lot of pressure to continue. And when do you make the creative decision? Do you go when it is at the best, or do you make one that could fail and not be as good? It’s a really tricky conversation. It depends on the script; it depends on the money. It depends on all of the actors that have not got a deal for the third film. That’s a lot going on there. So there’s a lot to take into consideration before just writing a third script, you know?

Well, I do think people are excited about it because that third novel is so different, and he’ll have to go in some interesting directions to tie it into maybe the other two.

I mean, I haven’t read it, so I literally dunno. So what happens? Go on.

Oh, I don’t know if we have time to go into all the details. [Laughs.] But, it has been hinted that your character’s son may not be the Messiah that they think he is.

Oh, yeah. I know.

You know that part.

I mean, come on. Clearly, we’re not going to be that close to the book. That’s ridiculous. Although I would love to see Timothee turn into a worm. As long as my character doesn’t go and sit [somewhere] hot and covered in fabrics, I’m happy.

Oh, was it super hot shooting the second film?

No, no, no. But I think in the book she goes away and disappears for a bit and sits. Y’know, she’s Reverend Mothering underneath all of it. [Laughs.]

I can’t imagine she isn’t around more than that. Something tells me that the themes of the first two movies suggest to me at least that she’d be part of it.

I hope so; I mean, I’ll be a teapot.

#interview #rebecca ferguson #silo interview #dune interview #juliette nichols #lady jessica #dune #dune messiah

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lovingthereign25 · 2 years ago

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Reconciliation 🖤

Part 1

Arriving at the Alamodome I was nervous which was unusual, I was never nervous coming to a WWE event. Maybe it was the fact that I haven't been to one in over 8 months or maybe it was the fact that I was a surprise entrant in the women's rumble . Either way my nerves were getting to me . I sat in the locker room next to Lana who is one of my very best friends and some of the other girls that I've missed so much being away.

"How's it feel to be back?" Liv asked

"Different….good different. I smile

" I noticed you dropped the Anoa'i in your name, when did that happen?" Nia asked, referring to my marriage. "

A few months ago when they asked to be a surprise entrant" I say

After a while when it's only Lana, Becky , Liv and I, Lana asked the question the others wanted to

" Is it weird being here with Joe?" She asked

"Yes and no, I mean No in the sense that we've obviously see and speak to each other because we have children together so we are civil and communicate for them. Yes in the sense that it's weird not coming out with him and here his last name after mine." I say honestly.

After the women's rumble I sat in the back with everyone watching the rest of the show….the last match Joe's or as he is known in WWE Roman Reigns.

I sat with Lana until two of my favorite people in the business came in.

"Ayyy, there she is Miss "surprise entrant ", Miss " I can't tell family I'm coming back " Jimmy jokes pulling me into a hug.

" Key word …. Surprise" I smirk after hugging Jey .

"It's good to see you back at it, and you still got it" Jey says

"I NEVER lost it" i sass back

"You seen Big Uce yet?" Jimmy asked

" No, but I was just about to watch his match with KO, wanna join?" I ask

" Sure" they both shrug

Watching Joe entrance I couldn't help but think about how good he looked, yea I've seen him since we've broken up but seeing him shirtless, hair down, being his cocky Tribal chief character was still kind of sexy to me. The match started off slow then of course like always built up with Joe taking a few good bumps, one hit in particular Joe was going in for a spear when Kevin moved shoving Joe right into the turnbuckle.

"Shit, he hit his shoulder hard" I say without thinking

" Still in wifey mode?" Jimmy asking smiling

"No, I just don't want him hurt he is the father of my children ' I lie

" Yeah…we'll go with that" he rolled his eyes

A bit later into the match Nia comes in and tells the twins Solo was looking for them, without a word they were gone.

Moments later Joe gets the win and is joined in the ring along with The Usos , Solo and Sami . They attacked Kevin, handcuffing him and giving him as they would call it a "Bloodline bet down" .

Next thing I know Sami is hitting Joe across the back with a chair, unlocking a sore memory of when a similar situation happened with The Shield.

I couldn't even tell you what happened next all I could pay attention to was the welt that now formed on Joe's back.

Joe, Jimmy ,Solo and Paul made their way to the back heading to their locker room , I made my way there also. Jimmy and Solo parting going their own way I enter Joe's locker room.

Joe spots me in the doorway before I can even knock.

"Paul, can you excuse us for a minute" Joe says

Paul nods, giving me a hug before exiting.

"Y/n, I'm not in the mood to fight or argue if that's why you're here " he says sitting down with his back to me the welt had gotten bigger

"I'm not here to fight , I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you took some good hits out there" I say

" All part of the job," he says, rubbing his shoulder.

" Let me" I say walking over, placing my hands on his shoulders, massaging them .

"This welt is pretty nasty" I say slowly, running my fingers over it .

"Is it?" He asks

"Kinda like the one Colby gave you a few years back? " I say

" You never did forgive him for that, did you?" He laughs

" Nope, he knew how much I love your back" I laugh

" Love?" He asked

" Loved" I correct running my fingers over the welt once more .

Joe grabs my hand and brings me around the couch where he sat. Standing in front of Joe trying my best not to make eye contact I feel his eyes roam my body.

" I like the new gear" he said, playing with the zipper on my ring attire.

"Thanks, someone once told me red was a good color on me" I say

Without warning Joe pulled me into his lap attaching his lips to mine. The kiss was hot, lustful and aggressive. One of Joe's hands was on my face, the other gripping my ass. I moaned his name wanting more and more of him .

"Joe" I say pulling away placing my hands on his chest " we should stop"

"Y/n, I need you" he whispers, stroking my face pulling me back in for another kiss.

This man had such an effect on me. Joe laid me on the couch hovering over me, placing soft kisses to my face down to my neck.

"God, you look so damn good in this gear" he says

"Shut up " I laugh trying to cover myself

"I'm serious, your body is perfect, it carried our babies" he says, removing my hands.

Joe slowly unzips the bottoms of my gear just enough for him to slide his hand in. Running his fingers down my core causing me to throw my head back in pleasure.

" So wet Y/n , you still want me don't you baby" he smirks, pumping two fingers inside of me.

I bit my lip trying my hardest not to moan, I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I did indeed still want him. I wanted him in every way possible but also because we were still in an arena full of our coworkers.

"Say it Y/n , tell me you still want me ?" He demands pumping faster than he was a minute ago.

"Shit….I want you" I nearly screamed.

Joe smirks, getting what he wanted from me, he undid his pants reaching in freeing his already hard length.

Just as Joe was about to slip himself inside of me there's a knock on the door

" Who is it?" He asks annoyed

"It's Jimmy uce" we hear from the other side of the door

Quickly I zip my bottoms trying to fix myself as Joe does the same .

" Come in man " Joe says

"Yo Uce Solo is going crazy looking for Jey……he starts stopping mid sentence noticing Joe isn't alone

"Oh my bad I didn't mean to interrupt…." He smirks winking at me

"You're not interrupting anything I was just checking on Joe after the match" I say

"You said something about Solo?" Joe says

"Yea he's out for Jey, saying he went off script " Jimmy explains

"Alright I'll fix it, I call Solo now " Joe reassures

Jimmy leaves Joe and I alone again.

Joe calls Solos calming him down from finding Jey. He hangs up sitting back sighing.

"I'm gonna head out" I say lightly tapping his knee

"Like hell you are" he says grabbing my hand and placing it on his rock hard member in his pants " we're finishing what we started, you're coming home with me"

"Joe,I don't think.." I start but he kisses me again

"Tonight I NEED my wife, so don't think just go grab your stuff and meet me at the hotel…Please " he says stroking my face.

"Okay" I whisper.

*An hour later*

Was I really meeting my soon to be ex-husband for a late night booty call. I thought to myself as I knocked on the door to Joe's room.

Before I reconsider it he opened the door in a damn Towel ….. seriously?

"Finally." He says pulling into me kissing me.

"I need to use your bathroom first champ" I say pulling away

"Ugh Y/n I've waited long enough" he whines

"Always so whiny" I tease before shutting the door behind me

After a few minutes and a glance in the mirror to make sure I looked ok..I head out of the bathroom Joe now sitting on the edge of the bed impatiently waiting

"Now I'm ready" I say standing in the doorway wearing his "Tribal Chief is my Daddy" shirt with black knee highs and heels .

"Fuck baby" he says biting his lip

"Do you like it?" I ask as if I didn't already know

"Come here now…let your Tribal Daddy show you just how much I like it " he says, grabbing my waist pulling me into his arms and flipping me onto the bed so he was on top.

"Where should I start with you huh?.... Should I dip my fingers inside play with you a little while before I fuck you, or should I eat you out make you beg me to cum?" He asks

God I loved this side of Joe. I always have we had the most incredible sex life.

"Please just do something" I beg

"Look at you begging for Daddy to touch you" he taunts

"Joe…shut up and fuck me" I growl

Joe removes my panties, flinging them behind him somewhere,looking up from between my legs, he smiles just before his tongue pushes past his lips and licks once across my center, as slowly and torturously as possible.

"Joe" I whine desperate for more.

He then begins his assault. He was playing with you, tasting your pussy slowly at first, but later even slipped with his tongue inside of me and twisted his tongue around a bit, causing me to moan like crazy until my orgasm hit. Wasting no time Joe flipped me onto my stomach and pushed my ass to him. He gave my cheek a squeeze and a light spank that made me jolt. Sliding his hand along my spine down to my neck, he pressed me into the mattress and eased his cock into me. I couldn't help but let out a loud moan, my mouth hanging open as my core enveloped him.

“Fuck! How are you still so tight? Squeezing me like that…” he hissed.

Joe then once again switches our position.

Joe pinning my arms behind my head with one of his own while the hand grips one of my hips tightly, guiding them against his, as he gives hard, penetrating thrusts.

"God…Joe" I nearly scream

" You like that baby…when I go nice and deep" he grunts

Joe picks his pace up, He hooks his arms under my legs, lifting them up higher so he can reach a different angle and that’s what pushes me over the edge.

"Oh God…" I moan.

I come hard, clenching around his cock as he fucks me so well, reaching his own high just moments later. His hips fall out of rhythm and he changes his fast thrusts to slow but rough pushes as he spills into me. We're both gasping for air, his forehead falls against mine as I hold onto his broad shoulders. He brushes his lips against mine, softly kissing them before he lets my legs down, his cock slipping out of me leaving me with an empty feeling.

" That was incredible" I pant

" You're welcome" he smirks

I playfully hit his chest. Before rolling under the covers.

"Actually staying after sex….. shocker" he laughs

" Come cuddle with me before I change my mind" I roll my eyes.

#roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #reconciliation

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yssjj · 1 year ago

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american psycho: he's just like me fr

In No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai, there’s a passage where the main character, Yozo, who is ostensibly Dazai (it is a semi-autobiographical book), struggles to figure out exactly what the hell his Sister wants from him in a fairly obvious situation:

“One autumn evening as I was lying in bed reading a book, the older of my cousins–I always called her Sister–suddenly darted into my room quick as a bird, and collapsed over my bed. She whispered through her tears, “Yozo, you’ll help me, I know. I know you will. Let’s run away from this terrible house together. Oh, help me, please.” She continued in this hysterical vein for a while only to burst into tears again. This was not the first time that a woman had put on such a scene before me, and Sister’s excessively emotional words did not surprise me much. I felt instead a certain boredom at their banality and emptiness. I slipped out of bed, went to my desk and picked up a persimmon. I peeled it and offered my Sister a section. She ate it, still sobbing, and said, “Have you any interesting books? Lend me something.” I chose Soseki’s I am a Cat from my bookshelf and handed it to her. “Thanks for the persimmon,” Sister said as she left the room, an embarrassed smile on her face…”

At this moment, Dazai/Yozo provides an accidentally hilarious moment through his lack of empathy. Even though Yozo faces similar despair, he is unable to connect sadness to the sadness of others. After several trials of this sort of situation where a girl comes to him crying for support (which despite his wishes is a recurring theme in his life), he has figured out a simple, effective solution—distract them with sweets, books, anything at hand, even a suicide pact.

Of course, this isn’t the correct “answer” to these situations. He could have just… talked to her! But this is impossible for Yozo because claims to be completely disconnected from her. And he’s too terrified to try to reach out. He imagines that all other people have a monster behind their mask, ready to attack him at will.

The entire book is like this, a person who doesn’t know how to interact with other people because he is actually terrified of everyone around him, which is all rooted in his feeling of spiritual isolation. The title is a direct statement of the narrator’s feeling towards the world around him—as someone who is just faking being human, what point did he have in existing when he has to live in fear of everyone around him, who is ostensibly better at this being “human” thing than him?

