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amysteryspot · 4 years ago

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Don’t know how to stop - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

Prompts: 40. “I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”; 69. “What do you want me to say?” + "Don't Know How to Stop" by Halestorm

Requested by: @sighonahurricane

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Changretta!Reader

Summary: “Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

Warnings: Smut/NSFW/+18, mentions of violence, swearing, there's a very brief implied reference to rape

Word Count: 2510

A/N: Not even going to try and find an excuse as to why this is longer than it should be, all you need to know is that I was in the mood. I absolutely loved to write this, but I'm feeling anxious about what you all are going to think of it. Really hope that you like it. For reference, reader is a Changretta and this is set between season three/four. Feedback is very much appreciated as always.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname

English is not my first language and this wasn’t proofread by a beta.

If you want to be tagged in my stories, just send me a message.

She had been the one that faced the Devil. Down on her knees in front of him, begging for her father’s life as he held the knife to her throat.

“One life for another,” she had offered, fingers curling into the fabric of his waistcoat. “You can have me. Do anything you want with me, just spare his life.”

The deal had been made that night, for reasons that Tommy still couldn’t understand, even after all these years. He wasn’t even sure if he had really considered the possibility of killing her, despite the rage clouding his mind at the time.

Vicente walked free, dragged out of the room in tears, at the expense of leaving his daughter behind, a prisoner of war.

Tommy confined her to the guest wing of Arrow House. He didn’t want to see her and be reminded of the reason why he slept in an empty bed now. It was easier to ignore her existence if he didn’t have to see her every day.

His son had other plans though. Somehow, Charlie found a way to escape his nanny and ended up finding (Y/N). Tommy knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into his son’s room to find it empty. It was safe to say that he was seeing red as he climbed down the stairs, calling for Mary and asking about the whereabouts of the nanny and the baby.

The door to her room hit the wall with a loud bang that startled both the women in there and Charlie, who was all curled up in (Y/N)’s arms.

Tommy looked at the nanny, ordering, “Take Charlie back to his room.”

She did as commanded, quickly, even though the boy didn’t seem very pleased with the idea of leaving (Y/N)’s arms. Tommy walked straight up to her, grabbing her tightly by the jaw, and almost lifting her from the ground.

“You don’t get to talk to him. You don’t even look his way or else…”

“Or what, Thomas?” she interrupted him, defiance in her eyes as she glared back at him. “We both know you won’t kill me. You want revenge, want to see me suffer or you would have already killed me that night at the warehouse, in front of my father.”

His hold on her had gone lax but he still kept his hands on her.

(Y/N) continued, “The boy came to me, I’m not going to blame a child for sins that aren’t his.”

Tommy observed her in silence for a minute. The rise and fall from her chest, the way both her hands were circling his wrist, how she didn’t show any sign of fear even though the imbalance in power was evident. He let her go, leaving the room without another world, only to be haunted by the image of her in his dreams.

“Are you going to kill her or fuck her?” Polly’s voice got him out of his trance.

He looked up at her but did not answer, because he didn’t know what to say.

Polly continued, “Because these are the two available options with you. You are either going to kill her or you’re going to fuck her. Considering that you are mourning, I would bet on the second, or you would have killed her already.”

She took a drag from her cigarette, taking her time in exhaling the smoke, before saying, “You men start wars because of your uncontrollable ego, and in the end, is always the women who pay the price of it.”

In the end, both Polly and (Y/N) were right. He didn’t kill her. His aunt’s words have made him realize something better to put a definitive end to this war between them and the Italians: a wedding. What could be worse for Vicente than having to marry his only daughter to a Shelby?

After a year of mourning, Thomas married (Y/N) Changretta, sealing the pact she had made with him for good.

They slept in separate rooms at opposite ends of the corridor. Since she was his wife now, Tommy had to get used to the idea that Charlie would have to be around her, or people would get suspicious. He had never been one to care about what people thought of him, but sometimes it was easier to maintain the appearances than to go against the norm.

If Tommy was worried about having to see her more often now that they shared the same corridor, he was wrong. (Y/N) was like a ghost. He rarely saw her outside of brief encounters whenever he was at home at the time the meals were served, the occasions when he found her in Charles’s nursery, or when she had to accompany at events.

On those occasions, (Y/N) was the image of a perfect, dutiful wife. She was well mannered and educated, making it easy for her to hold conversations with the most different people. Her charm and beauty helped her, and Tommy was surprised at how good she was at making people believe that their marriage wasn’t a sham.

His family and the staff of the house knew better though—all (Y/N) was was spoils of war.

They were surprisingly civil to each other, posing for the public eye as the perfect couple and avoiding each other like the plague at home. When they met at home, occasionally, a polite conversation could end up in a fight. Except for that night when Tommy found Charlie in (Y/N)’s arms for the first time, their arguments never turned physical.

Until one night when Tommy was especially pissed off by something business-related and ended up pressing her up between his body and the wall of her the drawing-room.

(Y/N) had never backed away from a fight, never showed any signs that she was afraid of him. But that night, that night the way she flinched when he touched her and the look of pure horror on her face as she looked at him, made Tommy let go of her immediately.

As he watched her ran away from the room, Tommy realized what must have crossed her mind, and the mere thought of it made his blood boil. The glass of whiskey that was on his desk exploded in a hundred pieces on the wall, before he retired to his room, plagued by the sight of her running away from him.

He tried to be more careful around her after that, always seeking some kind of consent from her before getting too close or touching her. Tommy would never force her to have sex with him, not for revenge, not because she was his wife.

They crossed the line from civil to friendly at some point, maybe after she sassed him because of Lizzie in front of the whole family, making everyone laugh, but he was not sure. What he did know for sure was that he started to see her as more than someone who was there because of a casualty of war somewhere along the way.

It was hard to ignore her after that. It was hard to ignore the beautiful woman navigating the corridors of his house, playing with his son in the garden, handling the staff, helping with the business. It was hard to ignore the woman he tried to avoid for so long, the woman he didn’t want to acknowledge.

He wasn’t sure at what point he had started to consider the idea to fuck her, it just happened. One night, after they arrived from a gala, fighting about something that Tommy didn’t even remember anymore, they fucked against the vanity in her room.

After that first time, it all went downhill. It was like getting high for the first time and then not being able to control the need to take another hit. (Y/N) was warm, soft, willing, and available, and Tommy decided that he wasn’t going to deny himself or his needs searching for other options when he had her right there.

Things escalated quickly and they developed some kind of silent agreement, another deal. During the day, they acted like old acquaintances, respectful, and civil to each other. But after dawn, they would seek each other out, drowning together in a desire that seemed to have no end.

That had been a long time ago, so long that he didn’t remember how it was not to have her around. Long enough for some unrequited feelings to show up.

He did his best to ignore the guy talking to (Y/N). They were hosting a dinner at Arrow House, the man talking to her was some rich bachelor from London that was being a little too friendly to Tommy’s liking. He downed the whiskey in one gulp and noticed Polly watching him, but his attention is quickly drawn back to his wife.

At the end of the night, after all the guests either left for home or to the guest wing and all that is left are the Shelby’s at the parlour, Tommy revels in the feeling of (Y/N) sitting beside him, reclining against the arm he rested behind her shoulders. From the other side of the room, Polly looks at him and smiles, like she knows something that he doesn’t.

It happens the week after the gala. They’re both getting ready for a family meeting. His room became their room, unofficially, because her things were scattered all over the place—her perfume and jewelry on the bedside table, dresses on the wardrobe, lingerie on the drawers, even the sheets smelled like her.

“Tommy,” she exclaimed in a reprehensive tone, as he pressed himself against her back, arms sneaking around her waist and preventing her from running away as his lips trailed down her neck. “What are you doing?”

“Giving some very due attention to my wife,” he answered, casually, walking them both closer to the bed.

“In broad daylight?” (Y/N) gasped, something between surprise and a protest, although she was doing very little to resist his advances.

“Want to see you,” he stated, before turning her around to kiss her.

“Your family is downstairs waiting for you,” she warned against his lips, breath uneven and fingers clutching onto his shirt.

“My family is downstairs waiting for us,” he corrected, nibbling her earlobe and smiling because of the sound she made. “Let them wait. They’re probably too occupied drinking, anyway.”

Any pretense of resistance from her part vanished when Tommy started to unbutton her dress. He was desperate to feel her skin against his, to taste her, and be inside of her. When they were both finally naked and pressed against each other on the bed, it felt like some kind of miracle.

Tommy drank her in, from the blush on her cheeks to the way her toes curled when he touched a sensitive spot on her body. All the scars, the birthmarks, the dips and curves, the softness of her skin, the heady taste of her on his tongue, and how wet she could get for him. He wanted it all, needed all of her.

He was tired to fight against it, tired of pretending that this feeling gnawing on his chest was something else.

“(Y/N/N),” he breaths against her skin, the feeling of her short nails scratching his back driving him crazy. “I love you.”

Her eyes open to stare right into his, something between surprise and uncertainty on her features. Tommy kisses her, gripping her tights a little harder to dive deeper into her.

The whimper of need that comes out of her lips makes him wild. All he can think about is how she feels, how good she feels, how right she feels. Here, underneath him, crying out his name, welcoming him into her body, scratching his back as the both of them get lost in pure pleasure.

All it takes to make her unravel is for him to press the engorged nub at the apex of her thighs. (Y/N) comes undone and brings him down with her, just a few trusts later, her walls milking him from his orgasm, his seed taking place deep inside of her for the first time in a long time because they were too lost in each other to care.

One more time they pretended, dressing in silence and walking down the stairs as nothing more than acquaintances. If his family suspected of something, they didn’t show it.

The meeting went uneventful, as planned. (Y/N) found a way to sneak out of the parlour before him and when Tommy went upstairs to his room—their room—he found it empty.

Sighing, he made his way to the other end of the corridor. He knocked one time, before letting himself in. (Y/N) was sitting in front of the vanity, taking the pins out of her hair. She was already dressed to sleep, the silk nightgown revealing her legs and a bit of the lace underneath. Their gazes met through the mirror as Tommy closes the door behind him.

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I love you.”

(Y/N) takes a deep breath, still not turning around to face him.

“Tom…”

“We’ve been dancing around this for too long, it’s time to face it.”

She sighs, a hand running through her face as she says, “What do you want me to say?”

He is in her in a heartbeat, pulling her up and pressing her against the vanity, just like the first time they had sex. Tommy takes her face in between both of his hands, nose brushing against her as he mumbles against her lips,

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Tom, I can’t. We can’t,” she protests, weekly, eyes closed and hands holding his wrists.

“A little too late for that because I don’t know how to stop this.”

“Your brother blinder my brother, Tommy. Your wife was killed because of that. I’m only here because you wanted my father that and I made a bargain with you. How this is supposed to work. What people will think?”

“Fuck what people think. We are already married, (Y/N). What happened, happened. We can’t change it. But this thing between us, this thing is real. I’ve denied myself that long enough, not going to keep pretending anymore. I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time now and I know, I know that you feel the same, so stop fighting against it and say it.”

Tommy’s lips brush against hers as he repeats himself, half plea, half command, “Say it.”

“I love you,” she whispers, eyes closed tightly as if the words will be less real if she can’t see him.

“Say it again,” he commands, nose bumping into hers while his thumbs caress her cheeks.

“I love you.”

“Again,” the sound is music to his ears and Tommy just can’t get enough of it.

(Y/N) opens her eyes, looks him in the eye, and professes, “I love you, Thomas Shelby.”

He smiles, for what feels like the first time in years, and confesses, “I love you too, Mrs. Shelby.”

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771 @internalmess3 @theshelbyclan @giowritess @captivatedbycillianmurphy

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

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Protective Service

John Wick x Reader (A/n-Why must I always make things complicated?)

Warnings- Language (I don’t usually use language warnings, but its a lot this time), Violence, Bloodshed, Murder, brief mentions of SMUT (it’s not what you’re thinking.)

Masterlist Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Crime and Punishment

It was Saturday, and at all costs, Y/n usually preferred to keep her weekends to herself and leave her business, whatever it was, for Monday. Because of this, John was usually off on weekends too, though, he did still stay at her penthouse just in case, he never said of what, but Y/n knew. She’d always known, that was why she’d hired him. Nonetheless, while hitmen and mercenaries didn’t take weekends off, Y/n did, unless, of course, pressing matters arose.

“What?” Y/n’s jaw clenched as she tried to keep her rage at bay, though, Donavan knew her well enough to be able to tell that she was a bit more than pissed off. Someone was going to die that day, it was just a question of who. With the book laid out before her, Y/n scanned the page, one, two and then three times, just to make sure she hadn’t read anything wrong, though, she rarely made mistakes. She was hardly perfect though, calculated was more like it. “Who the hell let this slip?” Standing abruptly, Y/n slammed the leather bound book shut with a thud.

