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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Flying High, Falling Fast

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; fingering, oral, fucking, subtle creep factor, deceptive charm, the usual fare you know

This is dark!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You meet the new Captain America at an event and impress him with your homemade project, but his interest is more than friendly.

Note: We all need some dark!Sam, right? This is a pretty long one shot, just over 7k words but it was super fun to write a character I don’t get to a lot. But I hope you love him as much as me!

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You’d never been to a meet and greet before but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to meet up with Reese. The two of you met a year and a half ago on a Discord server for PC builds and eventually waded through the awkward blank cursors to real conversations. Little updates on new additions to your machines, memes about coding, and the occasional gaming session. He became a stalwart in your mostly solitary existence between work and your empty private life.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Reese but you felt safer meeting a stranger from the internet in a public setting. Plus, it was his suggestion. His roommate fell through on attending the event with him and you eagerly accepted the unclaimed ticket. Of course, Reese insisted it was his treat but you made him promise to let you pay for lunch.

Even more exciting, you were going to meet the new Captain America. THE CAPTAIN AMERICA. You wanted to squee but had to play it cool as you waited with Reese in the winding queue.

As exclusive as the meet and greet was, it was stiflingly crowded, even more strenuous as you and Reese tried to adjust your rapport to a face-to-face environment. You mostly ended up chuckling and struggling for some cogent thought.

“What’s in the bag?” Reese asked, finally cracking through the stunted small talk.

“Oh, oh my god, I almost forgot,” you carefully lifted the bag and opened the top to let him peek inside, “I made this last year during lockdown. It’s silly but it was fun.”

He poked his finger around the opening of your drawstring knapsack and his brows rose in surprise. The drone had taken you most of your spare time but you hadn’t yet had a chance to do more than hover it around your bedroom. It was an exact replica, or exact as you could get, of the former Falcon’s Redwing.

“Holy shit! You never mentioned it,” he said.

“Oh, well, I guess… I never thought to. I just spent about an hour or so whenever I could, getting it together. Most of the time was spent on programming,” you closed your bag and let hit hang from your elbow, “and that’s another checkbox on the nerd list.”

“Please, look who you're talking to,” he joked with a snort.

You smiled at him sheepishly and looked ahead of the bodies in front of you as the line shifted forward. He wasn’t exactly disappointing, if anything, he was exactly what you expected. Skinny with black-framed glasses and a bright tee with the Captain’s shield emblazoned across his chest. He wasn’t bad-looking and thankfully not an incel.

“So, uh, you gonna give it to him or something?” Reese asked.

“What-- uh, no, I was hoping he’d sign it actually,” you chewed your lip anxiously, “if I don’t spaz out and just walk away.”

“Right,” he scoffed, “the last time I went to one of these I almost passed out.”

“Oh? Who was it?” you wondered aloud.

“Tony Stark. But I was still in high school,” he explained, “everything else sells out before I get to it. These I got by luck. If David hadn’t swiped them, we’d be standing outside wishing we were in here.”

“I can’t believe he passed on the ticket,” you uttered.

“I’m happy he did,” Reese said, “it made it easier to convince you to meet.”

“Well… we didn’t have to--”

“I’m teasing. Sorry. I’m not very… experienced at this,” he fidgeted.

“It’s fine,” you shrugged as you moved with the line, “I’m just nervous about meeting Captain America, you know? You’re not as intimidating… but I like that.”

“Uh, thanks,” he laughed as you got closer to the table and fidgeted with the straps of your bag. You were almost there.

You stepped up when the people ahead of you cleared away and you couldn’t help but stare at Bucky Barnes’ metal hand as he signed Reese’s special edition Blip magazine. He cleared his throat and you looked the Winter Soldier in the face.

“Oh, sorry,” you slid the poster you got from the shop on the way in onto the table and he unrolled it and signed. You tried really hard not to focus on his hand, you were so curious as to how it all worked. “Thank you.”

He smiled through tight lips and said, “your welcome” before you sidled down to Sam Wilson as you rolled up your poster.

“Don’t worry about him,” Sam said, “he hates these things. I can’t take him anywhere.”

His laughter received a sharp look from the super soldier. Sam took Reese’s magazine and asked his name. You were too lost in thought to answer when he asked for yours. You coughed and sputtered as you tried to remember and Reese answered for you, adding that you were nervous.

“I, uh, oh,” you lifted your bag, “I was hoping, maybe, you might sign this instead,” you handed the poster to Reese and reached into your knapsack, “if you don’t mind?”

You carefully placed the drone on the table and his brows shot up in surprise. He lifted it just as you let it go and admired it as he leaned back, “you make this?”

“Yeah,” you answered shyly, “doesn’t have all the cool features like yours but it flies.”

“That’s awesome,” he put it back down and uncapped his marker, “where do you want me to sign?”

“Just on the top is fine,” you pointed, “thank you so much.”

“My pleasure,” he put his signature after spelling out your name and he grabbed the drone again, “hey, Buck, look at this? I don’t see any fancy arms that need signing.”

“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled and eyed the drone, “pretty cool, though.”

“Thanks, uh, well, we should get out of the way,” you said.

He handed you the drone and smiled. You began to shuffle away and he called you back to the table, “you code? Do a lot of programming?”

“Mostly just corporate sites,” you answered.

“Here,” he reached into his pocket, “send me a text. I think I know some people who’d like to meet you.”

“What?” you took the card rigidly.

“Sure, we’re always looking for techs,” he said, “and if we can’t find a spot for you, maybe you can see the real Redwing. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Wow, thank you, you… don’t have to do… that,” you stuttered.

“I’d be stupid not to,” he waved off your protests, “you go have fun, you two.”

You backed away and turned to walk away with Reese as you shoved your drone back in your bag with the card, numb with disbelief.

“Wow, I can’t believe…” you trailed off as you mind wandered.

“Me either,” Reese said oddly, “that’s… wild.”

You looked at him and smiled. He didn’t look mad, only serious. You tightened the neck of the knapsack and slung it over your shoulders.

“So what are we doing for lunch?” you asked.

🌠

In the two weeks since you attended the meet and greet, you and Reese kept up mostly online, many arrangements interrupted by your real life responsibilities. It wasn’t until you offered for him to come with you to the SWORD labs that he had any free time for you. After a stressful text exchange with Captain America, you were too anxious to go alone and he was more than welcoming when you asked to bring a friend.

You stood on the subway as Reese sat and played his Switch. He was jittery as you kept your own nerves hidden just beneath the surface. You found it easier to stay standing as you felt as if you might combust if you sat.

“This is so awesome,” he said as he zipped his Switch up in its case, “thanks for inviting me.”

“I figured I owed you since you got the tickets for the meet and greet,” you said, “and it’s been a while.”

“Sorry about that, work’s been nuts,” he stood as you approached your stop and held onto the pole above your hand, “I kinda skipped out on half a day for this.”

“No,” you frowned, “you didn’t have to--”

“And miss a chance to see the real Redwing? Come on,” he scoffed.

“Oh,” you hung your head, “yeah, I guess that’s worth it.”

“I didn’t mean-- I’m happy to see you too, it’s just kinda a big deal,” he said as you approached the door with the few other passengers readying to hop off.

“No, I get it,” you hooked your thumbs under the straps of your knapsack as the doors slid open and you stepped out onto the platform, “I just… I couldn’t go alone. It’s so… scary.”

“Scary? Jeez, Captain America invited you to a job interview!”

“No, that’s not--”

“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what it is but I promise, I won’t get in the way,” he said as you head for the concrete stairs, “maybe if he needs an extra coder I might piggy back.”

“Uh huh,” you came up onto the New York sidewalk and came into view of the immense SWORD building, “well, I don’t think it’s all that.”

“So why’d you bring this?” he tapped your bag as you neared the large glass doors and men in suits with coiled wires at their ears squared their shoulders.

“He asked me to,” you said as you were approached by one of the big security guards.

“This isn’t public entry,” he said sternly, “no tours.”

“I have an appointment or… I’m expected,” you pulled out your phone and pulled up the electronic pass Sam sent you, “see?”

“Hmm,” he eyed it and took your phone without asking. Another guard came and scanned it with his phone, “checks out but we’re gonna called down Mr. Wilson and get confirmation.”

“Oh, okay,” you fidgeted as he made no move to return your phone. Reese seemed to shrink as the two men spoke into their headset and nodded at each other.

“Hey,” the glass door burst open as Sam appeared and strode towards you, “hey, sorry, these guys are such buzzkills,” he approached and patted one of the men on the shoulder, “they’re with me.” He assured and waved you after him.

“Um, my phone,” you said to the taller man with the buzzed head. He tilted his head wryly and held out your cell between two fingers. You took it and followed Sam to the doors.

“Anyway, we were just going over some basic maintenance today and I thought you might like to observe. See everything that goes into keeping me and my toys in the air,” he smiled as he held the door and nodded at Reese, “nice to see you again, man.”

“You too, Cap...tain,” Reese answered dumbly.

“Sam is fine,” he chuckled back and tailed the two of you across the lobby as he pointed you towards the elevators. He made Reese look even more like a stick bug. “You bring it?”

“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” you stopped yourself from popping your knuckles out of nervousness, “thank you so much for this. I usually work in cubicles so… uh, yeah… I don’t know what I mean.”

“Hey, don’t be nervous, you built that thing all by yourself? I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” he said.

