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breadqueen95 · 4 years ago

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OH MY GOD SOPHIA IM BEYOND EXCITED FOR THIS SERIES!!!!!! The concept is so beyond creative, and I loved how this chapter really set up a lot of backstory and characterization even before reader arrives.

George makes my little heart hurt 😞 he’s such a soft lad and I can see why this would affect him so much. But then going into Fred, George’s backstory kind of explains Fred’s and the connections you make are IMMACULATE. Jealousy? Frustration? All while being there with the love fred has for his family?? All there. And the SMUT MY GOD

I’m so jazzed to read the rest lovey!!!

i walk the line - f.w. - 1

1950s american carnival! au

Summary: The Weasley Bros. Circus has always been a family affair...until they pick up a highly unusual girl with wicked talents...

Warnings: 1950s America and all the shit that comes with it, NSFW/SMUT MINORS NO INTERACTING :) , alcohol usage, cussing, tw violence (fights), carny folk, contortionist, language and desc of intense circus acts, clowns, sad boy George, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF BULLYING IN THIS CHAPTER, angst

taglist or people that may like this! DM to be added or removed @cappsikle @lumosandnoxwriting @whizboingies @virgohufflepuff @officialwizardwheezes @amourtentiaa @softlyqoos @breadqueen95 @thehufflepuffwife @george-fabian-weasley @lupinsclassroom @haileymorelikestupid @sarcasticallywitty15 @band--psycho @gcdric @vogueweasley @harrysweasleys @slytherinsunrise @thisismynerdyself @loony-loopy-lupinn @writingsomewrongs @pineapplesandpinas @valwritesx @amxrtentias @theweasleyslut @oh-for-merlins-sake @alyssamalfoy

“...welcome to our home!”

George listened as the crowd erupted before his father. He had always admired Arthur “Art” Weasley, for many a reason. The way he could walk in and command a room, the way he could silence an entire audience with a simple flick of his wrist of wave of his hand, the way his voice alone could stop his cries in the night, the way he would come up behind him when taking care of the animals was too much and say, “Georgie, go to sleep, son.” but most of all? The way his father noticed him.

Baltimore, Maryland. 1933.

George Weasley was on the run. Again. Charlie Dooley, a boy from his class, and his gang of (as Fred said) “chickenshit babies” had made it a habit of following George home from school and doing one of the following: a) chasing him on bikes, b) cornering him in the bathroom, or c) sprinting after him on foot.

Today, it had been on foot.

“C’mon monkey boy!” Charlie howled, the other boys closing in on him. George sprinted a quick right realizing he dropped his lunch box and thinking a violent but rapid mom’s gonna be so mad, oh no oh no-

George barreled down the street, his house in sight, tears stealing on his cheeks from the sheer speed and necessity to get home. His feet seemed to be operating without him knowing, his body throwing itself backwards and forwards with the blinding need to be home, to hug his dad and say he wasn’t going to school anymore, to ask his mom to stop packing bananas in his lunchbox even though it was his favorite snack because mom don’t you know they call me monkey boy-

“Thought you could really get away from us this time huh, Georgie boy?” Charlie had pinned him to the concrete, George’s heart screaming in his ears. He could barely register that his lip was bleeding, and that maybe if he focused on the sky, his eleven year old shrimp of a body wouldn’t feel-

Pow.

Isn’t that what superheroes say? Pow? Let’s think about superheroes, Georgie, Charlie doesn’t last long with punches anyway just keep lookin’ at the sky, he thought wildly before-

Pow.

He vaguely felt his eyes roll back into his head, but he made a very clear rule to himself that he wouldn’t cry, Fred wouldn’t want him to cry, not that Fred was mean, Fred just hates seeing him cry-

Pow.

P-

And suddenly there was something off his body. He could hear punching noises but they were not aimed at George, but rather someone else. When he was able to open his eyes he saw his brother, Fred, landing blow after blow to Charlie Dooley, Charlie mewling under Fred.

“Touch my brother again, and I promise I won’t just break your nose next time, yeah?”

Art Weasley sat with his son George in the red chair in his caravan. It was George’s favorite chair, as he learned the word “red” from that chair and then equated “red” to his own hair.

Arthur had known his son would have it harder. It wasn’t his fault the boy was different, he loved him just the same for it if not slightly more so for the way he was a bit quieter, the way he listened and thought and thought and then wanted to make choices. The way he asked his mom if he could pack Fred’s lunches for school because only George knew Fred hated crunchy peanut butter sandwiches with white bread.

But more so for the way George wasn’t afraid to show love. To cry. To feel things Art sometimes couldn’t articulate.

George was curled into his father, tears staining his button up shirt and his body shuddering with every anxiety laden breath. Art put a hand on his son’s back and put his lips to his hair.

“George, you have to breathe for me or you’re gonna get sick.” He rubbed his son’s back soothingly.

“I’m sorry, dad, I promised I did what you said and tried to protect myself and when I couldn’t do anything else I just didn’t look at h-him I p-promise, dad p-please don’t be mad at me...” he took another shudder and released a cry into his father’s shoulder. Art was not a helpless man, but there was something that destroyed and cracked his very soul at the sight of his most vulnerable child, the most angelic of his seven children. The one that everyone protected. And at times like these, sometimes all a father can do is hold his child. So that’s what he did.

“I know, son...I know...”

“George?”

George jumped out of his thoughts, his palms sweaty from the inevitable stage fright that always accompanied him before a show. It was no matter how many times he grazed the trapeze with his sister Gin and his brother Ron, the nerves were always the same.

At least this time, no pows would be administered from anyone besides himself.

He heard his name again, the daze breaking as he looked at his oldest brother Bill.

“George. You’ll be fine. You always are, baby brother.” He said softly, placing his hands back on, Cora (short for Corazon) the lion. George gulped and nodded, and Fred patted his back, giving a hearty wink. George smiled a small smile, clapping Fred’s forearm.

“Ready, Fred?”

Fred grinned.

“Ready, George.”

George belonged to the trapeze. The way his body seemed to elongate with grace and dexterity when he grabbed his sister, the way he gave flirty winks at the girls in the crowd, the way he never dropped a muscle unplaced-

The way their father always noticed.

Fred saw these things in his younger brother and couldn’t help the fit of jealousy in his stomach. Don’t get your tightrope in a twist, he was possibly the most proud of his brother, and his hand to God if he didn’t say he hooted his name the loudest watching him do his thing.

But he never felt like he could ever match that.

He knew his hands were meant for something greater, same as his mind. Juggling came almost as easy to the older twin as breathing, smoking cigarettes, witty banter, and sex (in no particular order). But George had something Fred didn’t have.

Approval.

Fred was, for all intents and purposes, a good person. A great person. But his habits could’ve said so much otherwise.

Fred had a nasty habit of letting his temper get the best of him. Ever since he could talk, he had taken on the role of protector to not only George, but to Ginny and Ron as well. Frequently, his hands always seemed to have more things to say than he could which says a massive fucking lot. At the ripe age of 20, he’d gotten into more bar fights and straight up blacked out sober more than his own father, and all of his other siblings. He’d been in and out of detention when he did go to school, and in and out of-

Well, you get it.

