#why not make all men as beautiful and cool like slash is??

[nekassvariigs]

Rayleigh x reader

18+ ,NSFW, p0rn with plot, Face-fucking,Face-sitting, slight tying up, bit of dom x sub, only other thing i can list on is cum.

Well toned back, glistening in sweat and dirt, his muscles bulging with each slash he made, the way his muscles tensed as he prepared for another jab sent a plesant tingle down your spine, you bit your nail stuck in a trance like state watching him.

Sweat trickling down his back, it looked like he was sprayed with massage oil, the way his skin shined, your eyes slowly dropping to his waist checking out every muscle on his body a human eye could possible observe, his trained muscles showcased his v-line all the way from the back hazing your mind with drunk passion.

He had little dimples on the very end of his back making you question how good theyd look while hes hovering over you.

The sun was scorching that day, whoever wore shirts tossed them away within minutes, leaving you to watch a sea of shirtless men training.

It was like a dream come true for a woman your age.

"Mmhn~" you groaned frustrated with how easily you can get distracted, not like youre to blame. You had trained days prior leaving you to laze in the shade as you watched the delicious men do their thing.

One by one they started taking breaks which was your cue to go take a dip before they got too close.

Wearing a bikini and a very fitting see through robe you lowered it letting it sit on your waist as you waited for a specific man to come.

His body shimmering, clothes drenched he approached you taking a drink of water with a loud exhale.

"Going for a swim already?" he asked wiping the sweat from his brow, his entire complexion stretching.

Fuck.

"Only fair right, cant get a heatstroke now can i?" you dropped your mesh robe expsoing your cute butt.

Raighleys eyes trailed you slowly taking in every inch of your body aswell as beauty.

He appriciated your looks from a distance as always never daring to step closer to you. Your tan body never leaving his sight as your frame slowly dissapearded in the sea.

"Inspecting the goods again vice-capitan?" a crewman laughed teasing him. He only closed his eyes half smirking at the remark.

"Shoulda seen the way she was looking at me. Like a hawk that woman." He took another sip, sitting on your beach chair trailing his abs with your robe as a towel.

He smirked feeling the fabric alone, such skimpy garments, where do they make these?

After a good cool dip you stepped out drying your hair on the way back. Water leaving a trail in the sand where you once walked.

"Hows the water?" Raighley asked your robe scrunched up in his lap.

"Amazing." You spoke squeezing out the water from your swimsuits top, water trickling down your waist.

This didnt go unnoticed as the foxy man now had his chance to take you in.

The turmoil you caused in his body could only be described as setting an house of fire.

"You'll get cold." He offered the robe he used to wipe his sweat with back to you.

You noticed it being wet in a couple of spots asking the blonde man why

"Dont know, picked it up that way, any problem with it?" he smiled through his teeth knowing all too well what he did with it.

Skimpy garment on he couldnt hold back to think "Atta girl."

"For the record it smells funny, you defenetly did something with it." You could just feel the scent of sweat on you such an odd yet intoxicating smell.

"Didnt touch it." He put his hands behind his back resting in the cool shade, his abs flexing slightly as he found a comfy spot, his chest in full view to you.

You smiled looking down at him, taking your drink that laid beside him, covering your chest with your hand.

Such sweet tension the two of you had, silent yearning for eachothers presence, body, mind.

"LETS TAKE A DIP!" Roger shouted behind you stripping naked as he ran to the sea.

Raighley rose up dropping his garments aswell as did everyone a line of men stark naked as babies running for it full speed.

You laughed sipping your drink as you inspected the belt he dropped aside.

You grabbed it knowing the gentleman wouldnt mind, and pulled it around your waist tightening it so it sat low on your body.

You spent the entire day till evening wearing it.

As night came it was time to turn in, body aching for contact you laid on your bed pondering wether to enjoy yourself.

A knock on the door startled you, a large tone frame excusing themselves stepped in.

"Hopefully i didnt disturb you." he shut the door leaving a small crack from it actually being closed.

"I dont mind, youre welcome anytime Raighley." You sat back on your bed arms behind your body as you relaxed.

There was a long pause, more like a silent stare down between you two, his half dressed body in nothing but shorts and loose shirt versus yours in a different set of garments still wearing the same robe and belt you took from the man infront of you.

"You have something for me?" he piqued generouslly looking down to your body.

"Do i?" playing dumb you gave him dove eyes crossing your legs seductivley.

He smirked stepping closer to you, he lowered himself eye level to you, his hands resting on the bed emprisoning you in his strong arms. You stayed still watching him with the same relaxed tone his slanted eyes slightly frustrated.

His arm streched towards your waist tugging on the belt your body dragged along space growing even less so.

You closed your eyes hand reaching for his cheek as you placed a sweet prolonged kiss on the corner of lips earning a gentle sigh from him.

He kissed back gently the grasp on your waist lessning as it moved to the small of your back, resting you on the bed with care.

You smiled rubbing small circles on his cheek your thumb under his glasses.

He took your hand placing a small kiss onto it, trailing it down your arm slowly.

He scraped off your robe placing tiny kisses on your shoulders tickling your skin.

"Raighley.." you giggled your neck shrugging from the sensation. He smiled bumping heads with you as he continued layering kisses down your body stopping at the waist here his belt was at.

His hands pulled at it, a tiny yelp coming from you as you felt your body tugged on once more. His strong calloused hand reached to unbuckle it before you could even realise.

He swiftly yanked, the leather making a loud pop as it hit itself. He grabbed your wrists straddling you, your face watching him intently before you realised what he had done, a shamefull blush sitting on your cheekbones.

He looped the buckle around one of your wrists, tightening it to the frame of the bed to secure your hand in place, his body hovering above yours you used your free hand to move to his pants, dipping your fingers slightly below the elastic.

"Ah ah~" he denied your longing touch with a warning , his eyes focused as he looked down on you. He had a mishevous grin on his face the entire time.

He scooted closer, his hips centimeters away from your face. What a pervert.

Blood rushed through your cheeks as you tried your best not to breathe too heavily, slow ragged breaths coming from your mouth you saw his member twitching inside his pants.

You held your breath altough you needed to breathe eventually. His loose shirt hovered in the air giving you the best possible view of his happy trail along his lower abs.

"Fuck.." you whsipered to yourself squeezing your legs to comfort the tension in your underwear.

"Liking the view?" he teased you, further making fun of how red you were just from eye fucking him, he tightened your free arm to the frame restricting all movements of your hands.

He bucked his hips slightly the base of his shaft rubbing against your nose.

He smelled so fresh you could tell he took care of himself well, and his cock was so warm it made you feel tingles.

"Lets make sure you understand something." he moved a bit back undoing the zipper of his pants. "If you do anything against what i say," he pressed on his lower abdomen outlining the shape of his cock, "I might have to get harsh with you." you swallowed mouth watering at the sight alone. Stretching the fabric of his underwear he pointed the tip of his cock to your lips, you squirmed under him unable to help you relieve any more of the growing arousal in your panties.

"Understood?" the lightly tapped his clothed dick against your lips fully commited for his words, the look in his eyes made you weak, he was enjoying himself so much.

Your mind was going hazy, the control he had over you drove you mad with want for him, and he knew it, you had to submit.

"Yes.." you whispered against his cock. He paused grabbing your face and squeezing your cheeks.

"Wanna try again?" He drew lazy strokes side to side with his cock against your partialy open mouth.

You had a look of shame to you, you enjoyed this too much. You looked at him through your lashes your eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room.

"Yessir..." The hold he had on your mouth made it harder to voice it out. His smirk grew once he heard you, he pressed a bit stronger against your lips antagonizing himself in the process, making you feel the bump from the transition to his tip to his thick shaft.

He slightly chuckled seeing the drool forming in your mouth.

You bucked your hips against thin air rocking him off balance, he caught himself quickly, his thumb stretching your upper lip to your gums revealing your teeth.

You decided to stick your mouth open a bit for him showing him your slutty side.

"Atta girl~" he praised you making your heart flutter at the words. He tapped his clothed cock against your tongue, wetting the fabric.

You could feel him twitch again, fuck what a tease this man was.

"You’re loving this aren’t you, having my cock in your mouth like this?"

You moan against his warmth, his dark eyes watching you like a hawk, he had an aura to him, a dominant, slightly sadistic and intrigued air which you couldn’t hold your own against.

He indulged himself a while longer, watching how your slutty, drool covered lips begged to touch more of him. The wet fabric around his cock stretched skin tight around him, you couldn’t help to stare at his happy trail.

He rose up his shirt exposing the dark blonde hairs on his lower abs, your eyes softened as you gently nipped the fabric of his boxers holding them between your teeth.

You let them go with a slight yank the boxers popping back onto his stiff cock. He quirked a brow with a slight chuckle, he let go of the hand he held your mouth open tracing his fingers on his lower abs, he partially took off his boxers lying them low on his ass, his cock sprung free bouncing before your face, you examined it, unable to hide your smile at the view.

He had a thick vein running down the side of it , it coiled around his cock beautifully. The tip of his cock was a darker tan than his skin nearly matching his lips.

Your breath stuttered your legs clashing against one another. He guided himself closer to you, lips brushing against it you swallowed thickly.

‘‘You think you can take it?’‘ Raighley had a cocky grin on his face as he brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. He saw you looking at him desperatley wanting his attention to which he payed no mind, he shot you a quick glance your heart burning with need.

You rolled your eyes slightly feeling his touch on your face. 

‘‘Play nice now alright?’‘ He looked at you with a fondness before his face turned a little darker and his voice raspier as he hovered above you. ‘‘Otherwise you’ll take it all.’‘ You knew what he meant. 

You nodded your head inching closer to take him in your mouth, he cursed out silently watching his cock disappear in your mouth, ‘’ Fuck’’ he growled watching you bob your head against his hips saliva coating his shaft pooling at the base of it as it slowly trickled down to your chest. 

You were gentle as he said slowly sucking him, you could feel very vein and bump on his cock with your tongue, you carefully lolled the muscle around the back of his cock making him twitch inside you. 

His breath stuttered a bit abs clenching he relished in the pleasure. 

He started rolling his hips slowly against your mouth, his tip often reaching the back of your throat. ‘’You’re doing great~’’ he panted the scrunch in his brows showing how much he enjoyed your mouth. 

With a sense of gratification , sharp pain hit the back of your throat as he pushed himself a little too deep inside you, tears stinging your eyes slightly. You closed your eyes edging him on with your tongue, you slipped away from him, licking his tip along the centre down to the curve where it ended. 

 A low grunt escaped his lips as he  threw his head back, the knot in his lower stomach tingling each time your tongue drove to over-simulate his tip. 

His breaths were ragged, his hand moving subconciously to fill your mouth with himself once more. He bucked his hips deeper agaisnt you, his lower stomach lightly brushing against your nose as you took most of him. 

A moan filled your mouth, pleasantly sending shivers down his shaft. 

He smirked leaning over you, hand on the bed frame, you could catch a breathtaking view of his body once more, his abs shimmered with sweat, his cheast rising unevenly. 

You smiled to yourself knowing  you made him feel this way. Inching closer to him, your nose pressed flush against the hair on his lower abs, taking all of him inside your mouth you slightly bobbed your head side to side trying to fit more and more of him inside. 

To say he was startled was an under statement, his love drunk smile rose higher the veins on his cock throbbing in pleasure as he stared at your stuffed mouth. 

You pulled away a thick strand of drool dripping between your lips and the sides of his cock you looked at the man, noticing his ragged form you knew how good of a job you did with him. ‘’That wasn’t fair now was it?’’ he took a handful of your hair, he had a certain danger to his eyes that you loved.

Your heart pounded against your chest, you gave him a weak smile. 

‘‘You’re such a slut “ he snarked, your chest tingling at the fact you disobeyed him.

You knew you’re in it now, he waisted little time brushing his cock against your lips he proceed to throat fuck you. The sight of his dick bulging in your throat as you gasped for air was the sluttiest thing you could ever give him a sight of. Tears drenching your eyes as you struggled for him, his rough panting before you, the way you slid your tongue out to stroke the swell of his bulge.

He groaned and panted, slurring his praises for you the more he fucked your mouth, your tongue sucking on the sweet spot between his shaft and groin. 

He lowered his head not able to keep his pace the more his stomach knotted. Your mouth tightened trying to swallow the saliva that built up instead you recieved a loud husky groan his cock dragging lazily inside your mouth,he bottomed out, cum spurting down your throat. 

Surprised you swallowed the thick liquids, looking up at him, your eyes meeting with his, his expression was priceless, fucked out of his mind, saliva lightly coating the corner of his lips as he wiped it away. The cut on his eyes glistening with sweat that coated his brow. 

‘‘Fuck..“ he pulled out of you, wiping off the drool and tears on your face. 

He untied the belts holding you, the friction had made your wrists red. You rubbed them relishing the feeling. 

Raighley’s face lowered next to yours, a gravely whisper in your ear spoke “You took me so well~’’. He kissed your ear, his beard gently scratching against your side you leaned into his touch.

‘‘Let me repay you..” he cupped your face, his slanted brown eyes turned soft as he kissed the mouth he had just came in. You burrowed your hands in his hair. He pulled you up to sit eye level with him. His strong hands trailing your body slowly. You kept grinding against him, unable to have enough.

His teeth lightly nipped your lower lip, tugging on it, you arched your chest against his your lip coming back with a light pop. You mewled ‘’I need you.. “  hugging his head which rested in the crook of your neck, biting your skin.

He hummed, lightly smiling against you , his thumb trailing under your jaw, he kissed between where your collarbones met. 

Wanting to appriciate you for how good you were to him. He lazily squeezed your body grinding it against his own, leaving a haze of kisses everywhere his lips traveled.

"Please.. sir" you whimpered your nipples rubbing against his shirt.

He growled against your skin biting harder than before making you yelp. You shouldnt be doing this to him even though he asked to be called this, each time you did it felt like you were trying to provoke a mad animal.

He backed away from you and took off his shirt, leaving you to admire his tanned skin you drooled over before at the beach.

"You were eye-fucking me before." his fingers laced around your chest dropping your body a bit lower he sucked on your nipple switching between the two every so often.

You bit your lip, the feeling of being found out even if he had his back towards you made your face redder than before.

"Dont be shy now, you certainly werent before." He sucked harder your hips automatically buckling against his, he was still hard, your skin felt feverish where his cock touched you, he just came so how is he harder than before.

"You looked hot.. I couldn't help it." you admited staring into the wall, his eyes traled up to watch yours, his mouth still sucking on your perky buds.

"Liar." He gently bit your nipple, your hand clasping the back of his head you pulled his hair.

You moaned struggling to decide wether to pull him away or pull him closer. "You know how i know?" he continued breathless kisses trailing your torso, his beard tickling your neck. "I've heard you. The way you moan my name." the foxy man kept messing with your head.

"Begging for me." He continued, your body growing more excited each time he opened his mouth to share his secrets.

"Each night." He kissed your neck running yet another shiver on your heaving body. His eyes tracing your face made you want to bury yourself six feet deep.

You hid yourself in the crook of his neck body flaring red. His hands gently stroked your back brushing your hair away.

"How about you make it all true?" you whispered to yourself silently enough that if he payed attention he'd heart it.

Raighley smirked looking at you through thin lashes, you grew a bit nervous from that, everytime he looked at you it startled you.

He laid down on the bed his hands reaching for yours, "Come." He ushered you as you kneed your way over, straddling him. "Closer.." he kept pulling you forward.

"Sit on my face." his arms held onto yours as you took in what you just heard.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, come." He wasnt wasting his breath with this one he didnt want to keep you waiting.

You spread your legs lowering yourself over him, still not fully seated onto him.

He pulled you in fully, large hands cupping your ass, his mouth making contact with your slick entrance you moaned blisfully feeling the warmth of his tongue lapping up your juices.

You grinded against him slowly hearing the squelching noises come from down below, he licked you all over making sure he tasted all of you. He kissed your lips, the beautiful pink insides of your entrance, he couldnt wait to tease you with his tongue.

He ate you out with such passion it made your knees feel weak after just a short while, his tongue flickered against your clit rubbing it and twirling around it as he kissed all over it.

You moaned his name grinding further into his handsome face, his own hips bucking against the air every now and then.

"Fuck you feel so good.." you kept praising him unsure when you ended your little roleplay.

He smacked your ass in affirmation, tongue prodding inside your walls as you mewled for more. He circled his tongue in and out slurping on your juices each time you rode his face.

He held you still for a moment burrowing his face agaisnt your pussy, his stripy beard shining with your arousal.

You whispered profanities the more he went down on you telling him just how good he made you feel.

"Fuck right there, righht there Raighley.." you whimpered grinding your hips against his face, his tongue flicking against your clit feverishly.

Your hips kept twitching, thighs shaking as you felt the constant stimulation accompanied by his smacks ,your ass red with prints of his hands.

He fondled your ass lightly pushing you forward so he could drink all of you. You felt like exploding, you grabbed onto the bedframe Raighleys hands cupping you close to him as you panted with heavy breaths mewling his name each time.

"I-can't..-" you stuttered your breath trying to hold out the pleasure you were recieving, his calloused hands gently trailing the undersides of your thighs gripping on them every so often.

He hummed against your heat, mouth glued onto you core as he suckled the sensetive bud unable to get enough of your taste.

Your hips trembled nonstop until he pushed his head closer to you, his nose tighly pressed against pussy his tongue licked you, slurping your juices till you came, he took his time cleaning you up kissing and suckling each bit of your lower body before you pulled away from him unable to handle more.

The both of you panted catching your breaths you straddled the blonde once more taking the luxury to taste yourself on his lips.

"Mm, now were even." you spoke breathlessy against his lips as you lowered down to his hips, ass meeting with a wet sploch.

He smirked eyes half lidded, enjoying his own after glow. His chest painted in white strands of cum. You couldnt belive that he came from eating you out.

You licked your lips kissing and licking up each spot on his chest where he had came, his body tensing under your touch, a shameful blush sitting on his cheeks.

"Fuck me.." He mumbled covering his face.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Twenty

Yiorgos, our taxi driver, chugs up the driveway with his boot stuffed full of cases and bags. It is hot already, even though he told us that the winter drew on longer than normal this year, but now the summer seems to have come early, completely swallowing up the spring. The Cypriot heat is bone dry today, and when we step out of the car and take our cases with us, a haze of dust from the path rises into the air and leaves a thin film on my sandals. The sun is sharp edged on the stone of this old building, and a scallop shaped bird bath in the garden has dried up. I run my fingers through the ridges of warm stone as Yiorgos hauls all of Claire’s bags out onto the ground, and gaze out towards the horizon from this vantage point, high enough to see the pale slash of Coral Beach to the west and the blue ridges of the Cedar Valley in the distant east, yellow sun glancing off their inclines. The wind does not blow. It is perfectly, silently still. 

“It’s hot.” I declare, fanning myself with the paperback book I packed for the plane, and Jude pushes his sunglasses onto his face. “Is it?” He says vaguely. He is wearing long trousers and a sweatshirt, and Shane has the decency to look irritated on my behalf. “Some of us would find this hot, man, yeah,” He says. “We weren’t all dragged up in the Chihuahuan Desert, or whatever it’s called,” He wipes sweat from his brow and begins hauling some of the bags up the steps to the worn wooden doors at the entrance of the house. There is an arc of sweat on his back, and hair at the nape of his neck is damp with it. He was never all that great in the sun. 

When Claire throws open the doors she does so with great flourish, and then flits through the house and does the same to all of them. I spot her up on the balcony above the pomegranate trees as I carry my things inside, like a Disney princess with her long, thick hair swishing around her shoulders, the look of complete and utter bliss fixed upon her pretty face. She was so excited about this holiday, and now being here, seeing how beautiful it is after all of the meticulous planning, I feel like I can relax. 

The house, with its smooth plastered walls is cool inside, as though the thick stone has held onto the damp of winter, but still, I go to the sink in the kitchen to get a palm full of water for my hot forehead. The shutters there are thrown open to a sea view, and far to the north east of the bay where the white sand meets the cliffs, a huge, top heavy rock juts out of the sea. I am squinting at it when Jude comes up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist. 

“It’s Aphrodite’s Rock,” I tell him. “I read about it in that guide at the tourist office. The myths say that she was born right there at that very spot.”

“She’s the Greek’s answer to Venus, right? Goddess of Love and beauty.”

“And marriage and prostitution and all of that fun stuff.”

“I bet she was a wild gal back in the BC days.”

“You know that the guide also said that that portion of the beach was voted the top place in the Mediterranean to have sex,” I don’t know why I just said that, and stiffen awkwardly in his arms, quickly adding, “It’s also a nudist beach,” as though that will save me somehow, but actually it only makes it worse.

“Oh,” He teases with a ticklish kiss on my cheekbone. “If you feel like heading down there at any point I wouldn’t be totally opposed.”

“Yeah, you me and a bunch of creepy old men, I bet, and anyway,” I twist around to face him “I’m already competing for time with your bloody thesis, I don’t really fancy wasting a precious day hiking all the way down there just to get my pasty baps out for a crowd of strangers.”

He throws his head back and groans, arms falling limp at his sides. “Please, we just arrived, don’t mention the ‘T’ word.”

“Get it done early,” I warn him with a stiff finger in the chest. “I’m not spending this whole holiday third wheeling it with Claire and Shane because you can’t stop procrastinating.”

“I’m like, 95% there. I swear, it’ll be like, one evening, max,” he whirls around and starts plucking bags from the heap on the terracotta tiles with a sudden burst of efficiency. “I’ll do it tonight, it’ll be over. For now we have to unpack and pick a room, and then I think we should take a walk and see if we can find somewhere to swim so we can get that sticky aeroplane feeling off us.”

“A room?” I echo, fixated on that part, “You think we should share?”

“Well, I don’t know,” He says, standing still with his arms full of cases. “Would you absolutely hate that?”

“I wouldn’t hate it, I just, you know…”

He nods, “We can sleep separately, I don’t mind.” 

“I’m sorry,” I add quickly, “It’s nothing personal, I just don’t want to feel kind of, situation-ed into something we’re not ready for.”

“Is that a word? Situ-”

“No.”

“Well, okay.”

“You’re not offended?”

“No!” He says, and rightly enough, he doesn’t sound it, but maybe he’s just a good actor. “It’s not like that with us, we’re going slow.”

I chew on my lip, “Well I feel like you’re just saying that.”

“Evie,” He sighs. “It’s different with us, I know that you’re anxious, and it doesn’t bother me. Actually, it’s nice, I’ve never done the waiting thing before, and I’m enjoying it, because I’ve been appreciating everything else that we’ve been doing.”

“Back when I was at school the waiting period was about eight months,” I tell him, and it’s just an innocent anecdote but I swear his face drains a bit. “Girls would go out with their first boyfriend for ages first, and if they made it as far as eight months then they’d get the ride. Usually like, in a car or at someone’s house party.”

“Sounds romantic.”

“Yeah, right. That was just a stupid story, by the way,” I say hastily. “It’s not like that’s the pattern I want us to follow or anything, it just popped into my head there, and like, eight months is ages to wait, and it’s not like we even know where you’re going to be in eight months, sure you’ll be long graduated by then and you could be off anywhere in the world…” I trail off because his smile has faltered and he’s starting to look miserable. “I’ll come with you now to look at the rooms,” I seize a few more of the bags and follow him up the stairs to a creaky landing with shuttered windows that still block out the light. 