American Psycho was this to me, an attempt by another alien (Patrick Bateman) to decipher exactly what the hell is happening in 80’s yuppie corporate NYC. Or as he aptly puts it:

EVELYN Well, you hate that job anyway. Why don't you just quit? You don't have to work. BATEMAN Because I...want...to...fit...in. I think he wants to fit in!

Patrick Bateman has decided, unlike Yozo, that he will fit in. He—at least, consciously—believes that he is stronger than everyone around him. Christian Bale does an awesome job monologuing with the emphasis on monotone, dry, and powerful from his ability to seemingly separate himself from the riff-raff around him. This might be why a lot of men (from what I have heard, no citation given in this article) take from this movie that this is the way of a “sigma” male, one who is different from the rest of the pack.

(This is where I would submit my sigma male test score but I couldn’t find the screenshot.)

fear and anxiety

Because of all the (wrong) takes on American Psycho being anti-feminist because of its violence against women, or the idolization of Patrick Bateman because he can cull his competition, you would think Patrick is good at killing people. This is not true in the movie. Patrick Bateman is actually very, very bad at killing people. When he kills Paul Allen, he becomes a total wreck, running through his apartment to come up with some sort of alibi, slamming open closets and desperately packing together a cute little travel set. Not that I would know how to commit a murder, but you would think for someone who considers himself to be in control Patrick would have a better idea on how to proceed with this kind of thing. His answers to Detective Donald Kimball’s questions range from guilty to insane. When Detective Kimball asks him if he knew Paul Allen was missing, Patrick jumps to asking him if the “homicide squad” is deployed on the case.

He even panics out of a murder when Luis Carruthers hits on him because it’s so unexpected, ending with Patrick desperately looking for any reason to just leave (“I’ve gotta… I’ve gotta… return some videotapes.”—as a bonus, he uses this SEVERAL times in the movie to leave uncomfortable situations). He then washes his gloved hands in the bathroom in an attempt to try to return to a “normal” interaction. It’s not pride and power pushing him forward. It’s anxiety!

Like Yozo, Patrick is also afraid. When he lies to Jean that he got a reservation for two at Dorsia (his trigger word apparently), he decides that the only course of action is to kill Jean before they make it to the restaurant. To directly discuss the traditional idea of toxic masculinity (as referenced by the men who want to be Patrick), theory would say that Patrick kills to gain power over women or to flex his masculinity. But his pride isn’t on the line when he tells Jean that he got a reservation to Dorsia. And he’s not trying to be powerful and masculine when he decides that killing Jean is the only solution. His decision is a panicked answer to stay disconnected from Jean at any cost.

Just as Yozo accepts a suicide pact from a woman because he doesn’t know how else to comfort her while avoiding connection to her, Patrick decides with how smoothly he handled Paul Owen’s murder that staging another murder is a get-out-of-jail-free card from the impending doom of having to admit that he actually can’t get a reservation for Dorsia.

And his Dorsia fear manifests in reality as a personal hell when the maître d’ hysterically laughs at him, screeching, when he first calls for a reservation that night at 8:30 for a date with Courtney. The second time he calls he gets a normal response, with the maître d’ telling him that the restaurant is completely booked for the night. But Patrick’s fear response is already baked in from the first interaction he created with his own anxiety.

societal normalcy and self-acceptance

There’s something deeply relatable to the need to try to figure out what is “normal.” Especially, the further you might naturally be from “societal normal,” the harder it is to try to figure out how to get there. At this point, the proverb “be true to yourself” might seem to come into play. But our urge to be normal is because we want to connect to others. We want to not be alone, even if that’s at the cost of suppressing our true selves.

Patrick manages to fit in at the boy’s club at work by performing all of the gestures of the others, at lunch, at Christmas parties. But his true self is completely isolated from his coworkers. He’s someone who is unrecognized as his own person to the point that people mistake his identity for others in the group. His fiance knows nothing about him and doesn’t care to, even when Patrick is trying to tell her that he has homicidal urges. The only reason she’s even getting married to him is because they have the same friends and breaking up “wouldn’t work.” Even Carruthers only hits on him because of the clothing he wears.

But even when you fit in, you want people to understand you. So Patrick tries to connect with people over and over again. But when he does try, it’s unreciprocated. The only time he can talk about his interest in pop music is with prostitutes he hires for sex—almost as if the sex is just an excuse (which might be why his violence is also focused on them). His jokes constantly fall flat with his peers. His joke about Ed Gein sticking women’s heads on sticks could be inappropriate (and is given the rest of the context of Patrick’s personality), but it’s a very vulnerable moment for Patrick. He is purposefully revealing part of who he is and receives worse than a bad reaction—no reaction. When your friends rebuke you, it’s a decision to reach out and connect out of care. No reaction is the choice to pull away.

And when he finally does meet someone who is genuinely interested in him as who he is and is willing to reach out to him, he is unable to complete the connection. Jean is the only woman in the movie who isn’t willing to mask to just “fit in.” When Patrick takes her out and talks to her in his condo, we can immediately get a sense of who she is because she’s telling the truth. But Patrick takes this vulnerability and tries to push it away from him—thus the attempt to kill her with a nail gun—and fails as his own vulnerability (he’s cheating on his fiancee) is revealed via inopportune phone call (from said fiancee).

Silence. Jean is obviously embarrassed and upset. JEAN Was that...Evelyn? Silence. JEAN Are you still seeing her? Silence. JEAN I'm sorry, I have no right to ask that. Silence. JEAN Do you want me to go? A long pause. BATEMAN Yes. I don’t think I can...control myself. JEAN I know I should go. I know I have a tendency to get involved with unavailable men, and...I mean, do you want me to go? Another long pause. BATEMAN If you stay, I think something bad will happen. I think I might hurt you. (Almost hopefully) You don't want to get hurt, do you? JEAN No. No, I guess not. I don't want to get bruised. You're right, I should go.

And at the end of the movie, Jean is the only one who is able to find Patrick’s “true nature” because she is worried about him after he calls her. Patrick doesn’t reveal who he is to her. She’s the one who searches his desk and finds the drawings he has made of his compulsions, of his real or imagined crimes against humanity.

violence

After violence, Patrick responds with desperation and panic. We even see this in Paul Allen’s murder, the one murder Patrick seemed to really enjoy, where Patrick scrambles to come up with something so that he avoids getting caught. Patrick claims to have killed Christie only because “she almost got away.” In the final chase scene, the consequences come for him at an amazing tempo; police cars surround him after the sound of the first shot dissipates into the air, he escapes but is surrounded again and forced into a shoot-off, then is chased down by helicopters.

But that’s ridiculous—it’s totally fantastical. Because these scenes are in Patrick’s view of reality, it suggests that he wants to get caught. Patrick wants to be held accountable because it’s the only way he could imagine others understanding the immense amount of pain he’s in.

Part of our connection to people who really like us for who we are is that they can help us understand when we feel off. We want our pain to be vindicated as something that’s not okay. In times of desperation, we want to be able to reach out to others and hear sympathy, or reassurance that we are right to feel that something is wrong and that we should go get it checked out.

Patrick describes his need to hurt other people as a consequence of being in pain in the first place at the end of the movie. It’s a call for help for someone to notice and get him arrested so he can get fixed. But Patrick is completely alienated. Beyond Jean, nobody else cares about him to bother being concerned. When he tells a woman that he’s into “murders and executions,” she mishears it as “mergers and acquisitions” due to the level of attention she’s giving that conversation. When he leaves a long, rambling confession of all of his murders to his lawyer, his lawyer first mistakes him for someone else, and then laughs it off as a silly joke. Even as Patrick tries to double down and tell him that he was telling the truth, his lawyer takes the reality of the situation (that Patrick is at least delusional, since Paul Allen is alive and kicking) and decides to tell Patrick off for taking the joke “too far.”

In Patrick’s last monologue after his conversation with his lawyer, he “surpasses” having anything in common with the least sympathizable people.

BATEMAN (V.O.) There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it, I have now surpassed... INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - DAY Jean is alone in Bateman's office, looking through his diary. We see the pages that she is looking at. They are filled with doodles of mutilated women and their names...Jean looks lost and frightened, and begins to cry. BATEMAN (V.O.) My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. I fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no escape. INT. HARRY'S BAR - EARLY EVENING As the film ends the camera moves CLOSE on Bateman. He is leaning back in his leather armchair, drinking a double Scotch, his eyes blank. BATEMAN (V.O.) But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis. I gain no deeper knowledge about myself, no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. There has been no reason for me to tell you any of this. This confession has meant nothing...

He knows that losing his connection with even the most insane people will mean his internal pain will find no catharsis. Nobody can reach him and soothe his pain. So he inflicts his pain on others, even though it doesn’t help his pain, because it’s better than not doing anything. All he has left are the drawings that Jean has discovered, his last call for help.

Pain will always exist. But connection makes us understand that our pain is human, even our pain seems to come out of us in terrifying ways. In this way, Mary Harron has created a feminist movie by simply letting guys have emotions. The consequence of allowing men to have feelings is that they want to find other people who truly understand them. Patrick and his coworkers simply “fit in” but they don’t belong to each other, to anything at all beyond a sheer facade, a mask that can be put on and peeled off at the end of each day.

Then maybe we can rework toxic masculinity from being a way to have power in social situations to wanting to just “fit in” as a way to get some sort of connection to others, even if the people you hang out with don’t really understand you. But the consequence of this is that these shallow connections don’t fulfill us, and when we undergo pain, it becomes easier to take it out on these people that you don’t even like anyway, or people who aren’t even in your ingroup. When men see Patrick Bateman as a sigma male, is it that they see someone in control? Or is it that they see someone who shows a way to cope with the pain they feel, even if the method is violent and doesn’t even work, but at least it seems cathartic on the movie screen?

#american psycho #movie review #no longer human

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maya-matlin · 1 year ago

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You know I'm in awe of your analysis and insight into OTH characters! If you ever want to, I'd love to hear how you feel Julian and Lucas are both similar and different. I have a friend who claims Brooke definitely has a 'type' since Julian and Lucas are both more introverted and cerebral, but it's hard for me to either agree or disagree since Julian's personality seems to change every season (maybe even every few episodes?!) so I'd love to get your take!

You are way, way too nice to me. But this is really sweet 💙

Um.. I think I see what you mean. There's early Julian, there's late season 6/season 7 Julian, and then there's the Julian of the final two seasons. Whereas Lucas has more of a consistent, albeit frustrating, arc, Julian simply changed personalities based on the whims of the writers and possibly whatever suited Austin Nichols' talents. I guess Lucas and Julian are mostly similar in that they make art and really want it to have an effect on people. Both men are romantics, but I don't think Julian needs romance the way Lucas does. He ultimately wants/wanted a family and to get married, but he was fine waiting for the timing to be just right and for the perfect woman to come into his life. On the other hand, Lucas tried to force it, wanting to settle down so badly that he repeatedly proposed even though the timing was all wrong. Lucas's bride didn't necessarily have to be the one. She just needed to say "yes". Both Lucas and Julian have complicated relationships with their parents. But in my opinion, Julian's dynamic with Paul and Sylvia is much closer to Nathan's with Dan and Deb (hard to please dad & alcoholic mom) than Lucas's. Both Lucas and Julian seemed to be considered nerds prior to their "glow ups" (Lucas joining the Ravens, Julian becoming an adult and entering the entertainment industry). They both find it easy to be just friends with girls. However, Lucas is much more of a guys' guy, having a whole friend group of men compared to Julian really struggling to bond with Nathan and Clay. Like pretty much every OTH character, Lucas and Julian are protective and defensive over their loved ones, having zero problem directly confronting the person hurting them. Lucas resorts to violence much more often than Julian, though. He's far more impulsive. It helps that, again, we only knew Julian as an adult whereas we saw Lucas the teenager for four seasons. Not that growing up meant Lucas matured.

This is probably a disappointing answer, so I'm sorry. Julian is much more difficult to pin down for me than Lucas. I tried to work with traits I saw in Julian throughout seasons 6-9, but you're correct that the characterization is so off it's hard to discuss. For instance, Julian starts off very cocky or at least has the persona of a very confident person. This was never Lucas, even at his worst. Lucas's defense mechanism is growing stoic, sometimes hitting below the belt to make whoever has hurt him feel as badly as he does. And I don't think that's Julian? I think Julian also has a tendency to express his love by using his money. Julian, like Nathan and Brooke, grew up with rich parents. He was able to secure his job through nepotism. Lucas came from a working class home with his biological father not contributing financially. Keith was able to pay for Lucas's college fund, but all of Lucas's successes were his own. The class differences between Lucas and Julian are represented very well in the engagement rings they give their wives. Julian gives Brooke a diamond ring with a large diamond. Lucas gives both Lindsey and Peyton the engagement ring Keith once gave to Karen, a ring with a modestly sized diamond, something more sentimental rather than extravagant. And while both men are known for their intelligence, Lucas is much more athletic than Julian.

