#it's such a perfect opposite of the fridging trope where a man is like

[lastflowerofyourhouse]

i think sometimes about how, when he's listing the people that cytherea has hurt, he doesn't even mention himself.

she has hurt him. she's put him through hell these past weeks. she killed one of the people he loved most in the world. but he's not angry on his own behalf, oh, no.

most personally, this is for Dulcinea Septimus.

imagine you are palamedes sextus. you spend twelve years exchanging letters with a woman who is seven years your senior. you become the heir to your house just to meet her as an equal. you love her to the point of invention. you both know that her time spent alive has an expiration date sooner than most, and so one day you decide to propose to her - even though you know that she can spend the rest of her life with you but you can’t with her, even though there are imperial rules forbidding interhouse marriages between necromancers, even though you’re here and she’s there and you’ve never even met in person - but you want her to spend her days with someone who cares about her. but you’re so young, only nineteen, and there are still all of those reasons listed above, and so she turns you down. but it isn’t because she doesn’t want to say yes. and then over the next year the letters come fewer and farther apart. and then you’re both invited to the emperor’s house - both of you, together, physically in the same place for the first time - and you show up and she’s here. and it’s like she doesn’t know you. she doesn’t spare you a glance. and you’re still so tender with her - you can’t help it, there’s care baked into you, and you can’t resist helping her, loving her, going so far as to kiss her knuckles in front of company - but still. she doesn’t acknowledge anything that happened between you. she’s moved on. she must have, because she’s spending all this time with the cavalier from the ninth - who is, by the way, two years younger than you, and that doesn’t escape your notice because nothing does - and what can you do? what are you supposed to do?

you tell your cavalier that you’re glad she’s spending time with someone who makes her laugh.

[myherowritings]

ok this might sound like a dumb request but i thought it would be funny so reader is married to bakugou and you go to his agency and the new receptionist is mean to you and bakugou goes up to the receptionist and they are like “what a bitch” and bakugou just goes “that was my wife”

pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x female!reader

author’s note: give me pro hero bakugou or give me death. lolol. thank you for the request! it wasn’t dumb at all, i found it hilarious and fun to write. ^-^ plus, PRO HERO BAKUGOU. what more can one need? xx sofia

[coming up next: secretary/manager!reader request bc that trope owns me]

“Don’t tell me that idiot forgot his lunch again…”

Grumbling under your breath, you sighed as you spotted his red bento box sitting in the refrigerator. It was right next to his favorite water bottle with a sticky note in your handwriting that read, ‘DON’T FORGET YOUR LUNCH, BAKA xoxo’.

And yet, there it was. Neglected in the fridge.

You realized maybe you should’ve placed the sticky note on the door so he could see it before leaving, but hindsight was 20/20 after all.

It wasn’t that Katsuki was forgetful, per se– In fact, he was the exact opposite of that. He was observant and attentive, even when he tried to appear like he wasn’t. But with the recent developments in his hero agency as well as an unusual spike of crime in the Shibuya ward, his hands have been quite full lately.

You noticed he came home later looking more tired than usual, but the determined spark in his eyes never wavered. That was something you had always admired about him.

What you didn’t so much admire, however, was when Bakugou let his motivation to be the best take the driver’s seat while his sleep and wellbeing got shoved in the trunk.

“How are you supposed to save the world and be the Number One Hero if you don’t fucking feed yourself?” you scolded, even though he was at work and couldn’t hear you.

Today, you took a very rare and much needed day off from work because–unlike your husband–you knew it was okay to take a break if you really needed it. And while you planned to stay home and finish reading your current book, you supposed you could take a break from relaxing and deliver Katsuki his lunch.

In record time, you changed out of your pajamas and grabbed the bento box from the refrigerator, making sure you grabbed your house keys before leaving to catch the train.

You sighed, resting your head against the window of the crowded train. “The things I do for this man.”

Okay– You didn’t exactly need to bring his lunch to him. You very well knew Bakugou was capable of running to the convenience store and grabbing a somewhat filling meal, but they weren’t made with love. This one was.

Besides, you enjoyed visiting him at the agency. It was nice to see him in his element, and you got along with all of the staff. Especially that one receptionist of his! She was a lovely older lady who always had the best sweets to give.

But when you stepped foot inside his office, bento box and water bottle in hand, she was nowhere in sight.

Instead, you saw a much younger woman typing away at the monitor.

“Hi, there!” you greeted, a warm smile on your face as you peered at her name badge. Hayashi. “Did Sugiyama-san take the day off?”

She barely spared you a glance. “Sugiyama-san no longer works here. Are you lost or something?”

You let out a forced laughter. “No, I’m just looking for Katsuki– Ground Zero.”

The clicking sound of the keyboard stopped and Hayashi turned her attention to you, eyeing you up and down with what seemed like a disdainful look on her face. You blinked.

“Ground Zero isn’t doing any fan signings right now, sweetheart.”

Bristling at her condescending tone, the smile on your face slowly slipped. “Actually, sweetheart, I’m here to bring Kacchan his lunch.”

Hayashi narrowed her eyes. “We don’t accept food as fanmail, but you can always try the dumpster in the alleyway.”

“Excuse me?” you said, voice raised in a sharp tone. If this was Katsuki’s new receptionist, you were going to have to ask him who the fuck would give her the job. “This isn’t fanmail, this is his lunch which he forgot at our home! And even if it was fanmail, you have no right to be so rude to those who look up to Ground Zero and view him as–”

“I’m a little too busy for a lecture right now, miss,” she interrupted with a fake smile, turning back to her screen. “But you can put whatever you have to say in a letter.”

“Keep talking and I’ll put something up your–”

“What’s going on here?”

You froze at his voice, slowly turning your head to face a stern-looking Bakugou with his arms folded over his chest. The glare on his face directed towards his receptionist was so scalding, even you were sympathetic for her.

“Hi, honey,” you greeted with a smile, his gaze softening when his eyes met yours. “You forgot your–”

“Ground Zero!” Hayashi cut you off with a gasp, not seeming to realize the deep pile of shit she was already in. “I’m so glad you’re here!”

The wrinkle between Bakugou’s brow reappeared as he scowled at her. “What do you want?”

Not noticing his menacing look, she pointed her index finger at you and continued, “This lady stormed in here and starting making outrageous claims and threatening me! Can you believe that? What a bitch.”

Katsuki blinked.

You gaped. Not so much at her uncalled for words, but her unprofessionalism. Who would use that terminology in front of their boss?

“This lady you’re calling a bitch?” His eyes narrowed into slits. “She’s my wife.”

There was a moment of silence where the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Bakugou was so angry you could hear the popping noises sounding from his forearms, and Hayashi’s face was a sickly pale when she realized the gravity of her words.

“Now, would you like to repeat what you just said, Hayashi?” he asked, voice low and biting.

She shook her head meekly. “N-No, Ground Zero, s-sir.”

“That’s what I thought.” With one final glower in her direction, Bakugou walked over to you, placing his warm hands on your upper arms and holding you close. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, greeting him with a quick peck on the cheek as you felt him begin to calm down. To ease the tension, you gave him a smile, holding up a neatly wrapped bento box in a red furoshiki. “You forgot your lunch again.”

With a short exhale of laughter, he accepted the food with a shake of his head.

“You have to make sure you’re eating well,” you scolded, patting his cheek gently. “If you keep forgetting your food, I’m going to start to think you’re doing it on purpose so I visit you more often.”

“I would never.”

“Sure, you wouldn’t.”

He rolled his eyes, but his annoyed look didn’t seem as genuine when there was a smile threatening to form on his face. “Want to head up to my office for lunch? I can call off work early and we can go home after.”

You beamed, lighting up at the idea of Katsuki taking a much needed break from work, even if just for a few hours. “Sounds perfect.”

As you intertwined your fingers with his and walked out of the foyer, Bakugou turned around and called for his receptionist.

“Oh– Right. Hayashi?”

She bolted upright, smoothing her hair down with a cautious look. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re fired.”

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.5

A scream shocks you out of your fuzzy thoughts. You look around and notice Connor sitting alert and looking like he wants to run down the hallway this very instant.

“Connor?” the head snaps to you immediately and before you can even question his presence in your home he jumps up and barks then walks in circles near the door.

Great a dog who has no sense of horror movie tropes. Since the scream did come from inside your house you should go find the person who made it and see what's wrong. Also maybe get clarification on why they're in your home. You aren't dead and are still in the same clothes so you figure you're alright around them. You follow Connor to where Toby is, in your kitchen staring out the window standing at a very odd angle. Like he caught himself before he fell backwards but hadn't bothered to get up.

“What's up....oh.” is all you can say as you see Chonk's head whip towards you and Connor before he books it for the tree line. Damn that fat raccoon can run fast, good to know if he ever wants to chase you down in the future. Which he might if you don't leave his slice of pizza out today.

“'oh' 'oh', that's all yo-you've got to say about a giant fuck-ing ra-mrrow- raccoon!?!” maybe thinking this guy was composed and unphased was a misconception, if seeing Chonk has put his world views in question.

“I mean he probably just eats a lot of pizza.” to put it simply you never gave much thought to the fat little trash thief, he was just fat and he existed. Visiting your home for the slice he deemed his every other week. Probably had other homes in Kepler he terrorized for the same reasons. God knows Leo would never put up with a raccoon trashing his store for his pizza. Or even his home for that matter.

“He's nearly half the size of Connor!” looking down towards Connor you tilt your head.

“Are we talking about with his legs or just his torso?” you could maybe see the size comparison with the dog's body but with his height it was a different matter all together.

Toby rolls his eyes before going and sitting down at the small breakfast table where he seemed to have found your fidget cube and had been well fidgeting with it. You take the seat opposite of him, it's weird having a guest over especially when you didn't invite them in. Well now that removes the chances of him being a vampire you suppose.

Perfect not a kidnapper, nor a vampire, and he's helped you out twice now. The two of you might well be on your way to becoming best friends. That is if he could get past this episode of yours.

“I still don't know what happened last night, but I'm done with the freak out.” you say as you idly pet Connor.

“...What?” he's squinting at you trying to get a read on how anyone bounces back from something like that so calmly in a matter of hours. Especially when he'd been checking up on you and Connor only to see you still staring off into space.

“Oh, uh... I have Autism. Isn't good for much but helps me rationalize events quicker and move past emotional and mental breakdowns pretty quick too.”

“Is that an Autism thing?” you shrug at his question as he jerks his shoulders forwards a few times.

“Probably more of a me thing, but I've read the trait tends to be more common in those of us who are neurodivergent.”

You hear a murmur of telling someone later later. Filing that away to take note of another day you stare at Toby who in turn stares back. This goes on for a bit, you couldn't even classify it as a staring contest since you are both still blinking occasionally. You aren't really sure if you should say 'thank you' first and then ask the man what he's doing in your home or wait for him to break the silence. But as you stare at Toby, into his eyes, you get the feeling this man is more of a zombie than anything else. The type to drag along and go at a snails pace rather than get into the messy bits in one go...ironic choice for comparison.

“Thank you for driving me home...but why are you still here?” you hear a huff of laughter?

“You weren't really in a position...” knuckles pop “to be left alone. What if you got back into your car again?” his eyes cut and there's a bit of bite to his words...it wasn't directed towards you, you can feel that much.

“Fair enough.” you glance at the stove and see the clock shine a little before six. “Would you like some breakfast” his neck snaps to the left triggering your own to snap as well, “or a ride home?” you finish asking.

“Can you make something for Connor too? Don't trust you behind the wheel yet.”

“Oh sure! What does he normally eat?” Perking up at the thought of the dog being off duty, that means actual pets!

“He-mrrow- normally gets oatmeal with some fruit or veg and anything raw I can find.” He finishes with a whistle for Connor's attention, and then a pointed finger flipping down in front of him. The dog trots over and sits down, while Toby takes off the vest you look through your cupboards to find the rolled oats you'd gotten as incentive to eat in the mornings before realizing you only liked them on certain days.

“So what does Tobias normally eat?” you call out as you look for some honey you know you threw in the cupboards.

“Anything really. I don't do slimy textures or anything watery.”

“Watery? Like soups?” Found a can of pumpkin, it's still in date too, perfect.

“Watery like...when you put too much water in oatmeal.” He nods when you silently show him the can of pumpkin asking if that'd be fine for his boy, who is sitting down drooling from his smiling face as Toby tussles his ears.

“Ahhh, thin watery got it.” You hear movement and a few grunts from Toby as you assume he tics, trying to ignore them so they won't trigger your own you look through the fridge. You suddenly take a deep breath, while looking for a meat in your fridge, and let out a shrill trill. Kinda sounds like a Togepi's cry from the cartoon. Shaking your head your eyes catch the eggs and turkey sausages you have.

“Will turkey sausage and eggs work for you two?”

“Never had turkey sausage but it should be fine.” he's leaning forward resting his head in his arms on the table as Connor lays by his bouncing feet.

You set the eye to medium heat and put the sausages on first, leaving three out for Connor. He is a big dog after all. You turned your focus on preparing Connor's oatmeal while the sausages cooked. It was kinda nice having company over even though the circumstances weren't the best. Your neck jerks to the side three times before pulling back. There's more on the way your neck didn't crack and your body doesn't let up until it does.

“So what disorder do you have?” You turn to give Toby a confused look you hope he can read through your mask.

“...I have a few..you want the list?”

“No, the tics. Lower level Tourettes or what?”

“Oh, they stem from my” head jerking twice to the side before cracking “there we go.” “Sorry, they stem from my Autism, at least that's the best I can gather without seeing a specialist. Virginia doctors suck big time.”

“Tell me about it.” that perks you right up, you knew you caught a transatlantic accent, it's pretty much the lack of an accent that gives Virginians away so easily. You already have two guesses on where Toby came from.

“I knew it, you're from Halifax aren't you?!” Since you've turned around to face him you see the exact moment his face drops. Eyes shocked wide open.

“How...did”

“Oh it's easy once you know what to listen for, in fact it was the total lack of any distinguishing accent or use of slang that gave you a way. A lot of people don't notice what they take from their communities linguistically speaking. And for us Virginians it's what we don't take. It's such a bland neutral midpoint it's why it had been so coveted during the radio era and while we might've lost the in-fluctuations as time went by, no longer needing them for our voices to be heard over various frequencies....am I talking too much you can tell me to shut up, really you won't hurt my feelings.” you give Toby a minute to process everything you've just said.