The one thing that always seemed to follow him? His charm.

Fred Weasley was a charismatic motherfucker.

And he knew it.

It was simple. All he had to do in between acts was make a couple jokes, a few magic tricks, and by the end of his little charade? He’d have at least 3 girls lined up for that night. And if he was in a particularly bad mood?

Well, it could get a little more than that.

On nights like this, he was fine with just two.

I mean...Fred knew what he was doing.

And on a night like this - he was damn proud of it.

Until he saw you...

Last night.

Fred’s dessert was named Candy. He honestly couldn’t remember what her actual name was, but he did remember she said:

“Call me Candy. I taste like it, too.”

And honestly? That was really all he needed.

It didn’t take him long to press her small body against his caravan. She wound her arms around his neck and fisted into his flame colored hair and yanked, his hips rolling as he moaned into her lipstick stained mouth.

Fred always did have a thing for gals in red.

Fred realized his pants had begun to be a tad too tight, as Candy’s tongue licked into his mouth. his hands found their way under her dress, fingers kneading at her thighs and she squeaked. He lifted her legs at her noise and he wrapped them around his body, his bulge pressing into where she needed him the most.

“Fred, please” she whined, his mouth attaching to the valley of her breasts, the exposed skin of her dress warm and inviting.

“Please what, doll?” He teased roughly, his free hand sliding to cup her ass and squeezing. She gasped at his rough touch and he bit her collarbone.

“Fred, please, fuck me” she said airily. He smirked before pressing a quick kiss to her mouth.

“Absolutely, baby, see how easy that was?” He licked her bottom lip and bit, before pressing his forehead to hers, the sheer strength of his body pressing her against the van enough to use his hands to pull her panties down enough for her to kick them away. She reached down to unzip his pants when he motioned for her to do so, his hard cock free of his boxers.

“You ready, pretty girl?” He growled against her earlobe. Candy whispered a breathy “please” and Fred slid into her cunt, her wetness echoing sinful noises at the contact. They groaned at connection, and Fred continued to go deeper into her until he bottomed out. He looked at her for confirmation to keep going and she nodded. He pulled out and slammed back into her, beginning to set a rough pace against the van.

“Freddie, fuckfuckfuck you feel s-so good” she sputtered, Candy’s back hitting and arching against the van, causing it to move slightly against her. Fred nipped and sucked at her neck, determined to always leave a map of where he left his treasure behind...

“Look at you, unraveling like a ball of twine. Never had cock this good, doll?” He reached a particularly good angle in her causing her to claw deeper at his back, biting in a scream.

“Thereeee it is, baby. You like that don’t you, c’mon be a good little cock slut and tell me what you want, want everyone in this whole fucking camp to know I’m fucking you so good.” His hand went to her clit, circling it harshly. He wanted her to finish, his dick was twitching all to hard in her and he needed her to release before it was his turn. Her moans and gasps and mini clawings were getting sloppier, losing their tempo.

“Fred-Fred-“

“Yeah, baby, I’ve got you” he groaned against her mouth at her clenching pussy. She gave a final sputter and screamed into his shoulder, a hot electric wave coursing over his cock, with one, two, three harder pumps, he released into her as well. He leaned his forehead against hers and kissed it lightly. But when he looked back at her face, she was already losing interest. Just like the others. But it didn’t bother him...at least not anymore, right?

Just another night.

Memories of Candy and Janie and Jessica and Portia and all the other girls seemed to wash away at the sight of you waiting after the show. Your eyes were full of life but somehow had something tired behind them. The way your hair wasn’t perfectly coiffed but still looked like you had tried to, the way your dress was crinkled at the bottom like you didn’t give a shit if it was crumpled in the bottom of your dresser.

And then you looked at him.

Fred Weasley could have sworn time stopped at the way you walked across the hay to him, your body positioned in a way that would’ve given him every reason to hold you. he realized his face began to flush at the sight of you getting closer.

That, he thought, was an alien feeling.

“Hi.” You said warmly to him.

“You’re Fred, right? I loved your act.”

He blinked twice and then returned your smile.

“Yeah. Thank you so much, I...I really try, I am so sorry but what is your name?” His eyes scanned your face. You stuck your tongue in your cheek and returned the search on his face.

“Y/N. Y/L/N. I’m looking for a job.”

#fred weasley #george weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fic rec #jenna’s fic recs

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moonbeammuses-a · 7 years ago

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Okay now I have another question :)) I hope you don't mind but I am a very curious person and love to bother people with asks. Here's my curiosity now: Is there something that determined you to create Arioch as a character or what brought him up as a muse for you?

//totally fine, ask me things anytime. :D I love when people are genuinely curious about my characters.

Arioch was an idea that tumbled around in my head for a while, even before I had this blog. I had an idea for an angel, a Grigori. Very basicallly, the lore for the Grigori is that they were meant to watch over humanity, but they were jealous of all the earthly pleasures humans had. So they went to Earth, and partook in all sorts of sinful things, creating the Nephilim and corrupting humanity, which led to the flood and the ark and all that jazz.

The idea was basically, what if there was one Grigori who didn’t betray heaven? Whose loyalty was absolute? So when the others fell and succumbed to envy, jealousy, lust, and the like, this one remained in a solitary post.

That thought developed a bit into the basis of my angel. A watcher. The First Watcher, who can see all of the Earth and its people. Who can see the paths of time, and acts where he must to lead Earth on the correct path, avoiding absolute calamity, protecting humanity. The angel loves and adores humanity, and loves watching them from the post. So much so that the angel occasionally goes to earth to walk among them, but, learning from the mistakes of the other Grigori, this one doesn’t interact directly with humanity unless absolutely necessary.

that was as far as I got with the character for a while. It was all but forgotten until one dat when I listened to the song “Through the Glass” by Stone Sour. It reminded me of my angel and I had this thought of, what if this angel, in their endless isolation, watched different humans, and without ever really meaning to, fell in love with them? Watched them from afar and never interfered. but that was as far as it went for a while.

Later, I listened to “Call Me” by Shinedown, and it was like this movie played in my head, and a story with him seemed to write itself. A SuperLock fic I might write one day (i told you about that story)

I used that little mental video, and Supernatural lore to flesh out the abilities and limitations of this being more, as well as getting an understanding of his personality and what his vessel would look like. I’d bandied about the idea of him being gender-less for a long time, before deciding that the angel is a metaphysical being which doesn’t care about gender, so instead uses the pronouns of their vessel. The angel associates with whatever gender the human vessel they inhabit is, and the vessel I use for him is male, so this angel became a he (for now)

So then I had an idea of his origin, his personality, his vessel’s appearance and their story, etc. My angel just needed a name. I did some research and took a long time deciding on his name, and when I finally picked one, I added Arioch to my muse list. Simple as that.

