#I love one (1) Big Lady who Kills and her Smaller Husband who also likes to kill

[saturno-sol]

The Brainrot has gotten to me

WELL HERE YOU GO FOLKS (almost) ALL MY NOTES ON WYRMTHREAD (Chantilly/Quezal) both in Canon and in a Happier AU because yes Most put under a readmore because its over 1K long and the very end has some suggestive things because I’m allowed to think like that too so just as a heads up

Anyways here

Canon Codex

Do not establish a relationship outside of a blooming interest in each other that gets nipped in the bud due to...yeah cries 

So let us not delve too deeply into Canon rn, and sadly since the plot absolutely needs Chantilly gone to progress we turn to HAPPIER AUS!!!!! :DDDDD because I drove myself deep into brainrot and aoughhhhghhhghhhhghh

Songs I associate with canon because music is good- 

I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE by Tyler the Creator

Mr Loverman by Ricky Montgomery

Rest Easy, I’ll See You Again by Cuco (the title is a LIE) 

Pain by Pinkpantheress

La Gata Bajo la Lluvia by Rocío Dúrcal

The Night We Met by Lord Huron (thank you Jaxx) 

Noche No Te Vayas by Los Tres Caballeros 

Better Timeline AU!!!! 

Placeholder name but honestly it might stick because I’m too lazy to think up of a better one hghfdnkj, am open to suggestions tho

Basic Premise of this AU: Through some magic fuckery or whatever, Chantilly is allowed out of the Troupe and decides to tag along with our funky wyrm gal because nowhere else to go/hrnng big lady pretty. They actually do start going out and it turns out hey! They like each other, like a lot. 

They like each other so much that they get married and bam, WyrmThread real 

This is great because not only is my otp now canon and alive, Fuego (and later on Lune when Fuego adoptskidnaps them into the family) now has both parents! And they love their kids sm like damn do not get in between them else you want to get yeeted to Unalive World. 

In this one, the motivations for [REDACTED] have now morphed into somewhat the same way in terms of being dealt with but now we got the lacey boy to help Quezal do [SPOILERS], fight [SPOILERS] and help complete [SPOILERS] and help establish her empire. (I’m sorry but I am not revealing any important Codex spoilers yet)

“Will you be the Malfina to my Connecticut Clark?” 

Girlboss and Malewife, except they’re both still murderous and would happily see you to your grave if you intervene with any of their plans. I’ve given Chantilly throwing knives :) because he deserves to be dangerous. 

He deserves to look cool!! With knives!!! Fighting alongside his wifey!! 

Of course NKG fucks off when Chantilly leaves the Troupe but I love to think of him being akin to a disapproving in-law (“Really Chantilly?? You run off and marry some wyrm that didn’t even have a kingdom to begin with? Have the standards of the Nightmare Vessels deteriorated as time went on?”) 

Chantilly is somewhat concerned that Fuego is much more, for lack of a better word, feral than a regular Grimmchild would be but he doesn’t regret the decision to have him. He loves his bitey son even if he scratches through fabrics like water. 

And Quezal enjoys having another person to coil around and snarl at anyone that gets too close to them. It does take a while until they’re like velcro due to her issues with touch being equated to violence (Thanks dad /s) but once she overcomes that fight or flight response she absolutely does not let go of him. 

Burrowing into a dark place and nuzzling until he smells like her makes Wyrm brain go brr. And since he isn’t a wyrm there’s no instinct yelling at her to maim him if there’s no babies to take care of/mating season passed, he in her eyes is harmless. Even if they both know different, at least in her brain he is just a lil guy, no threat to her. 

Chantilly loves all the attention he’s getting from her, absolutely will allow her to carry him off and coil up against him as long as he can work on sewing while she broods over him. 

He’s naturally warm and for a wyrm that needs outside heat to regulate her inner temp like a snake he’s like a hot water bottle, world cold husband warm. 

Happby family can these Queers be HAPPY PLEASE 

Love languages!!! 

Quezal once she gets comfortable with physical stuff likes to nuzzle and bite :) but not to draw any hemo or cause harm, just to hold in mouth. She also likes to do acts of service, making sure that her husband is wont for nothing and doing little things like sharpening his knives for him. 

Chantilly loves to gift-give! Usually things he made by hand. 

“Quezal pls let me make you pretty dresses and outfits please you would so look good in teal” 

He likes kissing a lot, smoochies for wife and cuddling is great for him too, as long as he can sleep with his chest unobstructed he’s good 

They both love showing each other off

“Look at my partner they’re the fucking best ever, none of you bitches can compare to them.” 

When the empire is finally formed and Quezal takes her place as Empress she offers the title of Emperor to Chantilly 

He declines, Royal titles are just not his thing and he feels uncomfortable with them, so instead he goes by the title of “Lord”

His duties consist of assisting with any paperwork Quezal doesn’t want to deal with and being eye candy (/j but also not really he loves being shown off esp in new outfits) 

He also deals with nobles that aren’t too pushy, the ones that do are quickly steered towards Quezal. And usually after a meeting with her they learn better than to try to smart mouth either of them. 

Family Notes!

Chantilly’s the one to go to if you need advice and soothing comfort

Quezal’s the one to go to if you need someone beat the fuck up and also advice but in the no nonsense way. 

She also comforts but it's not in the way that Chantilly will delicately soothe the pains away, she tells you how it is but will hug you and tuck you into bed if wanted. 

On the other hand, Chantilly is the one Fuego and Lune go to if they want to do something crazy or stupid and know that mom won’t say yes. 

He dresses them up in poofy outfits (see the clown costume I’ve thrown on Fuego as an example) and shows them off to Quezal 

“Look my dear! Aren’t they the sweetest things you have seen!” 

It is very funny 

SONGS I ASSOCIATE WITH THIS AU

Meet Me At Our Spot by WILLOW

First Love/ Late Spring by Mitski

I Hear A Symphony by Cody Fry

She’s My Collar by the Gorillaz

My Kind of Woman by Mac DeMarco

New Light by John Mayer

Vivir by Jardin

coffee by Miguel

Never Getting Rid of Me from the Waitress Musical

WARNING WARNING

Ok next few am going to be a bit suggestive so stop here if you’re not into that but

I’m debating on if they’d have more children than Fuego and Lune and if so, how many HDJFJKSJ (thinking of twins named Arco and Iris because Arcoiris means Rainbow and I kind of like that and I’m also a sucker for twins) 

Listen, they’re both switches but most if not all the time Quezal’s the one topping. The man is submissive and breedable what do you expect HDJFJS

s i z e  D i f f e r e n c e 

Chantilly is a sensual romantic and loves a lot of buildup while Quezal just wants to get on with the good stuff, they make it work with communication and understanding each other :) 

They’re both capable of carrying so if they did have more kids I’d imagine they’d take turns on who’s turn it is to be eggy. (And I have so many thoughts about how they’d treat each other while pregnant but HHHHFJFJFHHHF too embarrassed rn waagaghgg) 

These two love each other very much and I love them. 

[butterflies-dragons]

oh j0nryas know about balticon report, they just think he was being coy (asdjkahs same delusion with s/ns/ns), that he was rambling bc he was trying not to give spoilers. at this point he could go on live and say "no dumbasses there is no j0nrya, there won't be, there never was" (same w pedoships) and they will all be like "omg it is definitely happening in twow, look at how he's trying to divert our attentions, we are onto you george hehehe"

OK let’s review, again, chronologically, all the times that GRRM was being coy and trying to divert his readers’ attention regarding the ships you mentioned:

The “It could be very different things to each of those involved” Alternative: “Mind you!”

JUNE 24, 1999 THE HOUND AND SANSA

Moreta12: I understand, I’ve heard your opinion on that. In ACOK, it seems that the relationship between the Hound and Sansa had romantic undertones. Is that true?

GeoRR: Well, read the book and decide for yourself.

Moreta12: I’ve read the book and I’ve debated those particular scenes with a few others. Half say that it’s romantic and half say it’s platonic. I’ve taken the romantic stance.

GeoRR:  It could be very different things to each of those involved, mind you

Moreta12:Yes, but it seem like evidence points towards romantic undertones. Will the Hound appear later?

GeoRR: Yes, the Hound will be in STORM OF SWORDS. In fact, I just finished writing a big scene with him.

[Source]

The “Why are you asking me about Sansa’s sexuality?” Alternative 1: “Are you really asking me when your fave male adult character can fuck a girl, 15 years younger than him, without guilt?” Alternative 2: “Why are you so gross?”

OCTOBER 05, 1999 AGE OF SEXUAL RELATIONS IN WESTEROS

The nature of the relationship between Sandor and Sansa has been a hot topic on Revanshe's board. Sansa's youth has been one focus of the discussion. What is the general Westerosi view as to romantic or sexual relationships involving a girl of Sansa's age and level of physical maturity?

A boy is Westeros is considered to be a "man grown" at sixteen years. The same is true for girls. Sixteen is the age of legal majority, as twenty-one is for us. However, for girls, the first flowering is also very significant... and in older traditions, a girl who has flowered is a woman, fit for both wedding and bedding. A girl who has flowered, but not yet attained her sixteenth name day, is in a somewhat ambigious position: part child, part woman. A "maid," in other words. Fertile but innocent, beloved of the singers. In the "general Westerosi view," well, girls may well be wed before their first flowerings, for political reasons, but it would considered perverse to bed them. And such early weddings, even without sex, remain rare. Generally weddings are postponed until the bride has passed from girlhood to maidenhood. Maidens may be wedded and bedded... however, even there, many husbands will wait until the bride is fifteen or sixteen before sleeping with them. Very young mothers tend to have significantly higher rates of death in childbirth, which the maesters will have noted. As in the real Middle Ages, highborn girls tend to flower significantly earlier than those of lower birth. Probably a matter of nutrition. As a result, they also tend to marry earlier, and to bear children earlier. There are plenty of exceptions.

[Source]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 1” Alternative: “The much more important lapse in memory that was promised”

JUNE 26, 2001 SF, TARGARYENS, VALYRIA, SANSA, MARTELLS, AND MORE

[GRRM is asked about Sansa misremembering the name of Joffrey’s sword.]

The Lion’s Paw / Lion’s Tooth business, on the other hand, is intentional. A small touch of the unreliable narrator. I was trying to establish that the memories of my viewpoint characters are not infallible. Sansa is simply remembering it wrong. A very minor thing (you are the only one to catch it to date), but it was meant to set the stage for a much more important lapse in memory. You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom… but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it’s a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on.

[Source]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 2” Alternative: “It doesn’t mean what you think it means”

OCTOBER 05, 2002 SANSA’S MEMORY

[Note: This mail has been edited for brevity.]

… this is an inconsistency with ASoS more than an outright error. In ASoS, Sansa thinks that the Hound kissed her before leaving her room and King’s Landing. In ACoK, no kiss is mentioned in the scene, though Sansa did think that he was about to do so.

Well, not every inconsistency is a mistake, actually. Some are quite intentional. File this one under “unreliable narrator” and feel free to ponder its meaning

[Source]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 3” Alternative: “Better ask yourself about Sansa’s psychological state”

NOVEMBER 27, 2007 GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ANSWERS YOUR QUESTIONS

Here’s a really particular question (which I realize means it probably won’t get asked in a general interview): In A Storm of Swords, there is a chapter early on where Sansa is thinking back to the scene at the end of A Clash of Kings when The Hound came into her room during the battle. She thinks in the chapter about how he kissed her, but in the scene in A Clash of Kings, this actually didn’t happen. Was that a typo or something? —Valdora

GRRM: It’s not a typo. It is something! [Laughs] ”Unreliable narrator” is the key phrase there. The second scene is from Sansa’s thoughts. And what does that reveal about her psychologically? I try to be subtle about these things.

[Source]

The “The answer is No” Alternative: NO!

APRIL 15, 2008 FUTURE MEETINGS, POVS, ARYA’S ROLE, EASTERN LANDS, AND ASSASSINS

[Will Sandor and Sansa meet?]

Why, the Hound is dead, and Sansa may be dead as well. There’s only Alayne Stone.

[Source]

The “He’s a lot more dangerous than he is romantic” Alternative: “BUT THERE IS SAM!”

AUG. 21ST, 2009 AS SER JORAH MORMONT… - NOT A BLOG

weltraummuell: The Hound Oh please don’t cast an old guy for the Hound, his scenes with Sansa are so romantic and erotic, I couldn’t bear if it’d feel creepy all of a sudden. Well, that’s me making demands. LOL

GRRM: Re: The Hound Old guy? No, but… the Hound is still a whole lot older than Sansa, and was never written as attractive… you know, those hideous burns and all that… he’s a lot more dangerous than he is romantic.  

kestrana: The Hound Yeah its a “girl always wants the bad boy” kind of thing although Sansa seems to pull something else out of him. It feels so wrong sometimes but I want to see them together again tee hee.

weltraummuell: The Hound Hehe, George, maybe you didn’t intend it, but he turned out to be a very erotic character to female readers. Especially since he’s mutilated and dangerous. Makes him unpredictable and vulnerable which is the most explosive aphrodisiac for a girl’s fantasy. ;)

weltraummuell: The Hound And I know from discussions on other board other women feel just the same about Sandor. He’s an absolute favourite with the ladies!

halfbloodmalfoy: The Hound LOL, you’re such a man. To many of us women, dangerous *is* attractive.

GRRM: The Hound But no one has any love for poor old Sam Tarly, kind and smart and decent and devoted…

[Source]

The “That’s interesting...” Alternative: “They are deeply troubled individuals, Harriet”

22 JUNE 2012 SWORD & LASER VIDEO PODCAST

GRRM: I am sometimes surprised by the reactions, of women in particular, to some of the villains. The number of women over the years who have written to me that their favorite characters are Jaime Lannister or Sandor Clegane [the Hound] or Theon Greyjoy… All of these are deeply troubled individuals with some very dark sides, who have done some very dark things. Nonetheless, they do draw this response, and quite heavily, I think, in the case of some of them, from my female readers in particular.

Veronica Belmont: I’m a big fan of the Hound, myself, actually.

Tom Merritt: Of Sandor? Really?

Veronica Belmont: Yeah, the Hound… Maybe it’s not because I feel any compassion towards them, I’m not really sure what the attraction is. Ah, I’m not going to call it attraction, actually. Let’s just say it’s a fascination, perhaps.

GRRM: [Chuckles] Well, I mean, fascination is one thing, but some of these letters indicate that there really is like a romantic attraction going on there. And I do know there’s all these people out there who are, as they call themselves, the “San/San” fans, who want to see Sandor and Sansa get together at the end. So that’s interesting, too.

Tom Merritt: The TV show has sort of played with that a little, and probably stoked those fires.

GRRM: Oh, sure. And I’ve played with it in the books. There’s something there, but it’s still interesting to see how many people have responded to it.

[Source]

The “I guess I don’t understand women” Alternative: “I'm shook”

JUNE 23, 2015 GRRM Q&A AT THE SCIENCE FICTION BOOKSTORE IN STOCKHOLM

Question: “Is there any fan reactions that you have been surprised by, like is there a character that’s more popular than you thought or have people been shocked by something you didn’t think we would be shocked at?”

GRRM: “I’m reasonably certain what people will be shocked by. I knew that the Red Wedding would provoke a big reaction and it did. I was pretty confident that, you know, throwing Bran out the window and then killing Ned in the first book would get reactions, and indeed they did. All of those worked exactly the way it did to the extent that things that have surprised me, they tend to be smaller things. I guess I… Maybe I should not have, I don’t know. How do I phrase this without getting myself in terrible trouble… I guess I don’t understand women, but I was definitely, you know, way back when, surprised by the number of women who reacted positively to characters like Theon and the Hound as dashing, romantic figures. The san/san kind of thing took me by surprise, I must admit, and even more so the women who, and there are some, who really like Theon. So that surprised me.”

[Source]

The “Comfort level of femininity” Alternative: “That's not a reference for romance”

MAY 29, 2016 BALTICON REPORT 

My con friend asked about the Jon/Arya relationship again and brought her (impressive) Game book that had all of her references marked out with little flags. She brought up the Ygritte connections to Arya that Jon saw in her. George did not directly answer yes or no if there would be anything romantic between the two.

George did say, despite what readers see as clues to a romantic relationship between Jon/Arya in the books themselves, he did not confirm this so easily but inferred that what Jon saw in Ygritte was a comfort level of femininity. <<<  She and I obviously discussed these comments after the meeting and this was the general feeling.

My con friend was referring to George explaining Jon’s perception: GRRM replied, “You know, I don’t think it’s a reference for that [for romance]. It’s a reference to a certain physical type, and  a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It’s like someone who reminds you of, you know… Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn’t put him off because he is used to that.”

The “I was making up shit.” Alternative: "I wish I can delete that"

MAY 29, 2016 BALTICON REPORT 

After the Coffee Talk just outside the room:

My Con Friend asked about Arya and Jon again. This time GRRM gave some very pointed replies:

GRRM finished (in the hallway now) by saying that he “wished some past things weren’t such strong foreshadowing,” and that he, “wished some new things had stronger foreshadowing then.”

Friend: Ok, if you foreshadowed something in the first book, like, really cleverly hidden, would you then follow through on that hint? For sure?..

GRRM: “Well, this goes with what I said before, the story changes and expands as I write. I wish I was able to go back and make revised drafts, but that’s not going to happen.”

Here is a transcript of the outline discussion and Jon/Arya portion of the coffee talk:

[question about Jon/Arya]

GRRM: “Alright, you’ve thought about this more than I have. I mean it’s simple, Jon is very fond of Arya. They were the two odd birds in the Stark family nest, here. They didn’t quite fit in with the others, they look like each other, they both had the brown hair, you know, as opposed to the auburn hair of Sansa and Bran and Rickon and Robb. So there was always that closeness between them. And, you know, Arya didn’t mind that Jon was a bastard, and Jon didn’t mind that Arya was a tomboy, so there is that closeness there.”

[question about Jon comparing his lover to his sister]

GRRM: “If he did it, uhm… I began writing these books in 1991, and, uhm, I worked on it in 91 and then I got a tv play, so I put it aside to really work on ‘Doorways’ tv pilot and did a tv show in 92-93. In 94 I returned to it [the books] and worked on it. You know, up till then, in my career as a writer, I’d always written the entire book before I opted for sale. That’s unusual. Most writers do chapters and an outline. They write a few chapters, they outline the rest of the book, give that to the publisher and the publisher says ‘oh okay, I’ll take that’.

“As some of you may have noticed, those who have been paying very, very carefully attention, I’m not good with deadlines. And, uh, and I’m not good with outlines, either. I always hated outlines. So with Fevre Dream and with Armageddon Rag and with Dying of the Light and all my novels, I wrote the entire book. I didn’t do chapters and outline. I sat down, I wrote a whole book, and I sent it to my agent and said ‘Look, here’s a whole book, and it’s finished’. That way I ran into no deadline, it was finished before it even went on the market. And it worked well for me. And my initial thought was to do this the same way, but what happened, you know, was in 1994, uhm, when I returned to it and I’m working on it and I’m very enthused about it and I say ‘I really wanna write these Game of Thrones books as the next part’. But I was still in Hollywood and I’d just lost all this groundwork on ‘Doorways’, I was still in… The studios and networks still wanna work with me, so I’m getting other offers, like ‘We want you to write this movie’, ‘we want you to do another tv pilot’. And, you know, I took a couple of them and was ‘Oh god, I gotta have to put the book away again’. Cause I have no deadline [for the book]. You know, when you think Hollywood, they will give you a deadline, you know, they say ‘here, son, write this movie, we want it in three months’.

“So, I said ‘look, if I wanna get back to being a novelist, I’m gonna have to sell this even though it’s not finished’. So I had my 200 pages of Game of Thrones at that point, but they wanted outline. I said ‘I don’t do outlines. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, I figure it out as I go. And that’s how I always did it.’ No, we had to have an outline. So I wrote two pages, a two-page thing about what I thought would happen. It’ll be a trilogy, it’ll be three books, Game of Thrones, the Dance with Dragons, and Winds of Winter. Those were the three window titles. And, uh, it’ll be three books and this’ll happen, and this’ll happen, and this’ll happen. And I was making up shit.