“Special interest?”

“mmm, more a...an interesting factoid.” you hope he registers your smile, hell you hope he doesn't think you're weird. You know how much you can be sometimes, especially when you info dump or overshare information. He manages to nod along with you before finding his voice again.

“Lemme guess NOVA?”

“Pfft, seriously.” you really need him to at least register the disgust on your face if he hasn't been able to read you before, “Listen the Beach isn't much better but I'd probably off myself if I was from NOVA.”

“A public service really.”

You both stare at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter. It's nothing huge but it does seem to put Toby more at ease you noticed. In the time it took you to make breakfast for all three of you you've found out a little bit more about Toby.

He's uncomfortable talking about his hometown, at least you assume, so instead he mentions that he recently came to town with his friends, Brian and Tim. Talks mostly about Connor and you learn he's to help alert Toby of his Tourettes when driving and he can even detect seizures with Brian. That's amazing, service dogs have sure come a long way! And you love hearing what a silly puppy Connor is off duty, it makes you smile. Toby in turn asks about you, and you are such a well of stories. You tell him about your family back on the coast, about your recent move to Kepler, give him a little info on Kepler to help him adjust to his stay, and even get on the topic of your extensive work with animals.

“Sounds like you were working towards being a trainer, why didn't you?”

Making a sound that sort of sounds like a jumbled 'I dunno', “Sort of don't like people that much. Dogs are fine, less complex and less likely to complain when you do something in a different way. But a trainer doesn't train the dog, they train the people.” You're placing Connor's food in front of him as he sits patiently.

It's quiet for a moment as you place a plate in front of Toby and set yours down as well. Not tense just quiet, it's very calming really. Until Toby ruins it.

“Thanks Connor.”

Like he's a voice actor who is over exaggerating the sound effects of a dog munching away at their bowl. Connor inhales harshly before diving head first into the bowl. The dog is ferociously tearing into his breakfast and you can't help the laughter that spills from you at his enthusiasm. Hands coming up near your face and shaking as you shift from foot to foot. It's a happy stim, cute dogs are of course a trigger, someone can complain later you're happy to see a happy excited pup any day.

Taking your seat and turning your attention to your food, you see Toby hasn't touched his own. He's staring at the plate with a furrowed brow, he glances up to you as you remove your mask. You feel a bit vulnerable to be honest.

“Oh is something wrong? Do you want something else?”  He's a guest who's helped you twice now the least you can do is make sure he leaves your home full.

It takes a moment but he gathers his thoughts to explain, “I have a scar...it's pretty bad.” he looks away from you.

You tilt your head not quiet understanding what he means, “Cool story, do you want me to look away?”

He stalls at this, you just keep throwing him for a loop since you met the other day. While he thinks on it you scoop some of your eggs on your spoon and into your mouth. Perfect texture and prefect flavor, today will be good.

Toby seems to have made his decision and without any show he takes his mask off to begin eating. You can see the scar he was talking about, and while the currently red and bleeding'?!' scar on the left corner of his mouth was bad it wasn't much compared to the gaping hole further up that side on his cheek. You can clearly see the even whiter, how this boy is so pale is beyond you, skin around the edges suggesting the wound was older and had started to heal at some point. But you could see most of the teeth on the left side of his mouth. You've never seen these teeth while they were still in the head. A skull or 3D model yea. But never a living breathing person's head. It's fascinating really, you hadn't even noticed that you finished your breakfast as you watched him eat, you were so enthralled.

“You know your lip's bleeding right?” eyes never leaving the boy's teeth as you see them grind down the eggs into the tiniest particles. Neat!

“Rwhatf?” the way he can talk with his mouth full without spilling it from the hole is fucking magic and you won't hear another word on it.

He takes a drink of water, again it doesn't spill. Then you notice the slight tilt of his head...oh he's had practice doing this. Impressive honestly.

“That's what you choose to comment on?” his eyes narrow at you're still gawking form.

“I'm sorry I've just never seen those type of teeth still in head, normally muscle and...and skin cover them. So this is really cool to see them in action!” gosh you're so damn weird. By his stupefied expression Toby seems to think so too.

“Plus the wound looks healed but the lips look fresh,” you get up and grab a few paper towels bringing them over to offer to Toby, “Not to mention it's bleeding and you haven't once wiped it.”

He doesn't reply as he takes the napkins from you and dabs at his scarred lip, looking back and seeing blood just as you said. He was right when he thought he'd been biting himself a few hours ago. He'd totally forgotten to check after getting you home.

“Well I don't feel it so I didn't know actually.” he just resumes eating as if this conversation didn't happen.

“Didn't, didn't, didn't” you get stuck in a loop for a bit before breaking out “you didn't feel it? What do you have congenital insensitivity to pain?” you ask incredulously.

“I haven't heard it called that since I got diagnosed.” still eating he looks at you through his long eyelashes.

This dude could not be a real person. You had to have been imagining your dream friend. Everything you learned about Toby was more interesting than the last...at least for you it was.

“Medical history podcasts are interesting.” you shrug, “should I get the first aid kit?” at his shrug you get up and go to your bathroom to retrieve the kit.

Coming back into the kitchen you catch Toby lowering your plates for Connor to lick clean. You don't see a problem with it but you will wash everything twice since the pup has slobbered on nearly everything anyway. When you don't say anything he lets Connor continue before placing the dishes in your sink.

“Such a big help” you say patting Connor's head as you pass him, “Yea I really am” Toby says as he sits back down. Propping his arm up on the table to rest his head on his knuckles, it was such a fluid and casual motion. As if he's sat at this table everyday of his life, like this was his home and you were his guest. Tied in with how comfy he is man spreading at your kitchen table you'd say he made himself at home just fine.

You smile and scoot your chair next to him first aid kit in between you on the table. Toby looks between you and the kit before leaning in closer for you to work. Grabbing the antiseptic cleaning towels you go to wipe Toby's lip when he flinches away. Probably faking to see your reaction.

“Oh, fuck off you have CIPA.” you laugh grabbing his chin to keep him in place. He rolls his eyes “And you're weird.” The vibrations feel weird against your fingers.

“I know.” you continue cleaning the small bite mark? Well he does have CIPA he wouldn't be able to feel the pain if he was gnawing at his lips. Would he be able to taste the metallic tang of his blood or were taste buds effected by the disorder too? You might need to do another deep dive on this, it just became relevant. Maybe an anxious tic, judging from the larger wound it could be possible. Wearing a mask must help to hide it but not not to stop it getting worse if no one can call you out on it.

“That wasn't an insult...” he says making you look up into his eyes as you dry the wound, “I know.” You smile down at him, knowing this time he can see it on your maskless face.

When you finished cleaning his wounded lips, you drove Toby and Connor back to their home. Which turned out to be the RV at the forgotten entrance of the forest. Toby had been a little wary you knew where he was talking about but seemed to shake it off just as quick when you mentioned hiking a lot and using that entrance because it was the closest to you.

He had put Connor's vest back on and hopped in the back with him. You noticed from the review that Connor's full attention was on you.

“This set up let's him focus on the driver, so he'll tell us if something will impede your driving.” Well that explains Brian's position the first time you four met.

Nodding you sync you phone with the car's bluetooth and pass it to Toby with spotify open.

“Rules of the road, passenger picks music.” you say simply when he questioned it.

He quickly clicked your last playlist. Probably either too lazy to find something or trying to get a better read on you. Music says a lot about a person even if not everyone thinks that way. And unfortunately for you this playlist screams mental illness and a need for therapy. But you have folk punk. So who needs therapy when you can just scream cry these lyrics.

Toby doesn't comment on it, either just totally apathetic or maybe he likes it. He's a bit of an enigma, he's open and honest for the most part but saves his opinions unless directly asked.

Even after making it to the RV without incident Toby tries to distract you for a bit and tempt you out of the car with the possibility of playing with Connor. As fun as the idea sounds and as much as you don't want to be rude, you're very tired and drained. Probably more from “hanging out” with Toby this morning than your actual episode last night. Plus you understand Toby's just trying to be nice and maybe ensure your safety.

“Could I maybe rain-check? I'm actually really tired.” you say with your most polite smile, though he can't see it through the mask  you know he sees the crinkle of your eyes.

“Sure, just get home safe.” you feel that's less about you, but you aren't sure what the hanging subject is. So cryptic.

“Yup,” you chirp, “See you later Tobias!” as you start to back out back onto the road you hear Toby say “ Later YN.”

Driving off you can't keep the smile off of your face. Toby's a nice guy, you hope you get to spend more time with him. And this time the thought isn't centered around also hanging out with Connor. Just about enjoying Toby's company.

Getting home and locking your door you strip your jeans and flannel, leaving you only in your muscle tee, and curl up in your unkempt sheets. You'll do laundry later, right now was time for a little nap.

[carryonwaywardkansas]

Wouldn’t It Be Nice (Part 5)

Wouldn’t It Be Nice If... We Knew the Truth?

Summary: While waiting for Jared and Jensen to get home from work one night, Auri confesses to Nicole what’s been on her mind. Unknown to her, Jared and Jensen have a similar talk.

Pairing: Jared x Auri

Trope: found family, realized feelings beginning, too stubborn to admit said feelings

Warnings: beer

Word Count: 945

A/N: Chapter 5 is finally here! There’s a small POV switch at the end. Enjoy! @iwantthedean there, are you happy now? lol

Since I was on break from school until April, dinner with Jensen and Nicole became a regular thing. On the Friday two weeks after our first meeting, I had gone over to Jensen and Nicole’s apartment to help her cook dinner. We were sitting on the couch having a small Supernatural marathon while we waited for diner to finish and the guys to get home from work.

Nicole was sitting on the couch opposite me with her legs tucked underneath her, she’d been staring at me for a few minutes now, no doubt having caught on to the odd change in my behavior. I’d been in a strange fog all day and couldn’t explain why. She took a slow sip of her beer and turned to face me.

“Alright, come on, out with it.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been unusually quiet all day, you’ve been acting weird since dinner two weeks ago. Don’t try to say it’s nothing, either. Jack noticed it, too,” she said gently. “What’s up?”

Well, this was certainly a weird turn of events. Had I really gained new friends in Jensen and Nicole after such a short time? Could they really read my moods so easily now as to pinpoint when something was bothering me? The thought left me a bit stunned, if not elated at the idea of having someone besides Jared to depend on when I needed it.

I sighed. “Sorry, Nic. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She frowned.

“What now?”

“In the past two and a half weeks, you’ve only called me Nic twice. Both times was when shit about your breakup with Cameron was bothering you.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m always Kansas and you’re always Texas, it’s why the guys collectively call us KT.”

“Is that why? Jeez, how original.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“And you’re a pain in my ass.”

“What are new best friends for? Now, come on, talk to me.”

I got up and headed for the fridge, grabbed two more beers and sat back down. She was right, something big was weighing me down but I didn’t know how to begin talking about it. I couldn’t talk to Jared about it because he was it. No matter which way I looked at the situation, I ended up as confused at the end of it as I was at the start.

“Nic, I— Jared—” I took a long sip from the fresh beer and wracked my brain for the right words to say.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he? Swear to god, I’ll kick his ass soon as he walks through that door,” she growled, standing from the couch and turning to the front door.

I shook my head, giggling. “No, Nic, sit down. I’m fine, Jared’s perfect as always.”

“Then why do you look like somebody shot your dog in front of you?” she questioned with a tilt of her head, reluctantly joining me on the couch again.

I looked up at her with glossy eyes, unable to fully form the words in my head before they were tumbling from my mouth at a thousand miles a minute. “Nicole, I think I’m in love with Jared.”

She chuckled, sipped at her own beer and settled down again. “Oh, honey, I could’ve told you that.”

+

A snowstorm kept Jared and Jensen late and by the time they’d finally made it home, Nicole and Auri had fallen asleep.

“Thanks again for letting us stay the night, man,” Jared had said as they moved from the door through the hallway and into the living room where the girls were.

“Hey, no thanks needed. You’re family. Besides, there’s no way you’re getting home in that storm and Nic would have my head if I let you take Tex out in that,” Jensen laughed. Together, the two of them cleaned up the mess of dinner plates and beer bottles that were left on the coffee table.

Even in Auri’s sleepy haze, she could feel Jared’s gaze linger on her. He pulled the fleece blanket they’d left behind for nights like this from the back of the couch and laid it over her sleeping form, then softly brushed his hand through her hair.

“Hey, man, when are you going to talk to her?” Jensen asked, lifting Nicole from the couch.

Jared sighed. His hand stilled in Auri’s hair, replaced momentarily by his lips on her forehead. “I don’t know, J. She needs time to get over this whole Cameron thing. Plus, she goes back to school in April. This is the first time I’ve seen her in years, I don’t want to spoil the holidays with a confession that she might not even reciprocate.”

“You’re both stupid, you know that?”

“Thanks, Ackles. Real helpful.”

“No, I’m serious. You love that girl, Jared, and she loves you right back. You’re both just too stubborn and blind to see it. Talk to her, before it’s too late.”

Jared hummed his acknowledgement, letting Jensen’s warning go in one ear and out the other. He had time, didn’t he? Surely five months would be more than enough time to figure out where and how and when, or if he even wanted to pour his heart out to his best friend. For now, he let it go, choosing instead to enjoy the time he’d been given.

“Come on, Pretty Girl, let’s get you to bed.” He gently lifted Auri from the couch and headed down the hall toward the guest room. If time was on his side, he’d know when it was the perfect moment to tell Auri that he’d loved her since the day they’d tumbled from the hay loft in her father’s barn.

[marvels-writings]

Quarantine Madness

Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel) Masterlist

Requested by Anon: Hiii! Because of the current situation literally everywhere, I got this idea of carol x female reader who are both head over heels for eachother but neither admitted it, and they get stuck quarantining together in a ONE bed room penthouse in new york (cuz u know the one bed trope). They fall even more in love there getting to know each other more while feeling tortured by how much they blush and get flustered by literally the tiniest things the other does. Thank u and sorry for my english haha

Word Count: 3,508 (long and worth it)

A/N: Instead of making this into a mini series I just wrote a ginormous oneshot, hope you like it!