Again, I'm sorry. I probably could have done a better job coming up with similarities and differences, but this is just off the top of my head.

#charmed-ghosts

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wroteonedad · 2 years ago

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Top 30 Films of the Year (via my Letterboxd)

I wanted to do something for Christmas that was both a summary and also something a little different from the stuff I already write, and seeing as I record pretty much every movie that I watch on my Letterboxd, then I figured I may as well write about it a little on here. In no particular order, my top 30, the perfect Christmas treat if you're trying to find a little movie to give your family some Christmas cheer.

Charade (1963)

This film is if you imagine House of Gucci except for it's a bunch of blokes trying to frame and murder each other and one of them has stolen the heart of Audrey Hepburn. This film mixes both humour and drama perfectly, and you can play a fun game where you can take a shot for every plot twist in the film. Letterboxd says I rated it 4/5 so that means I recommend it.

Uncut Gems (2019)

I watched this movie for the first time the day that I'd sent off my pcr test to find out if I had Covid (I did) so watching this was an absolute whirlwind after overdosing on cough syrup and laying in bed with a fever. This movie was the first time I'd ever seen Julia Fox in anything which is cool and that pimped out Furby.... I think about him a lot. I rated this 4 stars on Letterboxd so another recommendation.

Scooby Doo (2002)

No, not the movie where Velma wears the latex suit, the first movie. I feel like every Scooby Doo movie is just as chaotic and pretty much the same which is why I probably can't remember the plot to this. I was even more confused to read my Letterboxd review which just says 'i like the bit when mr bean turns into an oompa looma'. 5 stars though.

The Lighthouse (2019)

Truth be told, I hated this movie and my flatmates were very upset to learn that I didn't like it. It becomes funnier when you have the Vine boom noise playing in a video behind it though, it's like having an extra jumpscare. Sorry film bros, I just couldn't hack it. I rated it 0.5 stars meaning it was one of two of the lowest scoring films on my Letterboxd.

Jumbo (2020)

This movie is very French, and if you've watched enough French movies then you will know exactly what I mean by this. Without spoiling the plot too much, this is about a young woman who falls in love with a fairground ride. Very French core. You'll have to watch the rest of the movie to find out how that romance goes. This was given a 4 star rating.

American Psycho (2000)

Do I like this movie or do I just like all the memes that have come with this movie? In terms of a fairly recent cult classic, this is the correct type of movie, but I was even more surprised to learn that the Reddit dreamboat character doesn't own any branded knives, despite the amount of money he has. I rated this a solid 3.5 stars. Solid, like the film plot.

Norbit (2007)

I don't understand why there are so many copies of this movie on the shelves of CEX, it's a bit of an underrated masterpiece really. Put the heroin chic style fatshaming jokes aside, I actually find some of it pretty funny. Mostly the church scene at the end. Rated this 5 stars because I would buy every copy on the shelves.

Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)

As far as a pre-origin story goes to the original show, I think this really hits the nail on the head. It's not the story that we wanted, it's the story we needed. The random appearance from David Bowie was a bit out of this world, like the whole movie. Though I think I need to finish watching The Return and then come back to this movie so everything starts to make a little bit more sense. A solid 3 star rating, though it'll probably go up the next time I've seen it.

Macross: Do You Remember Love? (1984)

Another movie that is based on a narrative from a TV show, except you don't need to watch the show to go straight on to the movie. If you're a fan of Neon Genesis Evangelion and you're feeling a little bit feminine then this is the thing for you. Space girl sings and space things happen. Another 3 star rating.

Paul (2011)

My Letterboxd review reads; 'they did something. i'm not sure what,,, but they did something' and I think that's all I need to say about whether or not I recommend this. 2 stars.

Boiling Point (2021)

If you're British and you've ever worked in hospitality then this is the film that you'll just get. I loved this film. Angry swearing man, lots of people doing gear and an absolute shitshow from start to finish. Gave this a hard 4.5 stars and would recommend to anyone.

The Love Witch (2016)

Aesthetically wise, this has to be one of the nicest movies out there. Taking lots of inspiration from the 60s both in looks and also the overall vibe of the movie. The problem being, the plot feels a little bit empty. It's wonderful in terms of how feminist it is, but that's really all it has going for it. Another solid 3 star film.

The Gentlemen (2019)

I was minding my own business popping into the coffee shop I always go to on my days off when Raz asked me what my favourite film was at the moment; he then proceeded to lecture me because I hadn't seen this and sent me home as homework to watch it. I did. I'll tell you what, it was so worth it. The cast line up is incredible and the plot is just as solid. Proper man film full of classic laughs. Loved it. Gave it a nice 3.5 star rating.

Decision To Leave (2022)

This was the film that I'd told Raz was my favourite at the time. I'd just gone to see it in the cinema and it was just as dark and gripping as I would expect it to be. The subplot aligns with the main plot wonderfully to create a rather depressing ending. 4 stars.

The Interview (2014)

It's a Seth Rogan movie, you probably know how this one is going to go. I used to really like this film a good few years ago, but watching it back this year, I realised the only funny part was Kim Jong-Un riding around to Fireworks in his tank. I gave this a three star rating which is probably a little bit too nice.

Starstruck (2010)

Imagine you're the dude that played Chad Dylan Cooper on Sonny With a Chance and Disney asked you to play some blonde heartthrob dude for an upcoming tween movie they had in mind. This was the end result. The soundtrack features some bangers and the whole film is just full of feelgood vibes. Can't really go wrong here. I rated it 2.5 stars purely based on it being a Disney movie. The plot isn't great, but boy is it fun.

Napoleon Dynamite (2004)

The easiest way to explain this movie is that it's an Adult Swim classic except it has nothing to do with Adult Swim. Slapstick humour, autism and bad dancing all curate the wonderful comic masterpiece that is Napoleon Dynamite. Remember to vote for Pedro. 4 stars.

Suspiria (1977)

What I really love about this film is that it really doesn't make much sense at all. In fact, it's one of those films that didn't need to be made, but I'm really glad it did. It mixes really bad sound editing so you can't hear what anyone is saying and when you can hear the actors speak, it's because they've dubbed over the original lines because when it was filmed you couldn't hear what they were saying. The colours and the overall setting is magical and insane and for that reason I loved this movie. 4 and a half stars for a pioneering woman horror classic.

Her (2013)

The Joker falls in love with robot lady, or the infamous Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson). Except this is a very heartfelt story and might actually leave a tear in your eye after watching. Feels like watching a sappy episode of Black Mirror. I rated this 4 stars because I loved the movie enough to buy a physical copy of it.

The Tinder Swindler (2022)

I mean yeah that happened. The only reason I watched this was because Don't Fuck With Cats was made so well,,,, I was left majorly whelmed by this documentary. I gave this three stars for pity on all the lovely ladies he swindled. (don't even think this counts as a movie really).

Contagion (2011)

This movie was far too ahead of its time to be made. I don't need to explain the synopsis to this movie because we already lived through it. My grandma hated living through covid, but she sure loved watching this movie. 4 stars.

The Worst Person In The World (2021)

Just wanted to ask which one of the three main characters was the worst person in the world because they were all equally as bad as each other. I rated this 5 stars and I think if you haven't watched this already, then you should.

Little Joe (2019)

Little Joe could have been one of the most interesting films in the world if the director had decided to not ensure most of the film was just filler. This felt like it was a good 40 minutes too long and literally nothing happened for the last hour. The concept of this film is really cool, but it is like watching a really shit episode of Black Mirror, I rated this 2.5 stars.

The Pacifier (2005)

If you've ever thought about the idea of having Vin Diesel as your personal home counsellor then you've come to the right place. There's lots of scenes of this man both screaming and also saving lives. It's a movie you can both laugh to and also have on as background noise while you take a nap. 4 stars.

In Bruges (2008)

They're filming midgets. 4 stars for the midgets being filmed.

Borat (2006)

Made during the days where Sacha Baron Cohen was still pretty funny and not just using any form of slightly racist joke to make a person laugh. Borat sometimes almost feels like a loveable character. Bonus points for Pamela Anderson as Pamela Anderson. 3 stars.

Personal Shopper (2016)

This film feels like Kristen Stewart begging you to watch her in a movie that isn't Twilight to prove to you that she can act and that she has more than one facial expression. As it turns out, she still only has one facial expression and I find it hard to feel any form of emotion to her character at any point. I gave this a friendly three stars.

Bratz: Fashion Pixiez (2007)

Did anyone ever notice in the film that Cymbeline's dad was pretty much the same model as Fiona's dad in Shrek? I bet you didn't. Now you'll have to rewatch the film again to find that. As far as mid goes, this is the most mid Bratz film out there, the only cool thing is their outfits and that is why it was given a 5 star rating. Vibes only.

Zoolander (2001)

I'll be real with you here. This is not the movie I expected to be writing about, this movie is the last minute thrill of the year. The whole year, my TikTok has been graced with videos of Patrick Bateman with the sigma male captions underneath them, until about literally 5 days ago. My fyp plagued with that one clip of Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson pouting at each other on the red carpet. I knew I had to go back and watch the film. This is a break the scale rating of a film honestly. So many random people in it. George Costanzas dad, Paris Hilton and ,,,, David Bowie. Loved this.

Death Becomes Her (1992)

This film has got to be one of the most camp films out there, When I decided to watch this film, the plot was something I was not expecting at all, but boy were they all so real for this. Humour and discussion of women and their insecurities all perfectly blended into one. My Letterboxd review reads, 'this film made me cut my ingrown chin hair off, thanks Meryl Streep' and if that doesn't convince you to watch the film, then I don't know what will.

Well there you have it. I think this list is a perfect compilation of movies. Ones for the family, movies to scream to, movies to fall asleep to. But most of all, no matter what happens this Christmas, there is at least one movie in this list that will match the exact vibe of how it went with your family. And finally, as Gossip Girl says,,,, have a happy jolly holiday. Xoxo, Gossip Girl.

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onewomancitadel · 9 months ago

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Honestly one of the first time in a few years I've had the urge to send an anonymous ask 'correcting' somebody on a wrong opinion. I typed out the ask and everything and convinced myself to delete it.

Is vagueing just as worse? Alright, let's give it a shot: I don't think Jessica would work as a protagonist in place of Paul in Dune (even if that's the most ostensibly more 'interesting' option from a feminist perspective) because

1. Her reproductive choice, to conceive a son and realise her own ambition (he retcons this latter one later, but this is because he was setting up to do a thing in God Emperor of Dune probably. I hope anyway) is the impetus for the story happening as it does at all. She should've had a daughter (according to her Bene Gesserit orders) and then she would've been married to Feyd Rautha to then conceive a kwisatz haderach the Bene Gesserit could control. By necessity of the setting and what Herbert sets out to do (and the idea of the kwisatz haderach himself) the tragic protagonist has to be Paul as we know him. It would not be as interesting through solely the eyes of his mother (even though we do get her perspective) because we would not get the full death-drive descent of Paul. It's really just a matter of narrative prominence. And honestly I don't think she would have made for a good fall protagonist the way Paul does inheriting his mother's legacy.

1a. the role of Jessica's reproductive choice in a story where reproduction is tightly controlled according to Bene Gesserit breeding lines is a huge fucking deal. So the very existence of Paul is an assertive act on Jessica's part, and mind you she has a major role in the story anyway. She walks out into the desert with Paul.

2. I don't really know if the intention is to be more feminist or not so I'm not going to cast a specific judgement from this angle but I think it is significant that Paul is male and that he embodies masculine and feminine aspects in a sort of warped Jungian quest. I don't think you'd get nearly the same effect with him as a doomed Messiah/conqueror/emperor if he were female (and if he were female he'd have been married to Feyd Rautha, which is like a fate which hangs over his head in the final confrontation... in some ways I think Paul as the giver/taker is significant because it's sort of like he's both male and female at once, in that he's fighting his betrothed at the very end, and I think this sort of gender transgression is intentional. After all he is a man with access to feminine knowledge, that is the Bene Gesserit cult). Now as an aside I have mentioned before I think it's interesting that his own reproductive choice is emphasised in Dune Messiah which is pretty much done never with male characters - and the trope with an emperor such as Paul would be that he keeps his concubines and is the one to forcibly impregnate them. At this point with Jessica as a protagonist you're talking about a completely different story.

3. Well. I hate to be like that - this is my chief point: 'Jessica the main character' is Heretics of Dune and Chapterhouse Dune. That's Odrade, Reverend Mother and later Mother Superior. The Dar-Tar dynamic offers a tightly written female friendship (inasmuch as it can be allowed to be called that) and the general range of female characters is very strong as to feel silly to really comment from that angle at all because I would say it's the main thrust of these books. The Honoured Matres are probably the most terrifying antagonists I've encountered, and it takes four and a half books to really build up this sort of threat in the universe (which is a shame as to why these are viewed as an afterthought).