Since then, I’ve created Carmo as well, another angel with a much darker backstory, and there’s a large plotline for both of the characters, and it’s all becoming a world all its own. I’ve got ideas for a few other characters in the sidelines as well, like Michael, so there may also be other muses from this in the future.

#Kitty says Meow #A Prompt Reply #{{ About: Arioch }}#HC: Arioch #empireofcrime

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monotype-on-phantom · 7 years ago

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Yo, I think about this a lot but where Danny's parents just upstairs when he died???? Like wouldn't yet have heard Danny's scream of pain as he was basically murdered by his best friend????

Oh gosh.

Y’know, I was about to head to bed and address the rest of these asks in the morning, but then I saw this one and I couldn’t wait. This is a really interesting ask for various reasons, but I’ll get into that in a moment.

To start off, let’s answer your question.

Memory Blank is a flawed episode that I’d make a lot of changes to, but it’s the closest thing we’ve got to an origin episode, so let’s take a look at the scene that shows how Danny got his powers.

It’s pretty vague where Danny’s parents are, but it’s made clear he had to sneak his friends into the lab. The wording makes it easy enough to infer that they were actually not home and Danny and Jazz weren’t supposed to go into the lab.

We do also know that at least Jazz is aware of the accident, because she brings it up in My Brother’s Keeper. So, the initial screaming may not have been heard by anyone other than Sam and Tucker, because they could’ve been in Danny’s house alone, but the family was aware that Danny went into the portal and was hurt.

I do think it’s a bit harsh to say “murdered,” though. “Murder” implies the intent to kill someone, and Sam absolutely didn’t intend for that. She didn’t even force him into the portal. She just suggested it. If you wanted to pin any sort of crime on Sam here, the worst you could get is manslaughter.

Though I’d say even that’s inaccurate, because Danny’s still alive. He needs to breathe, eat, and sleep when he’s in human form, and there’s still plenty of times when he almost dies, and you can’t kill someone who’s dead already.

But that wouldn’t make a lot of sense since Danny’s also a ghost, would it?

If you’re interested in the details, this is a perfect opportunity for me to talk about the inspiration behind my view of ghosts in Danny Phantom. I’ve talked a bit about it before, but let’s get meta.

I’ll put it under a cut for those who don’t care.

Insert obligatory image of ghost with a canon backstory to keep the post interesting…

That’ll work.

I take a lot of my inspiration for ghosts in DP from the unfinished business trope and yūrei, or Japanese ghosts. The unfinished business trope is a really common one in ghost stories that’s used to keep the ghost characters interesting, as well as to give the story a clear end goal.

The idea is that the spirits of the deceased have something binding them to the physical plane that needs to be taken care of before they can rest. This can be anything from revenge for their death, passing on a message, or even just needing to realize that they’re dead.

A lot of fans bring this idea into Danny Phantom in the form of obsessions, and it’s one I like and roll with. Ghosts have an obsession that keeps them in existence, and they need to satisfy that before they can pass on to whatever afterlife you do or don’t want to believe in.

I like combining this idea with the idea of yūrei, though, because that adds another layer to the existence of ghosts that fits well with the DP universe.

The way the Japanese see ghosts is this: the way yūrei come into being is that a person feels a really strong emotion when they die, and that emotion is what binds them to the physical plane. The emotion can be anything. Rage, sadness, love, jealousy, or any number of other emotions. Similar to the idea of unfinished business, these emotions need to be addressed for the ghost to pass on.

This is a very simplified explanation, but I think it gets across the basic idea.

There are two things in particular that make yūrei stand out to me in comparison to Western ghosts, though.

First, they don’t really have a personality or consciousness outside of that emotion. This fits well in Danny Phantom because it explains the Fentons’ view on ghosts. They might’ve been human at one point, but everything that made them human is gone, replaced by a singular mindset that’s incapable of complex emotion or reasoning. They’re wrong, but if the ghosts in DP work similar to yūrei, it makes sense for them to come to that conclusion.

The second thing that really stands out to me is that a person does not have to be dead for a ghost to form.

The Japanese have a kind of spirit called ikiryō (or “living spirits”) that are formed from a person who is still alive. Much like any other Japanese ghost, there only needs to be a strong emotion and (as far as I’ve seen) a near death experience for the ghost to form. The spirit could belong to someone on their death bed who wishes to visit their loved ones before passing on, or they could just want to help someone important to them. They’re not always harmless, but they’re portrayed as so more often than many other ghosts.

It’s actually really easy to apply this idea to Danny Phantom, because ghosts are very loosely defined by Maddie as consciousness and ectoplasm. That’s all that’s needed to make up a ghost, and combining unfinished business with the idea of strong emotions taking the form of a ghost gives us all the consciousness we need.

Adding in the ectoplasm gives the story a bit more of a science fiction feel combined with the usual ghosty horror elements. We can say that ectoplasm is the glue needed to bind ghosts to the physical plane. Without that, they’d fizzle out and pass on. The consciousness or strong emotions left behind by the dead (or otherwise) latches onto ectoplasm and creates a ghost.

When you think of it like that, Danny, instead of being dead, is a human who’s DNA was infused with ectoplasm, which allowed a ghost to form around him, using his existing human consciousness as a map.

I’d say Danny has a lot more in common with an ikiryō than the spirit of a deceased person, though rather than his spirit leaving his body, the ghost merely formed around it and is now part of who he is.

Hopefully that makes sense.

This is all my personal interpretation, though, based on the ghost stories I’ve found the most interesting. You’re free to say Danny technically “died” in the portal accident. He did become a ghost, so reading it that way fits fine enough. I just don’t find that nearly as interesting as the idea of someone who is actually a ghost and a human at the same time.

Anywho, thanks to anyone who read this! I’m now off to bed because it’s really late. Hopefully this clears up some stuff I’ve talked about in the past and makes my point of view a bit more clear.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #lore #plot #Anonymous #ask me

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itscooltobefanficy · 7 years ago

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Clarence Hall- Germination (2)

Summary: Y/N has hit a dead-end in her life. Desperate to get away from her controlling mother, she takes a job as a nanny, working at an English country house caring for the Countess’ six foster children- alongside Steve Rogers and James Barnes. As the weeks pass, Y/N realises she’s beginning to find her place, and even happiness, in the chaos and laughter of Clarence Hall: but that summer something happens that turns all of their lives upside down.

Pairing: Bucky X Reader (Female pronouns)

Chapter 2/?: Germination

Word count: 3146

Warnings: None!

This is what I call a *nothing* chapter when I’m being harsh, because it’s basically scene-setting and character-building and all that jazz. Part and parcel of a long story. Love to all <3

Dinner is a loud, cheerful affair, that involves a lot requests to pass the serving spoon and don’t knock over the salt cellar, and no the dogs have their own food they don’t need any of yours. Besides a few random questions from the children, you’re allowed to sit quietly and adjust to the atmosphere. It’s a world away from silent, stilted meals of home.