“Perfect timing,” you grumbled, Carol flopped down next to you on the couch.

“What?” She asked, offering you a bag of candy she took from the counter. 

“Thanks to COVID 19,” You showed her the phone. “We’re in lockdown for at least a month.” 

Carol read the news and groaned, leaning back onto the couch. You raised an eyebrow at the blonde.

“I can’t be that bad.” You joked, Carol shot up instantly to correct the statement. 

“You’re not, I’d rather not be stuck in one place for a month,” She groaned, you shrugged. 

“We still haven’t explored.” You commented, gesturing to the rest of the enormous penthouse. 

Getting sent on a mission with Carol was already stressful enough as it is. You were already under constant pressure to try to impress her, on top of it, you were with her for a month. Without anyone else to talk to. You doubted the situation could get worse. 

“Good point,” She got off the couch. Dropping the bag of candy on the coffee table and started walking around the huge penthouse.

Most of the furniture was white or a light grey. Everything was modern and comfy. You expected most penthouses to be steel and white, you expected them to be cold. But this felt homey, there were succulents everywhere, paintings, blankets. It felt a little like home.

You walked into the bedroom, Carol followed you in, whistling at the furnishings. It was a simple king size bed, there was a side table on both sides with a succulent and a lamp. A ginormous bathroom was on the right end of the room, the ensuite bathroom on the left.

“I’ll take the other one, you can have the master,” Carol stated, you raised an eyebrow.

“Nope, you take the master bedroom,” You argued, Carol raised an eyebrow and grinned. 

“Race you there,” She winked and raced out. 

You opened your mouth in surprise but followed her out to the large living room. The blonde looked around and spotted a door near the kitchen and ran to it. It was a closet, you frowned and opened the door next to you, it was another bathroom. 

“Guess we’re sharing the master then,” Carol remarked. Closing the closet door after both of you had finished checking every door.

The situation just got worse, a lot worse. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna go change.” You gestured to the bedroom with your thumb. 

She nodded and went to explore the kitchen. After you took your duffel bags from the living room and moved them into the kitchen.  You picked out a casual outfit consisting of a white Calvin Klien sweatshirt and black jeggings. 

Even the bathroom was lavishly furnished, Tony had gone all out on this penthouse for both of you. You went into the shower, turning up the heat to a warmer shower. You washed your hair and towel dried most of it before you realized you didn’t know where the blow drier was. 

You sighed and wrapped a towel around yourself since you didn’t want your sweatshirt to get wet. You opened the door and gasped when you saw Carol lounging on the bed and reading her book. She turned to look at you in surprise. 

“Oh, uh, shit,” She stuttered, trying not to stare. She turned around quickly, closing her eyes shut. Carol couldn’t get you out of her head. You looked surprised but gorgeous in just a towel dress with your wet hair trailing down onto your shoulders.

“Sorry, do you know where the blow drier is?” You asked, she nodded. 

“It’s in here,” She pulled out the blow drier from the wardrobe and hesitated to turn around.

“Carol, I’m not naked,” You chuckled, a blush creeping onto your face. 

She turned around and handed you the blow drier, trying not to let her eyes linger on you. You thanked her and twirled around to go inside.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Carol muttered to herself. 

“Did you say something?” You shouted from inside the bathroom.

“Nope,” The blonde shouted back. Living a month with her crush by herself was going to be harder than she had thought. 

----------------------------

After both of you had showered, you lounged on the couches and watched TV before you realized you were hungry. 

“We need to make something to eat, I’m starving.” You complained, reaching for the remote and pausing the TV show.

“Do you have anything in mind?” Carol asked, seated on the couch as you got up and checked the fridge.

“Well, the fridge is stocked,” You moved some things around in the fridge. “We could try making pasta.”

Carol got up and helped you get the ingredients out. You started boiling the pasta when you noticed it was too quiet. After telling Carol you were going to go look for something, you searched the apartment for a speaker. You found a light grey Bose speaker in the living room and connected it to your phone.

“Any requests?” You asked, showing her the speaker as you came into the kitchen.

“I’ve been trying to catch up on pop music, so we could do that,” She suggested.

“Okay…” You trailed off as you flipped through the playlists on your phone. “Lana del Rey, Dua Lipa, or Billie Eilish?” 

“I don’t know who any of them are,” Carol stated, your eyes widened.

“Well, Lana Del Rey is a classic, let’s start with that then.” you clicked on the playlist with all three artists and many other pop icons. 

Summertime Sadness by Lana Del Rey started playing in the room, you grinned. But you noticed Carol raise an eyebrow at your music choice. 

“This doesn’t count as music.” She gestured to the speaker with her cutting knife. 

You stuck your tongue out at her jokingly and played a remix of the song. The Cedric Gervias remix started playing and Carol’s mood improved instantly.

“Better your highness?” You mocked, Carol glared at you playfully and finished chopping.

You started mixing the veggies with some olive oil and spices in a cast iron pan. Carol sat on the barstool opposite the kitchen, watching you dance and hum softly to the music. You were oblivious to her staring, too absorbed in the music and the food.

Carol continued staring when she saw you weren’t paying attention to her. She noticed the subtle way you danced while cooking, your voice as you sang along to the beat. Your foot tapping to the beat of the music. She was swooning. 

“Wanna help?” You asked, gesturing to the cast iron in front of you. 

The blonde snapped out of her daze and nodded, making her way next to you. You handed her the wooden spatula, oblivious to the way her breath hitched when your fingers brushed hers. She held it awkwardly in her hands, making you laugh.

“You have no idea what to do, do you?” You asked, she shrugged and tried mixing it. A few veggies fell off the edge of the pan, causing you to giggle.

“No need to mock me,” Carol argued, stopping the stirring when more things fell from the pan.

You laughed and moved to stand next to her. You placed your left hand on top of her right hand, noticing the way she tensed at the contact.

“Is this okay?” You asked, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“Ye-Yeah,” She stuttered, nodding as a small piece of short hair fell into her eyes. She blew it out of her face with a puff of air. 

You laughed and guided her hands to mix the pasta without dropping anything. Carol was blushing at the contact, but she faced the pain and tried not to show it. You stole a glance at her while cooking, gauging her reaction while staring at her features. 

“This is good, right?” Carol asked once she got the hang of it. You turned to look back at the pasta and nodded. 

She noticed your flustered expression when she caught you staring. The blonde decided not to overestimate it and continued stirring the veggies. Once you’d drained the pasta, Carol tumbled it in with the rest of the veggies. You helped her stir it again before putting it into the oven to let it bake. 

“This is Dua Lipa?” Carol asked when ‘Break my Heart’ started playing after a few other Lana Del Rey songs. 

You nodded and grinned, showing her your playlist. She scrolled through it and quickly realized she didn’t know any of the songs. 

“What do you think?” You asked curiously. The blonde shrugged and tried to pretend that she knew what she was talking about. 

“I think this is better than Billie Eilish,” She stated, trying to be confident. You raised an eyebrow.

“You can’t compare them, they are different styles.” You argued Carol’s eyes widened slightly but she tried to play it cool.

“Aren’t they the same?” She asked, you giggled and took back your phone, playing the first Billie Eilish song you came across in your playlist.

‘Bad guy’ started playing from the bose. Carol felt like facepalming at her embarrassment. 

“Man, you do have a lot to catch up on.” You commented and laughed. 

Carol opened her mouth to say something snarky, but your laugh entranced her more than she had expected. She found herself staring at you. Before you could ask what she was staring at, the beep of the oven cut you off.

You turned around and put on an oven mitt before pulling the pan out. Grinning at the pasta before setting it down on the countertop, and taking the mittens off. Carol looked surprised at how well the pasta had turned out. 

“Don’t look that surprised.” You commented, she shrugged and grinned at you before pulling out some plates and a few glasses of wine.

“Damn, Tony went all out on this penthouse,” Carol pulled out a bottle of Pinot Noir from the wine cupboard. Your eyes widened slightly and you whistled before serving both of you a plate of pasta as Carol brought the wine to the table. 

Dinner went as it normally was between both of you, there was plenty of bantering and joking throughout the meal. Carol drank a few glasses of wine and urged you to drink more since the wine tasted better than most things she had drank. 

After 2 glasses, you were opening up to her about your past and a few of your previous relationships. Carol listened, fascinated by a lot of your stories. She found herself staring at the way you spoke, animating everything, and talking casually. The blonde constantly found herself entranced by the way you looked at her like she was the most important thing in the world to you.

But after your third glass of wine, you started to get a little drunk and Carol noticed. She guided you to the couch and took the bottle away. You flopped down on the couch, your feet resting on the armrest. Carol sat on the opposite couch and started talking, but you managed to pull her closer to you and rested your head on her lap.

Carol bit her lip at the closeness, barely resisting the urge to play with your hair in her lap. She smiled down at you as you talked about something Tony did that almost set fire to the entire compound.

“What are you looking at?” You slurred when you noticed her staring at you. 

“Nothing,” Carol smiled, gently running her fingers through your hair. You leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering shut before you opened them to look up at her. 

“You know, you’re really pretty.” You muttered, Carol blushed and grinned at your sudden confession.

“I think you got a little too much wine,” She chuckled and tried to help you off of her lap. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Okay,” You slurred, letting Carol pick you up bridal style and carry you into the bedroom. 

She didn’t bother helping you change since you’d swore that they were ‘the comfiest thing’ even after Carol urged you to wear sweatpants. After getting you settled on the pillows, she covered you with the duvet and smiled down at you.

“Goodnight y/n/n,” She whispered, in a surge of confidence, she leaned down and kissed the top of your forehead softly. She smiled at you and started to walk away to sleep on the couch when you grabbed her hand. 

“Stay?” You asked, looking at her through half-lidded eyes. She winced, unsure of what to do.

“I really should sleep on the couch,” She argued softly, you shook your head vigorously. 

“No, please,” You hiccuped and yawned lightly. “Stay?” 

“Okay, I’ll stay,” Carol finally gave into your soft voice. 

You grinned at her sleepily and moved over to make room for her. The instant she was under the duvet, you snuggled into her. You laid your head on her shoulder and wrapped both arms around her waist tightly, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. Carol’s face lit up in a bright blush, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. 

Carol could have told you to move over, to not be as cuddly, but she didn’t want to, even though she had told you she hated physical affection. The blonde couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist and melt into your embrace. The tension left her shoulders as she felt your breathing even out, your breath coming in soft puffs on her neck. 

She smiled at you and ran her hands through your hair a few times until she fell asleep. Happy to fall asleep in the arms of her secret crush.

---------------------

You groaned the second you woke up, you had a massive headache and you felt slightly nauseous. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked around. The area next to you was messy, showing someone had been there before. Before you could think about it, Carol opened the door with a tray of food in her hands. 

“You’re awake,” She remarked, balancing the tray as she walked inside. You nodded and scooted over to give her some space. 

“What do I owe this pleasure?” You asked sarcastically, rubbing your eyes as you looked at the plate.

There was a plate of pancakes with maple syrup and some butter, with two cups of coffee on the side and some cutlery. You took a sip of coffee after thanking her and groaned at the bitter taste. You put it aside and cut into a pancake with your fork, putting it in your mouth and moaning at the taste.

“Oh my god I love you,” You muttered through a mouthful of pancakes. Carol’s eyes widened as she blushed at the comment, opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

But before she could say anything else, you offered her a bite on your fork. She looked at it in confusion before you nudged it lightly towards her. She understood the gesture and opened her mouth, letting you feed her. After eating in silence, you sipped your coffee and downed some aspirin.

“How much wine did you let me drink?” You asked, throat stinging from the hot coffee.

“A few more glasses than I should have,” Carol answered, you glared as she laughed. 

The blonde sipped her coffee as she thought about what you said. Did you love her or did you just say that because of the pancakes? She wasn’t sure. 

--------------

Two weeks went by. Neither of you got drunk again after your hangover. But you were going crazy, it was killing you to spend so much time with Carol. Every time she did something for you, whether it was putting on your favorite show since you were angry. Or ordering something you liked, it made you swoon over her.

Music was a constant at this point, you’d claimed the Bose soundlink as yours and used it constantly to introduce new music to Carol. You danced to it most of the time as Carol stared at you and listened to the music. Her personal favorite had become Summertime Sadness. The remix since you’d nicknamed it ‘Quarantine Madness’.

But the closeness was killing you, both of you fell asleep on opposite ends of the bed. But when you woke up, you were always in Carol’s arms somehow. You meant to get out before she could wake up, but being so close to her. Feeling her behind you was more comforting than you could imagine. So you stayed, Carol awoke and lay there for a few seconds, treasuring the feeling of having you in her arms before getting up.

Neither of you spoke about it. You never spoke about how you wore Carol’s clothes more than yours because they smelled like her. She didn’t speak about how you caught her staring at her many times or how she played with your hair whenever she got the change. 

The closeness was killing both of you. 

Tonight, Carol had been planning to change that, she put on a plain, black t-shirt and your peacock blue flannel and navy blue jeans. She planned to tell you how she felt about you.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?” Carol asked, sitting next to you on the couch as you browse your phone for DIY ideas.

“Not sure, we’ve done most of the things on this website.” You muttered, scrolling through different recipes. 

Carol bit her lip, considering when she should tell you. She called your name to get your attention, you gave her a nonchalant hum and resumed scrolling. Carol opened her mouth to speak, but you cut her off by shoving your phone in her face, showing her a plan for a blanket fort.

“Blanket forts? What are you, five?” The blonde asked after she got over her initial shock. 

“Come on, it’s a clear night and we have string lights,” You argued, you saw her features flicker as she started to cave. 

“Y/n…” She trailed off. 

You grinned at her, knowing her resolve had dwindled completely. You pulled her up by her wrist and dragged her to the bedroom to gather everything for the blanket fort. Pillows, blankets, some string to tie up the blanket, string lights and a speaker for music was all you needed.

Carol helped you set it up on the roof of the penthouse, thinking of a confession the entire time. You noticed how absorbed in thought she was but decided not to question it. 

Eventually, you finished setting up the blanket fort at the edge of the roof so you could still look down on the city below. You sat down at the edge of the fort, looking down at the city below, your legs crossed under you as soft music played from the speaker.