You got off the elevator and had to hold in a gasp at the shining laboratories as the hi-tech equipment gleamed through the glass walls. Sam led you down the curved staircase onto the lab floors as techs and assistants in both lab coats and starched suits milled around the tables along the edge of the room.

“Hey, Greta,” he called out as he showed you to a metal table, “get a look at this.” A woman with twisted red hair approached as Sam tapped his fingers on the table, “show her,” he urged you.

You swung your bag around and took out the little red and silver drone. You placed it in the middle of the table and the woman, Greta, tilted her head curiously.

“You said you can make this thing fly, right?” Sam asked as Reese watched from the other side of the table.

“Um, yep,” you unlocked your phone and brought up the beta app you designed, “just…”

The drone rose slowly and steadied before you as it hovered over the metal. Greta lifted a dark brow and ran a nail along her chin thoughtfully, “cute.”

“Ah, come on, tell me that isn’t awesome? She did it all by herself,” Sam boasted, “so, what do you think? She’d be a great tech, huh?”

“Tech? I…” you blinked and giggled, that was absurd.

“Does she have a resume? A list of her credentials, at least,” Greta rebuffed.

“Greta,” Sam warned playfully, “I’m her credentials. I’m giving her a reference right now. Hire her.”

“What?” you mumbled under your breath and you saw Reese’s eye cling to Sam darkly, almost enviously.

“You know, if I hadn’t let that kid go for hi-jacking the alpha, I’d tell you to go back to breaking your toys,” she warned, “but I trust you and… I cannot say I’m not impressed,” she narrowed her sights at the floating drone, “how long did this take you?”

“A year or so,” you answered, “it was… just meant to be a hobby but--”

“Well, make it your life,” she said tersely, “Wilson, you deal with HR, Sheila likes you better.”

“Leave it all to me,” he grinned and she walked away.

“Here,” he turned back to you, “I’ll show you the operating system for the real deal.”

He ushered you and Reese over to a computer after you lowered your drone. The real Redwing sat on a module next to the screen and Sam punched the keys and took a hooked earpiece from a small stand, “put this on.”

You slipped the earpiece on as he revealed a bracelet and adjusted it on your wrist, a small ring looping up your index finger.

“Bend your finger,” he said and you did it, “lift it up, back… like that.” Redwing rose and you watched in amazement, “tilt your head…” the drone aimed in the same direction as your head, “now back,” it flew higher, “just like that. You’re getting it.”

You steered the drone in a circle and Sam helped you maneuver it back down. He let you hand the controls over to Reese who had more fun with it and nearly took out one of the workers. He apologised and Sam just chuckled, though it didn’t sound so amused.

When Redwing was back in its place, Sam took you all around the room to show you every gadget; his wings, his suit, all his little weapons, and even pulled up some Wakandan schematics of Bucky’s arm. Much of it wasn’t in English however and you could only decipher what was visually laid out.

He left you there for a moment as he excused himself to chat with a tech about his wings. Reese huffed and leaned against the wall. You were quiet, mostly stunned, though your usual reticence could also be blamed.

“I don’t think you should’ve brought me,” he said, “I told you it was a job interview.”

“I didn’t know, I thought you would enjoy it,” you felt awful as Reese had given up trying to hide his jealousy.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “well, it is pretty cool but…”

He was interrupted as Sam returned, “sorry about that, guys, I kinda messed up one of the engines on the wings on my last mission.”

You smiled and said it was fine. You hadn’t expected so much attention and thought it would be a brief little show and tell, not an entire tour. You returned to the table where you left your drone and shut down the app. You packed up your Redwing, it felt lighter but you were sure you were just imagining things as your head spun. You looked down at the bold signature across the shell and knotted the drawstring above its nose.

“Sorry, I…” you took your bag from the table, “I hate to bother but is there a bathroom I can use.”

“Oh yeah, just head back up the stairs, left of the elevators,” Sam pointed above, “we’ll wait here, there’s one last thing I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you headed for the stairs and latched onto the railing before you could trip upwards.

You bumbled up the stairs and after a brief moment of blankness, you found your way to the bathroom. You quickly slipped into the stall and spent a minute at the mirror after washing your hands to get your head straight. It felt like a dream, or worse, a joke.

You headed back out and Sam was waiting just by the elevators to your surprise. You pursed your lips and glanced around, “where’s Reese?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, he left,” he said as he shoved his hand in his pocket, “said he wasn’t feeling it.”

“Really?” you shrunk, just a little, “erm… that’s too bad.”

“Yeah, kinda weird, I don’t think I’ve ever just ditched a girlfriend in the middle of the city,” he said.

“Girlfriend? Well… it’s… it’s early,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I hope he’s okay.”

“Damn, I hope he didn’t ruin it, I still wanted to show you the shield,” he intoned, “but if you’re not feeling up to it--”

“No, no, I’m here, that would be awesome,” you forced a smile.

Had you done something wrong? Was it rude to invite Reese and have all this rubbed in his face? You thought he’d feel worse if you didn’t invite him. Your doubts flurried in your head as you stepped onto the elevator with Sam, chewing your cheek as you tried not to show your disappointment.

You were brought back to the present as the metal doors opened and Sam nudged you as you stared right through the open space. You stepped out ahead of him and he caught up and walked beside you as he explained what was hidden in every room; mostly offices and training gyms.

He unlocked a door at the far curve of the circular hallway and jiggled until it opened. He pushed it open and the lights flicked on automatically.

“Bucky,” he grumbled, “he almost took the handle right off… so now I gotta fight it.”

“Oh,” you entered as he beckoned you inside and you looked around the spacious office.

“You know, there’s lots of paperwork when you take out a whole bridge, even if it is an accident,” he laughed, “and it gives me a place to show this off.”

He went to the wall where the shield was held on small metal hooks and slid it out easily. The vibranium sung in the air as he turned to you and held it out.

“You wanna?” he asked.

“Sure…” you murmured as he turned it around and held it so you could hook your arm through the straps. He let it go and stood back to look you over.

“It suits you,” he said, “got your own Redwing and you hold that like a real champ. Maybe it’s time I step aside.”

You laughed nervously and shook your head. You peeked down at the metal and lifted and angled around as you admired the smooth curve.

“Thanks,” you offered it back to him and he took it with one hand, “for everything.”

“You’re taking the job, right?” he prodded, “it’s perfect.”

“Mmm, well, I got a job--”

“Better than here? Better than suiting up the Cap?” he chided.

You bent your ankle under you and swayed on your feet. It was a great opportunity and way better than your desk job. It just felt like you didn’t deserve it.

“I need an answer. Greta doesn’t like indecision,” he said.

“O-okay, okay,” you surrendered, “I… if I said no, I’d feel even worse.”

“You won’t regret it, promise,” he said, “if you do, Redwing is yours. The real one.”

“No, no, I’m…” you rocked as you gripped the straps of your knapsack, “I’m sure I won’t.”

🌠

Your two weeks notice rolled by. Your boss was less than pleased by the sudden departure but you didn’t care much as you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer. You wrapped up your last day with your replacement and left feeling free, though the anxiety of your job loomed on the other side of the weekend.

In those weeks since your visit to the SWORD facility, you hadn’t heard much from Reese. That night when you messaged him to make sure he was okay, he didn’t say much more than ‘just tired’. After that, he was always offline when you signed onto the server and all your co-op requests were declined. You were ready to give up.

Oh well, it was an online thing anyway, you were stupid to think it could work out.

But you were not entirely isolated. To your surprise, you got several messages from Sam, you still couldn’t help but think of him as Captain America and feel like you had nothing interesting to say to a hero. When he found out you liked to game, he even joined you for a session on headset but again, you were hyper focused and quiet. You were flattered that he was trying to make you feel welcome, that he even bothered to get you a job, but it all felt so above you.

When you got home that night, you logged in and sent a request to Reese, just one last attempt. He didn’t even respond, even after fifteen minutes of waiting. You shut down your PC and grabbed your switch instead. You changed as the system updated your Animal Crossing and flopped onto your bed.

You laid across the mattress, one leg over the edge and the other bent. You ran through, planting, fishing, and selling as you tried not to think too much. You’d done enough of that lately. You zoned out as your eyes narrowed at the small screen but in your peripheral, you felt a shadow move. You shrugged it off as the sunlight playing through the curtains and rolled onto your side to ignore it.

You kept on, ready to log out as you didn’t want to spend another Nook Ticket to go to and island and get nothing but flowers. You heard a subtle whirring and glanced over at your computer. It was sleeping and it was never that loud. You noticed that light shift again and turned. There was nothing. Nothing but your dresser and the signed drone, just as you left it.

You squinted and turned off your Switch. You went out to the front room to drop it back in the dock. You stretched and grabbed your phone from your purse to put in an order for some take-out. You stopped as you noticed Sam’s unanswered messages.

‘Whatcha doin’ tonite?’ and several that assumed you must be busy.

‘Sorry, got caught up gaming,’ you replied guiltily.

Your phone shook before you could close out of the chat and you answered as Sam’s name flashed across the top.

“Hello?” you squeaked.

“Hey, hope I’m not buggin’ you but I thought-- stop, Jesus Christ, sorry, we’re on our way to dinner and we hoped you might join us.”

“We?” you echoed.

“Oh, ha, yeah me and Bucky, Greta, and some of the techs. Not too many of us but you’re more than welcome,” he said, “since you start on Monday, it will be good to get to know some people.”