After enforcing dishwashing duty (with a surprisingly low level of complaining), everyone troops through to what might once have been a drawing room, but the cavernous space is now kitted out as a playroom. You are careful to avoid treading on the Lego pieces that litter the carpet, and smile to see the stack of mattresses and covered furniture in the far corner that probably functions as a den. Maud takes what is clearly her customary seat on a throne-like armchair by the back window, and her charges scurry back and forth with schoolbooks, Meccano pieces and enormous dogs in tow. A comfortable routine unfurls in front of you. Somebody turns on what sounds like the Cars soundtrack. You end up pressganged into helping Nat with partial fractions, which, thankfully, isn’t beyond your scope (she giggles when you grumblingly wish for your algebraic calculator, which would solve this stupid problem in about 0.02 seconds). Sam starts practicing backflips. Bruce sits on the floor, enthralled by a book that’s half the size of him, detailing the creatures of the Amazon rainforest. Teacup potters around before flopping by your feet, apparently realising you’re a soft touch when it comes to belly rubs. You slide off your chair, sink your fingers into her wiry coat, and oblige.

By the time nine o clock rolls around, you’re covered in cream-coloured dog hair and feeling, to your own surprise, fairly relaxed. Steve climbs up from where he’s being swallowed by a squashy beanbag and blows a piercing whistle. Everyone stops what they’re doing- apart from the dogs, who leap to their feet and trot over to him.

“Bed, gang! School tomorrow. Everyone have their work done?”

There’s a chorus of yeses, and there’s a general rustle as six kids get to their feet and start trickling out of the room. It takes some persuasion to get Bruce to relinquish his book, but eventually he acquiesces. Maud coughs, delicately.

“I shall retire, too. Thank you for your work today.” She eases to her feet and smiles as Steve presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”You watch her shuffle out of the room. There’s a moment of silence.

“Congratulations,” Bucky says, swinging upright and grinning at you, “You made it through your first day.”

You sigh, and nearly smile. “I did.”

The music changes: soft trumpets, the swinging beat of jazz. You tick your head to where Steve stands by the speakers, and he shrugs. “Nicer ambience.”

Bucky snorts. “For the tidying?”

“No.” Steve flops back onto the beanbag with the air of a man who won’t be moved for anything, except possibly an earthquake, “For the sophisticated adult conversation we’re about to have.”

That makes Bucky scoff; he turns to you, eyebrows raised. “You hear that?! As if we don’t have sophisticated conversations.”

You raise your hands to ward off an argument. “This isn’t a debate I’m about to walk into.”

“See?” Steve wags a finger at you, “That’s a mature viewpoint. Not- ow!” Bucky’s lobbed a cushion at him, and it hits him squarely in the face. Steve wrestles the cushion away and pulls a stern face. “Go ahead and prove my point, why don’t you?”

Still laughing, Bucky drops onto the big grey sofa and pats the space beside him. “Whatever, spoilsport. Come on up, then, Y/N. If we’re going to be having sophisticated conversations, we should all be on the same level.”

You get to your feet as Steve gestures indignantly to himself (the beanbag puts him only a few inches off the floor). Bucky just smirks. “That’s what you get for taking the moral high ground so often. Need to keep you lower, so you’re on a par with us mortals.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but gives up protesting. You sit gingerly on the edge of the sofa, then realise that you can pull your legs up without anyone telling you not to, so you curl up in a ball and rest your chin on your knees. It might not be the most comfortable position, but rebellion is sweeter than any ache in your spine.

“So…” Bucky gestures with his hand, clearly biting back a grin, “Anyone actually got any sophisticated topics of conversation?”

You shift a little to lean against the cushions and shrug. Steve shoots a glare at Bucky and clears his throat, but doesn’t say anything.

“Suppose we could get the backstory stuff out of the way,” Bucky says, easily, “Though I’m not sure it counts as sophisticated.”

“Don’t let Peg hear you say that,” Steve warns, idly, and Bucky’s eyes widen in agreement.

“Peg?” You ask. Steve eyes you for a moment, then shares a fleeting look with Bucky, who scrutinises you in turn. Then he pulls a face.

“Might as well tell her now. She’ll find out you’re a sexual deviant soon enough.”

Steve looks carefully around for errant children, then flashes the finger. “You’re not funny, Buck. Not funny at all. OK,” He turns back to you, “I’m in a polyamorous relationship with two women, Peggy and Angie.”

“Is that going to be a problem?” Bucky asks, bluntly.You blink, staring at the pair of them. Of all the things you’d expected him to say…“Like- a triad?” You ask, carefully. This is all a bit outside your experience (besides that joke about the knight and polyarmoury, which you still find hilarious) and you don’t want to be disrespectful. Your question seems to have sent the right signals, though- Steve visibly relaxes.

“Yeah, exactly like that.”

Bucky just gives you an approving nod. Your curiosity waxes stronger in response, and you lean forward.

“So, Peggy’s one of your partners?”

“Yep. Angie’s the other.”

“They call each other girlfriend and boyfriend, in case you were nervous about using the term,” Bucky adds in, helpfully.

“And what do they do?” You ask.

“Angie works on the West End, in the costume department in one of the big theatres. Peg…”

“Peg does something very secret for Her Majesty’s government,” Bucky’s answer is punctuated with a wink, so you can’t be sure if he’s joking or not. Steve doesn’t contradict him, though.

“What about you? A hot physics partner waiting back home?” At your expression, Bucky shrugs. “I read your CV.”

For a moment, you think back on your degree: on coming home at seven each night, locking the door behind you, ignoring friend requests and messages for three miserable years- then you shake your head.

“No. No partner, physics or otherwise.”

No hint of the bitterness underlying your words seeps into your tone, and Bucky and Steve just nod their acceptance.

“Fair enough. The parents down in the village are fairly relaxed about it, though I’m sure it helps that Peg and Ang aren’t here a lot of the time.” Steve’s voice is resigned, and you frown sympathetically, distracted from your own unsatisfactory history.

“When are they next home?” Bucky asks, and Steve sends him an exasperated expression. Bucky heaves a sigh. “Look, I can tell you that Clint has shooting practice tomorrow, Sam and Rhodey are going to the playing field to have a kick about, and that Nat has a spelling test next week, but if I tried to fit any more schedules up here I would explode.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Peg’s down this weekend. Angie can’t make it for at least another two weeks.”

“Shame.” Bucky yawns through the word. “They’re like fairy godmothers to the kids. One wave of a magic wand and all their problems disappear.”

“In a swirl of coding and face paint,” Steve says, idly, and although his voice is casual the sheer love behind his words is clear to hear. Your heart squeezes in- jealousy? Longing? You can’t be sure, and before you have time to ponder it, Bucky is getting to his feet.

“Call me a lightweight, but I’m going to bed. After I’ve put this godforsaken Lego away.”

You snort, and clamber up to help. “It’s the most painful thing in the universe. Scientifically proven.”

“Oh, is it?” Steve asks, teasing, and you nod, seriously.

“I did my dissertation on it, actually.”

Their laughter is soft and warm, and when you say goodnight, you can’t believe how normal you feel.You should have known it couldn’t last.