“And I had thought that those two pages were long forgotten, because, of course, the books did sell. They sold in the United States and in Great Britain, both. They sold for enough money that I didn’t have to take any more Hollywood games. So I was able to say ‘no’ around. I had a few less [?] to wind up in in 94 and 95. Once I had, I said ‘no, I don’t want any more movies or tv shows, I’m going to write these books now’. And I started writing the books. And in the process, I pretty much disregarded the outline. The characters took me off in entirely different directions. So, for 20 years I had forgotten that that two-page thing even existed. And then someone in my British publisher, HarperCollins, they got a new office building, uh, brand new offices, and new conference rooms, big conference rooms that they decorated with books and stuff like that. And they named the conference rooms after the writers, so one of the conference rooms [?], and they put up these plastic display cases, including the outline. The two-page outline, yes. [?], they didn’t ask my permission, they just put it up. And in that two-page outline, Jon and Arya become a romantic item.”

“You know, I don’t think it’s a reference for that [for romance]. It’s a reference to a certain physical type, and  a certain indication of what Jon finds admirable. It’s like someone who reminds you of, you know… Other people might be put off by this, you know, hair that looks like small rodents have been living in there. It doesn’t put him off because he is used to that.””

[someone says they have 5 minutes left]

“You know, I was pretty pissed that that outline got out there. It should not have happened. Outlines and letters like that are meant only for the eyes of the editor. They shouldn’t go on public display. And, uh, they also [?] my papers on [?], all my papers and correspondence. You know, I’ve been sending that stuff there for years, and it’d be, you know, available for future scholars or whatever, just like the papers of many other writers. Somehow, in the back of my head I was like ‘yeah, 20 years after I’m dead some scholar will go in and find them’. They’re going in right now!”   ”

[question if he is still going with the 1991 ending]

“Yes, I mean, I did partly joke when I said I don’t know where I was going. I know the broad strokes, and I’ve known the broad strokes since 1991. I know who’s going to be on the Iron Throne. I know who’s gonna win some of the battles, I know the major characters, who’s gonna die and how they’re gonna die, and who’s gonna get married and all that. The major characters. Of course along the way I made up a lot of minor characters, you know, I, uhm…Did I know in 1991 how Bronn, what was gonna happen to Bronn? No, I didn’t even know there’d be a guy named Bronn. I was inventing him along the way when I was writing, ‘Okay, he gets kidnapped. Let’s see, there are a couple sellswords there, their names are Fred and Bronn’.

“It was actually Bronn and Chiggen, and then one of them dies, I flipped a coin ‘okay, who dies? Chiggen dies, cause his name is stupid. Bronn is a better name, so I’ll keep Bronn’. And then Bronn became quite an interesting character and plenty of these characters take on minds of their own. They push to the front till you [?] speech and you think of a cool line and you give it to Bronn because he’s trying to talk, and now Bronn is somebody who says something cool. [?]. That’s how characters grow on you. “So a lot of the minor characters I’m still discovering along the way. But the mains-”

[question if he knows Arya’s and Jon’s fates]

“Tyrion, Arya, Jon, Sansa, you know, all of the Stark kids, and the major Lannisters, yeah.”

This report appears in the following sources:

fattest leech of ice and fire blog [Source 1]

asoiaf.westeros.org [Source 2]  

westeros.org [Source 3]

The “Unreliable narrator - Part 4” Alternative: “I think I had enough...”

DECEMBER 2016 ASKING GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ABOUT SAN/SAN

My question is regarding Sansa Stark. Her sexuality has evolved through every book and yet the memory that seems to stick the more with her in this regard is the night of the Blackwater. So I was wondering if you can expand on your view on what this is, since as before that night her interactions with Sandor Clegane weren't really physical.

The night of the Blackwater, yes. Ahhh... Well, I'm not going to give you a straight answer on that hahaha... Uhmmm, but I would say that ahhh... you know a television show and a book each has its own strengths and weaknesses; there a re tools that are available to me as a novelist, that are not available to people doing a television show. And of course there are tools available to them, that are not available to a novelist, I mean they can lay in a soundtrack, they can do special effects, they can do amazing things that I can't do, I just have words on paper. What can I do, well I can use things like the internal narrative, I can take you inside of territories... thoughts, which you can't do in a TV show... Ahhh... You just have the words they speak, you see them from outside because the camera is external, while prose is internal, and I have the device known as "unreliable narrator"... Ahhh... Which again, they don't have. So, think about those two aspects when you consider that night of the Blackwater. 

[Source]

Most of these questions make me think of Nabokov having to clarified, regarding Lolita, that he didn’t write a romance..........

So there’s that, everyone can draw their own conclusions.  God knows that in this fandom: “We look up at the same stars, and see such different things.”  

Thanks for your message.

[libsterslobsters]

What Is And What Should Never Be Pt 4

Summary: After what was supposed to be a week-long mission (but stretched on for over a month), during which she found out more about their "little stranger", the reader is more than happy to welcome Bucky home.

Also, I suck at summaries.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! Super-soldier Reader

(Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Language, pregnancy, smut, fluff

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Series masterlist

--------------------------‐----------

“They should be calling me back soon.”

 It’s not the ideal way of communicating with your husband while you’re waiting impatiently for  an ultrasound in your OB-GYN’s office, but texting is all she has, so it’ll have to do. A week long mission has stretched into four and a half weeks, and although they can’t share phone calls (anyone could be listening in), texting has received the all-clear. She’s grateful that, for the sake of this doctor’s appointment, it’s nighttime in his part of the world, so he’s tucked safely away and can at least somewhat experience this with her.

 “I’m gonna give these guys hell for making me miss the chance to spy on our girl.” She chuckles at the message on her screen before typing back her own.

 “What are you going to do if it turns out we’re having a boy?” Since the day she told him she was pregnant, Bucky’s  been convinced this baby is a girl, but they don’t know for sure. Despite trying her best to concentrate on anything her visions can tell her, she’s come up blank. For all they know, the “little miss” they’ve been talking to for the past few months is really a little mister.

 “Teach him how to treat a lady instead of teaching her how to throw a punch.” She snickers. It’s a good response. Still-

 “You do realize she’s the child of two super soldiers. She could have the worst right hook in the world, and the other person would still walk away with a black eye.”

 “Barnes?” That jerks her attention away from her phone. The nurse is standing just outside the waiting area, eyes searching the room. On instinct, she glances around her, making sure no one has reacted to her last name. She’s not the most recognizable of the Avengers, but still, she’d rather not have the world know she visited the obstetrician today. If anyone has put two and two together, they’re doing a good job of hiding it so, readjusting her shirt in an attempt to hide her bump, she stands and follows the nurse out of the room.

 For what feels like the millionth time, she gives her full name and date of birth. The nurse’s eyes widen in recognition, but other than that, she keeps it professional.

 “Just wait in here, hon. Someone will be right with you, okay?”

 “Thank you.”

 The ultrasound room is small, barely more than a broom closet, but at least she’s away from prying eyes. So, she hops up on the table in preparation and takes advantage of the time alone to read the latest message.

 “It’s still a valuable life skill. If she takes after her Mom, she’ll be a looker. I want her to be able to make people think twice before they forget their manners around her.” The message brings a smile to her face, but also makes tears prick at her vision.

 “I wish you were here.” As quickly as she types the sentence, she erases it. He’s simply not able to be here, and that’s all there is to it. No need to make him feel bad about something he’s already beating himself up over.

 The door opens, this time revealing the same ultrasound tech she met at her first appointment. There’s another round of name and date of birth, then settling onto her stool next to the machine, the tech asks,

 “Did you want to know the gender if we’re able to tell today?” When they discussed it, she spent a solid fifteen minutes convincing Bucky that yes, this is a thing they can tell just from those black and white pictures, no she’s not pulling a prank on him, they can find out if they’re having a boy or a girl before the baby’s born. Ultimately they decided-

 “Yes.”

 It’s only the second time she’s been in this position, so everything is still relatively new. A warning about the gel being cold, the pressure of the ultrasound wand against her, and then the screen coming to life. This time around, the baby actually looks more like a baby instead of a blob, and as she watches, she sees a hand go up.

 “You’re feeling movements at this point, right?” She nods. “Good.”

 Starting at the head that still looks far too large, they work their way down the body, different images being captured over every organ. Then-

 “Are you ready to find out if you’ve got a little boy or a little girl in there?”

 She pulls up her phone and rapidly types, “About to find out he or she.” then answers.

 “Yes.”

 There’s a momentary pause, then-

 “Congratulations. Looks like you have a little girl.” This time there’s no stopping it. The tears spill over.

 “Sorry.” She swipes at her cheeks. The tech offers her a sympathetic smile and offers her a few tissues, which she readily accepts.

 The scan goes on for a few more minutes, picture after picture being filed away. Finally, the wand is removed and the tech informs her,

 “I’ll have to confirm with the doctor, but everything looks good. Did you want some pictures to take with you?”

 “Yes, thank you. That would be great.”

 The machine spits out a few images which are torn off and handed to her.

 “I’ll give you some privacy to get cleaned up. Someone will be with you shortly to take you to an exam room, okay?”

 “Thanks.”

 The tech stands and starts towards the door. Hesitating just outside it, she turns.

 “By the way, I couldn’t help but recognize the name on the file.” Oh. Here it goes. “I just wanted to say we really appreciate all you’ve done. The other Avengers too. My little girl loves to pretend that she’s the Soothsayer and runs around telling me, “Mom, I had a vision.” “

 She laughs, a mental picture forming in her mind of a smaller version of the woman in front of her wearing a Halloween costume version of the Soothsayer uniform.

 “That’s good to hear. I’ll pass the word along to the team.”

 The tech disappears down the hall and she cleans herself up. Holding up the clearest ultrasound image, she snaps a picture and attaching it, texts, “It’s a girl.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

 He’s been staring at his phone for the better part of the last four hours but still, Bucky can’t bear to look away. The picture isn’t the best, a little blurry around the edges, but it still has his full attention. That, and the text attached: “It’s a girl.”

 “That thing’s gonna die on you if you don’t put it away soon.” He chuckles in response to Sam’s words.

 “We’re only half an hour out. Somehow, I think I’ll make it.”

 “What’re you staring at anyway?” He hesitates for a moment. Sam knows their big secret, as does Wanda, but so far no one else has caught on. Is it okay for him to share this? His gut tells him that it is, so he holds up his phone, careful to tip the screen so that only Sam can see it.

 “Oh.” Immediate recognition blooms on his partner’s face. “That a recent one?”

 “Yesterday.”

 Not looking away, Sam continues.

 “You know, I sorta thought you were joking before, trying to throw me off what’s really going on, but I guess it’s true.” His eyes narrow, and it’s obvious when he reads the text on the bottom. “A girl?”

 Bucky couldn’t hold back his smile if he tried.

 “A girl.” He would’ve been okay if his hunch turned out to be wrong, but now that he knows for sure that they have a daughter on the way, he’s excited. Excited… and terrified.

 “Damn.” Sam chuckles. “It’s too bad you got rid of the long seventies hair. She could’ve put flowers in it when you play tea party with her.” He snickers. If this baby, his daughter, does indeed want him to have a tea party with her in a few years’ time, he’ll do it, and do it gladly. Hell, he’ll even wear a feather boa and funny hat if that’s what she wants. The world may think that his job is to be an Avenger, but he knows that his real job is at home, taking care of his two girls.

 Eventually the never-ending flight home does indeed end and, after bidding Sam and the rest of their squad goodbye, he climbs into his car and starts the engine. He thinks about shooting her a text letting her know he’s on his way, but the clock on the dash reads four a.m., and he decides it’s best to let her sleep. She’ll more than likely wake up when he crawls into bed next to her anyway since she’s such a light sleeper.

 As the miles pass, his weariness from the mission fades with them, quickly replaced with anticipation. During the war, when his buddies would hang onto the hope of receiving a letter from their sweethearts or wives and once the letter did arrive, keep it close to them, often inside their jacket pressed close against their hearts, he didn’t get it. Sure, there were people at home he missed, and even a few girls he’d had dates with who sent the occasional note, but these guys were so attached to that scrap of paper and the words scrawled across it that they’d read so often, they could recite them at the drop of a hat, and that it just didn’t make sense to him. Well, now it does. Instead of letters, he has texts and voicemails, a few pictures taken over the years of them together (or the occasional snapshot he’s sneaked when she wasn’t paying attention because really, it would be a crime not to capture how perfect she looked right then for all eternity), and most recently, the image of his unborn daughter. Whatever he’s had to do that day, whatever is weighing him down, he knows that it’s all for them, and that makes the load seem bearable.

 Finally, he pulls into his driveway. Killing the engine, he climbs out, leaving his duffle bag full of dirty (and smelly) clothes to be dealt with tomorrow. Right now, he’s on a mission; infiltrate the house quietly, shower covertly, and then crawl into bed with his two girls.

 Parts one and two of his plan go easily enough. He removes his shoes at the door to decrease the chances that she’ll hear his footsteps and takes the stairs agonizingly slowly. The guest bathroom is missing a few key items (like razors; god, he needs a shave), but it has soap and shampoo, so he’s able to shower. The one key element he forgot about is that he doesn’t have any clothes located in this part of the house but, as he tiptoes into their bedroom, he realizes he’s in luck. The closet door is open and- he stifles a chuckle- a pair of his pajamas is laid out on his side of the bed. Looks like she had a vision that he’d be coming home tonight. At least she didn’t wait up.

 After tugging on the bottoms (he disregards the shirt; somehow, they always end up migrating towards the center of the bed, and with her so close to him, he’ll be more than warm enough), he pulls back the covers and eases into bed. Sure enough, she immediately snuggles closer, pressing her back against his chest. He’s not sure if she’s awake until-

 “Welcome home, stranger.” Her voice is rough with sleep, but he can still hear the smile in it.

 “Thanks, Doll. It’s good to be back.” He readjusts his flesh arm to wrap around her waist, his hand instinctively falling to caress the swell of her middle (much larger now than it was four weeks ago), and he’s just about to close his eyes in hopes of getting a few winks when he feels it.

 At first, he thinks he’s imagining things it’s so soft, but then it happens again. A nudge against his palm, harder this time. It takes a moment for him to realize what’s happening, and when he does, he can’t help the shaky breath he exhales against her neck.

 “You okay?” He means to reassure her that he’s fine, but instead what comes out is-

 “She’s moving.” As if in response, he receives another kick.

 “Yeah. She’s saying hello to her dad.” He knew that she was feeling the baby move thanks to a text sent two weeks back, but this is the first time he’s been able to feel it himself. And it’s… unbelievable.

 “Does it hurt you at all, sweetheart? Is it uncomfortable?” She chuckles softly.

 “No, it doesn’t hurt. The only time it’s uncomfortable is if she gets my kidneys, or if I’m trying to sleep.” Which is what she should be doing now.

 Without thinking, he sits up and, leaning over so that his cheek is pressed against the bump, he murmurs,

 “Hey, little miss. This is your Dad. I can’t wait to meet you.” Her hand comes down to cart through his still-damp hair. “Tomorrow, we’ll talk again and you can kick me some more, but right now you need to calm down so your Mom can get some rest. She’s got a big job, looking after me and growing you all at the same time. So why don’t you settle back in and go to sleep, and me and Mom will try to do that too?” He receives one more kick for his efforts and then… stillness.

 “I’m never going to hear the end of this am I? How she already listens to you?”

 He chuckles and eases back down on the bed, pulling her against him once more.

 “Never.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

 “… Mom told me to run, and then took off. Didn’t know if she was crazy or an enemy agent or what, so I ran after her.” The words are barely above a whisper, so quiet that she wonders if she’s still dreaming. However, a stirring in her middle settles the matter. She’s awake. This is real.

 “I know. Looking back on it, I probably didn’t make the best first impression, but cut me some slack. It’s not every day the woman you just walked into thirty seconds ago tells you there’s an ambush waiting for you on the next street up. And you should be glad I chased her down. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.” Is he-

 “Not that I’d recommend going up to strange men and saving their lives, Little Miss. It’s a good way for someone to get hurt. Probably not you if Banner’s right about the serum being passed down from parent to child, but still. Not a smart idea.” Yes, it’s exactly what she thought. He’s talking to the baby. “Of course, if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll kick their ass. Or Mom will. One of us. The other one will stage the scene so it looks like an accident. And, that’s probably something I shouldn’t be telling you on the off chance you’re hearing any of this.”

 “She has ears now.” Her voice is hoarse from disuse, and she grimaces at the sound of it. “Week eighteen’s when they start to work. She can hear us.”

 Blue eyes peer up at her, startled, before melting into the familiar, soft expression he usually wears around her. “Hey, Doll. Did I wake you up?”

 Shaking her head, she reaches out, covering his metal hand still resting on her middle, with her own. “No. She did.” As if in reply, there’s a bump against their palms, and a smile spreads across his face.

 “Yeah. I felt her kicking when I woke up, so I thought I’d try to calm her down for you. Looks like it did just the opposite.”

 “No, you succeeded.” With a yawn, she stretches. “Usually she’s ready to rumble at six a.m. This is an improvement.”

 A mock frown crosses Bucky’s face. “Now listen here, Little Miss. There’s a limited amount of driving your mom crazy that can happen in a twenty-four hour period, and since I’ve known her longer, I’ve got seniority. You’re gonna have to dial it back by an hour, thirty minutes at least in the mornings. It’s not a smart idea to piss off your landlady.” Apparently, their little one doesn’t agree. His eyes go wide at the sudden, strong movement. “What-”

 “She rolled over.” And, that brilliant, genuinely happy smile is back

 “That’s…” He searches for the right word. “...amazing.” It is, but if she focuses on it, she’ll start tearing up, and now’s not the time for a hormone-fueled crying jag.

 “She’s usually active in the morning. Settles down after breakfast.”

 He chuckles. “Is that your way of saying you’d like me to get you something to eat?”  Oh, that sounds good. She has some fresh fruit in the refrigerator, but there’s also mint chocolate chip ice cream in the freezer, and then there’s ramen noodles, which she kind of wants to eat raw for some reason… but no.

 “I’ve got it.” She starts to sit up, but doesn’t get very far before he’s easing her back down.

 “No you don’t. I’m home now, so I can get back to my real job.” Pecking her forehead, he stands. “Taking care of my girls.”

 “Get back here.” It comes out more petulant than she meant it to, which is probably why he pauses just outside the doorway and turns back around to look at her. He didn’t bother with a shirt last night, did he? And those sweatpants… she shakes her head to clear it. “You need your rest.”

 He raises an eyebrow. “I think that’s my line, Doll.”

 How many days worth of scruff is that, she wonders. The last time he’d let it grow out that long was when they were on that mission in Siberia. It was cold as fuck, and even with their enhancements making them more resilient to the weather, when they finally got back to their hotel room that night, they were nearly frozen solid. The heat wasn’t doing a great job, and so the only logical way to stay warm was to completely undress and lie as close as humanly possible in bed under all the blankets they could get their hands on. Of course, naked cuddling usually leads to naked making out, which lead to what is now a very vivid memory of exactly how that stubble felt between her thighs-

 “Which one of us is growing a human right now?” The question snaps her out of her lecherous daydreams. The hormones. That has to be what’s causing this sudden boost in libido.

 Clearing her throat, she shoots back, “Which one of us just spent a month getting shot at?” A month. It’s been a whole month since the last time they did anything in this bed other than sleep. She’s fully capable of getting off by herself, but her fingers are a poor replacement for-

 “Forget it, solnyshka. You’re not gonna win this one. You’re staying in bed. That’s final.” She’d have something to say about him telling her what to do, but that commanding voice… it’s probably best that she stay in bed. At this point, she’s not sure her legs would hold her up.