“Y-yeah, for sure,” you answered. It felt more an obligation than an invite. You didn’t want to come across snobbish or lazy even if you’d rather eat fried noodles and watch some trash reality TV.

“Great! I’ll send you the address,” he growled and hissed under his breath, “sorry, again, I’m just dealing with this-- I’ll see you there. Save ya a seat.”

He hung up abruptly and you stood dumbfounded staring at your jacket. You dropped your phone back into your purse and headed back to your room. You had to find something to wear that didn’t seem like you were trying too hard or not trying enough.

As you entered, that same whirring floated through the air and suddenly stopped. You looked around confused; not a fly, not your PC acting up, nothing. You grimaced at the poster with the star emblem across it and went to your dresser to pick out an outfit. It was probably the neighbour fucking around. Apartment living was rarely peaceful.

🌠

The restaurant was bustling as you were met by the hostess at the door. You told her you were there to join the party from SWORD. She showed you to the table and Sam saw you above the din and waved to you then shoved Bucky over on the cushioned bench.

“Right here,” he pointed as he waved you over and stepped aside to let you past. You sidled along and sat, apologizing to Bucky as he rolled his eyes, “not too late.”

You gave your drink order as a waiter came by and shrugged out of your jacket, letting it bunch up around your back. Sam offered his menu and introduced the people you didn’t know at the table; alongside Bucky and Greta, were Xan and Wyatt. You said hello and opted for the fiesta salad as you set aside the menu.

“Are you excited?” Sam asked.

“For what?” Bucky huffed, “she’s gotta put up with you.”

“Hey,” Sam took the lemon off the rim of his glass and tossed it at Bucky, “he lightens up… sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled but you could hear the humour in his voice.

You sank into the background as the night went on. You spoke up when you were called on but felt it hard to assert yourself, especially with someone as outspoken as Sam beside you. Still, he made sure to make you feel included when you started to feel forgotten. For that you were grateful and he was right, it made you feel a little less anxious about your first day.

As you came out onto the sidewalk, your wallet painfully lighter, you bid goodbye to everyone but Sam hung around. You clutched your purse and peered down the street.

“Thanks for inviting me,” you said.

“Ah, you know what, I shoulda asked that guy, Reese? How’s it going with him? He your boyfriend yet?”

“Ha, no,” you sucked in your lip and took a deep breath, “I don’t even think we’re friends anymore.”

“Oh no, what happened?” he asked.

“I dunno,” you said wistfully, “but it is what it is.”

“He’s missin’ out. You’re a cool girl,” he said, “building drones for fun. Kinda why I had to snag you, you know? Someone with your skills, that’s dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” you chortled, “no.”

“Well,” he checked his phone, “how are you getting home?”

“I’ll just take the train,” you said, “my place is only about a ten minute ride from here.”

“You sure? I can give you a ride,” he said.

“Nah, really, you’ve done… more than enough.”

“Alright, well, see you Monday?”

“Monday?” you wondered.

“I’ll pop in before I head out,” he said, “got a mission so I might not be around more than that.”

“Okay, Monday,” you confirmed, “see ya.”

🌠

Monday was a whirlwind. It started on a high as Sam suited up and showed off his wings before he headed up to the jet pad. Greta muttered that she was happy he’d be out of your way before she went through the task of getting you acquainted not only with the tech but with their workplace rituals. It was a lot to take in but you did your best to absorb every word and second.

When you got home, you had a folder full of notes and spent too long going over them before you remembered the groan in your stomach. You ate a lazy super of Kraft Dinner and lazed across your bed doing nothing but watching Youtube tutorials on your tablet. You fell asleep early and woke to your alarm and a dead tablet.

You got up, got dressed, ran out, and did it all again. The first week dragged by and yet it felt like you didn’t have enough time. On Friday, you got home and fell across the couch in your work clothes. You held your phone above you and scrolled dozily through your feed.

A dot popped up and you flicked over to your notifications. The selfie you posted on your first day at the lab with Sam in his suit had lots of hearts but your first comment was less than pleasant. Beside Reese’s icon was all caps: MUST BE EASY SLEEPING YOUR WAY INTO A JOB!

Your heart pattered and you sat up. You deleted the comment but another soon appeared; several as you kept deleting and finally blocked him. ‘Slut, whore, dumb bitch…’ it was the last thing you expected from him.

You opened Discord and clicked on his chat. ‘What’s going on? Why are you doing this?’

The text flicked across the bottom that Reese was typing but he stopped and you sat there for what felt like forever before his response popped up.

‘I can’t believe you brought me all the way there to rub my face in all that shit. And for what? You should’ve just told me I had no chance and I woulda left you alone. If you wanna fuck Sam Wilson, do it, but don’t chain me along like your little bitch boy. Get fucked slut.’

You flinched as you read it and re-read it. You typed shakily as your eyes watered. ‘I’m not fucking Sam and I wouldn’t. I brought you there because I wanted to and thought you would like it. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. But I see what you think of me so I only wish you the best and hope you find peace.’

You sent the message but just as quickly, you were blocked from sending any more. You tossed your phone and fell back against the couch. That must have been why he took off but you couldn’t figure out how he thought you of all people were sleeping with Sam Wilson. Really? He was just another incel after all.

You phone jangled with your annoying ringtone and you grabbed it, expecting to be insulted by Reese again but it was Sam calling. You really weren’t in the mood to talk with him. You just wanted to be left alone. But you couldn’t just ignore Captain America.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey, I just got back in town. Whatcha doing?” you could hear the wind in the speaker.

“Just got home. I’m exhausted. Probably gonna just nap.”

“You okay?” he asked after a moment.

“Fine,” you said dully.

“Don’t sound fine,” he said, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you insisted.

“Oh, so it’s not what that boy said on your photo?”

“You saw that?”

“You tagged me, remember?”

“Oh, yeah, no, it’s…”

“Shit, don’t listen to him. He’s just a boy, he blew his chance and he’s bitter about it,” he said, “how about I come over, make sure you’re really okay?”

“No, I don’t think--”

“Ah, come on, don’t make me worry all night about you,” he chided.

“Sam, you really--” There was a knock at the window and you froze. “Sam?”

The line clicked and you heard the tapping again. You lowered your phone and went to the window. Outside, geared up in his wings and suit, Sam hovered before the glass. You blinked and he rapped again. You snapped out of your shock and unlocked the window and slid it up.

“What are you doing?” you asked, “wait? How do you know where I live?”

He grabbed onto the frame and hooked his leg through as he retracted his wings. He bent under and sat half-in and half-out of the window, “forgive me? I did a bit of snooping in HR.”

“I told you not to come. I really don’t feel up to-- It’s really weird that you’re here,” you sat as he ducked pulled his other leg through and stood, “Sam, I think you should go.”

“You shouldn’t be alone, especially after that moron sending you that shit,” he said coolly as he took off his tinted goggles.

“Well, I want to be alone, so you should--”

“I mean, I haven’t even fucked you yet and he’s jealous,” he snickered, “so I guess we should give him a real reason.”

“What are you talking about? That’s… gross. You should go--”

“Come on, girl, you think this was really about a drone,” he tossed his goggles down and set his shield on the chair as he strode around the room, “convenience. I want you close.”

“I don’t--” you looked down at your phone, “get out, Sam.”

The tone of your finger pressing ‘9’ sounded and he spun quickly to face you. He stormed over to you before you could hit ‘1’ and ripped it from your grasp.

“You’re gonna call the cops and say what? I’m Captain America,” he snarled, “but you can just call me Cap.”

He winked and threw your phone out the window smoothly. You gasped as he chuckled and lifted his wings off his back. He leaned them against the wall and stretched out his shoulders. He looked around as he twisted his tongue between his teeth.

“I like this, looks cozy,” he toed the side of the couch with his boot, “look better with you on it.”

You watched him stroll around the coffee table as he unzipped the collar of his suit. The scene was like some tainted nightmare. Maybe you’d fallen asleep. You were so tired you must have just passed out but you weren’t waking up.

You spun around and ran into the small hallway that led to your door. You were caught from behind, pulled back by the nape of your blazer as Sam tutted. His arm went around your waist and he lifted you off your feet. He turned and carried you back into the front room. You kicked and writhed as his strength enwrapped you.

“Please, please,” you begged, “I… I don’t understand. This isn’t-- this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t--”

“Baby girl,” he cooed as he brought you close to the couch, “be good and listen to your Captain. Now stop this.”

“No, no,” you gulped at air as the panic rose in you, “I never-- please, you don’t have to do this--”

“You gotta do what I say,” he snapped and flung you onto the couch, “I don’t want to make you.”

You looked at him as you trembled in fear and disbelief. This couldn’t be. He was Sam Wilson, the Captain America; he was a nice guy.

“You have one minute to get naked,” he said and you just gaped at him, “you gonna make me repeat myself?”

Your throat tightened as his dark eyes bore into you. His hand balled to a fist and finally you found an ounce of strength. You pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and slipped out of your blazer. You stood carefully and watched him cautiously. You had to look away as your hands quivered over the buttons of your blouse.

You turned and folded your shirt over your blazer. You could hear him behind you as you unbuttoned your pants and pushed them down your legs. The question of what you were doing flitted through your head but the fear pulsed through you and took over.

“Ah,” he sighed and you peeked back as he freed himself of the top half of his stealth suit.

You turned back and hesitated. You knew there was more, you knew what he wanted, but your body locked up as your fingers curled and your insides knotted.