That first night, you hardly sleep. The bed is too hard; the covers too heavy; the curtains too thin. The night is clear and verging on cold, the way an English spring often lapses back into sudden chill, and moonlight seeps in through the window to bleach out the room. Fairy-light, Aunt Liv used to call it. It’s been years since you’ve thought about that.

The dream, your usual dream, leaves you shaking and sweating and verging on crying out. You stifle any sounds behind your hand and switch on the light sitting awake until the dawn steals across the sky, and it’s safe to get up.

When everyone else is up, a military operation swings into action. You smile around your yawns, jamming slices of bread into the toaster as Sam scampers around the kitchen wearing a fuzzy lavender cardigan and Clint plays a game with Nat that seems to involve a lot of toes being crushed by the wheelchair tracks. Your nightmare is swiftly washed away by sleepy, childish voices and the smell of breakfast.

“Sam, you look great, but that’s not permitted under uniform rules,” Bucky says, amiably, then sticks his head around the kitchen door, “Tony! Ten minutes until lift-off!”

Steve and Bruce are attacking Hrothgar’s coat with a dog brush, an indignity the hound bears with an appropriate expression of long-suffering. Rhodey is tearing through the shoe rack, brandishing one trainer and muttering threats under his breath. The rest of the pack snuffle around the table, hunting for crusts.

“Y/N, can you grab Hulk’s harness?” Steve asks.

“It’s on the drawers in my room,” Bruce adds, helpfully.

“And knock on Tony’s door when you’re down there,” Bucky tells you, “Kid’s probably trying to hack the Pentagon as we speak.”

You disregard Bucky’s assertion (after all, Tony is twelve years old), but nod and step outside.

You find the dog harness easily enough- pausing to throw a selection of dirty clothes into the laundry hamper- and rap your knuckles on Tony’s door. “Tony! Five-minute warning!”

“Just a second,” Comes the reply. You give him thirty before knocking again.

“I think Bucky said something to the effect of hacking can wait until this evening,” You call, and there’s a scuffling noise.

A head of dark hair appears around the door, and brown eyes give you an exasperated expression. “Fine. But if you’re going to stay, you’ve got to start calling the dads by their proper names.” He bustles past you, schoolbag swinging.

“What did he mean?” You ask, when the hordes have stampeded out of the door and begun their walk to school, “Your proper names?”

Bucky groans into his mug of tea; Steve snickers.

“You can take this one, Stevie,” Bucky grumbles, and Steve claps him consolingly on the shoulder.

“Every summer, we have a proper holiday for the kids,” He explains, “Pitch the tents at the bottom of the garden, cook over a fire, all that. Last year, somebody-”

“Clint,” Bucky interjects, darkly.

“- Decided to hold a vote over who was the coolest dad out of the two of us. And, due to-”

“Blatant favouritism-”

“My natural charisma and charm, I won. Which means that I am officially known as Rad Dad.”

Steve sounds so satisfied with this that you burst out laughing.

“You think that’s funny?” Bucky sounds like he’s trying to be very serious, but is very tempted to start giggling, too, “They decided that my appropriate title was Granddad.”

The three of you dissolve into laughter.

“I’m dreading getting assigned a nickname now,” You say, when you can breathe again. “Rad dad, Granddad and…”

“Don’t even try to predict it,” Bucky says. “It’s one of those things that happens horrifyingly quickly and it’s utterly irreversible.”

“Like kids in general,” Steve adds, wryly, and the two of them laugh.

“How did you end up here?” You ask, suddenly curious. They exchange a look.

“I advertised,” Maud’s voice answers, as the kitchen door opens and the dogs leap into a frenzy, “And Steven replied. James joined him some months afterwards.” The old lady gives you a pleasant smile. “They proved to be somewhat indispensable.”

“Always nice to hear such glowing praise this early in the morning,” Bucky grins, “Tea, Maud?”

“You know that I appreciate your courtesy in asking,” She says, in a dignified voice, “But the answer is always yes, James.”

James? You frown, and make a mental note to ask about it later, as Bucky gets up to fill the kettle.

Later, however, has to wait. Over the next few hours, there’s more laundry than an army would generate to put through the rickety washing machine; then there are bathrooms to clean, towels to peg on the line, dogs to let out and gather back in again. Steve fires up an alarmingly ancient-looking vacuum cleaner, which sends all of the dogs scurrying into the boot room, and the three of you move through the house together, brandishing dusters to flick over the reams of furniture. There’s a fridge to inventory, and lunch to cobble together from the remnants left inside- and straight afterwards, Steve says something about guttering and a stepladder.

“Need any help?” You ask, but they shake their heads in tandem.“We’ll be fine. You could get out in the garden, if you like?” Bucky offers. “There’s a trunk full of coats and jumpers in the boot room.”

You nod, and get up from the table, excitement starting to cautiously bubble in your chest. “Any idea where the gardening supplies are?”

“I keep the basics in the shed behind the privet hedge,” Steve answers, and you thank him and head into the boot room. No time to waste. There’s a garden out there crying for attention.

You dig through the gigantic carved chest in the boot room until you find an extraordinarily hideous yellow jumper and a lumpy woollen hat; both are pulled on, along with your cracked pair of wellingtons. Then you open the back door and go in search of the shed.

The beds on the back patio bear the full brunt of your first attentions. They are choked with straggling weeds and the remnants of long-dead roots, the soil crumbling and moist as you wrench the gnarled remains from the depths. A light drizzle begins to fall; you hunch your shoulders and carry on. Your muscles begin to feel it, slowly but surely. Your back starts to throb. You don’t stop. That’s part of the joy of it, paying the tax of exacting transformation. After two hours, you have a mound of debris, dirt showered everywhere, and three flowerbeds bare and empty, ready to receive whatever you should choose to plant.

There are five more to go, but still. Progress.

Before dinner, the illusion of peaceable companionship between the six pre-teenagers is thoroughly shattered. They bicker and snap at one another, the fracas ebbing and flowing as Bucky and Steve are constantly forced to step in. Only Rhodey seems above it all, frowning at the grain of the table as the arguments fizzle across his head. You can empathise.

“Hey,” Steve nudges your shoulder, then raises his voice, “Seeing as Rhodey is the only one who’s not making a solitary hut on the slopes of Kilimanjaro look appealing right now, he can take Y/N down to the vegetable stall and find something to cook. The rest of you-”

“Sit down and shut up!” Bucky roars. You jump; but the kids all immediately assume expressions of amused contrition. Then they do as he says.

“I’ll see you suckers later,” Rhodey smirks, then gets up from the table as a wave of protest rises up from his siblings.

“Don’t antagonise them,” Steve tuts.

Rhodey takes a jam jar out from behind the mug tree and takes out a handful of change, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Fine. Come on, then.”

You pull on your shoes and follow him out.

The sky is still grey, but the rain has finally moved on, and although the wind is cold it’s not bone-chilling. Rhodey walks along with his hands in his pockets, a smug grin still hanging around his face.

“Grandad’s not that scary, you know,” He says, when you’re clear of the straggling pine trees and heading down the drive, “He’s just got the loudest voice.”