Your eyes glinted softly in the moonlight, your features seeming softer in the dim lighting. Carol stared at you a bit before leaving to get drinks from the kitchen.

Carol got you a few beers and sat down next to you. You leaned your head on her shoulder and sipped the beer thoughtfully. The blonde took in a deep breath and decided this was the right time to tell you.

“Y/n, can I tell you something?” She asked, her heart starting to beat faster as her palms became sweaty.

“‘Course, you can tell me anything Stargirl,” You answered, Carol, smiled softly at the nickname you’d grown used to. 

“I think,” She stuttered, taking in a deep breath and watching the cars whizz by below. 

“Promise we can still be friends if this doesn’t end well?” She asked, you almost groaned.

“Pinky promise.” You lifted your pinky. She laughed and linked her pinky with yours, resting both your hands in her lap.

You played with her fingers as you waited for her to tell you. Carol took in a final deep breath and chugged the rest of her beer. 

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with you,” Carol Whispered, your heart skipped a beat as you grinned.

You pulled away to look at her, in the darkness, she could see the grin on your face, but it confused her. She opened her mouth to justify herself, to ask you something, but you cut her off by pressing your lips to hers. 

Carol’s eyes widened slightly before she melted into your lips. Your hands slid into her short hair, gently pulling on the strands as she sighed into the kiss. Her hands moved to your hips, pulling you closer to her. You pulled away for breath, resting your forehead against hers as your breath fanned across her face.

Eyes fluttered open as you pulled away with a small smile.

“I’m in love with you too.” You whispered, eyes sparkling in the soft light. 

Carol smiled at you, her smile was so soft it made your heart melt. She leaned in again, swearing to herself she would never let you go. 

At least something good came out of this quarantine madness. 

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @5aftermidnight​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​  , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @marvelbbyx​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart​​ , @summergeezburr​​ let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

A/N: This was long, I wrote this in one day. Please tell me what you think

[mylifeatwar]

Book 2, Chapter 2, Page 3

Archived Text Follows:

It’s still not midnight in my timezone yet so this page totally counts as being on time! In all seriousness though, Matt had this page done hours ago but I was kind of in the middle of a tattoo session and wasn’t really available to post it. That’s on me, not him

I really love this fucking page by the way, especially the shading in panel 2. There’s also some great foreshadowing here, but I’ll let you folks find it yourselves.

Something that Matt and I were joking about recently was language and accents in the MLaW verse. While the language that Free Marketeers is essentially supposed to be English (though they call it Treadspake) the accent is pretty different. It took me forever to find but here’s an example of what someone with a heavy Free Market accent sounds like to someone who doesn’t speak Treadspake.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qa-lmcdlq4A&list=FLWEkhqIkBE080OHhK-mC85g&index=1

You can already imagine how that colors most people’s perception of the average Free Marketeer.

Thanks for reading!

– Luther out

Comment Text Follows:

lhsc - Oh ho, Lulu is going to defend her favorite asset. Always bet on the Lulu.

Gillsing - So Free Marketeers aren’t big on enunciation, huh? I guess I’d need to hire a translator to understand them then. Oh. I see what they did there.

Killercow - BOP DAP BOODLY DAP DAU. Also, is lulu like, majorly huge? She looks at least a foot taller than the guy next to her, and she’s taller than Big Al by quite a bit.

plaintextman - Yeah, mista Patenge mentioned it during the long-winded discussion started around chapter 1’s cover: http://www.mylifeatwar.com/?p=26“ Lulubelle merely appears at a normal height because she’s been shown standing next to Captain Theroux, who is a very… very large ogre of a man. We made them this way as a response to the mecha genre being full of diminutive female characters, most often relegated to a non-combat role who spend way too much of their time stating everything they feel.” And MLAW is slowly but surely defying that “softy women” trope more and more (without — so far — overdoing it).

Mr. Patenge - Lulu-Belle (and her friend Missy) are around 6’3″. It’s all those chemicals and hormones in the milk man… also in the soda, the water, the coffee the air, the beer and, for some reason, the toilet paper.

Killercow - I gotta get me some of that toilet paper! Being 6’4 without, I’d probably be a freaky giant!

Iarei - Dat reflection.

Grudgesettler - Fridge with legs versus Lulubelle. Taking all bets, remember the house charges a 15% gratuity from all proceeds. A question, if I may. This one is regarding the competitive nature of the Free Market and their attitudes towards monopolies. From your answer regarding an earlier question about the util, I gather that for the most part, monopolies are disliked. My question is this: what guarantees the continuation of this competition instead of the eventual creation of a series of monopolies? I suspect that the Free Market doesn’t have much in the way of Anti-trust laws. Excellent page. I especially love the perspective shot in the second frame.

Zarpaulus - Three words: Mega-fun food inc. There doesn’t seem to be any evidence that they do a thing to prevent monopolies, real life economic Libertarians don’t so why would fictional ones?

rfaramir - You don’t have to fight monopolies, so long as you have no State which can grant one. So-called “natural monopolies” are rare and not a problem to the free market. Think of a one-of-a-kind mineral mine. Consumers did fine before the mine was discovered, life got better when it’s otherwise-unobtanium made production more efficient, but if the price goes too high, the free market will work at creating alternatives or doing without, going back to previous production modes without the others-unobtainable substance. Potential competition keeps monopolists from charging truly damaging monopoly prices.

Iarei - That simply is not true. You’re drawing an imaginary line in the sand between ‘monopoly’ and ‘dictatorship’ that does not exist. “A government is a body of people, usually notably ungoverned”. In any hypothetical ungoverned free market, the most powerful monopoly necessarily assumes the role of governance. You’ve heard of ‘company stores’ right? Any barrier to entry for competition that exists under a corrupt government is going to exist in a free market system. The only difference is that the company wouldn’t need to bribe any politicians. A question was raised earlier in this comic – “How can Fizziz stay in business if their product is both foul and poisonous”. If you’ve been paying attention here you should already know the answer.

Killercow - No, it tends to be governments that aid monopolies. In a perfectly free market, in theory, a monopoly can’t hold any power because as soon as the price becomes too dear, another company can come and offer competition at a lower price. These are opportunistic people, who would jump at a chance to undercut a company that was being a little too excessive with their prices for their worth, and without a government to aid in forcing opposition out of business, or breaking strikes and such, monopolies would be much harder to obtain. Not impossible, but extremely difficult. For example, look at the role the security contractors play. On one page it is mentioned that Mega Fun Foods is subsidizing their losses to keep them fighting, and it is mentioned that “Few enough companies can do our job”. While they don’t hold a monopoly, because of the couple of other security companies, which keep them from overcharging, they are a specialized and presumably expensive commodity. They have skills that are rare and useful, and charge more for it. But even those skills are not unique to one company. As for Fizziz, I think that was supposed to be more of a joke than a serious commentary on monopoly, but it may have also been something else, like it has a niche market of… I don’t know, horse pee lovers or something. Or it might be an acquired taste. Or maybe they used to offer good products and now people just blindly buy the brand.

Iarei -  Monopolies help themselves, they don’t need a government to do so. All they need is thugs they can pay to shoot anyone not working the line or a sufficiently high barrier to entry. What magic power do you think you have over a monopoly that you don’t have over a government? A working government acts as a check against monopolies. Like, the government that’s literally fighting a monopoly owned mercenary company in this comic? The comic you’re reading? As far as monopolies you might be familiar with go, how about your ISP? If you live in the US I can all but guarantee you you’re overpaying. That’s in a country where the government nominally has legislation intended to prevent monopolies. In this example, it has nothing to do with the government, it has to do with the fact that those companies are better off ripping off the customers in their respective fiefdoms than expanding their infrastructure into areas with competing services with competitive rates. What do you think would happen if your gas, electricity or water were held by a private entity that could set it’s own prices? I’m sure some competing company can come out of nowhere and set up competing utility lines, right? Free market magic, goo! I’m sure you can find your own solution when prices for necessities become to prohibitive, right? Want a drink of water? Hope your rain barrel’s full or you’ll be buying from T. Boone Pickens. Oh no your house is on fire? Don’t worry, Marcus Licinius Crassus is here to help! Someone’s robing your house? Store? Did you pay your protection fund? Oh, and while this is getting beside the point remember that without a government there’s no regulation on things like ‘can that company dump toxic waste in my river’ or ‘can that company sweeten it’s drinks with lead acetate’. Is our governments perfect? Are they even moderately close to good? No, probably not. It still beats the ever living hell out the alternative.

Plaintextman - Remember that regulations like ‘minimum wage’ and ‘standard bread price’ come from governments. These are made to keep monopolies in check, or rather, to effectively grant the common man some power over companies, in turn evening out the concentration of power. However, also true that insane-level OHSA requirements, government-tendered projects to large companies and overtly strict permit regulations are all government-implemented things that can make it hard if not impossible for small players to get in the game, thus supressing competition. So yeah, it’s not really so much a question of whether there is a formal government or not. More a question of how those in power act, for they are the ‘government’. And this is ultimately determined by what kind of rights (formal and de facto) the common man is granted. Do you have the right to shop somewhere else without fear for your life? The right to your own property? Freedom of speech? I love the idea of free markets. They’ve been so successful over the centuries because of that awesome self-correcting mechanism of ‘competition’; just about every city ever had a market place where businesses could offer and compete, much more than can be said of less natural systems like communism. But “total objective freedom” doesn’t really exist, so no market can be truly “free”. Illegal (drug-) industry is example of an ‘anarcho-capitalist free market’ environment that’s also extremely unfriendly to just about everyone except those in power. And the reason why boils down to how uncaring those in power (“government”) are and how little power the common person (consumer) it given: as long as they pay nobody really gives a shit about them. And if they stop paying by say, buying from a cheaper supplier, they might as well die along with that supplier.

motorfirebox - I like the tan lines.

[avengerofyourheart]

Air B&E (reader x Bucky)

Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, unnamed Male Target, OFC Jeff. 

Summary: When a mission requires close proximity with your least favorite teammate, you try to make the best of it, but a change in plans adds new challenges and possibly a new opportunity. ( basically Bed Sharing Trope meets Enemies to Lovers Trope. Kinda.  :D )

Warnings: sexual situations? pretty vague.  

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags are at the bottom

A/N: Hey, ya’ll !! I’m back from vacation and the idea for this fic was sparked by my sleeping accommodations. heh. I kinda fell in love with it and even made time to write in the evenings after being super tired from traveling. I hope you enjoy this and any feedback is appreciated! Love you guys!! :)

Masterlist

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“Alright! So here are the keys, the WiFi password is posted on the fridge and let me know if there’s anything you need, anything at all. Okay?” said the overly enthusiastic young man before you.

You accepted the keys with a smile, “Absolutely! Thank you so much, Jeff. It’s even better than the pictures.”  

“I’m so glad,” he grinned. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was so nice to meet you both.”

Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, tight smile upon his face. “You, too, man,” he coolly responded.

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you clasped the hand of the heavy left arm draped over your shoulders. Technology allowed the metal plates to be shielded with a holographic flesh arm, but it still weighed a ton.

“Bye, Jeff.”

He nodded before stepping out into the hall. The moment the front door lock engaged, you shoved the arm off and put as much space between you two as possible.

“This plan is stupid,” Bucky said with contempt as he collapsed heavily onto the couch.

“My plan is brilliant. You’re just too much of an idiot to appreciate it,” you smirked, unzipping your luggage to pull out a piece of equipment, then sweeping all the rooms for listening or video devices. Thankfully, it came up clean.

“What the hell is an ‘Air BnB’ anyway? Why can’t we stay in the hotel across the street?” your unfortunate partner on this mission whined loudly from the living room while you unpacked in the bedroom.

“B and B? As in bed and breakfast? Get with the times, old man. All the young people prefer Air BnB’s over stuffy hotel rooms. Instead, this is individuals renting out rooms in a house or whole apartments for much cheaper and it’s a lot more personal,” you finished saying as you stepped out into the living room toward the window. “But most of all….this place gives us the best possible view of our target. See?”

Bucky stood and walked up beside you, then observing the window you pointed out across the street and down a floor from where you were staying. It was perfect.

“Yeah, well, I still think it’s shady that some 22-year-old can rent out an apartment that his daddy pays for so he can then use the money to party in Cabo for two weeks or whatever,” he mumbled, begrudgingly starting to unpack equipment.

You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “Such a cynic, Barnes. For all we know, Jeff is a poor college student who crashes with a friend on weekends while he offers this place out so he can barely make his rent. I choose to think the best in people.”

He scoffed at your optimism. “And I’m the idiot?”

“Whatever,” you brushed him off. “Let’s just get to work.”

________

You spent the next few hours setting up surveillance equipment and getting settled. This could be a long one. After securing a listening device to the lower left corner of your target’s window (expertly shot like a dart by you), Bucky and yourself took turns being eyes and ears. It was much more efficient to do only one or the other.

Luckily, you had the headphones on during dinner so you could avoid Bucky’s incessantly loud chewing, which drove you insane at every meal. Evening was uneventful with little conversation, only observations about the target. Around 10:30pm, the lights across the street went out and audio was silent the next 20 minutes except for soft snoring sounds.

“Looks like he’s gone to sleep. I’m calling it,” you declared before removing the headphones and standing to stretch. “I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Me, too,” Bucky replied, following you down the hall until you paused in the doorway and he bumped into you.

“Uh…where do you think you’re going?” you asked accusingly.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Bed?”

You let out a burst of laughter. “Not a chance. You’re not sleeping in here.”

“What?” he asked in disbelief. “W-where am I supposed to sleep?”

Walking past him into the hallway, you opened the closet and pulled out a folded rolling bed, then gesturing to it for Bucky’s benefit.

Bucky snorted. “You’re joking. That thing won’t even hold me, let alone allow me to sleep. Why don’t you sleep on that and I’ll take the bed?”

“Not a chance in hell! I paid for this place, I get the bed,” you demanded.

“Hardly! Your alias paid for the room, not you, genius,” he mocked as he shoved his way into the bedroom.

Failing to have a witty retort, you launched yourself onto the bed and sprawled across the entire surface. “I am NOT sharing a bed with you.”

