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winterhawk-olympic-bang · 2 years

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Here is our first 2022 Writer Workshop post, written by @drgrlfriend. Have a read and then head over to the Discord Server where we have a channel for you to take part in a discussion based on the post, with chances to share your own ideas too.

Character Development/Character Arcs

Guest Poster: Dr. Girlfriend

When I first started writing fanfiction, I stuck to a pretty standard three act structure. The characters meet, they form a relationship, and then together they confront and defeat a Big Bad.

Over time, the Big Bad got more perfunctory and started to feel almost tacked-on, and then I realized that ultimately a lot of times I wasn’t interested in including one at all. But what, then, creates a satisfying story and conclusion?

For me, I realized that the key to the story I wanted to write was character development, and the “Big Bad” is something within the character that they need to either come to terms with or overcome.

This is not to say that you can’t write a good fic with an external obstacle (pandemic keeps them apart, they have a mystery to solve, they don’t know they are soulmates, they are from rival crime families, a misunderstanding makes one of them think the other is in a relationship already, etc.), but most of the time, in my recent fics at least, it is something within the character that is preventing the relationship from progressing. Until the character overcomes that obstacle within themselves, the relationship cannot progress.

So, when you’re developing your characters, what can this be? Pretty much anything that prevents people from moving forward successfully in a relationship. Some examples might be:

Depression

Fear of intimacy

Trauma

Insecurity

Self-sabotaging behaviors

Negative patterns learned in childhood

The character can overcome their obstacle individually, or with the help of the other character, or they could each be overcoming their own issues in a parallel way.

Another thing I’ve found to be helpful is to think about how your character’s greatest strength is also their greatest weakness. Do you love a character because of their loyalty? Maybe they give their loyalty to the wrong person, or are blind to someone else’s faults. Maybe they are so loyal that they become downright uncomfortably ruthless when their “person” is threatened. Do you love a character because of their strength? Maybe in order to be strong they have repressed parts of themselves. Maybe their definition of strength means not relying on other people or even trusting other people. Marvel actually does a pretty good job of this in canon — Steve Rogers’ stubbornness is his defining trait, for better or worse. Tony’s futurism saved his life but he doesn’t know when to put on the brakes. Thinking about what appeals to you about the character, but then how the extreme of that trait may play out negatively in the character’s environment or close relationships, can be a good start.

For recent fics, I’ve found it helpful to put the character arc right at the top, as a kind of “touchstone” for where I want the story to go.

For example, this was at the top of Freedom’s Reach:

Clint’s character arc — he learns to ask for what he wants not just what he thinks he can get, knows his worth

Bucky’s character arc — he opens himself up to someone, lets himself need someone, realizes he has a lot to offer

E.g.: Bucky: “People have intrinsic value!”

Clint: “Sounds fake but okay.”

Clint: “I would choose you even if I had infinite choices!”

Bucky: “Sounds fake but okay.”

If you have this character arc in mind you have already “built in” an emotionally satisfying ending! All you have to do is have the characters start in one place, defined by the obstacle, and end in a completely different place (hopefully together), defined by the success of overcoming the obstacle.

Freedom’s Reach starts with Clint desperate and alone — betrayed by his brother and the circus folk. It ends with Clint feeling secure and happy, confident in Bucky’s love. Similarly, the fic starts with Bucky alone in his empty house, isolated from his friends and leading a joyless existence. It ends with him happy and affectionate, socializing not just with Clint but with the wider world.

So, now you have your point A and your point Z, but what about all the points in between? First, ask yourself this question:

Maybe time alone is all the characters need to decide to be together now, but in a story like I’m describing usually there’s something else — they have to make their way further along the path of character progression to be at a point where they can have a successful relationship.

To be fanciful, I think of the path from A to Z as being paved with brick and mortar. First, let’s talk about the bricks.

Once you have the character arc, you have to translate it into actual events. You can’t just say in narration, “Clint used to be insecure, but now he realizes his worth — hooray!” To use the old cliche of “show, don’t tell” — you have to demonstrate through events what overcoming the obstacle will actually look like. Here are my character arcs again, this time with specific events I brainstormed that would represent points along the journey:

Clint’s character arc — he learns to ask for what he wants not just what he thinks he can get, knows his worth

forming friendships (Widow, etc.)

realizing he has value beyond his usefulness to others

standing up to Barney

culminating in asking Bucky to keep him

Bucky’s character arc — he opens himself up to someone, lets himself need someone, realizes he has a lot to offer

lets Clint see him in a vulnerable state (in pain after nightmare)

pushes himself out of his comfort zone in order to make Clint happy (using his words, going to the dance)

talks about Andersonville, which early in the fic it is made clear he never does

culminating in asking Clint to stay and saying he’ll follow him if he doesn’t

Next, to construct your Character Arc Pathway, you need to set these bricks in place with the “mortar,” which is the character’s state of mind. You first have to establish their beginning state of mind to make it clear what their obstacle is, and then over time you need to show that their state of mind is changing.

Let’s use some examples in Freedom’s Reach. First, there are Clint’s thoughts that show how desperate and alone he is:

He lies down on the rickety cot, suddenly exhausted. He’s used to scraping by, but it’s always been him and Barney, scraping by together. Even before the circus, when they were kids catching and eating rats to fill their bellies, they were in it together. Clint squeezes his eyes shut but the tears are already welling up.

He’s been trying not to think about it, trying to focus on just surviving, but at times like this, when he’s too tired to keep the thoughts at bay, they overwhelm him.

Bucky starts out as a less reliable narrator. He’s in a “I’m fine, everything’s fine, I am happy here behind the walls I’ve constructed from my own trauma” state of mind. For him, it requires an outside character to point out that his life is not as peachy as he is trying to pretend it is:

“It shouldn’t have happened this way,” Steve agrees. “But Bucky, I just wanted to show you that there’s more out there than you’re considering. I don’t like to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

Steve sighs. “Bitter. Withdrawn. Like you’ve given up on anything good ever happening to you.”

“I like my life, Stevie,” Bucky says wearily. He’s said it hundreds of times, but Steve can’t seem to get it through his thick skull.

Steve pushes up on one elbow. “What you’re doing here — it isn’t living. It’s just waitin’ to die.”

As the fic plays out, you want to see the characters slowly adopting a new mindset, through both thoughts and actions.

Clint starts the fic basically not familiar with the concept of intrinsic worth. Because it’s what he’s experienced so far, he feels that people only want him around because of what he can provide to them, and that the moment he stops being useful he’ll be abandoned. So, how do you make that kind of mindset clear?

First, Clint’s train of thought — in every situation he immediately tries to think how he can make himself useful:

And Clint is young, and healthy. He’s a hard worker. It must be difficult, having only one arm. Maybe the man just wants someone to do for him, help out with simple things he can no longer do on his own.

He covers up his hearing loss because he perceives it as a weakness that will lead to rejection:

“Do you think I should mention my poor hearing?”

“Perhaps — perhaps that’s something you could save for when you meet in person. Just in case,” she finally decides.

“Oh. Yeah, of course.” Just in case it makes him not want you, is what she means, and she’s probably right.

He panics once he realizes that he does not have skills that are useful in the situation he ends up in:

This all seemed so possible when Miss Lewis was helping him, but now she is all the way in Philadelphia, and he is here, and James is — James is not at all what he expected. James is not even James, he’s Bucky. In Clint’s imagination James was homely and poor and kind and desperate for companionship, but Bucky is handsome and rich and brusque and he doesn’t want Clint at all.

When Bucky points out the Clint has low expectations, Clint doesn’t even seem to understand what the alternative is:

“How come you don’t think about what you actually want, just what you think you can get?”

Clint doesn’t understand. What point is there in thinking about things you want? Nobody gets what they want.

And ultimately, when pushed to the breaking point, he comes right out and expresses this philosophy:

Clint’s expression flattens, a muscle clenching in his jaw. He looks away, flushing, his hands balling into fists before he shoves them into his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “What do you think anyone is, except for whatever use other people make of them?” he finally says, his voice sharp.

Even when Bucky flat-out tells Clint that his worth doesn’t depend on his usefulness, Clint can’t come to terms with it. He interprets it through the lens of his mindset, which is that he has to be even MORE useful.

You shouldn’t put your value in what other people want from you, Bucky had said. The words just don’t make any sense to Clint. What value does he have, if it’s not his skill with a bow, or his strong back, or his ability to bring someone pleasure in bed? It’s like Bucky is speaking a foreign language, setting some standard that Clint can’t even comprehend, let alone reach.

He clenches his jaw, firming his resolve. He’s got no one to rely on but himself anymore, and it means he’s just got to be better, is all. He knows for sure now that Bucky is attracted to him — no one can fake that. He just needs to find something to offer Bucky beyond his body, something that makes him worth having around long-term.

He just needs to be good enough to keep.

So how does Clint’s mindset change? First, he realizes he has more to offer people. He develops friendships outside of the relationship (e.g. with Natasha and Wyatt Wingfoot) that aren’t given in exchange for any skills or usefulness.

Next, he realizes that Bucky wants him around even when it is inconvenient. Even when he fails at household chores, or brings on the extra burden of Lucky, or Barney shows up to bring chaos, Bucky stands by Clint.

With a little bit of security at his back, Clint starts to realize that he is worth more than he’s been told. He has made true friends in the town, and he realizes that Barney is no good for him. Ultimately, despite misunderstandings, he asks for what he truly wants, and he gets it. He’s not with Bucky because he has no other options. He recognizes many other options he has, but he chooses to ask Bucky for his love, and receives it in return.

In the meantime, Bucky is progressing along his own path. When the fic starts he is disconnected from his friends, taking solace only in his work. He’s cut himself off from a lot of the little things that used to bring him joy. He has trouble expressing himself, and that slows things down considerably because he is not good about conveying how he feels. He tries to communicate with Clint through actions — accommodating his hearing loss, reading to him, buying him a bow. Clint reintroduces him to some of the things in life he didn’t realize he was missing, but for the romance to be satisfying they both have to convey that they are choosing the other person specifically, and not just out of convenience. So, Bucky finally finds his words and can tell Clint what he loves about him — a level of explicit explanation Clint, in his insecurity, requires. All the things he starts the fic saying are good enough to make him happy in his life — his house, his job — are things he’s willing to leave behind for Clint.

A final note about “satisfying” endings. It may be tempting to think that solving all a character’s problems results in a happy ending. Someone wins the lottery, and all their financial concerns disappear! They have a wedding and a baby and live happily ever after! There’s a few reasons that these endings are not really as satisfying as they may seem on the surface.

First, to be truly satisfying, an ending needs to be earned. You need to see how the character’s actions directly resolved the problem and led to their changed circumstance.

Second, endings are often most satisfying when they allow the characters to live on in your head in the way you got to know and love them. If you end a fic with everything completely different, it can also feel unsatisfying. You want to leave the characters at the next logical step, better than they were, but not completely changed or untethered from their prior circumstances.

Recommendations for fics with central themes of character development:

Clint Barton’s Super Secret Sniper’s Club by @captn-sara-holmes

Like Real People Do by @kangofu-cb

Starving for the Light by @thepartyresponsible

Superior by @teeelsie-posts

Choose Every Single Day by @noxnthea

Symbiotic by @lissadiane

Play it Again by @sakkakitty

#whob #winterhawk #winterhawk olympic bang #2022 #writer workshops #writer workshop: characters #guest posts #drgrlfriend #discord event

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ghcstvalleychief · 2 years

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Looking at all of your asks so far makes me realize now why so many people were upset with Ep 8 of KP calling it a filler ep and upset that they “wasted” a episode that could have been perfectly used on that one couple 🥴 or that could have been used to developed the story further ……?

But what surprised me was the fact that some “KP” fans were upset too. And I was like, I want more of their lovey dovey sweet scenes and I wanted more deep conversations between them, call me cliche but I wanted those moments where you get to know your partner and what they love and what they hate. Their favorite drinks, meals, places to visit & many other stuff. So I was actually so happy to see some of it on Ep 8 and I was so taken aback by the fact that a lot of people were genuinely upset. Also a lot of people on TW are very verbal and explicit about certain scenes or how they wanted more NC scenes and proceeded to detail you what they wanted and it’s 😐. Like I enjoy a good scene and I read some ao3 stuff so I’m not like completely against it and I don’t think it’s bad to write your horniest thoughts it’s just that there are other sites made to do this , what made me even more uncomfortable was the fact that sometimes they would tag MA or literally write stuff about them under their posts. There are certain lines that as fans we shouldn’t cross. The fiction to reality is the main one, add to this the whole thing where they asked that one fan that saw mile if a girl was with him, the accusations towards Po having a thing with that guy. At the end of the day what these people want is for MA to fulfill some type of fantasy, and trust and believe that even if one of them turned out to be queer but not in a relationship that satisfies their fans those same fans would be the first to turn their backs on them, which is the saddest thing of all bc you would believe that having people that ship you with another male they would be the first people to support you if you were Really in a relationship with another Man. All I know is that even tho this is fucked up it is what the Thai industry caters too ( and I’m new in this) but seeing as to how companies have their actors do so many things to sell that illusion to fans is just messed up, and on top of that I may be wrong so correct me if I am but I’ve seen some famous CP’s with at least one underaged/ slightly of age partners and those are the ones that put me off the most, but apparently are the ones that appeal to people the most and the difference is very big from 9 to 12 yrs of difference between them which I find so disturbing. Oh wow I went off tangent but yeah MA were the first ones to really grab my attention and until then I will be supporting them fully. Together or individually they have my heart.💕

The BL fandom is garbage. It's full of children who have a Peter Pan complex who somehow are incredibly obsessed with the sexual behavior and fetishization of gay men at the same time. It's a very interesting dichotomy because these two things are not alike. At this point, no one can convince me that these fans aren't contributing to and supporting the fetishization of these men. I can't be convinced. Based on what I've seen and how the people in this fandom respond when you talk about it, these people are absolutely guilty of all of this. These people are foaming at the mouth and weak in the knees at the idea that they're getting to see two men engage in softcore porn. Like, they're losing their minds at the idea that they're about to see something like that and we're supposed to believe this isn't fetishization?