I don't speak to Herbert's feminist motives at all and I can't speak to somebody only knowing about the first book because it's not really fair to expect somebody to have full knowledge about a series, especially when the second film, adapting the first book, hasn't even come out yet, but there are reasons thematically that Jessica as the protagonist doesn't make sense but also that the set-up for Odrade is fucking fantastic and makes spending time with her worthwhile. There's a reason she's the protagonist then - that the Bene Gesserit have to rise to the call the Tyrant left - and I think it's fully justified.

I get that this was probably just somebody's throwaway comment and that's why I actually had to meaningfully hold myself back from engaging at all but I guess I got annoyed because it sort of reads like an attempt at feminist commentary? And it just feels lazy. Lol.

Was it better or worse to have typed this out? Idk. Anyway, this isn't about anybody who follows me, I just feel bad being passive-aggressive writing this out but it was really bothering me, and sending an ask is Not The Way. Can you tell Odrade is one of my favourite parts about the Dune series. That's probably why I got really annoyed actually.

#ugh no I can't use my regular tag #sorry #stirring the pot

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whoever-the-heck · 2 years ago

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I watched Aftersun yesterday.

Warning: this may contain be spoilers.

I have admired Paul Mescal ever since I first watched him in Normal People. I was so impressed with his performance there that I started following his projects. I feel a rawness in him and in his acting; he has an open face and a charming, shy smile; not hyper handsome or hunky but masculine, attractive, not hard to look at at all.

And damn, he can act. He acts like his life depends on it. He embodies his characters so well that I have to remind myself repeatedly that he is an actor. He can make you forget that sometimes.

I heard of Aftersun early on, knew he was in it, knew I had to watch it. But I kept postponing - for some reason I wouldn't dare analyze until later.

Aftersun tells a simple story, so simple in fact that regular moviegoers won't be interested in the subject matter and the plot, or the lack thereof. It tells the story of a young woman looking back on a holiday she spent with her young father when she was about 10 or 11.

From the very beginning we are introduced to Sophie, the little girl (excellent child actress, Frankie Corio), and her father, twenty-something Calum (Mescal). It's summer, and they are staying in a cheap resort. There's an ongoing construction, they aren't given the two beds he paid for in advance, and there is a public pool. She is often mistaken for his sister. He takes it in stride, corrects strangers gently. They are enjoying their vacation; they have an open, warm rapport and they hold great, sometimes even deep, conversations. He puts sunblock on her back, they play billiards with teenagers.

By all means, everything is going well. But a feeling sneaks up on you, a sense of dread, but you can't put a finger on what caused it exactly. Before you think it, no, there is nothing improper about their relationship. Calum is a loving father. You feel his affection and his tenderness, and Sophie glows with happiness in his presence. You feel their deep bond.

But the disquiet persists. Something is wrong. But what?

Mescal is a terrific actor. He wears a different face when Sophie is around. The mask slips whenever he's alone, or when she's not looking. Nothing about it is ever overt or grand acting. The best actor nomination may have been sealed by the scene of him crying with his back to the camera, without the viewer ever seeing his face.

I must warn you that if you are looking out for a great plot twist or surprise or climactic drama, you won't find that in this movie. What you will find here is a quietly growing sense of dread, an unease drumming under your skin and slowly turning deafening, until you get to the final act which lands a deeply affecting emotional impact.

In the final 15 minutes, father and young daughter dance. This scene is interspersed with flashes of adult Sophie watching her father dancing in the dark, only seen occasionally as the lights flash on and off on him. She looks on, then she tries to come closer, to grasp him, to hold him. He keeps moving fluidly, often slipping through her fingers. Then she grabs hold of him and embraces him tightly. But you still feel her desperation and hopelessness; even holding him in her arms, he remained out of reach.

And suddenly, tears were rolling down my cheeks and I couldn't understand why. Even now, thinking back on that scene as Under Pressure by Queen and Bowie played in a crescendo and I picture Paul Mescal's face as he danced and as he embraced young Sophie on the dancefloor, I can still feel my chest tightening with inexplicable sadness. Yesterday watching that was the saddest I've been in twelve years, thinking about my father. My father died when I was young, after his struggle with various diseases for about a decade. It was only a few years ago that I finally realized his depression. This movie reminded me of all the simple gestures and the good days when he would take walks with me in the afternoon or sit with me under the morning sun. Then it reminded me of all the times I caught his pained expression, his blank stares into nothingness, or the one time I witnessed him crying and his struggle to hold back the tears in my presence.

Adult Sophie understands now how she only saw one side of him, the side he showed her when she was young. He had a quiet sadness within that he couldn't totally keep; sometimes the mask slipped during conversations, during unguarded times, and she caught glimpses of his real feelings, snippets of his real thoughts. She wants to look back and understand further, to grasp the totality of his existence and make peace with the side of him he never showed her, the side she was never able to touch. She ached with the inability to go back in time and see more. That part of him, she would never know.

Aftersun tapped something in me that I only partially suspected was there: my regret at being too naive to understand my father's suffering, my regret at being too self-absorbed to see his pain, my regret at being too young.

They were right. I walked away from that movie a different person.

#aftersun #paul mescal #frankie corio #charlotte wells #fathers #movie #favorite movies #emotional movies #depression

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1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt · 2 years ago

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Early Jim Kirk: Why So Serious?

To the people who said that Paul Wesley's Captain Kirk was "too serious" or that it "wasn't our Jim Kirk":

Let's have a kiki, shall we? :)

A lot of folks seem to forget who Jim used to be before meeting him in TOS.

In an interview, Paul Wesley discussed how different Jim's early character and life was from TOS Kirk. Wesley's study of Jim and his early characterisation was in fact based on TOS descriptions and relevant lore surrounding it. I was not at all phased by the Jim we saw, as early Jim is described as quite a departure from our flirty, confident TOS Jim. Wesley did his homework.

From the chat that Kirk has with Gary Mitchell in TOS (Where No Man Has Gone Before 01x03) and Bones in Shore Leave (01x15) re: Finnegan, we learned in Jim's younger years, Kirk didn't always have that swagger. In fact, Jim used to be a rather serious nerd.

Kirk in the academy was described as "a stack of books with legs", "positively grim", and "watch out for Lieutenant Kirk. In his class, you either think or sink".

He also adhered to Starfleet rules far more in his early years a la Boimler. For example, he reported an error that older officer and very good friend of his Benjamin Finney made on the USS Republic, leading to Finney's demotion and later the events of Court Martial (01x20). He reported one of his own besties to HQ and got him demoted. Quite a departure from how often Kirk violates Starfleet orders and directives for Spock on TOS. Again, he is not the same Jim. Character growth.

I think folks get so wrapped up in Spock being the thinking guy and Kirk being the action guy that they forget: You kind of have to be a brilliant genius and thinker to even get a starship command, let alone the flagship. Jim is not dumb and never was; he is exceptionally smart. Spock is just a freaking GIGA GENIUS and anyone standing next to that might look less bright in contrast. But make no mistake, Jim is also brilliant as a military man and diplomat.

Jim is often stereotyped as a swaggering meathead when he is actually an intelligent and capable diplomat even from his earliest years with Starfleet. As a cadet, he was decorated by Starfleet with the Palm Leaf for his peace mission work on Axanar (Court Martial 01x20). As a Captain, Jim helped to complete just as many successful federation member recruitments as he did take names and kick ass.

Jim loves chess. He loves his dad's old books and classic literature. He memorizes quotes from those texts and references them constantly in TOS. How many jocks do you know out here memorizing classic literature to reference even now in our time? One of Jim's most precious, prized possessions is an old text copy of "A Tale of Two Cities" he got as a gift for his birthday from Spock.

There are still those glimpses of old Jim planted throughout TOS and the movies.

As you examine him and his past, every description of him as a young man in the original series was that he was a nerd. Kirk, as a character, shows how much we change as people from high school/uni to adulthood.

The early Jim Kirk is not the Kirk we knew and loved, and he often comes as a surprise to folks accustomed to the Jim he later becomes. He grows into his own over time and finds himself, like many of us. But Wesley's portrayal seemed surprisingly apt to me, considering early descriptions of James T. Kirk's character.

TLDR: Jim Kirk was described in his early years as "serious", "positively grim", "a stack of books with legs", top of his class, and would report you to HQ for a crumb. This is not the Captain Kirk you knew who took command of the Enterprise in 2265. Jim Kirk used to be a serious, passionate Starfleet nerd.

All in all, I thought Paul Wesley's character study with all this considered was

Anyway, thanks for coming to my Ted X Talk about baby James Tiberius Kirk.

I'd love to hear from you folks, feel free to chip in, add to this or correct any errors. :) LLAP.🖖

EDIT: See Part 2 of this Jim Kirk SNW AU Analysis where I respond to an ask from @letteredlettered; we get into the importance of the Triumvirate for Kirk Prime, as well as the relevance of why Jim Kirk being assigned the Farragut would be a poor choice of command commission for him. It further solidifies that this is not “our Kirk”, but an AU where we see what would come of our Kirk if he did not get the flagship commission or meet his boays to form the Trek Trinity.

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belle-keys · 3 years ago

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parts of some classic lit that hit different for me

“Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault. Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope. They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty. There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book. Books are well written, or badly written. That is all.”

- the iconic piece on books and morality from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde

You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be. Estella, to the last hour of my life, you cannot choose but remain part of my character, part of the little good in me, part of the evil. But, in this separation I associate you only with the good, and I will faithfully hold you to that always, for you must have done me far more good than harm, let me feel now what sharp distress I may. O God bless you, God forgive you!

- the “you are in every line I have ever read” tyrade in Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita. Did she have a precursor? She did, indeed she did. In point of fact, there might have been no Lolita at all had I not loved, one summer, an initial girl-child. In a princedom by the sea. Oh when? About as many years before Lolita was born as my age was that summer. You can always count on a murderer for a fancy prose style. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the seraphs, the misinformed, simple, noble-winged seraphs, envied. Look at this tangle of thorns.

- the whole opening of Lolita by Vladimir Nabakov

My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I am Heathcliff! He's always, always in my mind: not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being.

- Catherine’s confession about Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately an only son (for many years an only child), I was spoilt by my parents, who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing; to care for none beyond my own family circle; to think meanly of all the rest of the world; to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You taught me a lesson, hard indeed at first, but most advantageous. By you, I was properly humbled. I came to you without a doubt of my reception. You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.

- Darcy admitting the big truth to Lizzy in Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss. I see the lives for which I lay down my life, peaceful, useful, prosperous and happy. I see that I hold a sanctuary in their hearts, and in the hearts of their descendants, generations hence. It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.

- Sydney Carton’s last words (*crying*) in A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

You cling so tightly to your purity, my lad! How terrified you are of sullying your hands. Well, go ahead then, stay pure! What good will it do, and why even bother coming here among us? Purity is a concept of fakirs and friars. But you, the intellectuals, the bourgeois anarchists, you invoke purity as your rationalization for doing nothing. Do nothing, don’t move, wrap your arms tight around your body, put on your gloves. As for myself, my hands are dirty. I have plunged my arms up to the elbows in excrement and blood. And what else should one do? Do you suppose that it is possible to govern innocently?

- Hoederer being a realistic bad bitch, that’s what, in Les Mains Sales by Jean-Paul Sartre

I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy—they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.

The “they were careless people” realization in The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

‘Hateful day when I received life!' I exclaimed in agony. 'Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemlance. Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and abhorred.'

Frankenstein’s monster’s teenage angst in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein

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chainofclovers · 3 years ago

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Ted Lasso 2x9 thoughts

It’s no secret that I absolutely adore Coach Beard; he’s one of my favorite characters on the show, and he’s so well-written and well-acted that somehow I tend to be both perfectly satisfied with the details we see and truly curious to understand more about the way he thinks, what’s really happening re: his professional and personal devotion to Ted, where he comes from and where he’s going. I don’t need to know his name beyond the name he wants to be called, but I want to know why we don’t have any other names for him. And I don’t need him to be a bigger focal point of every episode, but I very much needed this episode’s world-exploding reminder that every single character on this show has a rich inner life, full of joys and troubles.

“Beard After Hours” is like a movie, but one that scatters its climaxes and puts off its resolutions...because it’s not a movie. It’s episode nine of a twelve-episode season of TV. When the episode ended, I felt this almost frantic “But he needed to break up with Jane for good before the end of the episode!” feeling. I was so pulled in by the idea of being able to tell an entire story in one night, of going on an odyssey alongside a complicated hero, that watching Beard and Jane find each other in that club felt as intense as the fact that we don’t know if Ted responded to Rebecca’s voicemail and we don’t know what’s going to happen with Rebecca and Sam and we don’t know who isn’t getting married and who is having a funeral in 2x10 (I mean, I have my strong suspicions, but still!) and we don’t know if Richmond will be promoted back to the Premier League. And on and on. I didn’t mind feeling desperate for the story to resolve even though I understood after thinking about it for ten seconds that of course it couldn’t resolve yet. Or ever. Or yet.