A smile twitches at the edge of your mouth. “He need to use it a lot?”

Rhodey frowns, thinking about it. Then another grin pushes out, a little kid grin, full of mischief and possibility. “Nah. We’re all perfect.”

Laughter bursts out of you; nervous laughter, tight with the newness of it all, but Rhodey doesn’t seem to notice. You walk down to the village together, through the narrow streets lined with big houses, until you find Rosemary’s vegetable stall, which is just a trestle table strewn with trays and dirt. Rosemary herself is sat in a deckchair, wrapped in a coat with a terrier on her knees, and she smiles when she sees Rhodey drawing closer.

“Hello!” The terrier jumps down to come and enthusiastically sniff Rhodey’s trainers.

“Hey, Rosemary,” Rhodey gestures to you as he draws up to the table, “This is Y/N. She’s helping up at the house.”

She gets up to shake your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

You return the gesture, feeling the dry skin, the cracks. Gardener’s hands. If you looked, there’d be grime around her cuticles.

“What are you growing?” You ask her, reflexively, and her eyes light up.

In the end, you only leave to walk back home because Rhodey’s getting impatient and your watch is ticking closer to dinner time. Your head buzzes with ideas.

“Rhodey,” You ask, as you pass between the gates, heading back up the drive, “Where’s the nearest gardening centre?”

Rhodey just rolls his eyes. “I can see why Aunt Maud likes you.”

You smile. “I like her, too.”

He casts you a look, then, testing for a lie. When he doesn’t find one, he nods. All that’s left is for the two of you to savour the last few minutes of silence, before the back door opens to admit you into the house once more.

AN: I start work next Tuesday (!!!!!!!) so writing will take even more of a back seat :’( Love to all (again) <3

Tag list: @brooklyn-to-battlefields; @hollycornish; @merakily-exhausted; @basicwhiskeyprincesss; nilssonelinnn; @moist-bread1234; @siobhanrebecca; fandoms-who; @marvelrevival; @buckys-wintersavior; @lookfxrme; @kissingwintergoodbye; @buckybabybaby; @dr-vengence; @vintagesaph; @thewinterchildren; @lovepizza-cake11; @iamwarrenspeace; @thefridgeismybestie; @allyp1023

#bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #Clarence Hall #Clarence Hall Chapter Two

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nytigress · 7 years ago

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something you liked and didn't like about the MJ portrayal in the Raimi movies?

CURIOUS ANONS | meme.

oh my. well, it’s been awhile since i’ve watched these films ! but as soon as my dad goes to bed ( COME ON MAN !!! ), i plan to watch them throughout the night because insomnia is just the greatest. & since i just finally got the chance to watch them … hereeee goes ! this is kind of a long post because i went through each film ( yes ! all three ! ) out of sheer boredom & curiosity tbh.

THINGS THAT WERE LIKED ;

SPIDERMAN

mj sticking up for peter on the bus

pushing flash away while on the school trip

her interest in spiders

being observant enough to not that there were only 14 spiders

her modeling for peter with lowkey flirting

sad mj becoming happy mj the moment her friends pull up after her dad verbally abuses her

mj trying to reason with flash & stop him from his rage-filled rampage, trying to get him to see some reason.

her fleeing from the yelling and conflict of her parents

mj being popular but genuinely nice

genuine!mj with peter & popular!mj with flash

mary jane’s lack of confidence when talking about what she wants to do after high school - probably because she’s been told she’s gonna be worthless & amount to nothing like her mother. and school counselors aren’t exactly receptive to kids who want to be stars.

her strength when breaking up with flash

mj saying “buzz off” thinking peter calling her is some dude trying to cat call her

her attitude at enrique.

self-consciousness about waitressing, not wanting harry to know.

lying about her having auditions & living her dream

admitting that she lied & telling the truth.

mj wearing the red dress instread of the black dress

“watch out !” - helping spidey fight goblin despite facing her death

not wanting harry to buy her something to “feel better”

mj being surprised someone is interested in her life

mj fighting back against the thugs

despite wanting to know spidey’s identity, she respects his wishes by only uncovering his lips for the thank you kiss

mj’s intuition making her feel uneasy about unhinged!norman

“thanks for sticking up for me harry.” - the sarcasm.

apologizing to aunt may despite being super upset about what norman said

visiting aunt may in the hospital the morning after she’s attacked, bringing flowers.

“spiderman watch out !”

her need for only a little bit of reassurance from spidey when told to climb down the cable to the cable car despite being terrorized and tossed to her death

mary jane being at norman’s funeral

mj accepting herself

mj’s speech to peter & the courage it took to admit her feelings ( guess near - death experiences do that ? )

mj figuring out peter is spidey through that kiss

mj being okay with her & peter just being friends - not yelling at him or expecting he feel the same

SPIDERMAN 2

mj on a billboard !

mj being at peter’s birthday party

mj in plays

mj returning to her old friends & childhood home despite being in the spotlight

giving peter his time & space

mj’s voicemail - “sing your song @ the beep. beep !”

throwing her keys @ the phone while peter is talking

“bingo !” - the sass listening to pete’s voicemail

mj’s “you done fucked up” speech to peter - “you’re nothing but an empty seat.”

her focusing on peter during her performance, whispering that little “hi.”

“you complicate things !”

“i have to go !” - hailing a cab & running from anymore of that conversation

“do you love me or not ?”

“kiss me, i need to know something.”

her mouthy - ness @ doc ock.

“he’s not dead. i don’t believe you.”

mary jane not running but picking up that beam to try to beat up doc ock

“hi.”

“you do love me.”

mj just letting him give her the “we can never be speech.” & not fighting back.

“respect me enough to make my own decision.”

tHAT WHOLE SPEECH.

“i’ve always been standing in your door way.”

“isn’t it about time somebody saved your life ?”

“gO GET ‘EM, TIGER.”

SPIDERMAN 3

MARY JANE WATSON’S NAME IN LIGHTS

that old hollywood - esque singing voice on point.

“you are such a nerd.”

stargazing !!!!

mj staying friends with harry despite how their relationship dissolved

“it’s like my father wrote them” - mj still fighting her father’s abuse.

the anger over the kiss !! their kiss !!! completely warranted imo

“you have no idea what i’m feeling.”

jealousy over gwen.

“when you kissed her who was kissing her spiderman or peter ?”

“that was OUR kiss.” - i knOW GIRL, I WAS PISSED TOO.

mj running away from the conflict, running away when she’s upset.

mj picking up the phone after standing there & listening to peter’s voicemail !!!

mj being there for peter despite how their dinner went.

“i wanna be here for you.”

“everybody needs help sometimes, peter, even spiderman.”

mary jane reaching out to harry

the dancing scene in the kitchen with harry

breaking up with peter to protect him, to save his life because his life matters more than their happiness ( fuck you, evil!harry )

mary jane in the jazz club - choosing something where she can pay the bills & work on singing live.

“i’m fine.”

mj stepping in to break up the fight in the jazz club.