Honestly, I knew this place was weird when I saw people counting down the days until Barcode turned 18 so they can ship him with Jeff. Now, that is incredibly weird and disturbing. I absolutely judge people who do things like that because that's just downright disturbing and predatory. Why are you counting down the days until a minor turns 18 anyway? Why are you so excited for them to suddenly become 'legal?' Why is that even a thing in your mind? All it tells me is that you've always had impure, inappropriate thoughts in your mind about said minor and now you can legally tell the world about them because there's no fear of backlash anymore.

All I know is that I want MA far, far away from the entire BL industry as a whole. Just move on from it and only deal with mature dramas and opportunities, because a lot of the things I've seen from this fandom in general are sick. As someone who's in the minority of LGBT+ people in this fandom, it's not a good feeling to be surrounded by cishet people fetishizing gay people. It's an icky, gross feeling because you just know they don't care about your wellbeing out there in the real world where it actually matters and when it actually counts. Plus, these actors are not here to satisfy whatever weird fantasy these fans have. This is why people look down on BL dramas as a whole. Not because they're elitist and pretentious, but because the industry itself promotes this weirdness and the fans eat it up by supporting the industry that does it in the first place. It's like I've said before - why would the BL industry stop producing this type of content when the fans have already proven they're supportive of it? Why would they stop producing this type of content when the fans have proven that they don't actually care about the story just as long as two mildly attractive men are pushing the boundaries of these sex scenes by engaging in borderline porn? They don't care about the sole female characters in these shows being villainized and demonized. They don't care about literally anything else, and the BL industry is going to keep it coming.

#anonymous #answered asks #I know some people don't like to talk about MA moving on #however; both of them are old enough & have loftier ambitions than to stay stuck in an industry that would limit their talents & vision #apo wants to do more producing and behind the scenes work #and mile doesn't mind the entertainment thing but we know he's picky about the things he will do #we know BOTH of them are networking & willing to take on projects that allow them to meet people outside of the TV industry #obviously their goals are clearly something completely different from their contemporaries #and I highly doubt either one of them are going to continue down the BL route #that's the great thing about them being on the upper end of the age spectrum in regards to the BL industry #their age allows them to know when to move on & move past the shallow depths of the BL industry #call me pretentious; it doesn't matter #it's all low brow garbage

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broadwayandnetflix · 3 years

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Done - Bo Burnham x Reader

Warnings: Language

Request: can you make like something where bo gets mad and no fluff just pure angst

Theme: ANGST.

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: y’all I am so sorry about this one. but the lovely @asi-42 requested this and I really hope I delivered with the angst! more fics coming soon!

How do you help someone who’s crumbling in front of you? How do you help them when they want nothing to do with you?

Or at least that’s what it felt like when you were dating Bo. You felt clueless, and the idea of helping him with whatever he was going through just didn’t seem doable.

His temper was heightened, and exhaustion practically clung to the man. It stuck to his hair, his ragged clothes, and his heart. You wanted to wring him of it all, pull him close, hold him tight.

Except, it didn’t seem like he wanted that, or not from you at least. That damn guest house making it seem as though the man was a million miles away from you.

Even when he was inside the shared house, his eyes never quite reached yours, his shoulders often tensed and uncomfortable. It broke your heart into two, seeing him pull away from you.

You had asked him what he wanted, what he needed from you. What you could do to help him, but all you would receive was silence.

Deafening silence.

Those once adoring blue eyes that used to be reserved for you, and only you. Now faded, dull, and drained. It made you hurt in ways you didn’t even know you could break.

But nevertheless, you loved him. Without question, you did, and of course, he loved you. He just had to be tired of you, tired of whatever thing you two were doing.

You wondered what you had done, what finally set off that flag in his brain. Did you lose your appeal? Did he find something else to bring him joy?

It definitely wasn’t that special that he was working on. Or maybe it was. You weren’t sure, but with each morning he left you to your own devices, you couldn’t seem to shake that thought.

Even at night when you saw the lights flashing through the window shutters, the muffled singing, and the discarded clattering of equipment.

You knew you didn’t stand a chance, that is, until it all went pitch black. Or the guest house did, for that matter.

You had been sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a glass of wine. Sometimes you felt pathetic waiting for something that was never gonna come.

Except you still held your breath, hoping that maybe he’d come in and give you a kiss. Praying that he’d touch you again, give you some form of love and care.

Anything, really.

Yet along with the darkness came the silence. Maybe Bo had used the pull-out bed was your first thought, or perhaps he was coming outside.

Yet still nothing.

That is until you had heard the sounds of what appeared to be muffled cries. A sound that sounded a little bit too real. You felt yourself rise out of your seat before becoming hesitant.

Should you go to him? Or was that gonna make things worse? You sighed. Why did you doubt the man you loved? Everything was gonna be okay; it’s Bo. Your Bo. The man who loved you.

You knocked on the door of the guest house awkwardly, hearing the scuffling of feet and sniffling. It made your heart drop a bit, realizing that it was real.

He really had been crying.

The door opens with a click, and you can briefly see some form of relief flicker in his eyes. Only for a second, as they hardened a bit, back to those lifeless blues that you had grown accustomed to.

“Yeah?” he croaks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Are you okay? I’m just getting worried about you sweetie.” you say, shifting your feet anxiously.

“No, yeah I’m fine. Just go back to bed, I’m just working.” Bo mutters, not even daring to meet your eyes.

“Are you sure?” you pry before his eyes snap up at yours.

“Are you daft? I said I’m fine, now please just let me get back to work please.” he barked, going to close the door.

Except something in him stops as he carefully looks down at you, with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

His figure practically looming over you; he had never made you feel so small. It almost made you jolt, and he had noticed. You could see him soften slightly before rubbing his hands through his hair.

He looked like an absolute stranger to you. This wasn’t your Bo; this was someone else.

Whether it was his hair absolutely disheveled, the bags hanging under his eyes. Or the unkempt beard that held onto his chin.

“I-I think I need a break.” he said quietly, after some time.

You felt yourself lighten up a bit, clearly from the fact that he was potentially putting his project at rest.

Yet his expression told you anything but that. A sigh escaped his lips as he tried to articulate the words to you.

“I need a break from us. I just can’t do this anymore. I can barely take care of myself, let alone you.” Bo’s words hung in the air.

They didn’t mean to hurt you; you knew he’d never intentionally hurt you. Except they did, he broke you.

This didn’t feel real. It certainly didn’t feel right, and you wanted to snap up from your bed. As if this was all some poorly designed dream and that Bo was still in love with you.

Except this wasn’t a dream, and Bo was still in front of you exasperatedly, trying to stand still.

It was like time had stood still, and your body, much like molasses, was stuck to the patio floor. Dwarfed by Bo’s taller figure, who was fidgeting, trying to figure out what to do with you.

“Okay.” you managed to whisper through your fog-like state.

“Okay?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes, Bo, Okay.” you reply matter of factly, the words bitter on your tongue.

His eyes darken just a tiny bit, giving you a flicker of annoyance. Clearly, he’d expected something more from you. A fit, maybe? Anything that would salvage the relationship.

“Fine, thanks for your understanding.” he scoffs as if he couldn’t believe you.

You honestly thought you had it in you too, to fight for the two of you, but much like Bo. The pandemic had worn you out; you were tired. Forcing someone to love you wasn’t on your list of priorities.

You took a step backward, away from the guest house. Away from Bo. Bo watching your every move, analyzing you like a fucking hawk.

It all stung. It did. The idea of losing Bo like this was downright devastating. Once the door to the house closed behind you, it hit you.

Tears stream rapidly down your cheeks as you try to cope with an empty house and relationship.

Bo had grown tired of you. Not his special, not the pandemic, you. Even if he wanted a break, what would happen then? Would he come back and be met with the same realization?

That you were just another box on his long list of priorities? Just being pushed off to the side, so he can check you off when it suits him best.

You placed whatever you could fit into a suitcase that you had used when the two of you went traveling. Your vision blurred with your tears while you tried to flee as quickly as you could.

Did you love him? Of course. Did you want him to be happy? Always. Except, it appeared that you wouldn’t be the person that would help him achieve everything he needed.

You shoved everything you could into your car and started it, giving yourself a second to breathe. Not even noticing as Bo stood by the window watching as you hit the gas and drove away from him, from your relationship.

Not allowing yourself to notice him wondering if he really did make a mistake. If he really did fuck up big this time.

#@broadwayandnetflix #bo burhnam #2021 #bo burnham x reader #bo burnham x you #angst #what #make happy #words words words #inside #Y’all I am so sorry.#this shit is SAD.#fanfic request

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space-city-traffic · 3 years

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yet again im back on my bullshit so... (gazes with mixed feelings at the TV show Firefly) i could fix him.

my extremely long thoughts about my Own Personal Good Version of Firefly (with plenty of spoilers for the show and the movie) under the cut:

things that are getting axed first thing no question:

out with the whole “let’s add in a thin veneer of Chinese cultural aesthetics out of context for ~flavor~” deal. just no.

instead, let’s hire some actors from a bunch of different cultures and work with them to figure out how their characters would bring those cultures into space with them!! and also hopefully bring some experiences with immigration/alienation/travel into it, since the Whole Core of Firefly is about how humanity always brings our doomed and silly and stubborn and unique warmth with us even into the cold void where nothing is familiar or homey in the slightest.

let’s respect our sex worker character shall we?

i do appreciate that Inara’s work as a companion is described as legitimate and well respected in the show. however please stop having your captain and hero call her a wh*re every five seconds against her clearly expressed wishes and portraying this as just a totally acceptable thing

let’s be more respectful of our characters of color and also have some more diversity, shall we?

others have put it better than me but yeah, the way Zoe and Book are treated is very uncomfy, and the rest of the show is depressingly monochromatic. come on let’s do better.

stop the weird confederacy hat tips

again others have pointed these out with much more thoroughness than I could, but the names of some characters and locations, as well as some of the language used to describe the browncoats, has uncomfortably confederate vibes. instead i propose we very Clearly tip our hats to the Alliance equaling space capitalism instead! you can’t go wrong with space capitalism as a villain.

don’t! make! the! psychotic! character! violent!

listen i love River Tam with my whole heart. but you should absolutely not portray your only character with psychosis as violent because of that psychosis!!!!!!! and yeah, a huge part of her character is that her brain got fucked up by the alliance and so she hallucinates and is also a super ninja. but like. she doesn’t need to be a super ninja for her character to work, okay? the crew does not need to be scared of her for her character to work, okay??? more on this later bc it would take a lot of care and nuance to make her character work but i really think it can be done

things we are absolutely keeping:

found family tropes my fucking beloved

this should be self evident. this is why the show is as appealing as it is despite its flaws, at least in my eyes.

malcolm reynolds, the knight in dusty armor

there’s something so appealing to me about what Mal stands for. because at his core is this ridiculous, silly, stubborn, doomed devotion to what he thinks is important and right, a romantic idealism thinly covered by cynical cowboy platitudes that he thinks make his bleeding heart totally invisible. and he is so obvious and entirely incorrect. bless. this is a man who will do anything for his family, who charges into swordfights to defend his friend from a man who wants to turn her into an object despite having no clue how to hold a sword. at his worst, he starts brawls in bars just for the martyr’s thrill of being persecuted for supporting the right; at his best, he inspires downright religious belief from his crew because he represents a romantic and chivalrous and doomed dedication to the right thing over any practical concerns. and then he throws a “selfish” quip over it with 100% confidence that everyone fell for his clever distraction and believes him to be a dirtbag. he’s oblivious and ridiculous and god he makes me want to be a better person because he’s just so goddamned sincere. stupid, but sincere. 10/10 himbo. <3

Mal and Inara ultraslowburn friends to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to friends to...

there’s nothing i love more than a ship that’s just two people who know each other way too well, and they’re each the only one who knows the other well enough to call them out on their bullshit. the way Mal and Inara interact in the show sometimes makes me uncomfy but like. the core of their relationship has to stay.

space western aesthetic

i need the cows on a spaceship scene to stay like i need air okay

that sweet sweet religious shit

mal, who lost his faith in gd and a whole lot else during the war. who lost his faith in himself, and now feels he has to hide the part of him that still wants to be good, because he knows he can’t be anymore, and he feels like it’s embarrassing for a guy like him to want something so unattainable. who takes a preacher on board, and the preacher has lost something, too. the preacher has his own past, and his own questions. but not questions like the observant neurodivergent girl, the one who wants to interact with and understand this thing that’s so important to him, but it just doesn’t click with how her brain works and she feels like something needs to be fixed, either the Bible or herself. and Mal takes care of them all, and slowly, he begins to find gd again, not in a prayer but in humanity. humanity doesn’t need to be fixed, like the alliance thinks. the shining imperfect strawberry sweetness of it in his family’s smiles is something to be worshiped and served and devoted to. and he finds he has something to believe in again. (and his crew find that he’s given them someone to believe in, too. and maybe suddenly he’s a saint.)

and finally, my brilliant ideas as to what i would like to add:

TRANS WOMAN KAYLEE RIGHTS

listen her femininity is so important to me okay? it’s so thrilled about everything that’s pretty, from dresses to the spaceship’s electric innards, and it’s so non-traditional and grease stained until it’s not and it’s pink and ruffly and twirly, and she never sees any of it as a contradiction, because none of it contradicts, it’s all just her! her gender is warmth and love and prettiness, feeling pretty and appreciating the pretty and making her friends’ days pretty too.

i want us to find out she’s trans in that episode with the ball, and i want us to find out alongside Mal who just never asked or never realized. Kaylee gasps and squeals at the dress in the shop window and Mal makes an off handed, ill considered comment, and then... someone yanks him aside and hisses a few very significant words in his ear. and suddenly he remembers what the blue white and pink she painted all over the engine room means, and he knows he has something to make right. so he buys her that dress himself and lets her know just how pretty she looks, and when he walks into that ball with her displayed on his arm like something precious, he looks the proudest out of any man there. and she notices. for a few seconds, of course, until there’s chocolate, and ‘nara, and a chandelier—and some horrible girls, but she’s used to that, until—suddenly, she finds her people. a group of old men who light up when she jokes about compression coils and whack presumptuous boys who ask her to dance. they adopt her as a treasured granddaughter, and Mal is beaming at her like a proud dad, and she finds that one of her new elderly friends gazes a little too long at her bracelet, and so she gives it to xem and teaches xem a few new words, and... it’s a good day, huh? it’s a really good day. (of course, then the captain has to go and punch somebody in the face, but it was a real nice party up until then.)