 “Fine.” It comes out shaky, but it doesn’t appear that he notices.

 “Anything in particular you want?” Yeah, she can think of a few things. “Are you still having food aversions-” Oh. He’s talking about food. “-or has that cleared up?”

 Grabbing hold of her last shred of sanity, she gasps out, “Anything’s fine.”

 He smirks. “Great. Sauerkraut and pickled pig’s feet it is.”

 She’s not sure if she manages a laugh, too busy staring as he walks away. Dammit. She needs to take a few deep breaths, get a hold of herself. With a frustrated groan, she pushes back the covers and climbs out of bed. She needs to splash some cold water on her face. Oh, and pee. She’s constantly peeing.

 The vision hits her just as she’s dabbing her face with a hand towel. He’s leaning over the stove, cooking… are those pancakes? It’s domestic and sweet and infuriatingly, it riles her up even more. Muttering curses in several languages under her breath, she returns to bed and pulls the covers over her head. Maybe if she concentrates on her slight annoyance that he’s cooking shirtless, which is a damn good way to get yourself burned (of course, they heal fast, so it’s not a huge concern), it’ll help her ignore the ache between her thighs.

 Fifteen minutes later when she hears his footsteps on the stairs, she feels like she’s about to spontaneously combust. With a huff, she sits up and attempts to appear normal. As soon as the door opens, she knows it’s a lost cause.

 “Here you go. Pancakes, bacon, and tea.” Setting the tray on the nightstand, he climbs back in bed next to her.

 “Thanks.” It’s nothing out of the ordinary, him leaning towards her, cradling the back of her head with one hand as he kisses her. It’s not unusual for her to wrap her arms around him, nearly pulling him on top of her as she probes his lips with her tongue, begging for entrance. It’s not even odd for the kiss to go from innocent to filthy, his teeth teasing her bottom lip, making her gasp and tug at his hair. What is odd is that, with a chuckle, he pulls away.

 “You’d better eat before it goes cold.”

 Smirking, she hooks the chain holding his dog tags (and his wedding ring, still hidden safely from his mission) around her finger and gives a tug. “You know, there’s this amazing new device called a microwave…”

 His lips curl up into a knowing smirk. “Oh, so that’s what you’re after, huh?”  She feels heat rise to her cheeks as she nods. Luckily, she doesn’t have long to feel embarrassed before his lips are on hers once more.

 She can’t contain her gasp as he pushes aside her panties, fingers trailing over her heat. “Sweetheart, you’re drenched.” A moan escapes her as the tip of one cool, metal finger enters her. “Why didn’t you tell me you needed this earlier? I’d be more than happy to help you out.”  His palm grinds against her clit as, slowly, he begins to thrust his fingers into her.

 Her hand clamps down on his wrist. “Fuck! Bucky-”

 He shushes her, lips trailing wet kisses across her jaw. “Just relax. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

 That’s all well and good, but as he eases a second finger into her, the thin, cotton tshirt that’s covering her upper half feels far too restraining. “Please-” She gasps out. “-don’t tease.”

 “I’m not.” A peck to her nose. “I’m not teasing you.”

 “Yes you-” A shudder passes through her as his fingers nudge against her g-spot. “-you are.”

 A sigh fans over her exposed collar bone. “I don’t want to hurt you, Doll.”

 Gathering all her willpower, she tugs his head down to her level. “James Buchanan Barnes, I am not made of glass. If you don’t get inside of me right now-” A particularly well-aimed thrust of his fingers makes her gasp.

 “Alright.” She suppresses a whimper at the sudden emptiness. “How do you want it?”

 Her gut screams to tell him, “Anything! Just get on with it!” but a lazy movement in her middle jogs her memory. She can’t comfortably be on her back at this point, and it’s been a month, so she wants to see him…

 “I could ride you.” His eyes turn a shade darker at her words, pupils blown with lust.

 “Well, I’m not gonna say no to that.”

 She’s briefly apprehensive as, after kicking off his bottoms, he eases the t-shirt from her body. She looks a lot different than the last time they did this. What if he doesn’t like-

 “Fuck.” His bottom lip slips between his teeth. “Yeah, you’re definitely on top so I can look at you.”  And just like that, any residual fear melts away and she can’t push the final offending garment from her body fast enough.

 Once he’s resting propped up against the headboard, she takes him in her hand, making him hiss, and slowly, carefully, settles on top of him.

 “Oh, fuck.” She’s not sure which one of them moans, too overwhelmed by the sensation of once again, having him inside of her. Finally. Getting used to the feeling, she circles her hips.

 “Shit.” At any other time, she’d make a joke about how desperate he sounds, but right now… grasping his shoulders for leverage, she gives an experimental rock against him… she’s beyond teasing.

 In the beginning, she sets an easy pace, but with one of his hands grasping her hips, the other one trailing over her middle towards her breasts to tease at the swollen flesh, it doesn’t take long until she’s completely lost, moving against him like her life depends on it.

 “That’s it. Take what you need.” She’s not sure if it’s the words or his thump passing over one sensitive nipple that drives her over the edge, but before she can so much as utter a warning, her orgasm crashes over her.

 When she opens her eyes, she realizes that he’s staring at her, awestruck. “That’s the first time you’ve been able to cum without-” Oh. She didn’t realize, but neither of them have so much as brushed a thumb against her clit. Her surprise must show on her face, because he grins. “Oh, we’re definitely gonna have fun with this.”

 After that, she loses count of how many times she hits her peak, too lost in the feeling of their bodies moving together. One of the advantages of the serum is that they both have incredible endurance, but this is different. It’s something primal, a need she didn’t realize she had being met. Finally, after coming down once again, she wilts against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

 “Tired, solnyshka?” She nods, not lifting her head. His chest rumbles with a quiet chuckle, one she doesn’t have time to understand before she’s being lifted off of his cock and placed gently on her side. A whine escapes her at the momentary loss of contact. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’m not going anywhere.” His body curled around her, he eases back into her, making her hum contentedly.

 After doing all the work so far, she can’t help but think to herself that it’s nice to just lay back and let him take her, his hips snapping against hers as his cock nudges against her g-spot.

 “Do you think you’ve got one more for me, Doll?” His voice is gruff with effort. He’s close, she can tell.

 No sooner has she murmured a quiet “yes” than his hand is between her thighs, fingers toying with the bundle of nerves. Her walls contract, and with a strangled cry, he follows her over the edge.

 It takes a few minutes for her to come back to herself, for the murmured words of approval and “I love you”s to have any meaning, but eventually she does recover and, offering him a lazy smile, she whispers, “Welcome home, Barnes.”

[tropical-gothic]

To the world

Angel/Demon AU headcanons for Yasha and Sasori

@multisasori Well, it’s technically a Good Omens AU. Take a guess on who’s the demon (who is just a little bit of a good person), and who’s the angel (who is just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing).

Special thanks to @thatshipcat for fueling these headcanons and for sharing quite a few that I’ve incorporated here.

1. Angel and Angel turned Demon

Sasori started out, like all demons, as an angel. That was, until he made one fateful trip down to earth to Babylon.

“I’ve received a notice about a tower outside building regulations—-“

Said tower may or may not have been the base of a handful of demons. The angel who came to inspect may or may not have liked the aesthetic—- Sasori thinks he would look more beautiful in black, even if his beauty was already beyond mortal comprehension.

“Where is Sasori?” Yasha had long since finished his own job, and ended up stumbling on a bunch of confused people who couldn’t seem to understand each other. “He’s never been late.”

“Yasha,” rang a voice in his head, with some static— likely calling from an underground source. “Can’t make it back today. I’m being indoctrinated into demon hood. I’m going to have such awesome black wings.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Yasha said, brushing his own white wings. They looked awesome enough to him. “Okay, you stay safe.” The static stopped and Sasori’s voice disappeared. Yashamaru sighed. “Michael’s going to be pissed.”

2. The Aesthetic

So, there are good and bad things that come with the whole demon aesthetic, Sasori realized.

Yes, black looked absolutely wonderful in him. He was drop dead gorgeous and people have even more languages now to tell him how beautiful he was. Except that he wasn’t a fan of the whole… snake skin issue. That was Orochimaru’s thing and somehow that becomes everyone’s thing as well (at least in “Akatsuki”— which Sasori also found a cool name for demons).

But it definitely wasn’t Sasori’s thing. He complained to Yasha about it often enough— even carved himself his own set of wooden clogs. Better the clogs than snake skin— /oh, okay, all shoes become snake skin when I wear it. Perfect./

Another thing Sasori liked about being a demon was the black wings that came with the indoctrination. It was his color, after all, and it made him feel larger than life— even if the wing size didn’t actually change.

Except that demons didn’t quite groom their wings the way angels did and Sasori did not take to change very well. So he still kicks down the door of whatever mortal space Yasha is occupying on earth and insist that he help Sasori comb the spots he can’t reach.

Which Yasha does, with a certain gentleness that Sasori will never admit to liking.

3. The Black Plague and the Renaissance

Somewhere during the Middle Ages, Sasori was convinced that Yashamaru was an angel of death (the last heavenly meeting he was in, they were discussing this— though no one was assigned the part… as far as Sasori could recall). Either that or he was just a strangely morbid angel.

See, the guy always hovered very close to death. Be it a war or this century’s plague that’s ravaging Europe. Not that Yasha would admit to it—- he insisted that it was because this was where people needed the “comfort of God’s love” the most. (That may be why Sasori has worked a few miracles here and there too— keep them alive long enough for them to become selfish bastards again.)

“You need to get out more,” Sasori said, poking at the bird beak of the angel’s protective suit. “Air this out so you don’t smell like death. We won’t be able to have dinner if you smell like that.” Yasha would pout— but he would miracle out of the fashion disaster and into better clothes.

Yashamaru, on the other hand, was convinced that Sasori has made it a project to influence every art movement on earth. He’s always there when the big ones happen— so Yasha knows that something will happen after the plague (that would be called the Renaissance, later on).

“Back when these black wings were still new, I used to create my own gods— and have humans create them as well. Give their offerings of gold and blood to these beautifully carved idols.”

Yasha doesn’t believe him, of course. Sasori likes to create things and finds things beautiful— in and of themselves, without the work of temptation weaved into them. Sasori wouldn’t listen, of course, so Yasha just gives a few words of encouragement every so often.

4. The Antichrist

Sasori’s biggest assignment to date was a delivery. A package of sorts, straight from hell. He was to deliver the Antichrist— the Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of This World, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Darkness.

Straight forward job— get the parcel, dive around town in his new car (which matches his aesthetic and even has a name), switch it with someAn other pre-selected baby, perhaps get a tip for the fast delivery service. Well, it should have been a straightforward job. Except that Sasori took a peek a the baby.

And was, perhaps, a bit more taken by the tuft of red hair, the large green eyes, and the little arms that reached out to him, than he would like to admit.

In another part of the city, Yashamaru was predictably hovering near death once more. This time, it was the death of a mother— still young, with blonde hair, and two children waiting for her at home. There should have been a third child, but the baby has already been wheeled into the ICU, and then wheeled out looking even smaller and a lot more limp. The little one had been born too early.

Yashamaru hovered near death, and stood beside her husband— a tall and stern man who bore the heavy weight of grief. It was too early to think about the future--- if he thinks of a life without his wife, it might come true. They were both leaning against the wall by the glass window, waiting for the hemorrhaging to stop— for better or for worse, when—

“So, Yashamaru,” Sasori suddenly appeared, sticking his head through the window. “What sort of diapers do you think the Lord of Darkness would prefer?”

“I— what? Wait— Sasori, now is not the time. I’m in the middle of—— /oh, he’s so cute./“

“Right!”

For a moment, Sasori told Yashamaru about Hell’s plans to bring the Antichrist over and then eventually the end of the world. With some added gloating as Sasori was won’t to do. For a moment, Yashamaru considered what to do with the child— now that the babe was in front of him. Ethically speaking? Morally speaking? As an angel? He should have the answer to this, innately, but he doesn’t. If the Antichrist were to kill everyone—-

“Excuse me?”

For a moment, Yashamaru and Sasori forgot that there was another person standing close by.

“You’re not humans?” the human asked.

“Oh no! We’re absolutely—“

“Of course, we’re not,” Sasori shrugged. “He’s an angel, I’m a demon, and this is the antichrist.”

“Right…” Yashamaru refused to let go of his smile. Positive thoughts.

“You can do miracles,” Rasa said, pointing to labor and delivery room. “My wife. She needs to live. We’ve already lost the baby.”

Sasori leaned close to Yasha— “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I’m thinking that we’re imposing on a family undergoing the worst tragedy of their lives.”

“Worst tragedy so far—- but that’s a stupid thought. What I’m thinking is that— I take the dude’s soul back to home with me and the world gets to keep the lady.”

“Sasori! That’s deplorable!”

“He’s handsome!”

Yashamaru smacked Sasori on the side. “Focus! I don’t even know what we’re thinking about— I understand this is a great deal for this family. But the greater deal is the future of the whole world. And that’s dependent on him—“ he pointed at the little red haired baby, who was making little spit bubbles while they deliberated his fate.

“You’re right,” Sasori nodded his head. “We should adopt him.”

“What! No— “ Yasha said, more than a little taken aback. “I don’t think we’re ready for this responsibility. The finances alone— did we ever settle that diaper question? Wait! No, we can’t— we’re not allowed to intervene in human lives. Raising someone would count.”

Sasori paused. “How about indirectly?”

They both turned to the human who looked too confused to follow the conversation.

“What’s your name?” Sasori asked.

“Rasa.”

“Okay, Rasa. He can get your lady love back from the clutches of death—“

“Sasori—“

“Make it happen, Yasha. But in return, you have to take this little one.”

Rasa looked at the child. “The Antichrist?”

“Yep. And he also comes with two godfathers. If we are to prevent him from realizing his full powers which could annihilate all of us and cause the end times, then we need to be present in his life as well.”

“That’s a lot to take in,” Rasa said. Nevertheless, he took the child and cradled him. Rasa told himself that this was the child they had been waiting for— even if the circumstances weren’t as expected.

“So—“ Yasha turned to Sasori, “we’d be like godfathers, then!”

“Yasha, go save the girl.”

“Right!”

Bonus:

“You’re telling me,” Sasori said, rocking the antichrist to sleep (for his parents who were fast asleep and too tired to tend to the child). “That she thinks you’re her brother? I thought she was an only child.”

“I panicked!” Yasha said, placing the milk into a tiny cup. “She asked who I was and I couldn’t say I’m an angel… I gave her good childhood memories if that’s any consolation.”

Sasori sighed.

[anogete]

In Between

Hi, folks.  I’m sorry I have nothing to offer as far as fic goes.  Things have been... ::sigh::  You know, I don’t know what things have been.  Not good, not bad.  Just... things.  I wanted to talk--get things out of my head--this morning, but I realized I don’t have a person/outlet who can accept these things right now.  So, I will put them here for anyone who cares to read them.

1) My car blew up.  Well, the engine did.  I was on my way back home with groceries last Saturday, and I lost all ability to accelerate and brake.  So, I puttered out on the side of the road and waited to be saved.  The issue may be covered under the warranty so I had it taken to the dealership.  They’ve had it for a week and still don’t have answers for me besides an offer to lend me a car for free until they can figure out what to do with my car.

2) This deserves it’s own point, though I almost included it on the first point.  I’ve never bought a car without my grandmother.  She was under five feet tall and had a tendency to wear sweat pants and Christmas sweaters year-round.  She smoked Winston Lights and carried a purse covered in rhinestones.  The car salesmen didn’t know what hit them because she wasn’t at all the sweet old lady who would roll over and accept their first offer.  She was hard to read and she wouldn’t give an inch.  She also wouldn’t tell them what she was willing to pay.  No counter offers from her; she’d just tell you to “do better.”  Anyway, she worked her magic when I bought all three of my cars.  When I realized the problem with the engine was serious and might require me getting a new car, I went into a mental tailspin.  Yeah, yeah, I was worried about fitting it into my budget and all that, but mostly I couldn’t seem to cope with buying a car on my own without my grandma there to hold my hand.  I’m almost 39 years old and the thought of doing this without her had me sobbing in the floor.  Except, I didn’t realize my tailspin was due to my grandmother at first.  At first, I just thought I was incapable of handling stress.  Maybe that’s still accurate.

3) While we’re talking about expensive-ass shit, I knew the air conditioner and furnace on this house needed to be replaced sooner rather than later when I bought it last February.  It looks like the time has come.  I managed to find a nice man with very odd hair (think a longer version of the Prince Valiant hair-do, but bright white) through my boyfriend’s dad.  He does this for a living and said he’d give me a discount and do for $5,000 what other places were telling me would cost $9,000.  So, that’s happening next week.  I have the money, but the idea of writing a $5,000 check makes me want to puke.  Ugh.

4) The days are running together.  I’m working from home.  I can’t complain, though.  I’ve got it better than most.  I’m alone all day.  I have a library with a desk.  I can go downstairs and make tea or lunch in my own kitchen.  I’m getting paid my full salary with bonuses.  I can pretty much make my own hours.  The company I work for is taking the pandemic seriously and has told us that we can all work from home until we feel comfortable returning to the office.  Their timeline for “normal” is months.  I don’t think I’ll be back in the office until late summer, if that.  Those who want to return are permitted to, but they can’t use the public areas (kitchen, conference rooms) and have to abide by some strict safety requirements.  And they can choose when and how often they go into the office, working the remainder of the time at home.  So, better than most.

5) I’ve been doing this social distancing thing since March 19th.  It’s not difficult for me.  On good days I’ll exercise (I have a Peloton) before logging into work around 9am.  On not-good days (which seem to be more often than not), I’ll skip the exercise and just log into work early.  Work keeps me busy and I spend a decent amount of my day on the phone with clients.  I go to the grocery store once a week, but I order for pickup.  Someone else does the shopping for me and loads it into my trunk.  This is nothing new.  I’ve been shopping that way for years.  Now it’s just harder to get my usual pickup slot because everyone else has joined the party.  I do miss taking a break from work and leaving my office to grab a coffee and sit outside on a bench downtown.  I guess I could do that outside my own house, but it just doesn’t feel the same.

6) A few months ago, a husband and wife who are clients came in to meet with me at my office.  They’re in their 80s and both were having trouble walking.  They parked in the garage next door and couldn’t find the elevator to exit.  I walked over and escorted them to our office building.  They were both struggling with walking and the wife (Rose) had been fighting lung cancer for a couple years, so I suggested they wait outside and I’d valet their car once we were done.  The thought of making the trek to their car alone was painful to me because it was a monumental struggle for them to walk down a hallway.  Their daughter-in-law called me two days ago.  Rose passed away two weeks ago.  The husband, a former literature professor for a university, was in the hospital with four broken ribs because he’d fallen shortly after Rose’s passing.  He was a Jewish child in Nazi Germany during the war.  He’d told me stories about hiding from the Nazis, surviving off of tree bark and whatever he could find in the forests.  He also jokingly told me that he’d live until he was 120.  Now, it looks like he won’t survive the year.  He and Rose would tease each other all the time, but you could see all that love between them. Whenever I’d call him, he’d ask me in that wonderful accent to wait while he got “the boss” on the phone as well.  Rose thought it was silly that she was “the boss,” but she humored him.  You know, they’re shorties, too.  Five foot, nothing.  Just like my grandma.  Hearing that Rose was gone and Dr. (he’s a PhD) was likely soon to follow just broke my already fragile heart.