I insist that Jude take the double room out of pure guilt, even though he seems perfectly fine again, but mostly I choose the small box room because it has that very same beautiful view as the kitchen beneath it. Instead of unpacking anything I sit upon a painted wooden chair by the window and gaze out at the stillness of Pissouri, the azure blue of the sky and the brittle sand coloured stone of the cracked roads that wind up and down the hills. Once again I look for Aphrodite’s Rock and find it, as though a flickering torch of twisting flames was transformed into stone in an instant. The sand at its base unfolds into a meadow of Neptune seagrass, and I imagine I can see the goddess there, standing boldly in her nakedness amongst the cliffs. Somehow she sees me too, and she smiles up at me, her gaze unwavering, insistent and sure. I stare back until she dissolves to nothing in the blink of an eye. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

9, 20, 28, 42 for the 49 ask game

Thanks! :D

DEATH - What WIP would you want to be remembered for?:

Good question! I think I'll go with Totentanz. Because time-travellers fighting monsters is a pretty cool thing to be remembered for :D

FIRE - What is the worst thing you've ever created?:

*glares at my first completed WIP* I wouldn't mind so much if it was complete rubbish, but unfortunately past me had a few good ideas. The problem is, they're ruined by bad execution, wooden characters, and some bits that make me want to tear my hair and scream "WHAT WAS I THINKING?".

ILLUSION - What is the best line of description in your WIP?:

An excerpt from each WIP, coming up!

Like Snow on Hungry Graves:

"None of the drawings did justice to how beautiful its tail was. Its scales were dark blue and its fins -- lighter blue and streaked with white and purple -- flared out like a cape."

The Power and the Glory:

"Siarvin set Ilaran down on the bed as gently as if he was made of glass. He disappeared into the small bathroom adjoining the room, leaving Abi alone with the body. In life Ilaran had been one of the tallest men Abi knew. In death he seemed small and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him look before. His eyes were still partly open, slashes of green in the middle of his chalk-white face."

Gracemeadow Manor:

"The man playing the piano was abnormally tall, with long arms and legs that reminded her of a spider's. He was dressed from head to toe in black with a top hat pulled down over his face. His hands were bone white. In fact she wasn't entirely sure they weren't just bone. What little she could see of his face was also pale. He was either grinning or baring his teeth. Did he have lips at all? Did he have skin at all?"

Totentanz:

"The hole in the veil opened right in front of her. For one nightmarish minute she looked through it into the Óhreinnjǫrð. Colours swirled behind the veil, colours that human eyes should not be able to see. In seconds the landscape changed from mountains to valleys to cities that defied all logic. She saw palaces built on top of enormous spindly towers. A thousand shapes rolled back and forth in the gorge-like streets."

The Unfortunate Moth:

"The middle-aged woman was the main actor in the unfolding drama. A casual passer-by would have assumed she was a British noblewoman — a countess at the very least, to judge by her behaviour. Yo-han had always had a gift for languages and had trained himself to have a decent grasp of accents in foreign languages. He also had studied enough people of all races and from all walks of life to pick up on subtleties of body language and expression. He knew at once that this was no noblewoman. She was as common as common could be, and she knew it. She was afraid everyone else knew it too. That was why she wore five pearl necklaces. That was why her clothes were the very latest fashion, even though they didn't suit her at all. That was why she acted like she owned the ship. That was why she put on an upper-class accent. Yo-han had never seen this woman before, but he had seen a thousand copies of her."

Silver Glass:

"A large and gaudy car was parked outside the front door. Phil eyed it disapprovingly. The owner had better be colour-blind, because there was no other excuse for painting a car in a shade of red normally reserved for overripe tomatoes. And was that velvet upholstery?"

SOUL - What is your favourite WIP?:

Currently it's a tie between The Case-files (murder mysteries are so much fun to write!) and Death Waits for Some Men (black comedies are also so much fun!)

[cajolions]

hiiiii 7 13 14 :) <3

Hii!!! Wrote too much as usual lol it's bc they're good questions

7. Favourite works of all time excluding your own?

Ohhh ok so, I interpreted this as Paintings I Think About All The Time, so this excludes any video and sculpture and stuff and is almost only stuff I’ve seen in person.

From more recent years, I’ve really liked “The Lookout (All’s Well)” by Winslow Homer’s and “Automedon with the Horses of Achilles” by Henri Regnault. Online photos do neither of these justice. The lookout is so so cool when it comes to depicting the dimness of night, and the position of the three stars in the sky along with the little speck of moonlight on the bell really fascinated me— they’re in such weird spots in the painting! Also maritime theme so +one million points. 

For Automedon, it’s the humongous size of the painting and the tragedy of the character that got me. Poor Automedon is so clearly doomed but he is too young, too loyal, seems too innocent to realize it. The fact that the painting is set in this kind of barren rocky seaside landscape that we associate with the land of the dead makes this effect even stronger for me. It’s those Greek Epics Feels yk?

Otherwise, in paintings I used to have a much stronger obsession with but which still really get me there’s The Floor Scrapers by Caillebotte, Carnation Lilly Lilly Rose by John Singer Sargent, David Hockney’s A Bigger Splash, and Hopper’s Rooms By the Sea. 

The Floor Scrapers and A Bigger Splash I get excited about on a technical level. The casual, photographic posing and the natural light in The Floor Scrapers is so beautiful and fills me with a real human empathy for the men in the image, reminds me of their lives. It’s all the stuff I really like about the impressionists, when they’re depicting People and Sight Itself. 

A Bigger Slash is still sooooo cool to me I have no idea why. Idk, as I see it Hockney’s one of those creators whose sardonic eye remains sentimental and earnestly invested in beauty. This painting has a lot of that imo. Like yes, fuck a California swimming pool, but it’s also genuinely beautiful, and come here let’s hold those two ideas in the mind at once. The fact that it’s made with commercial wall paint (iirc) is also huge in that regard. 

Now, the Sargent painting and the Hockney painting have been the support for two different Ongoing Personal Crises that I’ve now mostly moved on from but I ruminated on them a lot. The Hockney painting to me is about bravery in the face of the unknown, and transitioning from control to the complete lack of it. Will you leave the comfortable familiarity of the hotel room and jump, with no support and no transition, into the ocean where you will have no way to come back up? I now think the dichotomy of how I framed that question is flawed, but there was a time where I put a lot of pressure on myself to cut loose, and was very ashamed of my attachments and the accusation that I leveraged against myself reflected itself in Rooms By the Sea. 

The Sargent painting hit me like a ton of bricks when I saw it because I projected onto it that effortless experience of Mystery that fades as you grow up. A little corner of garden like that, paper lanterns, and a cousin you see once in a while all have this mysterious quality when you’re 7 years old which over the years becomes plastered over with the Understanding we need to make decisions and be an actor in the world. I can still get myself in a state where I can marvel at the world, and feel a sense of unknowing at the places I find myself in, but it’s a state I have to get myself into, and I think there’s no such thing as truly forgetting what you know when you look at the world. 

13. Show your favourite drawing from last year

Not really one drawing but it’s def the Corto comic. Comics are just… I fucking love making comics dude. Meditating on the characters, making them act, writing the dialogue, moving the camera around, it really has all the elements of other art making that I love and I think this one comic came to me quite effortlessly and gave me the motivation to make the more recent one about my uncle. 

In terms of execution I’m also rlly happy with this Lyle sketch that I’m never gonna finish. He just looks good in it lol.

14. How has your art changed over the years?

Oooohf uh. This is really hard to talk about well. I think in my own experience while drawing the most important difference is that I used to go “ok, I’m going to draw a face, here’s how I’ve learned to do a face, here’s how I’ll tweak it to look how I want” and now I’m more likely to think “ok, what technique do I want to focus on for this drawing? what direction do I want to stretch myself in?” 

I guess it’s a slow evolution of artistic maturity, where instead of directly copying and applying tricks to depict content, I’m more able to look at the material I have and go “what can I do with this?” Concretely, I’ve become a lot less focused on anatomy, perspective, and facial features and a lot more focus on color, composition and big blocky shapes. That being said, I think the blocky style I’ve been doing more of has actually improved both my line art (which I now do with a bolder pen, or a heavily textured pen on really small canvases) and my rendering abilities. 

My bad habits or “crutches” have also changed, especially when it comes to depicting and rendering bodies. I used to use layer effects for shading a bunch, and never really do that anymore, but now I’m always placing light in the same damn places when I render a face lol. 

In terms of pure aesthetic I would say there have been a number of overlapping Styles or Tendencies something like:

Everything has a flats or thick line art and random ill-considered pink overlays (lol and lol)

Surprisingly parsimonious rendering, usually with flat brushes, but it’s exclusively heads looking left 

A brief run-in with better soft brush line art and more tasteful flats with less rendering (ding and dong)

Too much ill-considered rendering with overly ambitious lighting contexts (rip and F)

Oh shit crunchy brushes (cronch and crunch)

Polyline tool flats (introducing, backgrounds if you squint) evolving slowly throughout (here, here and here for eg) 

Heavy black linear + lasso tool flats / rendering? (bing and bong) 

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

100% correct, @winntir !

This should be well known Star Trek fandom history, but like just about any fandom in the past, whatever women or queer people valued within the fandom was treated as lesser than, less cool, embarrassing.

And they still do this.

Think about how disco music as a genre was treated (predominantly made by women, POC and LGBT), how Beatles fans were treated, how girls who are fans of boybands like NSYNC or now BTS get made fun of even now by grown men for having a hobby or interest.

Look at all the hate that romance/rom com gets as a genre for being "predictable and trite" when the highly favoured "action" genre is every bit as trite and predictable but far more popular and widely accepted by men, so somehow it's "better" than romance even though you know what's going to happen before you walk in. Ain't no way Vin Diesel ain't saving the day, surviving to the end, and getting the girl in The Fast and Furious 492. But that's "cool", and romance is "predictable". Sure.

I think the fact that the vast majority of the insulted/made fun of fanbases throughout history are consistently women and queer people shouldn't be ignored. We should be taking long, hard looks at that.

In fact, the bulk of TOS viewers in the 60s WERE WOMEN and back then they treated Trekkies as if being a Trek fan was in the same vein of judgement to some that folks treat furries like now. And I really don't doubt that this had a lot to do with the huge female and queer fanbase in Trek and the content they made.

Trek got huge in syndication in the 70s after the fan organized conventions that started just to sell unofficial, fanmade K/S zines. But nobody talks about where fan conventions started or why, because that history is "embarrassing" because it entails women and queer people making erotica -- by the way, porn fully existed for straight men at that time and nobody was out here judging men for their dirty magazines, they were making pop culture movies like Porky and songs about centerfold beauties because objectifying women was "cool and accepted" -- but nobody was making porn for women or queer people, and when they DID make their own, they got vehemently judged and ostracized for it. Some women got divorced when their husbands found their K/S stories. But men could look at girlie mags and porn all they wanted and that was "cool", but if queer people or women did it they were "perverts/weird".

Seeing a pattern here?

Post TMP you saw basically only dudes at the conventions BC a lot of women and queer people had been shooed or chased out of the fandom for their "embarrassing, disgusting, gay" erotica fanzines.

Conventions literally started predominantly due to K/S fans organizing themselves to sell and trade their zines, and then once those fans had successfully campaigned and organized to make their cons official, they got kicked out of the official cons they literally CREATED to begin with for being "pervy and weird" for making K/S fanzines . . . All while they were selling things like ladies of Star Trek calendars out front and calling us inappropriate.

This fact has always made me angry, because without those women and queer fans circulating those zines, conventions never would have even happened. There likely wouldn't have been a Trek revival or TMP. But women were always repressed, and queer people were always repressed but ESPECIALLY SO in the late 70s and 80s during the AIDS crisis.

Throughout history, women and queer people's contributions to fandom and popular culture should be well known, but it isnt.

It was constantly swept under the rug because it was considered "lesser than" or embarrassing, like just about anything else women or queer people popularly enjoy.

I remember some folks used to hate to see us coming in cons and thought we were the reason Star Trek was considered "not cool" or "embarrassing" as slash shippers, our zines being hidden in back rooms BC Paramount producers were vehemently anti LGBT and so many fans followed suit with that attitude back then. They didn't even realize the people they subjugated and judged were the ones they had to thank for conventions and the Trek revival.

I don't want people to forget this, even if it isn't the happiest or squeakiest mark on our fandom history.

Look at attitudes towards the new Dr. Who, The Last of Us, etc. People still hate on romance when it's no more or less trite than action. Even still today, women and queer people have to deal with being treated as less valuable or "embarrassments" when it comes to fandom, especially young girls getting bullied by old men over things like boybands.

I don't want us to forget that this has been a thing for a very long time, and if you are a young woman or queer person who loves something, don't let them chase you away. Don't let them shut you out or shut you up. If they try to take away your right to be creative and express yourself, find other means to do it.

But don't be silent.

And don't let yourself get treated like your contributions or interests are less than and get discouraged.

If our fandom of women and queer folks had stayed silent back in the 70s when EVERYONE was harshly judging them, we might never have gotten the return of Star Trek after TOS.

No TNG, no DS9, VOY, ENT, DISCO, PIC, TLD, PRO -- none of it would have happened if those K/S fans didn't organize themselves to the level that they did: in garages in homes, then hotel rooms, then hotel convention rooms, just to trade their K/S fics and zines. Because those are the fans that birthed the concept of a Star Trek convention, ANY fan convention started with those Trek fans, and Star Trek conventions are the reason that Star Trek returned in TMP.

K/S shippers, predominantly women and queer folks, saved Star Trek. So the next time you enjoy an episode of DS9, TNG, or any content after TOS, remember there's some K/S shipping Trek mom or closeted queer person to thank for it even getting to exist.

Today on popping the corn and feeding the children, what do you folks think of this discussion? :)

I'm always curious to hear what other Trek fans, especially queer Trek fans, think about our place in Trek history and how we fare as the queer participants within our fandom. What have your experiences been like?

Overwhelmingly I've found a great reception and a welcoming attitude, but I admit that has increased considerably since the 90s. However, there are still some Trek fans who seem to be vehemently in denial about queer history in Star Trek, or the fact that anyone who has worked on Trek has pro-LGBT attitudes. This always surprises me considering some of the blatant queer content we have already seen in Star Trek such as the Jadzia Dax and Lenara Kahn kiss.

Anyway, I enjoyed the discussion that followed and seeing the overwhelming outpouring of support coming from Star Trek fans in response to this thread.

Here was my two cents contribution:

"No, what they said was factual.

Have you forgotten Nichelle Nichols was indeed an African American woman in the core seven bridge crew back in 1966?

Or the fact that Gene Roddenberry went out of his way to write The Motion Picture Novel, creating the term "T'hy'la: friend, brother, lover" so that fans could choose which interpretations of Kirk and Spock they saw fit? He also embraced K/S fans and hired a number of them to write the earliest Star Trek novels, including the very first official one (The New Voyages Vol. 1 & 2) which included slash fiction as well as Gene's approval/forward in the books.

In case anyone has forgotten, here's a little bit of background on Gene Roddenberry and his perspectives on queerness in Star Trek.

He admitted that in his early life he was very affected by how society and culture treated the LGBT community, and that he too found himself subjugating and judging others for that lifestyle because it was what people did at that time. As he got older and had more life experience, he began working with a number of queer artists in Hollywood -- and through TOS, a number of queer individuals began asking questions about Kirk and Spock.

Instead of vehemently shutting down this perspective, Roddenberry was intrigued, and saw potential to tap into a large audience (LGBT) that most others didn't want to go near or acknowledge publicity-wise. He saw it as an opportunity to expand the fanbase while also pushing yet another envelope.

But with the heat already on the show for what they'd already pushed, he found he was often stuck between what he'd like to do and what production would let him get away with. There are a number of Kirk and Spock scenes in scripts that got cut out for leaning a little too obviously romantic. Tiny trickles of that content still made it in were infamous moments like the backrub scene in Shore Leave. Even the 2009 movie had a K/S moment while Spock Prime and Kelvin Spock talked that was written and filmed that was cut out of the final product.

Queer subtext and coding has always been relentlessly weeded away at with an excuse ready to go for why they always try to cut us out, but we all know it's because they are scared of the homophobic backlash and ratings hits. Look how violently homophobes went after the gay romance episode of The Last of Us **just this year**. This has always been our reality, so for someone like Roddenberry to make efforts in the 70s? That was massive.

But Gene as well as the queer/slash Trek community managed to accomplish some things in the 70s which I'm surprised more folks don't talk about or give much credit.

In the same TMP novel which features "T'hy'la" and the famous footnote, Gene cleverly wrote Kirk with a bisexual/pansexual lens: Kirk describes himself as *preferring* women but being open to "physical love in **any** of its many Earthly, alien, and mixed forms." (Direct quote from Genes book). Basically, Captain Kirk was DTF with whoever if there was a connection, which was a very progressive take for a character in a novel written in 1979, but made sense for the future which would have a lot less hang ups about sex and love compared to our current rather puritan/conservative society.

I also prefer women, but I married a man. Shout out to Gene Roddenberry for giving us a seat at the table back in the 70's when folks *still* try to insist there is no place for K/S or queer concepts in Trek, because he made efforts -- however small -- to employ queer people and show queer perspectives. According to David Gerrold, LGBT+ representation was a big thing that Gene personally pushed for in TNG and wanted various depictions of love/couples in the Risa scenes, to name one example.

In the 70s, fanzines led to meetings and swapped fanmade magazines, which got so big that they needed hotel centers, then convention centers, then one day the TOS cast came to one and what we know as modern fan conventions were born -- inspiring even George Lucas who attended Trek conventions in the 70s and saw how popular Trek was in syndication; it was a great climate to launch his Space Opera. Star Wars then became so huge that we got TMP.

But none of that would have happened without the level of organization, passion, and creativity that those fans poured into Star Trek and their characters after it got cancelled and went into syndication.

Without queer folks we wouldn't have George Takei, Theodore Sturgeon who gave us Tribbles, Bill Theiss and his amazing TOS costumes, Mike Minor's art direction, Merritt Butrick, David Gerrold (writer for TOS, TAS, TNG) to name a few of many queer contributors to Trek that Roddenberry respected and tried to go to bat for wherever he could in a climate that was absolutely impossible to gain an inch in.

At a time during the 70s and 80s when so many people resented and feared the queer community and wanted us to disappear, especially in the 80s during the AIDS epidemic which many homophobes claimed was "God's punishment to the gay community" or "Gods's answer" to our "hedonism", thinking we'd gotten our just desserts and should just disappear . . .

During that time, Gene Roddenberry gave us queer folks a place to say: "You know what? Sure. Write your stories. TV says you guys shouldn't exist, they pull books with queer people off the shelves and burn them. Laws exist specifically to forbid you guys from loving each other, and call you mentally ill. You can't even hold hands in public. But I'm going to validate you guys and invite you to write novels or work for me, try to see what we can get by production, and allow you to see yourselves in my characters if you want to. There's a place for you in our fandom."

He gave us bi/pan Kirk, he gave us K/S is open to interpretation. In Phase 2 Kirk's surviving nephew Peter, son of his brother Sam from Operation: Annihilate!, was going to be written as gay and living on the Enterprise with his partner -- that also got chopped and reworked into a script that wouldn't get used until decades later. That was huge at a time that being queer was officially listed as a mental illness, and villainized due to the AIDS crisis.

So before you try to dismiss or tell K/S + queer Trek fans whether or not they deserve a seat at the table, remember that Gene Roddenberry was among the **first** to pull that seat out for us in a climate that was ruthlessly against LGBT+ folks." -- 1Shirt2ShirtRedShirtDeadShirt

P.S: Have some cute bisexual/pansexual K/S pride gifs. :) Pride month is a hop, skip and a jump away.

LLAP!🖖💚

[hotwings0203]

Wat if katsuki actually had a s/o that loved Key word LOVED him but.....

Then when he started getting to aggressive and starts hitting her she suddenly stops all the love and affection. And that makes katsuki so confused and angry bc he like 'wtf why did they stop huggin and kissin me when I get home from my matches'. Then his darling becomes very depressed is and cooped up in her room all the time. So when katsuki friends come over they wonder where y/n is.

Tw:abuse, implied dubcon, depression

“Babe, you’re home!” You rush over to the door when you head it unlocking, arms outstretched already or embrace his wounds.

But when the door swings open you’re met with a scowling Bakugo who shoves you aside so hard you fall to the floor.

He grumbles and throws his bags down, kicking mud off his shoes onto the carpet as he glares at you.

“This place is a pigsty. Why the fuck didn’t you clean?”

You laugh nervously and raise an eyebrow. “Uhh, ‘cause I was out all day too? I just got home an hour ago and I was tired. What’s with you? Why’re you in such a bad mood?”

Katsuki’s eyes widen until they’re the size of dinner plates. His nostrils flare and his fists resume the same position as they do in the ring.

“You talkin’ back to me now?”

“What? No, you literally just asked-“

Crack.

The sound of him backhanding your cheek reverberates around the apartment, and you hold your face in shock.

It’s not so much the pain of him striking you that hurts, it’s the fact that this has been happening for a while now that aches the most. Nothing you do-no smiles, no amount of love you showed him in, no sobs or pleads-sways him.

You love him, it’s true.

But it’s hard to love him when he looks at you like that.

“Get the fuck up. And clean all this shit up, the next time I come home to this filth I’ll make the clean the floors with your tongue.”

He grabs you by your hair and throws you face-first onto the tile area, taking his own sweet time to turn around and walk to your shared room.

After you clean for hours until the place is spotless, you retreat to bed.

He’s on his phone typing away with a slight crease in his eyebrows, but he looks up at you as you walk in.

“Hey. You done?” He has the audacity to ask in a gentle voice.

“Mmhm.”

You don’t look at him as you begin changing your clothes in the restroom and close the door behind you.

His frown deepens at that. You’ve never shied away from being vulnerable and naked with him.

To test his doubt, when you walk back into the room with your head still down, he leans forward as you sit down on the mattress, your back turned to him.

You shut off the lights in silence as he reaches a hand out and curls it around your shoulders.

“C’mere, ‘wanna feel you.” He mumbles in his raspy sleepy voice.

But to his utter confusion, you gently brush his hand off and continue your journey to tuck yourself in bed.

With your back still facing him.

“I’m tired Katsuki. Not in the mood.”

His hand is still suspended in midair, his facial features still frozen in his initial shock as he’s left in a pitch black room which is suddenly overcome with a freezing cold creeping up his spine.

He’s too wounded, too shocked and shot from his ego to be irate.

You’ve never said no to cuddling at night. Never. So what was wrong now?

You were taking his anger so well for a while, what the hell was the matter with you?

But he doesn’t touch you again that night. He barely sleeps a wink to your usually comforting sound of soft snores and little mumbles in your sleep talk.

In the morning his lack of sleep gets the betterment of his temper, and he lashes out of you again in the shower.

You’re washing your hair when you feel a cool breeze against your bare body. You open your eyes and see Katsuki standing in front of you outside the glass door to your shower.

You feign an eye roll and merely grab the handle trying to close it shut.

He doesnt even let it budge. He just snarls down at your intruding hand and yanks the door back even further, pulling you along with the force.

You yelp and slip on the floor, falling unceremoniously at his feet.

The look on his face is frankly terrifying, much worse than yesterday’s. Bakugo slowly steps in along with your quickly reversing body and closes the door behind him, trapping you inside with him.

“Why’d you try to close it on me.”

It’s not a question, it’s a demand.

“I’m sorry.”

“Then get up and touch me.”

He’s towering over your cornered form, his fists dangerously swinging next to your head.

Your limbs don’t move though. Your heart thuds slowly, your love ebbing away from him with its slow rhythm.

You already know how this is going to turn out, but you try anyways.

“Please Bakugo, I’m really not in the mood right now.”

“Oh, so it’s Bakugo now, huh?”

Your body disassociates so you don’t feel it as much, but unfortunately your hands still flinch above your head in instinct.

“If you’re-thud-sorry, then you’ll fucking-crack-touch me you-smack-ungrateful bitch.”

Your cries are loud, but not loud enough to drown his roaring out, not enough to mute the sound of his hands cracking above your shaking body.

He leaves the shower unfulfilled in his heart and in his dick.

His mind is in shambles.

This is the longest you’ve wanted space from him, he could understand an hour but half a day?

He has a rude awakening when “half a day” becomes a couple more days, then a week, and then it’s half a month since you’ve willingly kissed his battle scars and loved him with your whole being.