also she and Simon are both transhet t4t im correct and you know it

time for a better River Tam

the first thing we’ve established is that this version of her is not unpredictably violent and the crew is not scared of her!!!! it makes no sense to take a kid who’s primarily brilliant, experiment on her brain, give her telepathic powers....... and tack on the fact that she also has super strength and speed and dexterity and what not, AND say that they programmed her to be super violent. no! no. not only is that extremely harmful rep, that’s also just stupid.

instead!! my version of River is in fact not terrifying to the crew, but is actually the one they feel safest around. River has always been totally blunt, she was one of those kids you could tell realllllly early was autistic, and she doesn’t like being disengenous at all. so you can always trust her to tell the truth and not play weird passive aggressive games or have any hidden agenda, which makes her just a really chill person to be around. also, one of her longtime special interests is music and dance, so whether or not she’s nonverbal on a given day, there will always be some sort of beautiful sound when she’s around. she does have the singing voice of a dying crow unfortunately but that’s ok bc Simon’s is even worse and they’re both incredibly competitive so you’ll at least get free entertainment out of the affair.

my version of River does have psychosis and hallucinations because of the trauma of the experiments, and they are really troubling to her. she and Simon work together to find ways to cope and meds that help, and it’s a process, but there are some things that help.

the only thing she gained from the academy was the ability to hear people’s thoughts and sense the future a little bit. and yeah, that led to her picking up a few spooky secrets at the beginning, which, yikes. and for a while, it was hard to figure out which voices were real and which were hallucinations. but around her friends, she always feels safe to ask “did you just think about triple cheese burritos or was that just a me thing?”, and they’ll always tell her the truth no matter how embarrassing their thoughts are, bc it’s important to all of them to respect her and help her sort accurately through what’s reality and what’s not. and bit by bit, she gets better and better at figuring out what kinds of things tend to be telepathy and what kinds of things tend to be psychosis, and that each one feels a little different. and because of the trust and respect and support of her found family she’s able to do that in a safe environment!!!

trans man Simon rights

listen i wanted to keep him as just a side note on Kaylee’s list but he is my son and he’s important to my heart so here goes

out on the outer rim where Kaylee’s from, gender ain’t much of a big deal, there’s an individualistic quality to life out there, and so if the trail you blaze is the trail of a woman or a man or neither or both, that’s respected even in the rare cases where it’s not outright encouraged. but in the inner planets, where competition and connections and public faces and family names are everything, you have to be what’s expected of you to survive. you can’t change your brand, you can’t be anything other than what your family planned for you since before you were born, it’s incredibly hard to survive in such a hyper competitive environment, and so your very identity becomes just a tool in how to market yourself for better success.

needless to say Simon (just as autistic as his little sister and also very trans) fuckin hated it there. but he was very good at it. correction: he was very good at his very specific field of STEM, good enough to where people stopped talking about how cute he looked in bows and started talking about how impressive his work was from a very young age. and his work had no gender. he could be whatever he wanted to in equations. so that was where he could express himself, and gd, he got so much praise for it, he never wanted to stop.

not until he discovered that his sister needed him, and ran away, and needed a disguise, and realized... suddenly, every stifling rule and prying eye was a million miles away. he was freefloating, freefalling, with none of the charted paths he’d been following all his life... so you know what? fuck it. he’s always enjoyed the name Simon. and since it’s not on any legal records, it’ll make him just that much more untraceable.

and on Serenity, starting over with new people who never knew him before his transition feels like an unbelievable blessing that just dropped right into his lap. he has to keep up the secrecy, he has to make sure they never find out who he used to be, because gd, it’s so nice when they look at him and say his name right, and he doesn’t know if he can handle losing that, not when it’s so new and so important to the person he’s finally becoming. but then one day, the unthinkable happens, the wanted posters for his arrest have an old name on them, they’re looking for the Tam sisters, and... nothing changes. the crew of Serenity could not give even a tenth of a percent of a fuck, and it doesn’t seem like they even know they’re supposed to. huh. that’s new. Simon could get used to that, he thinks.

i’m sure there’s more i could add, but it’s 4:30 in the morning now, so if more occurs to me, ill simply add it in a reblog tomorrow. if you’ve read down this far, i am in love with you. please let me know your Better Firefly ideas, too, bc im always down to yell about this show!!!

#firefly #Serenity #in which i choke out joss whedon with my bare hands and rescue his characters and give them better homes #ollies fix it series #malcolm reynolds #ollies personal good firefly canon

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xoruffitup · 3 years

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Annette: The AD Devotee Review

So I saw Annette on its premiere night in Cannes and I’m still trying to process and make sense of those 2.5 hours of utter insanity. I have no idea where to begin and this is likely going to become an unholy length by the time I’m finished, so I apologize in advance. But BOY I’ve got a lot to parse through!!

Let’s start here: Adam’s made plenty of weird movies. The Dead Don’t Die? The Man Who Killed Don Quixote? There are definitely Terry Gilliam-esque elements of the unapologetically absurd and fantastical in Annette, but NOTHING comes close to this film. To put it bluntly, nothing I write in this post can prepare you for the eccentric phantasmagoria you’re about to sit through.

While the melodies conveying the story – at times lovely and haunting, at times whimsical, occasionally blunt and simple – add a unique sense of the surreal, the fact that it’s all presented in song somehow supplies the medium for this bizarre concoction of disparate elements and outlandish storytelling to all coalesce into a single genre-defying, disbelief-suspending whole. That’s certainly not to say there weren’t a few times when I quietly chortled to myself and mouthed “what the fuck” from behind my mask when things took an exceeding turn to the outrageous. This movie needs to be permitted a bit of leeway in terms of quality judgments, and traditional indicators certainly won’t apply. I would say part of its appeal (and ultimately its success) stems from its lack of interest in appealing to traditional arbiters of film structure and viewing experience. The movie lingers in studies of discomfiture (I’ll return to this theme); it presents all its absurdities with brazen pride rather than temperance; and its end is abrupt and utterly jarring. Yet somehow, at the end of it, I realized I’d been white-knuckling that rollercoaster ride the whole way through and loved every last twist and turn.

A note on the structure of this post before I dive in: I’ve written out a synopsis of the whole film (for those spoiler-hungry people) and stashed it down at the bottom of this post, so no one trying to avoid spoilers has to scroll through. If you want to read, go ahead and skip down to that before reading the discussion/analysis. If I have to reference a specific plot point, I’ll label it “Spoiler #___” and those who don’t mind being spoiled can check the correlating numbers in my synopsis to see which part I’m referencing. Otherwise, my discussion will be spoiler-free! I do detail certain individual scenes, but hid anything that would give away key developments and/or the ending.

To start, I’ll cut to what I’m sure many of you are here for: THE MUSICAL SEX SCENES. You want detailed descriptions? Well let’s fucking go because these scenes have been living in my head rent-free!!

The first (yes, there are two. Idk whether to thank Mr. Carax or suggest he get his sanity checked??) happens towards the end of “We Love Each Other So Much.” Henry carries Ann to the bed with her feet dangling several inches off the floor while she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders. (I maybe whimpered a tiny bit.) As they continue to sing, you first see Ann spread on her back on the bed, panting a little BUT STILL SINGING while Henry’s head is down between her thighs. The camera angle is from above Ann’s head, so you can clearly see down her body and exactly what’s going on. He lifts his head to croon a line, then puts his mouth right back to work.

And THEN they fuck – still fucking singing! They’re on their sides with Henry behind her, and yes there is visible thrusting. Yes, the thrusting definitely picks up speed and force as the song reaches its crescendo. Yes, it was indeed EXTREMELY sensual once you got over the initial shock of what you’re watching. Ann kept her breasts covered with her own hands while Henry went down on her, but now his hands are covering them and kneading while they’re fucking and just….. It’s a hard, blazing hot R rating. I also remember his giant hand coming up to turn her head so he can kiss her and ladkjfaskfjlskfj. Bring your smelling salts. I don’t recommend sitting between two older ladies while you’re watching – KINDA RUINED THE BLATANT, SMOKING HOT ADAM PORN FOR ME. Good god, choose your viewing buddy wisely!

The second scene comes sort of out of nowhere – I can’t actually recall which song it was during, but it pops up while Ann is pregnant. Henry is again eating her out and there’s not as much overt singing this time, but he has his giant hands splayed over her pregnant belly while he’s going to town and whew, WHEW TURN ON THE AIR CONDITIONING PLEASE. DID THE THEATER INCREASE IN TEMPERATURE BY 10 DEGREES, YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT DID.

Whew. I think you’ll be better primed to ~enjoy~ those scenes when you know they’re coming, otherwise it’s just so shocking that by the time you’ve processed “Look at Adam eating pussy with reckless abandon” it’s halfway over already. God speed, my fellow rats, it’s truly something to witness!!

Okay. Right. Ahem. Moving right on along….

I’ll kick off this discussion with the formal structure of the film. It’s honestly impossible to classify. I have the questionable fortune of having been taken to many a strange avant-garde operas and art exhibitions by my parents when I was younger, and the strongest parallel I found to this movie was melodramatic opera stagings full of flamboyant flourishes, austere set pieces, and prolonged numbers where the characters wallow at length in their respective miseries. This movie has all the elevated drama, spectacle, and self-aggrandizement belonging to any self-professed rock opera. Think psychedelic rock opera films a la The Who’s Tommy, Hair, Phantom of the Paradise, and hell, even Rocky Horror. Yes, this film really is THAT weird.

But Annette is also in large part a vibrant, absurdist performance piece. The film is intriguingly book-ended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character; and your own role blurs between passive viewer and interactive audience. The first scene has the cast walking through the streets of LA (I think?), singing “So May We Start?” directly to the camera in a self-aware prologue, smashing the fourth wall from the beginning and setting up the audience to play a direct role in the viewing experience. Though the cast then disburse and take up their respective roles, the sense of being directly performed to is reinforced throughout the film. This continues most concretely through Henry’s multiple stand-up comedy performances.

Though he performs to an audience in the film rather than directly to live viewers, these scenes are so lengthy, vulgar, and excessive that his solo performance act becomes an integral part of defining his character and conveying his arc as the film progresses. These scenes start to make the film itself feel like a one-man show. The whole shtick of Henry McHenry’s “Ape of God” show is its perverse irreverence and swaggering machismo. Over the span of what must be a five minute plus scene, Henry hacks up phlegm, pretends to choke himself with his microphone cord, prances across the stage with his bathrobe flapping about, simulates being shot, sprinkles many a misanthropic, charmless monologues in between, and ends by throwing off his robe and mooning the audience before he leaves the stage. (Yes, you see Adam’s ass within the film’s first twenty minutes, and we’re just warming up from there.) His one-man performances demonstrate his egocentrism, penchant for lowbrow and often offensive humor, and the fact that this character has thus far profited from indulging in and acting out his base vulgarities.

While never demonstrating any abundance of good taste, his shows teeter firmly towards the grotesque and unsanctionable as his marriage and mental health deteriorate. This is what I’m referring to when I described the film as a study in discomfiture. As he deteriorates, the later iterations of his stand-up show become utterly unsettling and at times revolting. The film could show mercy and stop at one to two minutes of his more deranged antics, but instead subjects you to a protracted display of just how insane this man might possibly be. In Adam’s hands, these excessive, indulgent performance scenes take on disturbing but intriguing ambiguity, as you again wonder where the performance ends and the real man begins. When Henry confesses to a crime during his show and launces into an elaborate, passionate reenactment on stage, you shift uncomfortably in your seat wondering how much of it might just be true. Wondering just how much of an animal this man truly is.

Watching this film as an Adam fan, these scenes are unparalleled displays of his range and prowess. He’s in turns amusing and revolting; intolerable and pathetic; but always, always riveting. I couldn’t help thinking to myself that for the casual, non Adam-obsessed viewer, the effect of these scenes might stop at crass and unappealing. But in terms of the sheer range and power of acting on display? These scenes are a damn marvel. Through these scenes alone, his performance largely imbues the film with its wild, primal, and vaguely menacing atmosphere.

His stand-up scenes were, to me, some of the most intense of the film – sometimes downright difficult to endure. But they’re only a microcosm of the R A N G E he exhibits throughout the film’s entirety. Let’s talk about how he’s animalistic, menacing, and genuinely unsettling to watch (Leos Carax described him as “feline” at some point, and I 100% see it); and then with a mere subtle twitch of his expression, sheen of his eyes, or slump of his shoulders, he’s suddenly a lost, broken thing.

Henry McHenry is truly to be reviled. Twitter might as well spare their breath and announce he’s already cancelled. He towers above the rest of the cast with intimidating, predatory physicality; he is prone to indulgence in his vices; and he constantly seems at risk of releasing some wild, uncontrollable madness lingering just beneath his surface. But as we all well know, Adam has an unerring talent for lending pathos to even the most objectively condemnable characters.

In a repeated refrain during his first comedy show, the audience keeps asking him, “Why did you become a comedian?” He dodges the question or gives sarcastic answers, until finally circling back to the true answer later in the film. It was something to the effect of: “To disarm people. It’s the only way I can tell the truth without it killing me.” Even for all their sick spectacle, there are also moments in his stand-up shows of disarming vulnerability and (seeming) honesty. In a similar moment of personal exposition, he confesses his temptation and “sympathy for the abyss.” (This phrase is hands down my favorite of the film.) He repeatedly refers to his struggle against “the abyss” and, at the same time, his perceived helplessness against it. “There’s so little I can do, there’s so little I can do,” he sings repeatedly throughout the film - usually just after doing something horrific.