7) Fragile heart, huh?  Yeah.  After the car situation and the realization that one day I’m going to have to do big life things without having my grandma to help me, I was feeling pretty raw.  But I’ve been trying to be responsible and do things I’ve been putting off lately.  So, I gathered up all those medical bills from Ferguson’s illness last September.  (Ferguson was my soulmate little chihuahua mix that I had for over 13 years.)  I had pet insurance on him and hadn’t bothered to make the claim because I couldn’t handle it.  But it’s been almost a year so I pulled out the invoices, which were over $2,000, and logged into the website and starting inputting the info to file the claims.  The little box asks for a description of why I took him to the vet.  And answering that question just brought back all that shit like a wave.  I remember reading this nice description of grief and how it is like waves.  At first they’re big and they knock you around and you can’t breathe.  But over time they get smaller and you learn how to navigate them.  Still there, but manageable.  Filling in that box resulted in a bit of a tidal wave that knocked me on my ass.  My boyfriend came home to find me sobbing at my desk like a lunatic..  He’s... not so good with emotional shit.  And I usually keep it bottled up so that no one knows what’s going on inside me.  But some days...  Some days it just overflows.  So, after confirming that nothing terrible had occurred and that I was reliving September 2019, he slowly backed out of the room to leave me with my grief-wave.

8) I want to be one of those succulent people.  You know, the ones who have succulents lining their windowsills.  The dining room and kitchen windows are full of this oddball little plants.  The boyfriend hates it, but I told him he’d have to deal.  I’ll die on this hill.  I’m a succulent lady.

9) I’ve been reading memoirs or, rather, memoirs through collections of essays.  I don’t know if it’s the mental state I’m in or if social distancing has got me subconsciously reaching out for life beyond my head, but I can’t seem to read much else.  I loved Liz Phair’s Horror Stories.  I’m reading The Book of Help by Megan Griswold right now.  I’m determined to procure a signed copy of What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Blacker by Damon Young.  He did a virtual event for a local bookseller recently and they have signed copies available for purchase.  I just need to muster up the will to call them and ask them to hold one for me.  The little snippets of their life and experiences via these memoirs through essays bring me some measure of comfort.

10) I tried to watch Euphoria on HBO.  I managed to make it through the first episode, but I don’t think I can watch more.  I can’t relate, but that normally isn’t a necessity for an enjoyable story.  Maybe it’s just too depressing for me right now.

11) I binged Dollface on Hulu and wish I had more to watch.  Parts of it hit me hard.  I’ve always had trouble maintaining friendships, period.  But maintaining friendships while in a relationship has been damn near impossible for me.  Just like Jules.  Except, I’m not nearly as cool or gorgeous as Kat Dennings.  And I have no friends in this city to go back to.  Just friends at work. 

12) I haven’t worn makeup for 2 solid months.  I’m starting to miss it.  I found old selfies I’d taken in which I don’t recognize myself.  Did I ever look like that?  I must have since here is photographic evidence.  I look like shit now.  I’m forever in yoga pants and a hoodie with half-wet hair from the shower.  Maybe putting on a pair of jeans and a cute shirt and some makeup will make me feel like a human being again.  Maybe I’m not doing as well as I thought in quarantine.  Huh.

13) I hope you all are well.  If you’ve sent me a message, I’m so sorry for not responding.  My mental state has been delicate lately and the silence from me has nothing to do with your kind words.  I promise I read and treasure and appreciate anything that is sent to me.  I’m also sorry for having no offering of fic or a promise of something to come.  I haven’t written since last summer.  It’s been almost a year.  I guess I’m in a dry spell.

14) Since I’ve been struggling with loss/grief lately, I’ll leave you with a quote from Philip Pullman, taken from his novel The Amber Spyglass.  It’s about death, I suppose.  Or maybe just a transition to something else entirely.  It’s nice to think of my grandma and Rose and my sweet, sweet love of a dog falling in the raindrops and riding on the wind through tall grass.  If it wasn’t raining, I’d take my computer outside right now.

“Even if it means oblivion, friends, I'll welcome it, because it won't be nothing. We'll be alive again in a thousand blades of grass, and a million leaves; we'll be falling in the raindrops and blowing in the fresh breeze; we'll be glittering in the dew under the stars and the moon out there in the physical world, which is our true home and always was.” 

[queenofgotham800]

Little-Big Fights (1/3)

(Roman Sionis x Reader)

Warnings: Gramatical Errors, Swearing, Blood, Deaths, Lots of fighting, cheating, Angst

Summary: You got into fight with your husband Roman Sionis after he flirted with few girls in Black Mask club. After he nearly hits you, you decide to leave him, joining the Birds of Prey. In the final battle you will decide.

Part-1 Part-2 Part-3

You were standing in front of circus tent in ruines of amusement park, thinking why is destiny treating you so bad.

Yesterday in Black mask club...

Roman was flirting, kissing other womans in club, while you saw it. Your heart broke, but you didn't cried. Victor came to you, covering your sight of Roman.

"You don't have to look at it, you know," he took your shoulder and turned you away from your husband.

"I know Vic, and you don't have to do this," you sat on the barstool, while Victor ordered you drink.

"Hey, he is just doing business," Victor hugged you as first tear from your eye dropped on floor. You looked on Roman again, who was smacking ass with hand of some random slut.

This was just too much.

"I am sorry, I have to go," you stood up from barstool, going up to your and Roman's apartment. You wanted to break something as anger boiled in you, and when Roman came back from the club for some papers to apartment, he found you sitting in his chair in living room. He came to you, leaning to you for kiss, but you slapped him.

"Are you fucking serious Sionis?" you stood up in anger and watched his surprised expresion.

"What the hell? What did I did again?" he asked, while holding the hurted spot on his cheek.

"You were literally flirting with those girls, touching them on intimate places, while I stood next to you in club.." you looked at his eyes.

"But they were just business, babe..." Roman rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, you call those sluts business, even when they are just common people of Gotham? No criminals, no business. You told this last time, remember?" you frowned, and left to kitchen. Roman followed you, while shouting on you, "Yeah? And this is my fucking club! I can do whatever I want here!" he lifted hand, ready to hit you, but then he stopped, catching his head. You backed a bit, with slight fear in your eyes. He never hit you, he never even wanted. How did you both got into this situation?

Without thinking, you put down the ring that he gave you off your finger and put it on table. "Oh, come on, hit me!" you came closer to him, looking into his blue eyes, which were fulled with tears and regrets.

"Well, it looks like this is your club and your apartment, so i should go somewhere else. I wish we never met eachother. I don't want to see you again, Roman Sionis, you broke my heart," you looked on him, like he was some stranger, that you don't know.

"No, wait, please, I am so sorry (y/n) I didn't wanted this.." he cried as he held his head, kneeling as he crawled to you. "Please don't leave me." he made those puppy eyes that you loved so much on him. But you couldn't stay. At least not now, you needed break.

"Sure," you said as you closed doors, leaving that damn club and leaving your husband.

Now, you were entering the circus tent, following the sound of voices, which were comming from upstairs. They were all there, pointing weapons at you, arguing whether they should kill you or not.

"Hello," said Harley, while pointing at you little pink revolver. You didn't had weapons, only knife that Victor gave you on birthday. You also had few guns in your new apartment, but all of them were from Roman, so you did not wanted to use them.

"Hello," you waved to them, looking at ground. They were all there, Harley Quinn, Black Canary, behind her hiding Cassandra Cain, Renee Montoya and the Crossbow killer.

"Should we kill her or what?" asked Harley.

"She is Sionis, of course we should Kill her," whispered Montoya.

"Sionis? Let me kill her then!" told the crossbow killer.

"So you are the famous Crossbow killer?" you asked surprised.

"No, i am the Huntress.. But yeah.. The crossbow killer..." she came closer to you, pointing the crossbow to your forhead.

"I am (Y/n) (Y/s) now," you said and looked around the place, spotting something familiar in background.

"Already? Was he cheating on you?" Black Canary rolled her eyes and smirked. You two were always arguing back then, when she sang in club, and it didn't changed. You were quiet, but quite of surprised when Harley jumped on you and hugged you.

"I am sooo sorry about that (Y/n)," she said and you hugged her back, burrying your face into her shoulder, so others couldn't see your tears. When Harley turned to others, your eyes drifted back on familiar object- green shirt.

"She is okay ladies, we can trust her," you heard what Harley said, and you were going closer to the laying thing on the floor.

"Victor!" you screamed and kneeled to him. He was dead. "No, Victor." you whispered and tears came from your eyes again, without control.

"He was something like her best friend to her," Black Canary said, turning to rest.

"Hey, I am sorry," Montoya came to you, catching your shoulder.

"I.. I just need a moment," you said, stopping the tears, slowly getting them under control, thinking how weak you looked.

"It looks like you won't get it.." whispered Huntress.

"I'm sorry?" you frowned turning to her. She was looking from the broken window out, together with Harley. You heard voice of your husband too. It was just a day and you missed him so much. He didn't knew about you, being here and you were stressing.

Yesterday you left him, fighting him with words, now you have to fight him with weapons?

"No, no, no.. Why is he here?!" you shouted.

"He wants the diamond," said Cassandra Cain.

"Of course, the fucking diamond.." you said and took the knife out of your pocket as Roman's goons started running to the tent.

"Ladies, we have to take the weapons and go," said Harley and opened the big box on the wall. Sadly, it was empty.

"What if we tried this one?" you asked as you opened a smaller box, which was laying on the ground, fulled with knifes and big hammer.

Seconds later, you were found in middle of the battlefield, knocking down soldiers of your husband.

"We have to go!" Harley shouted as you ran to the exit.

You saw Roman aiming with the gun on you. When he saw you, his hand with gun felt down, but then he aimed it once more, on Montoya this time.

And you know he was about to pull the trigger. You jumped in front of her, protecting her and then you felt unfamiliar pain. Your vision became blurred... and last thing you heard, was Roman screaming your name, then turning around, escaping in his Rolls-royce as you saw Harley going after him on skates.

[dontcallmecarrie]

Are you planing on ever making By Dawns Early Light into a full blown story? ... And is Thanos an issue in this AU? I think you havent mentioned him in it so well, I wondered?

UMM. *looks over what I’ve got in that tag, and winces*

geez this thing’s longer than some of my actual fics, when did that happen?

Here’s the thing, though: this AU’s meant to be a writer’s-block-buster. Which, if the current evidence is anything to go by, has been a resounding success. 

However. 

As of right now it’s just that, a thought-and-snippet-writing exercise, because there’s a lot of things that’d need tweaking before I’d even consider posting it on AO3 [aka my inner perfectionist strikes again]. 

Again, this is mostly just me messing around with a fluffy tumblr-exclusive [for now, anyway] AU because this feels smaller stakes than if I were to round this up and make it into a full-out fic.

Also, in regards to the second part of your ask: not exactly. By Dawn’s Early Light is, at its core, a fairly fluffy self-indulgent AU, which for me is also code for ‘nobody dies if I can help it’ and ‘if the MCU can have a Gary Stu villain then I can do what I want, Deus Ex Machina-levels of fixits included’.

How? Simple. By nerfing the heck out of him, while also unfridging as many other moms as I can, with a side of I-have-yet-to-forgive-the-writers-for-pulling-this-bs-seriously-what-kind-of-writing-was-that. 

Here’s how the entire Thanos situation would go down, in By Dawn’s Early Light (spoilers for a fic I have yet to write):

First, let’s take a step back, shall we? This is, among other things, a timeline-crunch AU. There’s a lot going down in a very compressed time frame [originally just because I wanted Howard to still be around just for Tony to be able to punch him, but now I’m invested in this so time go the full nine yards, buckle up everyone].

So. The entire situation around Maria Stark and Tony and Bucky’s been covered fairly well, but to sum up: when Howard turns out to be an abusive asshole of a husband, his wife smiles at him and promptly turns around and burns both SHIELD and Stark Industries, revealing HYDRA and Obadiah Stane’s double-dealing ahead of schedule [unintentional fixits ftw]. In the chaos, Bucky manages to escape and joins up with Maria and Tony as they go in hiding. 

Ripple effect that didn’t get mentioned: Hank Pym sees this shit going down, realizes that the most famous missing child in the country is about the same age as his daughter, and decides to not aim to be Absentee Father of the Year. He ends up being a tad overprotective, sure, but is way more involved in his kid’s life and Hope Van Dyne grows up with at least one (1) parental figure in her life, so…there’s that. 

Things happen, and the timeline for bringing Janet back gets moved up somehow, right around when the Avengers assemble.

Note to self: adjust part of Scott Lang’s origin story in this? Compare whistleblower laws of that time era, alt. entrance for him could be him somehow helping Tony hide because BDEL!Howard’s the type of petty and vindictive asshole who’d pull some strings if he found out this rando interfered with his search somehow. 

Bonus for giving Scott and Hank something to commiserate about, later on, and would also have Tony and Co. feeling indebted to him [which would result in a lot of shiny prototypes and records being expunged, later on, probably]

…though that might be a bit much. Hmm.

Reason to bring Janet back: I do what I want also I think the MCU fridged moms because otherwise they’d be too powerful 

Ripple effect that didn’t get mentioned, the second: since this is also the AU where moms get unfridged, Frigga’s going to be derailing the plot from her corner of the galaxy.

Also, since I finally watched Ragnarok but was a mythology nerd as a kid and have a passing knowledge of the comics, time to revamp how Hela fits into this universe.

Okay, she’s still murderous and powerful and ruthless. 

Only, turns out there’s a very good reason for it: she was one of Loki’s students [iirc she’s his daughter in the myths, that’s the best I can come up with atm] before Odin saddled her with the thankless duty of being the watchkeeper of Asgard’s enemies and prisoners. As in, Odin just straight-up went ‘hey you look pretty talented, here, I now hold you responsible for this entire goddamn realm of assholes and creeps, if any get out we’re all screwed’. 

Which is something Hela absolutely did not sign up for, but she’s now just about the only thing standing between said realm of undesirables and her home so she stays put […also maybe Odin sealed the only way back? Maybe? Idk].

It didn’t help that in the early days, these ruffians thought they could overpower her and escape to wreak havoc. So she had to kick everyone’s ass six ways to Sunday, until they finally accepted her as the head honcho of this dump and as someone Not To Be Fucked With.

Thus, why Hela’s known as the goddess of death and ruler of Helheim.  

…and it’s also why she accidentally came to Thanos’ attention.

(Because why the hell not, as if her day wasn’t bad enough Odin you owe her big time—)

Thanos, of course, is in love with her carnage and seems to be the kind of guy who doesn’t take no for an answer. Hela just wants to be left the alone but can’t tell him to fuck off because if she did, she’d risk leaving her home open to attack from enemy agents, which is how we get the story behind why Thanos is known as the madman who courted death. 

[Hela: fuck you and the horse you rode in on shoo you bastard and take your stupid flowers with you—]

Thanos was on one of his especially annoying ‘let me woo you with the ashes of this one civilization!’ kicks [Hela: ashes. How romantic. Not. Leave me alone already.] when some of the Dark Elves snuck out and killed Odin. 

Hela…is only pissed she couldn’t have done it with her own two hands. Also slightly embarrassed that the Dark Elves escaped in the first place, and relieved that it was only Odin who’d kicked it because his wife had seemed pretty nice, the one time Hela’d seen the lady before she’d been drop-kicked to this hellhole. 

Also— apparently she now can leave this place? Sayonara, bitches. 

.

Thanos is very displeased when he doesn’t find her standing guard over Helheim when he returns.

Displeased enough to get creative, as far as courting gifts go, and think that if she didn’t like rings or jewelry, well, maybe this Lady Death would appreciate a shiny, fully-assembled Infinity Gauntlet instead.

well…let’s be honest, if it weren’t for his ‘don’t take no for an answer’ thing, you’d have to give the guy props for trying. Nothing says ‘I love you’ more than ‘here have this item of absolute cosmic power’, amirite? [just kidding]

.

Hela now has mixed feelings about Asgard. Before she was crowned Queen of This Dump, she’d been a student of magic, had been used to certain things. There’s quite an element of culture shock to be had, now that she’s back. It’s the first time she’s seen sunlight in thousands of years, and also there’s a lot of systemic changes going on now that some of Odin’s dirty secrets are coming out at last. Turns out she’s not the only one who’d been pressed into duty: some of Loki’s other students[/children in the myths] came back with stories of the same. Fenrir was apparently voluntold to be the guardian of the Reality Stone, Jormungandr had apparently been busy on Midgard […which now had a school of Mystic Arts? Pfft. Overachiever], and the more Hela thought about it the angrier she got.

Especially when it turns out that her teacher had been mocked for suffering a breakdown and was also tortured by the creep who’d been flirting with her for millennia [Everyone: wait what Hela: I am going to KILL THAT BASTARD NEXT TIME I SEE HIM]. 

However, thanks to Frigga being Frigga and having a crazy-high charisma stat, Hela is still mostly willing to play ball with everyone else on Asgard. Despite her not being happy with how ungrateful the general populace acted [oh, magic’s just ‘tricks’? Here, have a fireball TO THE FACE I FOUGHT MONSTERS WITH THESE TRICKS FOR MILLENNIA]. 

So when Thanos shows up again, he gets one-shotted by Hela, who’s very very pissy about her vacation being interrupted.

Because this planet has sunlight and hot chocolate and punk rock and she’s got centuries’ worth of time off and she is damn well going to enjoy it.

.

…aka why Thanos is a bit of a non-entity in this one. Again, fixits are the name of the game for this AU.

[queen-peck-neck]

Sweetie, Lets Ride: Chapter 2: The Studio

Soo I finished chapter two today! :D

I hope you all enjoy!

Chap 1 / Chap 2 [You’re here] / ?

The fic is under read more!

Summary: Hat kid and Lady winter enter the studio. To see dj grooves and the conductor working hard on the film. Of course will the vampire lass get the role? 

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

The child and the vampire woman entered the studio. Immediately cool air from the ac hit them, the atmosphere was well it’s not really tense but everyone seemed to be quite busy. 

“Stay here!” hat kid said to lady winter as she walks over to the receptionist. Of course the vampire woman complied as she waited for hat kid to finish talking to the receptionist. The lass didn’t mind this gave her some time to look around. After all, it's been a while since the lass has actually been to the studio. Lady winter was quite busy at home taking care of the little ones and at work trying to tend the bar so she hasn’t really been able to stop by the studio. She glances up at the posters, impressed with how well made they are. Winter recognized a few of them such as “Murder on the Owl Express” and “Train Rush”. 

“He’s always works so hard on his movies, I wonder if he’s going to do the same for this collab film ...oh what am I saying of course he  will, he always does” lady winter thought to herself letting out a quiet little chuckle. She then looks over at the other side of the studio to which she assumes it’s dj groove’s side. The posters are also big and well made like the posters on her husband's side. She did recognize one of the films, “The Big Parade” is what the poster said. Like the other posters it has her little hat niece on there as well. The lady may not have seen the film herself but hat kid was telling her all about it and how much fun she was having. Talking about all the colorful confetti all around her, shiny disco balls, and the fun music. The only complaint the child told her was the whole fireworks ordeal and the fact the owl band would sometimes get in her way. 

Before the lass can form another thought she heard a loud bang throughout the studio. This made her jump and clutch her umbrella yet again then she turns her head in the direction of the noise.

“I TOLD YE, HE AIN’T A GOOD ACTORRR YE BAFOON!!” the owl shouted 

“You think I don't know that darling? Where can we find our lead actor at a time like this?! We don’t have a lot of options.” the flashy penguin sighed. 

The hatted child skips right over to the two directors, with a smile on her face she greeted them with a simple “Hiya!” 

This caught the directors attention. 

“Ah hello lassie” 

“Darling!! How are you? It’s been a while!” 

The child only giggled “I’m good! But I brought a friend with me today!” 

Conductor’s feathers on his head perked up while Dj Grooves raises an eyebrow. They were kinda curious on who this friend hat kid was talking about. It’s not often hat kid brings a friend along other then bow kid. 

“Who is this err friend of yours darling?” the penguin asked. Hat kids eyes only light up when she points at lady winter. The two directors looks and much to their surprise it’s the bartender of shady hallow. 

“OH!! LASSIE!!” conductor exclaimed with a smile on his face. Dj grooves was quite shocked seeing her around. He is aware conductor has a wife but he never saw her around himself, mostly because she avoids him but grooves didn’t know that. 