“My guess is someone in accounting,” He stood before the sleek, white desk in her white walled, airy home office, his hands clasped in front of him, not in the slightest phased by her behavior, "But, it could be one of the guys you’ve got working in stock. What do you want to do about it?”

Moving out from behind the desk, Y/n slipped her hands coolly into the pockets of her grey, soft, paper bag pants, sauntering over to the window that overlooked the rest of Hudson Yards, the glass constituting the other towering complexes reflecting the afternoon sun beautifully and way down below, the people bustling were reduced to specs on the paved roads and sidewalks. “I want to find this person, and have them dealt with, today,” she emphasized the final word, before turning back to Donavan, finding his dark, steely grey eyes fixed on her, his sharp jaw set stiffly. When she got closer, close enough to see the hints of grey showing up near his sideburns and in his five o’clock shadow, he stood a little straighter and Y/n could feel the muscles in his biceps rippling beneath his black sweater when her delicate fingers trailed up to his shoulder, “Will that be a problem, Donny?”

Y/n was the only person that ever called him that and Donavan was the only person privy to some semblance of non-familial affection from her. It was a consequence of being reared so closely; from the minute she was brought home in the arms of her mother, Donavan, at just ten, was taught that she was his to look over, that it would be her before him at all costs. Not looking down at her, he simply eyed her movements through his peripheral, quirking a rare smirk, “No ma’am. The car’s downstairs, ready when you are.”

Her tongue darted out quickly, moistening her lips as she tried to suppress her own mirth, “Good, I’ll go tell John and we should be off within the hour.”

“Forgive my…..boldness, Vila,” Donavan interrupted nonchalantly just as Y/n neared the door, her hand just about to close in over the ornate knob, only continuing when she spared him a lingering backwards glance, “I’ve been meaning to ask; are the services of Mr. Wick really necessary? You know I would lay my life down for you, at any time, no question.”

Nodding slowly, Y/n’s brows knitted, of course, she could tell from the moment they’d met that Donavan had is own reservations about John as her security detail, he wasn’t the trusting type, and the older man had only served to put him on edge, though, for the life of her, Y/n couldn’t readily see why. She liked John as much as her jagged edged personality would afford, and even if she wouldn’t call him a friend, she hardly called anyone that, Y/n had started to see him as indispensable. “Mhm,” she hummed, not quite sure of why he’d chosen that moment to voice his concerns, “But that’s not your job,” she turned to leave again.

“I know that,” he insisted and she paused again, the first inkling of irritation seeping upwards, “But I would. And I just don’t think we need an unnecessary expense on our payroll, especially one…...that expensive.”

“Are you doubting my judgement, Donavan?” There was a sternness in her tone, one she rarely took with him though, it was enough to urge him to back off, and if he didn’t know her so well, he might have.

“I’m not,” he reassured, folding his muscled arms across his broad chest, “I would never, it’s just……”

“Don’t,” briskly, Y/n stopped him before he could find the words, “Never, ever, question my decisions, you know I don’t like it,” she warned firmly, “And as for John, he’s needed, and he stays, and if you think of questioning his employment here again, then I suggest you keep it to yourself? Got it?”

And then, before Y/n could hear Donavan’s response, she’d stalked out of the room, walking with purpose, down the hall, stopping at John’s room; the bedroom nearest to hers before heading there. As usual, it only took two knocks before John was pulling the tall door open. He’d been like that since moving in, always there when she called, never letting her wait a moment more than necessary. It wasn’t really obedience though, John had proven to be capable of following only his own rules, never needing her permission before acting and for what it was worth, she didn’t even think that ‘obedient’ was in his dictionary anyway. Instead, he was, as the legend had preached, a man of focus and commitment, and after only knowing him for just over a month, Y/n was beginning to think that there was very little that could successfully stand in the man’s way, if anything at all.

Another thing about John was that he was always impeccably dressed, persistently attired in a selection from his armory of Italian tailored, bulletproof suits. Never with a hair out of place and most definitely never looking as if she’d caught him off guard. Well, almost never. Except for that very Saturday, when they were both expected to be off and she’d broken habit and knocked on his door instead. “John,” Y/n didn’t think she could help if she tried when her eyes landed on his chest instead of his stoic expression. His torso, though very faintly defined, boasted how much an excellent shape he was in; the slight definition coming from years in the field as opposed to hours put in at the gym while scars of varying ages littered his skin. Hints of dark ink peeked out from his back while the bold cross on his shoulder was far more visible. Y/n had never seen his tattoos, but in that moment, she wanted to.

“See something interesting?” John broke her unconscious trance, folding his bulky arms and skewing her view.

Clearing her throat, Y/n shook her head, dismissing the feeling that had plumed in her chest at the sight of him so sparsely dressed in nothing but a pair of worn blue jeans, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She rolled her eyes dismissively, “There’s a situation at the club house, we’re leaving within the hour.”

John never asked questions, and he didn't even protest that she'd been interrupting whatever he was doing, instead, he just held his head up, not even nodding as he offered a firm, "Okay," before shutting the door, leaving Y/n staring at the heavy white oak before swallowing her annoyance and turning to stalk off.

When the car pulled up in front of the warehouse, John and Donavan, who’d sat on either side of Y/n, got out before her, and by the time he'd had jogged around to the other side to help her out, John had already offered his hand. “I was coming to get you,” he grumbled, straightening the blazer he’d shrugged on over his sweater, moving to open the building’s front door for her.

“I don’t need anyone to get me,” Y/n scolded quietly, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous behavior as she stepped in front of John, who hung back for a couple minutes just to confirm that no other cars had lingered at the front gate. By then, he’d devised a working idea of the vehicles that usually moved in and out of the compound and who they were driven by, how he’d committed that and everything else to memory was still a mystery to Y/n. Satisfied, he followed Y/n into the building, eyeing everyone closely as they ascended the spiral steps, stopping only when they were raised over everyone else.

Y/n gripped the cool metal railing, her eyes scanning the floor as a chatter ran through the workers. The place wasn’t ordinarily quiet, but that mummer wasn’t friendly banter, it was fright; they weren’t used to seeing her there on a weekend, and if Y/n was there on a Saturday afternoon, it meant that something was sorely wrong. For a moment more, she spectated, trying to see who seemed the most nervous, inconsistencies like the one Donavan had brought to her couldn’t possibly be accidental, no, someone was stealing from her, and Y/n wasn’t going to stand for it.

Ready to address them, she cleared her throat loudly, rousing attention and straightening her back to seem more intimidating when her underlings looked up at her, flanked by John on her left and Donavan, both eerily silent while her enforcers stood a couple feet behind, lurking in the shadows “It has been brought to my attention that there are some…..discrepancies in our books,” and when some gasped, others just looked on with awe, Y/n continued, “Twenty five thousand dollars is missing. And I know that twenty five fucking thousand doesn’t just vanish; this was not a mistake. Which means that it's gone on purpose, taken on purpose.” The gathered workers mumbled amongst themselves, looking around to see if someone would be brave enough to fess up, “And I understand that it's money,” she chuckled dryly, “And it's probably long, long gone. But whoever took it, isn’t, and if you think that I’m just gonna let this go, then you don’t really know me. So why don’t you, whoever the fuck you are, come forward and make both our lives easier? If you don’t, I will find you, and it will hurt when I do.”

Again, the workers chattered softly, probably nudging each other to say who’d done it if they knew. Though, minutes ticked by and nothing happened, and all the noise did was serve to irritate Y/n’s already sour mood, causing her to squeeze the railing tightly and hissing an exhale before, “Alight!” She snapped, “You want to make this hard? That’s fine,” Y/n reached behind her, snapping manicured fingers, “Boys,” she purred menacingly, “Get down there and find this fucker, and you do, bring ‘em to our playroom.”

From the minute the hasty order left her deep red lips, and her bulky henchmen started filtering out towards the steps, a man pushed through the crowd, making a break for the door. Though, his luck was as good as any common criminal, and fearing her to the point of faultless loyalty, some of her workers blocked him, a few others grabbing him before he could fight through, handing him over to Y/n’s men when they got through the thick of it. Even as they dragged him, the man screamed bloody murder, which in all fairness, was more than likely what he would be facing in just a bit. “Donny,” Y/n spoke without looking in his direction, and he simply hummed in response, “Why don’t you get our toys ready?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he nodded, sparing her one last glance before leaving her alone with John, still looking on at everyone below.

“What do you think?” She tilted her head, leaning in discreetly, “Anyone we should be looking out for, besides our little rat over there,” Y/n nudged to the young man being dragged up the steps. He was young, one of her newer hires. She hadn’t trusted him completely when he sought her out, seeking employment, but he was no more than twenty three and before, she was sure that she could mold him to suit, maybe make something of the kid. But betrayal wasn’t something Y/n fared well with, and second chances were rare in their line of work.

Slowly, John scanned the crowd, which had just started to disperse, though she was sure that by then, he’d already done the same thing well over three times. John was exceptionally thorough, “No,” he kept his gaze trained forward, “If it makes you feel better, I can get down there, shake up a few people, make sure.”

“It doesn’t make me feel anything,” she huffed, turning to walk away, gesturing for John to come with her. Y/n hated the mere thought that John had started to see her as vulnerable, someone who was afraid of the people that worked at her feet, even if the thought of a betrayal that could cost far more than currency scared her, she wasn’t going to show it. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone.

“You know I can’t protect you if you don’t tell me what’s scaring you,” John quipped, his words, as usual, were few, but effective, making Y/n come to an abrupt halt just as they were about to turn the corner and head down a dim hallway.

“I never said I was scared,” she turned to face him, her phlegmatic expression matching his. Y/n hadn’t expected John to be that close when she spun, and his proximity almost had her façade faltering, but she persisted, and for a moment, it seemed to be a war of stares, who ever looked away would be deemed a loser. Except, neither of them looked away and the longer their eyes locked, the more exposed she felt, like he was seeing her for who she really was, the person behind the hardened shell, who was scared that she was digging her own grave and destroying the empire her linage had afforded her. Y/n wasn’t sure if being seen, by at least one person, was comforting or frightening. On one hand, she sometimes tired of keeping up appearances, while on the other, it worried her that the tough, uncrackable disposition was all she had. If she softened, who was going to listen to a pretty girl half their age?

“Not today you didn't,” his low baritone finally broke the silence, and unconsciously, John stepped forward, almost feeling as if she’d been reeling him in with those siren eyes. Those four little words were all he needed to put a chip in her exterior, to remind them both of the girl she’d been when they met at the Continental. The one whose perfume hung in the air even after she left and had left him with mixed feelings since they’d met. When he’d first started working there, he’d heard what they called her; Vila, and it was easy to see why too. Y/n had this kind of beauty, it almost didn’t seem real, though, her physical appearance was merely a mask, for anyone in her presence could tell that like him, she emanated danger. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands bloody when crossed.

Y/n’s gaze flickered away from his eyes, trying to shake off the trance his chocolate gaze had put her in, summoning up a dismissive smirk, “You’re smart huh?” She moistened her lips, preferring to be done with the subject rather than delve further into it, “Come on, I’ve got work to do,” she began walking again, “On a fucking Saturday too,” Y/n grumbled under her breath, and John didn’t let her see it, but he smiled faintly.

They walked for a while, all the way down the corridor, turning at its end and trekking up another set of stairs, those narrow and illuminated by an old bulb, leading to a lone metal door, rust gathered on the outer bolt and the creaking noise blood curling as she pulled it open, “Wait,” John grabbed her arms, “I go in first,” he reminded, not waiting for Y/n’s go ahead before stepping in front of her, his hand already reaching for his gun as he toed in. He’d stepped inside completely, sweeping the area for anything remotely out of place before letting her in.

When Y/n stepped inside, a tense silence befell the low lit room and the clicking of her stilettos on the worn, stained concrete floor was the only thing echoing. Without needing to be asked, Donavan approached her, helping Y/n out of her long camel coat, draping it over his arm as he stood back, near John against the wall. “Christopher,” she addressed, undoing the buttons at the cuffed sleeves of her silk, champagne colored shirt, rolling them up to just below her elbows and then putting her hair up in a loose ponytail, “You know, when I hired you, I took a chance. You were a kid and I thought that I could turn you into something great, teach you. I wanted to help you, Christopher.” There was a table, a wooden one, near the front of the large room, and on the surface, were all sorts of tools. A pair of pliers, a couple blades, bone saws of varying types, a thumbscrew, a pinwheel, an icepick, and of course, to end it all, a gun. Of course, killing and making an example of him would have been ideal, but Y/n didn’t want to risk missing his reasoning. “I really wanted to help you,” she carried on, swiping up the thumbscrew, sauntering over to the center of the room where Christopher sat, bound to the chair by a series of leather straps; two holding his wrists to the handles, his calves to the legs and his midsection to the wooden back.