“Let me get that,” he came close and his fingers tickled along your shoulder blades and he unhooked your bra, “hmmm,” he let go and the cups fell off your chest, “almost there, baby.”

He stepped back and you shuddered. You dropped your bra and hooked your fingers under your panties. You wiggled them down a little at the time and heard the intake of breath as you pulled them down entirely. You stood still, unable to move, too mortified to face him.

“Come on, baby,” he said, “get comfortable.”

You inhaled and turned slowly. You went to the couch as he shed his undershirt and added it to the pile atop his shield. He looked at you and tilted his head as he licked his bottom lip. He snarled as he took in the sight of you and pointed you to the couch.

You sat and hugged yourself as he stripped off his pants along with his boxers in a single swipe. You flicked your eyes away as you glimpsed his hard dick as he stood straight and you stared at the open window. You smushed your lips together in horror and held in the tide of tears.

He came closer and you tried to tune out the room. This couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t. You felt his hands on your knees and he urged your legs apart. You resisted for a moment then let him guide your limbs. It would be over sooner if you just let it happen.

He knelt on the floor as his hands kneaded along your thighs and framed your vee as he leaned over your lap. You winced and he kept your legs from closing as he pushed his body between them. His thumb grazed your folds and he pushed between them. You let out a hushed gasp as he swirled around your clit.

“See, it’s not so bad to be good, is it, baby?” he purred, “you’re wet already.”

He slid his thumb up and down and spread the wetness along your cunt. You were shocked and humiliated by your obvious arousal. You shouldn’t be turned on by this. Your body was not listening to your mind, it was obeying his touch.

“Mmm,” he hummed as he turned his hand and poked along your entrance with one finger.

He pushed inside and you clenched around his intrusion. He pulled in and out and added another finger. Your nails clawed at the cushion and you pressed back into the couch. He kept his thumb on your clit as he worked his fingers inside of you and the tension clustered between his fingertips.

“Oh, baby, listen to you,” he bet forward and replaced his thumb with his tongue as he kept fingering you.

You turned your face up to the ceiling and squeezed your eyes shut. You bit your lip as the ripples radiated from your core and your breath hitched. His hand moved faster as he suckled at your bud and his free hand groped your chest blindly. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you came, your back arching as you pushed into him.

He teased you through your climax and pulled away only as you quaked and whined at his unyielding touch. He drew his fingers out of you and sat back to lick them clean. You peeked down at him and quickly away as his eyes blazed back at you.

“Up,” he stood and stroked himself shamelessly as he strode around the coffee table, “put your hands on there.”

You rose unsteadily, legs shaking beneath you as your entire being felt like jelly. You went to him and turned your back to him. You bent over and he grabbed your ass and squeezed with a growl. You gripped the table and hung your head as the cool air grazed your cunt.

He shoved his hand between your legs and rubbed you again. He stepped closer and bent his knees as he lined himself up with your entrance, sliding in between his fingers as he spread you wide. You choked as his tip poked inside and he eased himself inch by inch into you. He held your hip as he reached his limit and groaned.

“Baby, oh god damn,” he thrust so that your whole body jerked. It was painfully delightful. Of the few men you’d been with, he was the biggest, or at least the thickest.

He rocked slowly and a moan escaped your lips. Despite the torturous pressure of his intrusion, you could ignore the pleasure laced in the pain. His hand brushed up your as and along your back. He bent over you as his fingers curled over your shoulder and he pressed his body to yours as he fucked you.

You kept your head down as you tried to measure your breaths and the pathetic noises rising from you. He pushed his hand down your stomach and between your legs again to play with your clit. He moved his legs against yours and forced them together so your cunt hugged him even tighter. He grunted and you whimpered as his fingers added to the new pressure.

He sped up so that the table scraped against the floor but kept you up with one arm around you. He rutted into you wildly as his sultry voice filled your chest and his heat consumed you. You cried out as another orgasm swept through you and your cunt quivered around him desperately.

He pulled you up suddenly so you stood on your toes. He tilted into you as he brought his arms up around yours and tined his fingers behind your head. His flesh slapped yours loudly and you opened your eyes as you heard a familiar whirring. The drone flew before you, the signature on its shell, but a light blinking at its nose. Yours didn’t have a light.

“What--”

“Ah, yeah,” he rasped through rampant breaths, “looks like they got mixed up.”

“Huh--” you sucked in your breath as he thrust harder and deeper.

“I didn’t mind, he helped me keep an eye on you,” he said as he nuzzled you above his hands, “you look so cute in your little tee shirts.”

You groaned and leaned your head against him as another rush of fear was met with unwanted bliss. You murmured senselessly as he picked up his pace and the drone came closer. He purred as you felt his muscles tighten.

“Don’t worry,” he puffed, “I’ll make sure the boy knows he was right.”

He buried himself in you, nearly taking you off your feet, and twitched as he emptied himself into you. He rocked his hips subtly as he rode out his climax and stilled you as his voice gristled to rampant pants. His arms fell to embrace you and he kept you flush to him as he lingered inside.

“Or I can keep that little video to myself…” he brought his hand up to cradle your chin and poked his finger along your lower lip, “it’s all up to you, baby.”

#sam wilson #dark sam wilson #dark!sam wilson #one shot #sam wilson x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #tfatws #falcon #captain america #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #avengers

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simonalkenmayer · 2 years

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Okay, well I guess this one is technically philosophical, maybe.

I'm not great at analyzing media I enjoy for larger themes/deeper meaning and context, and it's a skill I'd really like to gain- I'm quite jealous of all those video essayists and people like you, who are just able to put two and two together. I've tried just sitting down and getting started, but I just draw a blank. What would you reccomend to grow this ability?

Thanks, and I hope you have a pleasant night. Your presence on this site always brings a bit of joy to my dash, it's nice knowing you're always there in the background, it's a level of stability and kindness that's just very good.

Thank you! That is all I have ever wanted to be.

The best way to begin is to pick an interest. Something you feel emotionally linked to. This gives you the passion to pursue. So, once you have the topic, go through and watch every single media outlets coverage. There’s an impressive archive. Once you’ve seen how they talk about it NOW, go back. Once you’ve can see what their opinions were for the last 30 years, then the patterns pop out. And yes they’re always relevant, because the world has a relative memory span of about fifty to seventy years before it cycles through the patterns. Let’s do one tiny thing, for example.

Let’s pick….eyelashes. I know. I know! It’s a silly thing, but currently the eyelash industry is multibillion dollars a year. That’s a lot of capital in the hands of who knows who, and their mission currently is to aggregate wealth into absurdity. Never mind all that. It’s a different pattern. Focus on eyelashes. Learn about the metal irons women used to curl their lashes back in the Victorian. Learn about the first mascara and how it blinded a woman. Learn about the false lash and mascara industry and the cityhrpat nature of the business. Learn what people seem to think about lashes. How has media discussed them? Now, then. What stories are being told. Is anyone acknowledging who invented false lashes and why?

Everything is connected. Make charts comparing portrayals. Look for repeated phrases across broadcasts. Look for buzz words, jargon, unfinished sentences. Look for those things, and then you’ll see. And you’ll see how it connects to everything else. Paradigms of femininity and misogyny, conspicuous consumption, false body images, ableism, economic concerns, economy types, and on and on.

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pagesfromthevoid · 2 years

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Hi Cressida hope this finds you well. I feel like I need someone to talk to tonight.

I recently started writing fics (haven’t published them yet) and it was going pretty well. I was just doing it to discipline myself into siting down and writing everyday not just when I feel inspired.

But then I entered it into this website where they check for grammatical errors and stuff and the algorithm basically said my writing was far below undergraduate college level - which is what I am.

I’m a journalism minor in college and none of my professors have ever said anything bad about the quality of my writing.

Now I’m so self conscious about it and don’t want to post it al all :(

The way I look at writing is like leaving a finger print, we write because we have something specific to say— everyone has something unique to say that cant be replicated but damn.. below college level?

Writing techniques are different for different media and since I only actually write for my journalism class my brain is in journalism mode almost all the time, I took broadcast journalism last semester and it completely wreak havoc on my style because when writing scripts we follow the “mom rule” it’s basically writing the way you talk and keeping the scripts under 90 words. It was so hard to learn and it looks like it’s going to be even harder to unlearn.

I’m not even going to go into how negatively this all affects my research writing skills. I’m confused and sad I don’t know what to do.

P.s I adoreeeeee the fluidity of your work 🥰

Oh honey. I’m glad you felt like you could talk to me; I really do understand how you feel. Let me start off by saying that by even sitting down and writing everyday, you’re miles ahead of a lot of people. Posting your stories online isn’t a requirement; it’s anxiety inducing! I don’t blame you for being worried to. However, I bet it’s not nearly as bad as you think it is. Those websites are far from great. Writing style is very much personal, even with grammar.

I’m an English teacher; grammar is one of the hardest parts of writing to teach, in my experience. And it’s not heavily focused on by curriculum because they want kids to focus on more comprehension and analytical skills. So by the time my students get to me in middle school, they struggle with it. It’s not unusual at all.

But you brought up an excellent point about your writing: writing for different media changed how you wrote. You adapted to follow what is going to help you be successful. Your professors haven’t said anything because they don’t see it as being “below college level” because for you, for your field, it’s not. In my experience, any college professor who deals in writing anything will tell you if your writing is bad. They just do.