Had he been played by anyone else, the first full look of him warming up before his show - hopping in place and punching the air like some wannabe boxer, interspersing puffs of his cigarette with chowing down on a banana – would have been enough for me to swear him off. His archetype is something of a cliché at this point – a brusque, boorish man who can’t stomach or preserve the love of others due to his own self-loathing. There were multiple points when it was only Adam’s face beneath the character that kept my heart cracked open to him. But sure enough, he wedged his fingers into that tiny crack and pried it wide open. The film’s final few scenes show him at his chin-wobbling best as he crumbles apart in small, mournful subtleties.

(General, semi-spoiler ahead as to the tone of the film’s ending – skip this paragraph if you’d rather avoid.) For a film that professes not to take itself very seriously (how else am I supposed to interpret the freaky puppet baby?), it delivers a harsh, unforgiving ending to its main character. And sure enough, despite how much I might have wanted to distance myself and believe it was only what he deserved, I found myself right there with him, sharing his pain. It is solely testament to Adam’s tireless dedication to breathing both gritty realism and stubborn beauty into his characters that Henry sank a hook into some piece of my sympathy.

Not only does Adam have to be the only actor capable of imbuing Henry with humanity despite his manifold wrongs, he also has to be the only actor capable of the wide-ranging transformations demanded of the role. He starts the movie with long hair and his full refrigerator brick house physique. His physicality and size are actively leveraged to engender a sense of disquiet and unpredictability through his presence. He appears in turns tormented and tormentor. There were moments when I found myself thinking of Conan the Barbarian, simply because his physical presence radiates such wild, primal energy (especially next to tiny, dainty Marion and especially with that long hair). Cannot emphasize enough: The raw sex appeal is off the goddamn charts and had me – a veteran fangirl of 3+ years - shook to my damn core.

The film’s progression then ages him – his hair cut shorter and his face and physique gradually becoming more gaunt. By the film’s end, he has facial prosthetics to make him seem even more stark and borderline sickly – a mirror of his growing internal torment. From a muscular, swaggering powerhouse, he pales and shrinks to a shell of a man, unraveling as his face becomes nearly deformed by time and guilt. He is in turns beautiful and grotesque; sensual and repulsive. I know of no other actor whose face (and its accompanying capacity for expressiveness) could lend itself to such stunning versatility.

Quick note here that he was given a reddish-brown birthmark on the right side of his face for this film?? It becomes more prominent once his hair is shorter in the film’s second half. I’m guessing it was Leos’ idea to make his face even more distinctive and riveting? If so, joke’s on you, Mr. Carax, because we’re always riveted. ☺

I mentioned way up at the beginning that the film is bookended by two scenes where the lines blur between actor and character, and between reality and performance. This comes full circle at the film’s end, with Henry’s final spoken words (this doesn’t give any plot away but skip to the next paragraph if you would rather avoid!) being “Stop watching me.” That’s it. The show is over. He has told his last joke, played out his final act, and now he’s done living his life as a source of cheap, unprincipled laughs and thrills for spectators. The curtain closes with a resounding silence.

Now, I definitely won’t have a section where I talk (of course) about the Ben Solo parallels. He’s haunted by an “abyss” aka darkness inside of him? Bad things happened when he finally gave in and stared into that darkness he knew lived within him? As a result of those tragedies, (SPOILER – Skip to next paragraph to avoid) he then finds himself alone and with no one to love or be loved by? NO I’M DEFINITELY NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT AT ALL, I’M JUST FINE HERE UNDER MY MOUNTAINS OF TISSUES.

Let’s talk about the music! The film definitely clocks in closer to a rock opera than musical, because almost the entire thing is conveyed through ongoing song, rather than self-contained musical numbers appearing here and there. This actually helps the film’s continuity and pacing, by keeping the characters perpetually in this suspended state of absurdity, always propelled along by some beat or melody. Whenever the film seems on the precipice of tipping all the way into the bleak and dark, the next whimsical tune kicks in to reel us all blessedly back. For example, after (SPOILER #1) happens, there’s a hard cut to the bright police station where several officers gather around Henry, bopping about and chattering on the beat “Questions! We have a few questions!”

Adam integrates his singing into his performance in such a way that it seems organic. I realized after the film that I never consciously considered the quality of his singing along the way. For all that I talked about the film maintaining the atmosphere of a fourth wall-defying performance piece, Adam’s singing is so fully immersed in the embodiment of his character that you almost forget he’s singing. Rather, this is simply how Henry McHenry exists. His stand-up scenes are the only ones in the film that do frequently transition back and forth between speaking and singing, but it’s seamlessly par for the course in Henry’s bizarre, dour show. He breaks into his standard “Now laugh!” number with uninterrupted sarcasm and contempt. There were certainly a few soft, poignant moments when his voice warbled in a tender vibrato you couldn’t help noticing – but otherwise, the singing was simply an extension of that full-body persona he manages to convey with such apparent ease and naturalism.

On the music itself: I’ll admit that the brief clip of “We Love Each Other So Much” we got a few weeks ago made me a tad nervous. It seemed so cheesy and ridiculous? But okay, you really can’t take anything from this movie out of context. Otherwise it is, indeed, utterly ridiculous. Not that none of it is ever ridiculous in context either, but I’m giving you assurances right now that it WORKS. Once you’re in the flow of constant singing and weirdness abound, the songs sweep you right along. Some of the songs lack a distinctive hook or melody and are moreso rhythmic vehicles for storytelling, but it’s now a day later and I still have three of the songs circulating pleasantly in my head. “We Love Each Other So Much” was actually the stand out for me and is now my favorite of the soundtrack. It’s reprised a few times later in the film, growing increasingly melancholy each time it is echoed, and it hits your heart a bit harder each time. The final song sung during (SPOILER #2), though without a distinctive melody to lodge in my head, undoubtedly left me far more moved than a spoken version of this scene would have. Adam’s singing is so painfully desperate and earnest here, and he takes the medium fully under his command.

Finally, it does have to be said that parts of this film veer fully towards the ridiculous and laughable. The initial baby version of the Annette puppet-doll was nothing short of horrifying to me. Annette gets more center-stage screen time in the film’s second half, which gives itself over to a few special effects sequences which look to be flying out at you straight from 2000 Windows Movie Maker. The scariest part is that it all seems intentional. The quality special effects appear when necessary (along with some unusual and captivating time lapse shots), which means the film’s most outrageous moments are fully in line with its guiding spirit. Its extravagant self-indulgence nearly borders on camp.

...And with that, I’ve covered the majority of the frantic notes I took for further reflection immediately after viewing. It’s now been a few days, and I’m looking forward to rewatching this movie when I can hopefully take it in a bit more fully. This time, I won’t just be struggling to keep up with the madness on screen. My concluding thoughts at this point: Is it my favorite Adam movie? Certainly not. Is it the most unforgettable? Aside from my holy text, The Last Jedi, likely yes. It really is the sort of thing you have to see twice to even believe it. And all in all, I say again that Adam truly carried this movie, and he fully inhabits even its highest, most ludicrous aspirations. He’s downright abhorrent in this film, and that’s exactly what makes him such a fucking legend.

I plan to make a separate post in the coming days about my experience at Cannes and the Annette red carpet, since a few people have asked! I can’t even express how damn good it feels to be globetrotting for Adam-related experiences again. <3

Thanks so much for reading! Feel free to ask me any further questions at all here or on Twitter! :)

*SYNOPSIS INCLUDED BELOW. DO NOT READ FURTHER IF AVOIDING SPOILERS!*

Synopsis: Comedian Henry McHenry and opera singer Ann Defrasnoux are both at the pinnacle of their respective success when they fall in love and marry. The marriage is happy and passionate for a time, leading to the birth of their (puppet) daughter, Annette. But tabloids and much of the world believe the crude, brutish Henry is a poor match for refined, idolized Ann. Ann and Henry themselves both begin to feel that something is amiss – Henry gradually losing his touch for his comedy craft, claiming that being in love is making him ill. He repeatedly and sardonically references how Ann’s opera career involves her “singing and dying” every night, to the point that he sees visions of her “dead” body on the stage. Meanwhile, Ann has a nightmare of multiple women accusing Henry of abusive and violent behavior towards them, and she begins growing wary in his presence. (He never acts abusively towards her, unless you count that scene when he tickles her feet and licks her toes while she’s telling him to stop??? Yeah I know, WILD.)

The growing sense of unease, that they’re both teetering on the brink of disaster, culminates in the most deranged of Henry’s stand-up comedy performances, when he gives a vivid reenactment of killing his wife by “tickling her to death.” The performance is so maudlin and unsettling that you wonder whether he’s not making it up at all, and the audience strongly rebukes him. (This is the “What is your problem?!” scene with tiddies out. The full version includes Adam storming across the stage, furiously singing/yelling, “What the FUCK is your problem?!”) But when Henry arrives home that night, drunk and raucous, Ann and Annette are both unharmed.

The couple take a trip on their boat, bringing Annette with them. The boat gets caught in a storm, and Henry drunkenly insists that he and Ann waltz in the storm. She protests that it’s too dangerous and begs him to see sense. (SPOILER #1) The boat lurches when Henry spins her, and Ann falls overboard to her death. Henry rescues Annette from the sinking boat and rows them both to shore. He promptly falls unconscious, and a ghost of Ann appears, proclaiming her intention to haunt Henry through Annette. Annette (still a toddler at this point and yes, still a wooden puppet) then develops a miraculous gift for singing, and Henry decides to take her on tour with performances around the world. He enlists the help of his “conductor friend,” who had been Ann’s accompanist and secretly had an affair with her before she met Henry.

Henry slides further into drunken debauchery as the tour progresses, while the Conductor looks after Annette and the two grow close. Once the tour concludes, the Conductor suggests to Henry that Annette might be his own daughter – revealing his prior affair with Ann. Terrified by the idea of anyone finding out and the possibility of losing his daughter, Henry drowns the Conductor in the pool behind his and Ann’s house. Annette sees the whole thing happen from her bedroom window.

Henry plans one last show for Annette, to be held in a massive stadium at the equivalent of the Super Bowl. But when Annette takes the stage, she refuses to sing. Instead, she speaks and accuses Henry of murder. (“Daddy kills people,” are the actual words – not that that was creepy to hear as this puppet’s first spoken words or anything.)

Henry stands trial, during which he sees an apparition of Ann from when they first met. They sing their regret that they can’t return to the happiness they once shared, until the apparition is replaced by Ann’s vengeful spirit, who promises to haunt Henry in prison. After his sentencing (it’s not clear what the sentence was, but Henry definitely isn’t going free), Annette is brought to see him once in prison. Speaking fully for the first time, she declares she can’t forgive her parents for using her: Henry for exploiting her voice for profit and Ann for presumably using her to take vengeance on Henry. (Yes, this is why she was an inanimate doll moving on strings up to this point – there was some meaning in that strange, strange artistic choice. She was the puppet of her parents’ respective egotisms.) The puppet of Annette is abruptly replaced by a real girl in this scene, finally enabling two-sided interaction and a long-missed genuine connection between her and Henry, which made this quite the emotional catharsis. (SPOILER #2) It concludes with Annette still unwilling to forgive or forget what her parents have done, and swearing never to sing again. She says Henry now has “no one to love.” He appeals, “Can’t I love you, Annette?” She replies, “No, not really.” Henry embraces her one last time before a guard takes her away and Henry is left alone.

…..Yes, that is the end. It left me with major emotional whiplash, after the whole film up to this point kept pulling itself back from the total bleak and dark by starting up a new toe-tapping, mildly silly tune every few minutes. But this last scene instead ends on a brutal note of harsh, unforgiving silence.

BUT! Make sure you stick around through the credits, when you see the cast walking through a forest together. (This is counterpart to the film’s opening, when you see the cast walking through LA singing “So May We Start?” directly to the audience) Definitely pay attention to catch Adam chasing/playing with the little girl actress who plays Annette! That imparts a much nicer feeling to leave the theater with. :’)

#Adam Driver #Annette #Cannes 2021 #driverdaily #Annette spoilers

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hrwinter · 4 years

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How about one where Kara turning the tables by flexing her biceps/showing off her back muscles and abs

Lena’s never cared much for tennis. Her family owns some billion dollar thing-or-other, but she hasn’t ever actually made a public appearance or attended a match. Despite her last name being inked on every bright yellow ball, a classic, universally recognizable ‘L,’ Lena’s historically been more invested in completing her engineering PhD. And decidedly less interested in sunlight and hand eye coordination. She does just fine pouring a martini, thank you.

“Lena, you simply must come,” her brother begs one sunny afternoon. They’re lounging poolside at their vacation home for spring break.

“It’s the semi-final of the National City Open. We’re invited to sit in Sara Lance’s box seats, and she’s playing a local.”

Lena shoots her brother a sidelong, maligned glaze. She lifts her scientific journal back up.

“Remind me why we’re sitting in the Swede’s box? Isn’t that a touch anti-American?”

Lex leans across his pool chaise, and Lena blocks his appealing face by turning the page.

“I’ll get you all the RumChata champagne you want. There’s a whole tent.”

Lena’s magazine stays up. She reads the same sentence 8 times.

“Fine, bottle service, a whole booth,” he raises.

Lena hates it when Lex gets this way, she can never say no.

She looks up. “It’s not far from here?”

“Twenty minutes,” he endears, eyes rounded and hopeful.

Lena groans, shutting her journal.

—

The jubilant air of anticipation before the match is more exciting than Lena will ever admit, dead or alive. The massive stadium is filled with a chatter of all stages of inebriation, both quiet and loud. Lance has three other celebrities in her box (she’s a popular player) and even Lena knows who two of them are, which is impressive given the “hobbit cave” Lena lives in at MIT.

“Seriously, I worry about your vitamin-D levels,” Lex mocks, but Lex doesn’t know dick-all about Vitamin D, or any vitamin for that matter. His primary study at Yale was pretty girls.

Currently, her brother is sucking down a strawberry laden glass of Moet & Chandon at the speed of light while charming the Princess of Morocco or whoever.

Lena rolls her eyes, glancing back to the court, adjusting her blocky sunglasses. She’s reaching the first stages of uncomfortably warm, the slight flop sweat forming at her brow under her wide brimmed sun hat most unwelcome. If she gets a sun burn, she’s going to flay Lex alive.

Maybe wearing all black was a mistake.

