On the other hand, the complete lack of a coherent storyline or believable character motivation can sometimes have its benefits. Such as when this
inexplicably turns into this
which in turn leads, somewhat more naturally, to this
and then - now making complete causal sense - to this
I do love me some wanton man-on-man snogging. If it doesn't make sense, you must acquit.
It's not like I pulled it out of thin air.
It's alright to hold hands in public, really it is!
I think someone on the interweb - who apparently shares my taste - called Warren Brown an 'adorable little muffin'. Funny thing is, being a former professional Thai boxer who has won the WAKO Pro World Title, he would probably defeat Idris Elba in a fight, unless the latter has some serious martial arts credentials I haven't heard about. Difference in size and weight notwithstanding.
Actually I wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall for that - not that I would prefer for them to fight, of course. Except if the manhandling led to something else.
Just kiss, already.
Title: Fits and Starts
Fandom: The State Within
Category: m/m slash
Pairing: Nicholas Brocklehurst/Mark Brydon
Word count: 3,237
Warnings: None that I am aware of
Author’s note: Unbeta’d and only my second fic in English, ever, so er… this will undoubtedly show, but I’ve done my level best. Concrit welcomed!
I’m sure many writers and readers in this fandom care about plot, realism, and good storytelling. Questions like ‘what are they doing at that hotel’ and ‘what would such shenanigans mean for their professional relationship?’ spring to mind. I swear I also care about such questions occasionally. Now is not one of those times. What you get here is decidedly PWP. Dramaturgically unsound, smutty fluff-smut this way lies.
Summary: Nicholas realises he wouldn’t mind having sex with Mark Brydon. Mark’s supposedly being straight poses a bit of a challenge. But nothing insurmountable.
( The salesman sits down opposite the soldier... )
And that, gentle reader, is the gist of some of the so-called 'arguments' made by male commenters in the discussion thread of this post. And these are the men who say they don't hate women. With friends like these who needs sadistic misogynists?
You know when a person's facial expressions all give off the impression of subtle, good-natured humour and complete, relaxed self-reliance?
You know when a person's body language and timbre of voice add to that impression?
And you know when that person also has absolutely ludicrously attractive arms?
That's when I'll watch a series that really doesn't do anything for me, just for their appearances.
Not since Alien have I seen someone carry themself with so much natural coolness.
And to top it all off, she pairs up with goddamn Jeremy Renner of all people - it's like watching some parrallel universe in which arms are all unbelievable. Wow. Look at all those lovely arms!
I did take one thing away from it, though:
Well, well, well.
It's a fallacy that people who care about rape culture must necessarily have been raped. I am one of the lucky people who has so far not happened to be in the vicinity of a rapist (at least not one who got the opportunity), yet I cannot remember a time in my life when rape culture was not a paramount concern to me.
I have always been galled at the way everyone present would jump to the conclusion that I was a survivor whenever I talked about the vileness of rapists and rape culture. Not because being a survivor is something to be ashamed about, which it obviously isn't, but because the assumption that rape culture is of no consequence to people who haven't been raped is so appallingly stupid and offensive.
It is offensive because it presupposes that if someone was raped, they must have done something wrong. The existence of rape can only be irrelevant to me if I am not in danger of being raped, and the only way for that to be the case is if there is some right way of acting that will keep a person safe from rape. Some rape-avoidance rules that survivors failed to observe. And that, as we know, is bullshit.
Do we, the ones who've been lucky so far, not live with the constant threat of rape? And more importantly, do we not empathise with those who were not lucky enough to not encounter a rapist? I know that what happened to survivors might just as easily have happened to me, and that any rapist would use the exact same justifications for raping me as they did when they raped others. So I am affronted, personally affronted, that rape exists. It is at best completely illogical to be anything else. At worst it is victim-blaming, pure and simple.
In the comments, I've been talking to a fan of the film who opines that it is not sexist for the film to have so few women and to not have any of the women talk to each other. OK. One might possibly argue that. But how do they argue that? Let's see.
What is their defence of the film not letting two women talk to each other? Well, the director "didn't have infinite time on his hands," you see.
( Translation for those of you who don't speak misogynese )