“peter, they’re going to kill us both.” - i.e. babe this is some serious shit

mj throwing the cinder block at venom, fighting to help spidey as usual.

mary jane leaping from the taxi without a second thought to save herself

“you okay ?” mj, after nearly dying numerous times: “yeah.”

mj running to be with harry in his last moments instead of staying safe

“and so i’m through with love” - that song she sings at the end. so perfect.

leaving the microphone to embrace peter.

THINGS THAT WEREN’T LIKED ;

SPIDERMAN

her flighty-ness

not fighting back against her father ( gimme some of that mj temper )

“don’t tell harry” — being so worried about a man’s opinion of her.

not 100% fond of her treatment of harry.

mj being unsure of spiderman’s intention. “do you believe what all the paper’s say ?” – he saved your ass twice already, would you quit !

SPIDERMAN 2

“i’m seeing somebody.” - just to make it clear that she’s moving on … on his birthday tho … eh.

“ugh i don’t know.” - so we’re keeping peter on the hook then or ?

“don’t disappoint me.” - sighs.

accepting the marriage proposal ( most likely done out of spite to prove she’s moving on ) - not cool

using her fiance to figure out her feelings for peter aS SHE’S FILLING OUT WEDDING INVITATIONS

mj leaving her husband to be at the altar with no proper explanation but some letter.

the “runaway bride” trope - mj wouldn’t even let it get to that point, hell, peter’s proposal in the comics did not go well the first time around.

SPIDERMAN 3

“tell me you love me” - facepalms

the insecurity is kinda annoying. ( but part of me can justify it as this is the first time she’s really letting someone in & loving someone & being vulnerable )

obsessing over critics like she somehow forgot critics existed.

being upset when peter leaves to do spidey things … despite “knowing what she’s signing up for” as she said in the previous film

that little look of jealousy when spidey is getting applause from the city.

being “happy for him” but not really seeming like it when he walks away

initiating the kiss with harry.

the leading harry on & encouraging that

painting mj as a shallow cheater.

& MY INCESSENT RAMBLING ;

so raimi!mj possesses some of the characteristics of comic!mj. they have her personality mostly. the backstory is different & the time she meets peter & harry are also different but i can’t seem to really mind it. what i love is her strength, it’s emphasized again & again. she rises from the ashes of a broken home, moves out & does what she has to support herself without asking for any help, especially from her current ( very rich ) boyfriend. she works tirelessly to achieve her dream, auditions, modeling, most likely drama classes & she ends up in a very successful play with a very successful role - now her singing debut was less than stellar according to the critics but let’s not talk about that now. she’s a fighter. they proved that for the most part, emphasized when in moments of danger or distress.

what i don’t like is her using an engagement & a serious seeming relationship with someone as a testing ground to see if she loves someone else or not. that’s not fair to the man who proposed to her nor prolonging it to the point he’s at the altar waiting for her. i’m also not fond of how she treats harry when they are together but that’s a whole mess of a relationship anyway. mary jane isn’t too keen on the idea of marriage in the comics so much so that she refuses peter’s first proposal ! bouncing between both of the boys is kinda shitty too - she’s either with one or the other but unfortunately always lowkey holds a candle for peter. also, painting her as the type to cheat & seek attention & support elsewhere instead of facing her problems & talking with peter ( which is what brings them together in the first place in the comics … opening up to each other ) is not cool.

#( dear lawd ... am i adding a raimi verse ? )#( long post for ts )#♛ | ❛ ( grey peasant )

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jaygtfo · 8 years ago

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yo yo yO so hey there i’m mel and i’m 22 from the cst timezone!! bear with me as i attempt to traverse jay’s backstory as i usually come up with all this stuff off the top of my head and then decide 5 minutes after i post it that i wanted something completely different but anywAY if u wanna check this bitch out, just click below (~:

so a bit about jay:

grew up in long island, ny with her parents and brother

her father created an internationally successful electronics company that creates phones, computers, computer software, video game consoles and games themselves, audio players, etc etc and all that jazz

which clearly shows that her father’s brain works in a very logical and specific way, as if he’s hardwired like a circuit board

her mother is much the same way (they met at MIT) and they basically created the company together

jay was kind of unexpected aka her mother became pregnant with her barely two years out of college right as they were in the midst of building their company

because of this she was often left with nannies (as her grandparents were still pretty young and busy with their own careers to help out)

many of them only stayed a year or so except for one nanny jay had when she was about thirteen

she definitely wasn’t the best at her job, but her parents were doing SO well they just needed someone to watch jay and so they took whoever would deal with the miserable hours and demands

this nanny (named jolene) would clean the house while listening to super loud punk rock and grunge music and spent a lot of her time teaching jay about all her favorite bands and all the concerts she’d been to and all the drugs she’d done etc

jolene would buy jay shirts and posters and albums and even taught her how to play guitar, but she still wasn’t that good at her job

she let jay stay home from school a lot to hang out and would take her to concerts with adults way older than her and her grades just plummeted as did her attitude

the first time she told her parents off she was fourteen, and after seeing the effect jolene had on their daughter, jay’s parents fired her and told her never to see their daughter again

CLEARLY upset, jay acted out by breaking as much as she possibly could in their house (all the expensive stuff she knew her parents loved) but they were all things she knew could be replaced

as jay grew up she realized how much she really despised the money she’d been born into and the material obsession her parents held, thus crushing their relationship more and more

she continued to skip classes and barely graduated high school, and even though she was one of the richest kids in her school, she spent most of her time playing music with kids she’d met at a concert

she took a year off to figure out what she wanted and decided to try going to college for sound engineering

with her parental relationship still strained, she thought maybe this would help patch things up but nOPE

the company exploded even more and basically her parents just siphoned her money through a bank account and paid her tuition and just left it at that

having so much pent up rage and jealousy over her parents indifference towards her yet love for money, jay discovered just how angry she could become

she barely passed each year of college her junior year when her parents completely forgot her birthday because of a new addition they were adding onto their house (which had taken so much priority she was told not to come home because she’d just mess everything up)

THAT was the last straw—jay came home furious and decided her parents’ materiality was the true cause of their wilting relationship, and thus she ransacked the place and set fire to the new addition and let it consume almost half the house

it wasn’t too long after that her parents tried contacting her to ask if she knew anything about the house, but lied and said, “you told me to stay at school, remember?”

a month or so after the fire, jay asked for all money to be cut off because she wanted to live for herself

wow that was waY too long, but if u wanna plot hmu!! or like this and perhaps i’ll come to you (~:

#don't read this #all that matters is like the last 5 bullet points #┊☾ *ﾟooc #sorry i had work :')#then i spent $90 on books :')

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

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A Celebration of Women of Color in Anime

Anime has always meant a lot to me as a person of color. I didn't see much of myself in my surroundings growing up, and even though I'm mixed Filipinx and not Japanese, it felt valuable to me that anime was an Asian-created medium. There were far more limits in terms of exposure and what you could readily learn about underrepresented cultures in the years before the internet became more widely accessible. As a result, early TV and video exposure to anime helped me indirectly feel proud of my own heritage.