Though he fought against it, whimpering in fear as she drew closer, the chair, bolted to the ground, wouldn’t budge. There was no escaping, and he knew it. “Please Miss Romanov,” he pleaded pathetically, “I swear, I can pay it back, the twenty five grand, I can pay it back.”

“Pay it back?” She chuckled humorlessly, slipping his right index into the device, “Where’re you gonna get twenty five grand, huh? Besides, you know it's not the money, it's the principal. If we don’t have trust in this business, we have nothing. And I can’t trust you anymore Christopher,” slowly, Y/n started turning the pin at the top, her eyes fixed on how his features screwed up in pain as his finger was crushed, the sickening sound drowned out by his screams. The room was hardly soundproof, and even from the ground floor, anyone could tell what was happening, “Why do you think I can’t trust you?"

“Because of…...Arghh!” He howled, straining his neck as he shifted his head, his skin going red with the heat of pain and tears already streaming down his face. “The money!” He writhed, “Because of the money!”

“The money?” Hastily, Y/n grabbed his hand, situating another finger into the contraption, her anger flaring, “Have you heard nothing that I’ve said?” Her voice rose and she began turning again, up to her rope’s end with his ignorance, “Have I taught you nothing?” Y/n yelled.

“The principal!” Christopher sobbed, his breaths heavy and ragged and his eyes shut tight, as if not seeing the blood creating new stains on the grey floor might lessen the pain. Still though, Y/n continued, “But I had to,” he blubbered, “They would have killed me.”

“What?” snarling, Y/n paused, “Who, who would have killed you. Why’d you need the money?” Grabbing his wet face, her long nails digging into his blotchy, beat red cheeks, “Why’d you need my fucking money!”

“I-I….” hiccupping, there was a new wave of fear washing over him, and by then, the sweat had started to soak through his ratty plaid shirt, “The Irish...they-” the truth, like water behind a broken dam, came rushing out, “They have a….a gambling house up in Brooklyn.”

“You were fucking with the goddamed Irish!” Y/n released his face, only to grant him a backhanded slap, making sure the expensive stone on her ring broke his skin, “I’ve got you working here for me, I’m putting bread on your table and you go behind my back with the Irish? Motherfucker!” She slapped him again.

“Miss Romanov,” he begged messily as Y/n went back over to the table, that time to snatch up the brass knuckles, fitting them onto her right hand before returning to where Christopher, “You gotta understand, it was just supposed to be one card game and I-” Interrupting his hurried explanation, Y/n punched him, as hard as she could, hitting him square in the jaw and splitting his lip. She supposed that one of her men could have been far more effective, but following her father’s footsteps, she usually dealt out punishments on her own. “Please-” She reared back, socking him again, that tie hard enough to crack his jaw and dislodge a tooth. “Please,” he repeated, blood dribbling out as he spoke, “Money was tight, my girl hasn’t been working and we were in debt. I won one-” She hit him higher up, nearer to his eye, but he continued anyway, determined to beg for mercy with his last breaths, “I thought I could win more, but I started losing, so fast.” Another punch broke something else and bruises were already starting to favor the left side of his face while Y/n’s sleeves, which had fallen with the repeated movements, were more than spotted with blood.

“You needed money then you should’ve come to me. But you gave the Irish an in!” By then, Y/n had hit him so many times, that she’d lost count and Christopher was almost unrecognizable. She hadn’t realized how angry she was. From his on guard stance near the door, John kept his eyes trained on her; he’d never seen a more ruthless woman, or perhaps, person in general. Not even when he worked for the Tasarov mob, years before he single-handedly dismantled them in mere days. John had heard the stories though, of Y/n’s unforgiving father, how alarmingly frightening he could be given the right circumstances, no doubt he’d passed that on to his only heir. For someone else, watching Y/n might have been blood turning, despite her flawlessness, her ruthlessness might have easily made her ugly, the way she could ignore pleas and prayers for mercy, but for John, it was almost mesmerizing. She did the dirty work on her own, unafraid of bloodying her hands, and unashamed of who she was. Her bravery, boldness and ability to temporarily dispose of her apathetic demeanor was surprisingly attractive. Maybe he’d finally met his match.

When she was finally satisfied with the string of sloppy, bloody apologies and explanations, Y/n huffed, walking away, only to pick up the gun, checking to see if it was loaded before taking her aim, “I tried to help you Christopher, but you went behind my back, and now you have to pay for that.” He was already slipping in and out of consciousness, and when Y/n finally pulled the trigger with her bloodied finger, the only thing that sounded was the bang of the shot, the smoke dissipating as she lingered, staring blankly at the body for a minute.

“Vila,” It was Donavan that broke her trance, and ignoring him, Y/n tossed the gun back to the table snatching up the towel that he offered, wiping the warm red off her hands, barely registering how the color stuck to her skin before discarding it to the table.

“Make a dinner reservation, leave the money out for ‘em, and meet us in the car after you call,” barely, she took note of Donavan’s acknowledgement as she stalked out of the room, John once again a couple paces behind as they moved.

“You okay?” His attempt at small talk surprised them both as they returned to the main floor, his words under his breath.

They broke out into the late afternoon, and moving ahead, John leaned forward, opening the door for her to get in, “Why wouldn’t I be?” Y/n got in, immediately reaching for the crystal carafe of whiskey, and two glasses, “Have a drink with me,” without awaiting his response, she poured two, handing over one.

“Must be hard, your job,” he mused gruffly, taking a tentative sip of his drink, enjoying the way the alcohol burned his throat. Y/n had good taste, and John could tell from just one sip.

Shrugging, Y/n downed her entire drink in one swing, barely hissing or wincing as she knocked it back, “Pay’s good.” Reaching for the bottle again, Y/n poured another, not understanding why she felt the turmoil that she did and ready to do away with it, “Thanks for uh…..coming with us today.”

“From what I can see, you didn’t need me,” at that, Y/n’s gaze snapped towards him, her plump lips agape and her eyes unusually wide and doe-y, “I’m just saying,” he cleared his throat, realizing how the air between them had changed once again, “You can hold your own out there Y/n.”

“You’re one of the only people that calls me that,” she wondered out loud, licking her lips as she looked at him, “It’s kind of strange to hear someone say my name.”

“Is that a problem?” John leaned in, catching a whiff of how the whiskey interacted with her perfume.

“No,” Y/n breathed. It was the truth, and it seemed almost fitting, considering that John had proven to see right through her defenses, twice and had even been brave enough to call her out on it. He had seen just the tiniest glimmers of the real her, and it was only suiting that he be the one to call Y/n by her real name. “I do need you, by the way. So don’t go thinking I don’t.”

“Admitting defeat?” John smirked, and Y/n realized that that was the closest she’d ever got to seeing him smile. She bet he had a nice smile. Unconsciously, she leaned in too, something in the back of her head hoping he’d read the room and kiss her.

“I’m just-” With a startle, her words were cut off, and surprised as Donavan entered, Y/n sprang back, averting her gaze as he settled next her, not even looking in John’s direction as he resumed his usual demeanor, pretending as if the moment had never even happened.

The ride back to the penthouse had been filled with silence, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife, and when it was time to get out of the car, instead of offering his hand that time, John had left, heading towards the elevator to do his usual checks before Y/n could even step foot near it. That time, it was Donavan that had hung back with her, still holding her coat, and that time her handbag, as they walked.

Even the elevator ride up was quiet and when the metal box opened up to her foyer, they all went in and wordlessly, John stalked off in the direction of his room. She tried not to be, but Y/n was offended that he’d be willing to just bypass what they’d shared in the car and choose to pretend that he was nothing more than an employee. It was infuriating, though, knowing she could do nothing about it, Y/n decided that she’d deal with her frustrations with a more willing companion.

“Stay for a while,” she led Donavan down the hall, the sounds of their steps echoing off the soft white marble walls, “I’d like some company.”

“Of course,” he nodded, following Y/n into her room, shutting the door behind him as they entered. Y/n turned the lights on, the chandelier overhead casting a glow on the spacious master bedroom, and as she went over to a small sofa near the window to slip off her heels, Donavan set her bag down on an accent chair near the door, draping her coat over the arm. “I’m going to take a shower,” she explained nonchalantly, undoing and untucking her ruined shirt before pulling out her stylish leather belt and unbuttoning her pants. “Care to join me?”

Huffing a quiet chuckle, Donavan started stripping on his way over to her, losing his blazer and sweater by the time he reached Y/n, “When have I ever turned you down?” He smirked confidently, “You had such a rough day,” his calloused hands slid up her arms, massaging her shoulders, “Why don’t we get in there,” he lifted one hand, only to pull out her hairband and free her tresses, “And blow off some steam?”

“Well I didn’t invite you here for nothing,” Y/n’s lithe fingers trailed down Donavan’s toned torso, pushing the memory of a shirtless John out of her mind as she did. At the top of his pants, her hands lingered, and standing on her toes, she planted a searing kiss on a pair of familiar lips, expertly popping the button on his back slacks, letting him unclasp her bra in turn.

By the time they stumbled to the shower, managing to get the hot water on in their steamy haste, Y/n was already hoisted up in Donavan’s arms. He pressed his back against the glass wall, and as he nestled his throbbing manhood between her slick folds, Y/n moaned loudly, combating the sound of the falling water as she felt him fill her up. Her hand was braced beside his head on the glass, the rivulets staining red with the remaining blood on her hand as it raced down the wall. As he moved, helping her forget the day, with John’s image still on replay in her mind, steam built up around them while hot water from the rain shower washed their bodies. That evening, it was hard to lose herself in the rough sensation and Y/n could only hope that at some point, her mind would go right again so that she could return to the person that wasn’t affected by death, or worse yet, got flutters in her stomach because of John Wick.

*****

Tagging-@harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

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navegandoaciegas · 4 years ago

Text

the love you deserve.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: “He’s Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s best friend. He was the guy at the Triskelion, they say he’s the one who killed JFK.”

Whoever this Bucky guy is, he’s not your Jaime, your Jaime could never harm a fly. Your Jaime is good, he’s compassionate. Surely your friend must be wrong.

Warnings: soft!bucky, asshole!reader, angst, fluff, lying, cheating, drug use, alcohol consumption (including mentions of underage drinking), language that Steve Rogers wouldn’t approve of.

A/N: AU where Civil War and Thanos never happen, Tony forgives Bucky and he retires. Reader kind of ain’t shit in this one, you’ve been warned.

This is my very first attempt at writing in English, I’m not a native speaker, so forgive me for any mistakes :)

This is part 1, please reblog and let me know what you think of it :) feedback is always appreciated! I can tag you for part 2 if you’re interested, let me know.

Brooklyn, New York

Bucky smiles softly looking at the picture of you two on his lockscreen.

He’s had the Parker kid teach him how to use those damn devices just so he could look at your pretty face and talk to you while you’re not together.

Alpine is cuddled on the couch with him and he shoots you a good morning text like he does every day. You haven’t responded much since yesterday, but he doesn’t think much of it.

You’re at a bachelorette party with your best friends and he doesn’t want to be a bother.

Still, he can’t even begin to describe how much he misses you. It’s only been two days since you’ve left for Vegas but he feels his heart constrict in his chest because you’re not there, and he can’t hold you, cuddle you, whisper sweet nothings into your ear and make you giggle like a schoolgirl.

He can’t look at you with big, curious eyes while you do the pretty girl things you always do, like put on makeup or do face masks. He can’t brush your hair and rub your feet when you come home after wearing heels all day at work. He can’t cook your favorite comfort food as you rant about your job.

God, if his father saw him run to the store to grab you tampons and chocolate every time you get your period, what would he think? He barely suppresses a snort just thinking about the shocked and embarrassed look on his old man’s face after he accidentally overheard Becca tell her friend she’d gotten her period at 14.

He’s sure Mr. Barnes wouldn’t approve of Bucky’s behavior.

And surely HYDRA would punch the air if they saw their most prized possession paint his best girl’s feet in a pretty baby blue nail polish, because baby blue makes you happy, and if you’re happy then he’s happy too.

He’s such a sap, like Sam tells him.

He smiles like a lunatic at the thought of Zola having a stroke if he could see him all dolled up, hair braided and makeup done, just because his girl is bored and wants to practice her skills.

He’s fallen hard for you and he knows you love him.

Well, you love Jaime, as he goes by when he’s with you.

Would you love troubled, damaged Bucky too?

Las Vegas, Nevada

Your late 20s are a weird phase of your life.

Half of your friends are inviting you to their weddings and baby showers, some aren’t even done with school yet, and others can’t properly take care of a house plant on their own.

You belong to the latter category.