“Are we going to a wake?” he’d asked before they left. “Are you trying to suck all the light out of the desert?”

If only.

Down on the court, the players do a coin toss and begin to warm up. Lena hasn’t really taken a proper look at Lance’s opponent. It’s another crisply tan, All-American looking blonde. Lena dismisses her as fairly run-of-the-mill until she notices that the player is taller than Lance, taller even than she looked in the match guide. Six feet, maybe? She’s perfectly toned, too. Well-muscled. An honest to god Amazon.

Those arms, Lena thinks, they’re bulky. She can see the line of muscle across her shoulders ripple as she takes her ground strokes. She hits so hard, the ball strikes the strings in a whip crack, and there’s an answering flush in Lena’s body that has nothing to do with the sun.

She misses her drink straw entirely when she goes to take a sip, mouthing at thin air.

“Distracted, are we?”

Lena nearly jumps as her brother presses his face conspiratorially to hers.

“Shut up,” she replies in her imitation best of cool reserve, not taking her eyes off the other player.

She doesn’t need to see the smirk on his face to know it’s there.

Feeling suddenly and infinitely more invested, Lena does some quick research on her phone. How is the game played? How do you win? What’s this player’s name?

Kara Danvers. 22. Up and coming. Won junior Wimbledon. Single.

The only thing more impressive than her serve, apparently, is her thousand watt smile. Her teeth are the blinding white of a tooth paste commercial model.

When the match starts, Lena can’t tear her eyes away. She sits in a monk-like silence. A meditation on the beauty of movement, if you will. Kara breaks Lance’s serve, takes an early lead. She’s about to close out the set.

Lena’s learning all kinds of jargon. Who knew tennis could be interesting?

At the changeover, Lena stows her sunglasses and makes Lex go get more alcohol, preferably a vat of vodka brewed in a bucket of ice. When he’s gone, she notices Kara standing rather than sitting at her bench. She’s facing Lance’s box, too, instead of her own, and her eyes connect with Lena’s. Even at the short distance, Lena can see the baby blue of her irises, clear as the desert sky. She’s soaked in sweat, downright glistening, and Lena watches her throat bob as she drinks from a water bottle. Kara plants one hand on her hip, and Lena swears she flexes her bicep. Lena’s traitorous eyes track the movement, and when Kara drops the bottle, she has the absolute nerve to smile.

Lena finds herself clapping for the wrong player not two games later.

“At least, try to give the barest impression you’re cheering for Lance,” Lex chides in a whisper. “Or we’re never getting invited back again.”

Lena doesn’t care.

In the next round, Kara does something similarly soul destroying at the baseline. While waiting on a challenged call, she glances at Lena and pulls her shirt up to wipe her face, not breaking eye contact. It grants full view of what are positively mystical abs. Her obliques. Words for other anatomy that are entirely forgotten.

Lena’s brain goes into an early dementia. Lex belts out a full on laugh.

Lena becomes extremely intoxicated during the next forty-five minutes, in more ways than one, while Kara Danvers makes short work of Lance. During the post win, on court interview, she’s humble and appreciative, though honestly it’s a miracle that Lena can hear anything at all through the haze of her seismic attraction and the absolute roar of the crowd.

They clamber over each other in a craze to get at the signed balls Kara launches into the stadium. For the last ball, however, she aims directly for Lena in Lance’s box.

It has to be a massive social faux pas to do this in Lance’s box, but that doesn’t stop Lena from reaching out, anyway. She surprises even herself by snatching the ball out of the air with one out-stretched hand. She hasn’t caught a ball since second grade.

She turns it over in her palm to find a phone number and a quickly sharpied heart.

Fuck.

“God, I hope this makes the match highlights,” Lex looks down at the ball with glee. “Mother is going to kill us.”

#supercorp #anon prompt #fanfic #i think i got all the requested muscles #tennis au

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lalainajanes · 3 years

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This completes column #2 on my bingo card, the square was “Eager Backstage Groupie”

Another Shot of Courage

Saturday, May 1st, 8:16 AM

Caroline wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, in the little black dress she'd worn to Kat's birthday party, with a headache and a foul-tasting mouth. She's sprawled in the middle of a very large mattress, so the first thing Caroline does is explore. She stretches her arms out tentatively, expecting to poke someone (hopefully an unobjectionable someone) awake.

She appears to be alone, and Caroline relaxes into the fluffy pillows. She wiggles experimentally, satisfied when her bra and underwear dig into uncomfortable areas and gives in to the temptation to burrow under the duvet.

She just needs a minute to regret her life choices before she confronts them. Caroline sighs, stretches, and her fuzzy head begins to clear, memories sharpening.

And yikes.

Can she stay in her self-made blanket fort forever? A lot of her conduct last night had been highly irrational, some of it downright hypocritical. She is a public relations professional, highly sought after. Her clients pay many pretty pennies for her services.

Had she seriously mauled Klaus Mikaelson in one of the trendiest clubs in LA?

Caroline tugs down the blanket, intent on confirming her suspicions, allowing her to look around and study the room with new eyes.

There's a brick fireplace at the end of the bed, a wide armchair in front of it – not particularly revealing. Her eyes flick to the left. There's nothing, but dark curtains pulled tight over a wall of windows.

When she looks to the right, there's a smoking gun. Well, kind of. It's a drafting table, an easel, and shelves featuring paintbrushes, haphazardly stacked sketchbooks, and a bunch of other things that Caroline doesn't currently have the brainpower to identify.

She considers slipping out of bed and checking to see if those curtains cover any kind of door. She thinks it's logical to assume so. She's only been to Klaus' home a few times, tries to insist they meet at her office. She's never ventured far beyond the kitchen and living rooms, but it's a Spanish-style bungalow on a sprawling lot. Why wouldn't he have a walk out into the yard from his bedroom?

She discards the idea with some regret. Running away without a word is a coward's move and would probably backfire. Klaus is still her client, whatever psychosis had gripped Caroline last night, and it's not like she could dump him via email at this point. He's got a huge movie coming in three weeks, and they're flying to London tomorrow to begin the premiere tour. She could probably pass it on to another publicist, but she'd still be on the hook, would have to coordinate her plans long-distance.

Selfishly, Caroline hopes that's not necessary. She'd hate for someone else to reap the benefits of her hard work.

She heaves herself into a sitting position, wincing when her head throbs. Her stomach seems solid, with no hint of queasiness, so that's a plus. Caroline tosses the covers aside, shifts until her legs slide over the side of the bed. She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror through the open closet door and cringes.

She'd done an excellent smoky eye last night, and it's migrated all over her face. She doesn't even want to consider how long it's going to take to detangle her hair. She decides she can wait a bit to hunt down Klaus, stepping forward and twisting the knob on the closed door. "Jackpot," Caroline mutters, walking into Klaus' bathroom. There's a stack of towels on the counter, and she figures it won't hurt to take a shower.

She'd had her tongue in his mouth and had apparently kicked him out of his bed, so what's one more presumption?

Friday, April 30th, 10:47 PM

In the VIP lounge Kat had rented, elevated above the main dance floor, Caroline waves away a shot of tequila. She'd had one during the birthday toast, wine at dinner. Had just ordered an overpriced cocktail. She's pleasantly tipsy but needs to pace herself because she can't get too drunk tonight.

Besides, Caroline and tequila have a complicated relationship.

Kat boos her, a few of the other girls joining in. Caroline laughs, "I know, I'm boring. I have a million things to do tomorrow to make sure I'm ready to live out of a suitcase for weeks."

Katherine scoffs, "Just make Klaus buy you anything you forget. What good is a guy who's hot for you and makes big fat superhero movie paychecks if he won't buy you pretty things?"

They've discussed this a bajillion times. Caroline has actually run away from this exact conversation, shouting nonsense syllables, with her fingers jammed in her ear, as if she and Katherine still fight over Barbies and who gets to wear dress-up trunk's best princess dress.

Caroline still can't resist arguing – it's a character flaw. "He's my client. That's it."

"Oh, please. Men in this town bone their clients all the time."

"That doesn't make it okay!"

Usually, this is the part where Katherine tries to convince her that Klaus is dying to be boned – her words, not Caroline's – but she gets distracted, squinting across the bar. Kat's lips curl, expression growing sly, "It appears my argument is moot."

Um, what? Katherine's literally never backed down from an argument in the twenty-plus years they've been friends. Puzzled, Caroline turns, trying to see what caught Kat's attention.

The club features several VIP lounges, each located at the top of a short staircase and decorated with wide velvet sofas and crystal chandeliers. There's an attendant who keeps booze and food flowing. It's clever – the sofas are inviting and squishy, tend to force people close together. The chandeliers ensure that anyone who happens to take a picture can get a decent shot, and the free flow of liquor has lowered the inhibitions of at least half a dozen celebrities, resulting in photos that send the gossip blogs into a tizzy as soon as they hit the internet.

When Caroline spots Klaus across the way, a redheaded model sprawled in his lap, she's immediately fuming.

"Looks like he got tired of waiting," Kat drawls. "Wanna reconsider the tequila?"

"Katherine. I love you. But zip it."

Katherine makes a face but leaves Caroline alone, turning to another one of their friends and asking a question. Caroline takes a deep breath, counts to ten.

She'd busted her ass to make him appear family-friendly enough to land the movie with the very PR-conscious studio that had netted him the big fat checks Katherine had just been crowing over. He's jeopardizing that on the eve of the most significant press tour of his career.

She looks over again, leaning forward. The redhead's moved away, she's sitting at Klaus' side, and they now appear to be merely engaged in conversation. Caroline does her best to think like a photographer – is there an angle that could make the scene look tawdry?

Probably not. So really, Klaus isn't jeopardizing anything.

Caroline's anger doesn't cool at the revelation.

She's so screwed.

She's on her feet before she decides to be, stalking down the stairs. She hears Katherine yelling borderline lewd encouragement at her back, but Caroline knows better than to take her advice.

She's marching over to diffuse, not inflame.

Hopefully.

Saturday, May 1st, 9:01 AM

She finds Klaus in his living room, asleep, his legs hanging awkwardly over the arm of a too-short couch, his torso twisted so awkwardly that Caroline's back twinges sympathetically. With the confirmation that she had stolen his bed, more of Caroline's irritation fades. The shower had helped, as had the bottle of water she'd guzzled and the three Tylenol she'd popped.

She takes a seat on his coffee table, setting down her second bottle of water. Caroline reaches out, shaking his shoulder gently. "Klaus," she murmurs when he begins to stir. "Wake up."

She could probably leave him to sleep. Klaus' stylist will handle most of his packing; he's borrowed a dizzying volume of outfits and accessories for Klaus to wear on this trip. The announcement won't come for another two weeks, but Klaus is shooting a Dior cologne ad once his press obligations wrap. The brand had requested he start wearing the newest line. Caroline had attended the last fitting, and she'd had a hard time keeping her blatant ogling under wraps.

Klaus looks good in ratty jeans, in a suit tailored to his measurements? Just about anyone attracted to men would have struggled not to appreciate the sight.

That's how Caroline had justified letting her emails pile up that afternoon.

She'd been a little worried about her control slipping on this trip, once they were alone in the hotel, and Klaus dropped the shiny, press-perfect façade he's learned to maintain. Caroline had designed that mask to appeal to the broadest possible audience. Doing interview prep has unfortunately only emphasized how much more she likes Klaus without it.

Klaus stretches, eyes fluttering open. "Good morning," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "I hope you slept better than I did."

Caroline winces, "Don’t you have a guest room or two you could have shoved me in?”

He smiles lazily, “You were quite insistent on touring my bedroom.”

Her eyes slam shut, face heating, “And that is why I don’t drink tequila unsupervised,” she grumbles.

He laughs, sitting up, his legs bracketing hers. He reaches for her water bottle and helps himself to a sip. Caroline leans back, fishing the Tylenol out of the pocket of the hoodie she’d stolen from his closet. She’d needed something bulkier to hide the fact she hadn’t been able to convince herself to strap her bra back on. “Do you want these?” she asks, rattling the bottle.

Klaus shakes his head, “I’m not hungover. I didn’t drink at all, and you stole that shot of tequila that was meant for me, remember?”

Ohhh no. She’d forgotten about that. She’d stolen his and the model’s.

Which, in hindsight, goes a long way to explaining what had happened after. Caroline’s problem with tequila is that once she starts, she has a hard time stopping. It heightens her usually non-existent impulsive streak, leads to sub-par decisions.

Occasionally, tequila does make her clothes fall off.

Caroline buries her hands in her face, wishing she hadn’t tied her hair back. She’s mortified, probably growing splotchy. “I am so sorry,” she mutters.

Klaus sighs, tries to tug her hands away. Caroline resists, tensing her muscles, wishes she’d gone with her first instinct and fled out the backdoor. He rests his hands on her knees, squeezing, voice dipping into coaxing tones. “No apology necessary. I’m not the least bit upset.”

Unfortunately, Caroline’s totally up to the task of being upset enough for the both of them.

Friday, April 30th, 10:53 PM

Once the attendant in Klaus VIP area confirms that he does know Caroline and lets her up the stairs, Klaus has managed to increase the distance between his body and the model’s. He seems pleased to see her, grabbing her hand and tugging her to sit next to him on the couch.

Close enough that they’re connected thigh to shoulder.

The model, whose name Caroline doesn’t particularly care about, is less welcoming. She glares daggers at Caroline’s hand, still enclosed in Klaus’. He makes polite introductions. “Genevieve, this is my publicist and very good friend, Caroline Forbes. Caroline, Genevieve. She’s a friend of Kol’s.”

Klaus’ younger brother is also an actor, still firmly in the throes of his wild child phase. Caroline finds him entertaining, despite her best intentions, but he’s known to delight in making her job more complicated. She glances around suspiciously, “Is Kol here?”

Klaus gestures vaguely to the dance floor. “Somewhere. He dragged me out to celebrate a pilot he booked, then disappeared.”

Hmm, that could lead to disaster. Caroline wonders if she should shoot his publicist a text as a professional courtesy.

Caroline smiles at Genevieve sharply, “So sweet of you to keep Klaus company.” It’s mean, but Caroline wonders if Genevieve has somehow heard about Klaus’ Dior deal through the grapevine. Maybe she’s aiming for a co-starring role – Caroline’s read the treatment for the commercial; it’s supposed to be streamy.