“Are you insane?” he laughed at your ridiculous behavior. “It’s a king-sized bed. Plenty of room for us both. Look, we both need our rest. Let’s just be professional about this, okay?”

You huffed out a sigh in resignation. “Fine. But if any part of you touches me, I’m removing it from my body AND yours,” you threatened from your kneeling position on the bed, pointed finger in his face.

Hands raised in surrender, he agreed. “Fine with me. I’ll stay on my side, you stay on yours.”

______________

The constant beeping of your 5am alarm roused you from sleep. You tried to reach the phone on the bedside table, but you were surprisingly stuck. As the drowsy fog lifted from your mind, you realized that a strong arm held you from behind like a vice. You struggled in vain, but then you felt something.

“Barnes,” you croaked in your morning voice, then elbowing the man behind you in the ribs when he didn’t respond. “Barnes!”

“Ow! What?” he whined, loosening his grip.

“You better have a gun pointed at my spine because the alternative is too horrifying to even mention.”

“Um…”

“Ugh! You’re disgusting!” you cried out, scrambling off the bed.

Bucky let out a throaty chuckle. “Don’t take it personally, doll. Trust me. This…was not about you.”

“Well, thank heavens for that. And do NOT call me ‘doll’”, you demanded before escaping to the bathroom.

Once you were both ready for the day and returned to surveillance, the uncomfortable moment from that morning was forgotten. Mostly.

Morning passed and then time flowed into the afternoon. Interactions between you and Bucky were kept professional, sharing intel you each had received and taking breaks when needed. From what you could tell, your target hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. He hadn’t even left his hotel room, content to watch pay-per-view and order room service.

Evening fell and Bucky had had enough. Setting down his binoculars, he stood up to stretch with a frustrated sigh.

“This guy is unbelievably boring. How do you even know he has what we need? How long do we have to wait for something to happen?” he threw his hands up, then running fingers through his long chestnut strands.

You stood up as well, removing one side of the headphones so you could hear. “He has it. I know it. My source is reliable. Have you no patience, Barnes? This is part of the package, cupcake,” you added mockingly.  

He rolled his eyes. “I’m so bored I feel like my brain is melting. Let’s switch again. At least with audio I can look at something else interesting…”

“Wait…” you paused a moment. “I have an idea.”

A wide smile spread across your face, much to Bucky’s confusion. You handed him the headphones and binoculars before stepping into the bedroom to make a phone call. Once you returned to the living room, you commandeered the binoculars and returned to your vantage point.

“What was that all about?” Bucky inquired as he snacked loudly, much to your chagrin.

“You’ll see. Right about….now,” you checked the time on your watch before watching the man across the street closely.

Red lights began to flash in the building opposite, causing Bucky to shout and throw off the headphones.

“Ow! What the hell, Y/N?”

You then realized that there was a loud blaring sound coming from the headset.

“Oops. Fire alarm. Sorry about that,” you offered a guilty smile, shrugging.

“Yeah, I’m sure…” he glared at you.

“Shh! It worked,” you quieted him, eyes pealed on your target.

Through the binoculars, you watched the man head straight for the closet when the alarm first sounded. There was a small safe inside the sliding doors and through further magnification, you were able to decipher the code he punched in.

“Got it!” you celebrated with a punch in the air, all smiles.

You disappeared into the bedroom while Bucky peered across the way, still trying to figure out what you knew. Minutes later you reemerged wearing your stealth cat suit with your hair pulled back, a few light weapons in their holsters. This wasn’t battle, so you didn’t need much.

“Uh…where are you going in that?” Bucky asked.

“I’m gonna go get our intel, what does it look like?” you answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

He scoffed. “Didn’t he just take it with him during evacuation?”

“Nope. False alarm. Which you would know if you had your headphones on like you should, Mr. Audio,” you walked past, patting him on the cheek.

Bucky looked out the window and saw you were right. The fire alarm was off and guests had returned to their rooms. You had arranged for the false alarm through one of your teammates. A stroke of genius, if you did say so yourself.

“I knew he would go straight for the most important item in the room when fire was a threat. Kinda like how parents head for their children and photo albums. Look, he’s put it back in the safe and is getting ready to leave for dinner at the hotel restaurant,” you nodded toward the window.

“How did you know he’d go out instead of ordering room service again?”

You smirked. “I had someone slip a coupon into his check-in paperwork. People do love a good discount.”

Bucky nodded in agreement, almost impressed. “But wait, why do you get to go and not me?”

“Cause this is B&E. Breaking and entering is my specialty, Barnes. It takes stealth, not brute force. If I need someone to put a metal fist through a wall, I’ll call you.”

“Hey!” he called out, offended, as he watched you repel out the window and dropped to the ground before slipping across the street, unseen.

Within minutes, you had scaled the hotel’s wall like a rock climber and jimmied the window open before slipping inside. You crossed into the bedroom and toward the closet, entering the safe’s code with a gloved finger. As you hit the last number, you heard the card key being used outside the hotel suite followed by the target entering the room.

You cursed under your breath and considered your options. There was not enough room to slip under the bed, the closet had translucent doors so you’d be seen, and the bathroom was off the living room. Stupid hotel room design. So you did the next thing that popped into your mind. You grabbed the intel, locked the safe and then started stripping.

The male target opened the door to the bedroom, clearly looking for something, but instead found you posed on the bed suggestively in your bra and underwear.

“Hey, baby,” you cooed just before he turned on the light.

“Who the—“

You screamed. “I’m so sorry, I thought…I was trying to surprise my boyfriend, he….I guess he gave me the wrong room number or the front desk gave me the wrong key, I’m so sorry, sir. “

Gathering your rolled up catsuit with the intel inside and your boots, you hoped he was too distracted by your state of undress to notice your clothing.

“It’s, uh…it’s fine…” the man stuttered, still in shock.

“I’m so sorry, again, I’ll just go, can I borrow this? Thanks,” you asked without needing an answer, taking the bathrobe on the back of the door.

Outside in the hallway, you could finally breathe. You took the stairs and then slipped out the rear door of the hotel and back across the street. Dreading this moment, you knocked on the door to see a smirking Bucky on the other side. You brushed past him and headed for the bedroom.

“Well, that was quite the show,” he chuckled. “Did ‘the plan’ not go as well as you had hoped? He went back for his wallet, by the way, but you’d know that if you were wearing your ear piece.”

You huffed out an annoyed sigh. “Okay, fine, ‘the plan’ wasn’t entirely perfect. But I improvised and it’s fine. We got what we needed.”

You dropped your clothing on the floor and retrieved the small black case containing sensitive files and other intel you had been seeking. Setting the case inside your luggage, you shrugged off the robe and threw it on the bed.

“Oh, um…sorry…” You turned around to see Bucky trying to avert his eyes.

“Oh, please. Like you didn’t get an eyeful through binoculars, you perv. Besides, you’ve seen me in a bikini,” you replied, rummaging for your pajamas.

“Yeah, well, it’s different when there’s lace involved. And in person…” you heard him behind you, much closer than before.

You turned around, noticing Bucky trying to keep his gaze at eye level.

“So?”

“So…maybe you should have taken this morning a little personally…” he said with a smirk.

You let out a burst of laughter. “Is that supposed to be flattering?” you cocked an eyebrow, not at all insecure about your current state of dress.

Bucky shrugged noncommittally.

“Whatever, Barnes,” you snarled, stepping towards him, then placing both hands on his chest and giving him a hard shove. He found himself stumbling until the back of his knees hit the bed and he fell onto the mattress.

“What was that for?” he asked with a puzzled expression.

You climbed onto the bed, placing a knee on each side of his hips.

“I thought we could have hot, angry, hate sex before we check out tomorrow. Got a problem with that?”

Eyes wide, Bucky shook his head. “Uh…nope. No problem.”

“Good,” you responded, then crashing your lips onto his as you worked to get his shirt off.

He took the hint and sat up to remove his shirt before he flipped you over onto your back with him on top. The kiss was aggressive and searingly hot. As much as you disliked Bucky, you couldn’t deny he was attractive. Clothing was quickly removed and things heated up, but as Bucky nibbled and licked his way down your body, he chose that moment to speak.

“Just for the record, you were on my side of the bed this morning, Y/N,” he clarified.

You rolled your eyes with a groan, “Ugh, shut up, Barnes. You’re ruining it. No more talking and put that tongue to better use.”

“Got it. Shutting up now,” he muttered against your skin.

_________________

You woke to muttered voices, followed by a scream.

“My eyes! My eyes!”

Sitting up in bed in shock and gathering the sheet around yourself, you squinted at the sudden light.

“What the…Clint? Nat? What’re you doing here?” you asked in a gravelly voice.

“Being permanently scarred for life, apparently. You guys didn’t report last night so we thought we’d see how things were going. Which is…well? I guess?” Clint replied with hands over his eyes.

“Sorry. We’ll be right out,” you told him, then eyeing the man beside you.

Your teammates waited in the living room while you dressed and packed. Neither you nor Bucky said a word the whole time.

Coming out with suitcase in hand, you saw that they had already packed up your surveillance equipment while they waited. Bucky was right behind you, but then left to put all the bags by the door. Natasha gave you an amused look as you gathered the rest of your things.

“What?” you asked the redhead as you handed her the black case of intel. 

“Oh, come on. I thought you hated Barnes!” she grinned at you, desperately wanting details.

“I still do. It was nothing, this was…stress relief. Trust me, he’s still as annoying and idiotic as ever, but…he’s a decent partner.” You winked at Natasha before walking toward the kitchen, leaving her gawking in frustration.

Grabbing paper and pen, you scrawled a note:

Hi, Jeff!

Thanks so much for letting us stay. We had a wonderful time! I’ll leave the keys in the lock box and put up a lovely review once we’re home. My husband and I agree, AirBnB is the best way to go!

Best Wishes.

You finished writing, signing with your alias. Being the last to leave you allowed yourself a look back into the quaint apartment. It may not have gone according to plan, but as far as missions went, this one was surprisingly not bad. Even if your partner was a loud eater.

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Okay that was pretty fun. I stayed at two AirBnB’s while on vacation so I had this plot pop into my head. Jeff was actually the name of one of the hosts, so there’s a little tidbit. ;)  I hope you enjoyed it! Personally, I kinda like that they still hate each other at the end. haha. Also, any Supernatural fans might recognize the “hot, angry hate sex” line from when Bella sees Dean in a tux. “Don’t objectify me!” :D I was paraphrasing, though. Anywho! I’m back to my crazy normal life tomorrow so we’ll see how that goes. I’ve missed you guys! I’d love to hear any feedback. I appreciate every word. :)

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[lesmotsincompris]

Thoughts on GoT S07E02

This time I avoided reading other people’s opinions on the episode until I could watch it for myself. I wanted to see which flaws I would notice on my own and which would be more of a ‘fridge logic’ type of thing. So sorry if I’m gonna sound repetitive.

I actually tried to watch the episode live last night, but Brazilian HBO Go crashed for the second Sunday in a row. I can’t help but laugh, this is the one time of the year when most people actually care about HBO and they screw it.

So, the episode. I feel it had higher highers and lower lowers? But it still navigates ‘meh’ waters for the most part. My thoughts on it:

Dragonstone

Dany saying Dragonstone doesn’t feel like home is an interesting concept: how much Westeros is Dany’s home? If not Westeros, then where? What will book!Dany feel when she arrives? What is home, anyway? All great questions, so we know the show won’t explore them.

It’s great to see Daenerys calling Varys on his bullshit, but this should have happened two seasons ago when he first arrived in Meereen, not now that he took care of her city while she was gone and they had a fun cruise together. And again show!Dany basically shrugs away the fact that Varys tried to kill her! Why? What is he bringing to #TeamTargaryen anyway?

See, this is what happens when you cut a character or subplot without thinking of the consequences. Varys’ motivations earlier in the show make sense for a Varys that champions his perfect prince Aegon for the Iron Throne. They cut Aegon, but forgot to adjust Varys’ motivations accordingly and now are having to fix it.

But wait, there’s more! While book!Dany has many qualities that I admire and that can make her a great queen, I don’t feel comfortable backing her claim for the Iron Throne just yet. Just like Stannis had to learn to ‘save the kingdom to win the throne’ and not the other way around, Dany still has to deconstruct the ‘usurper’ narrative and understand why people in Westeros didn’t want the Targaryens anymore. Book!Dany hasn’t done this yet, but neither has show!Dany. On the contrary, the show goes out of its way to emphasize the ‘conquest’ aspect of Dany’s coming to Westeros, with her being a little more pyromaniac than I would like. What makes Varys think she’ll be a better ruler than her father? What makes any of her allies think that?

After careful consideration, Dany decides for starvation instead of burning. A true champion of the people! Yaaahhhs queen! Because that won’t get the innocent killed, I’m sure.

Show!Tyrion is a character I can’t stand anymore. All he does is mansplain things to Daenerys like she was some silly child and play the Reasonable Man™ to murder-happy Strong Female Characters™ Yara, Ellaria, and Olenna. Why is he on #TeamTargaryen? What does he add to the group or Daenerys’ cause? And I’m not even gonna comment on the idiocy of storming Casterly Rock by sea, but hey, this comes from the writers that think you can go around Moat Cailin. Someone should paint a map of Westeros in the writer’s room, just saying.

Olenna is another character I’ll be happy to see gone. What’s with ‘they won’t obey you unless they fear you’? Has she attended the Cersei Lannister School of Leadership too? And what is ‘be a dragon’ even supposed to mean?

Hey, at least Yara expressed her own thoughts this time instead of letting Theon do it. Progress, I guess.

Melisandre took a flight from Plot Airlines and arrived in Dragonstone just to deliver exposition on a prophecy. I love when the writers sudden remember they should have seeded certain things ages ago and expect we won’t notice if they shoehorn it now. Also why is Melisandre so convinced that Dany is hot shit? Because she has a fancy hair and dragons? On the plus side, we got Missandei translating things and that’s always welcome.

Speaking of Missandei, the scene between her and Greyworm was really sweet, if a bit too long. I think this scene worked so well because those two are the only characters in this show that I like with no reservations; everybody else is a jerk to some degree and I can’t bring myself to root for them. Great acting from Jacob Anderson, he did in one scene more than Kit Harrignton and Emilia Clarke do in a whole season. My complaints are Missandei’s lack of underwear (in winter? Really?) and the forced accents.