It’s Jade’s bachelorette party tonight, you’re in Vegas and you’ve drank more alcohol and done more drugs than you can handle.

And mixing those it’s a bad idea, but you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

Getting wasted in Vegas. It’s cliché really, but a it’s a fitting ending to Jade’s bachelorette years. You have always wanted to recreate The Hangover, minus the tiger and a couple other things, you suppose.

It reminds you of the first time you two have popped a pill in the dingy restrooms of a club in Barceloneta. You weren’t 18 yet, but in those kind of clubs age really did not matter.

You were so out of it by the time whatever drug you took kicked in that some British girls you met that night had to drag both your asses to their apartment.

Those girls, Grace and Hannah, if it wasn’t for them you wouldn’t be alive today.

You’d fucked and drank your way through Europe. It was London first, but London was boring, then Barcelona and Rome; Jade loved southern men, and you loved the way Spanish and Italian people partied. From Rome to some random italian city in the south where you’d taken a ferry to Corfù.

By the time you got to Greece you were so high all the time you barely registered moving from island to island until it was time to catch a plane to Athens and then Budapest. And from Budapest to Berlin, and from Berlin back home.

It was the summer before college and you were celebrating the end of your high school career. It was a nice phase, admittedly. You were both cheerleaders, popular, pretty, smart. You’d gotten into the college of your dreams on a cheerleading scholarship, your parents were proud of you, life was good. That summer you didn’t have a single care in the world, except choosing the sorority you would join in when August came.

Ten years later, Jade is getting married.

Today, you found out your boyfriend is a conniving bitch and a lying asshole. Not to mention the one they call the Winter Soldier.

“Hi pretty girl, can I buy you a drink?”

It’s lame maybe, but you’re drunk out of your mind and he’s handsome.

Warm brown eyes look down at you.

They’re not like Jaime’s, his eyes are light blue, almost transparent.

His skin is dark and glistens in the lights of the club, nothing like Jaime’s fair completion and his rosy cheeks.

You can feel the drug induced euphoria wearing off and the slight tick of your jaw. You’re glad you’re wearing a bandana that covers the lower part of your face.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

His smile is pretty like his face. His head is shaved. Jaime’s chestnut locks reach his jawline.

You nod your head.

When he talks he’s charming and sure of himself. Jaime was a stuttering mess the first time he spoke to you.

You think of nothing, you feel like nothing.

“Cum pretty girl, cum for me.” he grunts in your ear.

His voice is gruff and deep. Jaime’s voice is soft for a man so big.

You should feel guilty but you don’t.

How can you, when this feels so good?

Why would you? You’re not the one who lied in the first place, you’re not the one who hid their identity.

You’re spent and satisfied. In your drunken haze you barely register the man cleaning you up with a washcloth and leaving you in your hotel room with a kiss on your temple and a whispered thank you..

You should be ashamed of yourself but you’re not.

Because Jaime who brings you flowers on all of your dates, who opens the door for you, pulls the chair out the table, gives you his jacket when you’re shivering, that sweet Jaime doesn’t exist.

His name isn’t Jaime at all, it turns out.

It’s James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes.

Morning comes and your head is pounding. You’re hugging the toilet while you throw up all you’ve got left inside of you while Grace holds your hair out of your face.

You never fucking listen, and that’s one of your biggest problems.

The second big problem you have, you never watch the news, and that’s shame.

If you did you might have seen the cool looking guy with the murder strut that beat the shit out of Captain America at the Triskelion.

Too bad you never bothered to educate yourself on what’s going on in the world.

If you did, you might not have ended up dating the Winter Soldier for five fucking months.

Morning comes and the sun shines through the curtains of this nice hotel Jade’s fiance has booked for the five of you. Raven snores softly on one of the beds, and you hear Hannah whisper to her girlfriend sweet nothings on the phone, and all you can think about is Jaime’s shy smile and soft eyes.

The way he hunches on himself to appear less threatening, the way he gives up his seat on the train to pregnant ladies and old people, the way he never fails to leave a generous tip to waiters and is polite to everyone.

Your phone lights up with a text message.

Good morning sweetheart, I hope you had fun with your girls last night. Having lunch with Alpine, we both miss you. I love you.

Your throat feels tight as you choke back a cry.

You never fucking think before you act, and that’s the biggest problem of them all.

You should regret it, and you do.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #marvel fanfiction #james buchanan barnes

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drsilverfish · 5 years ago

Text

Nine Minutes to Midnight

5x21 Two Minutes to Midnight

Nine episodes to beat God, and fifteen years since Kripke pitched his original On The Road fan-fiction meets folk horror.

I’ve had a lot of fun in this little corner of Tumblr SPN fandom, over the eight years I’ve been here. I arrived as a newbie in 2012, and people already here were kind to me. I’ve seen people come and go, get disillusioned with SPN and move onto new fandoms, or arrive latterly into this one, brimming with excitement.

This is a weird social media platform, and I doubt it will be around forever, as one of its joys is how singularly bad it has been at integrating advertising.

Some of my favourite things here have been;

Comments in the tags, often funny, thinky, joyful - love this element of Tumblr.

Coda fic - this short-form story-style, which leaps into the fan-fiction gaps, loud silences and lacunae of the text - what a joy.

All the different roles people take on in fandom, as labours of love - gif makers, fic and meta writers, artists, vidders, archivists, signal-boosters, enthusiastic readers and beta-readers, art-lovers, networkers, collaborators, question-askers and answerers, and participants of all kinds (introvert and extrovert).

Completely unrelated to SPN, posts which are full of puns and hilarity, from “lik the bred” to Brits vs Americans on the subject of drinking tea. I still love Tumblr’s collective sense of humour; it’s witty and charming.

The language of gifs; those delightful comtemporary hieroglyphics of emotive expression.

The diversity - English is the shared language, but gradually it’s apparent that despite US dominance of the site, there are people from all over the world here, whose native tongues range from Russian to Italian to Brazilian Portuguese.

The collective meta experience - sharing “live” textual analysis has been huge fun. Viewing a text in a hive mind this way always shows you something you’d have missed on your own. It’s like holding up a crystal to a thousand lights and watching all the different refractions happening at once.

Again, not SPN specific, but experts in various subjects, from Egyptology to Medieval History suddenly emerging from the depths to provide a passionate and erudite exposition on their topic. Often prefaced with, “My time has come...”

Fandom has a dark side. It can be a coping mechansim, for many, in a healthy or less healthy way. There are unfortunately, always the formation of various “in-groups” and “out-groups”, ship wars, harrassment (of other fans, cast and crew), entitlement, and wild unpleasantness. And, that scourge of the internet in general; performative outrage (otherwise known as the outrage economy) which turns up the dial on provocative statements and negative emotion because that acts as catnip for engagement. A lot of people act out their shadow-selves online, projecting their own internal stuff onto others, from behind the screen.

Almost no media texts get to run as long as SPN (fifteen years) but my first fandom was (and is) Doctor Who and that has been going for over 50. It has some absolutely horrendously toxic spaces and places online, and many of pure joy. My advice is - find the joy.

Stories, by inviting us into the shoes of others, teach us at their (and our) best, the invaluable gift of empathy.

Take care of yourselves. Endings are hard, no doubt.

Special shout-out to fellow LGBTQ+ fans - hold onto your hearts.

It can be complicated loving a story telling its queer (romantic/ erotic) love story implicitly (i.e. in subtext).

Don’t forget (as I always say in my tags) subtext is part of narrative - meaning, the totality of a text contains its explicit and implicit elements; its text and its subtext, just like Metatron (aka Robbie T) told us in 9x18 Metafiction.

I wasn’t in the fandom myself, here on Tumblr, but I saw some of the fall-out from BBC Sherlock S4, and it was particularly distressing to see so many young LGBTQ+ fans feeling deeply hurt and even suicidal, because they’d read all the (extensively crafted) queer subtext in that show as a promise which would, inevitably, lead to an unequivocal queer “coming out” for John and Sherlock.

Those queer fans weren’t “self-queerbaiting” - they were just reading the totality of the text. And after all, why not read the subtext that way, as a promise? Being of a generation who’d already gotten to see many explicitly out queer characters on-screen; why not dare to imagine the subtext was a slow-burn romance with an inevitable “out” climax? Especially because Mark Gatiss (one of the writers) is out and queer himself, young queer fans were even more certain that his Sherlock would be the first “out” queer Sherlock on-screen (The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, 1970, which Gatiss is on record as being a fan of, had previously queer-coded Holmes, as indeed does Downey’s version, in Sherlock, 2009, and Sherlock 2: A Game of Shadows, 2011.)

Of course, the corporate and production politics were no doubt complex behind the scenes at the BBC, and Gatiss himself (apparently) saw things differently saying (in an interview in Oct 2010):

“No, I don’t think I’d make a kind of gay programme. It’s much more interesting when it’s not about a single issue. And equally, I find flirting with the homoeroticism in Sherlock much more interesting.” (Buzz Magazine Oct 2010: p10).

All of which, is why I’ve been adding a disclaimer to my readings of SPN’s queer subtext for a while now - namely, that reading the subtext doesn’t promise a rainbow of obviousness at the end.

As I said, take care of your hearts, lovelies.

Perhaps we shouldn’t need the narrative closet any longer.

But, we are walking between worlds, an old one and a new, both of them currently existing simultaneously, especially in a globalised world.

Queer audience fractions are, generally, more attuned to queer subtext, because it often uses codes derived from queer culture (although reading cinematic/ television subtext of all kinds is a learned skill, and no one is born with text-reading gaydar). So, whilst queer subtext may appear “loud” to some audience fractions, it remains invisible to others. That is, historically, by design, because, whilst “out” queer characters have gradually emerged on-screen since the 1950s [and the end of the Hays Code in Hollywood] queerness was, and still is (depending on where one is in the world) subject to legal penalty, state censorship or corporate production censorship.

A contemporary kind of state censorship is e.g. in China, where overt LGBTQ+ themes and characters cannot be depicted on-screen (hence, the queer subtext in The Untamed). A contemporary commodity kind of censorship might be e.g. notes from the Network, or TPTB at Marvel Studios with an eye on box-office. Queer subtext has the ability to slip past the censors, or be tolerated by them; because, now you see it/ now you don’t. A character with a straight “surface” reading and a queer subtextual one may (depending on the film/ TV product and its market etc,) be seen to pose less risk as a commercial product, whilst being able to appeal to different audience fractions simultaneously. For example, Captain Marvel (2019) and, as above, BBC Sherlock (2010-2017).

And yes, it’s complicated, because in the midst of that still extant censorship, which queer writers and other creatives on set may indeed be trying to work around by using queer subtext, we can see another world is possible. More out queer stories are being told. And, although we may love to see implicit queerness rather than no queerness at all, and indeed although implicit queerness may (arguably) have the freedom (still) to tell less boundaried or stereotyped stories than explicit queerness (with powerful effects on the audience fractions, both queer and straight, who do “see” it) we can’t deny that it does suit corporate entities, in some cases, to be able to appeal to a dual audience without the perceived “risk” of “outness”. A form of “queer-sploitation” which leads to the charge of “queer-baiting”.

The issue is, perhaps, particularly one surrounding male hero characters in Hollywood (and here in the UK) a) because “queer stories” are (still) often, not seen as likely to have universal appeal for broader audiences, whereas “straight stories” are not framed as “straight stories” but as universal ones, and b) because of the persistence of the prejudiced belief in particular that “queerness” undermines masculinity, especially “heroic” masculinity (here we have diverged markedly from the ancient Greeks). It’s somewhat different for female characters, but that’s another post. Fantasy, in the on-screen medium (if less so in fiction or comics) appears to be a more regressive genre than, say, comedy, in terms of the depiction of “out” queer central (rather than side) characters, with the exception of the Wachowskis’ Sense8 (2015-18) in which pretty much everyone is queer. I know there’s Ruby’ Rose’s Batwoman (2019- ) which I haven’t had a chance to check out yet, and we’ve got some queer Marvel (side) heroes upcoming, apparently; Valkyrie in Thor: Love and Thunder and Phastos in The Eternals - let’s see how that goes.

Moreover, queer subtext doesn’t have an exact analogy i.e. a “straight subtext” equivalent. Yes, many films and TV shows imply romantic/ sexual tension and interest between M/ F (pre)couples before it is “confirmed” they’re into each other in the text. However, because straight is the default assumption, audiences may muse and disagree about the potential for a M/ F romance at the implicit stage (as they have done in SPN fandom re Sam/ Rowena) but they don’t ask - “Does this mean they might be straight ????” It is assumed. Queerness, on the other hand, in order to be widely recognised (rather than solely by the subtext-reading audience fraction) must “come out” in some manner, explicitly, in the text (I don’t mean graphically, but “beyond reasonable doubt”). In other words, as painful as it is, we are not starting on a level playing field. It’s not fair, but it is the deal.