I’m a big fan of the TL episode recaps/reviews Linda Holmes writes for NPR, and I have to quote something from this week’s directly because it so perfectly explains my feelings:

The power of the scene where Beard dances in the club isn't that it's a beautiful romantic climax. It's that it's an explanation of why he cannot seem to extricate himself from this bad relationship. What makes the worst relationships so dangerous is that they have elements that feel good that are very hard to get elsewhere. Beard knows that; he tells it to God. What's concerning isn't that Jane makes the world seem more interesting; what's concerning is she's the only thing that does. That doesn't take away from the joy of the dancing; it just tells you that even happiness is complicated.

I love Holmes’ perspective here so much, because it articulates something I was struggling to figure out: how it can feel so legitimate, like such a (temporary but nonetheless powerful) relief, for Beard to find Jane in that club and to have this moment of euphoria as his night nears an end. How it is possible to experience that relief on behalf of a character while fervently wishing it could end differently, because it’s so clear from the abusive text messages and the toxic calls and the manipulative interactions that Jane is terrible to him and they’re terrible for each other. But Beard knows this. He knows it when he hugs Higgins in the parking lot after Higgins is honest with him in a way Ted and Rebecca and Keeley have not learned how to be, and he knows it when part of his prayer includes the clear articulation that Jane isn’t the cure for what “ails me.” He’s inching closer to greater self-knowledge just as Ted is.

And the two big resolutions that really, really needed to happen did. I didn’t know I needed Paul, Baz, and Jeremy to get to wrap up their own night out on the pitch at Nelson Road, but I did. It brought actual tears to my eyes. And the other resolution was Beard showing up with the other coaches’ coffees for their meeting to watch the game film. As interesting as it would have been to see what Ted would have done if Beard hadn’t shown up, I’m so, so glad that he did. He’s got a messed-up face and some truly epic pants on, but otherwise this is just Beard showing up for work, showing up for his friends. It was incredible to realize that Beard and Ted haven’t been exaggerating when they’ve referred to his sex-and-drug proclivities in the past. The night documented in 2x9 might have been particularly scary and violent and euphoric and awful and meaningful, but this type of all-night adventure isn’t a foreign concept for this guy. In all the other episodes of this show, when we see Beard we’re seeing someone who might have been out all night, who might have spent the hours the sun was down desperately pushing himself closer to whatever edges he could find.

I don’t really want to touch upon all the allusions in this episode. They are abundant, they are well-documented, and also I haven’t even seen the movie After Hours. I enjoyed this episode for its allusive qualities and I enjoyed this episode for what it was and I feel like I have to be at peace with the fact that I’m never going to pick up on every single reference on this show and that is okay.

So, yeah, if this entry on my tumblr dot com blog seems remarkably devoid of references and allusions, it’s not because I’m not into it but because I find it too overwhelming to actually write about.

Very into the Misplaced and Discovered box at the Crown and Anchor. (That’s what Mae wrote on the Lost and Found box at the pub, right? Whatever it is, it’s so funny.)

Beard hallucinating Thierry Henry and Gary Lineker was truly upsetting and a great indicator not only of how broken things are between the Richmond coaching staff right now but also how deep Beard’s self-loathing might go. If you’d asked me before Thursday if I thought Beard loathed himself, I would say no. That deepening of knowledge alone makes 2x9 worth it.

James Tartt and his friends in the alley. Such a nightmare. I go back and forth on how much of the night was real, and part of me has decided all of it is, short of the images of Henry and Lineker. (And even that is real to the extent that it was a way of articulating what was in Beard’s head.) But watching Beard in physical danger brought on by the same abuser who had him so upset in the first place. It was a lot.

I’m so excited that Paul and Jeremy and Baz got some spotlight this episode. It was so wonderful to see them out of the pub. I love that they ended up telling the Oxford snots who they really were. They got to see Beard going to bat for them and smoothing over the situation socially, and that actually made it more possible for them to end up being truthful about themselves. Because they have nothing to be ashamed of, and they deserved the magic of that night. (And for it to end on Nelson Road. Every feeling. Oof.)

I feel like I barely have anything to say about the trouser-mending lady or the many places Beard goes or his key-dropping or the nightmarish feeling of wanting to be home and being unable to be home. It all happened and we all watched it and again, it was a lot. But I do feel incredibly moved and fascinated by the fact that Beard very obviously still hasn’t been home when he brings in the coffee. He’s had to sleep at the club for Jane- and key-related reasons in the past, and this time it’s not that he’s slept there but it still feels like a kind of homecoming he was robbed of for the entire night. Ted and Roy and Nate are there. He’s gotten their coffee orders correct. Ted is growing and evolving (he wants to learn from what’s happened, he’s insisting upon it even when the others resist) but he’s done a really perfect (almost romantic in its loveliness) thing by presumably spending his evening following a breakdown of his own speeding up the game film to 10x speed and adding Benny Hill. Ted is not OK and Beard is not OK and Nate is not OK and Roy is pretty OK but could very easily be not OK because he’s just joined a coaching staff with a whole lot of not OK. But they all showed up.

I am very into the realism of the lights being off in the club other than the coaches’ office (@talldecafcappuccino pointed this out!), and the way we’re seeing their desks from a different angle because this episode is unfocused on Ted. It really added to the mindset of being hungover and exhausted and unable to go home or even to know exactly what home should be; even this warm, familiar place feels off even as it’s a relief to be back there.

I am excited to return to our regularly scheduled programming with the full cast of characters, but I really adored this episode for what it taught us about Beard and what it illuminated about the humor, pain, and complexity of each person who inhabits this universe. Beard may not be loud about his long-standing beliefs or about the things he’s learned, but there’s a lot happening in there and I appreciated getting to spend 43 minutes with him and (in the case of the ticket he scrawls on a piece of paper so the pub guys can get into Nelson Road) the moments he sets in motion.

#ted lasso #ted lasso s2 spoilers #ted lasso 2x9 #meta by me #a lesbian watches ted lasso #coach beard

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years ago

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A quick lesson on ships

Because why not??😌

No but seriously, bare with me, I'm trying to answer your questions. Sit if you have to. Hehe

Uban Dictionary defines shipping as this:

A term used to describe fan fictions that take previously created characters and put them as a pair. It usually refers to romantic relationships, but it can refer platonic [sic] ones as well. (Just think of “shipping” as short for “relationSHIP”.) 9 Apr 2015

Ships can be platonic or romantic or both.

There's fictional ships and non fictional ships too. You ship two people you want to be in a relationship or who already are in a relationship or who you suspect to be in a relationship- perhaps due to queer baiting, ship baiting, romance baiting etc.

In the shipping fandom, there are two sects of people. Those who are Proships those who are Antiships- antis are ironically considered part of the shipping community because for some reason they are always in shippers business💀

Antishippers are those who oppose a particular ship or shipping in general (more on that later.)

Proshippers are well- Pro ships.

Pro-Ship

A term mostly used in fandoms, but can stretch outside of this to include original characters. The core belief is that shipping two fictional characters, no matter if they are family, share ages gaps, considered to be unhealthy, or show blatant signs of being abusive or other generally unsavory behaviours, are valid in a fictional setting.

Pro-Shippers or "anti-antis" are also known as "rainbow meaties" and will use 🌈 + 🍖 emojis together often in their bio on twitter or other social media platforms- usually within fictional settings.

These shippers reinforce the idea fiction is separate from reality and shouldn't be confused with the other.

‘Anti’ is short for ‘anti-shipper’ or ‘anti-[ship]’.

Kindly read through this thread to get the gist of it.

III

Shipping non-fictional individuals is a subset of Proshipping, in my opinion, known also as alternative shipping- as far as my knowledge on it goes.

As with fictional shipping, alt ships have their antis too. People who disagree with shipping real couples in a romantic way for whatever arbitrary moral reasons they have and who feel entitled to go out of their way to correct, stop, police and punish such shippers.

Then there are those who although may be pro real people shipping think they have the right to tell others how they should ship and to what extent they can ship.

Others too prefer to ship real people platonically because they view romantic shipping of real people as problematic.

So to answer your question on Anon's post- there is no such thing as a Proshipper who is also Anti shipping. Thats oxymoronic. Perhaps they might be platonic shippers who are anti romantic ships but not necessarily romantic shippers themselves.

I don't think there's anything wrong with preferring to ship platonically. It is when they assume by virtue of their false sense of moderacy that they are better than others that shit starts to get funny.

Those shippers are delusionally confused beings with a supremacist imperialist complex rooted in ignorance and absurdities.

I usually walk by those quietly. keep it pushing. Gotta mind my business somehow even though most times I just want to pull their hair and bite them and shit😭

I try to keep it classy.

Lord knows I try.

You are either pro ship or anti ship. There's no in between. Those shippers who are shippers but claim they are not are nothing but fraudulent, fake us, simps trying to bamboozle their way through life- pardon my Swahili.

There are a lot of anti shippers moonlighting as shippers in this fandom. It's fascinating.

Personally I think those people are either confused or their desires to appeal to other Anti shippers must have morphed their brains into ass dick hybrids.

Anti shippers in general are notorious gatekeepers, gaslighters, bigots, high key sanctimonious and often have a cis white westernized sense of morality and ethics through which they fliter others and expect everyone and everything to conform to.

They impose their values on others, their ethics on others, resort to manipulation, policing, intimidation and bullying to impose their will etc.

Within shipping, there are those who are Proshipping yet anti certain ships. Most Tuktukkers are anti Jikook. And assume anyone who isn't a tuktukker is equally anti Tae Kook and so go ahead and exhibit anti behaviours towards them.

Think of such groups of shippers as Proshippers with a preference for particular ships if you will.

There are Pro shippers who also feel some kind of way about Shipping real life people or alt shipping.

Here's further resource to help you understand what proshipping is

If you are intolerant with other shippers choice of ships or style of shipping and you traumatize them for it that's Anti shipping. Especially if you feel entitled and justified to traumatize others because you take a higher moral status over them.

You can be proship and not like how certain people, how they go about

Simply walk away, click off, mind your business. You are not the only adult in these streets and leave people to do what interests them.

I think for as long as I can remember, I've always been a proshipper and I ship both platonically and romantically, fictionally and alternatively💀

Some themes in fiction are a hard limit for me such as the R word, pedophilia, incest, child abuse- I just can never find the entertainment in those topics and will struggle through such themes.

But others believe it's just FICTION and those fictional characters aren't really dealing with the imaginary struggles we read about.

Yall do you sis.

I don't really know why people make a big deal of it or try to demonize the concept of shipping as if it were something strange or mysterious- just keep your moral values to yourself. I am not your mother's daughter. we were not raised in the same households.

Then again I think it all depends on the different cultures and social backgrounds we all come from and how entitled, supremacist or imperialist they are.

For Yoonmin, I shipped them romantically but didn't think they were a real couple at all. I just romanticized their interactions and found humor in it. At the back of my head I was expecting them each to one day find husbands or wives and go their merry ways and even harbored the thought they each could very much be in serious romantic relationships with others.

In similar ways, I shipped Minimoni and Vmin.

You can ship a pair romantically and not think at all that they are actually REAL.

A lot of jokers ship Jikook romantically and don't assume they are real. Just as a lot of people shipped say Elena and Stefan romantically even though Paul was married.

Some shipped Elena and Damon too due to their unscreen chemistry and even felt they could be a thing- that was before later it was revealed they had started dating in real life. Even that I was holding on to my Bonnie x Damon fantasies because Bonnie was my bias and I shipped her with everyone romantically- of course I didn't expect any of those ships to manifest into something because it was the character I was shipping not Kat herself. To this day I still love her onscreen chemistry and friendship with Damon and don't see how people could wish for it to be more than that😭

It was beautiful as is. Not everything should climax into sexual intercourse.

But if I felt at some point any of her ships had crossed into alternative ships I would have jumped on those and supported it whole heartedly.

If you assume a pair are a real couple and dating in real life that's alt shipping- a lot of alt shippers suspect a ship is real and that's why they ship them.

There is no such thing as platonic alt shipping.

And for me personally, because I believe Jikook are a real couple and have made that cross over I don't ship any of that pair romantically with other members anymore.

It's bizzare to me to ship someone I know has a partner romantically with anybody else- I make exceptions for Vmin of course💀

I know JK is side eyeing me but I don't care.