Oh, good lord, High School Caroline has somehow time traveled and taken over her body.

Genevieve pastes on an equally fake smile (at least Caroline’s not the only one regressing). Before she can snipe back, a silver tray is set in front of them, two shots resting on it. The attendant catches Caroline’s eye, “Can I get you anything, Miss?”

Klaus interrupts, squeezes her hand in an absent apology, “Sorry, there must be some mistake. I ordered a water.”

He’s contractually obligated to maintain a ridiculously chiseled body. Caroline’s got a reminder in her phone to order him a pile of celebratory spaghetti after his press obligations are officially over and he can relax for a few months.

The attendant’s eyes flit to Genevieve in confusion, “I…”

“I cancelled that,” she chirps, sliding her hand up Klaus’ arm. Genevieve leans in, tone lowering to what Caroline thinks is supposed to be a seductive level. “Figured we would toast.”

Caroline catches it because she’s practically plastered to Klaus’ other side. “Who toasts with tequila?” she asks. “Other than creeps at bars, I mean.”

Had Caroline not been well acquainted with Katherine Pierce, she might have been intimidated by Genevieve's attempt at a lethal glare.

Caroline stares back, reaching blindly for the first shot. She tosses it back, then the second, fighting the shudder that wants to wrack her frame through sheer willpower alone.

“Bitch,” Genevieve mutters, standing and flouncing away.

It’s petty, but Caroline savors her win.

Klaus is staring at her oddly, a touch concerned. “Maybe we should get you some water, love.”

Saturday, May 1st, 9:04 AM

“There were more shots when I got back to Kat’s party,” Caroline moans. “I’m going to kill her. She knows my weaknesses.”

“While I am reluctant to defend your irritating friend, she did seem rather intent on her fun. It was her birthday, wasn’t it?”

Caroline nods, “Yeah. And Kat’s always been firmly convinced that she should get to do whatever her little black heart desires on her birthday.”

“She did insist I ensure you get home safely. I’m afraid you were rather reluctant to supply your address.”

She sighs, finally dropping her hands. “Honestly, I just moved into a condo. I might not have remembered it.” That’s the less embarrassing option. It’s probably more likely that tequila drunk Caroline had crafted a plan to seduce Klaus, and step one entailed getting invited to his house. “I know you said not to apologize, but I obviously put you out. I’m supposed to babysit you, not the other way around.”

Klaus laughs, his knee nudging hers. “I haven’t needed that for ages, as you well know.”

He has a point – Caroline likely wouldn’t have agreed to take him on if he was still indulging in public drunkenness and paparazzi punching. When she’d first met with Klaus, it had been out of curiosity. She’d made a comfortable living from her client roster, did not need to take on the project of a difficult actor.

Klaus’ bad behavior had been a few years in the past, and he’d just come off a run of festival darlings and had produced a surprise hit sci-fi drama. He’d been frustrated by the doors that remained firmly shut to him, had laid his ambitions on the table.

Caroline had been intrigued. While she’s excellent at her job, but it’s always easier to work her magic with clients who are willing to dive into the work. Klaus’ talent was undeniable; she’d thought he could be a household name with the right opportunity. She’d agreed to take him on, and three years later, it’s paid off.

Caroline tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over her hands, eyes on the frayed trim. “I was mad when I saw you last night, and that wasn’t fair. You’d set you were resting up for the press tour, but it’s not my business if you changed your mind.”

“Did you think I was resuming some bad habits?” Klaus asks. “I know that particular venue has a… reputation. Probably why Kol picked it.”

Caroline sneaks a glance at him, trying to gauge how he feels, but he’s not giving much away. “No, not really. I trust you. I wasn’t thinking super logically.”

She has to admit, at least to herself, that she’d been jealous. Caroline’s going to have to think about how deep that goes, if the feelings that had slapped her in the face last night will prevent their working relationship from being effective. What if Klaus meets someone? Will she be able to plant sneaky tidbits about how happy they are, scour the gossip blogs for rumors that could become issues?

“You? Not thinking logically? However could that be?”

She glares at him, though she knows his teasing is good-natured. “Some of it was the booze. I totally wouldn’t have hauled you onto the dance floor without it. And I wouldn’t have… well, you were there.”

She’s not up to list her transgressions. If Klaus hadn’t been drinking, then his memory of her wandering hands, her flirtatious comments, and heated invitations should be crystal clear. Caroline had been drunk, and she’s having a hard time not dwelling on the kiss – which, to be fair, Klaus had enthusiastically participated in – that she’d initiated.

“I was there. I have no objections to anything that occurred last night, save perhaps wishing you’d been sober.” Her head snaps up, eyes widening in shock, and Klaus laughs incredulously. “Surely you must know of my interest in you, Caroline.”

She’s suspected, but she’s also well aware that Klaus has no shortage of offers. Last night is proof of that. Caroline has always assumed that take one of them, at some point, and his flirtatiousness with her would fade away. She’d dated an actor or two when she’d moved to LA after wrapping up college. Caroline had been working insane hours then, trying to claw her way past the other assistants at the agency where she’d worked. Her exes from that time period had been quick to move on once they realized she wasn’t willing to center her universe around them.

“Interest can be fleeting.”

“It’s been three years.”

“You never made a real move.”

Again, Klaus counters quickly. “You’d not have accepted, and then you’d likely have pawned me off on someone else.”

Yeah, he’s got a point there. “I’m your publicist.”

“I have no objection to mixing business with pleasure. If you do, I suppose I’m willing to suffer a less competent publicist.”

“I’m beginning to suspect you’ve been plotting.”

Klaus shrugs, entirely unrepentant. “Perhaps a bit. I’ve always been entirely honest with you, I merely prevented a situation that would lessen the time we spent together until such a time as you were ready to consider me in a romantic light.”

“That’s a lot of words to confess you’ve been trying to flirt me into submission while flashing your hot body at every opportunity,” Caroline grumbles.

Klaus’ smile widens, dimples now visible. “It seems to have worked. Assuming that you meant the things you said to me last night?”

“I…” she hadn’t been expecting him to ask her that directly. She should have been – Klaus is skilled at choosing the best way to catch someone off guard. Caroline glances away from him, eyes catching on the clock across the room. Crap. She has so much to do. “I have to go,” Caroline tells him, standing up.

His eyes narrow, and his head tips to the side, like he’s searching for a sign of weakness. Both telltale indicators that Klaus is gearing up to argue. Caroline holds up a hand, “I know, okay? This looks like I’m running away, and technically I am, but this is not the time to begin that mixing you mentioned. We’ve both worked too hard to risk screwing up the next few weeks. Did you read your contract? The fines for non-compliance are no joke.”

“Now is not the time,” Klaus says slowly. “Meaning?”

“We table it now. I’m open to a discussion later.” Three weeks is plenty of time for her to sort out where she stands, right? Caroline never sleeps on flights anyway.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I want a timeline. I understand that you feel obligated to ensure this press tour goes smoothly, but you can only use it as an excuse until it’s over, love. I’m prepared to be persuasive.”

“What, do you want me to schedule something on your calendar? Maybe set an agenda?”

“No need to be so formal. Just agree to have dinner with me once we return. Here, if you’d like, so we don’t risk inflaming the tabloids before you’re ready.”

“You seem awfully sure that this is going to go a certain way. So eager to fire me?”

Klaus gets to his feet, and Caroline sucks in a nervous breath. Sitting across from each other, he’d been a reasonable distance away. Now, with both of them standing in the narrow gap between his couch and coffee table, if one of them breathes too deeply or shifts deliberately, they’ll be plastered together.

She’s tempted despite knowing she’s right about the timing.

Klaus rests his hand on her waist and turns them so Caroline could step back if she wanted to.

She stays where she is.

A tiny smile curls Klaus’ lips and his hand moves, pressing her closer. “As much as I enjoyed your more… explicit ramblings last night, I must confess my favorite revelation was when you confessed to just how long you’ve had them.”

Caroline, not for the first time, curses tequila’s wretched existence.

Wednesday, May 5th 2:20 PM

The meet and greets are going to kill her.

Caroline had thought they were a good idea when she’d poured through the itinerary the studio had sent over. Inviting popular bloggers, auctioning off tickets for charity, allowing fans to enter random draws – it’s great PR and provides the opportunity for viral moments, while also controlling the environment.

Caroline’s leaning against one of the walls, unnoticed, eyes on her client.

A lot of eyes are on her client, some of which irritate Caroline more than others. The two teenage girls, trailed by an exasperated dad, who’d both burst into tears when Klaus had smiled at them? Totally adorable. The nerdy college student who’d grilled Klaus about his character’s comic backstory? Kind of a pain, but Klaus had done his homework, and Caroline had been impressed.

And annoyed. Excessive preparation is very attractive and unhelpful at this juncture of the press tour. Caroline’s already begun to reconsider what they’d agreed to, wonders if knocking on his hotel room door on the last night would be such a bad thing.

That line of thinking might be overly influenced by the scene in front of her.

Klaus is speaking with a woman in an afternoon inappropriate silver dress. Caroline’s sorely tempted to have her escorted out by security. She’d slipped a key card into the back pocket of Klaus’ jeans within 90 seconds of meeting him.

He’s handed it back, said something that made her laugh. They’re still talking.

Klaus glances up, eyes landing on her immediately. Caroline hastily tries to soften her irritated expression lest he guesses its reason. Klaus smiles, subtly tips his water bottle in her direction. Silver Dress invades his personal space a little more.

Ugh. It’s gonna be a long three weeks.

#klaroline #klarosummerbingo #klaroline fanfiction

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waezi2 · 3 years

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Re-reading Yu-Gi-Oh (part 1)

So... I bitch a lot about Yu-Gi-Oh. When I don’t complain about it online and accuse it of scamming kid me, I ridicule the story and the many holes in the game rules.

But I actually used to love this manga with a burning passion. I bought it because I was fixated with the cards, but instead I got traumatized. In an awesome way.

So I decided to re-read the manga about the possibly best known TCG game in the world and see how it started, how it evolved, and if the story still holds up.

So, I’m reading chapter 1, and we have to talk about the art.

The art style at the beginning was chunky and sometimes downright awkward. But it was still very enjoyable. The characters were very expressive and the tone of the style could swing quickly from wacky and rubberhose like to eerie and brooding depending on the situation. It makes you forgive odd-looking legs and hands that becomes massive. It is clear that it is someone’s first project.

So, this is Yugi. Possibly the cutest and meekest punk kid who ever lived. Yugi is not an outdoor person, so he spends most of his recesses inside the classroom. He brings a ton of games to school, hoping that someone might wanna play with him, but all of his classmates prefer to go outside and do stuff like basketball. And being a short teenager who practically looks like a little boy means he is not a desirable team mate in any ball game.

This is totally just a theory, but I think Yugi’s signature punk hairstyle is his way of trying to look a bit more edgy to try do something about his cute appearance.

... Yeah, it’s not working. He still looks like a fricking Gummibear.

As Yugi is minding his own business, we meet two familiar faces.

... their names are actually Jounouchi and and Honda, but most people know them by their American names, so I will just refer to them as Joey and Tristan.

It’s so odd to see their old designs. Especially Joey since his hair is not as big and square like as it is today. And what the fuck is up with Tristan’s face?!

Anyways, while Yugi decides to play with the most valuable game in his collection, Joey and Tristan decides to mess with him. They make an interesting bully duo where Tristan is more loud and is clearly having more fun bothering Yugi who is too short to put up a fight while Joey seems more stoic and is almost annoyed by Yugi for being a pushover. He even tells Yugi to be a man about it and at least try and take the game back from him by force. So while Tristian just enjoys picking on Yugi for the heck of it, Joey seems to sincerely dislike Yugi.

Luckily, Yugi doesn’t have trouble with bullies as such since he is friends with Tea who is so tough that she actually intimidate Joey and Tristan with sheer attitude. That’s actually impressive.

... A shame she is most of the time just the damsel in distress.

Tea is the only person in class who hangs out with Yugi since they have been friends since kindergarten. And she doesn’t mind staying inside at all since a ton of the guys are jerks who only wanna play basketball with the girls since it gives them an opportunity to look up their skirts.

Yeah, there is a lot of that in this manga. Most of the males in this series are kinda horny. the humor often relies on it, which downright creepy at times.

Even Yugi finds basketball more appealing now that he knows about the skirt-looking.

Lewd panty-shot aside, I think it is a nice detail that Yugi is as pathetic as the rest of the dudes in school, he probably just doesn’t have the courage to try get a look. It makes him less of a pure hero.

Altight, let’s stop talking about Yugi being a closet creep:/

Yugi shows Tea what his greatest treasure is: A LITTERAL treasure.

Yep, this is the famous Millennium Puzzle, practically the mascot of the series. It’s an ancient puzzle found in an pyramid that Yugi got from his grandfather who runs a game store. The puzzle is extremely valuable, both because it is from ancient Egypt and it is made of gold.

... And Yugi brings it to school where Tristan and Joey pushes him around...

Yugi has been struggling with the puzzle for eight years despite being a game nerd. Even though it is a blow to his not that big ego, he keeps trying to solve it since the box says that if he will be granted a wish if he manage to solve the puzzle.

Meanwhile, Joey and Tristan makes the fatal mistake of talking about picking on Yugi while Ushio is close enough to hear it. He is the school’s hall monitor and rumor has it that he is downright psychotic and is feared by most of the students. Heck, some of the teachers are uncomfortable being near him.

And this guy has decided to become Yugi’s bodyguard, something poor Yugi doesn’t take serious when Ushio tells him that.

Joey and Tristan are unaware how screwed they are as they keep having their fun bothering Yugi without our hero knowing it. Joey managed to steal a piece from the puzzle box before Tea interrupted, and Joey decides to throw the piece in the school’s swimming pool so that the puzzle becomes worthless as it can no longer be solved. I gotta say, that is pretty twisted and surprisingly sneaky of a teen bully. It’s downright creepy.

Speaking of creepy...

This is Yugi’s grandfather Sugoroku. He runs the game shop that Yugi lives in and is a living encyclopedia when it comes to games of all sorts.