That doesn’t mean we can’t love contemporary queer subtextual stories, just that it’s important to acknowledge it can be painful, for some, to do so, and just as it’s important to acknowlege it’s OK to find them too painful to love, also (historical texts obviously operated under different circumstances).

Queer audiences are not homogenous. We can, and do, see things differently from one another, perhaps particularly across generations.

It is the case however, I think, that the structuring of a story by the narrative closet, as SPN has been structured by the narrative closet (up to this point, mid S15) (by which I mean its queerness is transparent to some, invisible to others, by design) cannot help but remind many queer audience members of our own struggles with the real world closet. Indeed that may make the story attractive, or unattractive, to different folk.

Incidentally, which is why I avoid it, I think the “it’s canon”/ “it’s subtext” debate is a false dichotomy and a bit confusing, as there are two, perfectly legitimate (within their own terms) definitions of “canon”. In the fandom sense, where “canon” means a romantic/ erotic pairing explicitly confirmed in the text, Destiel (meaning romantic/ erotic orientation between Dean and Cas) is not “canon” (as at 15x11). It is implied. Of course, it is explicit text that they care deeply for one another - “You’re my family. I love you, I love all of you” (12x12 Stuck in the Middle with You), “You’re my best friend” (15x09 The Trap). The exact nature of that relationship remains, however, deliberately, ambiguous.

In the literary sense, in which “canon” means “the official body of work”, SPN’s official body of work contains a metric tonne of implicit romantic/ erotic Dean/ Cas, so, it is part of the SPN “canon” in that sense - “subtextual canon” if you like. Although, of course, because implied, therefore open to interpretation.... deliberately transparent to some and invisible to others.

Despite all this complexity, and, indeed despite other elements of the SPN narrative which I have struggled with personally (the early seasons’ misogyny is off the charts sometimes, the brutally insensitive manner of Charlie’s death) I have loved this story, Supernatural, truly, madly, deeply, in large part because of its (implicit) queerness. And for may other reasons additionally, from its folkloric beginnings and dark initial cinematographic palette, to its melodrama, to its, eventual, Ourboros structure, and its Jungian alchemical journey marrying the cosmic to the earthly.

Reading the show without the queer subtext remains possible, but oh boy is that analogous to only considering the above sea-level portion of an iceberg.

I would prefer a rainbow of obviousness at The EndTM, but I don’t expect one. What I expect is continued, deliberate, ambiguity. Something I am sure we will be debating the ethics of, long after.

I could be wrong :-). But I am taking my own advice, and taking care of my heart.

For now, it’s nine minutes to midnight; let’s see how the story ends.

And afterwards, however the chips may fall, the characters will (as this most meta-narrative of seasons has been busy telling us) be set free of “Chuck’s” control. They will belong to us, in a thousand thousand fan-works, for as long as we care to keep on loving them.

#Supernatural #SPN meta #Meta #5x21 #Two Minutes to Midnight #Endings are hard #Who am I kidding #Fandom is going to go wild #Whatever happens #The great queerbaiting debate #Reading Subtext #Dean is bisexual #Destiel #Still subtext #But subtext is part of narrative

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obibail · 5 years ago

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my main squeezes: Vince, Sam, and Vespa! + your Skyrim OC 👀👀👀👀👀👀🔍

fghjdfskj the boys!!!!!!

Vince

The only person to ever call Vince Vincent is his mother. And Rush that one time.

Speaks English, Spanish, French, Haitian Creole, Portuguese, and Arabic.

Was attending NYU for cinema studies. Loved loved loved cinematography studies and film theory. Wanted to be a director! Had actually written & directed two short films already and had been shooting two more that he hoped to premiere at a few local film festivals. Had to drop out of the program after the accident that cost him his left arm because of the medical expenses and the long hospital stays. To say he was crushed is,,,, an understatement.

Was in California having an experimental prosthetic arm fitted & attached when the bombs dropped. He’s told that he followed everyone else to the bunkers but he has no memory of it. The doctors assume it’s either shock or the anesthesia that was in his system when it all happened, but regardless he comes to in immense nerve pain and in a crowded hospital bunker underneath Los Angeles with no clue with the fuck is going on.

Actually knows Ghost, ran with the same group Ghost did in Baja California for two years. Ghost had a big hand in how constantly battered Vince was during those years, liked to goad Vince into worse and worse shit because Ghost wanted to see how far someone like Vince - who was one of the few people in their group with morals - could be pushed before he broke. Ghost got their answer, too, when Vince turns around and - in a nearly blind rage - kills two of their group just before a planned attack on a community of mostly non-combatants.

Lost his right leg in 2030, an infected bullet wound that they (in the middle of a medicine shortage after a brutal winter) didn’t have the means to treat. His eventual leg prosthetic was built based on close study of his arm. Connecting it alone puts him out of commission for almost two months.

Does actually,,,, steal rings off corpses sometimes. A habit he picked up while with Ghost’s crew, a kind of trophy-hunting activity that turned into an unconscious action because he did it so much. He’s got,,, a pretty substantial ring collection. He pretends he feels worse about it than he actually does because what use did a dead person have for jewelry anyway?

Rush is the one who teaches him to shoot, a year or two after Vince joins his group. It comes to the group’s attention that Vince had never even held a gun prior to Rush - acting on a hunch - putting one in his hands one stupid hot California day and told him to go hog on some static targets. Vince missed pretty much every single one. Thankfully, his aim has gotten much better since then.

Vince feels conflicted about a number of things that he has done over the years but killing Ghost’s sociopath ass when they cross paths again in Hope County ain’t one of them.

Sam

Sam, good old midwestern boy that he is, legally cannot cuss.

He’s tall as hell but also thin as hell. He’s 6′6 at least but he’s also probably 145lbs soaking wet. A toothpick.

Nick calls him Sammy. (One time Nick slipped up and referred to the Judge as Sammy and everyone had a bad day about it.)

Sheriff Whitehorse is actually Sam’s godfather! Whitehorse and Sam’s dad (a retired sheriff from South Dakota) were really good friends & still kept in touch pretty regularly before the cult business started up bad in Hope Country. It’s Whitehorse that pulls the strings to get his anxious pothead veteran godson a position as a deputy. (Sam calls him uncle).

Sam is bisexual but how do you say very very repressed about it. Lots of religious-guilt-tinged self-hate because of growing up Catholic in the midwest and then in the south. Definitely had an “in love with my same gender best friend and very ashamed of it” phase.

Sam and John Seed actually ran in the same circles growing up, just at different times. John’s a few years older but they went to the same high school & John’s adopted parents and Sam’s mom were actually well-acquainted. As a teenager, Sam used to be invited to John’s parties & would go with friends and get a little too drunk (which John would them use as fun leverage against Sam’s fairly powerful mother).

On that subject, John was 100% Sam’s bougie weed man all through high school and later when he got out of the Air Force & was self medicating his PTSD.

Sam, realizing he played right into Joseph’s hands: You played me like a fiddle!Joseph: Oh no, Deputy. Fiddles are actually difficult to play. I played you like to cheap kazoo you are.

& some Judge stuff bc 💔💔: Sometimes he’ll disappear for hours on end and most of New Eden is just *solemnly* “he must be doing something very important” except instead of doing that he’s sleeping in the most secret, softest place he could find.

Has an adopted daughter, a little girl named Abigail who attached herself to him at the hip - because she was born mute and he is also mute and she thinks that’s neat, she’d never met anyone like herself before. She and the Judge make up their own version of sign language - that actually ends up being shared between a lot of the residents of New Eden, especially the scouts that the Judge trains.

Vespa

Card-carrying member of the billionaire boys club.

Corporate CEO mom who raised him in a very hands-off way because she was always too busy. Homeschooled, raised by nannies. A lot of his education came through the net, which he learned to navigate at a terribly young age while ignoring his tutors because they bored him.

Has a “rival” in Dare Aranya, his mother’s former protege and the person who (“allegedly”, but definitely) orchestrated her assassination and the woman who is currently CEO of Sasaki Industries and is the executor of Vespa’s mom’s will.

Even though his mother is assassinated when he is 16, he stays in Night City for a year after and blows through whatever bits of his inheritance he can get his hands on, on parties and drugs and vehicles and whatever else a traumatized teenager who saw his mom’s murder can spend money on. A spoiled disaster of a teenage party prince of the highest caliber. Ends up leaving Night City when his money suddenly dries up, syphoned off by Dare.

Bounces between countries and netspaces for years, never spending more than a few months in once place (aside from significant stays in Mumbai, Moscow, and Tokyo). Only returns to Night City after a botch job in Tokyo.

Is actually an Arasaka on his dad’s side, is the great grandnephew of Saburo Arasaka. He ends up staying with a branch of the Arasaka family in Tokyo until he fucks up a job for them while high and gets thrown out on his ass.

Has constant splitting headaches because of his bionic eyes - which are half the reason he self-medicates so heavily. Had to have them replaced and maintained constantly as a child because of natural human growth, which was always a terrifying experience for him, not helped at all by the sterile white rooms he would be taken to or the cool detachment of his doctors who did not work with children and were not paid for their bedside manner. It culminated in a scalding dislike for doctors and a refusal to go to them unless he is literally dying. Ripperdocs are equally, if not more, off limits.

Is notorious for turning off his hearing aids when he wants to focus better or when he is getting too sensory overloaded to function, frustrating everyone he has ever worked with.

He’s adamant his nickname is from the Italian word for “wasp” (as a riff off Dare’s last name, a phonetic spelling of araña, Spanish for spider. one time - while he was in Milan like the rich idiot he is - he heard about these wasps that kill spiders and he has a Justified Grudge against Dare so. wasp) and not from the scooter but he’s scooter boy forever now.

Jackie Welles, hefting Vespa “idiot bastard who spent all his money on drugs and passed out in the back room of a bar again” Sasaki over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes: god damn I wish you’d take care of yourself

I didn’t know if you meant Katja or Sylon but I’m gonna go with Sylon because I love him & bc he’s the more developed of the two rn 😬😬

Is some mix of Breton and Bosmer but no one really knows for sure because no one knows who his actual parents are. The ‘parents’ he was taken from were skooma addicts who had been hounding Khajiit merchants for weeks and were irresponsible to the point that a whole caravan of Khajiit, stressing out while watching this couple neglect their tiny child, collectively lost their minds and just went “listen here’s the stuff you want, don’t even pay us just give us the baby. give us the baby, please.” The caravan finds that couple again not two days later, dead in the desert, and no one is even surprised.

Amazing singing voice but doesn’t actually think he can sing at all. Will hum or sing absent-mindedly sometimes and get real surprised when he looks up to find people have come over to hear him better.

Doesn’t have time for destiny, just wants to steal.

Becomes a thieves’ guild merchant in Riften & moves his business into the Ragged Flagon when their reputation starts getting better. Is also a thief in the guild itself but legitimizes himself as a merchant in Riften by actually running legitimate goods (which helps Khajiit caravans a lot because they can’t trade in the cities but he can and he’s always happy to help the caravans he crosses paths with).

Being raised by Khajiit, Sylon had been taught from a young age not to rely on people and to only rely on his own talents and abilities & to be out for himself and only himself & he believes in this doctrine fully. That is, he believed in it up until the second he meets Karliah and Brynjolf and then he just *lays face down on the ground* “hmm maybe caring about others and wanting to have people that care about me is okay actually.”

Is definitely in love with Brynjolf but no one will ever get him to admit it, least of all Brynjolf.

Meets Katja after she catches him stealing a box of jewelry from her home in Dawnstar. Gets roped into a quest to kill giants with her as a form of recompense because she knows he’s the dragonborn and she’s pissed he isn’t living up to expectations. They end up becoming incredibly close friends whose favorite pastime is jointly roasting Kali, the stupidly naive exiled Redguard noble that Sylon saved from being assassinated one time and who Katja is now housing and feeding (and terrorizing).

Would adopt every orphan in Skyrim if given the option. Despite being fairly aloof and coming across as self-serving, he is shockingly doting and attentive to kids. Makes a name for himself in the cities as a friend of children and someone who will provide without asking for anything in return. Is the unofficial patron god of orphans and strays. And although he doesn’t ask it of them, they make a great information network for him & are happy to tell him everything they overhear in the cities that might be of interest to their thief dad.

#oc: vince mann #oc: sam kettering #oc: vespa #oc: sylon #thank you for indulging me i'm cryin' 💜💜💜#chuckhansen

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yourdlmatchmaker · 6 years ago

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I think this one is the longest match up I’ve answered so far… :’)

“Hello there, this looked fun. Could I have a long match-up please?