I want Tae to be happy too😭😭😭

Tae just wants his bestfriend and soulmate😭

It's too much😭😭😭😭😭😭

He stays shooting his shots🤣

Jimin Harem is real🤭

I must admit, I catch myself slipping on Vmin and Minimoni every now and then- old habits die hard and they don't make it easy 😫

But that don't mean I think Vmin is dating. THAT WOULD BE WILD.

Summary

Proshippers can be Platonic or Romantic shippers and you can ship a pair romantically and not assume they are real at all.

Anti shippers are just assholes trying to beat their values down people's throats.

Alt shippers don't ship their OTP with other players romantically.

I don't know what you mean by Jinkooker...

Do you ship Jinkook romantically or think they are real?? Sis...

Maybe you just ship them platonically or casually.

I ship all the ships platonically.

Especially all Jimin"s Tae's ships. I'd let my self flirt with the idea of romance every now and then.

JK's ships don't make sense to me as ships.

As nonplatonic ships I mean.

I'm fascinated each time I see a hardcore JK x any member ship besides Jikook swearing up and down JK is screwing Namjoon🤣🤣

I hope this helps??

GOLDY

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katatonicimpression · 2 years ago

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Marvel Voices - Iceman

Time for me to be too much about this one

Off the top, this is a lighthearted, cartooney free to read comic. Expectations should be set accordingly, like with all these infinity comics.

I really like the outfit - although I'm a little less convinced of it when Dauterman drew it so idk. It suits Vecchio's style really well.

On a related point, damn is it nice to see Bobby's face every now and then. Also: Vecchio goes for a brown haired, brown eyed Bobby and I think this is the correct choice. I also kinda love how he leans into the body hair - you don't see it enough in comic books tbh. In an ideal world, he'd have curly hair like he did in the 80s, but I'll take what I can get.

RETURN OF ICE GOLEMS!!! YES THANK YOU I MISSED THEM!!!

This was brilliant:

Also hey Pyro, hanging out with Blob and is that Toad???

I don't think it even makes sense for it to be toad but whatever I'm saying it is

I mentioned before that putting some distance in between Bobby and Christian is a really good idea. Duggan just lumped him with Christian with no real plan for them and it felt awkward.

I also appreciate the move of separating Bobby from Krakoa. He makes more sense as someone who interacts with humans a lot. Also as Jean-Paul put it:

I'm also happy to see Angelica. Love their friendship it just gives me good vibes

"Please don't be Raven." - I laughed

Like with the lava monsters, this is a fun little self contained adventure

Oh wow OK I wasn't expecting that

Or that

"Sometimes I don't know why I do what I do."

This is pretty impactful I think

Already more time spent on this relationship in this one mini series than in two years of Marauders.

Another good one:

I think I like this vibe actually

And I appreciate that the "realising his full potential" thing is being directly challenged in the text

Lol:

Once again, surprisingly hard hitting subject matter

What's this? A metaphor for emotional pain using mutant powers? Is it my birthday already?

Lol:

Shout out to Christian's new outfit:

I liked this

Closing thoughts:

Lol I say "closing" like I won't be thinking about this for weeks

Once again Vecchio deserves serious credit with the art here. I know a lot of people find his characters too babyfaced. I don't mind that myself but either way, you've got to admit that he really makes something work with the scrolling format better than a lot of these comics do. He's also doing great with the ice in general. It's just really pretty and also crisp and clear. Just fabulous.

I also think he really deserves credit for doing his homework on the character (referencing the comic where Loki kidnaps him lmao). It's arguably the bare minimum, but maybe after years of writers half arsing Bobby, it's nice to see someone try. If nothing else, he definitely depicts his entire arse.

I also think that Vecchio does get Bobby. Obviously different writers have different interpretations and all, and I'm sure we're not on the same page on everything. But his version is super valid.

The series hits harder than it needs to. I don't want to give spoilers because I genuinely think people should read it.

But yes overall I'm really impressed. For a little infinity comic, it's genuinely really doing a lot. I'm still in mourning for how Duggan now has control of this character again, but this has definitely put a damper on the pain.

But yes, very funny and very gay and surprisingly emotional.

#dauterman and others should give the ice scruff a try tbh #iceman #bobby drake #iceman (2022)

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Rock ‘N’ Roll People In A Disco World

Part 4- Your Disco Needs You.

Intro: Paul adjusts to life at home post the shooting.

Pairing: Paul Diskant x Reader

Warnings: Bad language, Smut (NSFW, 18+) A heap of angst and feelings. He’s a soft, lil bean…

Word Count: 8k

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Rock ‘n’ Roll People Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 3

Three weeks. He'd been home three weeks and with each hour that passed Paul felt less like himself. He was frustrated, angry, irritated and irritable. Upon his discharge from the hospital, his attending physician explained that the road ahead wasn't going to be easy and so far that had proved correct. He'd spent eight days in ICU, not to mention the few after in the recovery ward, and according to the medical team at his disposal, each day spent there in ICU was a full week of added recovery at home. Eight fucking weeks. He wasn’t even half way through. Physically, bar his vocal chords, there had been little lasting damage. Something he should be grateful for, apparently. The wound in his neck had healed well so far, leaving an angry raised pink scar behind, but other than that, to look at, there was no physical signs he’d been moments from death at all. Emotionally, however, well, he was a wreck. If it weren't the continued nightmares as his mind rehashed the horror inflicted in the line of duty, it was the constant desperation to be himself inside and out, to feel like he was HER Disco. For the first two weeks post the shooting, he'd been reduced to writing things on a notepad for Y/N and others as he couldn't speak more than a word or two and at a faint whisper or angry rasp. Over the last week, it had improved a little but still, holding a prolonged conversation was painful and he often as a result found himself reaching for that fucking notepad as a means to an end when it simply became too damned much to bear.

He hated it.

Not only was socialising his forte, but his and Y/N’s relationship usually operated with a lot of conversation as they would talk over dinner, joke when watching TV, chat or whisper to each other when laying in bed at night. And not being able to indulge in those simple things properly with his fiancée was killing him. And don't even get him going on his thoughts and anguish over the way they'd not been their usual intimate selves. From touches and sweet kisses, to sex and general intimacy, there had been none, not due to anything she'd done, but all down to him, and how he viewed himself, felt about himself. He pulled open the fridge, reaching in for the eggs and bacon before he moved to the stove, coffee brewing in the pot to the side. As he set about making them breakfast, he lost himself momentarily, concentrating on whisking the eggs ready to scramble before he heard the bedroom door click open as Y/N shuffled out into the bathroom. A few minutes later he heard her footsteps hit that squeaky board in the small hallway as she headed down to their kitchen. Soon he felt her arms around his waist, hands hooking over his chest and shoulders. Her lips pressed to the back of his shoulder. "I can take over." Quickly, Paul twisted out of her hold and raspilly said, "I can manage." She stepped back from him, and he was immediately crushed with guilt as he took in the look on her face. The way her eyes were downcast and how hard she swallowed. He watched as she blinked hard, moved her lips to say something and then she simply sighed, her shoulders dropping as she turned and left, back the way she came, down the hall and back into the bathroom. When he heard the slam of the door echo across their small apartment, Diskant threw the wooden spoon across the counter and leaned against its edge, a silent curse across his lips as let out a deep sigh.

For the last three weeks, this was how their days had started and ultimately set the tone for the hours to follow. He didn't know where to begin to try and as for Y/N, well, she couldn't try any harder.

**** The door shut behind you with a little more force than you’d meant, having slammed it by accident in your haste to escape quickly before the tears of frustration and hurt spilt from your eyes. You were trying to rationalise his behaviour, you knew he was frustrated at how his recovery was progressing, more so because physically he looked okay. But he wasn’t. He was weak, sleeping a lot. He struggled to talk for more than a few minutes at a time and the simplest of tasks seemed to leave him drained. But you could cope with that, hell, you expected it. What you hadn’t expected however, was what hurt you the most- the fact he seemed to be shutting you out. Your relationship had always thrived on the fact you had no secrets, there wasn’t a thing the pair of you couldn’t talk about but now, it was like he’d put up a wall to keep you out. And it hurt.

You turned on the shower and whilst you waited for the water to warm, you stripped off your pyjamas and made sure to pile your hair out of the way to avoid it getting wet. Once it was at the right temperature you stepped into the cubicle, closing the glass screen door behind you and tipped your face up to greet the warm spray as the water washed away your silent tears… The day had finally come and he was going home. Things were set and the car was running and waiting. He'd been able to dress in a pair of sweats, his trainers and a button down shirt, sighing as he couldn't just walk out but had to be rolled out. Words were few, and very soft, a stark difference to his typical boisterous laugh and toothy grin. But you were all thankful, thankful he was alive, thankful he was okay and healing. His parents offered to take you both home, yours and Barnes waiting for you to arrive back at the apartment. Your parents had worked diligently at deep cleaning for you, taking one less thing off your list to do, knowing the first few days home would been an adjustment period, learning how to move with one another and go about a new routine from at home therapy to outside appointments, no doubt eventually a steady stream of visitors. You honestly were fine with whatever Paul had wanted. In reality, he hadn't said much or written much on his pad of paper all morning. But you went along with it anyway. The nurse wheeled him out and you walked along his side, the feeling of relief washing over you as you stepped over the threshold of the hospital entrance and watched him breathe in his first breath of fresh air in ten days. You held back tears, thankful for your Wayfarers covering your eyes. But you didn't miss his, the way he was desperately trying to keep himself together around everyone else. He gave a nod in thanks to the nurse and slowly sat down in the back seat of his parents' SUV whilst you moved around to the other side to settle yourself in. Nothing was said, it didn't need to be, but you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as Big Jim pulled away from the curb and headed towards home. When you went to move your hand away, he gripped it tightly, looking at you with those deep pools of blue.. You wanted to reach out to him, touch him on the one place you knew comforted him, made him melt, tell him he'd be okay, reassure him, but he was to your right, therefore his sutures and bandages were along the left of his neck and you couldn't touch him there, it was still painful, raw and frail. So you let him grip your hand the whole way home, the top of it reaching his lips a few times, just so, you thought at least, that he knew you were there, reminding him he was going to be okay. That he had you. As the four of you made your way into the apartment, you remembered that Barnes, your parents and by now no doubt Sam were there waiting for you all. Sure as you'd guessed, a thundering cheer and smiles came from the living room and filtered into your kitchen. The one bedroom, small space at capacity with guests. It was not the time for a 'Welcome Home' party. As Paul gathered a moment to himself, he looked to you and signalled he needed to write something down, so you grabbed the nearest note pad and a pen, the items you always had on the coffee table that collected your lists for groceries and to do items. His 'Honey Do' list as he liked to call it. He scribbled hastily and practically shoved the pad back at you. 'Can't do this. Need time.' "Okay," you looked at him after reading, "okay." You ushered over to Big Jim and Dotty, gently telling them that he was asking for some space, and they quickly understood, saying their goodbyes as you made the rounds, hoping neither of you looked like assholes in asking everyone to leave. With deep understanding, everyone left, allowing the two of you time together. You went to the kitchen to get water for you both, sighing as you saw the fridge stocked full and a freezer full of meals. Dotty and your mother, no doubt having done all that. When you returned to the living room, just a dozen steps away, Paul was sitting on the couch, hands on his thighs, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, I should have stepped in and said it was better to have people see you when you were ready. I didn't think...." A deep sigh interrupted you and what was an empty hand was now jotting a note again. He turned the notepad in his lap. 'I just need you.' Your lip quickly quivered and you gently leaned in to kiss his lips softly. "I'm right here." He gave you a small smile as you sat beside him.

“Do you want to shower? Eat? Sleep?" Paul frowned deeply at each of your asks. He shook his hands at you, trying to tell you to slow down. Then, you sat in silence. He slowly stood after a long stretch of nothing between you and headed down the hall to the bathroom, albeit a bit wobbly at first and when you rose to help steady him, he shrugged you off. You gave him his space, but worried about him on his own. Then you heard the click of the door and the shower running… A knock on the bathroom door dragged you from your thoughts and knowing it could only be Paul, you turned the shower off for a moment so he didn’t have to shout. “Yeah?” You cleared your throat and listened carefully. “Breakfast is waiting when you’re done.” His voice was croaky, but you picked up his words easily enough through the thin door. “Okay, give me a moment. Be right out.” You called back, no longer wondering why he didn't open the door anymore or why he locked it when he was inside. You turned the shower back on, quickly lathered up your gel before washing and stepping out, towelling down before you slipped on a lightweight robe and opened the door.

*****

He waited for her at their small kitchenette, their places set, food already plated. He admired her, how she was dressed in her robe but as his eyes moved to hers, he noticed those beautiful orbs that he loved waking up to each and every day were red and puffy, despite her shower. He watched as she moved her food around her plate, eyes cast downward at the yellow scrambled eggs, slightly runny just the way she liked them. He tried to clear his throat but it stung so he reached over the tiny table-top and touched her hand. When her eyes met his, he spoke, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...” The words died in his throat as his voice gave out and he gave an exasperated gesture mouth, a frustrated noise escaping from his nose. "It's okay," she replied, her own words catching in her throat. His chest heaved with a heavy breath and his hand flexed into a fist, redirecting his frustration to have more control of his feelings, a shake of his head. It wasn't okay. None of this was okay.