He says willingly because otherwise you eat his hits up like you’re just another fighter in the ring when he gets angry at your apathy. The only restraining factor that differentiates you and the men he puts in coffins is his desperation for you to come back.

To no avail though. If you’re not keeling over on the ground or pinned underneath him and molding your anatomy to the shape of his fists, then you’re still as a corpse on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wishing you were anywhere else but here.

Bakugo doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know what to feel.

Rage is consumed by paranoia, paranoia is swallowed whole by depression, depression is swept away by panicked desperation.

His hair starts falling out, his punches grow weaker and he comes home with more and more bruises every day to match the ones littering across your body.

One might wonder whose the real fighter-him or you.

And so one day when he can’t stand it anymore, can’t stand the silence and tension that’s so palpable you could taste the iron in the air, he invited his friends over.

He need the distractions. He needs happiness, a word that doesn’t seem worthy of his pathetic being.

He’s more pathetic than your unmoving body.

“Heyyy man!” Sero and Denki exclaim in obnoxious unison and throw their arms around Bakugo’s shoulders. All three of them barrel through his half-opened doorway and practically topple him over.

The air of excitement is so foreign to him, but oh so welcoming.

“Hey,” he grunts back awkwardly.

“You’ve never really invited us over without Y/N dragging you by the ear for it. How is she by the way? Haven’t heard of her in a while.” Kirishima nudges his shoulder.

But before he can open his mouth Denki cuts in. “You knock her up yet? You sly bastard, no wonder you’re hiding her from us. The gigs over Y/N, show us that beautiful belly!” He cups his hands around his mouth and the quip slashes through the air and infests Katsuki’s heart. It’s a mockery, a cruel reminder of what he cannot have.

When their friend doesn’t answer and merely walks off, the boys behind him awkwardly look at each other.

Usually he’d explode at them or at least chase them around the room.

And usually you would come out to greet them.

Katsuki was wrong.

You weren’t different from him anymore.

Because when he accepts that not even his friends can release his stone cold heart from its catatonic confines, he’s never felt more in sync with you than he has now.

[nightswithkookmin]

Jimin is a pretty bOY

This is a continuation of our discussion on my last post. Thanks for sharing your thoughts with me, I think I agree with all of it.

Not sure how I feel about the calling eachother out bit or near scolding of others in the comments. Please let's be welcoming and respectful of others's thoughts regardless of whether or not we agree with it. It's ok to hold diverse views. We do after all come from different backgrounds and have accumulated different experiences and I think it plays out in how we see things. Everyone's opinion is valid. Plus, I purple yall.

Now, do I think he is trying to pack on muscles........? Yes. He said so himself in Festa when he said he would rush to the mirror when he thought he had gained some muscle only to find out his biceps looks like a muscled kindergartner.

He also said lately he's into exercising and staying in shape which is true because for quite sometime now since early this year he has been talking about how "weak" he is in their Vlives and have even given instances of him not being able to do certain things- certian simple and easy tasks- which is typical of him I'd say. He's always talking about how "weak" he is especially around JK and juxtaposing that with "but JK is so strong" which I'm sorry but I have to smirk at right now cos it's such a typical gay pick me simp thing to do. We've all been there.

Do I think he's trying to be a muscle bunny or revert back to his body shape around debut? Absolutely not. But I do think he is straddling the line of toxic masculinity which is what the conversation is about.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to stay in shape or even enjoying work outs. Last night I ran downstairs because I had left my stew on the stove and now this morning I called renew my gym membership because I discovered running can be actually fun to do... No. No it's not. The gym instructor would have to come for me kicking and screaming.

RM have said even though JM looks skinny and fragile he is one of the strongest within the group. Besides, this is not the first time he's expressed interest in working out and building his body- hello, on Era?

I remember people complaining he looked too buffed up in that period on SNS and PJMs quickly jumping in to clear the searches for it. The choreo for On required agility and endurance and required the members- not just JM build up some definition in their muscles.

We've seen them go through all that. So it's not simply a matter of black and white staying in shape or doing it because he feels pressured to do so. Especially, when you consider that he's undertaken some pretty unhealthy measures in the past in attempts to lose weight or soften out his body post these muscle building, weight gaining periods and we've always chalked it up to his dance and how as a contemporary dancer he has to look a certain way or this or that to try to justify and make sense of it. Next you, know there are six chapters of break the silence of him talking about all the dark places he's been, the pressures to look his best for his fans or for his job and all these other painful stories he's shared with us over the years. And it's like, but why? Why do this to yourself?

I'll never forget the look he gave JK when JK was talking about wanting to build muscles in one of the interviews for the promotion of Be- I think I made a post on it. When JK noticed JMs disapproving glare he backtracked saying he would want to stay skinny after gaining all that muscles.

I mean if I'm to be honest, he was bound to crack at one point. The signs were there being surrounded by all these men who adhere to the traditional aesthetics of a masculine body- from Namjoon to Taehyung.

I wish y'all will steer the conversation in this direction and make it more about gender norms and expressions and breaking stereotypes and diversity in the body aesthetics of men.

Jimin is a man too. He just isn't what people traditionally will label masculine. Androgynous is more an apt word in my opinion. How many times have I said, I think Jungkook hetero passes because his body aesthetics is quintessentially what most associates with a masculine man?

Breaking gender barriers is not just about embracing feminine apparels- that teeters on cross dressing quite frankly and can be a bit performative and baity. Then you have to consider their culture in itself has an inherent pro gender diversity feel to it.

Now, let me explain my problem with the Klout ad campaign a little bit.

Do you see how Tae stands out? And I'm not saying this to fuel the "Tae was their fav" debacle. It's the 007 feel... I'll explain in a bit.

Most often, alcohol advertisers as well as most advertisements intended to sell to men often try to appeal to men's internalized ideals of masculinity or try to shape and define what a man or masculinity should look like. These ideals are so often toxic and detrimental to men and mostly women too.

Take a look at these ads for example. All I had to do was google search ads for men.

Real men drink milk and look at the image they present as real men. This blatantly implies if you don't look like this, if you are not a strong cliff climbing man with abs you are not a real man.

The second image is subtle. I call it the 007 slash Kingsmen-esque ideals of masculinity. It portrays men as sexy cool badass- works out but isn't too buff, filthy rich or middle class, wears Rolex, designer clothes, is kind but has a mean exterior and is every 13 year old wattpad girls's dream of a man. In fiction, you see this kind of masculinity in characters such as Edward cullens to Christian Grey. And a lot of ads for men alternate between these two ideals of masculinity.

Do you see how they modeled Taehyung in these ads after this kind of masctheme? Tae looks the same in almost all the ads. 007 sexy cool badass.

Now, I may not be a makeup beauty guru or MUA or whatever, but one thing I've picked up on especially when it comes to makeup for men- BTS and Kpop idols mostly is that, they soften out the harsh features on their faces and make them appear more androgynous or effeminate to suit the Kpop look and they ditch it entirely in different settings.

So for instance, Tae and Kookie's natural hawkish eyebrows tend to get softened around the arch and edges- don't know how the fuck they do that- but it appears less in your face intense most times when they wear make up in kpop related contents.

However, in certain other contents that lean towards a certain gender theme those features are emphasized. Not to say hawkish features are masculine features. Just saying in men, Kpop idols, my observation is they soften those features out with makeup or surgery.

Now, take a look at JM in these ads and look at everything from his posture, make up, hairstyle and brows. It's as if someone took an eraser to his androgynousity and erased his feminine side. Take a look at his photo above and compare it to the ads.

I am not a man. But I feel the gender look they went for, intended to appeal to men, tapped into a rather outdated stereotype of what man and masculinity should look like.

What is a man?

What should a man look like?

What aesthetics of masculinity is Jimin gravitating towards now? And I'm not talking clothes, I'm talking the expression of his gender. Time and again, he's talked about how looking a certain way made him uncomfortable in the past because he was constantly fighting his feminine side. He is androgynous. Sometimes he leans more into his feminine side. Other times he leans more into his masculine side but this is the only time he's leaning into his masculinity that makes me uncomfortable to watch because like I said it bothers on toxic masculinity.

He's said whoever he was, the version fighting to look masculine, that wasn't him. So forgive me if I worry whenever i see him suppressing his feminine side and acting like 'one of the boys.' Him staying in shape is not synonymous with him erasing a valid part of himself or suppressing it. He can stay in shape, celebrate his masculinity and still be FILTER.

What I'm saying is, this not a conversation about him exercising. This is a conversation about an ad erasing his feminine side and boxing him into a narrow expression of his gender and how that might be affecting his view of himself especially in the way he's been gravitating towards a certain masculine aesthetics and how that could be toxic.

Tae has said the same thing and BTS have agreed the JM as of 2019 was the real JM according to them.They said he was that way- suppressing his feminine side, because there weren't much songs and choreos that suited him and so he had had to bend himself to fit with the others.

And so when I see him leaning a certain way I tend to wonder if his exterior environment is playing a role in that. I hope you can understand that.

He is a contemporary dancer and strength and flexibility are prerequisites for his craft. The company go out of their way to incorporate contemporary dance in their choreos for JM's sake which helps solve that problem of him trying too hard to look a certain way.

May be I'm projecting. May be my little brother is effeminate and I've always recommended Jimin as a role for him to tell him not to try to look different just because other boys look different. May be I've seen him try one too many times to kill himself in the gym trying to build on muscles and getting frustrated with himself because he ends up looking like someone else. You can't gym the queerness away. Society will never let you be who you want to be so you might as well flip it the middle finger.

These boys are being shaped by their environment. I hate to say this but the environment they are in isn't exactly progressive and the longer they stay in there cut off from the outside world...

Flying out helps. Meeting different people and being exposed to different cultures and conversations on gender expression helps.

Anywho, these are just concerns I have. Will have them till I see that's not where he is headed towards. But let's not act like these ad campaigns do not and can not psychologically impact these boys especially as these advertisers are not looking to tap into their own definition of gender and masculinity but shape it and redefine it to appeal to the demographic they intend to market to.

I think this is just a grey area for me. Rather than try to change JM to look a certain way in order to sell alcohol. I think the ground breaking thing would be to have a man who looks like JM show us how someone like him would sell a can of drink. I think that would be revolutionary.

Signed,

GOLDY

[radellama]

Magus and/or Flea

Magus

First impression

Ohhhh big cape evil dude with one of the coolest boss themes I've ever heard!?

Impression now

Favorite moment

Sighhhhh there's so many... When you really look at him he has such nuance and everything is linked and I LOVE thinking about him (been almost 15 years lol...) It's really hard to just pick one. For now, let's just say his iconic line

Idea for a story

Men of Mystics

For real tho, I've wanted to do a cool horror/creepy pasta type story about Magus in relation to the black wind. I just don't know how to get the really good feeling out into words or art so it's been a few years in the back of my mind. Just something about being so young and losing your mum to the black winds, and watching your sister slowly succumb to the same thing, all before you start to hear it yourself... Yeah, I wish I had in inspiration to pull it off how I want

Unpopular opinion

A vast majority of the fandom reduce him to a gross and/or incorrect flanderization of self. That, or glossing over him entirely, when he adds so much to the narrative of ct as a whole. I still see fucking terrible takes on him as recently as 2022 lol and it makes me a bit sad. I know my interpretations won't be to everyone's liking but I've put effort into looking into him (and most the ct cast as a whole) and picking up the subtle things that are laid out right there in the source material. Looking only at him (or anyone for that matter) PURELY through a fandom lens gets tiring for me to see sometimes...

Favorite relationship

HARLAND

FOR REAL THO, ALL THESE YEARS LATER AND HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH SCHALA IS STILL SO NICE.... EVEN THO most of that relationship is his one sided view on it, he still dedicated most of his life working to try and avenge/save her. It's strong enough that it prevailed through to both sequels (to varying degrees and missed opportunities 🙄) because he just cared that much. Even when he's a grown man, he's still that little kid who's sad cause he misses his sister!!!!

Favorite headcanon

That the use of magic changes your appearance. I had a whole theory about hair colour and magical affinity, which explains why Magus has such a beautiful icy blue colour. It also explains why his ears got pointy, and I like to further that by imagining that he overall looks very sharp and angular, as much as a human can. I try to express that with most art I make of him, I know he's really hot and even if it's so subtle most will miss it, I try to keep him looking sharp.

///

Flea

First impression

WOAH WE'RE FIGHTING IN THE STARS!!!

(fun fact, flea was one of my very first glimpses of ct, before my very own playthrough I used to sit with my dad in his office and watch him play, and he was going through Magus' castle one of the first time I watched him!)

Impression now

EPIC NB TRANS MASC KING!!!

Favorite moment

Idea for a story

Hmm... Honestly, a lot of the stuff I wanted to explore for him (+the other generals) is gong into men of mystics. I've always just wanted to kinda explore the behind the scenes lives of everyone leading up to the war in 600ad, and that's exactly what men of mystics is - all that boring stuff, but harland is there :p

Unpopular opinion

Flea is not trans fem. Let trans mascs have this one, he literally says 'hey, I'm a guy'

I'm not saying this as a dig at trans fems, if they see something in him and connect with him that way I love to see it - I'm saying as a trans masc myself who often feels like people hear the word 'trans' and think it only means 'trans woman,' let us have this one and respect the masc despite appearing androgynous/feminine, I talked about it a little while ago here

Favorite relationship

Honestly? With slash and ozzie. I'm soooo interested in how the dynamic between the three of them plays out, I love thinking about the antics they'd get up to while they were rising to general status

Favorite headcanon

Honestly not so much a hc but more trying to bring back the aspects of Flea that were lost through translation. Mainly the amazing pun on his name making him talk real flirty. I wish there was a way we could have all the little nuances brought over to eng, I could talk about them all day....

[somedrunkpirate]

Aware || Geraskier Ficlet

Read on ao3 here, or continue below. 

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

Jaskier is a mess of bandages.

He’s lying on the bed, limp— asleep. His chest rises with a shallow rhythm that Geralt tracks despite himself.

There are bloody rags all over the floor. More blood in drops leading from the door to the bed. Geralt’s hands are red, cold and wet. 

But Jaskier is resting now. The work is done. The stitches; moments of frantic focus, feeling every second as it slips past Geralt’s fingers. 

Jaskier is a mess of hidden wounds. Geralt doesn’t know if it is better this way— to not see the slashes in his chest, the long slice across his forehead. White strips of fabric, and then grey and brown when the innkeeper ran out. They’re clean though. She swore on her mother’s grave when Geralt growled out the question. She’d helped him when Jaskier’s body could not be held up alone. Wrinkles set in tense concentration. Quick responses to snapped orders. He doesn’t know when she left. He didn’t notice—

He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t noticed. He hadn’t been watching—

Jaskier is a mess. Fuck. He’ll be so mad when he wakes. Dirt caked in his hair, grime on his arms and hands. His shirt is unsalvageable, his pants stained and scuffed. Geralt doesn’t know for certain if it will wash out, and somehow the lack of answer — because Jaskier will ask — makes his hands clench into fists. He could ask the innkeeper. He should get water to— to clean Jaskier up, just a little, while he rests. He should— He should’ve—

Jaskier is wounded, hurt. It isn’t a novel phenomenon. Trouble smells his presence from a mile away. Monsters, witches, rival bards. “Bait,” Geralt said once,  “that’s what you’re good for.” Jaskier had laughed. Geralt doesn’t see the joke in it anymore. 

Because it was alright before. He got hurt— he got fixed up, end of story. There is danger to be expected traveling at a Witcher’s side, and Jaskier took the risk with that knowledge at hand. There were moments where Geralt wished him to be gone— to not have come with him, to stay out of the way, stay safe — but it was alright, because Jaskier is stubborn, and would likely find many more dangers on his own accord. At least Geralt could keep him in sight. At least he would be aware of what lay ahead and could prepare for it. There are dangers to wandering with a Witcher, but there is safety too. A sword and unnatural senses, keeping the worst of the world at bay. 

So he should’ve seen it coming. 

There is nothing to blame— no monster, no wild hunt plot. Jaskier had not gone off the path, followed him despite warnings, or otherwise played the fool and got himself into danger. They had not even been on contract. Just passing through, on their way to a nearby village. 

It had been a beautiful summer day and it ended in blood. There is nothing and no one to blame but Geralt. 

Jaskier’s head twitches slightly. His breathing hitching once and then again. A soft rumble of a cough. Geralt can see it hurts him— his face contorting in an open way only unconsciousness would allow. But he doesn’t wake from it. Geralt holds still, arms crossed, pressing them against his own chest to keep himself there. He wants to— he wants to go over and check. One more time. Just once. He shouldn’t. He should leave— for a little while. Thank the innkeeper. He doesn’t remember her name. 

Geralt stands at the door, stuck and watching until night falls. 

Jaskier doesn’t wake. 

So he checks. Just once. 

A hand laid gently on Jaskier’s cheek. Clammy skin warns of fever. 

“It will cool soon,” Geralt murmurs. He lets his finger trail the red blush, feels the shape of it as it pulls in air. In and out. “Just rest, Jaskier. Rest and be well.”

A knock, sharp on the chamber door. Geralt pulls back as if burned. He reaches for his sword, swearing under his breath. Distracted, again. Unaware, again. 

“Can I enter?” 

The innkeeper. 

Geralt takes a breath, sheaths his sword. “Be quiet, he is sleeping.”

She takes it as permission, even though Geralt isn’t sure he meant it that way. The idea of another person here, while Jaskier lies vulnerable, makes his skin itch. Even if she was the one who helped him. As if she is any danger. 

The door opens as silently as it can, but the squeaking noise doesn’t stir Jaskier. She pushes it closed with her hip— hands full with a tray of food. 

Geralt frowns at it, conflicted. “He’s sleeping.” 

The innkeeper frowns back. “This is for you.” 

Her words are final. Geralt says nothing. He’s not the one that needs care, but explaining that to her seems a waste of time. He’ll save it for when Jaskier wakes. It shouldn’t be too long now. 

“How is he faring?” she is saying, while rounding the bed to put the tray on the side table. Hands freed, she reaches out to pluck on Jaskier’s bandages. 

Geralt almost growls at her for it, but he swallows it down. He grits his teeth and says, “Fever coming.”

“Hmm.” Now her fingers are on Jaskier’s face. “Some wet rags will do him well. I’ll get them for you.” 

Geralt manages to speak only when she finally steps away from the bed. “Thank you.” 

She turns and then looks at him— eyes flicking up and down with a quick intensity — and puts her hands on her hips. “And when I return, you will go wash yourself—”

Geralt is already shaking his head. 

“—in the river.” She dips her chin and adds, “This is not an argument, Master Witcher. I allowed your entrance because it was an emergency, but I do not want you tramping dirt and blood all over my establishment. I will watch him while you’re gone, if that is what you’re worried about. Not that he’ll be going anywhere.” 

Geralt swallows, his jaw twitching. He wants to refuse, but there is nothing he can say that isn’t I can’t bear to leave him now. There is nothing that she would understand. And he should go. He shouldn’t allow himself to indulge in this. That heavy, sluggish feeling that has been growing within him for months now. The one that rose and rose, filling him up from the inside so that nothing else would fit beside it— not even the sound of a bow being drawn, an arrow being loosed, until it was too late. He should leave it here, sticky and dark, rip himself from it so that his mind is uninhabited by useless thoughts that hold his attention and keep it there like an anchor to a ship, stuck, heavy, impossible to drag along unless the chain is cut through. 

So he nods, and steels himself.

The first steps feel like molasses. His ears are yet filled with the sound of Jaskier’s breath, but once he nears the door the volume lessens and with it his chest tightens. He has to check— he must check, just once— but he continues. Pulling himself out of the room, cutting the chain. Until he can only see the slightest hint of Jaskier’s form and then that is gone again. 

It hurts to continue walking, but Geralt is used to doing exactly that. So he pushes through until he’s left the inn— left Jaskier— far behind. 

New sounds fill his ears. The river, trickling between rocks; nightingales, singing up to the moon; the wind, blowing between leaves and grass. And yet somehow Geralt barely hears any of it. Jaskier’s breathing might be gone, but other sounds take up their place; the clang of sword against sword, the cursed orders of the leading brute, Jaskier’s gasped “Geralt!” just before he slumps to the ground. 

Geralt lets them haunt him while he washes. Jaskier’s blood swirling in the crystal clear water. He watches it go and then sits, for just a moment. 

Another memory— earlier, just before. Another sound. Laughter, like a chime. Geralt doesn’t remember why anymore. 

But it had been beautiful— a beautiful summer day, traveling together. Just passing through. The feeling had been there— everywhere, warming him, being called forward by that laugh until he was filled with it. Geralt had been focused, attention anchored, to Jaskier’s joy. 

He hadn’t heard them coming. 

It was a simple trap, really. Only a small trench covered by bushes, enough to fit seven men if they laid on their stomach. Bandits, the garden variety. The kind that is exactly stupid enough to attack a Witcher and expect to live. 

In all likeliness, the arrow was meant for Geralt. He’d been the true threat— they would have expected Jaskier to co-operate easily. But something had gone wrong, or their bowman just could not aim. And it had hit Jaskier instead. 

The laughter cut silent at once. 

Geralt had killed all of them, of course. They had attacked together and Geralt had taken them out one by one and then dropped to his knees by Jaskier’s side. 

For one endless moment, he’d seen the blood spreading over Jaskier’s chest and thought, It’s his heart. They hit him in his heart. 

But it wasn’t. The arrow had struck him, but got stuck on his fucking journal— the foolish words a blessing for once. The blood was coming from slashes that he’d gotten in the fight— Geralt not fast enough to protect him. He’d been hit over the head and knocked out cold. He was bleeding profusely but it wasn’t his heart. There was a chance. 

The thing inside Geralt had roared and grown several more sizes in the time it took to reach the village with the unconscious body of Jaskier in his arms. By the time he got him inside, there was a moment where he almost couldn’t let him go— couldn’t stand to put him in the bed. But he had to, so he did. 

Geralt breathes in and steps out of the river, pushing the memories away. That was long enough. It is time — he needs — to go back. 

Just to check. Just once.

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

The Critique of Manners Part VI

~Or~

An Attempt at an Objective Review of Emma (2009)... VOLUME TWO

Haha, bitches you didn't think I could wait a whole week did you? Nah, not me. and guys, I added to it--all total, it's 9,023 words now. this half of the review is 5,214. HOW DO I HAVE SO MANY WORDS FOR THIS THING? I'm not gonna split it into a third part, because I don't need to for picture limit purposes, but buckle in.

If you didn't catch it, read part 1 here

Here it is, the stunning conclusion to my Emma Adaptation Review series (but this isn't really the end because I plan on doing some rankings later). In this half of my review of BBC'S Emma (2009) we'll discuss Costumes and all the very specific things that I love about this version, and some things I don't like, and some things I'm here to defend.

Let's dive in!

Costumes

Generally I liked these costumes pretty well. They were designed and facilitated by Rosalind Ebbutt, also known for her work on PBS’s Victoria and Vanity Fair (1998). And her work is, as her filmography would suggest, by turns, great and so-so.

These costumes are definitely in line with the adaptation’s general aesthetic: warm pinks and golds, with mints emeralds and blues to cool it off a little, are the order of the day. I really appreciate that every character has a definite color palette. The tradeoff is that this adaptation is the WORST EVER offender for the Jane Fairfax Blue™ trope.

Daywear

Emma’s daywear is full of warm and muted colors. Salmon and magenta are commonly seen. I love that most of Emma’s daywear consists of sleeveless or short-sleeved gowns with wide-sleeved linen blouses underneath. It’s not a commonly seen aesthetic so it feels light and fresh. My favorite of Emma’s daywear dresses is the pale yellow with purple floral print.

There’s one other in particular that I love.

Emma’s blue, sleeveless dress. I love this because of HOW OBVIOUSLY it’s a reference to this portrait of Charlotte, Princess of Wales. I mean...

I’M NOT IMAGINING THIS, RIGHT? WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THIS? This is a REAL dress. They still have this exact gown of Princess Charlotte’s. It’s on display. It’s faded, but it’s the same dress.