I find that the more you read, the more you mimic how your favorite author’s write. I tell this to people all the time. If you’re reading news bulletins, you’re going to mimic how they are written. If you read YA fiction regularly, your writing will mimic that. For a long time, I wrote very similarly to how Twilight was written because that was the media I consumed when I started writing. As I got older, my media consumption changed and so my writing changed.

I wouldn’t let it negatively impact your research skills, because you’re in a field where you’re constantly researching. If any one of your teachers felt you were bad, they would have absolutely told you. Maybe reach out to one and ask them if they have any specific feedback about your writing. Those grammar sites are helpful but without meaningful explanation behind the scores, you’re not going to learn anything.

You’re more than welcome to send me things you’ve written as well, and I can beta read and see what you mean. That way I can also try to explain and help you if I can!!

I’m glad you reached out to me, again. I’m by no means a professional writer but I’ve been doing this for 12+ years so I do understand the stress you’re feeling 100%

#I’m not trying to sound like patronizing so please tell me if I come off as such #I just care a lot about this problem 🥺

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celestesenvironmentalpanic · 3 years

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Blog Post #1:Too Much and Not Enough Blame Being Placed on Individuals

First Entry 9/14/21 (Edited 9/23/21)

Many of the environmental studies journals and articles we read today focus on the role of the individual in reducing their carbon footprint. There is some validity to this assertion, as noted by the theory of the Tragedy of the Commons, while individual action in itself seems futile the collectivity of individual’s behaviors are what in large part contribute to the use and decimation of natural resources (Miller and Spoolman 2021,10-11). However, I think that far too often, we shift the blame of climate change and resource depletion onto individuals as opposed to the larger entities which are responsible for creating the choices provided to individuals, as well as for an even more significant amount of carbon emissions.

When analyzing the varying responsibilities of individuals vs larger corporate and government entities, it is overwhelmingly clear that organizations, not individuals, are responsible for emissions. According to the Carbon Majors Report, just 100 corporations are responsible for 71% of emissions (Riley 2017). Additionally, according to a study done by Brown University, the US military alone (not including the country) has a larger carbon footprint than many industrialized nations (McCarthy 2021).These studies provide a stark reminder that no matter how many take out containers one recycles, no matter how many times one opt for travel on foot as opposed to more carbon-intensive modes of transportation, or how many bottles of “Love, Beauty, and Planet™” shampoo you buy, ones efforts prove futile in comparison to the environmentally destructive practices of many corporations.

One may argue that corporate carbon-emitting activity is only generated in response to the demand from consumers, and that if individuals really want to generate real changes within these corporations it comes down to their consumption. However, the idea that individuals have any control over the demands of corporations is ludicrous. Individuals are going to buy what is accessible and affordable to them. And corporations are currently mostly going to create products that generate a profit at a minimal expense. I believe that the only way to generate change among individuals is by forcing corporations to change their practices and products, through legislation and economic sanctions. Contrary to what a CEO of a major company would want you to believe, the price difference created by the transition from unsustainable to sustainable products is negligible, and could be covered by the cost of that CEO’s 15th yacht.

On the topic of a CEO’s 15th yacht, if we are going to be emphasizing individual action I believe we need to start with the actions of the individuals within the global .0001%. I’m not talking about the individuals who generated enough wealth to ensure a comfortable life for themselves and their families. I’m not even talking about the individuals who live in Luxurious Central Park S apartments and spend most of their time golfing while their investment banker generates even more wealth for them (although they definitely aren’t off the hook). I’m talking about the individuals who, in the midst of a global pandemic, wildfires raging the west, and record rains pummeling the east, chose to have a galactic d*ck measuring contest just for seven minutes of barely breaching the surface of the atmosphere (and in the process generating an exorbitant amount of unnecessary carbon emissions). These are the men who, while their companies profit off of “sustainable” products whose uptick in demand is generated by environmental panic of consumers, and while encouraging individuals to live more sustainably, are sitting in their corporate lairs laughing at our panic and continuing to, emissions-wise, destroy our atmosphere and air quality with their private jumbo jets and their separate yacht just for their helicopter (News18 2021)

Don’t get me wrong, I believe that the actions of individuals are important. In fact, the only way that we are going to be able to make a difference is by overwhelming collective action of individuals pressuring their local, federal, and international legislative bodies to actually pass legislation regulating corporations and forcing them to take accountability for their actions, as well as to reallocate funding from the carbon-intensive defense industry and towards climate mitigation. But I am just tired of feeling guilty for enjoying a hamburger every once in a while when it is so overwhelmingly obvious that the people who are most responsible for climate change and the degradation of our air and water quality are the people who seem to care the least. It’s time for governments to force them to take accountability and stop taking handouts from these CEOs to fund their political campaigns.

Word Count: 753

Works Cited

Desk, Trending. “Jeff Bezos to OWN Mega Luxury Yacht Worth $500 Million That Has a Support Yacht AND HELIPAD.” News18, May 11, 2021. https://www.news18.com/news/buzz/jeff-bezos-luxury-yacht-support-yacht-helipad-amazon-millionaire-3725993.html.

McCarthy, Niall. “Report: The U.S. MILITARY Emits More co2 than Many Industrialized Nations [Infographic].” Forbes. Forbes Magazine, June 30, 2021. https://www.forbes.com/sites/niallmccarthy/2019/06/13/report-the-u-s-military-emits-more-co2-than-many-industrialized-nations-infographic/?sh=401151df4372.

Miller, G. Tyler, and Scott Spoolman. “Chapter 1 The Environment and Sustainability.” Essay. In Living in the Environment, 10–11. Boston, MA: Cengage Learning, 2021.

Riley, Tess. “Just 100 Companies Responsible for 71% of Global EMISSIONS, Study Says.” The Guardian. Guardian News and Media, July 10, 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/sustainable-business/2017/jul/10/100-fossil-fuel-companies-investors-responsible-71-global-emissions-cdp-study-climate-change.

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sunsetmaiden · 3 years

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Thinking about the wave of sex work positive people, and this like glamour it seems to have in a lot of media and while I support sex workers and am sex positive, like.... The conversation is leaving out the majority of sex workers, whom I work with on a daily basis, and their lives are not glamourous. I don't wanna see any think pieces or whatever about any conventionally attractive and/or alt white women / white femme centered NB folks engaging in sex work because they "want to" while the reality is that most swers are survival sex workers at the street level or are women and girls whom are being trafficked. Like....I don't think we can truly have and celebrate sex work as a career choice until survival sex work is not a thing. And that is not going to happen until the decriminalization of all illicit substances. I see it every night at work, all night long. Every woman I serve has engaged in survival sex work at some point if not every day. We need to be having these hard discussions, this needs to be the focus. Why do these high profile sex workers who are out there fighting for destigmatization not talking about this? They paint it in one light as being empowering and etc. while leaving their sisters behind and throwing them under the bus or sweeping it under the rug. What is the purpose as to why these women don't have other options? For the most part, it's because of substance use. So we are looking at substance use, harm reduction. And we are looking at why women use substances, and that goes back to trauma and gender based violence. And of course this is effecting women from the global majority more so than privileged white women, especially our trans sisters and those that are Nb. No ifs ands or buts about it. In order to be able to truly support these survival sex workers we need decrim, we need mental wellness supports. I don't understand why....this is not happening. City of Vancouver's decrim platform is decades behind were it needs to be, like it's a start and so much more progress than others. I mean the non profit I work at has opened the very first supervised consumption site that is only for women, 2S, trans, and femme centered NB in the entire of North America, or even the world? I think. That's progress but we need to get further. People are so ignorant. They have no idea. Eyes wired shut, they just don't care or want to see it. Because if they truly saw it all for what it was it would make them sick, and they would feel powerless and therefore they just look away. But I'm out there, in the metaphorical trenches. It's draining me a bit. I wanna scream. Anyway. I meant to write more cohesively and will do that at a later date. Just a few thoughts for now.

#re: work #sw

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bizarrelovesquare · 4 years

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Hello, it’s Evie, and this is my new account!

brief explanation under the cut so I can get it off my chest, but it’s not required to read <3

I realized over the last several months that I did not like being perceived the way I was online, and that I have the power to just walk away and start over on a smaller scale and avoid anything I don’t want to be part of. In July, with no warning, I cleared out and abandoned/deactivated any accounts around the web that didn’t make me happy. All I have now are this, pinterest, ao3, and a new private twitter just for close friends.

Being online had come to feel like an expectation, no longer something for recreation, and most of it wasn’t fun. It honestly had been feeling that way for awhile, but I reached the last straw when I briefly got involved with a fandom on twitter (yuck) several months ago that was absolutely horrid. I realized what a mess it all really was, I finally snapped, and I got the hell away from everything and everyone.

It was easy to leave other sites because there was so much that I wanted to escape from--the hostility and toxicity, people’s dumbassery, the feeling of not being adequate enough as an artist, the pressure to get constant interaction, feeling like I was being watched all the time by hundreds to thousands of people who didn’t care about me as a person, etc. Social media was too much for my introvert self. However, I was on the fence about what I wanted to do with tumblr, so I sat on it for two months and mulled it over. I actually love this site because it’s mostly chill and has the best format, it’s creative, and it’s easy to avoid anything you don’t want to see, but I just didn’t love the baggage that I had on my old blog. I’d been on there since 2013 and had grown and changed a lot, particularly over the past year, and there was so much way back in there that didn’t represent who I’ve come to be, and it honestly made me feel stuck, even after I tried changing my url, giving that blog a makeover, and being more myself.