She didn't speak, she just slowly popped a shoulder with a shrug and tilted her head to the right to meet it. He could tell she was grinding her teeth, that flex in her jaw evident. She cleared her throat and shook her head, "I can't eat right now." She scooted away from the table and took her plate with her, setting it in the fridge and escaping to their room. When that door shut, Diskant rubbed his hands over his face. Things weren't going to improve between them if he didn't try to get his words out but it was fucking near impossible. And God damn it he was downright exhausted at writing it all down. He had so much to say, so much he wanted to be able to tell her but he didn't want to waste the ink. He wanted his life back. The dishes were done before they'd sat down to eat, so, wanting to give himself time and continue to give Y/N her space, he slipped into the bathroom for his own shower.

Taking a moment to figure out what exactly he was doing, Paul sighed. Shower, then figure it out with Y/N. They needed to talk, properly, even if it made him hoarse. Three weeks of struggling to just.... live and move on were enough. He brought his eyes to the mirror as his stood with his palms flat against the basin, his scar peeking out the top collar of his white tee.

He'd grown to looking in the mirror more often than when he'd first come home. His reflection made him feel somewhat of a beast, a man no longer what he once was but something of fright. The scar by no means was earth shatteringly grotesque, and Paul wasn't naturally a man of conceitedness, however, it was still a shock to see.

Not for the first him he'd wondered how it looked to Y/N. It was hideous in his mind, and he was afraid she was grossed out because of it too. The bullet had pierced through one of the places on his body where he simply relished her touch. From the friendly and tender tickle on the couch as they watched TV to the desperate way she would cling to it as she lay under him, it was just something they had shared since the start and now he held a million worries. It might hurt, maybe her touch would have lost the ability to drag the reactions it normally did, that he would have lost that special place that she only she knew about and could use to make him melt.

He was scared of his own girl’s touch, and while it was an absolute ridiculous notion, it flat out petrified him. It petrified him for the very fact that he couldn't feel ANYTHING there. Not the water that touched it, the feel of his own fingers ghosting over it or the bite of a pinch he'd given himself just to test the nerves.

He felt nothing.

He stared at his reflection, running a hand over the month long beard that had grown as of late. He wasn't supposed to shave, having been on blood thinners since his surgery, but those ran out a few days ago. Turning his head to the right, and then to the left, he sighed. Maybe he'd feel a bit better if he did…more like himself.

With a sigh he pulled the trimmers from under the sink and plugged them into the outlet. Then he started filling the sink with lukewarm water, preparing a fresh razor for use. Stripping down to his boxer briefs, he took a good look at himself, eyes burning into the mirror as he took in his pale colour, his sad eyes, the dark circles under them, no doubt result of the nightmares waking both he and Y/N in the night, and then that ugly line. He sighed as his mind travelled back to their first night home from the hospital… He hadn’t meant to push everyone away but it was overwhelming. He just wanted her. His second chance at life was handed to him and all he wanted was her, time with her. Everyone and everything else could wait. He was a little unsteady on his feet, a weak wobble really that would surely pass the more he moved but he wasn't his entirely strong self either. He felt weak, looked pale and was sporting a near two week stubble that was itchy, but there was nothing he could do about it. More pressing than the ever increasing facial hair, however, was the fact he was craving a shower. Having suffered the indignity of nothing but sponge baths and body washes in the hospital, he simply wanted nothing more than to stand under the steam of their surprisingly powerful shower, in their little bathroom and clean himself off, wash away the clinical smell of the hospital that seemed to cling to his skin.

He turned the water on first, the sound of it spraying from the shower head a joyful sound. He knew he'd have to go slow, take it easy and be gentle on himself. Paul slipped his sweats down over his narrow hips, the material pooling at his feet and he kicked them away to the corner of the space. Then, with trembling fingers, he started on his button down, swallowing back a nervous knot painfully in his throat.

By the time he was stripped down to his boxer briefs, there was a covering of steam on the mirror and he swiped at it with his hand. Then gently, ever so gently, he began to peel back the medical tape holding the gauze to his neck, knowing he’d have to replace the dressing once he’d showered. Not that it mattered, he’d been sent home with what felt like enough gauze, dressings and surgical tape to patch up a fucking army.

What he saw was not his own skin. Gone was his St. Christopher medallion on his favourite chain, one his parents had gotten him when he graduated from the Police Academy, and near where the chain would lay against his collarbone and neck was the repair hours of surgery and a week and a half in the hospital had caused him. Still, he was alive. When all was said and done, a chain could be replaced and his wound would heal.

With a final glance at his wound he carefully stepped into the hot water, and a soft moan escaped his mouth as he relished the way it felt on his skin, searing the back of his legs, his ass and lower back. He took a half step back and the water moved up to just under his shoulder blades. As the water beat down on him, he grabbed a bottle of his favoured shower gel and lathered a good amount all over himself, before rinsing and repeating the motion several times. Then, with a movement that was more reflex than conscious, he picked up Y/N's gel and turned the cap, taking a long inhale of the scent that comforted him. He felt his throat tighten and he started to panic, but quickly realized he was swallowing down a cry rather than there being a problem with his wound. He placed the gel back and turned his face into the stream of water, blinking fiercely as the tears welled and bled from his screwed up eyes, mingling with the steady droplets that hit his cheeks from the shower.

He leaned into the stream farther, allowing it to wash over his head, literally drowning out the sound of everything around him. His palms rested flat against the tile, a stretch and pull from his muscles that had atrophied during his stay. Awakening muscles and tendons that were mangled and manipulated to heal.

How long he was in there, he had no idea, but eventually, he felt the temperature starting to drop a little, signalling he'd been in there far longer than he'd intended. Reaching out, he turned the shower off and then stepped out, grabbing a towel which he ran over his head, almost snorting when he remembered his hair was no longer as short as it had been, realising that Y/N had never really seen him with hair as such before.

Because yeah, that’s what she was going to be looking at. His hair, not the huge three inch gash on his neck that made him look like some kind of fucking Frankenstein monster.

With a roll of his eyes, Paul wrapped his lower half in a towel and opened the door to the bathroom, stepping across the hall. When he entered the bedroom, he found Y/N sitting in the edge of their bed, a familiar necklace in her hands like a rosary, her knees bouncing up and down. He noted how cautiously she lifted her eyes to look at his, and didn't miss the way they quickly flicked to his wound and back to his. He felt that painful lump in his throat for again. She rose to her feet and took a step toward him.

“The chain, well... they had to cut it.” She said quietly, holding out her hand where the necklace sat. “So I got you a new one.” She held it out to him and he paused, his hand reaching towards the chain “The pendant was fine so...”

He reached out to take it, his fingers softly brushing her palm as he clasped the metal in his hands. He turned the small, silver disk over and gave her a small smile before he placed it on his nightstand.

“Do you want me to put it on?” She asked, moving to pick it up. “I can-"

With a movement that was a little harsher than he’d meant he reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it still a few inches away from the chain. She turned to look at him, a combination of shock and puzzlement on her face as he hastily shook his head.

"Okay," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Taking a deep breath, Paul ran his hand over his face and shook his head at her. “S’okay.” Were the only words he could manage to rasp out. His eyes bored into her as he desperately tried to make her understand he wasn’t angry at her.

"I'll uh... You start getting dressed and I'll grab the bag from the hospital."

“Bag?” He half spoke, half mouthed at her, his brow creasing in puzzlement.

"The one with the bandages."

He shook his head, waving his hands. “I can-“ his voice broke and she smiled.

“Paul, it’s fine, let me...”

He once more shook his head.

“Baby...”

At that his fist slammed on the nightstand and making her jump.

Her breath was shaky and her lip quivered, her eyes instantly watering. He knew for a fact he'd scared Y/N for he'd never reacted like that in any situation with her.

Backing away from him, she held her hands up defensively and shrugged, "Okay, I'll just go get it for you."

As he recalled the memory, his head hung in disgrace, much the same as it had that evening when she’d left the room, tears in her eyes. He hadn’t meant to push her away like he had, but since that first time he’d continued to do so. And the more he did, the harder it was to stop. And she took it, never biting back or losing her patience. She accepted the fact that he showed her less affection, took everything he threw at her and then some, because she loved him. And damned it, he loved her, he loved her so fucking much it truly, physically hurt. And the thought that he was hurting her because of his inability to sort the jumbled mess in his head was killing him.

Taking a deep breath, he set out on the task he'd started. A shave and a shower. The vibration of the trimmers hummed against his cheeks and neck, trimming away the longer hairs, creating a stubble he then fully removed with his cream and razor. Then, he showered, taking his time, losing himself in his thoughts and playing back the last month in his mind. It was no walk in the park and a frustration and anger bubbled just beneath the surface, it was like he'd recognized he wasn't the same. And was fighting a never ending battle with himself to pull out of the darkness that had overcome him so he could let her light shine in. Fuck it, he needed to do it. He needed to rip the proverbial fucking band aid off and own up to his shit. Because losing her, that was absolutely not an option.

But how? Would she be willing? After all he'd put her through. He was still scared, and he knew his own limits were still there. But they had to start connecting or he was going to lose her. He felt it.

Towelling off, he disposed of his laundry in the dirty hamper and wrapped his towel around him. He looked in the mirror and again wiped off the condensation. He nodded at his reflection. Now he looked like Diskant. HER Disco. He smiled a little to himself and left the bathroom, feeling a lot different than when he'd entered.

When she wasn't in their room, he dressed in jeans and a tee, flip flops on his feet and headed down their small hall. He saw her tucked into the couch, a slouched long sleeve over her taught frame, denim shorts on those hips and legs that made his mouth dry. He could see the smoothness of them and his fingers tingle to touch them. Deep red painted toes balanced on the edge of the coffee table as she read the book she'd started recently.

He sat down next to her, garnering her attention. She looked at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. Those eyes that make him weak. Make him purr and melt and feel like he can conquer the world all at once. Those eyes that make him feel like a man above himself.

At the risk of losing his voice entirely, he began with, "I feel cooped up and it's driving me crazy. Can we go somewhere?"

A smile so genuine spread across her lips that it twisted his gut and sped up his heart. "Yeah, okay. Any idea where?"

He shook his head, "I just want to go. I want us to get out of here." He made sure emphasize the us in that reply, even if it didn't sound as so.

"Okay, let's go," she tossed her book on the coffee table and stood, grabbing her bag by the door and slipping into flip flops of her own.

****

You humoured his request, just to go for a drive. And you drove for hours, all over the place. But little did you realize where you'd end up eventually.

It was late in the day and the parking lot was emptying out. You'd pulled into a spot and turned to him, the Ferris wheel and various stands along the pier behind you. His eyes were covered by his own Wayfarers but his smile was soft and sweet.

"I'm kinda hungry, are you hungry?" You said to him, a humorous tone to your voice. Your words echoing ones he'd spoken to you so long ago, words that had become an inside joke between you.

He chuckled lightly, softly and replied with a nod as the two of you exited the car. You waited for him to meet you on your side. The second he joined you, he took your hand in his and together you walked the bike path until the steps up to the pier were accessible.

He stood at the railing, about halfway down, as you ordered two beers, two hot dogs and fries to share. The sun was just at the horizon, painting the sky in watercolour sherbet, and Paul's silhouette stood out against it. He saw you approach and grabbed his dog and beer from you, lightening your load. The two of you shacked up at a table near the games, almost the same table the two of you sat at on your first date.

“You know, I was suckered into a first date here? Guy was a total swindler, stalker too."

He swallowed his bite of food and washed it down with beer before he smiled and rasply said, "you were willing to go with me. I didn't sucker you."

“You totally trapped me.”

"You needed help, I offered," he pointed to himself, then to you and smiled, "willing participant."

"However you spin it so you can sleep at night," you sighed. "I'm just glad I fell for it."

Paul nodded, "me too." He perched his sunglasses on top of his head. "I love you, so much." He took your beer from your hand and set it on the table top, whilst pulling both of your hands into his.

You couldn't hide the obvious hitch in your chest at the outward affection. The lump in your throat hurt to swallow as your eyes welled up. "I know, I love you, too. More than anything." You fought the emotion in your words, the way they were starting to make your voice quiver.

He sighed at your emotion and shook a deep breath. “This isn't easy." He stalled, allowing his voice rest a second in order to keep trying to get his words out. "I'm not easy." He paused again. "I’m sorry.”

"It's okay," you shook your head.