King’s Landing

Cersei has a point: what reasons do the nobles of Westeros have to believe that Dany won’t be like Aerys? On the other hand, you know who’s also like Aerys? Cersei ‘let’s burn the sept with everyone inside’ Lannister! Ugh, this show.

‘She has three fully grown dragons, my grace’ and Gilly still has a tiny baby, so dragons grow extra fast in this show.

‘It’s a long ride back to the reach’, says Randyll. Yeah, but if you leave now you can be there before the episode is over.

Qyburn follows the Essos Daily twitter account, so he knows details of the fight in Meereen. He also just watched The Hobbit and wants to do a Bard-on-Smaug to Dany’s dragons.

Oldtown

I barely care about book!Jorah, but I certainly don’t care about show!Jorah. He outlived whatever purpose he had in the narrative, I hate how his feelings for Dany are framed as romantic and I hate how the show simply forgot the reason why Jorah was banned from Westeros in first place. Yes, he is dead for his family, for the minor misdemeanor of SELLING PEOPLE FFS. Jorah is an unrepentant slaver and a creepy crush won’t suddenly make him a sympathetic character, quite the opposite.

Jorah’s greyscale moved at the speed of plot, but fortunately didn’t affect his face so that Dany can still love Iain Glen’s looks. I’m glad Dany x Jon are an obvious romantic endgame for the show, because otherwise D&D might actually pair Dany and Jorah.

Last week we had poop montage, this week we have an overly long scene of Sam removing Jorah’s skin. This is what makes bold television and mature entertainment, I guess.

By the way, isn’t greyscale supposed to be on your blood or something? It isn’t exactly a skin condition that can be cured by just removing the skin, or I’m sure other people would have tried it before. This treatment makes no sense, but when has that ever stopped the writers?

Winterhell

Sam’s raven arrived in Winterfell ridiculously fast, but it almost seems too slow compared to Dany’s raven. And I’m guessing nobody at the Wall bothered sending a raven saying that Bran is alive and well and coming their way ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Of course Sansa thinks Tyrion is the best. Who doesn’t think Tyrion is the best? He didn’t rape her, isn’t that the nicest thing a man can do for you? Ugh.

Again the writers’ choice to create conflict between the Stark siblings is to skip pre-meeting and make them argue in front of everyone. Again Sansa and Jon disagree because the plot needs them to disagree. Again the crowd cheers whoever is speaking.

Jon didn’t want to be king, he says. He just accepted it, he says. I can’t explain how much I hate this trope. Bad writers everywhere seem to believe that a good leader is the guy that doesn’t want to be a leader, because ambition is evil so a guy that wants to be leader must be evil. This is all levels of stupid and there’s no faster way to make sure somebody will do a lousy job than forcing them to do a job they don’t want to do.

We’ve moved on from trashing Stannis post-death to trashing Catelyn post-death. Ugh.

Somewhere in the Riverlands

Arya’s meeting with Hot Pie was weird. Hot Pie’s presence feels more like an easter egg than two old friends seeing each other after a long time. Maisie Williams is usually a great actor, but she’s been acting quite stiff this season. Maybe it’s D&D’s tradition of thinking that Strong Female Characters™ show no emotions?

Arya ‘heard’ Cersei is queen, but when she left Westeros Cersei was also queen, so...? It seems everybody gets their news super fast except for Arya. Maybe the cell phone signal at the Riverlands isn’t very good? Okay that Arya doesn’t know the Starks rule Winterfell again, but why didn’t she tried to go to the Wall as soon as she arrived in Westeros?

I hate that this is called ‘Battle of the Bastards’ in universe. It’s a stupid name on its own, but makes even less sense from a watsonian perspective. To call it ‘Battle of the Bastards’ is to make this a personal fight between Jon and Ramsay, but that’s not what it was. It was a battle for Winterfell and the North, a battle between Starks and Boltons even. Jon and Ramsay haven’t even met before that.

Nymeria showed up to announce that the show is officially cutting their husky-in-a-direwolf-body CGI budget. That scene felt super contrived and just made me angry at the writers. In the books we know Arya and Nymeria will meet again, and we know their connection is still strong, because Martin had been foreshadowing this for ages. In the show we never heard of Nymeria after season 1 and now she just showed up to say she won’t show up anymore.

Somewhere in the sea

I think the show reached a new level of racism, exotification and hypersexualization of PoC with “foreign invasion”. Good thing D&D won’t be showrunners for an upcoming tv show where the South won the Civil War. Can you imagine?

Yallaria didn’t live to its hype. Yara is bisexual, because of course a character that flirts with everyone is bisexual.

To whoever thought it would be a good idea to have the Sand Snakes as catty and childish murder-happy women: don’t.

The battle was confusing. Not only the lighting was terrible but also for the most part I couldn’t make sense of who was fighting for what side. Euron hired some Destruction mages from Skyrim so he could use Fireballs against the Sand Snakes. Maybe they’ll replace the dragonhorn with Odahviing?

It’s painfully obvious the showrunners want Euron to be scary, a Ramsay 2.0. and Joffrey 3.0. He even has a mustache to twirl! That’s only because they clearly can’t write a story without an obvious and defined human villain, who must be MOAR EVUHL than his predecessors. I won’t be surprised if we see Euron spitting on puppies and peeing on flowers. Sigh… This is just ridiculous.

Book!Euron is scary, but because we have subtle hints of his monstrosity. He’s a human villain, the last great human villain of ASOIAF, but he stitches the magical and the political arcs together. Show!Euron is just the same edginess and sadism we’ve seen before with other overused villains, now with a really silly appearance.

The plot needs Theon’s trauma to exist again, so Theon’s trauma exists again. I’m all for exploring PTSD and traumatic experiences on fiction, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore the trauma until it’s convenient for the plot or scream it away like Yara did last season.

I’m sure no misogyny will come from Euron having Yara and Ellaria captive. 

Extra comments

After months of studying, I think I finally figured the laws of succession in D&D’s Westeros: whoever is the closest named character is automatically the heir. See: Cersei in King’s Landing, Ellaria in Dorne, Edd in the Night’s Watch...

What’s with the funny editing? You know the thing, they show something gross, then show food that looks a lot like the gross thing… Come on, guys, you’re not twelve.

(maybe they are? That would explain A LOT)

Once more they’re not even trying with the costumes and wigs. Sansa’s wig in particular is so bad it’s distracting.

What’s with the forced accents? Why every time a character is supposed to be ~foreign~ they go with a generic broken English accent? If you want a different accent than the main cast, make them use an American accent! Why not?

What happened to Stannis’ men? Was this ever, like, explained?

So that was it, another hour with stuff happening.

[bibliophileiz]

Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox

Yockey knocks it out of the park with this debut -- ‘Asa Fox’ may be in my top five favorite SPN episodes. Directed by John Badham,featuring one of the best musical montages in the recent seasons before the title card and featuring the always perfect Sam Smith as Mary, Kim Rhodes as Jody and Lisa Berry as Billie, it is criminal that this one only has an 8.5 rating on IMDb. (I mean, Billie’s presence alone makes it at least a 9.) 

Anyhoo, let’s dive in.

In this opening scene, we meet baby Asa Fox racing through the woods running from a werewolf. And may I just say I am pissed that we didn’t get an AU Resistance Leader Asa Fox in Season 13 (one of my many disappointments from that plot thread.) Mary is the perfect blend of badass hunter and typical mom (cleaning Asa’s face). Also, her braids are super cute.

“Since the last time we saw you, I killed Hitler.” “Thank you?” Dean is a rom com chick, pass it on. Ellen and Asa were bros, it’s cannon. “We’re going to salt and burn the body tomorrow. I can’t believe I just said that like it’s something normal.” God, Dean is distractingly hot this scene.

How did the Winchesters get into Canada? Are you telling me they have fake passports?!?!

The actress playing Asa’s mom does not get the credit she deserves for this episode.(I looked her up, and she is Laurie Paton. She’s also in The X-Files.)

There should be more episodes that feature a shit ton of hunters getting wasted. “Nobody can take out five Wendigos in a night.” I want that episode.  THE BANES TWINS!  “She was, like, a good witch. Very Enya. It was the ‘90s.” “What did she teach you?” “Mostly how to seduce men.” Max. Buddy. I need you to give Dean a nudge. In other news, I want the Banes twins to be my best friends.

“It’s not like we’re in the live-till-you’re-90, die-in-your-sleep business.” That line has a lot of weight, especially now going into the final season.

Rollerskating ghouls!!! I want that episode too. Sam and Dean walking in just in time to hear that Asa and Jody banged is so awkward. 

Jody fangirling over Mary is still the cutest thing that has ever happened.  Mary’s short hair this season is the other cutest thing. Also, unrelated, but I love Sam Smith’s voice. My best friend once described my mom’s voice as sounding like a hug, and while I knew what she meant -- because she’s my mom and I’ve always gotten the same feeling hearing her talk (unless she’s mad) that I get when she gives me a hug, but I didn’t think other people would feel that way -- but that’s how Sam Smith’s voice sounds. Like a hug.

Big Sister Jody coming to Dean’s rescue, as usual.

How come Lorraine heard the name “Mary Winchester” and didn’t immediately assume Mary is Mary Winchester’s daughter who just has the same name? Maybe she just assumes all hunters are childless loners. “You’re the reason my son didn’t become an astronaut.” Also the reason he didn’t become a werewolf, Lorraine, keep up. I do think this scene is wonderful, because as Lorraine says, “Hunting was his whole life. He never married, never had kids--” Mary’s hearing the story of her own sons.  And the next scene is the same: Sam telling her Asa chose to be a hunter will later parallel him telling her he chose to be a hunter in “The Raid” (another criminally underrated episode. God, I love Season 12.) “Everywhere I go and everything I do, it just feels wrong.” Maaaaaarrrrryyyyy!!!! When Sam says Mary was still hunting in 1980, after Dean was born and “everyone” thought she had quit, Mary gets this guilty look on her face that is not really explored to its full potential. And I just want to say that in a perfect world where Jeffrey Dean Morgan was able to come back for a length of episodes and could have a fully developed arc (and not the delightful but kind of fan servicy one he had in the 300th) that THIS is the plot I would have wanted -- John being resentful of Mary for keeping her hunting life secret from him and, arguably, putting their sons in danger for it. 

You guys, this episode is already so good, and we haven’t even really gotten to the Agatha Christie-style murder spree yet. 8.5 my ass.

Also, Jared Padalecki is killing it this episode. I love his scenes with Sam Smith.

Is the blood dripping on Asa’s forehead supposed to parallel the show’s first scene? I mean, I’m sure it is, but I need some meta writer to explain to me why that is.

And here’s where the plot picks up. Also, we need more crossroads demons in our life. (Where’s my Bela Talbot Crossroads demon???)

“Go away.” “You’re not the boss of me.”  Billie and Dean is one of my favorite dynamics in the entire show. “You can huff and puff, but that house is on supernatural lockdown.”

Jael kills both a First Nations girl and then later Marlene and her kid to create angst for Asa. Does it count as fridging if it’s in dialogue? Turning off the water is so smart! I love me some smart villains! I love how Jody immediately takes command of the situation -- before Sam, even. I kind of always wanted her to be like Sam’s lieutenant.

“It’s a one-way ticket.” Billie is like me, and wants to watch the Agatha Cristie-style murder spree, which would be totally ruined if everybody could get out of the house.

Did Jael say, “Elvis has left the building”? That motherfucker ....

This is the first time we see Mary grab an angel blade, which means the angel blade Mary carries the entirety of this season is Asa’s.

Kim Rhodes makes a delightfully evil demon, and seems to have had a blast doing so. “I so hoped you’d kill your mom! Wouldn’t that be a riot?”

(also, my brother’s dog is named bucky, so every time a character says bucky’s name i just get really distracted.)

I like the hunters all saying different parts of the exorcism.

“That sucked.” Poor Jody!

You guys, Bucky sucks. Also, hanging the person you actually killed from a tree so that no one would suspect you actually killed him is like ... so opposite of what the demon-dealing-happy Winchetsters would do in this scenario that they can’t even comprehend how to handle it.

I just realized this ep even has an Agatha Christie-style reveal, with the murderer confessing all at the end after being revealed. (And everyone else’s identities/crimes/motivations being revealed FIRST.)

“I was wrong. Asa did have a family. I’ve even got grandchildren.” Wow, it’s almost like hunters can have families too.

“Mom to mom....” Why, oh why did Jody and Mary not hang out more?? (It’s because those fuckers at the CW cancelled Wayward Sisters before it could get filmed.)

Also, this scene between Billie and Mary is so. good. “She’s not alone.” Dean. Buddy. I love you forever. “Then I guess you’re just going to have to wait.” “Winchesters.” This scene is just *kisses fingers like an Italian chef* “So does this mean you’re coming home?” “Well, not yet, see I’m only contracted for like 10 episodes this season ....”

And scene.

I mean. This episode, man. Everything about it is criminally underrated. It’s not very flashy in terms of mytharc plot, but it contains so much rich worldbuilding, such great writing and acting, and a healthy dose of ominous foreshadowing the likes of which only Yockey can pull off.

Yockey knows the perfect characters to mix and match. (And I think the scenes between Lisa Berry and Jensen Ackles this episode became the inspiration for their even better scene in “Advanced Thanatology.”) This is the only episode we ever get that has Mary AND Jody AND Billie, three of the best characters. He also creates delightful original characters (which we’ll see again with Tasha Banes, Lily Sunder, Noah the eyeball-eating monster). I know this is the casting director, and not Yockey, but each of the actors playing those original characters were on point.

I also am a total fan of the Agatha Christie tropes -- to my knowledge, that had never been done with Supernatural before, but this episode was just the perfect combination of the two.

I can’t think of any major problems with this one, or even really minor ones. (I mean, the scene with Sam and Dean talking about Jody’s sex life is pretty awkward....) Keep ‘em coming, Steve Yockey. I will watch everything you ever write forever. 