1. Physical appearance: 5'4" (163cm) 100lbs (45kg) very long dark reddish brown hair, dark brown eyes, olive skin (Mix of Thai, English and German) My look has been compared to a scaled down (in height) fashion model – that is long legs, very skinny, high somewhat hollow cheek bones, narrow face and a high forehead with almost no bust to speak of and a teeny tiny waist, I don’t know if that’s good or bad.

2. Personality: Oh my, where do I begin? Well, I’m definitely an extreme introvert. People usually seem to think I come across as very professional and aloof. I try to be kind and courteous to everyone I meet, but if they do or say anything that bothers me I can be a little prickly and sometimes downright vicious. Little do they know though that I’m like that, because I’m terribly shy around strangers and have a very strong desire to make people happy and protect them. I fear getting close to others, because I don’t want to hurt or be hurt and have a very hard time finding people I can bond with in both an intellectual and emotional way, so I hide behind distance and politeness. Just because I’m shy at first though, doesn’t mean I won’t be a chatterbox once you get to know me though. Once I’m comfortable with you I’ll share (almost) all of my ideas, random musings and gripes, if I think you’ll be receptive towards it anyways. That takes a very long time though and so far only two people have gotten to that point with me. For people that I’m friends with normally I tend to act in a sort of motherly way, giving them advice and helping them with their problems – sometimes admittingly to my own detriment. As well as taking care of them when they are sick or having emotional issues. I don’t like to help people, but on some level I feel like I must do so especially if I know them.

I’m normally a very logical person, so much so that I will occasionally say the wrong thing or offer ideas or advice when it’s not what the other person is looking for, which I realize after the fact but because I really like to just ‘fix’ things I have a hard time understanding that sometimes people need to emotionally vent, and I often just get confused by it. I’ll try to “be there” for them despite that but it is still difficult.

Despite my size and shy disposition I’m actually extremely hard to intimidate and will stand up for myself and other people very quickly. It doesn’t matter who my opponent is or how big, strong or powerful they are, I will stand my ground possibly to the end if I believe in my cause strongly enough (though because of my protective nature it is very easy to make me back down by threatening other people). No matter how many feminine things there are that I love, for some reason I always feel like I end up coming across as a bit too masculine and I often feel a bit more male than female. This isn’t necessarily out of a desire to be male, but rather I feel like I have more masculine than feminine qualities and also feel like I am sadly bereft in the supposedly more girlish personality traits of my sex. Despite this though I have no real desire to change my personality or sex, I am who I am after all. Nevertheless I remind people more of their brothers and sons, and my tiny social circle is all boys (at the moment.)

3. Scorpio (Sun), Gemini (Moon), Gemini (Rising) (The last two are important because despite having almost all of the Scorpio traits, once you get to know me I never shut up. ^_^;)

4. Hobbies/Interests: Drawings, painting (I like both fine art and illustration and can work in several different mediums – acrylic, watercolour, marker, ink and even digital art. Fantasy art, Surrealism, Manga and Impressionism are examples of styles I can do, and I’m still working towards improving my hyperrealist style.) I’ve been obsessed with making art since I was a very small child and at this point it’s really become my life’s work. I dedicate so much of my time, energy and resources to this that I forget to eat or sleep and become a bit of a shut-in. Reading: (Most of my books are non-fiction, though I do enjoy some older fiction on occasion – The Silmarillion, The Great God Pan and pretty much anything by H.P. Lovecraft being some examples. My library contains field guides, books on botany, mycology, medicine, artbooks, anatomy, geography, geology, microbiology, mythology, occult/witchcraft, religion, linguistics, phrasebooks, particle physics, cartography, calligraphy, history, psychology, genetics (…probably a lot more but we’ll be here for far too long.) Gardening: I love growing all sorts of things, but especially herbs and flowers. My living area is full of plants of many different kinds and I devote a significant portion of my time and energy to them. I also like to grow tropical plants from the seeds of fruit that I buy at the grocery store. Manga and Anime: I don’t seem immediately like the sort of person who would love popular culture, but the fact that I can enjoy some fun stories while reading or watching in a language that is not my native tongue has always been the main motivation behind this obsession. I’m also madly in love with cute things and ink drawings. Video Games: Another thing people probably wouldn’t expect by looking at me but… I have a HUGE collection of games (on my computer) of many different kinds. Like with anything else I do, I have to play everything in it’s original language (it’s more fun and respects the artistic integrity more.) I mostly like JRPGs and Visual Novels now, but I used to love Sierra games when I was younger, and some FPS like Doom. There is no type of game I won’t play. Though gaming is generally the lowest thing on my list of priorities these days. Cooking: I like to cook, can can do many different styles. Mostly Thai, but also frequently Japanese (both traditional and modern), Italian, German, English etc. I can cook pretty much anything though I don’t like baking as much. (I’m not super fond of sweets, except on the rare occasion when I must have them.) Fashion and Makeup: I am completely unable to leave the house without makeup and sunscreen and always have to make sure my clothing is at least presentable and neat. I actually enjoy applying makeup and like experimenting with it (I hate doing my hair though, the length is too much so I usually bun or ponytail it.) I also like a few Jfashions, Mori-Girl, Otome-kei and Classical Lolita especially. Unfortunately I’m also a very active person so I usually end up dressing in a more Korean style instead (tight high-waisted jeans, long sleeved tight black shirts and heeled boots – is running in heels a skill? XD), but when it’s practical to do so I love wearing the frilliest dresses I can find with a very poofy petticoat, a bonnet and floral designs. Hiking: I like to forage in the forest for mushrooms and plants when I can. I find that the fresh air and beautiful scenery calms me down and energizes me. Studying Languages: I haven’t had as much time for this lately, but it’s a side hobby. Unfortunately Japanese is the only one I’ve gotten particularly far in… (There are not enough hours in the day or night.)

5. I like: Tea (Especially Earl Grey, must be high quality or I get a stomach ache… yeah I know, its true. @_@), coffee (espresso in lattes or specialty black coffee made in a French Press, no drip :P), Self discipline, Quiet time, Nature, Music (all kinds, though especially symphonic metal), WalkingI love: My cats (though I get along quite well with all felinekind and animals in general (save humans :P), Plants (I mean every kind of plant, though trees and flowers stick out a bit), Fungi (even molds, though not when they’re growing on my food), Beautiful things, Art Supplies, Bright and pastel colours, Antiques, Books, Art, Paintings, Illustration, Shopping for art suppliesI dislike: When people look untidy, Foul smells, People that bore me, Small talk, Sloth, Loud noises, Erratic behavior, Selfishness, People who act overtly friendly and try to get close to you too fastI loathe: Cruelty (especially towards animals and children), Cowardice, Deliberate ignorance, People who complain a lot, Irresponsibility

6. I was unable to bond with my sole caregiver due to extreme child abuse and neglect on their part, In addition to that I was not allowed to attend school until my teenage years (I was educated very strictly at home, supposedly because I was too advanced to fit in at school – though it might also have been to keep me prisoner at home all the time. >_<). Due to this I have had a very hard time fitting in with society as my childhood was mostly spent alone, reading, drawing, playing computer games, spending time with the cats that I lived with and going out into nature (I made friends with a couple of squirrels.) Much of what I knew about people and the world was gleaned from books, magazines and the internet – although I was allowed to associate with a few family friends on occasion. I did have a very good intellectual education (though often held to impossible standards), but because I was so cut off from more normal ways of socializing I still have a very hard time relating to other people.“Relationship-wise” I’m umm… actually extremely submissive in private (^_^;) (Not something most people would expect as I seem very proud and dominant normally). I’m also very easy to embarrass as I’m not very comfortable talking directly about certain sorts of… umm… “romantic” things and avoid almost all forms of public affection. Above all else I look for people who can understand and relate to me via interests and experiences and who I can also relate to in the same way. Probably the same thing most people look for… but figured I should mention it. Would rather not be paired up with Ruki, I have a huge personal grudge against him that dates back to More Blood – and a part of me still plots his doom. (I apologize deeply to all the Ruki fans though.)

Hope this wasn’t too long, I feel a bit silly. (^_^;)

Take your time and have fun with this.

Could I please be anonymous?”

Admin Abi: Oh my~ what a long and detailed match up!! I really enjoyed reading it and I NEED to say that I felt identified with many parts!! Well~ I hope you get to see it “anon-chan” ;D and I thank you for the long wait. Long reply for a long match!

*finishing your match up*

Your romantic match is…

Reiji!

I must say/confess…I seriously I thought I was reading Reiji’s female description! I don’t intend to offend you and I apologize if I did. But you see…I want to explain myself a little more as to why I said it…

I'll tell you how you two met! After some time that you were studying in a school, you just wasn’t able to fit. Your parents then decided to change you into a more private school. They even changed you into a night-time school. During that time of the day, they thought you would be able to fit more since there would be less students as well as to keep your high level of education. They sing you up to this school and to be honest you weren’t very sure or excited about it. It would mean to adapt one more time and start all over again. Adapting to the time, education system and…met new people once again. On your first day you had a hard time finding your classroom…you were lost and let’s say you didn’t know exactly how you ended up in the chemistry laboratory. You knocked and…a handsome and elegant man opened. He seemed somehow annoyed, but he asked you what is that you wanted. You showed him your schedule and asked him where you could find your class. He gave you the directions and you thank him. This encounters seem to happen constantly since you seemed to always cross paths. He was always polite (and annoyed) and gave you instructions whenever you needed. One time you asked a girl of your class if she knew him so you could thank him properly for all his help. She was surprised and told you that he was no other that Reiji Sakamaki, the most popular family in school. She was more surprised that you get to be in good terms with the second eldest of the brothers.

“Reiji is well known to be the perfect gentleman…but he is unrechable. He’s cold towards everyone and thinks of himself above all. No one has see him dating any girl and he just closes himself in the chemistry laboratory, yet he is the top student in school. I really think you shouldn’t try to catch him, you’ll end up rejected” the girl told you. It’s not like you had those intentions with him in the first place, you just wanted to thank him. The next day you went to his class and simply left him a small note telling him how greatful you were. He was impressed? You couldn’t tell to be honest. You kept having encounters with him, you discovered that he was a little more open when you both were alone. He showed you his perfectionist nature as his sadist part. Yet…you seem to be unavoidable attracted to him. You of course were polite and a lady at first and that gave you extra points! He never confessed to you directly? He just simply let know that you now belong to him~.

He can’t believe how many things you both have in common. Just like you Reiji has an interest in botanics and science. You both have created a small garden with all types of herbs and a small section with flowers. You two sometimes have disagreements since you both are very logical, so you tend to discuss about some things. There were times in which you had troubles with him since he can’t stand being told what he should do (I mean it wasn’t your intention to offend him…you just tried giving him some advice!). Yet…even Reiji had it difficult to make you afraid…you were so difficult to intimidate, how you do it?.

He also had some troubles accepting or at least trying not to change you that much about your preferences. He sometimes have problems dealing with your more masculine nature…but well no one is 100% perfect. He sighs loudly and you know that you are doing something that is bothering him. He also doesn’t like that you tend to hang more with men that girls, yet he knows that even though you are nice and such with them…no one could provide you with the things he offers for you like a deep connection both mental and emotional. He also don’t mind the fact that you have social problems…I mean he manages to keep you with him almost all the time. He’s pleased whenever you dress like a lday or all cute just for him…it makes him feel good with the fact that he gets to know you better than anyone.

He understands what is like to grow alone and being force (in a way) to always give your best and being the best. He felt like he needed to have you all by himself and you fekt the same. You had someone to care for (well not literally but as a target to your attentions and love) and so has he. He always take care of you no matter the circunstances, he has found you and has no intention to let you go…never!

Your dates are mostly staying at his room, having a nice cup of Earl Grey tea (of the highest quality, who you think he is?) and discussing for hours about deep and serious topics. He enjoys your vast knowledge in literature, sciences, botanics, medice, linguistics, witchcraft (which he also has used), gentics…man, he can talk to you for hours and just like you said there are times you both wished the day had more hours to keep going. Even your drawings, pieces of art and knowledge in general never cease to stop to amaze him (he won’t admit it though…his biggest attempt to praise you, would be telling you “you did a good job” or “Indeed you are right about this”). Your interests are so vast that is incredible to make you both stop (Reiji is the one that always stops the conversation in order to go to sleep). Reiji sometimes have problems with your huge invest of time in your video games…but he accepts that a break once in a while is important. You small walks also doesn’t bother him that much…he has one of his familiars keeping an eye on you at all moments so he doesn’t have to worry and can concetrate on his chores and experiments in peace.