Several years ago, I spent an ungodly amount of time on this site trying to appeal to others, instead of letting myself just exist authentically and showcase all of my personality. I got fandom popular pretty early on, and for a long time, it made me feel like it was my duty to post about the things that got me popular and make original posts that my heart wasn’t even halfway into, worded in a way that would get notes. Keep in mind, I was younger and dumber when doing that and had nothing else going for me at that time (it was a low point in life). I definitely grew out of that mentality, but I couldn’t get away from all the posts I’d made that I no longer cared about that wouldn’t stop getting notes and the reputation I had developed for being known for a particular thing. I felt like there were too many followers who weren’t really there for me as a person or any other niche interests of mine, and it was really holding me back from just posting what I want and as much as I want, even after I quit caring and tried to just present as the real me. I knew it was my blog and it didn’t matter what others wanted, but I think the main thing was that I felt held back by my older ways of using tumblr, and I realized that I don’t want anything from that period of my life still attached to me. I didn’t know who I was back then, so I defined myself by an obsession. These days, I want people to see me as a whole person with a real life who just happens to also really like some things.

On top of that, again back when I was several years younger and at the lowest point of my life, I used to vent way too much about negative things in my personal life that don’t matter anymore, and even though I went through my archive and deleted them all, even though I know nobody else remembers them or is looking at them, I still knew that they happened, and I didn’t want that energy to keep following me. There was also evidence of ex-friendships and relationships I’m not proud of, ways I acted that I just don’t vibe with now, and just too much I remember that didn’t represent current-day me, and I want to actually break the connection to those memories. So with all of that, I decided I’d feel best to remake and start fresh. I got away from negative feelings everywhere else, so why not here, too? Any posts on the old blog that I love can eventually be reblogged over here. I’m going to curate a fresh new gallery of things I love, while feeling at peace about the whole thing.

My life is nothing like it was years ago. I’m actually happy with myself and my life and have been for nearly a year now. I know who I am now. I’ve healed/am healing from a lot of personal things. I have budding careers in everything I love and am working towards my dream life. I’m not ashamed of anything about myself. I still have bad days sometimes, but I don’t live in my misery. I like being positive and want to stay that way as much as possible.

I also never really let me show myself as a creator as much as I would have liked before, and I want to focus more on that from now on. As far as fan content goes, I’ve gotten back into writing fics and am no longer scared to share them. I’ve been working more on cosplay this year than I have in years. I also want to try to get into making gifs. Additionally, I am a writer (fiction and non), photographer, and aspiring designer in real life, so some original work might show up now and then, too, if it’s something I’m really proud of. I also want to post about mental health and recovery. My blog will still have plenty of fan content, but I want to sprinkle in some other things that are important to me as well.

I just want to be in a quiet peaceful corner among good people. Lately, I’ve realized that I want my life to be as lowkey as possible, both online and irl. I just want to vibe and do my thing for myself, surrounded by a few good friends. I learned way too late that fandoms are hell if you branch out too far, and that I also hate being in the spotlight, even in regards to things I create. I don’t exist for the consumption of others, and that’s such a freeing thing to realize. Anything I post/rb is solely because I want it on my blog; I don’t care what happens to it after I put it there. I post for me, I make my art for me (and sometimes my jobs), and if my friends enjoy it, and if I make new friends along the way, that’s awesome! But impressing everybody is just not a thing I can nor want to do anymore. You don’t have to run yourself ragged trying to spread yourself across the internet, whether as a fan or a creator. If a site was to disappear, what do all those likes and followers mean? Absolutely nothing. At the end of the day, all you have is you and how YOU feel about yourself, so spend your time on here (or anywhere, really) existing for you, first and foremost.

I’ve gone back to my very old internet days of not trying to impress anyone, while combining that mentality with the wisdom and sense of self that I’ve gained with age. Maybe you won’t be able to tell a difference, but I’m the one living in my head, and I definitely can tell that I’ve grown, a lot in my life has changed, and I am much more confident in myself, and I want to have a blog that 100% feels like me and has no bad associations attached. I’m not the first person to make a new account and won’t be the last. Things like this are supposed to mostly be FOR FUN, and too many people these days have gotten away from that. Don’t feel like you have to keep living up to some reputation that was built years ago, and don’t feel like you exist for others. Be yourself, embrace changes as you grow, do what’s comfortable and healthy for you and makes you happy, and the right people will like you for that. The most important of them being you. <3

#evie's diary

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lovely-tennant · 4 years

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This is about not posting but also a bit personal psychoanalyzing my own actions and a bit ramble-y

I feel like I’m leading new followers on into thinking it’s a active blog when it’s not really... I feel sometimes like I have to just because I have never been popular person, on social media or in general, i’ve never been the person that makes an account somewhere and gets 2k followers in a week, actually in the first year or two this blog was 200 followers max i think and I would make tons of edits which I spent hours on and be happy everytime someone did like them... actually it’s only gained traction when I was kinda over it but it did get bigger than anything I ever did on tumblr or elsewhere so I got motivated to continue.

While I do appericate David Tennant and support his acting career in general I haven’t kept track on his shows for quite awhile and fankly only reblog cool posts when I see them, which isn’t that often since most of the people I used to follow, mutuals and friends are not even on this site anymore and I have not kept up with the fandom to actually see if there been new blogs in the last couple of years. What I’m trying to say, while I do post sometimes, tumblr dot com have stopped feeling like a home or a community to me a long time ago, and I’ve been trying to actually re-engage to not avail, maybe it’s my fault maybe it isn’t but what I do feel is that I’m forcing myself to go on do what made me happy 7 years ago does not actually fit the lifestyle I want to have now. I do no longer feel good sitting that many hours infront of a computer no matter the activity.

In 2 months this blog will turn 8!! This is mindblowing to me. While this is not the kind of posts you usually see on tumblr I did want to share what’s been going on inside my head with you. Running blogs and keeping up with social media became more of a chore than leisure and when I see people still enjoying this blog I force myself to try to be active, but honestly? I’m not very happy with my life and I do plan to spend less time watching tv, movies and be online to and finding new hobbies, because honestly the currect hobbies makes me feel like i have no character that isn’t related to consumption of media and entertainment.

Will I stop posting? maybe. Maybe next week everything will go back to the same routine IDK. but really i’m just letting my thought flow as I write them down with no actual planning or speciefic point in mind. I do feel like I owe everyone for their support (while I’m a common fangirl blog and not a celebrity)

(this line could also be TL;DR) - for the time being I plan to focus on finding who I am without the things I am was hyper-focusing on and finding different hobbies. I do pop on tumblr but not really for fandoms anymore... if you want to contact me for any reason, you are welcome, althrough I do not log in daily I do check this site even when i do not post on any of my blogs

-b.

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wellesleyunderground · 3 years

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Wellesley Underground Interview with Founders (Sara Hess ‘08 and Shavanna Calder ‘08) of Feminist Fashion & Beauty Magazine, MUJER!

Need a break from the politics? Dive into the making of Issue No.2 of MUJER! Magazine. Interview by Camylle Fleming ‘14.

1. Wellesley Underground (WU): Tell us about the origin of MUJER! Magazine and bring us up to speed on the November launch.

Sara Hess ‘08, Editor in Chief: MUJER! has been a long time coming for us. Ever since Shavanna and I were swapping clothes from each other’s closets when we were roommates at Wellesley, we’ve had an interest in fashion and over the years we’d often played around with the idea of doing a fashion related project together. MUJER! came about in late 2017 when I had reached a point of being really frustrated with fashion magazines (all of the ads and the Photoshop, the lack of any real content and focus on hyper consumption). I also was disappointed to see that several of the fashion bloggers I’d followed over the years and enjoyed for their authenticity were following the same route as they transitioned from blogs to Instagram and started posting highly stylized Photoshopped pics that were all sponsored and very phony. Finally, I had recently turned 30 and it then occurred to me that I was older than nearly all the models I saw in the major fashion publications, which is insane when you think about it. I told Shavanna what I was thinking of doing-- a feminist fashion and beauty mag, all models 25+, no Photoshop on their faces or bodies, more racial and ethnic diversity, a focus on more sustainable production and consumption and no ads. Shavanna is an amazing stylist and has a great eye for design so I was super excited when she agreed to be creative director. I was living between Mexico City and New York at the time. I had developed some contacts in the fashion industry in Mexico and really admired the fashion scene there, which is one of the reasons we went with the name MUJER! It took us about 6-7 months to produce the content for the first print edition which was published in September 2018.

2.WU: How did fashion and beauty become sites of contestation and rebellion for you two?

Sara: I grew up in a small town in rural Pennsylvania and was constantly getting in trouble for breaking the dress code at my public school. It’s ironic because I was definitely a major nerd-- not your typical rebel. In junior high, I was really upset to find out I had not been accepted to the National Junior Honor Society. I asked one of my teachers why and he told me that it was because the shorts that I wore to school were often too short. Honestly, it was not my intention to be risque. I was just awkwardly going through puberty and had legs that were too long for my body and it was impossible to find shorts that were long enough and didn’t look dorky. After that, I went through a punk rocker phase, where again clothing is a form of rebellion. I was totally into the early Gwen Stefani punk looks. I would get picked on a lot by classmates but then a few months later everyone would be wearing what I had been wearing before, which would be my cue to change styles because I never wanted to look like everyone else. For me, it became a way to stand out and to push back against conservative influences.