"It's not." His voice was starting to give way again and you saw the frustration on his face.

“Hey...” you squeezed his hand, “I’d rather you did take it out in me than bottle it all up. I don’t like it when you don’t tell me how you’re feeling.” It broke you to watch him struggle, each and every day it broke you. And you were at the end of your rope, frayed and tired of keeping it together. You sighed. “Just take your time. I’m not going anywhere. Text me for Christ's sake!”

He chortled a bit and shook his head, "it's not the same." He brought your hands to his lips and you closed your eyes at the feeling it gave you.

You shook your head, if he wasn't going to make the first move then you needed to try. "Do you trust me?"

He frowned and nodded. “Always.”

Without words, you leaned forward, scooting yourself onto the edge of his seat bench and leaned the forearm to your left arm against his right shoulder. Your fingers scratching behind his ear. Gently you brought your right hand up his chest, slowly, delicately, over his shoulder and he flinched away from you. "Paul, please," you whispered. You could see the way his body started to shake, his breathing laboured. "It's just me, baby."

The closer your fingers got, the more his hands twitched to pull you away. You didn't know for certain what was going on on the inside, but you had a pretty good idea. On the outside, his eyes shone back at you with fear as he tried to just breathe. Then your fingertips brushed the raised pink skin that just peeked over the edge of his tee…

The pads of her fingers felt like red, hot needles the way his skin was reacting. But that was nothing compared to what was firing in his brain.

He clenched his teeth together, tried to keep his breathing calm and regular as those gentle fingers that could make him purr and sing moved delicately over the raised edges of his scar, her eyes never once leaving his. Quickly, the feeling of red hot needles dissipated and he felt nothing but a relief that washed over him from his scar to his toes. He could just feel her and that was monumental.

A deep, shaky breath rumbled his chest as he painfully swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing it all twitched under her touch. It felt the same. Nothing had changed, that familiar tingle he usually felt at her touch sparked something deep inside. The involuntary little shudder he always emitted when she hit that little sweet spot, shot up and down his spine and he felt his lips curl up on a smile as his girl beamed at him.

“See.” She whispered.

“How...” his voice croaked and the words died as he took a deep breath, giving himself a moment. “How did you know that was...” another pause before he shook his head, gesturing to his mouth.

“Because, Paul Christopher Diskant, I know you inside out.” She delicately touched him still, her nails just at that spot that made him quiver. "This doesn't change anything. Not now, not ever."

He let out a strained sob, pulling her close, his lips harshly on hers.

“Tell me about it, Stud.” She smiled against his lips.

"Let's go home," he managed before his voice cut out again.

“Is that an order or a request?” She teased.

He grinned and popped a shoulder in response.

The drive from Santa Monica to home was the most comfortable you'd been in weeks, and you could tell Paul was too. As you drove, he couldn't stop smiling, like this weight had been lifted and the fog between you cleared. His eyes didn't leave your profile, his fingers entwined between yours, never letting go.

****

His hand never left yours as you walked the short path from the garage to your little one bedroom shack, even single-handed unlocking and opening the door. You couldn't even step through the threshold before his lips were on yours, soft and slow, gentle, his tongue gliding through the opening you gave him. A kiss so deep you were sure the two of you were ethereally floating. You tossed your bag on the couch as you passed it by, toeing off your sandals as Paul gently tugged on your hand, an instruction to follow him.

Down the narrow hall you went, directly to your bedroom tucked off in the right corner at the end of it. Again, his lips are on yours and if you didn't know any better, you'd detected a slight tremble in his touch as his hands came to hold your face close to his. Your hands rested against his chest as he kissed you breathless. There was no rush or desperation behind his kiss, if anything a wanton need crept through the both of you but you weren't going to push him, no. You knew Paul needed to set the pace, for whilst you could read him like a book, this terrain was new and navigating his new emotions and fears needed to be on his time and terms.

You were just happy he was touching you again, allowing you to touch him. You missed him, missed the way the two of you were. This had by far been the longest the two of you had been intimately separated since your beginning.

His hands left your cheeks and gently gripped at the bottom of your top. You stepped back a little, raising your arms so he could pull it straight over your head. You watched his eyes soften as he looked at you, almost like he was seeing you for the first time again. You reached for the hem of his own shirt, but he took a half step back, freezing you.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered, “if you’re not ready, leave it on or... it can wait, we can wait.”

He swallowed hard and quickly his hand gripped the back of his collar, pulling the tee over his head. You took care to keep your eyes locked on his, knowing exactly what was making him nervous- his scars. As his eyes searched yours, your face broke into a smile and then he was back on you, his hands on your hips, pulling you close as his mouth claimed yours. His hands felt warm on your skin as they travelled up your sides, only letting go to move to your jaw and neck. His thumbs across your cheek, his fingers splayed around your neck and into your hair.

He kissed you with all tongue, his lips massaging against yours as he changed the position of his head, tilting it the opposite way. And for a moment he pulled away, his hands still on you, the burn of his eyes lustfully blown as they bore into yours. Then, he moved in on you again, his nose bumping against yours as his thick, flat tongue filled your mouth fully, yours submitting against it, allowing him to devour you. It was as if he was opening up your soul, tasting feeling and seeing every colour of the rainbow. You felt as if your body was going to explode with the feeling sheer desire and love flooding hours state, but above it all, happiness that he was kissing you like this again.

It left you breathless and wanting more. You actively fought the urge to rip his belt buckle open and shove his jeans down, trying hard to leave him to set the pace. But, as always, he could read you like the pages of a well-worn novel and that maddeningly smug, cheeky school-boy grin crossed his face. It twisted your insides and made your skin tingle.

His fingers wound through your hair as he backed you towards the mattress. As the crook of your knees hit the side of the bed, he kissed you again, his fingers moving to the button of your denim shorts. Your mind was excited, your body fully responding to his touch, his movements. You’d missed this. His fingertips touched your tummy and you shivered, the denim quickly falling away as you fell onto the mattress.

You watched as he undid his button and flies, the zipper echoing in the stillness of your room, bouncing off the exposed brick and vibrating in your ears. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his denims, strong thighs, arms and taught abs flexing as he crawled over you, his hands planting either side of your head. The muscles of his shoulders twitched as he lowered himself over you, his lips claiming yours in a slow dance, his tongue leisurely tangling with yours, a soft sigh escaping him.

You continued to resist the urge to touch him where you have always shown him you're there with him, that part of him that makes him sing and shiver. That spot that only you know of that makes him melt against you, submit to his lust and desires for you. Instead, as his tongue felt every part of yours, his hands caging himself over you, you tilted your hips, your hands grazing the underside of his biceps, curling around the raised skin of his tattoos. At the feel of your pelvis bumping his, he gave a little grunt, breaking the kiss, his forehead pressing to yours as he returned the gesture, his own grinding into yours, the hardness of his arousal unmistakable through his boxer briefs as it brushed against the thin cotton and lace of your panties. His words hit your ears, "need you, Sugar, so bad." You practically purred as you heard your nickname clearly and for the first time in weeks, not strangled by pain, or muted by frustration. His voice was his own once again and it caused a sting in your eyes. Your hands moved along his torso, from his ribs down to his hips, the waistband of his boxers bent by your fingertips. All whilst his lips moved over your jaw, behind your ear where you gasped before he moved down your neck, nestling soft kisses against the tops of your breasts. “You got me, Stud. Always.” At that, he crashed his lips to yours in an attempt to hide the sob you could faintly feel against your own lips.

Your hands gently cupped his jaw, holding his face to yours as the kiss grew desperate, his hips rolling into yours again. Suddenly, he moved back, kneeling between your legs as his hands hooked into the waistband of your panties. “Off.” His voice was raspy once more as he issued the instruction, yet the undercurrent of desire was unmistakable. Obliging to his instruction, you raised your hips off the bed and allowed him to pull them down, his body shuffling along the bed as he glided the garment down over your legs. His heavy hands caressed up your thighs, his thumbs drawing circles over your skin. God, did your skin burn in delight at his touch, you had to wonder and think if he felt the same. There was no denying he did, or you wouldn't be here, you'd still be at the pier, figuring out how to navigate his feelings, his fears. His body led over you, your sex and his barely touching, but yet twitching and pulsing with deep desires of need. His hand pulled down the cup of your bra, his mouth taking gentle nips against your breast as his mouth moved to your nipple, where he gently rolled it between his lips before his tongue swirled the sensitive nub. Your back arched in pleasure, one hand twisting in his hair, the other fisting in the sheets besides you. His free hand slipping behind your back to expertly unclasp your bra, allowing it to loosen around your arms. "Paul...." you moaned. His free hand reached for yours that was fisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers apart and taking your palm against his, entwining your fingers. You were more than ready for him. Like he needed you, you just needed him too. It took one rock, one hip thrust and he slid right inside. "Oh fuck," you both let out, his a good rasp and yours a whimper. It felt so good, beyond good, the way he filled you, stretched you. You wasted no time in flicking your hips up towards his as he thrust down. Your insides fluttered as you joined together each time. God, did it feel... so... fucking... good. Again and again he rocked into you, his movements needy but not harsh, as a desperate need filled you both. You lightly nudged him with a knee and together you rolled, him to his back and you over his hips, still with him settled inside you. Tossing your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes, you rocked against him whilst he reached up and held your bouncing breasts in his hands, a gentle tweak of each nipple. The sensation sent ripples to your middle, warmth pooling at your core and you gave a soft moan of delight before you bent forward, your lips on his. The kiss was sloppy, his hips still rocking up into you as your pelvis rolled against his. You were close, you knew he could feel you twitching around him. Your lips were covering his as you slowly bounced and rocked on top of him, a pressure to your clit that was blissfully crippling.

In a sudden exertion of strength, Paul sat up and his arms wrapped around your back, holding you close to his chest, his lips moving over your collar bone and down your sternum. He was as deep inside you as he could go, bottoming out as the angle changed and he was clearly hitting a new spot that erupted your insides like a volcano. Your body shook as your orgasm boiled at its peak, with each jut of his hips against you. With one hand around you, the other moving hair away from your eyes and keeping it back by his fingers, his nose rubbed against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he brought your lips to his. You were going to come and it was going to be absolutely amazing. Deepening your kiss, your fingers scratched at the back of his neck, just at the nape of his hairline and you started to feel him quiver. There he was, right there, like always. Your lips broke free from his and nipped at his strong jaw before kissing at the joint where it met his ear. You were careful now, despite the throws of your own orgasm starting to crash around you, to weigh your moves with precise care as you gently, delicately kissed down his neck. Your lips hit that pinkish-red raised mark and your world exploded. The blood surged to your ears, deafening you as you came, hard. Your eyes fluttered closed but the noise he made broke through clear as day, and they flew open again. Those beautiful blues were locked into your gaze as his broken whimper of your name blew into a loud groan as he clung to you, his hips stilling, his eyes fluttering shut. His noise died down, catching in his throat, his chest heaving as you felt him twitch inside of you, the after-throws of both your orgasms pulsing together. Tenderly, your hands slid up to cup his face as you kissed him softly, feeling him sag a little, and you gently pushed on his chest. You didn’t want him to release his hold but you knew he was going to be exhausted. He didn’t take much persuasion, his body boneless as he sank onto the soft mattress behind him. You went with him, your head tucking under his chin as the pair of you recovered, the only sound in the room the dying pants as you both eagerly drew breath.

His hand slipped into your hair, cradling the back of your head as you shifted and pressed your lips to his jaw.

“You okay?” You asked.

He nodded, swallowing hard as his other arm ran up and down your spine, fingers gently tracing a path along your still touch sensitive body. His lips pressed to the crown of your head.

When you'd regained the feeling of life back into to your body, you sat up, rolling off of Paul's hips, garnering a look of confusion from him. He loved when you would keep him inside you, and continue to feel the warmth of one another's bodies. You smiled softly at him, sleepily. You saw the look on his face, the look of contentment but of need and seeking comfort. It was a look you'd come to memorize as his 'I'm tired' look. Soft features, heavy eyes. Blissed out from love making or not, Paul was exhausted and you read every hint of it you memorized over the years.

"C'mere," you now rasped, your voice rattled by emotion and dry from moaning.

His lazy smirk crossed his lips and he knew that tone. He knew what was coming next. He rolled to his left and pressed his lips to yours gently before laying his head on your chest. You traced your first two fingers gently up and down his neck, along his shoulder and back up, a repeated pattern you only you had the map to.

A combination of a contented sigh with a little hum left his throat as his weight over you grew heavier, like the comfort of a weighted blanket. You blinked back the tears, because although you'd heard it time and time again, right then, it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever made.

**** Part 5

#rock n roll people in a disco world #paul diskant x reader #paul diskant x you #Paul Diskant #paul diskant fan fiction #chris evans #chris evans characters #street kings fan fic

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