“Soo this is the wife you ramble about darling?” he asked the conductor. Of course the owl lad fluffs up and blushes lightly. 

“O-of course it is peck neck!!” he stammered, looking away. 

Oh dj grooves is so going to enjoy teasing the conductor about this. While the two were talking Lady winter walks over to them, standing next to the conductor’s side. 

“Well hello to you to!” she cooed. Then she waves at the others with a warm smile. 

Conductor looks up at her, “So uhhh what are ye doin’ here lassie? Did the hat lass drag ye along again?” he asks.

Lady winter only giggles a bit “Well I guess you can say that, Though it was willingly. I am quite curious about this new collab film you’re working on!” 

Of course the collab film, the directors almost forgot, Hat kid was looking at everyone. 

Dj grooves sighed, “Yes the collab film...We aren’t even sure if we are going to be able to do it if we don’t find ourselves an actor…” 

“Aye yes...We can’t seem tae find ourselves and actor for tae lead role, I mean we are tryin’ but all tae actors we got tae work with are so darn useless” conductor added.

Lady winter was of course concerned, but of course the movie making business was never the easiest thing around. It always has some sort of challenge to deal with. 

“I’m guessin’ you’re all struggling trying to find someone for the lead role huh..” lady winter said softly. The directors nod not really sure what to say. It looks like they seem to be a little embarrassed. They never really had an issue like this before and they might get desperate if this keeps up. Meanwhile hat kid was listening in on the conversation, thinking about what she can do to help her friends. The child didn’t like seeing her friends upset even though one of them did try to kill her for the time piece. But she forgives them, The time pieces can mess up one's morals. Anyway the time pieces isn’t the child's concern right now. But that’s when an idea hit her. Conductor notices the expression on her face. 

“Aye wot is it lass?” he asks.

Oh hat kid was so delighted that he asked “Why don’t you have Miss winter play a role in your film! She acted in your films before so why can’t she help in this film!?” she said with excitement in her voice.

Lady winter’s ears perk up, as her eyes widen a bit. She was shocked that the child suggested that, her?! Play a role in the collab film? It’s not that she minds but she’s so used to working in some of the conductor’s movies, she isn’t quite sure what dj grooves would be like. 

“Me?” she asked with confusion in her voice, she knew conductor wanted her to play a part in this film but she assumed it was a smaller part not the lead role. 

The directors looked at each other for a moment. Silence was in the room for a few moments until conductor broke the silence by saying “I think it’ll be a grreat idea! Me dear rose has played some roles in me movies before! I can’t see why she ca-” he couldn’t finish his thought before dj grooves cut him off

“Darling, It’s a great idea and all but how do we know she’ll actually do well? No offense darling but I haven’t worked with her before.” 

Lady winter understood why he would think that. “Well, I don’t blame you for feelin’ that way mr. grooves but, I’ll make sure I won’t be difficult to work with. Honest!” the lass added. 

Conductor was trying his best to hold his tongue, he didn’t want to explode in anger in front of his wife. How dare grooves assume that she wouldn’t do well?! But he soon calmed down seeing lady winter is talking in the calm voice she has. 

Dj grooves felt a little bad for assuming such a thing but can you blame him? He’s never worked with her, maybe he’ll give her a chance after all everyone deserves a chance, don't they?

“Oh darling I didn’t mean to make you think like that...But hmm before I’ll consider having you the lead role, perhaps can you read a line from a script we have? Think of this as a test.”

A test? Well reading from a script shouldn’t be to hard right?

Lady winter only nodded in response. 

“Aye don’t be testin’ her! Ye peck neck” conductor snapped 

The vampire lass places her hand on his shoulder, “Dear it’s alright I promise, it’s not that big of a deal” she spoke softly. This made conductor calm down a little bit, of course, he still didn’t like the idea of dj peck neck testing her. While this was all going down a moon penguin handed dj grooves the script for the movie. 

“Well here it is darling” the penguin said while handing the vampire the movie script. “Just read a line from there and we should be good.” he added. 

Lady winter understood, If it gets him to trust her even a little bit then so be it. The vampire’s eyes glanced at the script, she spots the title of the movie. “Sweetie, Let's Ride” it was called. Well it sounded interesting and made her curious on what the movie was about. But the lass is sure she will figure that out later.

While reading over the lines she clears her throat “In all the world you'll never find a love as true as mine!~" she said, her voice filled with emotion as if she were saying that to her own lover. 

Dj grooves was shocked over how well she said, “Darling, darling that was spectacular!!!” he said enthusiastically. Conductor seemed a little smug and prideful, after all his lover did just prove dj grooves that she is able to act. 

Hat kid clapped and giggled with glee, Lady winter felt good knowing she did well. She doesn’t often feel confident in herself so she was quite happy over everyone who seemed to enjoy her short performance. 

“Oh gosh thank you” lady winter said. “Well you’re perfect for the lead role darling! How about you come back next week to start working on the film, in the meantime you can read your lines and memorize them.” DJ grooves said to the vamp. She only nodded in acknowledgement. I mean it would make sense for her to practice those lines. The lass is going to need all the practice in the world. Hat kid wasn’t sure what to say, she was really happy for her auntie to get the part of the film. So she walks right over next to her. 

“Congrats on getting the part, i’m sure you’re going to do great!!” hat kid spoke cheerfully. Lady winter chuckled and smiled again gently patting the top of her hat.

Conductor realized something, he cleared his throat to get lady winter’s attention.

The vampire lass looks at him “yes dear?” 

“Sorry tae ruin tae moment lassie but err do ye know how to play the violin? It’s wot tae hero uses as a sorta weapon...it’s a musical western heh.” he said nervously 

Lady winter shook her head “No but uhh...I know someone who can teach me, perhaps I can have him help me while I practice my lines.” the lass responded.

Conductor’s face lit up and was relieved that she knew someone who can help her. “Oh that would be wonderful lassie!!”

“Uhh we should probably check on the owls and penguins darling...and inform them on the news” dj grooves looked at conductor. The old owl only nodded then he got up on his tiptoes just to smooch his wife on the cheek. 

“Aye lass sorry to cut this short but I must get goin’” 

Lady winter giggled then returned the smooch right onto his beak “no you’re fine dear, just take care of yourself for me alright?” he nodded with a smile on his face, the blush is back on his cheeks after she gave him a smooch. Dj grooves already started walking back to the other room and when conductor noticed he was leaving without him. He ran to catch up to the flashy penguin. 

“HEY WAIT UP WILL YE?!” he shouted. 

Hat kid only shook her head and headed over to the studio doors to leave, Lady winter following closely behind her.

“Sooo who is this person who is going to teach you the violin?” the child asked out of curiosity. 

“Hm? Oh none other than my dear twin seth.” the vamp responded.

The two left the studio, although the child isn’t too sure on who seth is seeing she only heard about him, she is excited to see this twin her auntie mentions from time to time. Hopefully he can help them out with the new film, they only have a few weeks to prepare while the studio sets up the scenes and make the props.

They can just hope right? It’s never an easy thing to learn an instrument in such a short amount of time.

[heathenrage]

Movie Review: Us

SPOILER ALERT - Look, if you haven't seen it, you fucking better. And, I suggest seeing it before reading my review.

Ok now, where to begin? So many layers. Let me first say that I don't pretend to fully "get" the movie, and certainly don't pretend i'll even touch the surface of what this movie meant or the expanse of themes incorporated, but here are my observations as concise as possible.

Obviously the cinematography was superb and calculating. From the offset, the development of the characters had to have hooked most of the audience as it did me.  A naive little girl with an alcoholic father who ignores her, and a permissive mother who allows them to be ignored set the scene for the child's innocence lost; cut to candy apple falling to the ground as she walks towards the Carnival forest to be lost in a hall of mirrors where she goes to find herself, and ... she does. From ominous storm clouds and lightning bolts rolling in as she gets ever closer to facing her evil opposite, to rain pouring down the moment she steps inside. Analogous to Eve biting the apple from the tree of knowledge and then going from paradise to pain.

The use of Michael Jackson shirt 'Thriller':

1. Michael always used dance as a metaphor for something else ( a lot of times fighting) in his videos.

2. Thriller the music video is about a girl being scared by zombies which is symbolic of the vices/ evil in others. Michael is trying to "thrill her more than any ghost would ever dare try" cut to groovy music with an awesome bass line where he proceeds to take her back to his house, as she imagines being trapped in his room only for him to jolt her to reality with his offer to take her "all the way home". We sigh with relief, he isn't a zombie! All is ok for the young lady's virtue, but as we sink into our complacency Michael turns back to the camera one last time with a hunger in his wolf eyes. Ow oooo, if you know what i'm sayin'.

3. In the case of the two opposite twins in the movie Us, who is the wolf? Which mother? Is this song about date rape? Is the little girl given the shirt as a foreshadowing of her impending date with her own wolf? Could the red jumpsuits mean little red riding hood is coming to kill the big bad wolf? Or is it a shout out to co-star's 'The hand maiden's tale'? (Also, a show/novel about the struggle between servitude, complacency, and pride.)

4. In ethnic cultures, through the trials and triumphs of time, dance has been a form of escapism, non verbal expression, a subversive act that can bring joy even in the darkest of times.

 Then there were rabbits and scissors:

1. The scissors for the untethering from servitude. She cuts the head off of the rabbit stuffed animal symbolize the untethering of herself as the evil twin's plaything.

2. As the 'Prevailer' decends down the stairs to the lab, a rabbit is seen escaping, as if saying that she was Alice falling back down to Wonderland where the Red Queen was waiting to chop off her head.

3. However, the "Unionizer" was herself like the rabbits, being tested on and kept locked up. This I feel was very analogous to how our society deems it acceptable to lock up animals to conduct research, and people to put them in jails.

4. There jumpsuits help us to see that they were the prisoners all across the country; living in smaller confined versions of the real world. People society has locked up and forgotten about, instead of placed in restorative justice centers to rehabilitate and integrate back into society.

5. The theme of Upper/Middle Class  vs . Working Poor/Imprisoned/Homeless

News reel "They came from the sewers."

"And I kept thinking, you could have taken me with you."

"... This is our summer home!" Hilarious line to splash in some comedic relief.

Which brings me to the use of comedy ... Tears rolling "nobody wants the boat dad" however, in the end the boat saved them time and again. "Thanks dad for buying the boat!" is something left unsaid but fully understood by the time the credits rolled. In the end having a family that could think for themselves, and make their own decisions helped the 'evil twin' to prevail. Though, I can honestly say that I didn't sleep that night, that movie had me laughing so many times. Luckily, I saw it late at night with a lot of people that were, like me, talking shit out loud to all the characters, and mooning over/chuckling at Winston Duke's spread eagle poses. This movie had the best of both worlds; thrills and chills.

              The use of the song "I got $5 on it":

1. Yes, the song is funny, well known, and well liked, but is there more here?

2. "The Prevailer" in the begining of the movie is in the car singing along with the entire family "I got five on it." Openly lying to her kids about the meaning of the song it is understood but accepted as joke; as if she was only saying that because that is what a good mom should say while she is really laughing at her children misbehaving."Mom I can see you laughing in the mirror."  A precedent of two faced nature is set as the family drives along to their second home.

            3. Let's go half on a sack lyrics could be a metaphor for the two clones going half on one body/soul. It could refer to the struggle of those going through addiction and having two sides of themselves trying to dominate the other as someone tries to get clean but relapses again.

In the end, after really reflecting on the movie, it makes me sad that our main character protagonist - antagonist or however you look at it - dies in the end. She is kidnapped and turned slave, only to rise up unionizing thousands of clones / guinea pigs, homeless, lab rats controlled by the government. These clone slaves had no rights all around America, and she with really only The Goonies, and  - i'm inferring here -  an approximately 3rd grade education brings them all together to seek freedom. The most beautiful revenge story, a little girl taken for granted by her biological family is abducted and forced to live imprisoned for 20+ years; yet though she probably had her wind pipe crushed by the evil twin, "the Prevailer", it acts as a catalyst for her to find her voice in a different way. Even more of a blow, a bitter irony is the original surface twin "the Unionizer" who is now imprisoned never gets the love that her family started pouring out from their guilt. After the abduction, she never gets to experience how her family started to invest in their daughter - except through dance. Dance to me is a ubiquitous expression of subversiveness, rebellion, revenge and passion; it is a tool of communication that evokes a plethora of emotions and intentions. It was used beautifully in this case.

But alas, revenge has its price and the price is the soul as seen in 'I Saw the Devil', "Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance", "Oldboy" and all your other favorite revenge films. I'd like to compare "the Unionizer" to a similar hero in another favorite revenge film of mine, Oldboy. Oh Dae-Su is a drunk, asshole shitty father and cheating husband who gets kidnapped and imprisoned for 15 years. During this time, confined to a single room by unknown captures, he teaches himself how to kick ass and prepare for the moment he can seek his form of justice. After being released randomly with no prior notice, he is hooked and entangled in figuring out who his capture is, and where he can find him. There were several points in time where he could have walked away, but his pride hammer on his intentions and resolve for revenge. And just like the "Unionizer" in the movie 'Us', Oh Dae-Su does end up getting his revenge in the end, but at a price. Spoiler alert: He literally cutting his pride/ his loose tongue that never stopped talking shit even after he was released (if you think about it) at the end to gain peace, "Unionizer" gaining her voice, losing her life, but succeeding arranging the greatest civil uprising at the cost of her own life finally had peace.

With a twist of fate, Alice goes to meet the Red Queen and the rest of the story is revealed. And just as in any great Michael Jackson music video, a war wages through the waltz that the evil opposites begin as a means to an end. However, not only does the battle resume with the characters on the screen, but also within our audience. Who should we really be rooting for? Should justice be served and what is the truth behind that justice; millions of peoples blood spilt, both guilty and innocent alike. For even when you don't commit the act of genocide, when you don't speak up and stop it, the blood is still on your hands. This movie really points out that we as people do not realize the hypocrisy within ourselves when turning a blind eye. We are all tethered together by the bonds of our humanity, and we cannot continue to ignore the white lies we tell ourselves about the inequalities in our society.

[princess-faelivrin]

It’s a very abridged list of characters, BUT I wanted to make a post about my interpretations of some of the CoH characters despite the fact that Nobody Asked. Apologies in advance for 100000 blocks of text and yelling. 

TÚRIN

Call it projecting, ‘cause I guess it is, but Túrin has always been half-Asian in my head, in terms of appearance. I don’t know if I do a good enough job of showing it in my art, but Morwen reminds me of my Taiwanese mom and Húrin of my white-passing dad, so my Túrin takes after his mom. He’s stated to have grey eyes, so grey eyes he will have, but I tend to draw them dark enough that they almost look black. Aside from that, he’s tallish with unruly also-almost-black hair and a tendency to wear dark colors, which... might also be projection except for the tall part. It is what it is. 

Anyway, personality-wise... I mean this with all the love in my heart, but Túrin’s a dumb emo. Actually I partially take that back-- he’s a smart emo, smart and charismatic enough to be a natural leader with a good head for battle, but a ridiculous emo nonetheless. 

As stated in the Childhood of Túrin, he was kind of a weird kid, too old for his age and slightly unsettling, with a quick temper and an ability to hold grudges, but he cared deeply for the feelings of those around him and had a strong protective instinct for his little sis Lalaith. He’s also shown to have a leaning towards pity throughout his life, for anyone hurt or sad or at a disadvantage, which is really sweet and kinda makes me want to cry. 

Later on, Túrin is clearly pretty impulsive and can be ruled by anger, like when he smacked Saeros in the nose with a cup (which is valid) and lashed out at Beleg when he tried to give him bread. He felt bad about that second one pretty quickly, but I think it’s mentioned a couple times throughout CoH that people are scared of Túrin because of how quickly his mood can go south. 

On the other hand, despite the fact that he keeps directly and indirectly killing them, Túrin actually does really love his friends. Obvs he loves Beleg, and he loved Sador and probably Nellas too, and during the Nargothrond chapter he tries his best to look after Gwindor and Finduilas and try to figure out what’s making both of them so damned sad all the time. He fails, of course, because he’s too oblivious to notice the romantic tension so thick you’d have to use Gurthang to cut it, but he tries and that’s what counts. 

BELEG

I think it might just be because of fanart, but Beleg as I see him has silver hair. Between Beleg and Mablung, the consensus seems to be that one of them has dark hair and the other silver, so my Beleg is the silver one. I have actually no idea what color his eyes are, though. Hazel? Who knows. He’s taller than Túrin, that’s for sure, with long legs and broad shoulders. I like drawing him with a little white flower pin on his clothes. 

He seems to be a pretty cheerful dude, probably the most cheerful in all of CoH, which is good for him, I guess. He laughs when the outlaws see him and go “oh shit, who is that?” and lets them be in suspense for a second or two before going “haha, sike, it’s me! Beleg! I have food for y’all starving dudes.” Thus, he’s a good foil/companion to Túrin’s depressing nature and his death removes a lot of the scant happiness in Túrin’s life. 

Something I love about Beleg is that he’s very forgiving and just like... a ridiculously nice person for the situation. Beleg doesn’t hold anything against Túrin, doesn’t hold anything against Andróg either (which is pretty impressive,) and immediately decides to give Gwindor lembas and take him along for the ride after finding him under a tree in the forest. 

The big important thing to Beleg’s personality, imo, is that he’s very loyal (to Túrin specifically.) Despite being told it’s a dangerous idea, he goes and looks for Túrin in the wilderness, and even Thingol is well aware he won’t be stopped. It also outright says that where Túrin is concerned, Beleg “yield[s] to his love against his wisdom” to be with him. He’s straight up referred to as the most steadfast of friends, which is really sad because it’s like a sentence after he dies, but there it is-- Beleg is a good friend and a loyal one. 

TÚRIN’S FAMILY

I already mentioned the fact that Túrin’s family reminds me a lot of mine, which definitely influences my perception of them, but anyway: 

Morwen is a fairly angular lady, who has dark dark hair pulled into a chopstick bun behind her head and a pair of raven-feather earrings that gleam in low light. She’s the parent that Túrin got his unsettling edgy aura from, and her Displeased Face is enough to scare any intruder out of her house. She loves her kids and her husband, but she’s stern so sometimes it’s hard to tell. 

Húrin is the neighborhood guy who knows everyone and who everyone knows in return. He’s kind of a square-looking blond guy, like Van Hohenheim from Fullmetal Alchemist except happier and more of a jock. He apparently can play the harp, which is cool, and he probably has lots of stories from being out and about with the elf-host. He loves his kids and his wife and likes to joke around sometimes with Túrin because he’s so straightforward and less inclined to humor. 

Niënor outstripped her parents and her brother in height, and ended up the tallest of the family. She has her dad’s blonde hair, and is slightly more square shaped than her mom or her brother. She’s also half-Asian, but you have to squint. She doesn’t fight like her brother, and is acutely aware of the Túrin-shaped hole in her mother’s life and heart and the matching shadow cast over her own life. However unlike Túrin she is in some ways, she has the same occasional fiery stubbornness and penchant for anguished theatrics, albeit on a smaller scale. 

Lalaith... poor kid. She was charming and cute but didn’t last long. 

MABLUNG

My Mablung has wavy-ish dark hair in a similar style to Beleg’s, and has a slightly less willowy build, for lack of a better way to compare them. He’s got dark eyebrows to better express how utterly unimpressed he is with whatever dumb shit is going down in Doriath, and probably a few not-too-flashy piercings. He’s very dignified in posture and appearance, but not like... pretentious, because he fights people in the woods on a regular basis. 

Out of Túrin’s friends, Mablung is probably the most akin to the Responsible One, with Gwindor at a close second. He’s less willing than Beleg to drop everything for a friend, and requires more evidence to support it, but he’ll still do it after thinking it over and will probably beat himself up about not having gone for it sooner. 