Harriet has a fresh and innocent green, white and purple color scheme with healthy doses of peach and pink showing. I particularly like her white and purple floral print dress.

Mrs. Weston’s color palette varies, but leans heavily on tans and purples, which is very flattering, I must say, to Johdi May’s coloring and is really refreshing for Mrs. Weston who seems to get stuck in pinks and yellows a lot. No idea what’s going on with the laced-front dress though? This doesn’t quite read as authentic to me, but I do like that her first dress seems to be an apron-front.

I know I already said that this is the worst Jane Fairfax Blue™ offender, but guys I can’t stress it enough. WE ARE 5/5 ON DAYWEAR HERE. LOOK AT THAT. (Also of note, Jane 5 is one of Gwyneth Paltrow’s dresses from the '96 Emma.)

Mrs. Elton seems, at all times, to be wearing some form of pink, but I think I’m right in saying that the white day dress with the rose patterned bodice under the yellow and pink spencer is one of Jane’s dresses from P&P ’80. Can anyone confirm that? They did sneak in some Mrs. Elton Orange™ though, for Box Hill, and it’s worth noting that Mrs. Elton is the only lady who’s appropriately dressed on that occasion.

Isabella gets some understated day gowns that are very nice and also VERY “Jane Austen” in the sense that I feel like Jane Austen herself might have worn them.

Miss Bates, unfortunately is slapped with brown at just about every turn, but at least her “Nice” day outfit has some subtle leaf patterns, which is refreshing. Also Mrs. Goddard has a slappin’ cap. Love that.

Also, Harriet’s Grecian costume for the painting (upper right hand corner). What can I say, but that I love it. I love that it hints at the neoclassical influences on Regency fashion too. This is my favorite interpretation of the painting too.

Evening Wear

You know what I love about this version? It’s the first version of Emma where her gown for the Crown in Ball isn’t WHITE. I know, I know white was fashionable, but it’s just… it’s nice for not EVERY gown in a ball scene to be plain white friggin muslin and also, it’s not one she’s ever worn before, which is great.

Harriet does have only white evening gowns but that’s okay. My only complaint is that, specifically on her Crown Inn dress and in a lot of her costumes in general, the waistline seems just a little low. Hmm. I really like the pale blue pattern on her first evening dress though.

Mrs. Weston though. Woo. Look at those. She has a dark chartreuse gown with black lace trim that any other version would have put on Mrs. Elton, so you know from the dark tones that she’s a bitch. Not so with Emma '09, and that’s good. And her teal dinner number is a favorite of mine. I never paid much attention to her green and gold ball gown but it has some really beautiful, subtle leaf or maybe peacock feather patterns on it and I love that. My only problem is that there seem to be some fit issues. She’s got muffin top way too often. Her orange evening dress is a bit of a dud though, firstly, because it has long sleeves (which is an evening gown no-no) and the fabric slaps a bit too much of sari fabric for my tastes.

Jane, not only is put in blue with both of her evening gowns (although one is so pale it borders on white), ONE of them is another Emma ’96 repeat and not only that, it’s one of Jane Fairfax’s dresses in that film! Perhaps that’s enough to make it an homage, and I have to say, I think Laura Pyper wore it better.

Miss Bates only has one evening wear ensemble, but at least it’s cream and not brown.

Mrs. Elton’s gowns are surprisingly understated, and yet still seem to be annoyingly fussy and, what’s better? They’re not sickly green. One of them is actually a very pleasant mint.

Outerwear

Outerwear is roundly pretty great here. Emma’s primary choice of color for spencers is emerald/evergreen and one of them is Elizabeth’s Bennet’s from the 1995 P&P (though to be honest, I think Jennifer Ehle filled it out better.) I do love Mrs. Elton’s pink and yellow number with the slashed sleeves. Jane Fairfax’s only spencer is, you guessed it, blue, but her friend Miss Campbell has a rather fun mauve one.

There’s no shortage of pelisses and redingotes either. Harriet can be seen in one borrowed from Elinor Dashwood in the '08 S&S, Mrs. Weston has a rather fabulous purple one which she wears with the most delicious looking hat I’ve ever seen.

Emma has two. The first one is a great magenta number with military braiding (and I think she wears with it one of the brown slouch hats that Kate Beckinsale wore in the same role) and while the other pelisse is brown, they had the sense not to make her wear a hat with it that was also brown. Instead, they gave her a contrasting color. Good on ya, Rosalind!

Speaking of hats, I don't often single them out for commentary, but I want to here because… the hat authenticity is… kinda spotty. Let me show you.

Okay first of all, Emma may be a teenager in this pic on the upper left, but she is not dressed formally enough for her sister’s wedding (which is what’s going on in this scene) but at least her hat is pretty good. You can see the ribbons are on the inside of the hat here, which is as it should be… but she never wears this hat again. At any point in the series. Instead, we next see her in the one on the upper right and ye gads this is atrocious. WHY IS HER HAT NOT PINNED ON? IT’S SLIDING DOWN THE BACK OF HER HEAD. SOMONE FIX IT. PLEASE. But wait, there’s more. This kills me because these bottom two are so similar to the one she wore earlier (the correct one) but crappier looking. Jeez.

This is not a hat. It’s a peanut. You know who doesn’t have this problem? Harriet. She only has one sun hat but at least it’s correct.

I also wanna touch briefly on this ^ costume continuity issue.

WTF is this? She’s in the hall, her ribbon is contoured to the line of her dress; she goes into the drawing room and… it isn’t anymore? Wha happun?

I took more menswear screencaps for this version than any other version. And that’s because the men just have more outfits that are, y’know, different from each other.

Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight the first pic there and why I love it. This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding.

He also has a rather lovely blue evening waistcoat that I WISH I could have gotten better shot of (although I do believe it’s also worn by Henry Crawford in the '07 Mansfield Park, so for further reading…)

Mr. Weston finally gets to wear clothes that aren’t all brown! He only has ONE brown outfit. He gets PATTERNED waistcoats, one of them a rather spiffing blue and brown striped number. And he wears TROUSERS! Because he’s a gentleman, and he’s not that old and trousers are worn by fashionable gentlemen in this period!

You know who else gets to wear trousers and at least one fun waistcoat? Mr. Woodhouse. Check out that lovely Sunday Best™ waistcoat. The red striped one. That’s delightful.

John Knightley’s evening wear intrigues me. That’s a double-breasted jacket, and you know I’m not totally sure that’s very authentic for evening-wear of this period, but it is different. Unfortunately he also has a flared top hat and that is definitely not on for this period.

One of my favorite things about this version is that they don’t dress Mr. Elton as a clergyman all the time. Yes, he may be the vicar, but he’s also allowed to dress like a fashionable, handsome young man. So I’m really happy that he gets to flex his fashion muscles here.

And speaking of fashionable young men, FINALLY frank gets to be COLORFUL and his trousers are even tight enough. Both he AND Elton are often seen wearing TWO waistcoats, as I would expect them to, and even though Frank’s a dandy, he knows that flashiness is gauche so his pops of color are bright, but not in your face. His green and red waistcoats are always worn under more muted colors, and I just love it.

The only problems are… what’s with the turned-down waistcoat collars? There’s no precedent for this, in fact I think it’s directly contradictory to the style at the time, and also it makes the cravats look a bit unruly.

A Critique of Manners

A lot has been said about the manners in this adaption. Like, the actual manners, body language and facial expressions, specifically vis-à-vis Romola Garai.

And, oh yeah, there’s a lot to pick at here, but first I’d like to talk about the facial expressions.

I'm mostly gonna be talking out of my ass here, but this is my take, so if anyone can make a better argument against my points, I am listening, because I don't really like talking out of my ass and I like to be informed. That said...

I tend to be lenient on the… exaggerated facial expressions because, something I’ve noticed reading Austen’s works through the last several months is that Austen is very descriptive when it comes to facial expressions and I just find it hard to believe that people in the Regency Era never made exaggerated expressions like this.

I’ve heard a lot about how Garai’s Emma is not dignified or lady-like. But let’s think about the context of Emma Woodhouse – she’s never been in society. She’s only had a governess to teach her, and we know Emma’s always been sort of averse to being told what she can and can’t do. Emma is the highest ranking woman in her social circle (barring Isabella’s occasional presence). Emma doesn’t have to be ladylike. At 21, she’s already her local Lady Catherine. She puts a lot of stock in her position in society but, as Mrs. Elton will be the first to hypocritically point out, she’s very poorly behaved. I'd be very curious to see what would happen if Emma went to London for the season. Probably, she'd be seen, comparatively, as a country bumpkin. Can you imagine how she might get on in a sea of accomplished young ladies? She can barely handle having ONE rival with any kind of grace.

Austen never describes bodily movements of the kind we’re looking at when we watch adaptations, so why not have Emma’s body-language be un-ladylike in the conventional sense of the time? I’m not saying this to excuse the absolutely inexcusable (Frank’s head in her lap, kneeling on the sofa backwards etc.), but while Emma’s mannerisms aren’t exactly ladylike for her time, they’re not overtly masculine either (which was one of my biggest problem with Death Comes to Pemberly for example.)

Yes, there’s an ideal for manners. But we know real people didn’t always follow those ideals. In dancing for example, many dancing guidebooks of the day were full of repeated instructions not to be too loud or rambunctious when dancing. What this tells us is that people were doing just that, and probably quite a bit, too. I think that, while taking societal strictures into account, we shouldn’t totally discount the idea that people in the Regency weren’t really that different from us, and young people especially.

Now I’ve already mentioned some of the inexcusable aspects of interaction in this adaptation and they’re so notorious at this point, I don’t think that I really need to go over them much here. Although I will say: is it ridiculous to have Frank Churchill put his head in Emma’s lap? Yes. Did it make me more viscerally uncomfortable with the situation on Box Hill than any other version? Yes.

I was like, 14 when I watched this the first time. This was an effective way to telegraph to young people like me that Emma is being extremely inappropriate here in a way that no other version really managed to, even when I watched them when I was older and understood the period more. I’m far more acquainted with Regency manners than I was then, but to be honest – if they had been accurate with the manners here, when I was 14 I would not have understood what the big deal was. Is there merit in circumventing historical accuracy in favor of reaching a less-informed but still-interested audience? Yes, I think so. There were three other versions of this, at that point, that did this scene with more or less pristine manners. Not every version has to follow the manners of the time to-the-letter to be good. That’s my feeling on the matter.

There are things that do really bother me though. Like the idea that Harriet Smith doesn’t know how to spoon soup, for instance. As I said in my review for the Miramax version, table manners are pretty basic, there’s no reason Mrs. Goddard wouldn’t have taught Harriet this. It does provide a good moment to show Emma tacitly coaching Harriet and showing the trajectory in which this relationship will go, but personally I don’t think it was necessary—there are plenty of other ways that could be done.

Also: kids at the dinner table? I know this is part of building the familial atmosphere but it really does annoy me, because apart from building the familial atmosphere (which they do very well and frequently in other ways) it really didn’t need to happen, and it doesn’t add anything.

The Heart of Highbury

So, as I’ve hinted at throughout this review, the bread and butter of this adaptation of Emma is emotion. This version goes hard and heavy on showingthe relationships – Emma’s relationships with Mrs. Weston, Mr. Knightley, her father, her sister, her brother-in-law, Miss Bates; Jane’s relationship with Frank; Frank’s relationship with his father; The John Knightleys’ home life – and it illustrates things that can be surmised from just reading the story, but really draws your attention to them in ways that other adaptations just don’t.

It does this from the very beginning with the prologue which explains in detail (not just in quick exposition between characters) how Jane and Frank were separated from their families at young ages. We know now, from psychological study, that being taken away from their primary caretakers during their formative years is one of the most psychologically traumatizing things for a child. This is deeply important context which is explained in detail by the narrator in 2-3 large pages (in my Barnes & Noble anthology) in the book.

In the featurette on the houses, they talk particularly about Hartfield and the Woodhouses being the heart of Highbury and how they particularly wanted it to feel homey because Hartfield is Emma’s house and they wanted the audience to feel why everyone is so drawn to it, and to Emma; to me that is what they did with the whole adaptation in microcosm.

I usually talk a bit about the dancing and I'm going to here as well because this is maybe the most special dance scene in any Austen for me. Of course I'm going to link to Tea with Cassiane as usual because she knows what she's talking about and I don't. But I wanna add some comments. She gives this a pretty low rating in spite of a generally favorable commentary because of two big oopsies, the circle dance formation is one, and the other is I believe, an issue with the style of dance not matching the tune in Emma's dance with Knightley. Throwing out any objective technical analysis though, this is my favorite Ball in any Austen and it all comes down to the cornerstone of this adaptation--emotion.

All of the songs and dances were original compositions and choreography made for this adaptation. So they're not period per se, but the tunes at least are representative of how Regency dance music should sound. These dances are upbeat, and lively and, damn they look like fun. Everyone is excited here and it makes me understand why dancing was such a big thing. Best of all that excitement adds to the emotional charge of the scene. "The Ship's Cook" is the most fast paced dance and I'm glad they made this the dance where Elton snubs Harriet because it really hits for me just what Harriet would be missing out on if Knightley wasn't so fucking aptly named. In all other versions you get the insult, but the dance that's taking place is usually a Baroque walker so it doesn't seem terribly like she's missing out on much. Here, this is like not getting picked for kickball-- not only is it a slight that no one wants you on their team, but you miss out on even playing the game. Harriet looks so lonely, and her feeling of being out of place rolls off of Louise Dylan so forcefully it chokes me up just thinking about it because I've been there, man. I feel this shit. *dabs eyes*. Ahem. So, yes, when Knightley engages her for the dance the excitement the viewer feels is that much more forceful and Harriet's exuberantly starting to jump in when the timing is off and Knightley gently pulling her back, it just hits me in the feels center, guys. (I wanna take a moment to give a shout out to every camp counselor who ever partnered with me for any game at summer camp.) Emma's reaction too, is gold. Her genuine relief at Knightley swooping in is one of those great reminders that Emma is Harriet's friend, and she does care about her.

Finally on the dancing front, I wanna talk about Emma's dance with Knightley and why I prefer it to the one in the 2020 version. I already talked about this a bit in the 2020 review, so I'm gonna try and keep it brief. That shouldn't be too hard, because I'm probably mostly going to repeat a lot of what I've already said about Emma and Knightley in this version as a whole.

The big thing everyone loves about the Crown Inn dance in the 2020 is the yearning, the sexual tension, the quivering touches etc. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE all of those things but... not all the time. Not in everything, and definitely not in Emma. Because Emma, to me, isn't about repressed sexuality or heated tension or seething passion. Emma and Knightley are the opposite of that, to me, really. One of my mutuals put it best, I think: "Emma and Knightley are more suited to stolen glances than hot touches."

In Part 1 I talked about how Knightley is Emma's comfort object. When Emma is out of sorts, Knightley re-centers her. It helps set up, and puts emphasis on, the crisis of the story in the last act--Emma not knowing what she has until [she thinks] she's lost it. Emma and Knightley are Friends to Lovers done as it should be. She is already so comfortable with him she doesn't even realize her own feelings. She just feels right with Knightley and that's what this dance is here to show you--a foreshadowing of matrimonial harmony.

The dance itself, of course, is always up to interpretation, because Austen never describes how it goes, just that Knightley asks Emma to dance and Knightley doesn't dance (barring charitable causes). If you prefer the sexual tension take, if that, to you is an improvement on Austen's story and gives you what you've always felt was missing, I'm glad that there is a version now that gives you what you've been looking for, but for me, I think the 09 approach hits closer their dynamic in the book.

Now do I do think the Emphasis on emotion maybe went a little too earnest in some places in this adaptation? Maybe. Just a little.

In my last review (1972) I went on a rather lengthy tirade about the scene where they turn Emma’s appeals to Harriet to exert herself and move on following Mr. Elton’s marriage into Emma guilting Harriet into thinking she’s a bad friend for being heartbroken and then throwing her into the situation most likely to rub salt in that particular wound.

In this version, while I love the emphasis they put on the stress Emma puts on her own guilt for being the reason for Harriet’s situation in the first place, I think it’s maybe a little too… much.

That’s the only way I can put it. I know I’ve just said that I think there should be a bit more expressiveness in period drama, but this doesn’t quite match the way I read it (Emma’s a bit less desperate in Austen’s prose. Very dedicated to helping Harriet feel better, but just a skosh more composed). I think she’s even crying in this scene.

While we’re here let’s go over to Box Hill ONE. MORE. TIME.

First of all, this is where this screenplay shines, in my opinion. This is the big turning point in the story and as such, should be a touchstone for the judgment of any adaptation. This sequence in the 2009 version is a perfect crystallization of everything I love about this version—namely that this is the version that, to me, most feels like someone read the book thoroughly, paid attention to what Austen was describing and then actually tried to convey it on screen. A lot of other versions sort of feel (to me), like the director glanced at the page and said “here’s what I want to convey in my version”. Insofar as making a piece of art goes, that’s good. Directors are artists as much as painters are and movies are their canvass, but it’s seldom that you find a director who honestly wants to hit as close to the author intent as possible and this Box Hill sequence makes me feel like that’s what Jim O’Hanlon was going for. I have the book open next to me as I write this and it’s shocking to me how minutely the atmosphere described in the book is conveyed here. Most of all, the fact that Emma’s insulting Miss Bates is not the only thing faux pas she makes here. Box Hill as a whole is a disaster, and it’s largely because of Frank.

“When they all sat down it was better; to [Emma’s] taste, a great deal better, for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay, making her his first object. To amuse her, and to be agreeable in her eyes, seemed to be all that he cared for—and Emma, glad to be enlivened, and not sorry to be flattered, was gay and easy too, and gave him all the friendly encouragement, the admission to be gallant, which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance; but which now, in her own estimation, meant nothing, though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. “Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted excessively.” They were laying themselves open to that very phrase—and to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady, to Ireland by another. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity; it was rather because she felt less happy than she expected. She laughed because she was disappointed…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Most other versions rush through Frank’s “excessive” flirting with Emma (Right in front of Jane) to get to “Three Things Very Dull Indeed” as fast as possible, and yes that’s the crowning horror of Box Hill, but there’s a very intricate setting here, too, and this version has the time to lay back and let it all unfold in the oppressive discomfort of an English summer day.

Even better than all of that though is Knightley confronting Emma after it all goes down. This treatment is neither plaintive, nor aggressive as it was in ‘96 and ‘97 respectively. I’ve already extolled the virtues of Johnny Flynn’s Box Hill rebuke, but for a change I’m not going to zero in on Miller’s performance which is, at least as good as Flynn’s, but on Romola Garai’s, which I find superior to Anya Taylor Joy’s. Specifically, her reaction once she’s alone.

ATJ in the 2020 version immediately breaks down sobbing and it’s hard for me to feel that she’s sobbing for “anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern” or that there’s much self-reflection going on there. To me it rather just feels like she’s crying because she got shouted at. The theatrics of it, to me, feel childish and self-centered.

I don’t feel that with Garai’s performance.

“She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed—almost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was most forcibly struck . . . How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in anyone she valued! And how to suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!

Time did not compose her…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Of course one can make the case that Emma's reaction should be a bit childish because Emma is an immature character, but that's the thing--I can agree with you anywhere else in this story but this is Emma's maturing moment. This is her turning point as a character. It's where we should see her reactions shift from the same childish denial we're used to seeing when Knightley scolds her, because this is different. It's not the usual brushing off of big brother Knightley, this is a young woman reacting to an esteemed friend pointing out how abhorrently inappropriate she's been and her having to admit that to herself.

I didn't really want to drag comparisons to the 2020 film into this, not on this scale at least, but this just jumped out at me the last time I watched the new film and I have to express it somewhere.

What I see in Garai’s performance is desolation and mortification. That shocked tearfulness of knowing you’ve been justly reproached for wrongdoing, but being too frozen in a pretense of composure to actually cry about it until you’re quite sure that no one will see you. And especially when it’s someone you esteem rebuking you, the horror of them leaving before you can admit that they’re right. There’s so much more depth here, I think, and I can’t even quite express what it makes me feel.

The aspect of time not composing her is another thing that they decided to put stress on in this version. Emma looks fucked up in the following scenes. When she goes to see Miss Bates, she clearly either hasn’t slept or has slept very badly. I feel like this is maybe an anticlimactic conclusion to this section but I’m afraid I’m very close to reaching incoherence, so I’m just gonna leave it here.

My absolute favoritest thing about this version though—something that sets it apart from ALL other versions and even adaptations of other Austen stories—is the inclusion of the post-confession conversation.

This is something of a trope in Austen books but it very rarely finds its way into adaptations: confessions of love are out of the way, the hero and heroine settle into an easy an comfortable conversation, glowing with happiness as they explain and laugh over their actions and misinterpretations of each other’s choices. It happens in Pride and Prejudice, in Persuasion, and yes, in Emma. This is the only Austen adaptation, that I've seen, to include this kind of conversation in any kind of detail. The 1995 Pride and Prejudice alludes to the corresponding scene in it its source material, but the lines pulled from it get tossed into the confession scene itself and then it flies through to get to the obligatory wedding—a side effect of rushing through endings, a convention I’m rather tired of.

Emma (2009) takes its time with this, as with all other aspects of this adaptation. For a version that’s so full of energy, its pacing is extremely laid back and comfortable, without dragging. When you hear the gentle musical swell and Emma and Knightley have their kiss (this whole confession sequence is so sweet and wonderful in its own right), you expect that to be it. But no, we cut to them, the picture of contented happiness, sitting together on a bench overlooking Hartfield’s garden, just talking and enjoying being together, with no teasing, no pretense. If Jane Austen stories emphasize anything, it’s the importance of communication in relationships, and I think that’s maybe why she made it a point in almost every story to show her characters communicating their feelings in words, even after all the conflict has been resolved. This is my favorite scene in the whole series (In case it being my header image didn’t make that obvious.)

This is followed rather promptly by a cut to the next day, with Emma bursting in to Donwell in hysterics about how they can’t be married because she won’t leave her father alone.

This is one of those maybe over-the-top choices that a lot of people don’t like, but guys, it was so funny to me when I was fourteen and it still makes me laugh. It might seem outlandish, but to me it’s just the emphasis on personal relationships and emotion coming through again and it always makes me smile.

Final Thoughts

It’s hard for me to give a proper round up of my feelings for this section because I think I’ve poured just about all of my feelings on each aspect into its dedicated sections.

At the end of the day, the only thing that really disappoints me about this version is the number of missed opportunities there are here. One of my favorite parts of reading Austen is when I run across a line in dialogue or narrative that just… slaps. But they never make it into the adaptations. Emma is full of them and I just wish that Sandy Welch could have taken an opportunity to slip a few of them in.

In summary, I think this is a wonderful, heartfelt adaptation aimed at getting to the emotional heart of a story that often gets caught up in the Mean Girl-ness of its main character than the coming of age story that it is. It's one of my favorite period dramas because it's one of the few that really captures the spirit of the source material as it's always felt to me. There's really only two other period dramas that I esteem on the same level as this, and they're North & South (2004) and Jane Eyre (2011) and it's for the same reasons; because they impact me deeply on an emotional level--which is what art is supposed to do--because of how well it captures the essence of the story that I know and love.

So did I succeed in a more objective review of Emma 2009? I' feel like probably not. But I tried my best. It’s so hard to be objective about something that makes you as happy as this adaptation makes me.

Ribbon Rating: Most Agreeable (83 Ribbons)

Tone: 10

Casting: 9

Acting: 9

Scripting: 7

Pacing: 10

Cinematography: 7

Setting: 9

Costumes: 6

Music: 8

Book Accuracy: 8

[love-anddeepression]

Chapter 5- Lamentis 1

Prologue:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657924038358908928/youre-not-him-loki-x-femreader-prologue

Chapter1:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657924201329672192/youre-not-him-chapter-1

Chapter2:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657925667989667840/youre-not-him-chapter-2

Chapter3:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657926281710665728/youre-not-him-chapter-3

Chapter4:https://ilovemarvelanne1.tumblr.com/post/657927155478659072/youre-not-him-chapter-4

You and Loki just make it through the Time door and you're.....back at the TVA

"Wait, why are we back here?" Loki asks, confused.