I generally relate to media depictions of women more than men, so it should come as no surprise that women of color in anime comprise some of my favorite fictional characters, period. Though woefully misrepresented in all kinds of media, here's a non-hierarchical list of anime WOC who are respectfully depicted, nuanced, and poignant role models for our own lives too. Read on for more!

Nadia — Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water

A series known for its tumultuous production and Hideaki Anno's distinct directorial hand, Nadia: The Secret of Blue Water is an aquatic adventure anime from the early '90s. The main character, Nadia, is a young woman of color searching for the truth about her past — and the secret of her blue-jeweled pendant.

One of Nadia's crowning traits is her connection with animals and the care she displays for them. Nadia communicates easily with King, her lion cub sidekick, and openly detests meat and hunting. The show also makes it clear that Nadia is a *gasp* vegetarian. It was pretty rare in the '90s for any show to feature a positive portrayal of vegetarians, so it's pretty cool to see her depicted as a genuinely caring animal-lover and not some meat-hating caricature.

Nadia is an "imperfect" heroine in the sense that she actually comes across like a real person with real struggles. She is (justifiably) prone to distrust others, can act hot-headed, grapples with intense depression, and doesn't always give people like Jean and Nemo the benefit of the doubt. Nadia's tendencies and behavior make perfect sense given her awful and abusive childhood, and that makes her one of the most interesting anime protagonists out there.

Yoruichi Shihōin — Bleach

In Bleach, Yoruichi's coolness factor is off the charts. She can outrun Byakuya (one of the most powerful captains), knows how to help you achieve Bankai in three days, and can also transform from a black cat into a human at will. If Soul Society had its own version of LinkedIn, Yoruichi's resume would be top tier — it's no small feat to be the former Onmitsukidō commander and former 2nd captain of the Gotei 13.

Finally, much like the rest of the cast of Bleach, Yoruichi possesses a simple yet keen sense of style. Can you think of anyone over a century old who can wear purple and beige striped arm wraps and orange apparel with such finesse? I thought not.

Carole — Carole and Tuesday

Shinichiro Watanabe's new show Carole and Tuesday is yet another music fan's dream. While Kids on the Slope focused on Jazz, Watanabe's new outing hones in on pop singer/songwriters. One central message in the show is simple, yet timeless: Pursue your creative expression by staying true to yourself, and keep your creative fire safe from societal pressures intent on manipulating and/or extinguishing your gift. And with a Black woman — Carole — as one of the lead protagonists, this important message feels even more moving and powerful.

A Black woman as a lead character is the exception rather than the rule in the world of media, which is a disturbing reflection of larger oppressive social structures. That's why it feels refreshing to see a respectful portrayal in the form of Carole. We first meet her as an impoverished teenager in a big city without parents or a support network. Despite the financial and social odds stacked against her, Carole still longs to express herself and create a loving community through the power of music. Her dedication to her own creative integrity is a joy to watch, and as a musician myself, I found legitimate personal solace in her drive to be as artistically genuine as possible.

One of my favorite things about Carole is the ego-free support, sense of awe, and goodwill she displays toward other musicians. There's barely a hint of jealousy or competition between Carole and her main musical partner, Tuesday. The two get along amazingly well despite a few roadblocks, and Carole consistently honors their shared creative spirit. She even voices repeated praise for a rival musician named Angela, despite Angela's antagonistic remarks against the series' duo. As another impressive feat, Carole also manages to revive the joy of seasoned — and occasionally downtrodden — musicians due to her infectious creative passion. How can you not love such an inspirational character?!

Anthy Himemiya — Revolutionary Girl Utena

Revolutionary Girl Utena, is, well, revolutionary for a number of reasons. The show tackles gender essentialism head-on and makes some hefty statements about the toxicity of conventional social norms. Utena is an incredible character who challenges the classic patriarchal notions associated with princedom. I'd argue though, that her partner Anthy Himemiya is the true star of the show. Without going into spoilers, Anthy is key to one of the biggest themes in the show: That for its own selfish gain, society is willing to endlessly enact cruel rigidity and heartlessness against women. It'd be both reductive and missing the larger point though, to interpret Anthy as a defenseless, subservient victim controlled by the harshness of a misogynistic culture. On the contrary, Anthy is perhaps the strongest figure in the entire series. Anthy does (at least in some ways) behave according to the interest of others, but she ultimately asserts her own worth and personal agency in a way that truly embodies the show's beautiful core. There are plenty of fascinating, insightful articles that go into depth about Revolutionary Girl Utena's symbolism and topics, so be sure to check some out. Anthy is a phenomenal character who stands out as one of the most memorable depictions of self-love, showing it's never too late to define your own life according to your needs, desires, and dreams.

Casca — Berserk

Berserk is likely my favorite manga, and undoubtedly my favorite work of dark fantasy. I always pair that praise with a very cautionary recommendation due to the intense gore and many disturbing sexual depictions throughout the series. While it's up to each individual to decide their limits in terms of extreme content, Kentaro Miura (the creator) softens Berserk's more unseemly edges by featuring sympathetic protagonists who organically evolve, and who are driven by immense love and support for one another in spite of a horrifyingly bleak world. That said, I find the central character Casca to be one of the strongest and most nuanced women in all of fiction. It's rare enough for a dark-skinned woman to be depicted at all in most media, and rare still for her to be given proper depth and well-deserved narrative development. Fortunately, Berserk gives us both.

In the Band of the Hawk arc — the first lengthy saga in Berserk, covered by the three recent films and the '90s anime — Casca is introduced as a well-regarded figure within the ranks of her mercenary brigade. Although she's portrayed as a strong fighter and a capable leader, the series deploys many different elements that prevent a one-sided characterization of Casca. For example, her tragic backstory highlights not only her strength and will to survive but also lends added weight to why she's so watchful of her comrades. After Casca is sent away by her own family as a child, she gains a new one in the form of the Band of the Hawk, and — much like a protective older sister — leads many of her men to safety on more than one occasion. The life and attachments Casca forges from the hell of her childhood imbues her character with skillfulness, tenacity, and meaningful emotional capacity.

The love between Casca and Guts is a genuinely moving, reciprocal bond. While it's true that Guts saves Casca from demons on many occasions (which carries more than a hint of the misogynistic damsel-in-distress cliche), it's also true that Guts is saved from his lonely life largely because of Casca's love and presence. Though there's plenty to critique about the notion that masculine dependency is evidence of a healthy relationship, overall I find that Guts and Casca exhibit selfless, mutual gestures of love that challenge standard relational dynamics.

It can't be stressed enough how pivotal Casca is to Berserk's central storyline. Her badass skills as a fighter, coupled with her nuanced backstory and emotional depth, makes her one of my favorite anime characters of all time.

Each anime in this list offers a uniquely touching testament to women of color. While by no means an exhaustive list, I hope you enjoyed it!

Are there other women of color from your favorite anime who aren't listed here? Let us know in the comments!

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saynoutodrugs · 7 years ago

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