Reiji is a true gentleman: he always remembers the important dates, the things that you like and those you don’t. I can tell you that he knows perfectly that you are rather new when it comes with romantic things, so he doens’t push you into hand holding or kissing since he, himself, doesn’t like it. Your submissive nature with his dominant one makes a great combination, he feels so proud that he gets to see your true nature…and that you show it just for him…not just in a “pervert way”, but also as the chatty and even your akwardness. Because that true self with imperfections and all…is what makes you perfect to his eyes. You are so perfect together: YOU TWO HAVE SO MANY THINGS IN COMMON THAT HE SHOULD THANK HEAVENS FOR SENDING HIM SOMEONE AS PERFECT FOR HIM AS YOU!!

I hope you liked it and that I made sense? I feel that in some parts I wasn’t very clear or…maybe that was just my imagination…?

Either way hope you get to see it and like it of course…and thank you for your patience again!!

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therealkn · 6 years ago

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David’s Resolution - Day 3, Part 1

Day 3 (January 3, 2019)

Death Walks on High Heels (1971)

"Hello, who's speaking?" "A friend who'd like to have a little chat with you. I must see you privately, as soon as possible." "Listen, stop breaking my balls. My performance over here at the Crazy starts in two minutes, and I'm naked! In the meantime, you can go to hell!"

Okay, last movie was a little screwed up, so let’s go for something more grounded. And, this is the first double feature of the resolution, which will apply to when I watch two or more movies in one day. In this case, I watched this film and a follow-up called Death Walks at Midnight, both of which have been released by Arrow Video as a two-pack called Death Walks Twice. I’d recommend the set if you can get your hands on it, as it’s a limited print of 3000 copies. They sell the movies separately too, but really it’s better to get both at the same time.

This and the next film are both giallos: an Italian horror/thriller genre that’s like a gumbo of crime drama, mystery, sexploitation, psychological thriller, and just a dash of slasher. I’m not as familiar with the genre as some enthusiasts, but I’m hoping there’s more really good giallos out there. If anyone knows any others to check out, let me know.

Both this and Death Walks at Midnight were directed by Luciano Ercoli and star his lovely wife, Spanish actress Nieves Navarro. Despite their similar names, these two films are completely separate from one another and tell two unconnected stories. This is just in case people start wondering if Death Walks at Midnight is a sequel or anything like that, which is isn’t.

The film opens with an eyepatch-wearing jewel thief on a train who is quickly killed by another man, dressed in black from head to hoe and with striking blue eyes. The film then goes into the opening credits while Nieves (credited in both this and Death Walks at Midnight under the screen name Susan Scott) and her on-screen beau Simón Andreu as her jealous boyfriend Michel are driven through streets, which give us some lovely surroundings to look at. We soon learn that Nieves’ character, Nicole, is an exotic dancer who goes from one nightclub to the next to perform her act. She also happens to be the daughter of the jewel thief who was murdered in the beginning of the film, and that her father died after completing his latest heist, and the jewels may or may not be in her possession. In her nightclub acts, she’s attracted a devout fan - one might say stalker - in an older gentleman played by American actor Frank Wolff, who wants to have dinner with her. This makes us feel a little concerned about this man and his intentions with her.

This is one of those movies that’s hard to really talk about in terms of story because I don’t want to spoil anything. There are some films that you should walk into as blind as possible, and this is one of them. All I will say is that with this film and Death Walks at Midnight, you will be kept guessing. It’s more surprising in this film because of... oh, you’ll just have to see to find out. It certainly had me surprised.

There is some lovely cinematography in the film, helped especially by Arrow Video’s restoration of the film, which looks great. Luciano Ercoli really loved Nieves and this film, in a way, is him showing her off to the world. (To be fair, not the first or last time that’s happened in a movie.) Her character’s profession as an exotic dancer gives us an excuse to watch her wear provocative outfits and dance seductively, and we get to see her in various glamorous looks in addition. She does look stunning, and it is a treat to see her in all these different fashions.

I will say that while this film and Death Walks at Midnight have English dubs (and pretty good ones too), I actually prefer the original Italian versions. The performances in the Italian version are a little stronger than the English dub, and the Italian version shows that Nieves isn’t just a pretty face. She’s fantastic in the Italian dub, putting a lot of passion into her performance with her body language and the delivery of her lines. Her character is not someone who just looks pretty and screams in fright; the quote I used for this review is when the man in black threatens her on the phone for the first time, and she thinks he’s just a creep who needs to be told off. She makes it clear that she is not a woman with whom to fuck. Gotta love a character like that.

The mood and atmosphere is solid throughout. The soundtrack by Stelvio Cipriani fits the tone of the movie very well, and even provides some nice little pop tracks for Nicole’s dance performances. And there is always this sense of uncertainty throughout, never knowing what exactly is going on and only at the end do we get the whole picture and suddenly it’s all clear. It has some exploitative moments, but it doesn’t really go into bad taste (with the exception of Nicole’s first on-screen performance where she looks black - what in the actual fuck, Italy?) and it makes some sense in the narrative as opposed to “suddenly tits”.

Everyone else in the film is pretty good. Frank Wolff’s character, a man who cheats on his wife with Nicole, is charming and affable and at the same time has a slight sinister edge. Simón Andreu’s Michel is an insecure person who, while he loves Nicole, does have his personal issues as well, and he may suspect Nicole of having her father’s jewels. The supporting actors are also pretty solid, especially when they become more necessary in the second half of the film. Of note is Claudie Lange as the wife of Frank Wolff’s character, and the first time I saw her I thought it was Nieves because of how similar the actresses look. It took until later in the movie to realize it wasn’t the same person. Apparently I’m not the only one who thought that; in the audio commentary, film historian Tim Lucas says that he also had that happen to him.

I recommend this movie to anyone who likes a good thriller/mystery. It’s not especially gory or gruesome, as there’s only one grisly murder and it’s shocking but not particularly nasty. And the twists and turns really had me guessing as I watched it, to the point that after one major twist, I had to pause the movie for a little while to think it over and go “...Wait, no, that actually does make sense.” You’ll probably do that too.

Next time: Death walks at midnight (spoiler alert, there are no midnight deaths in the movie).

#David's resolution #Death Walks on High Heels

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damrebel · 8 years ago

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5 Things Tag

TAGGED BY: @gxneraliisms

5 things you’ll find in my (book)bag:

Star Wars Tin with Star Wars Band-Aids (for incidents)

Tissues (I could only find flower or peach scented ones in Tomsk? Why?)

English-Russian Russian-English Dictionary (Katzner)

Passport (a must have at all times)

Pens (free ones from banks and hotels because why not)

5 things in my room:

BB-8 (@girlshavesharpteeth said I needed a friend on this adventure)

Lemon candies (People tell me this makes me old? I just like them.)

Pasta (when all other food fails, it saves me)

Guitar (I just started learning a couple months ago)

Suitcases (to remind myself not to buy stuff, as I’ll have to fly home)

5 things I’ve always wanted to do with my life:

Travel to Russia (check)

Come out to everyone important to me (check, except in Russia)

Cosplay Prof. X and Magneto with my friend (when we’re 65+)

Act as a main role in a play (maybe some day)

Adopt (most likely siblings, so they needn’t be separated)

5 things that make me happy:

Family (”Remember, everyone’s your family.” -Spy Kids 3D)

Walking in the cold (preferably in the dark)

Roleplaying (when there’s time and under proper circumstances)

Cosplaying (especially with friends, but I’m down to just wander alone)

Managing a conversation in another language (with minimal errors)

5 things I’m currently into:

Hannibal (I write Will Graham now in email RP, when I can.)

Russian (studying for the TRKI-1, or maybe TRKI-2)

Dogs (they’re very cute, and @usemyknowledge is evil)

Making Russians cringe (at my lack of warm clothing)

Защитники (kind of like the Russian version of The Avengers, sort of)

5 things on my to-do list:

Refresh my Spanish (and get rid of the Russian accent in it)

Begin to learn German and Italian

Reply to people damn it (I’m the slowest of the slow)

Make a real sleep schedule (a real one, someday)

Get back into Mathematics/Physics/Computer Science

5 things you may not know about me:

I’m teaching and co-teaching English at a university in Tomsk, Russia through the Fulbright Program until roughly June.

I graduated from university with a B.A. in Russian, a B.S. in Mathematics, and a minor in Physics.

I don’t like bars or loud music, but I went to a bar/club in Novosibirsk, and they played https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-VVnhwB4Gw which is rather brilliant. There’s even some 007 in there at 2:35, or so.

I identify as asexual.

My family is really big. My mother was one of nine children, my father one of four. I have over 35 cousins in all, and many of them have children. I only have one brother, but I also have six step-siblings, most of whom have at least one child. And so on, forever.

Tagging: @droidsrus @ask-first-order-elite-pilot @ Anyone who wants to?? <3

#out of company

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the-last-fabulous-killjoy · 7 years ago

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🐰💗 🐹 🌠 👀☀️😘 💁🌟🐾🎁 💙 😤 🐇 🌻 🍓 ✈️ ☕️🌸💧🎵 ⚡️ 💛 💚 💎 🙊 🌺 🍀 ☁️ 💜🐬🍄 😣 🍪 🍰 🍑💘 😪 🙀 💥 ☔️ 😊🎤 🐝 🎨 🐻 🌷🐶 👑 🐴 🍋 📚 😔 😌 🌍 🐧 🐵 💭 💫 👻 🎀 🎬 🍦 🐼

Thank you for asking me, all the questions, I may have missed some so I apologise, but here we go🐰 what is one secret you haven’t told anyone?I’m not sure, I’m pretty that I’ve told everything about myself to different individuals, I can’t think of anything that’s still private, maybe some depressing thoughts 💗 if you could hug anyone, who would it be? Ummm, probably certain friends, or celebrities I’m a fan of (I could write a list but it’d probably be a long one🐹 what are some of your favourite Pokémon and why?TBH I’m not the biggest Pokémon fan, I used to be a big fan, but I’ve drifted, but I’d say squirtle cause he was my OG on Pokemon Fire red🌠 if you were in charge of the world, what would the world look like?Well if we’re talking like I was a god, then it’d be peaceful, everyone would be accepted for who they are, they’re be no discrimination, everyone would just get along 👀 what’s the most recent vivid dream you had?Ummm, just like hanging out with people having fun, that probably sounds dull but my thoughts have been in a good place recently so, I’m not complaining ☀️ what do you like most about your best friend?I’ll tell you that when I have someone who is a best friend😘 talk about your crush or partnerEr, I’m not gonna say much except, I hope i don’t fuck it up 💁 if someone was rude to you, would you be rude back?It depends on who it is and what the situation was, if it was a complete stranger saying something shitty about me I tend to ignore it🌟 what do you like about yourself (must choose 3 things)Oh god, umm1. That I’m starting to get more confidence in myself2. That I’m trying to do things outside my comfort zone, I mean I joined an acapella society3. This is slightly on the more depressing side, but the fact I’m still here today and doing relatively okay🐾 what are you most scared of? How will you overcome it?Spiders and heights I’d say are my top fears, and I don’t k ow how to overcome them, I took a spider outside my house?🎁 what never fails to make you happy?I don’t think I have something that has been 100% successful, but the closest would probably be going out and hanging with friends😤 do you get angry easily?Depends on what it is, like video games I can lose my temper really quickly 🐇 what do you always daydream about?Usually the future and ending up happy and with a happy family and a job a love🌻 of you could change 3 things about the world what would you change?1. No discrimination against anyone2. Make Obama’s president again3. Easier/cheaper to get to places 🍓 send me 4 names: kiss, marry, befriend or kill?Well you didn’t send me names so I can’t do this, someone send me names?✈️ what is your dream city and why?Somewhere in Italy like Rome, Venice or Florence, I just love Italian things☕️ talk about your ideal dayGoing out with my friends like maybe to a park or a beach, seeing a film, eating a meal together then going out and getting drunk, or alternatively, staying in with my partner, under a duvet and watching films all day with pizza and ice cream, only problem is you need a partner for that🌸 are you introvert, ambivert or extrovert?I’d say introvert but maybe slightly shifting into and ambivert💧 when was the last time you cried? It was actually this morning cause I was watching the clip from educating Yorkshire (I can’t quite remember which one it was) but it was the one where there was the kid with the stammer and him overcoming it🎵 name 5 Songs you live at the moment 1. The Kids From Yesterday - My Chemical Romance2. The Kids Aren’t Alright - Fall Out Boy3. Missing You - All Time Low 4. Good Times - All Time Low5. Miss Atomic Bomb - The Killers⚡️ if you had any superpower what would it be and why?This is difficult, right now I’d say super speed so I didn’t have to worry about being late all the time💛 if you could talk to your younger self, what would you say?Everything will be alright, and think about everything before taking action💎 which one would you rather have more of: intelligence, Beauty, kindness, wealth or bravery? Why?I’d say bravery cause I always chicken out in situations where I should step in because I constantly analyse what could go wrong🙊 what are you ashamed of?That I’ve hurt people in the past🌺 what languages do you know? Which do you want to learn?I only know English, and a bit of french, and I’d probably want to learn Italian🍀 if you could be any fictional characters best friend/lover, which fictional character would you choose?Maybe a slight cheat but I’d say either the Power Rangers from the 2017 film or The Guardians of the Galaxy ☁️ talk about your dream universeI’m gonna day one where you can travel between parallel universes and you inherit traits from that universe, so if you go to a universe with superpowers, you get to have superpowers 💜 what acts if kindness will you do today?Well that depends on what the day holds for me🐬 if you could transform into any animal/magical creature, what would you be and why?I’d probably choose an animal that has wings cause it’d be cool to fly😣 talk about some things that have been making you depressed/angry/anxious?The constant worry of ruining things that are going well for me, like ruining friendships/relationships etc.🍪 what did you want to be as a kid, and what do you want to be now?As a kid I wanted to write comic books, and now I want to write films🍰 what are some of your favourite sugary foods?Probs chocolate is number 1🍑 what are you obsessed with?Lego and films💘 what happens to you when you’re stressed?I like freak out for a bit and then just go numb really and occasionally panic 🙀 are you an adrenaline seeker?TBH, not really☔️ would you consider yourself a good person?I’d like to think I am, and I try to be😊 what do you like to do as hobbies?I usually just watch films but recently I’ve joined an acapella society and I’m trying to learn ukulele 🎤 what’s the last song you hummed or sang by yourself?I think it was The Kids From Yesterday by My Chemical Romance 🐝 what’s your worst trait?Probably that I overthink everything🎨 what do you always doodle when you’re bored?I don’t really doodle, I mainly just go on my phone🐻 what’s stopping you from chasing your dreams?Probably my own self doubt👑 who are your favourite celebrities?I’d say Karen Gillan, Katie McGrath, Anna Brisbin (Brizzy voices), Chris Pratt, Matt Smith, rooster teeth/achievement hunter, I can’t think of others at the moment🍋 do you consider yourself an emotional person?I am very emotional, and I’m sorry about that😔 what do you do when you’re sad? Does it help?I usually listen to music, and sometimes it helps🌍 which country do you live in?I live in England💭 do you keep a diary?I do not🎀 what’s your fashion sense like?Random, I want to dress really smart but recently I’ve been sporting the denim jacket look🎬 what are some of your favourite films?Back to the future, Jurassic park, Star Wars and Guardians if the galaxy vol 2🐼 if you could meet anyone, who would it be and why?I’d say Brizzy, achievement hunter, Dodie, Emma Blackery, Busted, McFly, All Time Low because they’re some of my faves