And he can’t just tell Tea that she has grown. He HAS to mention her breasts as well. Da fuck is up with all the sex talk and panty shots in this series?! Does Kazuki Takahashi(the author) have some sort of issues?!

Yugi’s grandfather notices that Yugi is STILL trying to solve the ancient puzzle and warns Yugi that the puzzle is supposedly cursed. That the archeologist and his team died mysteriously shortly after finding the puzzle and the last one to kick the bucket said something about a “shadow game” with his dying breath.

That however makes Yugi even more determent to solve the puzzle. If it really is magical then chances are that he will be granted a wish by completing the puzzle.

Personally, I would call the nearest museum and sell the dang thing before it could kill me with it’s insane cursed magic.

Speaking of insane, Yugi realizes that he should have taken Ushio serious when he said he would be his bodyguard.

Yep, the SOB has dragged Joey and Tristan behind the school building and kicked their asses through and through. Tristan is in so much pain that he is barely conscious and Joey is so pummeled that all he can do is watch as Yugi shows how surprisingly brave he is as he demands that Ushio leaves them alone, even refer to them as his friends and that they were just trying to make him a man.

Yeah, picking on someone because they are too timid and demanding that they fight you despite knowing that they hat violence is the right way to make someone a man. Hip hooray for toxic masculinity!

Yugi defending Joey and Tristan results in him getting a beating as well.

One of the interesting things about early Yu-Gi-Oh is the raw and ugly violence. We talking dirty violence where people get kneed in the chest and kicked while they lie down. Not just off-screen, we witness our heroes be pummeled, making the series a bit more gritty and frightening. And this series is not for those with a weak stomach.

Joey is stunned, partly because Yugi defends him, but way more of the short spiky-haired kid’s courage. But Yugi is anything but afraid. After all, he refused to fight Joey, but he still tried to get the puzzle back(not successfully, but he made an effort instead of just squirming).

After Ushio finished kicking poor Yugi’s ass, he tells him to bring him money as “payment” for his “bodyguard service.” And we talking 200000 yen, that’s a lot of dough.

Ushio even pulls a god damn knife(!), just to show how fucking crazy he is!

Yugi goes home to see if he has money enough to pay Ushio, but he only has 1656 yen. In frustration, Yugi decides to solve his unsolvable puzzle, just to think of something else than the brute with a knife who is waiting for him at school.

But what do you know? Yugi finally get the hang of it. He sees that some of the pieces just needs to be rotated differently and he finish it in a couple of minutes.

... Or he WOULD have. He finally sees that one of the pieces are missing, breaking his heart and making his awful day even worse.

But Grandpa has the last piece. He tells Yugi that one of his friends from school had found it and asked him to give it to Yugi. And that he was soaked despite it not raining.

As Yugi is happy about being able to finish the puzzle and returns to his room, his grandpa thinks about that the boy was Joey and that he asked him not to tell Yugi it was him that came with the puzzle piece. Joey also told him about Ushio blackmailing Yugi, so Grandpa secretly puts money in Yugi’s schoolbag so he won’t get in trouble.

And this is where it get’s freaky.

Yep, here it is. the iconic moment Yugi gets blessed by the puzzle so that he can turn into the split personality we refer to as Yami which is Japanese for “Dark”.

Yugi then calls Ushio and tells him to meet him outside school at midnight.

Ushio is surprised as he sees that Yugi is wearing some sort of costume and that he looks way more cocky than before.

Yugi tells Ushio that he has the money he demands, but he has twice the amount. Fricking 400000 yen!

But Yugi only “owes” 200000 to Ushio, so he suggest that they play about them in a dark and twisted game.

Yugi and Ushio take turns stabbing the stack of money placed on their hand. They have to stab hard enough to take more than one single bill. The winner is the guy with most yen bills.

As they play, Ushio seems to be winning... but when it is his turn, he can feel that his hand is way too eager to stab.

This is not just a weird-ass game. This is a “shadow game”, a game that shows your true nature. Ushio’s greed is now collected in his hand, and he so desperately want to win the game that he can’t control it. He realizes that if he stabs, he won’t be able to control his strength and he will penetrate his own hand. Ushio has to either A) give up and keep his hand or B) win the game with one hand less.

Ushio picks C.

Ushio tries to kill Yugi, but that was a mistake. The puzzle has made him super human and he leaps from the ground, evading the knife.

And cheating in a shadow game is a big no-go as the host of the game has authority to punish you.

Yami Yugi curses Ushio with “Illusion of Greed”, meaning he will be doomed to live in an imaginary world where he sees nothing but money everywhere.

Next morning, he is still outside the schoolyard like a drooling idiot who yells about all of his imaginary money.

Yugi has no memory of what happened but is glad he no longer has to be worried of Ushio who is a harmless nutcase. Not only that, he has finally finished his puzzle... and Joey offers him his friendship.

And that was the start of the horror manga turned card game commercial. It has a lot of charm, is very eerie and I think I prefer Yami Yugi’s first look that is more child like. making him look downright creepy.

This retrospective will continue ASAP.

Till then, I’m Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

#Yu-Gi-Oh #yugioh #yugi moto #joey wheeler #katsuya jonouchi #honda hitomi #anzu mazaki #tea gardner #tristan taylor #yami yugi #atem #manga

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cosmicbash · 3 years

Text

I'm hesitant to post this, because??? Honestly?? I'm not 100% sure I haven't already posted it. I was perusing my Google docs trying to relabel stuff as posted and such to better organize and found this, which @lemon-coke and me both can't figure out if I ever posted. So.

Better to repost it and give you all something to reread then not post it all I assume.

Sorry!

It starts out as a misunderstanding, of course, because how else would their relationship begin?

A series of short tentative chats that somehow blossom into a full on dinner together, Colson sweating and more anxious than he's ever been in his life. It just doesn't seem real, that not only could he be mending this feud with his idol but also sitting across from him at some fancy restaurant table learning Eminem eats his steaks well done like some child. And laughing about it.

He's actually laughing. With his idol, his rival, his highschool crush. Long legs kicking out under the table at his own bad jokes, Em half smirking back at him. Their feet brushing one too many times for the color to leave his cheeks even after he's done giggling.

By the time Colson is talking Em into splitting some crazy good looking chocolate cake he actually feels better than he has in years. Since before the beef. So of course something has to go wrong. It really would have to be a dream for things not to sour.

He wants to pretend the first few flirty comments are in his head. That Em reaching across the table to roughly rub some chocolate off his cheek is a Detroit thing. But by the time they're finished eating and waiting for the check Colson's creeping suspicion has turned into full on alarm bells blaring. There's just no way to excuse the nervous looks or Em's almost hesitant invitation up to his hotel room.

It feels like a slap to the face. Everything suddenly makes sense. Why they're eating in the other rapper's hotel, why Em is even speaking to him. None of this is to repair their relationship or end the beef. It's all just some poorly hidden buttering up before Em asks him to get down on his knees.

Colson should blow up. He should just lash out and throw his fist into Em's face. Storm out and flag down the valet. He's not some escort that the rapper can rent for the night and feed a fancy dinner to.

But there's that guilty feeling that has settled into the pit of his stomach. The one that's been there since he first lashed out and ruined everything with his diss track, the comments about Hailey, his childish bitching in interviews. It's only doubled since they first sat down to eat. Every muffled chuckle and weakly hidden smile from the older man digging that pit deeper and deeper. Showing him what he carelessly threw away in some desperate grab for attention.

It's got a small voice in the back of Colson's head warning him how if he says no and storms out he's just doing the same thing all over again, cutting Em out of his life. This time possibly forever.

So Colson bites his tongue and nods. His fingers anxiously climbing up into his hair to help hide the guilty look he knows must be on his face when he stutters out a "y-yeah, yeah, sure."

The genuine smile Em flashes back at him at his agreement just feels like a knife being jammed next to the shovel.

How can the man look so fucking blissful about something that feels like borderline blackmail?

But Em does. He looks stunned, downright flustered even at first at his response. Then happy. A happy that isn't hidden by some fake cough or behind a delicate yet strong looking hand for once. It gives Colson something precious to hold onto in the sea of uncomfortable and nasty emotions twisting up his stomach while the older rapper pays.

The knot just twists itself up tighter once they're in the elevator, his silence thankfully brushed off as nervousness by Em. The almost shy glance of steely blue eyes his way making him feel so small while buttons are pressed. Usually Colson would blame this kind of nausea on the ride itself, but for once his phobia of the small metal deathtraps is actually being overpowered. A new fear worming its way through his guts as each floor number blinks to life.

He doesn't want to freak out. To run away, but hes too goddamn sober for this. Avoiding smoking and turning down the offer of wine at dinner just to try and impress his idol was threatening to be his downfall. If he'd known Em was going to show such little respect and consideration to his being like this he would have lit a fat one up right there at the table. Hell, maybe that would have changed the older man's mind about propositioning him in the first place. Surely a druggie asshole was less appealing to make drop to their knees instead of his current carefully put together primped and meek self.

"Only a few more floors. Don't go green on me just yet Kelly."

Colson didn't know whether to take the playful nudge as comforting or creepy. Maybe, a little flattering? If Em had actually looked into him enough to learn about his problem with elevators and the man just wasn't guessing off the apparent discolor of his face that is.

"Y-yeah."

Imagining Eminem of all people actually following his interviews or caring about his personal life that much felt like a pipe dream though.

Outside of the next 20 minutes or however long it took for the bastard to get his rocks off he highly doubted Em would put much thought into his existence at all. Which would be fair. After all the shit he's said and done he really doesn't deserve the time of day from his idol.

A ding and the elevator doors were opening. Colson's legs feeling numb beneath him when he finally lets go of the railing in the elevator to stumble forward. Thankful that Em's focus was on digging his room's keycard out of his wallet and not his clumsy steps. Each one bringing them closer and closer to their destination, making the whole situation so vividly real he couldn't help but panic again. The other man's forced small talk about how he "Doesn't usually book the penthouse suite-" falling on deaf ears.

It’s ironic, how often he had dreamed for this exact scenario. For Eminem to be leading him up to some fancy high end hotel room, promising to shower him fully in his attention and gaze. Only now, with his dream coming true right before his eyes he can’t help but feel bittersweet about the heated gaze holding him frozen just outside the door. Em’s final offer for him to back down before they both step through the threshold clear as day in the look.

The twist in his gut tells Colson to take it, to just spin around on his heel and run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Accept he’s too much of a coward and too full of himself to actually mend their beef.

But the desperate need he feels for forgiveness and absolvement pushes Colson forward instead. Sheer will alone giving him the confidence to twirl his idols hoodie strings around his fingers to drag Em inside with him. The loud beat of his heart completely smothering the other man’s flustered outburst.

Just like in church the blonde finds himself on his knees not too long after entering. Mouth open and hands clasped together, ready to ask for forgiveness. Except this god he’s praying to is running it’s fingers through his hair, and there’s a stiff cock separating his palms. A chorus of curses and “Holy fuck, K-Kelly just wait a second, shit, your tongue is-“ tickling his ears instead of hymns.

He’s never sucked a cock before, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he finds himself choking. But Colson doesn’t give up, even when his jaw starts to ache and the grip on his hair grows a bit too tight. His discomfort doesn’t matter here. He just needs to make Em happy, earn the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve.

“Can I- fuck, can I fuck your face?” Both of the older rapper’s palms are holding his bangs away from his face, tilting his head back just enough to force their eyes to meet. The shame in his chest doubles but so does the surprising tightness in his jeans when he sees the uncharacteristic flush to Em’s cheeks.

He isn’t experienced, the smart thing to do would be pull off and admit that. He’s seen first hand how disastrous things can go but his head bobs in a yes anyway. Eyes already starting to water from how the action jabs the other rappers cock right against his gag reflex.

A low groan is all the warning he gets before Em’s fingers are knotting in his hair, forcing his head down to meet the thrust of strong hips. Stuffing that hard dick down his throat so fast it burns and his hands can’t help but flail, helplessly grabbing onto the meat of the older rapper’s thighs through his sweats. Unable to even steal another gasp of air before it happens again. Em’s hips pistoning forward to fuck his mouth like some cheap replaceable toy.

Even after he gags and gurgles spit the rapper doesn’t stop.

The harsh pants of praise and encouragement burning his ears just as hotly as the tears in his eyes. “Ah, so good. So fucking good baby, the best, ah-“

Colson doesn’t know what’s worse, how quickly his heart skips at the surprise tern of endearment or how pathetically his cock jerks in his underwear. Not that he has much time to think on it with how Em abruptly forces his face right down to the bone, soft and scratchy pubes tickling his nose. Startling him before the other man’s blowing his load, Colson’s eyes widening and nails cutting deeply into Em’s legs while he chokes. There’s too much, even with his throat reflexively swallowing it still fills up his mouth and bursts out the sides. Dripping down his chin and out onto his shirt when Em finally pulls him off.

It’s salty, and thick. Nothing like the eggnog Rook’s joked to him it tastes like. There’s nothing sweet about this thick cream, even if the lightheaded feeling he’s got from milking it out still makes him feel drunk.

“Shit. I wanna take a picture.“ Em’s palm is tilting his head back again, dragging his glassy eyes up away from the twitching spit slick cock in front of him. Thumb forcing his tongue down flat to flash what he can only imagine has to be a white mess before the hand in his hair is fumbling out a phone. “Can I?”

He almost wants to laugh at how the brunette doesn’t even wait for his answer before there is the unmistakable flash of a phone light temporarily blinding him. A curse and then another two, these ones at least allowing him the chance to shut his eyes tightly.

The shame within him is boiling, burning through his veins like lava and making his heart drop down into his stomach.

“So pretty-“ Em’s fingers are releasing his tongue and jaw to rake through his bangs yet again. Exposing his face even though Colson wants nothing more than to hide. A stifled sob tearing at his aching throat while he swallows what he can inside his mouth without completely gagging.

He can’t cry. That would ruin the mood wouldn't it? And if it doesn't, Colson doesn't know how he would handle having Em laugh at his tears. The almost soft demeanor and shy quality to his tone is all thats keeping the blonde from running away as it is.