[lisacongo2-blog]

‘Shrill’ Shreds Hollywood Stereotypes About How Women of Size Eat

The first time you see Annie, the protagonist of the new Hulu show Shrill, eating, her meal doesn’t look particularly pleasant. Played by SNL cast member Aidy Bryant, Annie grabs a plastic container from the fridge, opening it to reveal three white disks — supposedly pancakes — from a Tupperware labeled “Thin Menu.” While standing in her kitchen, she tries to break off a slab, puts it in her mouth, and wrinkles her nose in disgust. Her roommate, Fran (played by Lolly Adefope), walks by to witness the three doughy pucks, and says, “Good God.”

It’s not the only time Annie eats in her kitchen. Later in the series, Bryant opens a sealed container of leftover spaghetti, standing alone over an island near the sink. She twirls noodles around her fork, grinning in anticipation. She looks confident, blissed out, holding her hand under her chin as a noodle inches toward her lips. She scrunches her eyebrows and crinkles her nose, the perfect opposite of her look of disgust eating the Thin Meal pancakes. She nods and smiles while chewing, enjoying the moment.

The annals of TV are full of stories where women change themselves, from Mad Men’s Peggy Olsen to Eleanor Shellstrop in The Good Place. But Shrill, the six-episode adaptation of writer Lindy West’s memoir of the same name, is a different kind of “transformation” story, starring a woman of size. The show tells the story of Annie, a Portland-based calendar editor for an alt-weekly newspaper, trying to jump start her career, earn the love of Ryan, a painfully oblivious loser, and become a more honest, self-assured person. What Shrill is not is a story of body transformation, of a fat woman getting thin. Although it shows Annie eating diet meals and exercising with her mother, her real goal goes beyond the universal challenge of self-acceptance — she wants to feel powerful, as a woman of size and simply as a woman. She wants to demand respect from the people around her.

Those people often fat-shame Annie, whether it’s her obsessive online troll, her perpetually sneering editor, or an invasive personal trainer who eventually devolves into calling her a “fat bitch.” Still, Annie’s relationship with her body is more nuanced. Her insecurities are more often portrayed in physical details or unspoken interpersonal choices she makes because she feels that, in her words, “there’s a certain way that your body’s supposed to be and I’m not that.”

In media where a woman’s relationship with her body plays its own role, the eating scenes are telling. There are countless movies in which women devour ice cream during break-ups or lonely moments. And for years, when a person of size ate on screen, it was portrayed as comic relief, from Melissa McCarthy consuming a napkin in Spy to a cross-dressing Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live inhaling his friend’s french fries while asking, “Can I have some?”

Even in shows and movies celebrated for their representations of non-normative bodies, eating is reserved for emotional distress. In HBO’s Girls, Hannah Horvath (played by Lena Dunham) is often caught eating during low moments, like when she eats cake with her hands after her purse is stolen on the train. In Real Women Have Curves, it takes a conflict with her mother to get the protagonist, Ana (America Ferrera), to eat a bite of flan in a moment of overall positive defiance. Rarely do women of size get the opportunity to eat happily on screen without some tumult, some churning emotional hang-ups or interpersonal conflict. The exception, of course, is when people of size are shot eating healthy foods, like when the contestants on The Biggest Loser marvel over turkey burgers. But if a not-thin character is caught eating a cupcake, the audience is meant to laugh or cry at their expense.

When Annie eats so-called “indulgent” foods in Shrill, she’s not considered a failure, and it’s not used as a comic device. Instead, it’s often tied to a moment of personal or thematic triumph completely unrelated to her weight. By simply showing Annie eating the foods countless people love in a way that’s empowering, Shrill reinforces the idea that people, regardless of size, have the right to enjoy food in its entirety — not just salads and apples and other pious things, but rather the foods that are seen as permissibly comforting and luxurious for people of a smaller size. Like last year’s hit culinary travel show Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, Hulu’s new series rewrites the rules for who gets to enjoy food on television.

Annie isn’t the only big millennial woman eating spaghetti on TV. In a scene on Girls, Hannah grabs handfuls of noodles from a takeout box, dangling them into her open mouth. There is an element of watching this scene that feels relatable, especially for anyone who lives alone, but nothing about that moment is sexy or empowering. At its best, it’s a moment of comic relief born out of universality; at its worst, it’s Dunham’s self-ridiculing humor shaming herself — and other women — for eating without control while not thin.

This is far from the only moment when a woman eating sugary, greasy, and otherwise “bad” foods on television works as a boiler-plate scene representing rock bottom. In her essay “Why is it sad and lonely women who turn to chocolate?” Telegraph culture writer Rebecca Hawkes recalls similar moments in romantic comedies, like when Renee Zellweger devours chocolates under a blanket in Bridget Jones’s Diary, or when Sandra Bullock turns to ice cream in Miss Congeniality. “When you look at the trope in more detail, the implication is that eating chocolate is something ‘naughty,’” she writes. “It’s something that (calorie-counting, figure-obsessed) women shouldn’t be doing, but can’t help resorting to in moments of extreme trauma — or simply due to a comedic lack of discipline.” In her essay, Hawkes also brings up another classic plus-sized person comically shamed and punished for their gluttony: Augustus Gloop, the rotund little boy in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, presumably killed for wanting to eat some of the chocolate in a literal river of chocolate — as if anyone wouldn’t.

Ryan (Luka Jones) and Annie (Aidy Bryant)

Photo: Allyson Riggs/Shrill

But still, beyond little boys, beyond thin ladies, it’s plus-size women whose eating is most often used as a thematic example of a psychological and/or personal failure, whether it’s comical or supposedly tragic. “With any overweight, unruly woman, there’s always a tendency to pathologize their relationship with food,” says Kathleen Rowe Karlyn, author of The Unruly Woman: Gender and the Genres of Laughter. “[For] women who dive in to the quart of ice cream or the box of chocolate, food is a source of comfort because life is not giving them other types of comfort.”

If women get fat as a plot device, they’re often shown eating something like pizza, ice cream, chocolate, or other sweets — take, for example, Goldie Hawn gorging herself on frosting post-breakup in Death Becomes Her. If a character appears to get them out of a slump, a chicken wing might be yanked out of their hands. And they won’t reach personal fulfillment until they’re skinny again. Meanwhile, women who are thin and confident — whether it’s Drew Barrymore in Charlie’s Angels, or the titular Gilmore Girls — are free to eat as much as they please, to the delight of all who watch them.

Annie didn’t originally eat the spaghetti. It was made by Fran’s brother, Lamar (Akemnji Ndifornyen), who spends the third episode, “Pencil,” visiting his sister and her roommate. For most of the first few episodes, Annie is busy obsessing over a man (Luka Jones) who is so embarrassed by her that he sends her out the back door of his apartment so his roommates can’t see her. On their first date, she eats a salad. When she arrives home after Ryan has stood her up, Lamar and Fran offer her the spaghetti. She turns it down.

Lamar, a chef, spends the episode quietly fawning over Annie. When he arrives, he gives her a box of chocolate turtles, an elaborate reference to a memory from their past. He lights up when she enters the room. And later, when she comes back after choosing not to see Ryan, he admits that he likes her, and that he always did. After they have sex, Annie tiptoes downstairs to the kitchen, where she finds the pasta he made. The scene is romantic and almost sexy, in a totally subtle, maybe even unintentional way. He didn’t make the pasta for her, specifically, but it was made by him.

But beyond the romantic arc of Annie and Lamar, the scene’s impact comes directly from what it means for her, in her path to self-respect: she’s giving herself what she wants and deserves, on her own terms. And the bewildered delight in her face as she eats is so contagiously joyful that the context of her weight becomes irrelevant.

Annie (Aidy Bryant) and Lamar (Akemnji Ndifornyen).

Photo by: Allyson Riggs/Shrill

Beyond the men in her life, one of Annie’s most fraught relationships is with her mother, Vera (played by Julia Sweeney), who’s responsible for the Thin Menu meals. During a pivotal rant, when Annie describes the ways the people around her have made her size seem like a moral failing, she says, “At this point, I could be a licensed fucking nutritionist because I’ve literally been training for it since the fourth grade, which is the first time that my mom said that I should just eat a bowl of Special K and not the dinner that she made for everyone else so I might be a little bit smaller.” One of Annie’s most significant plot developments with her mother, when she pushes back against her health policing, starts with a meal of meatball subs with her father. And when the season ends, we leave Vera lying on the ground with a bag of chips, suggesting that Annie’s number one advice giver also needs respite from controlling everything.

“Whether they’re very curvy like Mae West or they’re slender, I think what we haven’t seen in a long time is the ability of women just to be seen enjoying food,” Karlyn says. “Food is enjoyable (to women), not because they’re neurotic, not because they’re crazy, not because they’re sex-obsessed, just because food is a natural pleasure of life.” That’s how Shrill treats food, but also most of life’s joys: dancing at a party, swimming in a pool, having sex, being honest. Counter to the ways television and movies have previously presented plus-size women, as victims of their own lack of self-control, Shrill shows how restrictive life as a plus-size woman can be, and how often that’s a direct result of their self control. Shrill seems to be advocating for more self-designated freedom for women of size — the freedom to live with abandon. As Annie says, lying in bed and taking charge, “I’ve got big titties and a fat ass — I make the rules.”

Brooke Jackson-Glidden is the editor of Eater Portland. Edited by: Greg Morabito

Eat, Drink, Watch.

Food entertainment news and streaming recommendations every Friday

By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy and European users agree to the data transfer policy.

Source: https://www.eater.com/2019/3/28/18284128/shrill-hulu-aidy-bryant-food-eating

[sparkvelvet75-blog]

‘Shrill’ Shreds Hollywood Stereotypes About How Women of Size Eat

The first time you see Annie, the protagonist of the new Hulu show Shrill, eating, her meal doesn’t look particularly pleasant. Played by SNL cast member Aidy Bryant, Annie grabs a plastic container from the fridge, opening it to reveal three white disks — supposedly pancakes — from a Tupperware labeled “Thin Menu.” While standing in her kitchen, she tries to break off a slab, puts it in her mouth, and wrinkles her nose in disgust. Her roommate, Fran (played by Lolly Adefope), walks by to witness the three doughy pucks, and says, “Good God.”

It’s not the only time Annie eats in her kitchen. Later in the series, Bryant opens a sealed container of leftover spaghetti, standing alone over an island near the sink. She twirls noodles around her fork, grinning in anticipation. She looks confident, blissed out, holding her hand under her chin as a noodle inches toward her lips. She scrunches her eyebrows and crinkles her nose, the perfect opposite of her look of disgust eating the Thin Meal pancakes. She nods and smiles while chewing, enjoying the moment.

The annals of TV are full of stories where women change themselves, from Mad Men’s Peggy Olsen to Eleanor Shellstrop in The Good Place. But Shrill, the six-episode adaptation of writer Lindy West’s memoir of the same name, is a different kind of “transformation” story, starring a woman of size. The show tells the story of Annie, a Portland-based calendar editor for an alt-weekly newspaper, trying to jump start her career, earn the love of Ryan, a painfully oblivious loser, and become a more honest, self-assured person. What Shrill is not is a story of body transformation, of a fat woman getting thin. Although it shows Annie eating diet meals and exercising with her mother, her real goal goes beyond the universal challenge of self-acceptance — she wants to feel powerful, as a woman of size and simply as a woman. She wants to demand respect from the people around her.

Those people often fat-shame Annie, whether it’s her obsessive online troll, her perpetually sneering editor, or an invasive personal trainer who eventually devolves into calling her a “fat bitch.” Still, Annie’s relationship with her body is more nuanced. Her insecurities are more often portrayed in physical details or unspoken interpersonal choices she makes because she feels that, in her words, “there’s a certain way that your body’s supposed to be and I’m not that.”

In media where a woman’s relationship with her body plays its own role, the eating scenes are telling. There are countless movies in which women devour ice cream during break-ups or lonely moments. And for years, when a person of size ate on screen, it was portrayed as comic relief, from Melissa McCarthy consuming a napkin in Spy to a cross-dressing Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live inhaling his friend’s french fries while asking, “Can I have some?”

Even in shows and movies celebrated for their representations of non-normative bodies, eating is reserved for emotional distress. In HBO’s Girls, Hannah Horvath (played by Lena Dunham) is often caught eating during low moments, like when she eats cake with her hands after her purse is stolen on the train. In Real Women Have Curves, it takes a conflict with her mother to get the protagonist, Ana (America Ferrera), to eat a bite of flan in a moment of overall positive defiance. Rarely do women of size get the opportunity to eat happily on screen without some tumult, some churning emotional hang-ups or interpersonal conflict. The exception, of course, is when people of size are shot eating healthy foods, like when the contestants on The Biggest Loser marvel over turkey burgers. But if a not-thin character is caught eating a cupcake, the audience is meant to laugh or cry at their expense.

When Annie eats so-called “indulgent” foods in Shrill, she’s not considered a failure, and it’s not used as a comic device. Instead, it’s often tied to a moment of personal or thematic triumph completely unrelated to her weight. By simply showing Annie eating the foods countless people love in a way that’s empowering, Shrill reinforces the idea that people, regardless of size, have the right to enjoy food in its entirety — not just salads and apples and other pious things, but rather the foods that are seen as permissibly comforting and luxurious for people of a smaller size. Like last year’s hit culinary travel show Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, Hulu’s new series rewrites the rules for who gets to enjoy food on television.

Annie isn’t the only big millennial woman eating spaghetti on TV. In a scene on Girls, Hannah grabs handfuls of noodles from a takeout box, dangling them into her open mouth. There is an element of watching this scene that feels relatable, especially for anyone who lives alone, but nothing about that moment is sexy or empowering. At its best, it’s a moment of comic relief born out of universality; at its worst, it’s Dunham’s self-ridiculing humor shaming herself — and other women — for eating without control while not thin.

This is far from the only moment when a woman eating sugary, greasy, and otherwise “bad” foods on television works as a boiler-plate scene representing rock bottom. In her essay “Why is it sad and lonely women who turn to chocolate?” Telegraph culture writer Rebecca Hawkes recalls similar moments in romantic comedies, like when Renee Zellweger devours chocolates under a blanket in Bridget Jones’s Diary, or when Sandra Bullock turns to ice cream in Miss Congeniality. “When you look at the trope in more detail, the implication is that eating chocolate is something ‘naughty,’” she writes. “It’s something that (calorie-counting, figure-obsessed) women shouldn’t be doing, but can’t help resorting to in moments of extreme trauma — or simply due to a comedic lack of discipline.” In her essay, Hawkes also brings up another classic plus-sized person comically shamed and punished for their gluttony: Augustus Gloop, the rotund little boy in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, presumably killed for wanting to eat some of the chocolate in a literal river of chocolate — as if anyone wouldn’t.