"Loki, she knows where the Time keepers are!" you say and begin running toward the door.

"Wait!" Loki calls out.

"What?" you walk back and ask.

Taking his daggers out of the locker, he looks at you and says, " Be careful, I don't want you to get hurt."

Face softening, you smile and say, " Don't worry about me, I took on a Mad Titan, I can be careful."

Loki's eyebrows go up at the mention of this 'Mad Titan' but he doesn't say anything.

"Come on, let's go!" you say and run out, him closely following you.

~~

Readying your knives you slowly walk across the corridor, alert and ready to fight. Loki is doing the same except you have your hood on nd no one can see your face. As you keep walking you come across two bodies of some minute-men she killed.

Walking faster, both of you get there just in time.

Flipping your knives, you wait, but the ass can't help himself.

" A few questions" He asks, making you roll your eyes.

" Have you got nothing better to do?" she asks.

" I agree with her." you say making her smirk.

Ignoring what you just said, Loki makes his way behind her, "Rude, are you sure you're a Loki?" he asks, pointing his dagger at her.

"You're in my way" she says

"You are my way!" Loki quips back.

At this point, you're leaning against the wall, playing with a knife as you watch the scene unfold.

Finally The Variant unsheathes her Katana and ready to fight, she swings it at Loki, but he dodges it and is pushed back almost colliding with you.

"I thought we could work together, but I see you lack vision."

Groaning, she ignores him, walking toward the elevators.

Taking the chance you slip up behind her and using the moment, you kick the back of her knees, causing her to double over in pain.

Loki comes and twists her hand behind her, making her grunt in pain.

"Either, you'll come willingly or not, either way, I get to the time-keepers."

" Oh god. Shut up!" she says and wriggles out his grip, kicking him in the stomach before coming over to you.

Slashing her katana over your head, you duck and kick her in the stomach, causing her to be launched backwards, she extends her arms and manages to cut your cheek whilst being thrown backwards.

Loki gets up and making his way toward her, in a low and gravelly voice, he threatens," Don't ever touch her again." before she pushes him over, the three of you are now fighting, the sound of metal clanging, grunts of pain and the occasional sarcastic quip.

It's when you have a chokehold on her and she's pressing her katana into Loki  that Ravonna comes in.

"Come any closer and I'll kill him." she threatens.

" Oh hehe, no darling, you hurt him and I'll kill you," you reply, which for some reason makes Loki's heart flutter.

"Go for it." Ravonna says  before making her way towards you.

Just in time, Loki takes The Variant's TemPad and transports all of you somewhere else.

~~

You wake up to see Loki and The Variant fighting like cats and dogs over the TemPad.

" Okay, where the fuck are we?" you ask. You're in a tent somewhere.

" Y/n! Thank goodness, you're alright." Loki says in relief.

Taking your hood off, you look at both of them, just in time to see The Variant's breath hitch.

"Wow, she's beautiful" ,you hear her thoughts.

" Better block your minds both of you, I can hear loud thoughts, thank you, you're really pretty too." you say.

Immediately the barriers come up,, making you smirk

" Thanks." she says her voice friendlier.

Suddenly, a rock is blasted through the roof, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

" Where did you send us?" you and The Variant say.

Walking out, you immediately recognize the place, purple, rocky and of course, the planet crashing into it

Lamentis 1

"Oh shit! This is Lamentis 1!" you shout.

"Wait what?" Loki asks.

"You idiot!" The Variant shouts, " We're in Lamentis 1!"

"I don't know what that means!" Loki answers, distressed.

" The moon, that planet is about to crash into and destroy!" you reply.

"Out of all the apocalypses, saved on that TemPad, this is the worst!" she says.

Dodging a few meteorites, the three of you run.

" No one makes it off here!" she shouts.

"Watch out!" you say pulling Loki away just in time.

" Sorry Madam, I didn't have time to scan the brochure!" he shouts back, the three of you taking cover under a rover

" By the way, I thought you wanted me dead!" he said.

" I don't know where you hid that TemPad, but if you blow up, it blows up and then I blow up-There!" she shouted, pointing to a mining shack.

" So we're a team now ?" Loki  says running out.

"Oh god no!"

Suddenly, the both of them get surrounded with golden wisps of magic and you find yourselves inside the shack.

"What did you do?!" The Variant shouts in your face.

" Calm down, I teleported the three of us, into the shack, you're welcome." you reply face straight and voice monotone.

"Oh, Thanks." she says awkwardly before touching your forehead, green magic fizzling out.

You can hear Loki shout at her, but you smirk and say, " Darling take your hands of my forehead, It won't work."

"Why?" she asks, her and Loki looking at you in surprise,

" My mind is too strong, it's been taken over a few times, so I know how to block it. I'm Y/n by the way." you reply.

"Huh, cool." she says before making her way to Loki,

"No way, are you going to try enchanting me!" he says,

"Fine!" she says, unsheathing her katana.

Conjuring twin daggers Loki says, " Look are we really about to do this here? Again?" he asks

" Well, what do you propose instead?" she says

" Oh, I don't know a truce? Listen neither of us is getting of this rock if we can't get that TemPad on!" he replies

"Where do you have it hidden?" she shouts

"In my heart!"

"Well then, I'll cut it out!"

"Nice. very droll, lovely."

You had had enough of their petty bickering.

"All right! Both of you SHUT UP!" you shout gaining their attention.]

" I want to get of of this god-forsaken place as much as you do ok? But none of us are getting out of this place if the two of you keep screaming at each other like little children! SO GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER SO WE CAN HAVE SOME CHANCE OF LEAVING THIS PLACE!" you shout at the end.

The two of them have crossed their arms and look like they're sulking.

" I don't know how to charge a TemPad, I never used one, but I do know, that you need a large power source, and the only way to do that is by getting out of this abandoned mining shack. I've been here before, and there's a town up ahead, if we leave now, we might be able to find a source large enough."

The Variant uncrosses her arms and says, " Alright, a truce."

" A truce." Loki agrees.

" Great, now that you finished making up, we can leave, you say and walk out, the two of them following you.

"I like here." the girl says to Loki.

" I like her too." he agrees looking at you.

~~

" So what's the plan?" Loki asks the Variant, falling behind both of you.

"What Y/n said, there's a town near here, and can you shut up, just because I have to work with you, doesn't mean I want to hear your voice." she shouts back to him.

"Alright, well slow down!"

"What part of imminent death confuses you? and don't call me Variant." she tell him.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not calling some faded photocopy of me Loki." he says

"Good, cause that's not who I am now, I'm Sylvie now."

"Sylvie? Nice name"

" Thank you! I like yours too!" she says smiling.

" Oh good, you changed your name! Brilliant!"

" It's called an alias." she says.

"Not very Loki-like" Loki comments.

" Oh really. what makes a Loki a loki?" you ask

" Independence, Authority, Style." Loki lists out.

" So you naturally went to work for the boring oppressive time-police?" Sylvie pipes in.

" I don't work for them, I'm a consultant."

"Oh, are you now?" you ask smirking.

" Yes." Loki says looking at you.

" You don't know what you want." Sylvie says

" Oh yeah, what about you?" Loki quips back, " Your years-in-the-making plan was to tear the place down, create the ultimate power vaccuum and then walk away? I'd never have done that!" he says, standing back.

" Yeah? Well I'm not you." she replies.

"I like you." you tell Sylvie.

" I like you too." she replies, half-smiling.

Loki looks on, his face a mix of jealousy and disbelief. but who is he jealous of? You or Sylvie?

" Can we get on with this now?" Sylvie says walking away leaving Loki and you alone.

Smiling at him. you reach your hand out to him, "Come on Lokes, let's go, Neither of us are dying today."

His lips quirk up and he takes your hand and both of you walk toward Sylvie, hand-in-hand.

~~

"Brute force is no substitute for diplomacy and guile." Loki tells Sylvie.

" Noted" Sylvie says before kicking the door open, only to be blasted by an energy blast.

Groaning, she turns to face the cabin,

"It's remarkable you ever made it as far as you did." Loki taunts.

"Are you ok?" you mouth to Sylvie.

Nodding she turns her attention to the lady.

" Sorry about that!" Loki says

"Don't be, I enjoyed it."  the lady says, still inside the trailer.

" Oh.." he chuckles, " I did too. But I can assure you, despite my acquaintance behaving like an animal, uh we mean you no harm, we're simply weary travellers." he says making you facepalm.

" Sure you are." She replies.

Snooping inside, Loki spies a picture of the lady and her husband, he then casts an illusion to make him look like the husband, before going to the front.

" Hello dear." He says.

" Patrice?" the lady says, face in shock.

Nodding his head and sobbing, he says, " It.. it's been a long time. You're as beautiful as--"

He too get's thrown backwards and this time you audibly groan,

" Ma'am. I'm really sorry what's been happening to you today, but all we want to know is where everybody is, we just want to get out of this place." you say.

" The ark." she replies.

" Um.. what?" you ask, confused.

" The evacuation vessel" she explains.

"Ok, how do we get there?" you ask

" Train station's at the end of town, but you'll never get tickets." she says.

" Okay, thank you very much Ma'am, we'll leave now, and you'll never see us again." you replay and walk over to your partners who look shocked.

"And that's how you do it. Come on, we need to get the train station."

~~

When you reach the train station, you see a huge crown of people waiting in line to board the train.

" How are we going to get in there?" Loki asks

" I can be invisible, so I'm covered." you say

" Is there anything you can't do?" Loki asks, amused.

Apparently I can't move on-

" I suck at mathematics" you shrug and tell him.

Biting his lip and laughing, he shakes head.

" Well, Sylvie we can't fight our way onto that train, we're going to do this my way." saying so, he cast an illusion, now he's wearing the turtleneck uniform, and shit why does he look so good?

" Ok, Y/n? Y/n where are you?" he says suddenly panicking.

" I'm right behind you doofus." you say, now invisible

" How do I look?" he asks Sylvie.

" Like someone with a shit plan." Sylvie says, making you laugh.

" Come on, my legs are hurting!" you say.

" It's a great plan." Loki argues.

"Hmmm." Sylvie hums.

" Just follow my lead." he says, taking her arms and leading her inside.

Why the hell am I feeling jealous? They're basically the same person!

~~( I'm skipping that part, where they get on the train, I hope you don't mind."

"I can't sit, backward on a train." Loki says.

"Well, I never sit my back to a door." Sylvie says

" What there are doors on both sides." he exclaims.

" God! Choose where you want to sit, I'm sitting here." you say, sliding into the empty seat.

Loki immediately sits next to you.

Seeing Sylvie yawn, he says, " Oh, you a bit tired? Feel free to you know, take some rest."

" I can't sleep in a place like this." she answers.

" You can't sleep in a train?" Loki asks.

" I can't sleep around untrustworthy people." she says.

" Oh right, that's us?" Loki whispers.

" Just you." she answers smiling at you.

Scoffing, Loki narrows his eyes at you.

Narrowing your eyes back, you make him laugh.

"But, you feel free to take a nap." she says.

" Nice try."

" I'm not going to waste my time rooting around for the TemPad, when someone taught you fairly decent magic."

" My mother."

You gulp when he mentions Frigga, she reminded you of your own mother, who was shot to death, along with your family.

Sylvie looks around slowly before asking, " What was she like?"

Smiling, Loki says," She was a queen of Asgard, she was good, purely decent."

" Are you sure, she was your mother?"

"Uh, no she's not actually, I was adopted, is that a bit of a spoiler for you? Sorry about that." He says.

"No, I knew I was adopted." she replies.

" What? They told you?"

"Yes. did they not tell you?"

"No!" he says, shocked.

" Hang on a second, tell me about your mother."

" I barely remember her, just blips of a dream at this point." she says, voice low.

" You know, when I was younger, she'd  do these bits of magic for me, like turn a flower into a frog or cast fireworks over the water. It all seemed impossible, but she told me that I'd be able to do it too, because I could do anything." He says smiling at the memory.

" I knew Frigga." you say.

Loki turns to look at you, " You-what?"

" I knew Frigga, she was.. she was amazing, accepting and took me in as her own, even though I had been in Asgard for a few days."

" You've been to Asgard?" Loki asks, Sylvie listening.

" Yes, um Mobius didn't tell you the full story. The first time you went to Asgard, Odin made you come back and stay the at the tower a punishment for around a year, I came a few days before you, and the second time you went and were put in the dungeon, I came along. We were actually really good friends." friends my ass.

"Wow, We were friends?" Loki asked.

"Good friends." mmm very good friends

" So what kind of magic did she teach you?" Sylvie asks.

" You wanna see?" Loki says suddenly excited.

He opens his hand, palm up, and fireworks of different colours apper and burst, you remember this, it's what Loki would do to cheer you up.

" Not bad." Sylvie comments.

Closing his hand, the fireworks disappear.

" So, where'd you learn to do the...you knew the thing that you do?"

" I taught myself." Sylvie replies.

" You taught yourself that magic?" you ask

" Yes, I did." she replies.

" What-you just go into their minds and project some sort of illusion?"

" It'd be easier if I just-" she leans forward as if wanting to touch his forehead.

Enchant me, and take the TemPad and leap out of the train, not thank you." he says making you giggle.

" Well then, don't ask! " she asks.

A woman comes up and offers champagne, Loki takes two and gives you one.

" Thank you." you say

" Your welcome." he says leaning in.

" No, thank you." Sylvie says,

"I'll take hers." he says taking the third champagne flute.

" Cheers, to the end of the world." he says and you both drink.

" A pity the old woman chose die, don't you think?"

" She was in love." you say.

" She hated him." he answers.

" Maybe love is hate." Sylvie adds.

Making a face, Loki conjures a paper and a quill, " What was that? Love is hate..." he writes down.

" Oh piss off!" you and Sylvie say at the same time, before looking at each other and chuckling.

Disappearing the paper, he says, " So on the subject of love, is there a lucky beau waiting for you at the end of this crusade?" he asks.

" Yes there is, actually." she replies.

" Oh!" you say.

" Yes, I managed to maintain a long-distance relationship with a postman whilst running across time from one apocalypse to another." she says jokingly

" With charm like that, who could resist you?" Loki says.

" Well, many people are willing in the face of certain doom." she laughs." It was only ever just to keep me going. How about you? You're a prince, must've been would-be-princesses, or perhaps another prince."

Ha ha! Sweetie, darling, if only you knew, I WAS HIS FIANCE!

" A bit of both, I suspect the same as you, but almost always, it was nothing ever...." he says.

" Real."  Sylvie finishes.

" Love is mischief, then." she says.

Looking up, he says, " No, love is..something I need to have another drink about."

" You do realize, that we're about to hijack the power source to a civilization's only hope?"

Shit. You didn't realize that.

" I do." you and Loki say at the same time.

" It's not going to be easy. We should rest." she says

" All right, you relax your way, I'll relax mine." he says

" Fair enough." you add, conjuring up your MP3 and putting the buds in your ears.

~~

"Men trærne danser og fossene stanserNår hun synger, hun synger kom hjemMen trærne danser og fossene stanser,When she sings, she sings come home!When she sings, she sings come home!"

You and Sylvie wake up to loud singing, looking to your left, you see Loki singing and dancing, clearly drunk.

" Hey!" Sylvie  waves.

Waving back, he continues singing and then shushes everyone.

"I stormsvarte fjell

Jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreer tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

Og synger

Når kommer du hjem?"

You remember this, a song you heard Thor and him sing, and you loved it.

The song picks up and Loki starts clapping and dancing, making you smile.

" To Sylvie everybody!" he cheers.

Finishing his drink, he throws the glass down, shouting, " ANOTHER!".  

Just like how Thor would do it, every time he finished a drink he liked.

As soon as he finishes, Sylvie and you, walk over and pull him to the side.

" You're drunk." you say

"No, I'm just full, but bear  in mind I'm very full. Now, I need you to try this, it pairs very nicely with the Figgy Port, who's got the Figgy Port? You have to take my word on the Figgy port.-"

" Where's your uniform? We're meant to be laying low."

" Nobody cares, it's the end of the world!" he says

" I think something's happening." you say.

" Yes, uh that planet" he says pointing up, " is about to crash into us."

" Don't be an ass, I saw some people looking at you weirdly." Sylvie says.

" Huh?" he says dropping the dish, " When did you get so paranoid?"

" It must have started when I spent my entire life running from the omniscient fascists you and Y/n work for."

" It's a shame to let that go to waste." Loki says , looking down at the food he dropped.

" Hey, change of subject, I thought of an answer to your question! Love is a dagger." He says his dagger appearing," It's a weapon, to be wielded far away or up close, you can see yourself in it, it's beautiful, until it makes you bleed, but ultimately when you reach for it," he continues, turning the dagger so the handle faced Sylvie, who tries to hold it, but it disappears.

"It isn't real." she finishes.

" Yeah." he says looking at her.

" So love's an imaginary dagger?" you ask

" Doesn't make sense does it?" he enquires.

" Nope, terrible metaphor." Sylvie says.

" Damn I thought I had something." he replies

Suddenly a door opens and a few guards walk in.

" That's him." an old man points at Loki.

" Sir, may I see your tickets?" the guards asks.

" Tickets! Yes of course!" he raises his hand, only for fireworks to blast out of them making you groan.

The guards take hold of Loki and Sylvie, not coming to you because they didn't see you.

Taking a glass bottle, you smash it over the head of the guard holding Sylvie, causing him to faint.

Loki kicks the knee of the guard holding him and pushes him away, elbowing the other in the head.

As everyone runs out, two more guards come in and start fighting.

With a blast of magic, you blast a guard out the window and Loki does the same, green and gold mixing together.

One of the guards start choking Sylvie and hold her against a wall.

Taking a dagger, Loki aims carefully, throws the dagger and ....misses, almost hitting Sylvie,

" What kind of a throw is that?" you said.

Sighing he turns to see another guard trying to fight him, " Oh will you stop it?" he says, kicking him out the window, " Bye!" he waves.

Sylvie manages to get out of the guard's grip and knock him out.

Suddenly two guards grab Loki and throw him out the window.

You and Sylvie look at each other, nod and she jumps out.

The guards them turn to you.

" Boys, you don't have to worry about me." you blast them with a burst of gold before jumping out.

~~

" So, the TemPad's gone?" you asked.

" Yes, all because of this hedonistic jerk-ass clown!" Sylvie shouts, starting to breath faster.

" Woah, Sylvie breathe, go to the side and take a breath, let all of it out."

Nodding she goes to the side, where she then screams so loudly, her magic blasts some rocks nearby. She then goes and sits down on a rock.

You and Loki look at each other before going to sit beside her, one on either side.

" Did the uh, scream make you feel better?" Loki asks.

"It did, you should try it sometime." she says sarcastically.

You can't help but recall at how Loki screamed when Frigga died.

" What now?" you ask

" I don't know, he broke the TemPad." she says

" Well-" Loki begins

" -and that planet is about to crash into us." she continues.

" Well yes but,-"

" But what?" she urges

" But the entire moon is destroyed, right?" he asks

" Yeah, and everyone on it is killed." she says

" Including us." he says.

" Including us." she finishes.

" Wait, what about the ark?" you ask.

" The ark is destroyed before it takes off." she answers

" Never had us on it." you say.

Scoffing, she says, " So what? We hijack the ark and make sure it gets off this moon?"

" Sounds like a good plan." Loki says

"Okay." Sylvie says getting up, leaving you and Loki looking at each other.

"I did not think that would work." you say.

" Well it did." he says getting up and walking after her.

~~

" Okay fine, you want to know how enchantment works." Sylvie says, " I have to make physical contact and grab hold of their mind."

" How?" Loki asks.

" It depends on the mind, most are easy and I can overtake instantly, others the stronger ones, it get's tricky, I'm in control, but they're there too. In order to preserve the connection, I have to create a fantasy from their memories, that young soldier from the TVA, her mind was messed up, everything clouded, I had to pull a memory from hundred's of years prior, before she even fought for them." Sylvie explains

" Wait, what?" you ask, " What'd you just say? Before she joined the TVA?"

" Yeah, she was just a regular person on Earth." Sylvie says.

" But, Mobius said that, everyone who works for the TVA were created by the timekeepers." Loki said.

" That's ridiculous, they're all variants, just like us, I don't know about Y/n though." Sylvie says.

" They don't know that!" you say,

'All ticketed passengers-"

" That's our ride." Sylvie says, all of you running towards the town.

__

" Do we trust each other?" Sylvie asks.

" Yes, and you can." Loki answers.

" Y/n?"

" Yes." you answer.

" Good, cause this is gonna suck." she says

The crowd is then filled with people who are trying to get on board.

" They're gonna let all these people die?" Loki says in horror.

" We're gonna have to get on there and make sure it takes off!" Sylvie says.

" How?" Loki asks.

" We go around!" she says, and you and Loki run towards her.

He holds her back and runs with her, and you feel it again.

NOT THE TIME TO BE FEELING JEALOUS

Taking a deep breath, you teleport to where they are, not wanting to lose them in the crowd.

The moment you reach them,  meteorite crashes into a building, making all of you fly backwards.

" Y/n?! Are you alright?" Loki asks.

" I'm fine." you say shortly, " Where's Sylvie?"

" Here." he says pulling her up and running inside a bar.

You run after them, to see a man pulling Sylvie's cloak off her and about to kick her back, when you grab him by his neck and pull him backwards, kneeing his back, making him fall and shout in pain.

Running out of the bar, all of you find a place behind a garbage dump, to take a breather, before running again.

You're almost there, when you see a building about to fall on all of you.

" I've got it!" Loki says, using his magic to make the building go back to where it was.

" Come on! We can still make it!" you say and run with Sylvie, Loki following.

You've just reached, when a meteorite crashes through the ark, destroying it.

All hope lost,  you turn back and walk out, Sylvie following.

Shit.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

A new kind of competition; RA on the Masked singer pt. 2

*Author’s note*

Okay I know I’m kinda doin this out of order but I was posting this part on Wattpad and since it was still in my copying memory I decided to post this part up first but no worries, pt. 1 will be posted up in just a minute. And I wanna tell you all that there will be only TWO MORE chapters left before I finally complete the Rock Angel series. Enjoy this chapter until next time my dears :)

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@geek-and-proud

@starswin

@queendeakyy

@5sos-wdw

@onebigfangirlworld

@isabella-bby

@labessieisallama

@ssa-sadboi

@naturalswifty89

@wormzteef

@bohemiansweede

_________________________________________________________

*Round 5. THE SUPER 8*

Now it was starting to get serious, this was now the Super 8 and this was the first time this season that 2 people were gonna get eliminated.  I took a deep breath and gave a silent prayer to God and Freddie above to give me strength.

“And here to give us yet another star-stellar performance and another few hints as to who this mega star could be under the mask. Here’s the Lioness.”

The LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE

“What very few people don’t know about me is that I didn’t always have that good of a homelife as a child.” I said as I walked through a child’s room.  I took hold of my stuffed lion and hugged him tightly as I continued, “The people who raised me were well—let’s just say they weren’t the nicest of people. The remainder of my childhood into adolescence was toxic for me.”

“Oh my god.” Nicole muttered sympathetically.

“Growing up with that much toxicity it really damaged my self-esteem. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t enough for them.”

“Growing up in an abusive home.” Robin noted. “Wonder if she’s an advocate for domestic abuse?”

“But I knew I couldn’t let myself be buried underneath all that hatred. It took a long, long, long, long time. But I forgave them. Because in a way without them, I wouldn’t have found this inner strength within me.”

“You go Lioness.” Cheered Jenny.

“That’s why for this performance, if you or a loved one is dealing with toxic family members or partners. There’s no shame in admitting they’re in the wrong. Because if you continue to listen to their toxic lies, it’ll only lead you down one way. And you’re too good to leave this world just yet.” I set the stuffed lion down and punched the wall which shattered as I let out a proud roar.