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ordertakeawayblog-blog · 7 years ago

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Working at a Take-Away

Working in a take-away restaurant in the UK is a superb job as there are always vacancies due to the large amount of shops opening and the numerous jobs you can do in that one place. The jobs accessible in take away eating places are;

- Chef

- Delivery driver

- Order taker

- Cashier

- Sous Chef

A supply driver is likely one of the best roles to choose up. You do not want any particular skills of the educational nature. You merely need a driving license and be versatile to work as it is going to typically be lengthy hours, and largely during the evenings and weekends as these are take away eating places busiest instances.

So as to turn into a supply driver it is best to look out for vacancies in take away retailers. All sorts of meals sorts such as Chinese language, Indian, British, Italian, French and so on.

After getting seen the signal you need to then call in to the take-away restaurant and let them know that you are fascinated within the function and give them a quick history of what you could have been doing. A CV shall be useful also.

Supply drivers are normally paid minimum wage and this may rise as a result of expertise and the size of time you're with the store that you are working for.

Supply drivers will often be given complimentary meals on the end of their shift and so this is an extra perk for the job. The take away restaurant can even present petrol for your car or motorcycle, depending on which you might be driving. You'll be responsible for realizing the areas which you're dropping food to, and be able to keep the meals scorching on the journey.

One of the most efficient gross sales strategies is the "Take Away" sale. When carried out with conviction, it's going to dramatically enhance your efficiency as a salesperson as it compels the prospect to maneuver off the fence and either head in the direction of a successful sale or will get the prospect to vanish shortly with out losing your time.

What's a Take Away Sale

A Take Away sale is a closing approach which acts on a person's inherent must possess something before it's gone. That is what causes many people to take a final skiing trip of the yr as a result of they know that pretty soon the snow will be gone and so they should wait until next year before they can ski once more.

The Psychology Behind the Take Away Sale

One of many prime human motivations to take action is the fear of loss. A correctly crafted Take Away sale is crafted round that emotion. It should be crafted in a plausible option to work though.

As an illustration, trying to pull off a Take Away sale for a can of soup at the grocery store could be fairly troublesome as a result of there are many cans always out there (except maybe when a hurricane is coming.) Because the can of soup can't be made desirable via scarcity, what else might work? Coupons with expiration dates is a good example. Or a store sale - purchase three and get one free. These are each examples of shortage and they both trigger the emotion of concern of loss and encourage action to ensure that loss just isn't experienced.

A Take Away sale will create a scenario within the prospect's mind that compels some kind of action. There are usually three emotional steps that happen on a Take Away sale.

1. Describe the benefits of having X in terms that make the prospect need X.

2. Tell the prospect that even thought X is the greatest thing in the world, it may not be proper for her or him.

3. Let the prospect convince you that it is proper for him or her.

Depending on the complexity of the product, this could possibly be achieved with a single Take Away or could require a number of Take Away's over a interval of days or even weeks.

A Cautionary Level

Purchaser's regret is one thing we have all skilled occasionally. Due to the ability of the Take Away sale, it's essential to be sure what you might be selling is truly a great product to stop buyer's regret. If it isn't, you'll almost definitely experience bigger than normal return requests because when the "need to have it now fades, all that will probably be left would be the buy. And to be a keeper, it has to satisfy the shopper on more enduring levels of satisfaction.

Examples

Listed below are a few examples to allow you to get a really feel for various offers that use the Take Away gross sales approach. Once you are familiar with it, you will notice it utilized in many locations. Each time you see it used, you should study its application and see in case you can apply it to your small business.

(For an eBook) The first 100 patrons will get to purchase this product at $14.ninety nine. After the primary one hundred are bought, the price will probably be $24.ninety nine.

(For a coaching manual) Offered at a particular pre-publication worth of $forty nine.00. Once it's printed (7/14), the worth will be $ninety seven.00. Order now and be the primary to receive one among these items AND get a fantastic discounted value.(promoting a enterprise territory) We're only selling one particular person in your ter

ritory. We want the one who buys it to be successful in that territory. For those who don't assume you can be successful at this business, we don't need you to purchase this territory. We only want to sell it to somebody who will probably be successful. Do you believe you can handle this responsibilty?

Observe: Examples must be credible. If you provide something and it's a type of affords that are at all times available, people will are inclined to walk away. As an example, while you provide simply a hundred at a special price, add a countdown of the quantity out there in your webpage and when it hits zero, increase the worth similar to you mentioned you'd. This generates respect for you because it proves your integrity. And the subsequent time you tell your clients a few particular, they are going to LEAP to make the most of it earlier than it goes away.

How You Can Use It In Your Enterprise

Knowing a few powerful method does you no good unless you set it into motion.

Make a listing of the ways you need to use it for your enterprise. The technique will be various in so many various ways in which it is actually applicable to just about any enterprise kind and sales state of affairs.

Here's a approach I've discovered highly effective when doing joint ventures ordertakeaway or doing solo mailings to electronic mail lists on the net.

Construct a particular web page on your web sites for the special provide. Your web site may be http://www.xyz.com which has the common priced offer. You would construct a web page just about an identical to the normal offer with the particular pricing, perhaps http://www.xyz.com/particular.html.

On that webpage (and in your advert), you inform them about the limited time particular. And you may inform them to confirm it by visiting the primary website to see what a great deal they're getting. This gives them incentive to purchase at the particular price as they see that you're indeed promoting on the normal value too. And since it's a time sensitive offer, once that time window expires, take away the particular pricing page and substitute it with a new web page explaining the particular pricing deal is gone as it's previous the time restrict that the particular was provided.

The primary time you do that to a selected record, it might not be too efficient as there are a great deal of so known as restricted time offers on the net that never expire. It has folks conditioned to take their time whereas making a decision (one other good reason for a you promoting high quality product that solves an issue that's defined in compelling language within the sales letter.) When individuals finally get round to coming back to place their buy and discover the particular gone, not all of them will buy but all will bear in mind you're a company that stands behind its phrase. And meaning next time you make a limited time supply, individuals will respect it and take action - huge motion!

Everybody will feel nervousness in some unspecified time in the future of their life. Some are capable of course of the nervousness higher than others. Some folks expertise social anxiousness. Others have nervousness that takes the form of a panic attack. These assaults are scary!

The signs of hysteria vary from individual to individual. The most typical signs come in the type of sweaty palms, shaky fingers, queasy stomach, tightness in your chest, and dry mouth. These signs are a warning that your are on the verge of an assault. Learning tips on how to take heed to your symptoms and calm yourself is how to take away anxiousness and the assaults.

Nervousness's fear cycle is what controls your thoughts and sends your body into an assault. When you break the fearful pondering, you gain management of the anxiousness. If you do not discover ways to do that naturally, you need to either depend upon remedy or endure all through your life.

Trying to hide your nervousness or denying it permits the condition to develop and turn into worse over time. If you happen to can practice your thoughts to calm down and change the habits throughout an impending assault, you will learn how to be free of hysteria's jail - without medicine!

By utterly focusing in your breath, you'll be able to take your consideration away from your signs and the anxiety you feel. In the event you pay too much attention to something, you become targeted on it - this can be good or this can be dangerous.

What to do about being addicted to ordering take out is one thing that's hardly ever talked about. Maybe these diet professionals suppose everyone lives in a small town where the closest restaurant is 1,000,000 miles away? Effectively, regardless of the case may be, that is something I personally had a problem with, and given that you're reading this text now, this tells me you might be having a problem with this as properly. Pay attention, if you are attempting to shed pounds, however you simply cannot put that cellphone down and cease ordering unhealthy take-out meals, then this article is only for you! Read on to see what I did to break out this behavior.

There are typically 4 main the explanation why somebody would be addicted to ordering take out. I listed those reasons under, and I've also listed 4 options to every. Due to this fact, with a purpose to stop the addiction, it's probably not a one-dimension-matches-all resolution. It's important to work out why you primarily select to order out so much, and take a look at my personal recommendation to help cease this drawback. You possibly can even mix options together to make it more of a guarantee to cease ordering out and start eating healthier.

1. Comfort - When you've got a busy life-style, then there may be nothing extra better than simply picking up the cellphone, trying at the menu to see what you need, inserting the order, and getting on together with your tasks.

My resolution to this downside is to make giant, wholesome, and lengthy-lasting meals that you could quickly put together. One BIG example is healthy soups. In actual fact, I have a big batch of selfmade hen, tomato, beans, and vegetable soup in the fridge proper now!

2. You Do not Really feel Like Cooking - That is LARGE one! Most of the time once I felt the urge to choose up a menu and get an order in was after I did not really feel like cooking. Is that this one thing that causes you to need to order take out as well?

Effectively, what I like to recommend you do here is you are able to do what I discussed above, or you might begin making less complicated wholesome meals. You wouldn't have to get tremendous extravagant along with your meals to ensure that them to be healthy, scrumptious, and filling. One thing I love to do is both grill or bake a batch of rooster breast on sooner or later, individually wrap and freeze them, after which simply take one out, put it within the microwave, get some brown rice and salad, and voila!

three. You Don't Like The Taste Of Your Cooking - For those who (or your loved ones... lol) do not like your cooking, then obviously one of the best answer right here could be to apply and learn how to cook foods to make them extra scrumptious. The most effective things I did was I watched the cooking channel (I nonetheless do by the best way). There's simply something about watching these cooking reveals that makes you captivated! Anyway, watching the cooking channel cannot only give you great recommendations on how you can make frequent meals, but they'll additionally give you concepts for amazing meals, and they can provde the inspiration to cook dinner. Having inspiration with cooking is LARGE as a result of this can then transfer to how your food comes out.

four. Take Out Is Just So Scrumptious! - Dwelling in the Philadelphia space, I am bombarded with high quality pizza spots and Chinese restaurants! I simply can't escape them! To make issues worse, loads of these places are round my favorite shops I like to buy at... which then means I get to odor these cheese steaks with fried onions regardless of the place I go (lol)!

A good suggestion right here would be in case you are just so addicted to explicit meals you get from your favourite take out spot(s), then I recommend making your own more healthy various! You may make a healthier alternative for almost any bad food there may be (wholesome burgers, wholesome pizzas, healthy pastas, healthy Chinese language food, and extra)!

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