Ryan (Luka Jones) and Annie (Aidy Bryant)

Photo: Allyson Riggs/Shrill

But still, beyond little boys, beyond thin ladies, it’s plus-size women whose eating is most often used as a thematic example of a psychological and/or personal failure, whether it’s comical or supposedly tragic. “With any overweight, unruly woman, there’s always a tendency to pathologize their relationship with food,” says Kathleen Rowe Karlyn, author of The Unruly Woman: Gender and the Genres of Laughter. “[For] women who dive in to the quart of ice cream or the box of chocolate, food is a source of comfort because life is not giving them other types of comfort.”

If women get fat as a plot device, they’re often shown eating something like pizza, ice cream, chocolate, or other sweets — take, for example, Goldie Hawn gorging herself on frosting post-breakup in Death Becomes Her. If a character appears to get them out of a slump, a chicken wing might be yanked out of their hands. And they won’t reach personal fulfillment until they’re skinny again. Meanwhile, women who are thin and confident — whether it’s Drew Barrymore in Charlie’s Angels, or the titular Gilmore Girls — are free to eat as much as they please, to the delight of all who watch them.

Annie didn’t originally eat the spaghetti. It was made by Fran’s brother, Lamar (Akemnji Ndifornyen), who spends the third episode, “Pencil,” visiting his sister and her roommate. For most of the first few episodes, Annie is busy obsessing over a man (Luka Jones) who is so embarrassed by her that he sends her out the back door of his apartment so his roommates can’t see her. On their first date, she eats a salad. When she arrives home after Ryan has stood her up, Lamar and Fran offer her the spaghetti. She turns it down.

Lamar, a chef, spends the episode quietly fawning over Annie. When he arrives, he gives her a box of chocolate turtles, an elaborate reference to a memory from their past. He lights up when she enters the room. And later, when she comes back after choosing not to see Ryan, he admits that he likes her, and that he always did. After they have sex, Annie tiptoes downstairs to the kitchen, where she finds the pasta he made. The scene is romantic and almost sexy, in a totally subtle, maybe even unintentional way. He didn’t make the pasta for her, specifically, but it was made by him.

But beyond the romantic arc of Annie and Lamar, the scene’s impact comes directly from what it means for her, in her path to self-respect: she’s giving herself what she wants and deserves, on her own terms. And the bewildered delight in her face as she eats is so contagiously joyful that the context of her weight becomes irrelevant.

Annie (Aidy Bryant) and Lamar (Akemnji Ndifornyen).

Photo by: Allyson Riggs/Shrill

Beyond the men in her life, one of Annie’s most fraught relationships is with her mother, Vera (played by Julia Sweeney), who’s responsible for the Thin Menu meals. During a pivotal rant, when Annie describes the ways the people around her have made her size seem like a moral failing, she says, “At this point, I could be a licensed fucking nutritionist because I’ve literally been training for it since the fourth grade, which is the first time that my mom said that I should just eat a bowl of Special K and not the dinner that she made for everyone else so I might be a little bit smaller.” One of Annie’s most significant plot developments with her mother, when she pushes back against her health policing, starts with a meal of meatball subs with her father. And when the season ends, we leave Vera lying on the ground with a bag of chips, suggesting that Annie’s number one advice giver also needs respite from controlling everything.

“Whether they’re very curvy like Mae West or they’re slender, I think what we haven’t seen in a long time is the ability of women just to be seen enjoying food,” Karlyn says. “Food is enjoyable (to women), not because they’re neurotic, not because they’re crazy, not because they’re sex-obsessed, just because food is a natural pleasure of life.” That’s how Shrill treats food, but also most of life’s joys: dancing at a party, swimming in a pool, having sex, being honest. Counter to the ways television and movies have previously presented plus-size women, as victims of their own lack of self-control, Shrill shows how restrictive life as a plus-size woman can be, and how often that’s a direct result of their self control. Shrill seems to be advocating for more self-designated freedom for women of size — the freedom to live with abandon. As Annie says, lying in bed and taking charge, “I’ve got big titties and a fat ass — I make the rules.”

Brooke Jackson-Glidden is the editor of Eater Portland. Edited by: Greg Morabito

Eat, Drink, Watch.

Food entertainment news and streaming recommendations every Friday

By signing up, you agree to our Privacy Policy and European users agree to the data transfer policy.

Source: https://www.eater.com/2019/3/28/18284128/shrill-hulu-aidy-bryant-food-eating

[butaneplate02-blog]

‘Shrill’ Shreds Hollywood Stereotypes About How Women of Size Eat

The first time you see Annie, the protagonist of the new Hulu show Shrill, eating, her meal doesn’t look particularly pleasant. Played by SNL cast member Aidy Bryant, Annie grabs a plastic container from the fridge, opening it to reveal three white disks — supposedly pancakes — from a Tupperware labeled “Thin Menu.” While standing in her kitchen, she tries to break off a slab, puts it in her mouth, and wrinkles her nose in disgust. Her roommate, Fran (played by Lolly Adefope), walks by to witness the three doughy pucks, and says, “Good God.”

It’s not the only time Annie eats in her kitchen. Later in the series, Bryant opens a sealed container of leftover spaghetti, standing alone over an island near the sink. She twirls noodles around her fork, grinning in anticipation. She looks confident, blissed out, holding her hand under her chin as a noodle inches toward her lips. She scrunches her eyebrows and crinkles her nose, the perfect opposite of her look of disgust eating the Thin Meal pancakes. She nods and smiles while chewing, enjoying the moment.

The annals of TV are full of stories where women change themselves, from Mad Men’s Peggy Olsen to Eleanor Shellstrop in The Good Place. But Shrill, the six-episode adaptation of writer Lindy West’s memoir of the same name, is a different kind of “transformation” story, starring a woman of size. The show tells the story of Annie, a Portland-based calendar editor for an alt-weekly newspaper, trying to jump start her career, earn the love of Ryan, a painfully oblivious loser, and become a more honest, self-assured person. What Shrill is not is a story of body transformation, of a fat woman getting thin. Although it shows Annie eating diet meals and exercising with her mother, her real goal goes beyond the universal challenge of self-acceptance — she wants to feel powerful, as a woman of size and simply as a woman. She wants to demand respect from the people around her.

Those people often fat-shame Annie, whether it’s her obsessive online troll, her perpetually sneering editor, or an invasive personal trainer who eventually devolves into calling her a “fat bitch.” Still, Annie’s relationship with her body is more nuanced. Her insecurities are more often portrayed in physical details or unspoken interpersonal choices she makes because she feels that, in her words, “there’s a certain way that your body’s supposed to be and I’m not that.”

In media where a woman’s relationship with her body plays its own role, the eating scenes are telling. There are countless movies in which women devour ice cream during break-ups or lonely moments. And for years, when a person of size ate on screen, it was portrayed as comic relief, from Melissa McCarthy consuming a napkin in Spy to a cross-dressing Chris Farley on Saturday Night Live inhaling his friend’s french fries while asking, “Can I have some?”

Even in shows and movies celebrated for their representations of non-normative bodies, eating is reserved for emotional distress. In HBO’s Girls, Hannah Horvath (played by Lena Dunham) is often caught eating during low moments, like when she eats cake with her hands after her purse is stolen on the train. In Real Women Have Curves, it takes a conflict with her mother to get the protagonist, Ana (America Ferrera), to eat a bite of flan in a moment of overall positive defiance. Rarely do women of size get the opportunity to eat happily on screen without some tumult, some churning emotional hang-ups or interpersonal conflict. The exception, of course, is when people of size are shot eating healthy foods, like when the contestants on The Biggest Loser marvel over turkey burgers. But if a not-thin character is caught eating a cupcake, the audience is meant to laugh or cry at their expense.

When Annie eats so-called “indulgent” foods in Shrill, she’s not considered a failure, and it’s not used as a comic device. Instead, it’s often tied to a moment of personal or thematic triumph completely unrelated to her weight. By simply showing Annie eating the foods countless people love in a way that’s empowering, Shrill reinforces the idea that people, regardless of size, have the right to enjoy food in its entirety — not just salads and apples and other pious things, but rather the foods that are seen as permissibly comforting and luxurious for people of a smaller size. Like last year’s hit culinary travel show Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, Hulu’s new series rewrites the rules for who gets to enjoy food on television.

Annie isn’t the only big millennial woman eating spaghetti on TV. In a scene on Girls, Hannah grabs handfuls of noodles from a takeout box, dangling them into her open mouth. There is an element of watching this scene that feels relatable, especially for anyone who lives alone, but nothing about that moment is sexy or empowering. At its best, it’s a moment of comic relief born out of universality; at its worst, it’s Dunham’s self-ridiculing humor shaming herself — and other women — for eating without control while not thin.

This is far from the only moment when a woman eating sugary, greasy, and otherwise “bad” foods on television works as a boiler-plate scene representing rock bottom. In her essay “Why is it sad and lonely women who turn to chocolate?” Telegraph culture writer Rebecca Hawkes recalls similar moments in romantic comedies, like when Renee Zellweger devours chocolates under a blanket in Bridget Jones’s Diary, or when Sandra Bullock turns to ice cream in Miss Congeniality. “When you look at the trope in more detail, the implication is that eating chocolate is something ‘naughty,’” she writes. “It’s something that (calorie-counting, figure-obsessed) women shouldn’t be doing, but can’t help resorting to in moments of extreme trauma — or simply due to a comedic lack of discipline.” In her essay, Hawkes also brings up another classic plus-sized person comically shamed and punished for their gluttony: Augustus Gloop, the rotund little boy in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, presumably killed for wanting to eat some of the chocolate in a literal river of chocolate — as if anyone wouldn’t.

Ryan (Luka Jones) and Annie (Aidy Bryant)

Photo: Allyson Riggs/Shrill

But still, beyond little boys, beyond thin ladies, it’s plus-size women whose eating is most often used as a thematic example of a psychological and/or personal failure, whether it’s comical or supposedly tragic. “With any overweight, unruly woman, there’s always a tendency to pathologize their relationship with food,” says Kathleen Rowe Karlyn, author of The Unruly Woman: Gender and the Genres of Laughter. “[For] women who dive in to the quart of ice cream or the box of chocolate, food is a source of comfort because life is not giving them other types of comfort.”

If women get fat as a plot device, they’re often shown eating something like pizza, ice cream, chocolate, or other sweets — take, for example, Goldie Hawn gorging herself on frosting post-breakup in Death Becomes Her. If a character appears to get them out of a slump, a chicken wing might be yanked out of their hands. And they won’t reach personal fulfillment until they’re skinny again. Meanwhile, women who are thin and confident — whether it’s Drew Barrymore in Charlie’s Angels, or the titular Gilmore Girls — are free to eat as much as they please, to the delight of all who watch them.

Annie didn’t originally eat the spaghetti. It was made by Fran’s brother, Lamar (Akemnji Ndifornyen), who spends the third episode, “Pencil,” visiting his sister and her roommate. For most of the first few episodes, Annie is busy obsessing over a man (Luka Jones) who is so embarrassed by her that he sends her out the back door of his apartment so his roommates can’t see her. On their first date, she eats a salad. When she arrives home after Ryan has stood her up, Lamar and Fran offer her the spaghetti. She turns it down.

Lamar, a chef, spends the episode quietly fawning over Annie. When he arrives, he gives her a box of chocolate turtles, an elaborate reference to a memory from their past. He lights up when she enters the room. And later, when she comes back after choosing not to see Ryan, he admits that he likes her, and that he always did. After they have sex, Annie tiptoes downstairs to the kitchen, where she finds the pasta he made. The scene is romantic and almost sexy, in a totally subtle, maybe even unintentional way. He didn’t make the pasta for her, specifically, but it was made by him.

But beyond the romantic arc of Annie and Lamar, the scene’s impact comes directly from what it means for her, in her path to self-respect: she’s giving herself what she wants and deserves, on her own terms. And the bewildered delight in her face as she eats is so contagiously joyful that the context of her weight becomes irrelevant.

Annie (Aidy Bryant) and Lamar (Akemnji Ndifornyen).

Photo by: Allyson Riggs/Shrill

Beyond the men in her life, one of Annie’s most fraught relationships is with her mother, Vera (played by Julia Sweeney), who’s responsible for the Thin Menu meals. During a pivotal rant, when Annie describes the ways the people around her have made her size seem like a moral failing, she says, “At this point, I could be a licensed fucking nutritionist because I’ve literally been training for it since the fourth grade, which is the first time that my mom said that I should just eat a bowl of Special K and not the dinner that she made for everyone else so I might be a little bit smaller.” One of Annie’s most significant plot developments with her mother, when she pushes back against her health policing, starts with a meal of meatball subs with her father. And when the season ends, we leave Vera lying on the ground with a bag of chips, suggesting that Annie’s number one advice giver also needs respite from controlling everything.

“Whether they’re very curvy like Mae West or they’re slender, I think what we haven’t seen in a long time is the ability of women just to be seen enjoying food,” Karlyn says. “Food is enjoyable (to women), not because they’re neurotic, not because they’re crazy, not because they’re sex-obsessed, just because food is a natural pleasure of life.” That’s how Shrill treats food, but also most of life’s joys: dancing at a party, swimming in a pool, having sex, being honest. Counter to the ways television and movies have previously presented plus-size women, as victims of their own lack of self-control, Shrill shows how restrictive life as a plus-size woman can be, and how often that’s a direct result of their self control. Shrill seems to be advocating for more self-designated freedom for women of size — the freedom to live with abandon. As Annie says, lying in bed and taking charge, “I’ve got big titties and a fat ass — I make the rules.”

Brooke Jackson-Glidden is the editor of Eater Portland. Edited by: Greg Morabito

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Source: https://www.eater.com/2019/3/28/18284128/shrill-hulu-aidy-bryant-food-eating