I stood there on stage with the mic on hand as my girl Pink’s “Beautiful trauma” came on and I began singing in a ballad like tone first.  Slowly walking across the stage till I came upon a beautifully decorated swing (much like the Black Swan used a couple rounds ago).

*Me*

We were on fire I slashed your tires It's like we burned so bright we burned out I made you chase me I wasn't that friendly My love, my drug, we burn out

Oh

I got on the swing and it slowly raised up, lifting me all the way high above the audience as I sang the 2nd chorus. As the mantra part of the chorus came up, silk extended from the ends of the swing and I slowly swung back and forth making the silks dance gracefully in the wind.  When the bridge came up, I turned on my semi-good rapping skills. As I rapped out the bridge, the swing lowered me down towards the catwalk that stood in front of the judges.

Once my feet touched the ground and I sung the last verse, I walked towards the judges and sung before each of them.  

*Me*

The pill I keep taking The nightmare I'm waking There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you My perfect rock bottom Beautiful trauma My love (my love), my love, my drug, oh

My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my love, my drug, oh My love, my love, my drug.

Mmm tough times they keep coming All night laughing and knackered Some days like I'm barely breathing Then after we were high and the love dope died, it was you

The pill I keep taking The nightmare I'm waking There's nothing, no nothing, nothing but you My perfect rock bottom My beautiful trauma My love, my love, my drug, oh

After walking back on stage with Nick standing at my side, he congratulated me on another amazing performance.  

“The Lioness is pulling our heartstrings once again.”

“I agree Nick. Especially after hearing that story of her going through domestic abuse that—that’s never an easy thing to go through. But Lioness let me just say you are a strong woman underneath. Because I can tell you’ve overcome that trauma and made a name for yourself.” Nicole told me.

I pounded my heart and raised my hand towards her.  She gave me a heart back.

“Now we raided through your fridge and found out just what exactly the Lioness loves to eat.”

“Oh come on Nick this is easy! She eats meat!” Ken exclaimed.

“Sit your butt down Ken!” Nick exclaimed. “Men in Black, bring out the Lioness’s favorite meal.” One of them came pulling out a cooler and sat it right beside Nick and he said. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got in here.” There was a drumroll before he opened it to reveal a thermos that read JASMINE TEA.

“What’s that say on the thermos?” asked Jenny.

“Jasmine tea.”

“But there’s no food there!” complained Ken.

“To answer your Question Kenneth.” I scolded. That got the rest of the panel as well as Nick laughing. “Any type of food is good for me, but it’s this tea that will give you a clue. As to who I am.”

The audience and Nick ooed.  Jenny’s mouth opened widely as she rapidly pounded her stack of notes.

“Jenny it looks like you’ve got something.”

“I do! I do! I do! I do! I do! Okay so in the clue package she talked about her abusive childhood. Rough upbringing, but she didn’t say parents were the ones doing it. And the number code that was given to us awhile back, that 149121. I have been running through my head various codes as to what that could mean. Until the TEA is what gave me the idea.”

“Who is it?!” Ken demanded.

“At least she’s making more sense than you do Ken!” Robin dissed.

“Okay the code actually stands for 11-24-91. And this Rockstar has a tattoo of it on her shoulder with Angel Wings to remember her friend and mentor Freddie Mercury. This is most definitely the ROCK ANGEL (Y/N) KLINE!!!”

“Oh yeah that’s right. She does have a tattoo with that date on it.” Robin agreed with her.

“Nah I’m gonna disagree with you on that Jenny.” Ken said.  Oh boy here we go. “Now going off based off the clue package we saw domestic abuse. And on the number code the first few numbers I picked out were 911.  This actress started in a movie known as “The Call”. Welcome to the Masked Singer Halle Berry!”

I shook my head and crossed my arms at him.

“Look at her she’s agreeing with me.”

“Ken this is not Halle Berry!” Nick Cannon said.  I then waved bye to Nick as I proceeded to walk off the stage but he told me to come back, so I had no choice but to stand there. “See Ken you made the Lioness upset just like you did with Nick Carter last season.”

“Hey like I said before then. This isn’t the first time someone’s walked away from my guesses, and it won’t be the last.”

“I think I might have an idea on who it might be.” Nicole piped in.

“Go head Nicole.”

“Okay so we saw the domestic abuse, growing up in an abusive home. But I also remember from a few weeks back there was a sign that said AIDS. So I’m thinking she’s also an advocate for AIDS/HIV awareness. I’m gonna put my money on Rihanna.”

Oh wow that’s impressive.  But sadly she’s wrong.  Although I have helped Rihanna with some of her AIDS awareness promotion when the two of us were at a party together for MTV.  She told me she wanted to start a campaign for it but had no idea where to begin with it.  So I gave her some of my well known contacts and gave her some business advice that I remember learning from Deacy on how to handle everything.

“That’s not a bad guess. But Rihanna’s got a different voice. But whoever you are, you wowed us once again Lioness.” I bowed and blew them a kiss as Nick told me that I could head backstage.

“The judges are slowly but surely getting a grip with my identity. But I’m not ready to go home just yet. And if I somehow make it through, I’ll give them a performance that’ll definitely throw them off my scent.”

Thankfully, I was safe from being unmasked in this double elimination, however Seashell and the Yeti weren’t as lucky.

*Round 6. THE SPICY 6*

It’s down to the wire now.  This song might just make me or break me, especially since it’s the hardest song I’ll ever do in my entire singing career.  But like Freddie and I always say, “It’s go big or go home darling.”  Plus this is another special performance that I’m dedicating to.

“Now then we actually got to sit down and actually talk with this Megastar. Here’s what we managed to find out about the Lioness.”

THE LIONESS CLUE PACKAGE AND INTERVIEW.

This clue package showed me getting my mask taken off but I still had a black face cover hiding my entire face.

“Oh yes that feels so much better.” I praised at feeling the cool air on my face.  The Producer then asked me.

“So how has it been being the Lioness so far?”

“A lot of fun. She’s given me the courage to do things I never thought I could do before.” The screens would show some of my previous performances from getting on a wrecking ball to being lifted well over 10ft above an audience.

“What would winning the Masked Singer mean for you?”

“Well I’m not just doing it for myself. But for my pride as well. Especially my dad.”

“You’re dad?” I nodded.  The screens would then show me walking around my den with a picture of me and a shadow figure of a male lion.

“Not related by blood but he’s been my father figure for as long as I’ve known him. In fact without his love, I never would’ve found true love on my own. My husband, my kids, even my grandkids. They wouldn’t have existed had he not given me the love that I was denied growing up.” I stroked the picture of the shadow figure of the lion beside me.  The screen also showed my real family with my husband lion, 4 adult kids and 2 young grandkid cubs.

I pressed the frame up to my mouth and gave it a kiss, the screen even made a kiss sound effect as little hearts danced around it.

“So Papa Lion, this song is for you. I love you so much and thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” I blew a kiss to the camera as my clue package and interview ended.

The ballad opening for “I don’t wanna miss a thing” by Aerosmith came on and I took a deep breath.  This was it, but you’re doing it for Roger here (n/n).  Even though he won’t know it, this song is for him. I opened my mouth and soon began singing.

Once the bridge came around and the most difficult part of the song came on, I unleashed every ounce of alto rawness I had within me and just belted out that last yeah which made fireworks rain down from the ceiling and the audience seemed to enjoy it.

*Me*

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing Watch you smile while you are sleeping While you're far away and dreaming

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender I could stay lost in this moment forever Cause moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Don't want to close my eyes I don't want to fall asleep 'Cause I'd miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

'Cause even when I dream of you The sweetest dream will never do I'd still miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

And I don't want to miss one smile I don't want to miss one kiss

And just stay here in this moment For all of the rest of time Yeah, yeah, yeah!

Don't want to close my eyes Don't want to fall asleep 'Cause I'd miss you, babe And I don't want to miss a thing

After finishing the song, fireworks came up behind me as I punched my fist into the air and panted from within my mask.

“Oh my god where did that come from!?” exclaimed Jenny.

“The lioness taking us to the far reaches of outer space with Armageddon!” Nick proclaimed as he came up beside me.

“I wanna say something first Lioness. That was probably your best performance ever.” Robin told me.  Oh my god seriously? I knew I had cracked up on that last ‘yeah’ but to hear him say this was my best performance surprised me. “You really laid it out on the line tonight with probably the hardest song but you executed it phenomenally.” He praised.

I bowed my hands in gesture to him telling him I wasn’t worthy.

“Alright now let’s see just who amongst our panel is the Lioness connected to.” The judges all looked up and soon my chute came down towards Ken but Nicole intercepted it from him and she said.

“Oh it’s for Jenny.” She passed it to Ken who passed it to Jenny and she saw the silver charm of a birthday cake.

“A birthday cake.” She told the crowd as she held the charm between her fingers.

“Jenny. I wanna thank your husband for performing at one of my kid’s birthday party.” At that the crowd got all suspicious and Jenny’s face was gaped wide in shock.

“Is Donny doing things behind your back?” Nicole accused Jenny.

“I hope not.” God these innuendos kill me. “Okay so apparently you know my husband Donny. But I-I don’t remember him ever telling me he performed at a kid’s birthday party.”

“What about the entire New Kids on the Block?” asked Robin.

“Possibly. Was it just my husband or the entire band that performed at your kid’s party?”

“You know she can’t answer that!” Nick snapped playfully.

“I’m sorry but I gotta know!”

“Alright panel. What’s this clue package doin for you?”

“Okay well in the clue package there was the picture of her family. I saw four grown kids and 2 grandkids. If she really is a grandma then I still gotta go with Rock Angel. Because her daughter Kelly just recently gave birth to a baby girl last year during the pandemic doing an at home birth.” Nicole said.

“Yeah and in the clue package she spoke about a father figure. And I read somewhere that she considers Roger Taylor from Queen her dad.”

“Okay, okay panel.” Damn they are starting to see it now.  But I hope this performance keeps me in the game.  “Well, all we know is was that was yet another killer performance. Make some noise for the Lioness. Go ahead and head on backstage.”

The judges really are seeming to close in on me. I really don’t wanna go home at this point but if I do then it is what it is.  I still had a lot of fun doing this show and it was an amazing ride.

But at the votes, I was surprised to see that it wasn’t me that was going home.  But the Russian Dolls, after doing Elton John’s song “I’m still standing”. I thought they did a hell of a lot better than me but I guess it’s not always the voices that count, but how you execute the performance.

Now it was onto the Semi-finals.

*SEMI-FINALS*

I’ve come too far to end this journey now. The Semi-finals is the last step to ensure that I can secure my spot in the finals.  And I have just the song to get me there.

“Week after week she has astounded us with pure, unadulterated vocals. But can she claim her spot for the finals. Let’s dig up some more clues on……the Lioness.”

THE LIONESS; CLUE PACKAGE:

“Being in this competition has taught me a lot about myself. On one side there’s the Lioness I present before the media, when I preform or out in the public. Then there’s the Lioness I am around my pride. A mother, a daughter, a grandmother. And I think that’s really the best job compared to my career.”

“She’s definitely a family woman.” Jenny stated as she took down some notes.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere without my family. They are my rock. Even those that had left me I still see them throughout my life.” I stood before a funhouse mirror maze and saw various shadows surrounding me. “And it’s their voices that give me the courage to continue the fight. So for this performance I’m gonna pull out all the stops and just allow you all to see the real me. Nothing but my raw vocals. I’ve fought to hard and I’m just not ready to go home yet.”

The stage screens were lit up with a rain animation as well as rippling water.  I stood there alone with the mic and the spotlight down on me as I sung the song that was once offered to me for the Original movie, but I recommended the Producers to Christina to do the song.

As the song grew more fiercer with the soft drumbeats and my voice became more powerful and intense, I could feel tears filling my eyes once more.  I was gonna get to the finals even if it costs me my voice.

*Me*

Look at me You may think you see Who I really am But you'll never know me Every day It's as if I play a part

Now I see If I wear a mask I can fool the world But I cannot fool my heart

Who is that girl I see

Staring straight back at me?

Why is my reflection

Someone I don’t know?

There's a heart that must be free to fly That burns with a need to know the reason why

Why must we all conceal What we think, and how we feel?

I won't pretend that I'm Someone else for all time When will my reflection show Who I am inside? When will my reflection show Who I am inside?

At that last belt which I held longer than I ever held a note before.  A 9 full seconds which made the crowd go berserk.  I could see some people wiping their tears away as I sung the last couple of notes before finally ending it with a bow of my head.

“Heartfelt! Lioness once again pulling our heartstrings.”

“Okay I just need to say this Nick.” Ken said.

“Go ahead Kenneth.”

“Throughout this entire competition especially when it comes to the Semi-finals, it all comes down to who wants it most. And Lioness—” he wiped his tears away. “You didn’t just show us that you wanted a spot in the finals. You proved you’re worthy of the Rock Gods!”

Aww Dr. Ken.  I blew him a kiss and patted my heart and he blew me multiple kisses back.

“For once I agree with Ken.” Robin said.  “If people didn’t get teary eyed when you performed Whitney Houston’s hit song, they’re definitely not dry eyed by now.” The 2 women nodded in agreement.

“I agree with the guys. I grew up listening to this song. And to hear your voice do this song, not only did you just sing it. You felt it. And when a singer feels a song, it makes it that much more powerful.” Nicole added.  I nodded and replied to her.

“Agreed Nicole. This song……it really spoke out to me when I first heard it. And…..during a really, really rough time in my life. It—got me through so much.” I spoke through my choked tears. Knowing the judges could sense that I was crying underneath the mask, they all awed at me as Nick rubbed my back.

“Lioness even getting emotional up here. Panel, any guesses as to who she might be?”

“All I can say and have been saying is that this is a true, professional performer. And just that belt alone showed us what you’ve got. A true fire within you. Now I know that I’ve said the Rock Angel a couple of rounds but just this week alone hearing the voice, I wanna say this is Christina Aguilera.” Jenny said.

“But wouldn’t it be risky for her to do her own song?” Robin asked.

“She could’ve disguised her tone in order to sing it. But that recognizable control of the belt has to be her.” Jenny reasoned with him.

“I don’t think so Jenny. Cause in the clue package she says she’s a grandmother and Christina ain’t no grandmother yet. I’m still gonna say this is the Rock Angel.” Nicole said.

“Alright well, another heartfelt performance. Give it up one last time for the Lioness.” I waved to the audience and blew kisses at them before exiting the stage.

By the end of the round (and finding out the identity of the infamous Cluedle-Doo being none other than Jenny’s husband Donnie Wahlberg) it was time to see just who was gonna get eliminated and find out who was going into the finals.  I stood there with my hands in a prayer as I mouthed out a prayer before Nick finally said the contestant going home.

“The Black Swan!” oh no!  She’s actually been my favorite singer in our group.  Hell she and I were the only ladies representing Group B and now it was up to me.  “So congrats to the Piglet, Chameleon and Lioness, we will see you three in the finals.” I walked up towards Black Swan and gave her a hug and she hugged me back. “Aww look at that, Lioness giving Black Swan a hug. Seems we’ve got a friendship up here.”

I patted the side of her face before bopping her beak and finally left behind Chameleon.  Well it was up to me now, could I secure another female winner for the Masked Singer? Or be runner up? Only fate and the superfans will determine that.

*?????? POV*

I was reading the paper as per my morning routine.  Nothing new except this whole COVID talk and false expectations on the vaccine delivery. The world really has gone to shit hasn’t it these past few years?  That’s when I got a ding on my phone from my daughter Laura.  I unlocked it and read her text with a link to a video.

Dad, is this who I think it is?

Video: MASKED SINGER THE LIONESS

I think I might’ve heard of this show. Yeah it started off in America and after it’s popularity, various of other countries began it.  Here in the UK we just completed season 2, so this must be the American version.  I’ll admit the costume on the thumbnail looked beautiful and the detail was astounding.

I clicked on the video and it read THE MASKED SINGER S.5 SEMI-FINALS LIONESS.

The lights were dimmed and the second she opened her mouth to sing, my heart skipped a beat and I went frozen in my chair. Quick as I could I turned on our smart TV and opened up the YOUTUBE app on the TV and impatiently waited for it to open up.

“My love?” Veronica’s voice spoke as she came down.

“I’m fine dear!” I told her as the app finally uploaded.  I went over to the mic icon and pressed down on it and spoke into the remote. “The Lioness Masked singer.”

Soon enough various videos popped up and soon the video that Laura sent me was the first option.  I clicked on it and of course bloody ads had to come up. “Oh for god’s sake!”  I sat down on my chair as the video finally played and I could hear the rest of the song.

“Reflection” by Christina Aguilera.  This version was the recently updated one for the live action remake but just hearing this voice alone I knew only one person who could sing like that.

It had been decades since we last saw one another, shortly after 9-11 to be exact.  But even though I’m no longer involved with the music business anymore, I’d always ask Brian or Rog to keep an eye on her and tell me everything about her.

And now seeing her perform as this Lioness creature for such a show, they didn’t know just how lucky they were to be in her presence.  As the song got more powerful, I could feel these old bones of mine feeling warm and secure, tears filled my eyes and at that last belt, goosebumps came all over my body and a shiver ran up my spine.

There was a slight tremble in her voice as she ended the song.  I knew it was because she was crying underneath that mask but as always she holds out strong and finished the song as beautiful as ever.

The audience roared with applause bringing back some memories of when she went on tour with us.  Only her and one other person could get a crowd to sound just like that.

“She’s gotten stronger with her vocals.” My wife’s voice spoke from behind me.

“She was taught by the best. And she now coaches the best.” Ronnie took her place by my side, placing her hand on top of mine.

“You really should give her a ring sometime. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.” I turned away from her.  “You can’t have the boys and me be your messengers forever. I know for a fact she’d be happy to hear your voice again.” I sighed deeply. “At least think about it my love.”

“I will.” I placed my hand on top of hers and gave her a light peck on the cheek.

“Are there any more performances of her on this show? Luke says she’s been all over the media being the Lioness.”

“Well that was the Semi-finals performance, let’s see if someone collab all of her performances together.” I went back to the search box and soon found about a half hours’ worth of (Y/n)’s performances. I clicked play and soon her 1st performance came up.

Seeing her dance reminded me of our times on the dance floor back in the day.  She was the only person able to keep up with my crazy dance moves, and that’s why she was always the perfect dance partner.  Even Ronnie agreed to that statement.

“That girl never changes. She’s still got it even after all these years.” Ronnie smiled.

“That she does love, that she does.” God she has grown so much since the last time we parted.  Her voice much more mature and able to do things she never did before. And some of the stuff that she’s doing on this show is bonkers.

Never did I think I’d see her on a makeshift wrecking ball or be lifted high above the stage on a swing with silk ropes dangling down from it.

I hope she takes the gold and win this little show of hers because she rightfully deserves it.

*FINALE*

It is time.  Do or die now.  It was me vs. Piglet vs. Chameleon.  After performing a beautiful, angelic performance with last season’s winner LeAnn Rimes, the finals were finally ready to start.

After a couple months of going from 14 down to 3, it all came down to this moment right here, to determine who was gonna be this season’s Masked Singer champion.  Chameleon went first and then I was going to be next.  Chameleon had stuck to his rapping but I could hear more singing out of him this time around and he actually had a pretty good voice.

“Up next. She’s been putting us through a roller coaster of emotions. From hard rock to ballad. Here is the last performance and your last chance to guess at who is beneath, the Lioness.”

FINAL CLUE PACKAGE.

I was walking through a tunnel slowly.  One foot in front of the other.

“Being on the Masked Singer has really been a lot of fun. When I first came on here, never did I think I was gonna make it this far.” The screen would show highlights of all my previous performances along with some additional clues.

Like a familiar band logo at the corner and season 3’s champion Night Angel’s wings. And the year 1981.

“This song was written by a very dear friend of mine. A friend that was taken from us far too soon. But it’s through this song that win or lose, I’ll always take with me till the day I die. Because no matter what, we will always make it through the tough times, especially with what we’re going through now with the Pandemic.”

The stage was dark except for a few lights as the familiar tune of Freddie’s last song he ever performed in the studio came on. I was having brief flashbacks of that day in the studio seeing him record this very song but I had to get my mind right as I sung the first verse.

Once the chorus kicked in, fire exploded from behind the stage as my rock and roll band came back on once more.  The stage was mine to command one last time as I walked across it for the chorus, giving it my all, just like Freddie did.

By the time the bridge came on, my voice was starting to tremble but I kept my emotions under control till the end of the song.  When I got around towards the end of the song, I would hold out a few of the notes till I finally belted out the last note much like Freddie did on the record.

And I swear it was like I could hear him singing alongside me, guiding me to hold the note out longer.

*Me*

Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on Does anybody know what we are looking for? Another hero, another mindless crime Behind the curtain, in the pantomime Hold the line Does anybody want to take it anymore?

The show must go on The show must go on, yeah Inside my heart is breaking My makeup may be flaking But my smile, still, stays on

My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies Fairy tales of yesterday, grow but never die I can fly, my friends

The show must go on

Yeah, yeah! The show must go on

Oh yeah! Yeah! I'll face it with a grin I'm never giving in On with the show

I'll top the bill I'll overkill I have to find the will to carry on. On with the show. Show. The show must go on.

As the song ended, fireworks fell down from the roof and fire and smoke exploded from the side of the stage as I panted heavily with my arms extended outward.  With the last struck of the drums and guitar, I punched my fist into the air.

I sent a quick kiss to the Heavens as the audience went insane.  I saw all five judges on their feet applauding me.

“The Rock and roll Lioness showin us that the Show must always go on.” Nick praised.

“I swear each and every performance you do, it just gets better and better! You could just be this season’s winner.” Jenny told me.  I clenched my hands and did a victory gesture with them, I could only hope I’d win but it’s not up to me.

“I would agree. She just keeps escalating and escalating her performances and I’m just in awe whether it’s her rocking out or pulling our heartstrings with her raw voice.” Nicole said.  Even last year’s winner LeAnne said.

“Hearing this voice alone makes me feel like I’m looking at a champion singer here.” I placed my hand over my heart in thanks.

The judges then proceeded to do some more guesses, Robin and Nicole were saying that I was the Rock Angel while Jenny was saying that I could be Christina Aguilera and of course Dr. Ken (out of the blue) decided that I was Beyonce.

“So tell us Lioness, what would it mean to you to win this competition?” Nick asked me.

“Well Nick, winning would mean that I’ve given my fans a whole new side of me that they’ve never seen before. But even if I don’t win, I still had a blast being here.”

“We were happy to have you here. Give it up one more time for the Lioness everybody!” I waved to the audience and walked backstage.

“This whole experience has been a wild ride. But I had a lot of fun, win or lose.” I told the camera with the Men in Black behind me.

The Piglet then did his song, “Faithfully” by Journey and man did he kill it.  He definitely pulled my heartstrings with that performance.  So it could be a close race between him and I, or there could be a game changer and Chameleon could take the trophy as the first rapper to sing solely Rap/Hip-hop songs.

“Tonight was a star-worthy performance, but as we know only one can take home the Masked Singer trophy. Now it’s up to our judges and Superfans at home to vote for your favorite now.” I stood between Chameleon and Piglet with my hands together in a prayer.  “The votes are in. The contestant with the least amount of votes and in 3rd place is…….”

There was suspense in the air as I felt my foot shake just waiting for Nick to say which one of us got in 3rd place according to the votes of the judges as well as America.

“The Chameleon!” the audience gaped in shock. “That means Piglet and Lioness you both are safe and can head backstage before we call you both back out to crown a winner. Let’s make some noise for the Chameleon everybody!” I walked up to the Chameleon and extended my hand and we shook hands before I walked with Piglet at my tail as we both waited backstage.

About 10 minutes later, we were told to come back onto the stage to finally crown a winner of Season 5 of the Masked Singer. Piglet and I stood on opposite sides of Nick as he held in his hand, the envelope with the Winner’s name.