On that point, poor guy takes too much onto his own shoulders and ends up feeling shitty and miserable when he fails at something that he could not have possibly succeeded at. This is demonstrated in terrible, heartwrenching fashion throughout the story, when Mablung asks Thingol to fire him because he lost Morwen and Niënor, to which Thingol says “what no, you’re too good, we need you” and Melian says “don’t feel too bad about it, ok?” (he ignores the last part and continues to feel bad enough about it that he looks for Niënor for Literal Years.) Also on that topic is the scene in which Mablung sees Túrin dead and stands there like some sort of Beleriand Benvolio, realizing that all his friends are dead and that “thus with words have I slain one that I loved.” 

NELLAS

I almost forgot her, can you imagine? You probably can, because she’s a minor character who disappeared like a third of the way through the story, but let’s not talk about that. She’s a forest girl, so I imagine she likes to wear a lot of nice leaves on her head, and/or make a bunch of flower crowns and then drop them in fright if anyone happens to find her in the process. She has dark brown hair and big, curious eyes, and is short and slight even by human standards. 

Nellas has... hardcore dirt lesbian energy. It’s implied that she had a crush on Túrin, but honestly, I doubt that very much. In my head, she and Túrin were just really close pals, and she taught him about how to live in the woods and how to rescue worms from the rain. Her moment of glory, basically, is going into the city once and immediately proceeding to freeze up from anxiety in front of the king. Is that a mood? Yeah and I love her. I hope she’s okay.  

ANDRÓG

I realize he’s another minor character, but he is a very compelling one to me specifically, so. As I imagine him, he’s a fairly lean young dude with a hungry-wolf look about him, which is sort of a mixture of desperation, suspicion, and plain snappishness. He has dark eyes and hair a little darker than what could be called ‘mousy brown,’ tied back in a short ponytail. He also has a frequent scowl and generally is a little bit scary, although he isn’t exactly physically imposing in the ‘tall and buff’ sense. 

There really is no other way to describe Andróg’s personality than ‘he’s a particularly mean tsundere.’ He’s just... full of rage and repressed Feelings for Túrin and possibly also Beleg. Unfortunately, these feelings manifest in Being A Bitch And Generally Not Nice. It takes him so long to admit he can’t actually hate Beleg that he literally just up and dies after doing one (1) nice thing. Why do I like him? It’s anyone’s guess tbh. 

GWINDOR

Ah... yes...... the character who nobody talks about but who I love with my whole heart and soul. To start off with appearance, the only canon things about what he looks like is that he has dark hair and looks older than he would otherwise because torture. Immediately post-imprisonment and during it, I imagine his hair is short, but beforehand and a while after, it gets back to being long. He has a bunch of scars from all that too, and generally has the bearing and amount of grey hairs as a substitute teacher who nobody listens to. I draw him with grey eyes usually, but saw @bisexualturin‘s hc of him having had violet eyes before and I’m kinda in love thanks. 

In terms of who he is as a person, we don’t know much of what he was like before the Nirnaeth, but as I see him, he’s always had a fiery streak and a slightly acerbic sense of humor. Being tormented for 14 years forced him to mellow out some, by which I mean a) how the hell are you supposed to keep your sense of humor after that and b) as shown in his arguments with Túrin over tactics, he’s now extremely wary of head-on battle. 

He’s fundamentally someone who wants the best for the people around him, and who loves both Finduilas and Túrin very much despite feeling hurt and miserable over the fact that his opinion is now worth nothing to those in charge and the sense that he’s not good enough for anyone (much less his two best friends) in his current state. Overall, his dying speech is emblematic of the very Oof Ouch and Complicated feelings he ended up having toward Túrin, namely “you’re a dumbass and probably should have listened to me, but I love you and I am going to try my damndest to give both you and Finduilas as much of a chance at life as I can, even here as I bleed out in your arms.” 

Which brings us to... 

FINDUILAS

Finduilas is sweet like honey chamomile tea and her whole being radiates soft sunlight. In my mind, she’s somewhat round-faced, with really fluffy golden hair, sparkly freckles on tan skin, and a liking for wearing light blue clothes that match her eyes. She smiles a lot and possibly gives off actual light??? Also my heart is full of affection for chubby Finduilas. General consensus is Soft. 

Canon-wise, whether she’s more introverted or extroverted is kind of up to interpretation, as all we’re really given is that she worries about Túrin when he’s out fighting and “wishe[s] not to add one tear to [Gwindor’s] suffering.” I tend to think of her as sunny and gregarious, with way more game than her dad, and with endless reserves of empathy, sympathy, and compassion for the people she loves. 

As a Finwean princess, she absolutely has the capacity for badassery, which makes me very into the idea of Túrin rescuing her post-Nargothrond as per Gwindor’s request and the two of them going on a road trip of doom. But unfortunately, we don’t get to see another side of her in the book. 

I usually just put the book down and cry after the sack of Nargothrond, so I’ll just do one more character: 

ORODRETH

Ok, so Finduilas has to have gotten her Vanyarin hair from her dad, clearly. But since Elves can probably change their appearances based on willpower to some degree, Orodreth’s hair is nowhere near as fluffy, and is a darker honey-blonde than Finduilas’ gold. He’s one of the plainest-looking Finweans by virtue of the fact that he perpetually has this look on his face that makes him seem like he wants to melt into the floor and go back to Aman. Which he kinda does. 

Unfortunately, Orodreth didn’t do much in the story except be a doormat to like five different people and then die, but I still like him for whatever reason. Way early on, before Húrin or his kids were a thing, Orodreth was still himself, aka someone who asked nicely for people to not make bad decisions, and predictably didn’t get listened to. Sure, some of Fëanor’s terrible boys took over his hidden elf city, but what was he going to do? Fight them? No. He’d rather just Not. 

...I feel bad for him. He literally did not ask for Any Of That. 

that’s all y’all, I am so sorry for making you read the entirety of the inside of my head as it has been for the past four months 

[mugsywrites]

Love your idea about Denise doing psych assessments of new recruits. And I’m so excited to hear that the homesteading au is going well. Do you think you’ll be posting anything soon? For it or Ripples?

Like many things on TWD, it’s such a wasted opportunity for some character development. I mean, they did a little of it with Deanna’s interviews of them all but it would have been interesting for a shrink to question them.

As for Homesteading AU: Maybe? Let me just explain my writing process: 1)I do a basic outline, 2)start writing somewhere in the middle, work my way toward the end and 3) go back and figure out how things got there/fill in the gaps. But doing that means I usually rewrite huge swaths of the ending.

For example: the skeletal outline of “Fables” was “Daryl is injured and stays at Hilltop after the war, while there he falls in love with Jesus, they sleep together, Daryl has a gay panic moment and runs away to the ASZ, Jesus goes after him and something happens which makes Daryl and the group have to look for him, they have an angry confrontation and admit their feelings for each other” . From that the earliest scenes I wrote were the night they slept together for the first time and Daryl left, also scene where Paul confronts Daryl about it and the final scene where Daryl tells him he loves him back. The only thing that remains of those last two scenes are some of the dialog since once I started working toward that the plot changed significantly: Originally the Whisperers were going to be the baddies, and Daryl was going to get bitten and wouldn’t find out until the last chapter that it wasn’t from a zombie and he was going to live. The Whisperers were abandoned because I realized it would take too much time and attention to set them up as baddies, especially when I worked out the best way of telling the story was alternating chapters of “Now” and “Then”. I wanted the “Now” chapters to be shorter and take place over a day or two in contrast to the months covered in the “Then” chapters and that just wasn’t enough for the Whisperers. I changed it to Paul getting injured because the story began with them not sure if Daryl would live and ends with them not sure Paul will, which was a nice little bookend instead of just repetitive.

So that long ramble is just to explain that I’m sort of on step 2 right now, but since it’s an AU of my AU and I’m jumping around a bit I have most of the first couple of chapters roughed out, but I’ve been mostly working on some middle-to-end bits. As small reward for anyone’s patience in reading that ramble, here’s an out-of-context, likely to be deleted/altered significantly, and unedited bit of a scene I’ve been working on (apologies that it’s more TF focused than Desus focused:

“I don’t know where my husband is,” Michonne says quietly, “We were separated a few days ago, and when we went looking…he wasn’t where he said he’d be.”

“What happened?” Paul asks. He wishes Daryl were already home, if Michonne and Carl’s people are out here on the mountain then Daryl would find them. But he’ll be out on his hunt for another two days at least.

“Group of us are on our way to Washington,” she says. She glances to the living room behind her, where Carl has fallen asleep. “It’s a long story.”

“Well. I’ve got time. But you should probably sleep. So should I.”

She gives a weak smile, “I can’t sleep.”

“Not alone?” Paul says with sympathy.

“I can sleep alone,” she answers, “I just can’t sleep when I’m the one doing the waiting.”

Paul nods; he understands this too well. When he’s the one out on a supply run with Daryl and Clementine holding down the fort here at 19 Chicopee Paul sleeps wherever he can find shelter and is out as soon as he lays down. When Daryl’s the one out on one of his hunts even in a warm and comfortable bed in their almost-safe home then Paul is wide awake. “How long have you been married?” Paul asks.

Michonne pauses, “I-we didn’t really have a ceremony, you know? He wasn’t my husband from before.”

Paul has already guessed this; Carl obviously isn’t her biological child anymore than Clem is his.“How’d you meet?”

Michonne’s face changes, goes blank. “It was…maybe a year ago. I was alone,” Michonne says, “for a long time. Lost everything, everyone. It was just me and…” she swallows and looks away, and Paul doesn’t press. He can guess the gist of it, and he thinks if Daryl were gone he would probably cut himself off from everyone as well. “I wasn’t crazy…I was just…gone,” Michonne continues, “One day I found a woman in the woods. Carol. Surrounded by walkers. And for some reason I decided to stop and help. Saved her life. Then it was the two of us.” A faint smile, “Carol…she was pretty much gone too. But we helped each other find our way back. At least part of the way. It was the first winter after everything happened. In the spring…that’s when we found Woodbury.” Her voice grows dark. “It was a big group, an entire town. Was run by this guy who calls himself the Governor. Pretty boy, charming,” she grimaces, “in a Jim Jones type of way.”

Paul knows exactly the type of guy she’s talking about. He nods for her to continue.

“Or more like they found us. Carol’d gotten sick, and the Governor and his men found us. Brought us to Woodbury. We both knew something wasn’t right from the start. Sentries on every wall. Paramilitary wannabes. I wanted to get out of there right away, but Carol was still too sick. By the time she got better she told me we should stay put for a bit. Watch these people,” she snorts. Paul can read her face well enough to know that whatever relationship she had with this woman, it was complicated. Michonne shakes her head, “Carol’s…you’d never notice Carol, not before. Susie Homemaker. Soccer mom. Looks like she’d jump six feet if a mouse farted. No one notices a woman like that now either. She could bake you cookies with a smile then slit your throat without changing her expression. Within a day or two she’s part of a ladies’ social and making dinner for old folks and everybody’s talking to her.” She shrugs, lost in the memory, “Not like me. Carol said I was about as subtle as knife to the crotch.”

Paul can believe it. The woman at his dinner table is soft-spoken, genteel, and nothing like the ferocious mama bear defending her cub he’d met in the woods earlier that day. Even so, “subtle” is the last thing she is. She’s the sort of woman who walks in a room and draws attention without effort. “What’d the two of you find out?”

“That this Governor was a fucking psychopath,” Michonne replies, eyes dark. “Him and his goons raided other settlements for supplies. I think the only reason he didn’t kill the two of us right away was because we had nothing he wanted to take. At Woodbury he had a makeshift arena with weekly ‘gladiator matches’ where you fought in a pit with walkers chained to either side. Had a room full of fishtanks with decapitated walker heads. Kept his dead daughter—Penny—in chains in his house. Thought she could be cured.”

Paul can feel the blood draining from his face, “Holy fuck,” he whispers softly. “And people at Woodbury…they just went along with it?”

She shrugs, “Most people there didn’t want to know. He was keeping them safe, and fed, and together. His soldiers knew, but they didn’t care either. Some of them liked it, like his number two. Merle,” she spits the name out.

Paul’s stomach plummets, and he must look like he’s seen a ghost because Michonne asks him what’s wrong. “Nothing,” he starts to say, but she looks like the sort of woman who can see through lies, so he admits, “My brother-in-law was called Merle. Merle Dixon. And he was a son-of-a-bitch. Ran around with white supremacist militias and dealt meth. Reacted how you’d expect when he found out his little brother was gay.”

Her face goes still, “I never found out his last name, but that sounds like our Merle. Fifties, beefy, blue eyes, gotta mouth on him.”

Paul’s heart races, “He was in jail when everything happened, I’m sure there are a lot of redneck assholes in the state of Georgia called Merle.”

“Well, the world gets smaller at the end. Something Merle said himself. See, he knew Carol. They were in the same group at the beginning, before they kicked him out. The rest of Carol’s group…she thought the world of them. One of them died saving her life, right before I found her. Carl’s mother.” She gives a small smile at Paul’s look of confusion, “Me and Carol were getting ready to escape  when the Governor brought in a new group, one Carol recognized.”

“The one she was with before, with Merle,” Paul says, amazed.

Michonne nods, “World keeps getting smaller. So maybe it is your brother-in-law out there in the woods after us. The night I found her, Carol’s group was overrun by a herd and she got separated. Must’ve thought she died with Lori. They were glad to see her, even…” She trails off, eyes seeing something else, “That’s when I met Rick.” Her voice is unsteady when she says her husband’s name.

[mallyvu]

Harvey Weinstein Is My Monster Too

By Salma Hayek

Dec. 12, 2017

Harvey Weinstein was a passionate cinephile, a risk taker, a patron of talent in film, a loving father and a monster. For years, he was my monster.

This fall, I was approached by reporters, through different sources, including my dear friend Ashley Judd, to speak about an episode in my life that, although painful, I thought I had made peace with.

I had brainwashed myself into thinking that it was over and that I had survived; I hid from the responsibility to speak out with the excuse that enough people were already involved in shining a light on my monster. I didn’t consider my voice important, nor did I think it would make a difference.

In reality, I was trying to save myself the challenge of explaining several things to my loved ones: Why, when I had casually mentioned that I had been bullied like many others by Harvey, I had excluded a couple of details. And why, for so many years, we have been cordial to a man who hurt me so deeply. I had been proud of my capacity for forgiveness, but the mere fact that I was ashamed to describe the details of what I had forgiven made me wonder if that chapter of my life had really been resolved.

When so many women came forward to describe what Harvey had done to them, I had to confront my cowardice and humbly accept that my story, as important as it was to me, was nothing but a drop in an ocean of sorrow and confusion. I felt that by now nobody would care about my pain — maybe this was an effect of the many times I was told, especially by Harvey, that I was nobody.

We are finally becoming conscious of a vice that has been socially accepted and has insulted and humiliated millions of girls like me, for in every woman there is a girl. I am inspired by those who had the courage to speak out, especially in a society that elected a president who has been accused of sexual harassment and assault by more than a dozen women and whom we have all heard make a statement about how a man in power can do anything he wants to women.

Well, not anymore.

In the 14 years that I stumbled from schoolgirl to Mexican soap star to an extra in a few American films to catching a couple of lucky breaks in “Desperado” and “Fools Rush In,” Harvey Weinstein had become the wizard of a new wave of cinema that took original content into the mainstream. At the same time, it was unimaginable for a Mexican actress to aspire to a place in Hollywood. And even though I had proven them wrong, I was still a nobody.

One of the forces that gave me the determination to pursue my career was the story of Frida Kahlo, who in the golden age of the Mexican muralists would do small intimate paintings that everybody looked down on. She had the courage to express herself while disregarding skepticism. My greatest ambition was to tell her story. It became my mission to portray the life of this extraordinary artist and to show my native Mexico in a way that combated stereotypes.

The Weinstein empire, which was then Miramax, had become synonymous with quality, sophistication and risk taking — a haven for artists who were complex and defiant. It was everything that Frida was to me and everything I aspired to be.

I had started a journey to produce the film with a different company, but I fought to get it back to take it to Harvey.

I knew him a little bit through my relationship with the director Robert Rodriguez and the producer Elizabeth Avellan, who was then his wife, with whom I had done several films and who had taken me under their wing. All I knew of Harvey at the time was that he had a remarkable intellect, he was a loyal friend and a family man.

Knowing what I know now, I wonder if it wasn’t my friendship with them — and Quentin Tarantino and George Clooney — that saved me from being raped.

The deal we made initially was that Harvey would pay for the rights of work I had already developed. As an actress, I would be paid the minimum Screen Actors Guild scale plus 10 percent. As a producer, I would receive a credit that would not yet be defined, but no payment, which was not that rare for a female producer in the ’90s. He also demanded a signed deal for me to do several other films with Miramax, which I thought would cement my status as a leading lady.

I did not care about the money; I was so excited to work with him and that company. In my naïveté, I thought my dream had come true. He had validated the last 14 years of my life. He had taken a chance on me — a nobody. He had said yes.

Little did I know it would become my turn to say no.

No to opening the door to him at all hours of the night, hotel after hotel, location after location, where he would show up unexpectedly, including one location where I was doing a movie he wasn’t even involved with.

No to me taking a shower with him.

No to letting him watch me take a shower.

No to letting him give me a massage.

No to letting a naked friend of his give me a massage.

No to letting him give me oral sex.

No to my getting naked with another woman.

No, no, no, no, no …

And with every refusal came Harvey’s Machiavellian rage.

I don’t think he hated anything more than the word “no.” The absurdity of his demands went from getting a furious call in the middle of the night asking me to fire my agent for a fight he was having with him about a different movie with a different client to physically dragging me out of the opening gala of the Venice Film Festival, which was in honor of “Frida,” so I could hang out at his private party with him and some women I thought were models but I was told later were high-priced prostitutes.

The range of his persuasion tactics went from sweet-talking me to that one time when, in an attack of fury, he said the terrifying words, “I will kill you, don’t think I can’t.”

When he was finally convinced that I was not going to earn the movie the way he had expected, he told me he had offered my role and my script with my years of research to another actress.

In his eyes, I was not an artist. I wasn’t even a person. I was a thing: not a nobody, but a body.

At that point, I had to resort to using lawyers, not by pursuing a sexual harassment case, but by claiming “bad faith,” as I had worked so hard on a movie that he was not intending to make or sell back to me. I tried to get it out of his company.

He claimed that my name as an actress was not big enough and that I was incompetent as a producer, but to clear himself legally, as I understood it, he gave me a list of impossible tasks with a tight deadline:

1. Get a rewrite of the script, with no additional payment.

2. Raise $10 million to finance the film.

3. Attach an A-list director.

4. Cast four of the smaller roles with prominent actors.

Much to everyone’s amazement, not least my own, I delivered, thanks to a phalanx of angels who came to my rescue, including Edward Norton, who beautifully rewrote the script several times and appallingly never got credit, and my friend Margaret Perenchio, a first-time producer, who put up the money. The brilliant Julie Taymor agreed to direct, and from then on she became my rock. For the other roles, I recruited my friends Antonio Banderas, Edward Norton and my dear Ashley Judd. To this day, I don’t know how I convinced Geoffrey Rush, whom I barely knew at the time.

Now Harvey Weinstein was not only rejected but also about to do a movie he did not want to do.

Ironically, once we started filming, the sexual harassment stopped but the rage escalated. We paid the price for standing up to him nearly every day of shooting. Once, in an interview he said Julie and I were the biggest ball busters he had ever encountered, which we took as a compliment.

Halfway through shooting, Harvey turned up on set and complained about Frida’s “unibrow.” He insisted that I eliminate the limp and berated my performance. Then he asked everyone in the room to step out except for me. He told me that the only thing I had going for me was my sex appeal and that there was none of that in this movie. So he told me he was going to shut down the film because no one would want to see me in that role.

It was soul crushing because, I confess, lost in the fog of a sort of Stockholm syndrome, I wanted him to see me as an artist: not only as a capable actress but also as somebody who could identify a compelling story and had the vision to tell it in an original way.