Shavanna Calder ‘08, Creative Director: I can’t say that I’ve thought of fashion for most of my life as a site of rebellion. I just wore what I liked and (especially as a kid) what was on trend.

I had hip surgery 5 years ago and have struggled to be able to wear heels after that. In some ways that forced me to rethink how to dress for formal situations (without heels). Though I am working towards wearing heels again through physical therapy (my profession requires it), I’ve found a certain level of pride in showing other women that we can still look dressed up/professional etc. without wearing heels. Also embracing flatforms has been fun!

I think beauty, more so, has always been a site of contestation and rebellion for me as a Black woman. Growing up and having hair that was different than most of my friends. Makeup and hair supplies that we had to drive an extra distance for. Reading different magazines than my friends because teen vogue (at that time), seventeen etc never catered to me (thank God for Essence). Now, being natural, my hair oftentimes is a point of rebellion/contestation as I educate and ask for the things that I need as a Black artist instead of accepting the burden of sitting in silence.

Founders Shavanna + Sara (above)

3. WU: On social media, you’ve discussed the initiative of “showing women as they actually exist in the world”. Can you describe some of the images you two grew up with and how they are in conversation with MUJER!

Shavanna: In some ways growing up when I did, I feel like I did get to see images of women (more often) without photoshop and a ton of contouring etc because that just wasn’t on trend. It’s one thing I miss about the early 2000’s. That being said, the rest of the content oftentimes centered around ways to get men, look flirty etc etc. For us I think “showing women as they actually exist in the world” goes beyond imaging to the content of the magazine (the stories and issues that are discussed) as well as the lack of harmful ads encouraging women to alter their bodies by buying certain products etc. We are able to highlight a diverse group of female identifying folx and the complexity of us instead of the monolith that I often see portrayed.

4. WU: What are the ways in which your Mexico City base contributes to the core principles of MUJER!

Sara: Mexico City is just my heart and soul. I don’t know how else to describe it. It makes me turn to mush as though I’m talking about someone I’m in love with. The creative and design scene here is out of this world funky and unique and I really feel that I can wear anything going out here at night. People are elegant and cool and put a great deal of thought into how they present themselves. The fashion scene is authentic and fun and nowhere near as pretentious as it is in other parts of the world. We try to reflect this creativity and sincerity in MUJER! as well.

Shavanna: Additionally I’ll say that people have really embraced us there. There is an openness, flexibility and sense of collaboration that has made it super easy to throw any ideas we have out there and run with it (more than I’ve seen in other parts of the world).

5. WU: For those of us who are new to publication production, can you walk us through the steps of creating content, finding models, artwork, all without the filler of advertisements?

Sara: We are also new to magazine production, ha! We started by basically bringing together people we knew from the fashion world here in Mexico City. I have a dear friend, Jenny. She’s a stylist from Sweden and was working on the sets of reality shows here so she kind of kicked me into gear to do the first beauty shoot. She had a lot of experience doing shoots so she helped me get a great photographer and scout a location and models. We’ve really been blessed with meeting all of the right people at the right moment. We found a wonderful lead graphic designer, Celina Arrazola who happened to know the neighborhood where all the printers are and was an expert in hand binding books. Advertisements were never an option so we self-finance the production, which was and is intense.

Shavanna: Yes, as Sara mentioned we’re incredibly new to this and are (honestly) still figuring a lot out as we go. However, generally we come up with ideas/stories together that excite us, that we haven’t seen in other fashion magazines. We then reach out to female identifying folx to help us realize these ideas (because we want to support female entrepreneurs as well). The hardest part will be figuring out how to make it sustainable (and take the more of the financial burden off of Sara) and we’re in the process of sorting that out the best way we can!

5a. WU: Okay, same question. Add COVID, go:

Sara: Now, because of COVID, our plans to do another print edition were derailed so we decided to do a digital edition-- everyone featured sent in their own photos and instead of printing we created a PDF version of the magazine, with Celina’s excellent graphic design of course.

It essentially made printing the way we did with the first edition impossible. That was a very manual process that involved visiting the printer in person multiple times and Celina handbound the magazine, with me struggling to be useful to her by folding the pages. This time we went all digital.

Shavanna: In addition we had to become creative since we could no longer conduct shoots or interviews in person. Everything was done via email (except for Sultana’s shoot which happened pre-COVID). All other photos were submitted by the women in the issue. Whilst I missed many aspects of being in person, in some ways the challenge allowed us to lean in to our mission of showing women as we truly are. It also allowed for us to have a remote intern via Wellesley which was awesome!

6. WU: How do you want to grapple with the plurality of feminism(s) in the pages of the magazine?

Shavanna: By being truly intentional about seeking out diverse voices. By celebrating those voices and by taking our readers feedback to heart. Outside of the folx who are interviewed or featured in our magazine we attempt to employ women in the creation of the physical product as well (design, photography etc). The end result is something that has been touched by women from various parts of the world and from different walks of life.

7. WU: Can you share the story of how the magazine gained its title? How do you respond to any pushback and claims of appropriation from Latinx individuals for your usage of the word “Mujer”?

Sara: For starters, we were founded in Mexico City and at least half of our readers are native Spanish speakers. The publication, like many of its readers, is also bilingual. For the interviews and articles that are originally done in Spanish, we leave them in Spanish, only translating key quotes into English and vice versa for pieces that are originally in English. The title is also a global call to women that goes beyond the English-language paradigm.

8.WU: The fashion and beauty industry can carry both an air of superficiality and apoliticism. Tell us what people get wrong about the experience of working within it.

Sara: I think this is hard for us to get into because we are not really working in the fashion and beauty industry-- we are working parallel to it and trying to pick the piece we enjoy while also creating something new and different for women that makes them feel empowered, not inadequate.

Shavanna: Yes neither Sara nor I really work within the industry (nor have we prior to the magazine). I’ve worked as a stylist from time to time, but that’s about it. For the most part we’ve been consumers who were unhappy with what we were consuming and figured we could do something about it.

9. WU: In an effort to not over-glorify the value of success and “making it”, let’s talk about failure. Can you share with our readers what went wrong in the process of producing MUJER!?

Sara: Before our Chilanga shoot, Shavanna and I got horrible food poisoning. Like, nearly had to go to the hospital.

Shavanna: Yes we were living on pepto bismol and had just started eating plain bread and pasta the day of our shoot, but we powered through! Honestly this magazine has felt like a contribution to society that we were meant to be a part of, so despite obstacles that have come up, we know that we can’t be sidetracked.

10. WU: How do you react to the “self-care” trend and it’s correlation to the consumption of beauty products? Relatedly, how do you two take care of yourselves?

Sara: I’m an introvert who fakes being an extrovert, but I definitely know I need alone time so I try to make space for that. As of late, I try to use more natural/ organic beauty products and just less of everything period. Also sleep. Sleep is so important. Finally, I’ve decided I will deal with drama in my professional life because I feel like that’s where I’m making a contribution that’s important but I try to minimize drama in my personal life as much as possible.

Shavanna: I try to take care of myself by reminding myself that rest is ok and necessary (so hard). Practicing my faith/meditation. Asking for what I need. Going to therapy (physical and mental health). Exercising. Connecting with loved ones (friends and family). Being kind to myself.

11. WU: As a follower of your Insta page, I find myself lingering on your original posts, staring into the faces of the individuals you capture. It makes me realize how my brain has been trained to see the same faces featured in public spaces, so much so that they’ve become invisible. Can you share the favorite photos that you’ve captured and why they stand out to you?

Shavanna: My favorite photos are of Wellesley alumna Solonje Burnett. I’ve always admired Solonje’s fearlessness and creativity and I think we truly captured her essence in these. Though she is beautiful, the interview is about so much more and highlights her as the complex, multifaceted woman that she is (instead of just her beauty routine or what her house looks like).

12. WU: What does the day in the life of an Editor-in-Chief look like? How about a Creative Director?

Shavanna: We’re very collaborative. I don’t think we really have hard and fast rules as to who does what necessarily as much as it’s a partnership. One of us will propose an idea (in between juggling the rest of our lives) and we’ll discuss pros and cons and greenlight what works best and aligns with our values. We also just hold each other accountable. Right now there isn’t a typical day in the life as well just because we both have other jobs (though it would be amazing for Mujer! to continue to take off in a way that allowed us to devote more time to it).

13. WU: Both of you currently have worked with higher education institutions (Harvard + NYU). Can you tell us a bit about your “day jobs” and the types of opportunities they have afforded you in relation to the Magazine?

Sara: While I was working at HBS, I co-authored a case study on Monocle magazine which has helped to inform some of our thinking around the business model for MUJER!

Shavanna: I worked for almost 7 years at NYU, first at Stern and then within the Faculty of Arts & Science. In terms of opportunities? I’d say actually, for me, anyway the two aren’t related. My time at NYU influenced my acting career more so than Mujer! by giving me some flexibility and certainly financial stability.

14. WU: Lastly - a question you ask your features in the upcoming digital issue: how have you been gentle with yourself during this time?

Sara: Uff, I have been eating a lot of ice cream and taking breaks when I need to. I turned off the New York Times news alerts on my phone. I still read the news everyday but this has helped a lot.