“Welcome back to the Masked Singer.  It is now time to crown our new Season’s champion. Piglet, or Lioness. Which one of you will be taking the golden masked trophy home? The votes are in by the judges and the super fans. And the winner is……..” I could see Piglet’s legs shaking as he has made them every time throughout this entire season, while I was rubbing my hands together nervously.

Nick opened the envelope before proclaiming into his microphone.

“THE PIGLET!!” confetti soon exploded covering both me and Piglet up with strings of blue and silver confetti.  Piglet stood there shocked while I clapped for him. He deserved the win, he did a great performance and a great song to close out this season with.  He took the golden mask trophy and danced with it as Nick said.  “Congrats again Piglet you are this season’s champion. Which means you can stand over there in the championship booth till it’s time to unmask you.”

Before Piglet left, I walked up to him and patted his shoulder before giving him a hug and he hugged me back.

“Aww Lioness is being all cuddly with our contestants here.” Piglet and I shook hands with each other for a good competition while I went back to my spot to be unmasked once and for all.  “Lioness you’ve wowed us week after week and as sad as we are to see you go, I think I speak for everybody here, we cannot wait to see who you are!”

The judges all agreed as well as the audience.

“But first, let’s bring out the first Impression guesses. Men in Black! Bring ‘em out!” I could already see the judges pleading for them to not to.  “Yeah it’s been like—months since you guys wrote these down.”

“Can we please not do this Nick?” pleaded Jenny.

“Too late. And the first guess is from…..Nicole.”

“Oh god.”

“You guessed……Christina Aguilera. Not a bad guess.”

“Yeah that really isn’t a bad guess. However I’m not gonna stick with that. Based off the clue package of LGBTQ, and growing up in a domestic abusive home, plus the recent clue package with the symbol of the band Queen’s logo and the Rock n Roll hall of fame right beside that. I’m gonna go with the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s see who else we’ve got here……Robin!”

“Oh no.”

“You guessed……Pink.”

“Oh that’s not too bad.” He shrugged.

“You stickin with it?”

“I am not gonna stick with that. Like Nicole I did see the Queen logo in this week’s clue package and just going off by the voice alone. I re-listened to some old records and this is clearly the Rock Angel herself.”

“Alright 2 votes for the Rock Angel. Mrs. Jenny McCarthy.” Jenny sunk down in her chair as Nick grabbed her envelope and opened it up. “Your first impression of the Lioness was……also Pink.”

“Oh thank god I thought I had pulled a Ken guess.” She wiped her hand across her forehead as Ken exclaimed.

“Hey!”

“Ken sit down! Are you sticking with that guess.”

“No. The number code we were give, the 149121. Which I’ve coded as her tattoo for the date of Nov. 24th, 1991, the date when Freddie Mercury sadly passed away from complications from AIDS. And seeing how she talks about her family, her kids, her papa Lion. I’m going for (Y/n) Kline the Rock Angel!”

“Alright, alright, alright. Dr. Ken……” oh this outta be interesting to see who he thought I was at the first performance.  He opened Ken’s envelope and laughed.

“What? What did he write!?”

“Janet Jackson!” oh my god! That even got me weak in my knees as I laughed.

“With those dance moves I thought it could be her! No one could’ve done that dance better than she could! DON’T LAUGH AT ME!!”

“Are you sticking with that guess?”

“No because the clue package doesn’t support it. Okay so we’ve had LGBTQ, domestic abuse. She’s a family woman with 4 kids and apparently 2 grandkids. Although I think the grandkids is a lie. She went through some tough times throughout her personal life. This is none other than Lady Gaga! Welcome to the Masked Singer!”

“What?!” Nicole exclaimed.  “But she’s not a mom!”

“Well then she could be lying about the kids then too all I know is that the rest of my brilliant theories lead to Lady gaga!” I shook my head and placed my hands over my mask shaking my head in defeat. “See! She’s even admitting I’m right!”

“No she’s not she’s just done with how ridiculous your guess is.” Nick said.

“Well I don’t care. This is Lady Gaga and I’ll take it to my grave!”

“Alright. Ms. LeAnne. As our guest panelist you have the last say in who you think this might be.”

“First of all let me just say you are a super star whoever you are under there. If we had competed against each other last year, I would’ve been quaking in my boots.” We all laughed. “This is truly a rock legend under here with the few rare female rockstars that came with the time. And I actually got the privilege to see her perform with the band Queen one year for a birthday party. And there’s only one person that I’ve seen on stage that can sing with as much fire as you Lioness. And that is the Rock Angel herself.”

“Okay Panel. Everyone except for Ken Jong has agreed on their final guesses. Lioness! It is time for the moment we’ve all been waiting for. We wanna know—whose behind the mask. It is time for you to Take it off!”

“Take it off! Take it off! Take it off! Take it off!” everyone soon started chanting.  I held my arms out in a shrug before shrugging my shoulders and finally reaching for my mask and tried to lift it off.  Nick was helping me as the audience and the judges kept chanting.  I could tell I was keeping them in suspense, just wait until they see it’s really me.

Finally the mask came off.

I shook my head and pulled my hair out of my face and the crowd went nuts, the judges all jumped up and cheered.

“THE ANGEL OF ROCK HERSELF! ROCK AND ROLL HALL OF FAMER! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THE ONE AND ONLY (Y/N) KLINE!! THE ROCK ANGEL!!!”

“OH MY GOD!!” I heard some of the judges exclaim.

“Look how beautiful she is!” Nicole praised me. I waved to the audience and gave them a “Freddie Mercury” like bow with a twirl of my hand.

“Hello LA!” I said.

“Angel! Angel! Angel! Angel!” I heard the crowd chanting out.

“Wow it is such an honor and a privilege to be standing here next to a true Rockstar.”

“It’s an honor to be here Nick. Thank you all for having me here.” I told him.

“Tell us why did you choose to be in this show?”

“I know this answer gets told a lot but for me personally I speak from the hard truth that we should all strive to do different things cause—you never know which days are gonna be your last.” I hinted my potential death scare almost 20 years ago.  The judges all nodded in understandment.

“And I’m told that you also wanted to say something about this performance in particular?”

“Yes. The song I had done wasn’t originally my choice.” The audience as well as the judges all looked at me in surprise. “Originally the Producers wanted me to do a Katy Perry song, but……this coming November will mark the 30th anniversary of the day my boys and I lost our beloved Freddie. And…….being there the day he recorded this song in only one take. I felt in my soul that I had to do this for him. To give him a grand performance because due to this covid Queen and I aren’t touring till we feel it’s safe to start touring again, like many artists are. So I really wanted to honor Freddie with a performance that I hope did him proud.”

“Well you did just that.” Jenny told me.

“Thank you. And I’m glad you managed to catch that Jenny, you truly are the Masked Singer detective.” She pointed out to me and that’s when last season’s winner LeAnne said.

“I grew up listening, to both you and Queen. And—I can say for a fact that you definitely did Freddie Mercury proud. And it’s good that you and the remaining members of Queen continue his legacy. Sure it’s not the same as it was before but you don’t refer to him just in the past. But in the present.”

“Thank you LeAnne dear.” I thanked her as I blew her a quick kiss.

“I just gotta say (Y/n). You absolutely crushed the choreography with Janet’s song for your first performance as well as your wrecking ball routine. I think those were my favorite performances of yours, will we expect any of that once you start your solo tours back up?” Nicole asked me.  I laughed along with the audience.

“You never know.”

“Well it has truly been an honor to have you on our show. Now then ladies and gentlemen, to sing for us one last time give it up. For the artist formerly known as the Lioness, the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline!” the audience applauded and I sung “The Show must go on” one final time for the audience.  Putting my heart and soul into the lyrics before finally belting out that last note in a different key before punching my fist into the air and sending a kiss towards the heavens for Freddie.

After the show all ended and a few days passed by, I did a livestream on my Instagram as well as my Youtube page telling my fans that I was indeed the Lioness and just talking about my experience on the show. Of course Bri, Rog and Adam blew up my phone with calls/texts/DM’s (mostly Adam. Bri and Rog still don’t quite get DM’s) telling me why I lied and did that show in the first place.

I gave them my straight answer that I wanted to have a bit of fun and do some type of performance and show the audience a whole new side of me when it came to performing.

I was just about to go to bed after bidding Georgie goodnight (he had to work a late nightshift tonight) when my phone rang. I picked it up to see it was an unknown number from London.  Curiously, I pressed the answer button and said.

“Hello?”

‘Sister dear.’ My heart stopped and I sat down on the bed.

“Brother mine?” I choked out.

‘Hey love. It’s uhh—been awhile, hadn’t it?’

“Try 20 years yah rotter.” I teased as we both softly chuckled. “What—how…..”

‘Laura sent me a video of you on the Masked Singer. The American one. You were beautiful up there.’ I placed my hand over my heart. ‘Although I do wish you had won. That—boy band person couldn’t hold a candle to you.’

“Oi now, Nick Lachey did just as well as I did.” I softly lectured him.

‘Well I still feel like you should’ve won.’ I smiled solemnly.

“Was it just because of the Masked Singer that you wanted to call me?”

‘That and…..’ he trailed off.  I lay against my bed and softly spoke to him.

“Deacy?”

‘I…….’ he sighed heavily. ‘I know I haven’t been the best at keeping contact.’

“John.” For the first time since……probably back when I was an intern for Miami all the way back in the autumn of 1980, I called him by his first name (unless I referred to him him by his full name did I call him John, most of the time it was Deacy).  “I get it. Plus my schedule has been quite hectic. And you—you’ve been busy yourself. After all Queen would’ve fallen decades ago without your financial brain.” We both shared another laugh.

From then one we talked pretty much the entire night up until it was almost 6am my time before we finally said our goodbyes. It was sweet to hear from him once again after so long.  Now whether or not I’ll ever hear from him again, I don’t know.

But at least I know my Brother Mine is still keeping his eye out for me, in one way or another.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Rakshasa Girlfriend: Zarita 2

Part 1

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Female monster x female reader (OC)

The Lioness of Maetrine Part 2

“My little Queen,” Zarita’s voice was deadly soothing, brushing your hair out of your face with a free paw. “Oh, how much I have missed you.”

“Zarita.” Your voice was steadily cool, ignoring how your heart jumped a step ahead of you when you felt the blade press into your throat. “Would I need to question how you escaped?”

“Your guards are slow and old, I’m afraid. Whilst they were distracted by the onslaught of my group, they were too busy up top, not below in the cells, watching,” she gave a low chuckle, melodically raspy. “It was easy to slip past.”

“Yet despite these odds, you have not killed me yet,” you murmured. “Or have I mistaken this all?”

“My friends have raised their defences, the siege on your little capital has already begun.” She pulled you taut to her chest. “They have only asked of one thing.”

You snorted, “For my head?”

“No, though they may find that suitable to end this skirmish,” she chuckled. “They ask for you and only you, my little Queen, alive and unharmed.” There was a feeling of pulling you close to her chest, your back pressed up, keeping you from lashing if the threats got worse. “I will not let them get to you.”

You squirmed in her grip, wary of how the sword pressed into your throat further, “I beg to differ.”

“You think I am not an honest one? I am hurt, Your Grace,” Zarita purred low against your ear. “My countrymen aren’t so loyal, you see. They can change their minds like the flip of a coin. So vile and dishonest. They will tell you they keep your safety whilst backstabbing you in a bed you think will protect you.”

The blade at my throat tells me otherwise. “You’re telling me you are attempting to drive me away from your people just so you can save me? In a highly fortified castle, my guards are out defending for these walls to remain high, but you think you can whisk me away without a soul noticing?”

“I am more than quick, little Queen. I can always knock you out, easy to travel,” you whimpered at the suggestion before she added. “With the right remedy, of course.”

“What will you do with me?” You questioned. “Since you wish to keep me away from both our people?”

There was a pause, the heavy toll of the bells that rung mournfully for your capital, the sound of cannons and swords clashing, the fear that your countrymen were dying trying to protect you, not knowing you were easy to reach. “I can be of some help, perhaps if you will allow me,” Zarita compromised. “Perhaps even a personal knight.”

The laugh that came from your parted lips was unexpected and startled both of you, promptly continuing with what you had thought, regardless of what your situation was. “That is like having the jewel thief be head of protecting the crown jewels. Do you think your proposition will be allowed for your attempt of assassinating me? Or so… how will your proposal go for the people of my council?”

“Rats,” Zarita hissed smoothly. “Men are rats and born to fester, to plague your lands. Like your old father, he was blind to be guided by fools and he will lead his own daughter to be driven to chaos by foolish men too.”

Your father had registered the best of men from around Ereon to help lead you to the best of wisdom. All ranging with many skills, the only issue you found was that they had been around your father’s age or even older, putting ahead what were old beliefs and acts that would please the people and lands regardless if you thought otherwise. New things needed to cut the old out, you always thought… but something like this seemed preposterous.

You smiled automatically, choosing the right words as the grip of the blade loosened further, “What are you trying to say, Zarita?”

The Rakshasa purred right into your ear, sending the shudders of what you couldn’t help but feel were of delight when she replied, “Who wants to listen to an old fool of a man when you can listen to another woman?”

She wasn’t wrong with this, but why did you so badly want to agree? A clawed hand came to wipe back a fallen strand of your hair, gentle and soothing. “You have a good way with words, Zarita,” you began. “But what else can you provide?”

“Someone who knows these lands best, from those who speak wrong of you and allying spies for your power,” she whispered lowly. “Or I can be a shoulder for you to cry on, a friend… someone to keep your bed warm when you’re lonely and cold.”

Your cheeks flushed, but she continued. “I can be a great help for many things, My Queen, so long as you have me.”

“If I say yes, what would you do with me as soon as you release me?”

“Perhaps we can celebrate,” her laughter rumbled through your chest. “Wine and cheese, or even chat whilst the men continue their fighting.”

“We can dine when this siege is over,” you corrected. “For now, I know of a place you can lead me to, one far from the eyes of both our men.”

Zarita purred excitedly, kneading her head against the back of your neck, “I’m listening.”

-

The twists and turns of the endless dark hallways were how you remembered them to be: when you had been ten and wandered through below whilst trying not to be caught by guards on their nightly duties. It was an easy escape when you had one built into the foundations of your room some couple of centuries ago.

The matted fur of Zarita caught little of her shadow or movements as she moved in front of you, leading the way with the small torch provided, indeed, it was certain she moved along the shadows with her dark attire and pelt blending seamlessly.

“You say this will lead us to the sanctum?” Her voice echoed through the narrow walls, the soft timbre to lure you out of your running thoughts. “The sanctum has been the safest part of the Keep, holding the fortifications and secret tunnels to lead to the shores.” You announced coolly, wracking your nerves against your tense fists. “I’ve seen it myself.”

The Rakshasa chuffed, “You know of war?”

“I’ve known of sieges, but not ones that lasted so long into the night,” you replied. “With sieges like these, it took days before I could finally rest, not from hearing the bells ringing for our doom. But my aunt’s army has been quick to come, thanks to the forces surrounding the Stormholme Keep.”

“Ah, the Moors,” Zarita hummed. “They are just as preoccupied in banishing my kind away. A couple of thousand years ago, when the first iron giants fell after helping to build the keep, the distant relative, an iron lord, decided in his best interest to control the population of Rakshasas.”

You felt a build of uncomfortableness build in your stomach, unsettling your nerves further, “Lady Ryllae never taught me of this history.”

“No-one really does, it’s kept secret,” Zarita hissed through her pointed teeth. “They like to keep the history of some out from humans so it looks like your race are the only ones suffering.”

The end of the hallway grew lighter and lighter with little light being cast through the crack of the wall. You moved in front of her, pushing past the bookshelf as silence fell between the two of you. “Zarita… I never knew-”

“That is fine, little Queen,” she responded dejectedly, but the whiteness of her teeth shone through. “You were not even needed to be told. Your old father made sure to keep it out of your history lessons, and to make sure no child born would know.”

It boiled your blood all the same from hearing of these tails of the past. The tenderness of your hand came to rest on her shoulder, feeling through the iron of her doublet made you question how she retrieved it. “I apologise on behalf of my ancestors who came before me. No more, when this is over, people will know of what happened, of the blood that was spilt and how no soul has been at peace since.”

“You needn’t be so kind, little Queen.” Zarita made the move to come in closer to you, the rumbling in her throat brought further shivers through you. So up close you could see that her eyes were not only a lovely chestnut hue but were flecked with gold.

The secret door was opened with a loud groan as the two of you stepped through into the large room. Glass candles surrounded the room with its high frames and columns that reached the sky, fake windows that always seemed to be open constantly were framed with hues of blues and greens, giving the ceiling a beautiful contrast to what would’ve been happening outside.

In the middle of the large room, sat the statue of the Matron Mother statue, a hooded figure knelt praying silently, almost in a state of oblivion when they turned to face the two of you. Quick as a fox, the figure had stood, slashing open the bronze of their sword as a threat to not you, the person behind, but you caught a glance of the silver in their hair.

You stepped forth cautiously, “Aunt Ryllae?”

“You’re not harmed?” The Lady of the Moors was quick to run to you, enveloping you in her arms and kissing your brow. “Gods be merciful, Hell surrounds us, sweet Caecia.”

“Will we ever see the end of this turmoil? I will not allow the Maetrine Keep to fall.” You admitted with dignity still strong in your heart. “Yes, my little cub. It will, however,” Lady Ryllae turned her gaze to the Rakshasa standing close to your side. “We must discuss… these matters. Your assassin is free.” 

“She is,” you sighed. “But, although questioning how she escaped can be a matter of discussion with my guards, my concern lies with how we will flee in this predicament.” The Rakshasa had a deadly gaze sent on your aunt, glaring with her ears bent back and flat against her head, eyes narrowed into slits. “I have been told of my utmost safety from her.”

“Oh, I can see for certain,” Lady Ryllae didn’t budge. “You would make her a knight then? Personal to you?” You exhaled deeply, turning to glance at her from your side. From her, Zarita was calm and steady as a river, growing low and soft in the back of her throat, her side brushing against yours. You felt protected already somehow. “Indeed. That was the deal we signed. My safety for her loyalty to be sworn as my knight.”

“Very well,” your aunt seemed wary as she pointed her gaze to Zarita. “Though know this, turncoat, if you dare lay a hand on your Queen and I hear word, I will hunt you to the ends of Ereon.

“Of course, Lady of the Moors.” Zarita coolly responded.

The Protector of the Stormholme Keep turned her gaze back to you, the tired smile replacing her features, worn from battle and skirmishes. My Queen, perhaps our place, for now, is here. You should rest, you must be worn.”

“As for you, Aunt Ryllae. Try and rest up as much as you can… All of us.”

The silver-haired lady nodded and bowed, not looking back on Zarita and she took her place back in front of the statue, continuing to pray as if she had been disturbed. “She prays a lot, doesn’t she?” Zarita noted not so softly in your ear.

“She prays because she worries about our fate.” You replied, going over to sit by the bookshelves, sitting down with Zarita not far to copy you. “Do you not pray?”

“I stopped a long time ago,” she was absent in space, drawling. “I suppose I lost many things that I forgot how to pray.”

“That is fair,” you slowly began gracelessly, turning to try and get comfortable, Zarita taking notice. “You are not comfortable, are you, Little Queen?” It took a small laugh to bubble over from your dried lips, glancing back to her. “You took notice?”

The Rakshasa put down her weapon to the side of her, opening her arms with a smoothness to her words, “Come here, I can warm you.” You didn’t object even when remembering too late that she had been rotting in an iron cell for who knew how long, crawling into her arms, resting your head into the crook of her shoulder and neck, surprised by how warm she had been with little on. Her fur was matted and short, but was fuzzy and soft against the flesh of your cheek, making your squirm momentarily. Zarita chuckled, not daring to move as she cradled you like a babe, a soft purr coming from her chest that reverberated through her into you. “Better?”

“Much, thank you.” You mumbled against her, trying to keep your eyes shut, ignoring how your heart stammered in your chest, hoping you couldn’t hear. Hers was steady and strong, pulling you to listen to it and only it, whilst the sounds of war continued outside.

When she believed you were sleeping from the lack of movement, Zarita glanced back to see whether any eyes were on her, before kneading her head into yours, nuzzling the side of your head and happy to feel you nuzzle back.

“Sleep well, my little Queen.”

[narrators-journal]

The most dangerous game

I know I’ve been hella dead, but I return with my usual! Stano smut! I dunno why I adore writing these two so much, but I guess I’m attached, so yeah. Ya’ll get content.

CW: Predator/prey vibes, Xeno gets chased but there’s no real big acknowledgement of it.