I was hoping he would acknowledge me as a producer, who on top of delivering his list of demands shepherded the script and obtained the permits to use the paintings. I had negotiated with the Mexican government, and with whomever I had to, to get locations that had never been given to anyone in the past — including Frida Kahlo’s houses and the murals of Kahlo’s husband, Diego Rivera, among others.

But all of this seemed to have no value. The only thing he noticed was that I was not sexy in the movie. He made me doubt if I was any good as an actress, but he never succeeded in making me think that the film was not worth making.

He offered me one option to continue. He would let me finish the film if I agreed to do a sex scene with another woman. And he demanded full-frontal nudity.

He had been constantly asking for more skin, for more sex. Once before, Julie Taymor got him to settle for a tango ending in a kiss instead of the lovemaking scene he wanted us to shoot between the character Tina Modotti, played by Ashley Judd, and Frida.

But this time, it was clear to me he would never let me finish this movie without him having his fantasy one way or another. There was no room for negotiation.

I had to say yes. By now so many years of my life had gone into this film. We were about five weeks into shooting, and I had convinced so many talented people to participate. How could I let their magnificent work go to waste?

I had asked for so many favors, I felt an immense pressure to deliver and a deep sense of gratitude for all those who did believe in me and followed me into this madness. So I agreed to do the senseless scene.

I arrived on the set the day we were to shoot the scene that I believed would save the movie. And for the first and last time in my career, I had a nervous breakdown: My body began to shake uncontrollably, my breath was short and I began to cry and cry, unable to stop, as if I were throwing up tears.

Since those around me had no knowledge of my history of Harvey, they were very surprised by my struggle that morning. It was not because I would be naked with another woman. It was because I would be naked with her for Harvey Weinstein. But I could not tell them then.

My mind understood that I had to do it, but my body wouldn’t stop crying and convulsing. At that point, I started throwing up while a set frozen still waited to shoot. I had to take a tranquilizer, which eventually stopped the crying but made the vomiting worse. As you can imagine, this was not sexy, but it was the only way I could get through the scene.

By the time the filming of the movie was over, I was so emotionally distraught that I had to distance myself during the postproduction.

When Harvey saw the cut film, he said it was not good enough for a theatrical release and that he would send it straight to video.

This time Julie had to fight him without me and got him to agree to release the film in one movie theater in New York if we tested it to an audience and we scored at least an 80.

Less than 10 percent of films achieve that score on a first screening.

I didn’t go to the test. I anxiously awaited to receive the news. The film scored 85.

... Read the rest at https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2017/12/13/opinion/contributors/salma-hayek-harvey-weinstein.html

[buddaimond]

Harvey Weinstein was a passionate cinephile, a risk taker, a patron of talent in film, a loving father and a monster.

For years, he was my monster.

This fall, I was approached by reporters, through different sources, including my dear friend Ashley Judd, to speak about an episode in my life that, although painful, I thought I had made peace with.

I had brainwashed myself into thinking that it was over and that I had survived; I hid from the responsibility to speak out with the excuse that enough people were already involved in shining a light on my monster. I didn’t consider my voice important, nor did I think it would make a difference.

In reality, I was trying to save myself the challenge of explaining several things to my loved ones: Why, when I had casually mentioned that I had been bullied like many others by Harvey, I had excluded a couple of details. And why, for so many years, we have been cordial to a man who hurt me so deeply. I had been proud of my capacity for forgiveness, but the mere fact that I was ashamed to describe the details of what I had forgiven made me wonder if that chapter of my life had really been resolved.

When so many women came forward to describe what Harvey had done to them, I had to confront my cowardice and humbly accept that my story, as important as it was to me, was nothing but a drop in an ocean of sorrow and confusion. I felt that by now nobody would care about my pain — maybe this was an effect of the many times I was told, especially by Harvey, that I was nobody.

We are finally becoming conscious of a vice that has been socially accepted and has insulted and humiliated millions of girls like me, for in every woman there is a girl. I am inspired by those who had the courage to speak out, especially in a society that elected a president who has been accused of sexual harassment and assault by more than a dozen women and whom we have all heard make a statement about how a man in power can do anything he wants to women.

Well, not anymore.

In the 14 years that I stumbled from schoolgirl to Mexican soap star to an extra in a few American films to catching a couple of lucky breaks in “Desperado” and “Fools Rush In,” Harvey Weinstein had become the wizard of a new wave of cinema that took original content into the mainstream. At the same time, it was unimaginable for a Mexican actress to aspire to a place in Hollywood. And even though I had proven them wrong, I was still a nobody.

One of the forces that gave me the determination to pursue my career was the story of Frida Kahlo, who in the golden age of the Mexican muralists would do small intimate paintings that everybody looked down on. She had the courage to express herself while disregarding skepticism. My greatest ambition was to tell her story. It became my mission to portray the life of this extraordinary artist and to show my native Mexico in a way that combated stereotypes.

The Weinstein empire, which was then Miramax, had become synonymous with quality, sophistication and risk taking — a haven for artists who were complex and defiant. It was everything that Frida was to me and everything I aspired to be.

I had started a journey to produce the film with a different company, but I fought to get it back to take it to Harvey.

I knew him a little bit through my relationship with the director Robert Rodriguez and the producer Elizabeth Avellan, who was then his wife, with whom I had done several films and who had taken me under their wing. All I knew of Harvey at the time was that he had a remarkable intellect, he was a loyal friend and a family man.

Knowing what I know now, I wonder if it wasn’t my friendship with them — and Quentin Tarantino and George Clooney — that saved me from being raped.

The deal we made initially was that Harvey would pay for the rights of work I had already developed. As an actress, I would be paid the minimum Screen Actors Guild scale plus 10 percent. As a producer, I would receive a credit that would not yet be defined, but no payment, which was not that rare for a female producer in the ’90s. He also demanded a signed deal for me to do several other films with Miramax, which I thought would cement my status as a leading lady.

I did not care about the money; I was so excited to work with him and that company. In my naïveté, I thought my dream had come true. He had validated the last 14 years of my life. He had taken a chance on me — a nobody. He had said yes.

Little did I know it would become my turn to say no.

No to opening the door to him at all hours of the night, hotel after hotel, location after location, where he would show up unexpectedly, including one location where I was doing a movie he wasn’t even involved with.

No to me taking a shower with him.

No to letting him watch me take a shower.

No to letting him give me a massage.

No to letting a naked friend of his give me a massage.

No to letting him give me oral sex.

No to my getting naked with another woman.

No, no, no, no, no …

And with every refusal came Harvey’s Machiavellian rage.

I don’t think he hated anything more than the word “no.” The absurdity of his demands went from getting a furious call in the middle of the night asking me to fire my agent for a fight he was having with him about a different movie with a different client to physically dragging me out of the opening gala of the Venice Film Festival, which was in honor of “Frida,” so I could hang out at his private party with him and some women I thought were models but I was told later were high-priced prostitutes.

The range of his persuasion tactics went from sweet-talking me to that one time when, in an attack of fury, he said the terrifying words, “I will kill you, don’t think I can’t.”

When he was finally convinced that I was not going to earn the movie the way he had expected, he told me he had offered my role and my script with my years of research to another actress.

In his eyes, I was not an artist. I wasn’t even a person. I was a thing: not a nobody, but a body.

At that point, I had to resort to using lawyers, not by pursuing a sexual harassment case, but by claiming “bad faith,” as I had worked so hard on a movie that he was not intending to make or sell back to me. I tried to get it out of his company.

He claimed that my name as an actress was not big enough and that I was incompetent as a producer, but to clear himself legally, as I understood it, he gave me a list of impossible tasks with a tight deadline:

1. Get a rewrite of the script, with no additional payment.

2. Raise $10 million to finance the film.

3. Attach an A-list director.

4. Cast four of the smaller roles with prominent actors.

Much to everyone’s amazement, not least my own, I delivered, thanks to a phalanx of angels who came to my rescue, including Edward Norton, who beautifully rewrote the script several times and appallingly never got credit, and my friend Margaret Perenchio, a first-time producer, who put up the money. The brilliant Julie Taymor agreed to direct, and from then on she became my rock. For the other roles, I recruited my friends Antonio Banderas, Edward Norton and my dear Ashley Judd. To this day, I don’t know how I convinced Geoffrey Rush, whom I barely knew at the time.

Now Harvey Weinstein was not only rejected but also about to do a movie he did not want to do.

Ironically, once we started filming, the sexual harassment stopped but the rage escalated. We paid the price for standing up to him nearly every day of shooting. Once, in an interview he said Julie and I were the biggest ball busters he had ever encountered, which we took as a compliment.

Halfway through shooting, Harvey turned up on set and complained about Frida’s “unibrow.” He insisted that I eliminate the limp and berated my performance. Then he asked everyone in the room to step out except for me. He told me that the only thing I had going for me was my sex appeal and that there was none of that in this movie. So he told me he was going to shut down the film because no one would want to see me in that role.

It was soul crushing because, I confess, lost in the fog of a sort of Stockholm syndrome, I wanted him to see me as an artist: not only as a capable actress but also as somebody who could identify a compelling story and had the vision to tell it in an original way.

I was hoping he would acknowledge me as a producer, who on top of delivering his list of demands shepherded the script and obtained the permits to use the paintings. I had negotiated with the Mexican government, and with whomever I had to, to get locations that had never been given to anyone in the past — including Frida Kahlo’s houses and the murals of Kahlo’s husband, Diego Rivera, among others.

But all of this seemed to have no value. The only thing he noticed was that I was not sexy in the movie. He made me doubt if I was any good as an actress, but he never succeeded in making me think that the film was not worth making.

He offered me one option to continue. He would let me finish the film if I agreed to do a sex scene with another woman. And he demanded full-frontal nudity.

He had been constantly asking for more skin, for more sex. Once before, Julie Taymor got him to settle for a tango ending in a kiss instead of the lovemaking scene he wanted us to shoot between the character Tina Modotti, played by Ashley Judd, and Frida.

But this time, it was clear to me he would never let me finish this movie without him having his fantasy one way or another. There was no room for negotiation.

I had to say yes. By now so many years of my life had gone into this film. We were about five weeks into shooting, and I had convinced so many talented people to participate. How could I let their magnificent work go to waste?

I had asked for so many favors, I felt an immense pressure to deliver and a deep sense of gratitude for all those who did believe in me and followed me into this madness. So I agreed to do the senseless scene.

I arrived on the set the day we were to shoot the scene that I believed would save the movie. And for the first and last time in my career, I had a nervous breakdown: My body began to shake uncontrollably, my breath was short and I began to cry and cry, unable to stop, as if I were throwing up tears.

Since those around me had no knowledge of my history of Harvey, they were very surprised by my struggle that morning. It was not because I would be naked with another woman. It was because I would be naked with her for Harvey Weinstein. But I could not tell them then.

My mind understood that I had to do it, but my body wouldn’t stop crying and convulsing. At that point, I started throwing up while a set frozen still waited to shoot. I had to take a tranquilizer, which eventually stopped the crying but made the vomiting worse. As you can imagine, this was not sexy, but it was the only way I could get through the scene.

By the time the filming of the movie was over, I was so emotionally distraught that I had to distance myself during the postproduction.

When Harvey saw the cut film, he said it was not good enough for a theatrical release and that he would send it straight to video.

This time Julie had to fight him without me and got him to agree to release the film in one movie theater in New York if we tested it to an audience and we scored at least an 80.

Less than 10 percent of films achieve that score on a first screening.

I didn’t go to the test. I anxiously awaited to receive the news. The film scored 85.

And again, I heard Harvey raged. In the lobby of a theater after the screening, he screamed at Julie. He balled up one of the scorecards and threw it at her. It bounced off her nose. Her partner, the film’s composer Elliot Goldenthal, stepped in, and Harvey physically threatened him.

Once he calmed down, I found the strength to call Harvey to ask him also to open the movie in a theater in Los Angeles, which made a total of two theaters. And without much ado, he gave me that. I have to say sometimes he was kind, fun and witty — and that was part of the problem: You just never knew which Harvey you were going to get.

Months later, in October 2002, this film, about my hero and inspiration — this Mexican artist who never truly got acknowledged in her time with her limp and her unibrow, this film that Harvey never wanted to do, gave him a box office success that no one could have predicted, and despite his lack of support, added six Academy Award nominations to his collection, including best actress.

Even though “Frida” eventually won him two Oscars, I still didn’t see any joy. He never offered me a starring role in a movie again. The films that I was obliged to do under my original deal with Miramax were all minor supporting roles.

Years later, when I ran into him at an event, he pulled me aside and told me he had stopped smoking and he had had a heart attack. He said he’d fallen in love and married Georgina Chapman, and that he was a changed man. Finally, he said to me: “You did well with ‘Frida’; we did a beautiful movie.”

I believed him. Harvey would never know how much those words meant to me. He also would never know how much he hurt me. I never showed Harvey how terrified I was of him. When I saw him socially, I’d smile and try to remember the good things about him, telling myself that I went to war and I won.

But why do so many of us, as female artists, have to go to war to tell our stories when we have so much to offer? Why do we have to fight tooth and nail to maintain our dignity?

I think it is because we, as women, have been devalued artistically to an indecent state, to the point where the film industry stopped making an effort to find out what female audiences wanted to see and what stories we wanted to tell.

According to a recent study, between 2007 and 2016, only 4 percent of directors were female and 80 percent of those got the chance to make only one film. In 2016, another study found, only 27 percent of words spoken in the biggest movies were spoken by women. And people wonder why you didn’t hear our voices sooner. I think the statistics are self-explanatory — our voices are not welcome.

Until there is equality in our industry, with men and women having the same value in every aspect of it, our community will continue to be a fertile ground for predators.

I am grateful for everyone who is listening to our experiences. I hope that adding my voice to the chorus of those who are finally speaking out will shed light on why it is so difficult, and why so many of us have waited so long. Men sexually harassed because they could. Women are talking today because, in this new era, we finally can.

[yakumtsaki]

CHILLIN LIKE A VILLAIN. Pleased with yourself, are you, Becky with the good hair?

-Oh quite, though I’d be more pleased if my damn arm would unglitch.

HA looks like it got stuck while you were putting your filthy hands on Wyatt. God’s punishment is swift. Know what else is gonna be swift? YOUR DEATH. Get him, Waylon Fairchild Dementia Raven Way!

-Ugh, no way, I’m exhausted, everyone is in love with me and I just want to be with Draco, ok? Why couldn’t Satan make me less beautiful? IT’S A CURSE

Waylon sis truly don’t even talk to me about curses and Satan right now, this entire lot is cursed and crawling with evil spirits and beelzebubian energies. Ever since we moved here my life has never known peace. Next thing you know snakes are gonna start manifesting in this house physically.

Well looks like the snakes are already here. FRANCES WILL YOU FUCKING STOP ALREADY YOU GOT WHAT YOU WANTED JOYATT IS DEAD NOW CEASE AND DESIST

-No way bitch, time to suffer. Look at it and weep, look at it with your own two eyes!

First of all I’ve been weeping since yesterday so joke’s on you. Secondly I still can’t believe you did this to me after I generously gave you this whole debonair look YOU’RE THE WORST

-La la la can’t hear you over the sound of your plans crumbling all around me!!

I’m seriously gonna murder you a thousand times. Wyatt what about you, you dumbass bimbo? What do you have to say for yourself?

-Not beaucoup, I honestly don’t know why I’m doing this, it makes absolument no sense! Huhu! 

I hate you both so fucking much I might actually vomit.

Ugh my poor Jojo </3 I’m so sorry that your love life has turned into a giant pile of crap.

-Please, who cares.. Definitely not me!

Yeah well that much is obvious! Are you sure you’re alright tho? Because you look, you know. worryingly expressionless and in denial.

-Oh no, I’m just focusing on my new proposal,“Project MKUltra: The Comeback”. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I have to deal with adulterous whores again!

Good, good, pour yourself into your art. Speaking of, maybe it’s also time to pour yourself a refreshing drink?

Attaboy, milk that cowplant, Jojo!

-Hmm this process feels oddly sexual..

Yea, I can tell by your massive erection, jesus, I mean even for you-

-Ew no what the hell? That’s just because Ti-Ning is dead!

Oh ok, that’s fine then!

-YES YEEEEES I FEEL THE POWER COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS

Hard to believe anything can course through your veins with all that ice in there but alright. Now we just have to wait..

..for the cowplant to get hungry again. I literally can’t with Daniel and Gunther constantly picking fights with Jojo’s former suitors, especially since Jojo doesn’t seem to give enough of a fuck to fight them himself. We are family, I got all my sisters with me!

Ugh I keep forgetting Daniel has 9 nice points, what a crybaby. How you gonna fight capitalism when you can’t even fight Wyatt?? MAN UP DAN

Nice, there we go! I’m truly living for Brit’s utter lack of interest in fights happening next to her. Her aspiration bar is about to hit the crapper bc I’m even worse at playing popularity sims than I am at getting couples not to whore around, so the time has come..

TO PARTY HARD, TOGA STYLE. I really threw this party thinking it would be a success and save Brit from aspiration failure, so obviously the time has come to acknowledge that I’m even stupider than Wyatt. Things get off to a good enough start with the profs tickling each other, which everyone knows is the mark of a wild college party!

Ti-Ning, gone but never forgotten.

-Hey Brit, want some Ti-Ning to wash down that pizza? 

-Please stop addressing me.

-That’s right, address moi instead! 

NO YOU DON’T WYATT. YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE

..........................................................................all I can say is LMAO

Wyatt, sweetie, full offense, exactly how dumb are you?

-What? I wanna marry Jojό! <3

Ok. Do you have any recollection of breaking his “heart” 2 hours ago, setting him on the path of a complete nervous breakdown?

-Oh, that was just a bump on la route, don’t be so dramatique!

-Does it count as a win if the only thing you put in the hole.. are your tears?

.....god.

Meanwhile and to the surprise of no one, Gunther is being sexually harassed by a professor, namely Down-With-The-Kids-Pink-Beanie.

-Sooo Gunther, half-alien professor told me all about you, you little ginger minx.. What do you say you and I adjourn somewhere private and I see if the carpet matches the drapes..

-EW forget it, lady, you’re not even in the art department and I only have one rule: no whoring without extra scoring.

Um what about the rule of monogamous dating which you are currently doing with Mel?

-RIGHT that too!

Once again...god.

The one person having a great time at this party is Kevin Beare, who eats half a pizza by himself..

..and then moves on to chips. He legit came here for the free food and didn’t talk to anyone the entire time, which is what I do at every party except with drinks. Live your truth, Kev!

Look who’s back from class and still glitched lolol

-Can you please reset me already, I had to take an exam like this!!!

Pfff grades??? There are so many more important things in life, Fran. Live a little, join the celebration.. party like there’s no tomorrow. CAUSE THERE ISN’T

I’ve no idea what happened here but Tiffany is non-stop bullying this 2006-Oliver-Sykes haired professor. Judging from Pink Beanie and sims professors in general it’s safe to say he deserves it. GET HIM TIFF 

-Why doesn’t anyone want to fuck me, Frank? What am I doing wrong? Has Woody Allen been lying to us about hot young women being uncontrollably attracted to neurotic, misogynist, mediocre intellectuals over 60?

Oh great, I thought this party was gonna end as a dud but I see we’re going for full-on disaster.

-I’ve just about had enough of you and your passé casquette, communiste! 

-My casquette is not passé, it’s classic!

-LADY STOP TRYING TO GET UNDER MY TOGA

-Aw come on, please? For mommy?

-You should use that line on Jojo where it might actually work!

Enemies, these bitches my enemies, not on my level so they just pretend to be, yes, why do you envy me? Cause I am the MVP, these bitches my enemies ♪

-FOR THE GLORY OF THE USSR 

Yea, seems about right. Whatever though, cause after the party..

COMES THE CAKE.

Goodbye Francis, it’s been nice, hope you find your paradise!