Shavanna: Uff indeed. Hm sometimes I remind myself that the fact that I’m functioning is enough. This quote from Audre Lorde has been getting me through: “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”

Working out and going for walks, journaling, therapy, being in touch with my spirituality, limiting myself on social media (or at least certain groups or accounts), listening to my body in terms of what it wants (whether that be food or change of environment). Talking to friends when I have the energy always brightens my day and constantly reminding myself to take things one moment/day at a time. This is all incredibly hard and I’m grateful to those who have been gentle with me when I struggle to be gentle with myself.

Check out the MUJER! Covid-19 digital issue here: https://www.mujerrev.com/mujer-sale Given the increase in domestic violence and gender based violence around the world during the pandemic, a portion of the proceeds from the issue will go to two organizations helping womxn that are survivors of domestic abuse and human trafficking: Women of Color Network - Blue Lips Campaign and El Pozo de Vida.

MUJER! Homepage: https://www.mujerrev.com/ MUJER! Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/mujerrev/

#wellesleyunderground #wellesley college #mujermagazine #fashion #beauty

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mrsq8geek · 4 years

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Advice for an aspiring author hoping to write lgbt muslim characters?

Hi, thanks for your question! This is quite the rabbit hole, so I can't cover everything, but I did my best. Some general guidelines and then my own view:

1. Do not write this story unless it is from personal experience or with the direct express written permission from the person it’s based on, and I hesitate with that second one. Like many other experiences, this story hasn’t been told all that often, so unless you’re one of the above, you don’t have many points of reference and will probably get it wrong and, I suspect, as ‘exotic’.

That said:

2. Start by examining yourself. One of my favourite resources is @writingwithcolor, which has many great references for this. At this point, we're asking questions such as "Why do you not want to represent us?" and "Why do you need to tell this story right now?" among others. Do check it out.

3. Please, please don't write an apologetic acceptably assimilated model minority. I don't know where you're from, or where you intend to set the story, but we're all influenced by American media, so I feel it's important to mention. We generally don't have positive feelings towards those characters, let alone relating to them, at least not to the aspects where they're supposed to represent us.

(My personal pet peeve example is Abed Nadir from Community, a Muslim enamoured with Christmas and is an all-around Acceptable Arab... played by an Indian actor. It's extra irking because the show was touted as being Better Than Big Bang Theory, and it seemed okay addressing many other nuances, but when it came to this? Think of it this way: why didn't they cast an Asian actress to play Britta or Annie and called her white? Or, indeed, an Indian actress to play Shirley and called her black? Because clearly they believe the audience can't tell the difference? Arabs are black or white but not brown, guys. Not all Arabs are Muslims and vice versa. Some Muslims are (gasp!) white.)

Anyway, the point is Abed, and others like him, are non-threatening. They reject their own identity and are desperate to be Just Like Us Default White People. While this is definitely the case for some people, 1. it's not the case for most people, 2. it's just a really tired trope especially in current times, and 3. the other side of this trope’s coin is that in order to be acceptable for The West, they have to rebel against their character’s original identity, which is just as tired.

But I digress. You already know by asking this question that it’s controversial. Why not play it straight instead? Pun unintended. Do your research, whatever way you choose to go.

4. Speaking of doing your research, do. your. research! Muslims are a diverse group of about 2 billion people*. There are two major sects and many smaller ones. In the major ones, homosexuality (etc) is a sin, haram, full stop, end of sentence. Any level of presenting like the opposite gender is not only haram, it’s cursed. Yes, there are many people coming up with exceptions and loopholes, or just doing what they want regardless, and if you want to write about them, that's your prerogative, but:

* so Kamala Khan, for example, is completely unrelatable to me. (See: 9)

5. You know what else is considered haram in majority Islam? Extra-marital sex. Pork. Alcohol. Drugs, yes including cannabis, in fact even nutmeg. People do all that anyway! Especially in non-Muslim-majority countries where the laws don’t make it harder for them, or in poorer Muslim-majority countries where people don’t get educated in religious matters, or indeed all over everywhere because not all people of any religion actively practice that religion. It's a non-issue by this point.

5A. The only reason LGBT Muslims is An Issue, and it’s An Issue Now, is because America’s making it one. It’s no different than, say, modern white feminism. They stir the pot, we deal with the mess.

5B. Muslims are people, and people aren't perfect. We know this, and we've addressed it as nauseam… and that’s just it, we’re allowed* to talk about these things because we know ourselves and our experiences. It’s more acceptable coming from us to us because we have a common ground to start discussing things.

* I wrote allowed, but it really depends on the situation. Sometimes you’re not allowed simply because you don’t want to make it an issue, and that’s okay too.

5C. Since you’re asking, I’m assuming you’re not a Muslim yourself, and that puts a layer on scrutiny on you. We don’t know where to begin to talk to you, and it’s worse if you represent us in any controversial way or in any way less than perfect. Less than perfect by whose standards? It depends. Nobody knows! (See: 3)

5D. Examine yourself, research the topic, and know just what you’re trying to say.

6. That said, here’s my personal take on it that I’d love to see someone do, but haven’t so far. I don’t know how people arrive at their sexuality, whether it’s by nature or nurture, but they do end up there one way or another. When it comes to Islam, you’re highly encouraged to (heterosexually, to be clear) marry and reproduce. You’re discouraged from sex outside that framework. If you are unable to marry for whatever reason, you’re supposed to find a way to deal with it. Fasting is often recommended.

And the way I see it, finding yourself not being attracted to the opposite gender is just one reason to not marry. “So I NEVER get to have sex?” Yes, just like your straight brothers and sisters who realize they can never marry for their own reasons. Maybe their health prevents them. Maybe they have family depending on them, especially financially, and they realize can’t add a husband or wife into the mix. Maybe they’re incompatible with the person they wanted.

The West worships Romantic Love (also money, but that’s another thing), but it really isn’t everything in life*. Just see any post here on tumblr dot com discussing the different kinds of love the Romans acknowledged and wrote about extensively. Yes, it’s a powerful drive, but again, it’s not the only thing in life, and coming to that realization is its own journey.

* (Something something Harry Potter)

I am so, so sick and tired of characters who don’t practice their religion (“hi, I’m Muslim/Jewish/Christian/Hindu/Buddhist/whatever, but I will have that pork, that beef cheeseburger, whatever”*), and equally tired of characters who are the personification of their religion (“hi, I’m religious, hear me act out my stereotypes”). Don’t get me started on characters who exist just so the authors can bash that religion.

* a recent disappointing example was the show Crazy Ex Girlfriend. When Rebecca is first introduced, I was excited to learn the show was about a Jewish character, finally a religious character portrayed as practicing! But it was quickly revealed they were focusing on the cultural aspects, and not only is she non-practicing, she doesn’t even believe any god exists. Snore. In contrast, see: Shepherd Book from the show Firefly. Not just a practicing Christian, an actually interesting character in his own right. Not a perfect person by far, but someone who’s doing his utmost to live his life and still maintain his faith.

I want a Muslim character who finds themselves attracted to whomever, someone from the same gender or whatever you want, or feeling like they want to present as not their birth gender, and then proceeds to do what so many of us real-life Muslims do: find ways to deal with it and come to terms with it. Acknowledge it and make peace with it. Make the choice, the conscious decision, to remain faithful to their beliefs and maybe not pursue a romantic relationship with the other person… and instead interact with them like a human being they care about. Help them reach a goal or achieve a dream, keep them safe from harm, something. Maybe focus on the traits of the other gender that are accessible, or fight the toxic effects of the patriarchy, something. Writing like “a happy ending == they end up together”, and any and all other outcomes are Bad and Tragic and Void, is boring and unrealistic.

Just as a black woman being soft and feminine is a rebellion against the mainstream, a religious character sticking to their faith above all else is way more interesting than yet another character breaking the rules.

Addendums:

7. “But Islam is homophobic?” No, Islam has rules against intentionally engaging in specific behaviors. You’re not faulted for having low alcohol tolerance, you’re faulted for the act of consumption. You’re not faulted for being addicted to drugs, you’re faulted for making the decision to try it the first time, or if you were tricked into it, for not trying to get clean once you’re there. However! People, all people, hashtag not just Muslims, often try to enforce rules by creating fear and hatred around them. It’s a convenient societal shorthand, even if the consequences can be different than intended. It’s the same mechanism that leads to “abstinence = zero sex ed” in the US. Abstinence isn’t the issue, people trying to enforce it by making information around sex opaque are the ones causing problems.

So some Muslim people end up homophobic, and some Muslim people go all in the other direction, because the balance is delicate and difficult to find.

8. “LGBT stories aren’t just about sex, what about asexuals, transsexuals, etc?” True, but most LGBT stories tend to go in that direction, and I’m keeping it as broad as I can here.

9. Even if your character is Muslim but not Arab, it’s probably going to come up, in your research if not in your story. Although the most populous Muslim nation is Indonesia and the most famous “Muslim” terrorists are Afghani, the most prominent Muslim sites are in Saudi Arabia and Palestine. The branding is there. With that in mind, required reading is the film Reel Bad Arabs, and any primers you can find on Orientalism, Colonialism, and Imperialism.

***

Honourable mentions:

Check out the Saudi series Masameer by Myrkott on YouTube, many episodes have subtitles. They recently made a movie and it's on Netflix internationally! You can't escape American Imperialism any more than you can escape British Colonialism*, but we're all way past being enamoured by them. The Emirati series Freej is also in Youtube, sans subtitles, though the DVDs have them, and I’ll leave it at that. Hashtag quarantine let us catch up on shows? Stay safe, stay home.

* she said, in English.

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