The shuffle of shoes and curl of strong fingers pulling him up startles Colson's eyes back open. Lashes fluttering to blink away the brief flash of wetness that's blurred his vision before he realizes he's being kissed. That Em's palms are cupping his jaw yet again, helping him to his feet.

It's scratchy, and softer than he expects. Not that he was expecting Eminem to be kissing him in the first place, but the man doesn't relent. Just keeps kissing him, even after he's grown to his full height and the angle of their heads has switched. Em's tongue snaking its way inside his mouth while they stumble back further into the room. Until Colson's head is feeling fuzzy and his knees weak, the cushioned crash of his body hitting a mattress barely felt.

It feels wrong when Em's hands smooth up over his chest and down inside his jeans. The uncontrollable kick of his hips up into a tight hand around his cock almost blasphemous. There's no reason for Em to even be bothering with touching him there, he doesn't deserve it. But the rapper is sucking and nibbling along his neck, up into his ear to whisper a dozen filthy praises and compliments. None of them possibly true.

"So pretty-" "Perfect-" "Wanted to touch you for so long-"

"Stop-" Colson's hands feel shaky as they drag his idols face back up to meet his in a messy kiss. Breath tight while he tries to speak between pecks. "Just- fuck, just hurry-"

When he winds up on his stomach some point into the night, Em's too big cock pressing hard against his entrance he can't help but cry out. The pitiful fist he shoves between his own teeth doing nothing to stifle the sound.

It hurts, more than the thin fingers he'd taken only moments prior. But not as much as the soothing shushes and affectionate run of hands through his hair.

#and yeah #i kinda stole the formatting metalheadkells uses for their tumblr posts #i seriously forgot i had more options than just bold or italics #🥴🥴🥴#forgive meee #emgk #i hope if you have read it you at least all enjoyed it #and if not #the same #😭😭#prompts

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masquerade-reimagined · 3 years

Text

This is really long and I don’t recommend you actually read it.

Hey! Pixelberry! C’mere. I got something to talk to you about.

No, it’s not about how it’s completely incomprehensible for the Foreign Affairs MC to not know who Blaine is as soon as they first see them. But it is about FA! So pull up a chair because this totally non-professional writer is gonna sit you down and talk to you about how awful the flirting is in this book. Specifically, during this scene:

Let me establish the process I took to make this completely unnecessary post. I went through all of the flirting options for all three LIs in this book and sorted them into one of the three following categories (with quantity out of 30 -- the current total number of flirt options through the first six chapters).

Okay/Good: Nothing offensive and even mostly makes sense for MC to say/do. (21/30)

Iffy/Pushing It: Not downright terrible but possibly somewhat awkward, inappropriate, or nonsensical if you really think about the situation. (6/30)

WTF: Way over the line or completely inappropriate to the relationship and/or situation. (3/30)

Overall, not too bad, really. Most of the flirting options are fine. They make sense, they aren’t overly aggressive (unless it’s a Blaine scene and then Blaine is more receptive to that sort of thing, so it’s fine).

The Iffy/Pushing It category is split evenly across all three LIs at two each. They’re all entirely contextual and aren’t necessarily bad. They can just tilt toward being a little on the awkward side when you think about the context of the situation, and the relationship between MC and the LI.

WTF is all Tatum, and two of the three are from chapter six (the third is the leaning in for a kiss in chapter two for the reasons I’m going to elaborate on in a moment). You probably already know which two I’m talking about.

Now. The first one, "I'm glad we can be here together as adults," isn’t necessarily bad on its own. It’s that CRINGE AS HELL follow-up. THIS cringe as hell follow-up:

What the crap is this?!

What part of this kind of flirting is appropriate for this relationship? Don’t get me wrong, I am all for the overt, intense flirting options. Especially when it makes some stoic hunk of a man stammer and blush. Yes. YES. Sign me the eff up, please.

But these are childhood friends, former BFFs, who (as far as we’re aware at this point) were not romantically involved. They also have neither seen one another in some indeterminant number of years nor stayed in close contact. They’ve drifted apart -- considerably. Even if MC stuck around for the poker game in chapter 4, they’re still not really close. Even if there’s an attraction between them and had been one before Tatum shipped out, there’s no precedent for this kind of behavior.

So why the hell is MC insinuating that they’ve both had sexual partners and coquettishly dragging their fingers up his arm. How does that make sense for these two? Why would an overly forward MC applying a ton of pressure on a man who is already somewhat uncomfortable in his role because he’s struggling with balancing who MC used to be to him and who they are now be a good example of flirting?

Seriously. Tell me. I need to understand what the hell is going on here. Because it only gets worse with that awful “as long as you’re not vanilla in bed” nonsense. These would’ve been more appropriate farther down the line in their rekindled relationship. Maybe after there’s been more romantic development. When Tatum has more consistently reciprocated. Because it’s not well timed, it’s even more awkward and shiver-inducing. I’m not sure that vanilla sex one would’ve ever been good, even if it gives me hope for a kinky af Tatum scene in the future (I will pay good 💎💎💎💎💎 for that).

(This sort of awkward, forced affection is also why leaning in for a kiss in chapter 2 is super cringe. Tatum can barely look at MC and they’ve only been reunited for a couple days. Don’t try to kiss the dude for the first time, okay?)

What makes these two terrible offerings even more obviously terrible is that the next two in this scene are almost perfect.

Now wait. Here me out. I’m going to explain.

“I’ve been a bit lost without you” is an example of what all of the flirting should be like between Tatum and MC, at least for now. It’s a nostalgic sort of flirting option. It appeals to their shared memories of their friendship and how much they meant to one another. The “here together as adults” one could have gone this route and, rather than being something that would make me unbelievably uncomfortable if someone said that to me in real life, it could have been a moment for MC to talk about how it’s a time for them to get to know one another and the people they’ve become. Without their parental overlords looming in the shadowy near-distance.

But we already know you didn’t take that route, so... way to waste an opportunity there, PB. We’ll just add it to the pile of other missed opportunities, shall we?

Anyway. Tatum’s response to “lost without you” is also good, if not a little spoiled by his intense gaze and hitching breath. It shows that he cares about MC in a way that goes beyond the whole bodyguard/VIP thing they have going on now. It’s a lovely exchange that speaks to the hope of being able to pursue something more with someone who has already played a significant role in their lives.

And I also argue that MC wiping the ice cream from Tatum’s lips is a strong flirting moment because MC doesn’t make a big deal out of it. They don’t lick it off of their fingers while awkwardly maintaining eye contact or sit there with their mouth millimeters from his or, y’know, lick it off him. They do their thing, maybe drag it out a little bit but not an aggressive amount, then sit back, and leave Tatum going 😳. It’s a great example of one of the more forward, assertive flirting options that doesn’t take things too far.

Unlike the first two options.

IN SUM: Less of the first two kind of things. The flirting options that are just wholly inappropriate for the characters, the relationship, and the setting, and make you feel disgusting when you choose them. More of the thoughtfully considered options and reactions that correctly demonstrate the growing (or already established) connections between the two people involved.

Please. Thank you. Bye.

#choices foreign affairs #long post #really long post #choices #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices fa #foreign affairs #the flirting is bad #pls stop

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starlightkenobi · 4 years

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can i get a master anakin x Padawan reader and maybe the sexual tension between them has been growing and then he finally snaps he’s like 🥺 dominant and reader has a praise kink 🥺

😩💦💦💦 hell yes, dom anakin is my SHIT ! and praise kink ? fuck. me.

a/n: im actually really proud of this and i like it a lot,,,,if yall like this maybe ill go feral and make part two 🤫😉

update: i made a part 2 ! here it is :)

My Padawan // Anakin x Reader (Part 1)

rating: explicit

warnings: dom anakin, prasie kink, some subspace although it isnt explicitly mentioned

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Anakin Skywalker. Your master, the guy you were madly in love with, the only person that you felt truly saw you. He consumed your thoughts 24/7. Some of your thoughts were innocent, while others...not so much. You were in a constant turmoil over whether you wanted his mouth to softly press against yours or to devour you in between your legs. Right now, both seemed like appealing options. You wanted to be with him, wanted to really show him how much you care for and appreciate him. However, you were unsure if he was willing to break the Jedi code for you. Maybe, you thought, you would have a chance with with him in another universe. But here, you were bound by a code both you and your crush swore not to break. Even still, you longed for Anakin in any way you could have him. You longed for him to take you, to decide what he wants to do with your body. You wanted him to absolutely destroy you and then shower you with love afterwards. How could breaking the code be so bad anyways if-

“Hello?” Your head snapped up as you were dragged from your thoughts. “I was trying to compliment you, and here you are off in a different galaxy.” Your eyes cautiously met his, apologetic and embarrassed.

“Sorry, master. You know how I can get lost in my head sometimes.” You chuckled awkwardly, hoping he couldn’t sense how desperately you were craving him right now.

“Yeah, I know all too well.” Anakin laughed and your heart practically melted. His laughter was intoxicating, and his smile could change your mood in an instant. Damn, he’s so beautiful-

“Hey!” Anakin snapped his fingers. “Don’t let me lose you again. Anyways, what I was trying to say is that you did really well today and I’m very proud of you.” You smiled and blushed.

“Thank you, master.”

“I know this mission has been very tedious and hard on you, but you’ve really impressed me with how well you’ve handled it.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks even more somehow, and you cleared your throat. His praise would have been endearing, had it not been for the arousal stirring between your legs. You crossed them uncomfortably.

“T-thank you, master. It really was nothin-”

“I’m serious. You’ve become such a beautiful person, and I couldn’t be more proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’re going to make an incredible Jedi master someday, far better than I could ever be.” Anakin smiled genuinely, and reached out to grab your hand.

Your mouth was open slightly in shock. You had no idea how to respond or if you should just accept the compliments. The wetness you could feel gathering between your legs also wasn’t helping. “I...don’t know what to say.”

Anakin chuckled. “You don’t have to say anything.” Suddenly, Obi Wan cleared his throat from across the room, startling both of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I assumed that you both would like to know that we’re almost back to Coruscant.” Obi Wan looked between you and Anakin, seeing your hand held tightly in his. He gave a disapproving glare before turning on his heels and leaving the room.

You felt his grip release your hand and looked back up towards him, your eyes glassy and pleading with him, some last desperate attempt to have his hand back on yours. As much as he wanted to do much more than just hold your hand, he was bound by the code. Still, deep down you knew that he could only keep his resolve for so long. Soon enough, he was going to break.

And hopefully, soon after that, he would break you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Again, you awoke in a sweat, desperate with your fists tangled in the sheets. You were dreaming of Anakin all over you, inside you. This wasn’t something new to you. You were used to the fragmented and constantly interrupted sleep that was plagued (or blessed...yeah, you decided to go with blessed) with vivid dreams of Anakin taking you apart piece by piece. They felt too real, too tangible to be just a dream. Maybe they were visions, you pondered. Then again, maybe that was just the hopeful side of your brain taking over. It didn’t matter right now. Either way, you were stuck, alone in your bed craving a man who took an oath to never take you.

A knock on your door startled you, and you stayed silent. Who would be knocking on your door at almost three in the morning anyways? Your question was answered soon enough.

“I know you’re awake, you know. I could here your thoughts all the way from my quarters.” Anakin spoke from the other side of your door. Well, this wasn’t ideal. He was probably referring to your dream, in fact, you were sure of it. Great, so he came to reprimand you for thoughts that you not only couldn’t control, but were extremely embarrassed by.

“If you’re going to scold me, then you can just leave.” You rolled over, prepared for the sound of his footsteps getting further from your door.

“Why would I do that? You��d much rather that I praise you, isn’t that right?” Your breath caught in your throat. Scolding is one thing, but mocking you? That was just downright cruel. “I’m not mocking you, little one.” Your walls shot up, immediately guarding him from what was in your mind. In your half asleep state, they were down. Clearly that was a mistake. On another note, Anakin wasn’t mocking you. That was a surprise.

“I’m coming in.” You sat up in your bed and saw the door swing open almost impatiently, his pale skin shone in the moonlight, and you were sure yours did as well considering the sheen of sweat you were still in. His eyes sparkled with adoration or lust, you weren’t quite sure, as he made strides to sit beside you on the bed. You waited patiently for him to say something or make a move. He appeared to be pondering his words very carefully, something that he didn’t often do.

“I can sense your fear.” He brought one of his hands to rest on your thigh, a thin sheet preventing you from feeling his large hand on your skin. “Fear of what will happen if we break the code, if the council finds out.” A short, dry laugh escaped his lips as he was clearly amused with what he was about to say. “Even fear that I didn’t want you.” Your eyes widened, maybe he really did want you. “Don’t ever think for a second that I don’t want to have every inch of you, because I do.” He could see you practically melting before him with every word that tumbled from his lips. His lips, they would feel so soft and warm pressed against yours. Your composure chipped away and it took every fiber of your being to not lunge at him and kiss him passionately.

The hand that rested on your thigh traveled to your cheek, and you leaned into his palm affectionately. The relief of skin to skin contact, it was divine. You wanted more, you craved more. You would take absolutely anything he gave you. “You’re so gorgeous, padawan. My padawan.” Before you could stop it, you moaned softly. It was a moan of relief and pure bliss. His voice, his touch, it was consuming you and you couldn’t do anything but let yourself be enveloped in the feeling.

“You like that, huh padawan? You like feeling smaller than your master.” He cooed shifting his body to position himself closer to you. “Maybe you just like being called mine. Because you are. You are mine in every sense of the word. Your mind, your body, everything you are working for and everything you have been taught belongs to me.” You were slipping, deep into a head space that you couldn’t escape. You wanted to give him everything you had just so that he could take care of you. You craved that feeling of belonging to him and only him. “In the same regard, I belong to you, my padawan. As your master, it is my duty to guide you, give you everything you need.” Anakin’s breath fanned over your lips and you shuddered, opening your eyes to see him inches from your face. “Do you need me, my padawan?” You nodded, too dazed and entranced to form words. “Use your words, little one. I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you, master.” You mumbled, eyes half shut with lust.

“Good girl.” His lips crashed against yours.

#anakin smut #anakin x reader #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi

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