It was likely because Xeno had developed a persistently wonky sleep schedule that he got so many night time jobs. That, he supposed, was why he was once again out at night hunting another Vampire, despite having told his boss of his run-in with a particularly pretty vampire. However, at the moment, Xeno somewhat wished he was dealing with Stan instead. At least with him he could rely on his need to flirt and toy with him to give him away. But no, the scientist wasn't hunting Stanley, but instead a completely different vampire who was proving his dislike for hunting the blood sucking monsters. Taking advantage of how dark the night was, the human's weaker vision, and whatever ninja techniques he had learned from the internet, the young vampire had hidden annoyingly well in the thick blanket of shadows and clutter on the streets. So, the white-haired college graduate was poking around at every rock and thicket of grass or bushes along the sidewalk before the boiling irritation in his veins got to be too much and he let out a mix of a groan and a scream like a tea pot. Stomping over to one of the few flickering street lights on the road, the hunter stood in the light and dug out his knife, then used it to slash at his stomach to fill the air with the alluring scent of fresh blood. With a pained hiss and the new wet feeling of blood dripping sluggishly down his pale skin, the trap was set, and all the hunter had to do was wait for the shallow cut to work its magic. Which, didn't take long. All Xeno had time to do was get one of his metal stakes from his pocket and extend it, then he was set upon by the vampiric ninja-wannabe. However, despite his skill at stealth, the vampire was young in both a human and vampire sense. Freshly turned at a young age, he'd become a problem because he had yet to grow out of his pubescent hormones quite yet, and giving him a predatory draw and increased strength had only encouraged him to turn hard into the bad boy persona. Sadly, being a new vampire wasn't all improvements. It also meant an increased hunger and little control of your newfound strength. Which is what had led the young man to be targetted by the monster hunter association, and swiftly wiped out by a stake through the throat via Xeno Wingfield. With a grunt, the monster hunter threw the freshly dead young man to the sidewalk, wincing at the burning and itching sting bending down to yank the stake from his throat brought to his stomach. For a moment or so, he felt bad for the creature. He'd been young, and he'd let his newfound powers obviously go to his head after a lifetime diet of anime and movies, the silver haired hunter could understand his over excitement, but he also had little to no patience for dumbasses who couldn't register that they weren't in Naruto. So, his sympathy was brief, and he was soon just dragging the young creature's corpse into some bushes and calling the cleaning crew to come collect him. Then. He spoke.           "God damn, Doll. You're quite attractive when you're being lethal." Stan hummed, hopping down from his hiding spot in a nearby tree and giving the hunter a charming smile that he refused to admit brought a little heat to his face.         "Oh, so you're just gonna become a full blown stalker now? Did you follow me from my house, or was this another 'coincidental' run-in." Xeno's words dripped with sarcasm and venom, but the vampire simply rolled his glacial blue eyes,          "Actually, I'm here because I smelled fresh blood," At the mention of fresh blood, the scientist glanced down at his work shirt, spotting the tiny stain of blood his cut had left,          "Oh." He inwardly winced at how disappointed he sounded, but tried to recover with a sniff, "I had trouble luring the bastard out. It was quite the shock for me to find out that not every vampire would want to chase me down and prowl around my house for the entire fucking night." Stan simply snorted, fishing out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one before he spoke again,          "Nah, that's just my thing, doll,"         "Quit calling me doll! You have my name now, fucking quit." The vampire put his hands up in mock surrender, though his smirk didn't falter under the scientist's withering glare. For a moment, they simply stood in the cool night's darkness, the hunter with his arms crossed and dark eyes narrowed, and the vampire returning his malicious look with his own nonchalant, half-lidded one while he breathed whispy smoke from his dark mouth. Both men seemed to dare the other to say something or do anything, each looking for an excuse to make some sort of contact until the smaller male spoke again,           "Are you expecting me to run away? Because I told you the first time we met, I'm not likely to do that," He huffed, but Stan simply shrugged,           "I'm just messing with ya, doesn't matter to me if you run or not." He grinned more at the lightning fast moment of irritation on Xeno's face, but the hunter schooled his facial features back into their usual disdain-filled glare, only broiling with frustration on the inside. He hated this man's relaxed demeanor. He was a monster hunter, the tall, hypnotically pretty predator should be avoiding him at all costs. Yet here he was, needling at him as if he couldn't end him just as quickly as he had the younger blood sucker. Okay, well, not as quickly. Stanley had a good four inches on the monster hunter at least, and had a body that had been frozen at the prime of his life, toned and pruned like an artfully shaped shrub through the years into a gorgeous, powerful example of why humans were the apex predators of the world. Or, well, they were, but with his change into the more monstrous his status as the perfect predator had only increased. Stan was perfectly built to hunt humans. Not only did he have a supernatural magnetic beauty to him, but he'd been human, so he knew how humans behave first hand. He was a nightmarish wet dream. Xeno gave his head a good shake to banish those thoughts from his mind when he realized he was looking the vampire over with the hunger of a sugar baby sizing up their next piggy bank.           "Hey, Xeno," Stan hummed, but the hunter refused to look back at the man, which he simply took as a greenlight to continue, "you wanna play our little game tonight?" The hunter snorted in response, staring off into the darkness while his cheeks cooled,           "I thought you were only here to bother me, not play a game of fucked up tag," He said calmly, only looked back at the man when he heard him walking closer, only stopping when he was about two feet away, maybe within reach, a grin on his pretty face,           "Well, I thought it'd be a bit more polite to offer that rather than just asking if I could drink your blood outright." he reasoned, amused at the edge of poutiness that he seemed to sniff out through the veil of aloof indifference the hunter spoke with.            "No thanks to either offer, I don't want to be chased tonight." Xeno sniffed in response, simply adding a thicker layer of ill temper to cover how excited he was at the thought of being pursued a second time. The first time had, admittedly, given him a thrill, but he wasn't ready to voice such to the annoying vampire in front of him. However, Stan seemed to have picked up on his kryptonite from that first round,              "But aren't you curious to see what happens when you add the scent of blood to the mix?" The purr in the man's voice annoyed Xeno immensely, but the thought of maybe learning just how sensitive vampire instincts were, and how quickly one would succumb to them. Obviously young vampires are more prone to being controlled by their need to feed, but Stanley isn't a new vampire, that curious voice mused, already setting Xeno on a very likely stupid and dangerous path, It'd be immensely helpful to know just how easy it is to bring out those base urges in him. If he's going to follow you around it's best to know what to avoid so he doesn't go feral. It further encouraged, stoking the flames of the scientist's natural curiosity until he hummed,              "I suppose it would be useful for the association to know exactly what triggers a vampire to go into a frenzy of some sort. Fine." The vampire grinned at that,             "You do know that I can't promise my feeding instinct is the only one that'll come to the surface," he pointed out, making Xeno blink and raise an eyebrow at him,             "What? Why would any other instinct come into play?" turning red as Stan laughed,               "Well, in simple terms, I find you too attractive to promise that when I catch you I'd only want to drink your blood~" Xeno's face warmed up more at that, getting huffy and tripping over his words in his rush to snap at him.               "You can have a five minute head start, just like last time," he simply assured, "Just need a bit of blood, because your original scratch has closed," He laughed more when Xeno pulled up his shirt to see that his shallow cut from earlier had in fact begun to heal, no longer bleeding and instead beginning to scab over. The hunter only responded with a glare at that point as he plucked his knife from the sidewalk where he'd dropped it and wiped it off before leaving another cut along his stomach, this one a bit deeper than the first, but not enough to linger for more than a day or two. With that, Stan gave him a charming smile that showed his extending fangs, his blue eyes already getting a hungry gleam to them. So, without further conversation, Xeno took off down the street. The cuts on his stomach stung and itched more from his running, but he pressed on. His main concern was regulating his breathing and energy so that he could get as far away from the vampire as he could in his small window of time. Naturally, his plan wasn't to just run in a straight line and wait to be caught, not only would that likely be dangerous, as a vampire in a feeding frenzy was much more violent, but was less likely to fulfill the goal of bringing those deadly instincts to the surface at all. So, instead, he sought out other people, a crowded area, maybe a shop, that way it wasn't as easy for the predator to catch up to him. This is insanely stupid, that voice of reason finally spoke up, not only am I playing with fire by instigating an instinctual reaction, but I am woefully under prepared to run from Stan. He realized, filling his veins with icy terror when the weight of his situation fully sunk in, The first time we did this I barely survive on pure panic and him toying with me. If he really loses his shit and goes into a frenzy, I can't outrun him. The reality of the thought hurt, but it was sorely true. Despite all of his training as a monster hunter, Xeno had never been one for good cardio, namely in the stamina category. He relied on his wits and pure speed, not his ability to maintain those speedy response times or pace for long periods. but it's too late now, he reminded himself, thinking back to the way the vampire's fangs had extended so soon after he'd given him a fresh source of scent. Nope, he couldn't chicken out now. He had no choice but to stick to his plan and push the panic and fear aside. Instead, he simply focused on the route ahead of him and locked onto the light of a store further down the street, which he headed for instantly. The bright, artificial light blinded the pale scientist for a moment when he stumbled into the store, but he was swift to regain his barrings and dash down the aisles and through the crowds of night owls and whatnot that were still up at this hour. He knew that his five minutes had ended a minute or so before. Meaning he didn't have long before the vampire would be on his ass. So, thinking quickly, he swiped his hand over his wounds, then smeared the blood on his palm onto the tile flooring in an aisle. Once he had that down, Xeno ran off deeper into the store. He had very few places to hide. The bathroom was basically a dead end with no windows and only one door, he couldn't climb up the shelves or to the rafters in a timely manner, so he forwent that plan. Instead, he did the next best thing. leaving as distracting a trail as possible before bolting out one of the fire exits.            "Shit," he wheezed when the fire exit triggered a screaming alarm through out the store. If Stan was in there, he'd definitely know he got out now, but that only meant the scientist had less time to think of such things. He had to focus on running. So, Xeno ignored the way his legs throbbed, and his lungs ached from gulping down the cold night air. He focused entirely on getting home, or at least to a more residential area. He could feel his limbs getting heavier, threatening more and more to give out with each step, but his grit his teeth and bared it until the threat became reality and the asphalt bit into his skin. And there he laid for a few seconds, gasping for air and scraping up as much energy as he could to push himself to his feet. As he did, he glanced back down the street, and sure enough. Stanley was coming out of the alley Xeno'd run out of, his glowing blue eyes locking onto the scientist in an instant. With another curse spat out through gritted teeth, Xeno took off again. His legs still screamed from exhaustion, and now his hands stung viciously from the fall, but he kept going. He could hear Stan closing in on him, which gave him a final burst of frantic energy that carried him to at least the park near his home before the vampire finally tackled him to the grass. The scientist could only wheeze in response, letting the vampire crush against him and push his face into his pale neck with a growl. That seemed to snap him out of the exhaustion cloud, and in an instant, Xeno was squirming and forcing himself up once again. The only way he managed it was because the vampire was taken by surprise, so he was able to slip from his grasp and scramble up, but he only got a few more steps before he had to lean against a tree for support so that his legs didn't crumble a third time. Then, just as quickly as he'd gotten away, Xeno was back in Stan's luke-warm arms, trapped against his needlessly heaving chest with his fangs hovering over his jugular once more. However, he didn't bite down. To the contrary, the feral vampire seemed to hesitate for a moment, seemingly weighing his options of what to do with the hunter before settling on a choice and swiftly switching to almost slamming him against the nearest tree.           "S-Stanley!" The hunter wheezed, more surprised then anything, pushing back so that his face at least wasn't forced into the course bark and he could look back to try and see the blonde behind him. Said blonde was keeping him in place with a hand on one of his shoulders, looking Xeno in the eye and almost relishing the dawning realization that painted his pale cheeks before he used his free hand to hook into his pants and tug them down pretty roughly. Then, he was back at the man's neck, but this time he bit with his blunter teeth, sucking at the skin until Xeno's mewls and hums were pulled out and he was satisfied with the hickey he'd left. The scientist, meanwhile was a bit ashamed of how quickly he accepted the turn of events. He tried to save some face by muffling the noises bubbling in his throat, but Stan's mouth at his neck, paired with the way he ground his groin into his now-bear rear drug a few noises out. Though, it also bat back the fog of hormones and lust long enough for the hunter to realize that he was very likely to get hurt if he didn't intervene. So, he whined and reached up to tangle his fingers in Stan's messy hair, tugging at it until he finally relinquished his throat from the second hickey he was dedicated on leaving. Carefully, Xeno turned himself around with what little room he was permitted between the vampire's muscular chest and the much-less-forgiving tree. Once they were face to face though, the college graduate's brain no longer seemed to work, so, the two simply stood there, panting a bit from the chase, before he finally gave up on using words and instead simply sunk down to his knees. Keeping his eyes glued to the glowing blue pair above him as he went. Luckily enough for him, his actions at least intrigued the vampire, because he was allowed to tug his bottoms down just enough for his member to spring free, which earned him a noise somewhere between a growl and a hum. With Stan's pants down and his member now standing erect in front of him, Xeno hesitated. Should it matter if I'm any good at this sort of shit? I just need some sort of lubrication, and he shouldn't really care about anything beyond...mating, so surely he won't give a shit, right? He asked himself, puzzling over the predicament before Stan reached down to grab onto his shirt, reminding the scientist of his lack of patience. So, Xeno threw his insecurities to the wind and grabbed onto the base of the shaft so he could slip Stan's impatient member into his mouth. The vampire moaned in response, and Xeno took that as a sign that he'd bought a bit more time for himself. So, he slowed down, bobbing his head at a medium sort of pace to work himself up to taking as much of the length as he could, which, thankfully for him, was almost all of it thanks to years of speed-drinking coffee and energy drinks and eating at record speeds in college. He also found that once he actually got to moving, the embarrassment of his lack of skills faded away, and part of him simply enjoyed the groans he got out of Stan while he moved his lips up and down him at a steady pace. He simply continued to work him as much as he could until the vampire let out a little hiss and gripped onto the scientist's shirt until he pulled away and let his throbbing member go with a coy 'pop'. Suddenly, Xeno was yanked back to his feet and whirled around again to be slammed back into the tree. His pants were tugged down once more and his feet were kicked apart in rapid succession so the monster hunter only got a moment's break before Stan pushed into him. And while it hurt still, the white-haired man found that he didn't mind as much. As the vampire began thrusting into him, one hand clawing into his hip, the other on his shoulder, Xeno moaned out curses and did his best to grab onto the tree or Stan's neck to keep steady under the merciless thrusts of the blonde. It was shameful how hot his body got, but with how Stan was hitting that sweetspot within Xeno, his face back to being buried in his neck for more marks, Xeno couldn't care less.        "Mmmm, fuck! ah, r-right there, please!" he plead, tangling his fingers back into Stan's hair as he moaned, giving another lewd noise when his pursuer did as he asked, swiftly learning that doing so got more needy noises from the hormone-addled hunter. With that, Xeno lost all coherency as euphoria further fogged his mind, and soon brought him to his peak with a whine of the vampire's name. Though, Stan didn't stop when Xeno came, he just kept thrusting into him, still flooding his pale body with more and more pleasure while his hot puffs of breath tickled his hickey-littered neck. The continued rough treatment was beginning to sting, but the edge of pain only seemed to bolster Xeno's pleasure back to its peak, pushing a second orgasm from him before Stan finally grew sloppy with his thrusts and soon gave one final movement before emptying himself into the hunter. After that, the monster hunter let himself melt against the tree, relying on Stanley to hold him up because he was on the verge of passing out after that night's activities. The last thing Xeno remembered was giving a thumbs up to what he assumed was the question 'are you okay'. Then, he let his exhaustion take him into dreamland.

[bluesclves]

Are you referring to Mackie stating he’s trying to portray men sensitive side and calling out people who associate two men hanging out as being gay? People are calling him homophobic....how?! People have to understand they are not the only people who have something needing to be represented. I’m laughing at people, not you who called Mackie homophobic because they mad Sam and buck aren’t a couple. Mackie has play gay characters to the fullest extent so why would someone who’s “homophobic” do that? Sorry to rant on your blog love, I was in his hashtag and saw hate and then of course there’s racism among the mix.

Okay, so I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume you just want an actual explanation for why I personally (and I'm sure a lot of other people too) am upset by the interview.

Here's the Twitter thread with links to the article in question for reference:

https://twitter.com/Variety/status/1405601621732577280?s=19

I'm gonna start by saying I don't think Anthony Mackie is Homophobic. I haven't called him that, and I won't, because I don't believe that he is. I do think he should have just left his answer at "I don't get involved in the Fandom stuff", and not tried to explain any further than that, because he really dug himself a hole and kept digging throughout that whole speech.

I also don't really think he's an ally. I think he wanted to come off as an ally, and either he's just really confused, or has no idea/does not care what the lgbt community wants in terms of representation.

(And before anyone calls me a racist, I am absolutely still mad at Chris Pratt and Chris Evans and Jenson Ackles for saying things like this and worse. I wasn't really the type to make posts or participate in conversations in Fandom back when they each said their shit, but I remember it, and I'm bringing it up now because they absolutely deserve to be remembered. They built up this foundation of Actors discussing slash fiction/fanart and being shitty to their queer audience about it, and having no repercussions for it. They shouldn't get a pass, especially real homophobes like Chris Pratt.)

(Anthony Mackie wouldn't think it's fine/normal to say this stuff if the white men before him had been held accountable for their statements, and that's all I'm gonna say as far as race goes.)

The problem I have with what Mackie said is that he's very dismissive of the problem that is lacking Gay Representation. He uses an excuse that homophobes have long been using against Gay Representation, saying that "It used to be guys can be friends, we can hang out, and it was cool...You can't do that anymore, because something as pure and beautiful as homosexuality has been exploited by people who are trying to rationalize themselves,” (Anthony Mackie via Variety Magazine 2021).

The problem with this is that is frames the desire for gay representation as encroaching on straight men's right to have platonic friendships. Which, it doesn't. Slash fiction/fanart exists because of a lack of gay representation in media. Fan creations lean far more towards queer/non-heteronormative-conforming relationships because we don't see ourselves represented in the media we consume. So, at a lack for representation in media, we create our own representation.

So if the gay representation doesn't exist in mainstream media (or is only baited *cough*destiel*cough*) how can it possibly be encroaching on heteronormative relationships?

The answer is it's not. But homophobes want to use that excuse to call queer creators "gross" and "oppressive" when we see the potential for gay rep in (yet another) 'just close bros' male friendship. They don't want the gays 'contaminating' their cishet masculinity.

And again, I'm not calling Anthony Mackie a homophobe. I think he means well, especially given the rest of his interview. I also think he's parroting back homophobic rhetoric that he's heard from actual homophobes, not realizing how demeaning and harmful it can be. It's hard to tell sometimes-- homophobes have gotten really good at phrasing their rhetoric in a way that doesn't seem so blatantly bad as it is. Everyone makes mistakes, and I'm more than willing to give Mackie the benefit of the doubt here. I don't think he's homophobic, just... misguided.

That doesn't mean he shouldn't be called out on it. (And I think we all enjoy poking fun at the dumb shit people say, it sure helps take the edge off the crushing disappointment I feel every time I see this rhetoric pops up.)

So, yeah. That's my two cents on this.

TL;DR: I'm mad about the Variety Interview, but I'm willing to forgive Mackie on this if he realizes why what he said was a bad take, and corrects himself/apologizes. I'm certainly a whole lot more willing to forgive Mackie than I am Crisp Ratt (known homophobe and all around terrible person) or even Jensen Ackles (dude literally treated destiel fans like freaks for years).

[strawberry1212]

Asian drama female lead passivity

I feel like a lot of aspects of female lead (FL) passivity is discussed (the fish kiss being the most famous example), but I wanted to systematically analyze each trope under the theory of female passivity and its feminist implications.

This topic has been stuck in my mind ever since I read a blog years ago (literally like six years ago so I’m sorry I have no idea where it is, I can’t link it) talking about how intimacy in Asian dramas is always portrayed as something women relent to giving up half-heartedly, and men one sidedly pursue. Women are chaste, men are lustful, and women are yielding to men, that is the essential message.

This dynamic plays out in Western media as well--the movie Don Jon is a super interesting analysis comparing how women are indoctrinated by romcoms, to how men are indoctrinated by porn. So women attach grand romantic gestures and romantic commitment to their self worth, because that��s what the girl gets in her happy ending, while men attach it to sexual prowess/having women do kinky sexual favors.

This dynamic is super harmful because it works to suppress female sexuality, as well as male emotionality. People are always surprised when a woman would rather just want sex (or a career) over a romantic commitment. And men are applauded for having the bare minimum of emotional awareness because it’s so rare.

I think a form of Asian drama female lead (FL) passivity that is most talked about is the infamous “fish kiss.” See exhibit A:

The guy initiates the kiss on the usually unsuspecting girl, as if the girl ever going in for the kiss herself would be too sexually aggressive. And as if even enjoying the kiss would be too much, they have her just stand there eyes wide open. It’s awkward, and even slightly funny to watch, but our critique often ends here. But I think the fish kiss is a symptom of a much deeper problem. 

You will notice that female lead passivity is present in all physical interactions between the romantic interests.

The pull in hug:

Which sometimes the FL looks uncomfortable to frightened in:

I even found a meme, so I know I’m not the only who thinks this is weird:

(meme/photo credit: https://goliath1357.tumblr.com/post/27115253892/kdramareasons-awkward-one-sided-hugs-k-drama)

What I don’t like about this trope is first of all, it makes female consent seem less romantic. It romanticizes this idea of male pursuit/female passivity, the man will protect her, the man will pursue her (basically like an object), the man will do all the work in making the relationship progress, etc., and it romanticizes this dynamic to women--this is easy to romanticize for us, because to the most of us that aren’t being constantly pursued by two hot men, this pursuit dynamic seems like a dream boat. Often the kdrama female lead (due to the Initial Misunderstanding trope) will even dislike and push away the male lead--and yet he still pursues her, how romantic! -_- Except in real life, the guy aggressively pursuing you and ignoring you disinterest is not romantic.

And the issue is on both sides, because it teaches women to just stand there, not express consent, and not express sexual/intimacy enthusiasm when we’re feeling it (that would be ~unladylike~). And on the other side, it teaches men to do all the pursuing and to assume that a girl standing frozen, wide eyed, and often looking scared as you kiss her, is consent. Sometimes the guy even interprets a clear “no” as consent. (Honestly I’m not even sure if these Asian drama writers are thinking along the lines of “xyz is consent,”...like I’m not sure how often they even think of the concept of consent tbh.)

But anyways, passivity. is not. consent!!!! That’s why we have the slogan “Yes mean yes,” meaning both parties must have enthusiastic, clear consent, for respectful intimacy. Asian dramas discourage women from expressing an enthusiastic “yes,” and it teaches men not to expect this “yes,” so they can steamroll past passivity and even rejection.

And I know some people will be boohooing me on this. “But sudden kisses and hugs are so romantic!” people will say. But what is “romantic,” like many things, is a social construct. We think things are romantic because they’ve always been presented to us as romantic, with swelling music in the background and the implicit understanding that anything is ok because they are Soulmates(TM) that end up happy together. We construct our idea of what is romantic largely out of media.

But that is not real life, and carrying those messages over to real life (as we inevitably all do), is dangerous. I just moved to Japan so this especially hits close to home for me: I dress conservatively by American standards, but I couldn’t bring a quarter of my clothes when I moved because I worried men on trains would interpret them as revealing, and therefore I would be “asking for it.” I, and I’m sure many women will feel me on this, think about and fear sexual assault very often. And when we don’t enshrine active consent, we perpetuate rapist culture.

Since “romantic” is anything our society constructs it to be, let’s romanticize enthusiastic consent! (like this NCT song!!) I think sudden kisses can be cute when you’ve established boundaries that it’s is ok, but it scares me that men and women are watching this and thinking suddenly kissing a person you haven’t discussed boundaries/intimacy with at all is cute. It’s all fun and games when it’s the hot male lead kissing the girl you know he’s going to end up with, but it’s not cute when it’s real life men thinking they’re entitled to women’s bodies.

Other examples of female passivity:

I stopped watching Moonlight Drawn over the Clouds at precisely this scene:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6I0WXeD-dc&ab_channel=KBSWORLDTV

because it was so painful to watch her sitting there like a fish as the guys got these cool fight scenes. Like girllll literally do anything, throw a rock, something! First dramas routinely disable the female characters by making the male characters the able fighters, but even if you’re not an able fighter you can do more than just sit there like a lame duck -_- Especially the parts of these scenes where someone is standing over the girl with the sword and the writers don’t give the girl the presence of mind to simply run away, but they give the guy the presence of mind to somersault into the room, jump over ten monkey bars, slash the antagonist, and catch the girl bridal style on his way down. I guess the damsel in distress trope is as old as the book, but just the complete passivity so many female characters show in fight scenes as they need to be saved is really annoying and disempowering.

I think the worst part is their faces, they’re all like omg! this is so sad!

well girl you could have done literally ANYTHING other than sit there as he took ten bullets for you lmao. Women don’t exist to stand by and be saved!!! This is a historical drama but the modern drama version is when the guy is getting beat up by bullies or whatever and the girl just stands by and does nothing but look upset.

Another good trope that is under this passivity theme is the double wrist grab, where we not only have ONE male lead (ML) manhandling the FL, but TWO MLs. Ahh yes the only thing better than forcibly ignoring consent and the FL’s wishes is TWO men doing it.

I heard this recently even happened in True Beauty...which...that drama...truly I thought Kdramas were progressing until I saw how much people were hyping up that mess of misogyny (not to mention how boringly predictable it was). 

I can’t quite express this next trope in a screenshot, but something I also see a lot of is the ML professing his love to the FL and she sort of just stands there like O_O. Like she’s just sort of this object that sits there being admired? It’s just such an unnatural way to react to someone professing their love for you, and these scenes drag on for many minutes of just the ML’s dialogue so the female actress, having no lines, has no choice but to sit there O_O. Like give her lines! Give her reactions! Give her anything other than being wide eyed!!!!

And these physical interactions represent deeper emotional passivity in the female lead.

I’ve noticed it’s almost always the trend of the male lead falls later, but falls harder, and ultimately he puts more energy into making the relationship progress. Again, this buys into female fantasy, but it is an unhealthy fantasy that is grounded, I think, in our insecurities, and our fear of putting ourselves out there (so we would rather have someone pursue us than put ourselves out there and meet someone halfway).

This emotional passivity is why, weirdly enough, sometimes I will really like the drama because the girl is very stubbornly, openly, and aggressively pursuing the guy. A case of this is Itazura na Kiss, or Mischievous Kiss (there’s a Jdrama, Kdrama, and anime--I only watched the anime). Now the guy is downright meannnnn in Mischievous Kiss, this was not a healthy relationship at all, but there was something refreshing about the girl. Sure her aggression was in pursuing a man, but at least it was aggression, and I’d always only seen any hint of female sexuality/actively pursuing as something very stigmatized. 

I think a sister trope to the passivity trope is the innocence trope. The guy will literally take the initiative to profess his undying love to the FL and she’ll be like “what?? omg stop teasing you’re joking ahahha.” Why do FLs need to be so oblivious/innocent? I think it caters to the way media is seen through a male gaze but that’s a trope to deconstruct another time.