-Oh please, SEE YOU IN HELL BITCH. WAIT FOR ME CAUSE I’M GONNA FIGHT YOU THERE TOO

It’s a beautiful morning and our llama friend is back to spread some school pride and presumably some bodily fluids. We almost went an entire day without seeing him but here he is again!  GET OUT OF MELODY’S SHOWER YOU FUCKING CREEP

-FINE. YOU’RE GONNA APPRECIATE ME WHEN I’M GONE

Yea don’t worry that day is permanently coming as soon as we milk Frances out of the cowplant. Honestly this fucking llama is the last straw, the time has come for me to take back control of this house..

..starting with getting sweet, dumb Wyatt back with Jojo! I really think the Frances thing was a fluke, I mean W wasn’t in a committed relationship with Jo, he didn’t initiate it and he rolled the want to get engaged to him for the second time after it. So the whole thing = Fran’s + ACR’s fault!!!1 Also and more importantly we have literally 0 other viable options and college is almost done so it’s time for Jojo to put Lemonade on repeat and get over it.

Let’s bring out the big guns!

-Mom! it’s so good to hear your insufferably domineering voice. Did you get my latest murder pics?

-Ha! Yes they are great, thank you mom. Soon I’ll add the french courtesan to my album. Now tell me, in as much detail as possible, how proud of me you are!

-I don’t know how Wyatt is doing, he’s the french courtesan, I’m going to kill him! Are you even listening to me?

-What do you mean it’s probably my fault? Can you divorce dad already, his influence on your brain has been catastrophic.

-Love is a battlefield? Mom seriously. Divorce. Now.

-Ugh yes, I could imprison him in a gigantic safe for a few days instead of killing him, but what on earth would that achieve?

-Well I don’t care about having a husband! Worst case scenario, I’ll just marry Max!

-Yes, Max does look like dad. Yes, he is as dumb as him. YES, MOM, I KNOW. HONESTLY YOU’RE ONE TO TALK 

-Well, I have to go now, but you’ve certainly given me a lot to think about. And by that I mean which care home to put you in cause you’ve obviously lost it. Goodbye, mother.

As soon as Jojo hangs up the phone Melody runs over to autonomously lecture him. Nice move, Mel, let’s peer pressure him till he caves!

-Jojo this is an intervention but please don’t mistake it as me actually caring about you. Your bullshit harem drama has taken over the entire greek house storyline and enough is enough, we demand equal airtime. Just forgive Wyatt already, he’s too hot for you and you were literally dating 2 other dudes at the same time and you also treated him like shit and you are the worst and Gunther is the best and he’s gonna beat you for heir. Melody out.

Yes, powerful stuff, thank you, Mel. Now Wyatt, let’s apologize!

-I’m so sorry I kissed Frances, Jojό, I don’t know what I was thinking </3

That’s a great start Wyatt, now let’s try it facing the right way!

-I’m so sorry I kissed Frances, Jojό, I don’t know what I was thinking </3 Also I’m totally planning our wedding in my head you right now.

Ok, smaller steps, let’s get him to not hate you first!

If there’s one thing I hate about ts2 it’s how ridiculously hard it is to be forgiven for cheating, shit is unreal. Wyatt has been apologizing for about 3 years now and Jojo is still furious jfc, it’s legit easier to get forgiven for cheating irl than it is in this game.

-For the thousandth time, I’m so so sorry Jojό, honestly in the dark of the nuit at first I thought Frances was you and then it was too late!

-Yes, it was also broad daylight.

-Well you know I have bad eyesight, mon cheri :(

Wyatt seriously, we’ve reached the point where you’re throwing junk out there, so let’s take a break.. 

..from this fucking house! It’s date time! Time for dinner and public woohoo in that vegan restaurant downtown, cause I’ve ignored Gunther so hard his aspiration is currently scarlet red. Mel is doing great though, like all knowledge sims in uni, she’s legit never not-platinum. The adorable couple make themselves right at home, by doing literally what they do at home 20h a day. NOT WHAT WE CAME HERE FOR GET UP

-Maybe if we act like children they’ll think we’re under 12 and we’ll get a discount!

-We’re so in sync, babe, I brought my monster trucks with me for this very eventuality!

-Here, let me blow you a kiss, babe. A prelude of tonight’s blowing. 

-Honestly, every time you talk, I just see the eggplant emoji <3

I didn’t vomit from Wyatt/Frances but this date might actually do the trick!

-Do you think the waiter is mad that we insisted on lobster in a vegan restaurant and he had to go fishing for it?

-Whatever, babe, we deserve it. 

-We really do. I ship us.

-I ship us too <3

Good because I don’t anymore.

Yaas, aspiration problems taken care of! Mel’s shy ass hilariously had a fear of having her photo taken, but public fornication she has no issue with.

-Having your photo taken is unnatural! I’m just using the photo booth as god intended. 

Ofc, on the 6th day, god created the photobooth for people to publicly fuck in.

-Wow Mel, my reflection in your sunglasses is so beautiful.

-So is mine in yours, babe.

-I almost wish we could look into each other’s eyes but then it’d ruin our whole look. You know what, screw it..

-..I was gonna wait till we graduated it and were more mature and crap like that, but whatever, babe, when it’s right, you know. Will you marry me, Melody Tinker, despite the certainty that one or more of our kids will get the Komei nose?

-Oh my god, Gunther! I literally thought you’d never ask, because, let’s be real, you’re a gigantic slut.

-These days are gone, babe, I’m a changed man!

-This ring has been in my family for half a generation, ever since my mom stole it from Florence Delarosa who was obviously never gonna need it.

-Oh it’s beautiful and the fact it’s stolen makes it even more precious!

It’s morphin time! Let’s pretend the red around Gunther’s memory signifies passion and not a crippling fear of commitment. Congrats you gross, crazy kids!

It’s also morphine time, cause damn are we broke as shit. In hindsight perhaps we shouldn’t have gotten the lobster.

We return home, where I’m trying to fulfill Jojo’s longstanding wish to see Ti-Ning’s ghost but apparently Ti-Ning is an even bigger asshole dead than he was alive. Bitch seems to be deliberately refusing to scare Jojo, I mean we’ve been standing around playing ghostbusters for like 4 hours now and it’s just not happening-

-but some scary shit IS happening inside. WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS.

-What!? We’re just talking about our mutual interest in entertainment.

Brit seriously, don’t make me kill you cause I’ll do it, I’m kinda on a roll here and completely exhausted from this fuckery.

-Gawd, fine, I’m gonna go to sleep.

GO TO A DIFFERENT BED. I’ve noticed a sudden and disturbing reappearance of slutty wants in Gunther’s panel immediately after the engagement, which I’m guessing is some kind of regression back to his usual pattern, like he’s rolling wants to woohoo 10 sims and makeout with another 20 and idek. It’s extremely pissing me off and it’s also extremely not happening.

I JUST SAID IT’S NOT HAPPENING. FUCKING STOP IT.

-We’re just friends!!! Paranoid much?

CAN YOU BLAME ME 

Look here, THIS is the distance I wanna see between you two. It’s also NOT the distance I wanna see between Wyatt and Jojo, man this apology shit is taking fucking forever UGGGH

-Jojό, are you still mad at me?

-What do you think?

-No?

-Guess again.

-No?

-Ugh.

-Oh Jojό, I know you hate me but I’m gonna keep apologizing for the rest of ma vie, cause I really have nothing better to do. And also because je t’aime, Jojό.  Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold cold cœur?

YES. FUCKING FINALLY. I HEAR HEARTS I HEAR HEARTS!!!!!

THEY’RE JUST NOT COMING FROM THE LIVING ROOM!!!!!11

KILL ME. I WILL PAY SOMEONE TO KILL ME. DON’T TELL ME WHEN YOU’RE COMING JUST SHOW UP AND DO IT. TAKE MY CAT ON THE WAY OUT AND FIND HIM A GOOD HOME. I’M DONE.

[alexanderwrites]

Thoughts Roundup - Twin Peaks: The Return, Part 7

                               “There’s a body, alright”

A note: From here on out, i’m going to be rounding up my thoughts on new episodes of Twin Peaks: The Return week by week. I wrote a review of the first two episodes, but given my love for the show and the complexity of the episodes, typical reviews might be tricky, and it’d be a lot more fun to write in a looser format. So, i’m going to bullet-point my thoughts, which I promise will get boring and erratic.

. I’m really glad to see Jerry Horne again. He’s always been a favourite of mine, and even if this is pretty much all he does this season (which I imagine it will be), that’s good enough for me. Interesting that he mentions his car being stolen - there seems to be a lot about stolen cars this season. Whether they’re linked or just a common theme is open for debate. Maybe Frost or Lynch got their car nicked around the time of writing the series. 

. I absolutely adore Hawk having such a big part this series. It makes such logical sense that he’d have larger responsibilities within the department, and seeing him with the pages from Laura’s diary was immensely satisfying. The reference that Laura makes in the diary to the ‘dream’ she had of Annie is further reference to Fire: Walk With Me, which, if you haven’t seen it yet, is pretty much essential to this season so far. 

. I found it really interesting that Truman wasn’t surprised or confused at the mention of Cooper being trapped in the Black Lodge. He didn’t even ask what it was, so i’m guessing this was a chat the folks in the department had with him when he took the job. “Oh, b-t-dubs, there’s a gateway to what might be hell in the woods. Ask your brother about it And always make another pot of coffee if you finish it off”. I also found Truman, who until now hadn’t done much for me, pretty moving in his scenes tonight. His expression during his call to his terminally ill brother (we miss you, Harry! Kind of!) was rendered painfully on Robert Forster’s face - and I was really moved to see Doc Hayward, even briefly. He’s so visibly frail and old, and seeing all these old (and I mean OLD) faces really hits home the passing of time. There’s an everyday tragedy and pain in seeing it, made particularly poignant that Warren Frost (and several other cast members) passed away not so long ago. I keep wanting the Log Lady to come in with words of beauty and comfort about time passing and the world changing, but i’m not sure we’ll see her again (the actress, Catherine Coulson, passed away in 2015). It’s both saying hello, and goodbye, and the acknowledgement this show has always had that everything must pass is deeply affecting. I wasn’t expecting this series to make me ruminate on the nature of life and death so much. Thanks, assholes. 

Hayward talks about Cooper the morning he comes back from the Lodge - It’s so strange to hear the events of the morning that Cooper rammed his damn head into the mirror get discussed. It really drives home that the moment you’ve been thinking about for the past 2,000 years is getting some context and elucidation. It’s very, very cool. 

. Sheriff Truman pulls a small log-shaped handle and a computer monitor emerges from his desk. If you have a better example of old Twin Peaks merging with the modern world, i’d like to see it. Then i’d like to install it in my house.

. Harold Smith, that sad flower dweeb from season 2, got a mention! Again, it’s odd hearing references to smaller plot points in the series, but then again Doug and Duane Milford got a lot of attention in The Secret History of Twin Peaks. Turns out Doug was a flying saucer chaser, and with the amount of words he gets in the book, i’d be surprised if he’s not even passingly mentioned this season. 

. As well as not crying anymore, Andy has a new Rolex to go along with his new Michael Cera. I’m not sure where the story will go with the no-show guy who said he couldn’t talk to Andy, but I feel like its probably related to the drug story that seems to be running in the background. 

. Laura Dern, we love you. All of us. Every last one. Even with the most difficult to please of viewers, I doubt there’ll be a single complaint about her because she is the fucking best. It’s interesting that Diane’s so seemingly broken, leading us to wonder why - there were never really any clues about her personality, but you get the feeling that she was friendly, from the mere fact that Cooper talked to her via tapes so kindly and openly. So what happened? Bad Coop happened, is what. 

. I was pleasantly surprised at how swiftly the plot developed in this episode -  right after agreeing to meet Doppelcoop, they’re jetting off to see him. If this had been a few episodes earlier, it might’ve taken a while for them to get to it, but this episode knocked it out pretty efficiently. I didn’t think the show was too slow before, but it is a nice change of pace to get an episode with so much development.

. The windows on the jet disappear and reappear, right? I mean, I rewound that several times and they surely do. It’s not the light hitting them funny - they flash. I’m sure of it.

. Tammy hasn’t been given too much screentime yet, despite doing fairly important work - even though it seems Gordon has already sussed out the tasks she undertakes. He seems to be testing her abilities, which is why he assigns her to take over the research of the dossier, which makes up The Secret History of Twin Peaks. The scene where Gordon touches her fingers and says “I’m very, very happy to see you again, old friend” is funny, weird and ingenious. Gordon feels a lot like Cooper, but then, he always has. With his love of food, nature and coffee, and being filled with an affinity for everything, Gordon is an older Cooper and I hope he gets to see his old friend again. 

. Dern’s performance when she meets Doppelcooper is phenomenal and all registered in her fearful expression. It’s a gorgeously framed scene, with her head floating in the darkness of the room, looking at the man who is Not Her Friend. Her reference to that night is certainly ominous, but it did cross my mind that she was feeding him false information to see if he’d take it. Her reaction in the car park afterwards seems to suggest that it was true, though. Everyone seems to be in pain both from the absence of Cooper and from the presence of Doppelcooper. And it leads you to wonder again: what the fuck has Doppelcooper been up to these 25 years? And once again - both kudos and screw you to Kyle MacLachlan for being so utterly brilliant and frightening as Doppelcooper, especially in this prison scenes, where his voice seems to be slowed to a possessed and deep slur. This new season keeps offering up the chance to use such weird sentences: Kyle MacLachlan is terrifying and Matthew Lillard is scene stealing. 

. Of course the body was Garland Briggs. It had to be. Or did it? Who knows! It’s decades younger than it should be, and Briggs supposedly died in a fire a long time ago. We know he was taken by one of the lodges back in season 2, and has experienced the white lodge. We might wonder that if, after that, he gained some sort of...power? How else was his head floating in space those episodes back? And again with the bodiless heads! The nightmare bastard roaming the halls in this episode is the same ghoul whose head floated away in the first episode, and Josie Packard’s headless (or faceless, at least) body was, in an original script, supposed to be seen in a black lodge scene. People losing their heads seems to be a common theme again. Would it have been too on the nose, and i might add, awful, if Where’s Your Head At? had played in the morgue scene? It’s hard to be on the nose when you haven’t got a head! Wahey!

. This episode is very light on Cooper (i’m not going to call him DougieCooper because he’s not Dougie! He just wears his bad clothes sometimes!), but he came along almost as soon as I thought “Hey, where’s Coop?”. Naomi Watts kills it again with her impatient anger, and I love that she’s written as someone at her wit’s end (or should that be Watt’s end? Nope, it shouldn’t) but that still cares for her dumbass husband. And then we get maybe our clearest answer that Coop is still Coop: he kicks a bit of ass. It’s a very satisfying and well choreographed fight, and the Arm popping up to give fight advice was kinda cool and kinda funny. It seems that the lodge dwellers, or at least some of them, are helping Coop. Mike, The giant, and the Arm have all advised him, and seemingly given him some special insights. I think they want Cooper alive so he can, to paraphrase GOB Bluth, return Doppelcoop from whence he came. He was due back in, as that call in episode 1 told him, so maybe the lodge spirits are getting utterly fed up on waiting on his ass. They’re letting Coop live so he can go and sort it out. It has been 25 years after all. Stop hogging Bob, bro. 

. Some interesting stylistic choices in the news coverage scenes after the fight which felt like they were from another show, but I kinda dug it anyway. Will someone in Twin Peaks see Cooper in the news footage and put two and two together? I’m not in a massive rush for Cooper to wake up - but it will be spectacularly rewarding once he does.

. Is Josie haunting the hotel? Last we saw her, she was trapped in a doorknob, and Pete (we miss you Pete! Really!) was seeing her face above the fireplace (the nonchalance of that moment always really freaked me out), and now there is a sourceless humming sound throughout the hotel, which kind of sounds like the mystical ringing sound that we hear whenever The Giant rocks up. It really is happening again, isn’t it? Great to see more Ben, though his P sounds are less Plosive than they used to be, and he hasn’t eaten ANYTHING yet. But he’s still a lot of fun to watch, and i’m hoping - because i’m a softie who likes goodies - that his humanitarianism lasted. And i’m also beginning to think - with all the references to Audrey’s condition after the bank blast (bank blast sounds like shitty video game) - that Audrey will have been physically effected long term by what happened. I’m beginning to really look forward to seeing her, though I dread the idea that Doppelcoop is the father of her awful bastard son.

. It’s so uncannily Lynchian to drop in on someone like Beverly’s life, someone who we know next to nothing about, and give her a fairly substantial scene. It even feels like it might not go much further than that, and that dropping into her soap opera life (Twin Peaks’ soapiness is still there!) for this scene is just Lynch giving us a little look at domestic turmoil in Twin Peaks. But who knows. Who knows which characters are a one-scene deal, and which will fit into the larger narrative. Where is goddamn MATTHEW LILLARD???

. Jacques Renault’s identical brother(?) got some lines! And surprise surprise: he’s a scumbag! The sweeping scene was weirdly engrossing, especially with Green Onions playing in the background. And my god, how warm and cosy did the Double R look tonight?? With Sleepwalk by Santo & Johnny playing, and the lighting as warm and oak-tinted as ever, it’s maybe the one place in Twin Peaks you’d want to hang out. Especially with lovely, lovely Shelly and Norma working there. They’re such likeable and instantly welcoming people to see, and it’s hard not to wish they were your friends. And, I don’t like to focus too much on how the actors look - but Madchen Amick literally has not aged a day and it’s very confusing how she’s managed that. I guess there is something special in Norma’s family pie recipe. Also, i’ve heard people say the guy who pops his head in asks if anyone has seen “Bing”, but on re-listening, it’s 100% Billy and not Bing. There is someone named Bing in the credits - whether he’s any relative of Chandler’s is present is yet to be seen. It could be something, or it could be another version of that “It’s a boy? It’s a boy! It’s a boy!” bank security guy from Season 2. Just someone yelling some dumb shit.

. Some great music in this episode too, both new score and old. With the ominous shots of the foggy woods set to the opening notes of Laura Palmer’s theme playing (the scary bit, not the sad bit) I genuinely got chills. 

. Doppelcoop is on the loose and you can feel the story pushing forward now he’s out. I get the feeling we won’t see the Prison Warden again, and that everything they talked about has a backstory but one that is not necessarily important for us to learn about. Just know that Doppelcoop is loose, and where he goes now is an open question. To kill Cooper? How could you kill a man your exact double? It’d be so surreal. And would make for a weird, bad-wig-wearing stunt double fight scene. And the idea of unawake Cooper being hurt makes me even sadder than the idea of Lucid Cooper being hurt, somehow. He’s a sympathetic thing really, and he needs someone outside the black lodge to help him. He’s called for help though, and either Gordon or Hawk are on his trail, thankfully. 

SUMMARY

This episode, more than any other yet, felt like Twin Peaks of old. We spent more time in the town, and the atmospherics of the town felt more prevalent too. It does feel like we’re being eased back into the town which is great fun, though I love everything set outside too. A narrative cohesion is coming about as the story’s 2nd act clicks into place, and there’s some real momentum going in this hour. Whether or not that keeps going next week (I think it will), i’m happy to let the show do its thing because this episode has shown that patience does pay off. We will get there, and we should probably learn to enjoy the journey as much as the destination. Remember, Lynch and Frost have pretty big hard-ons for Mysteries, and that always has been, and always will be the core of the series. But goddamn it if it isn’t fun seeing that mystery chipped away at in tonight’s episode. 

    “Keep working the sunny side of the river, doc”

[thisiswhatafighterlookslike]

My Pageant Journey

In September 2016, I saw a post from my FB friend Chontell Lucas (Miss SC Plus America 2016) asking ladies to consider taking the pageant journey in the next year. My initial thought... “Not for me.” Over the next few days, I saw the post a few more times and I kept being drawn to it, even though I didn’t want to be...LOL! So I eventually left a comment on one of the posts, wishing her well on the next phase of her own journey and assuring her she would find the ladies she was looking for. A few messages later my, now friend, was in my inbox talking to me about the pageant and sharing with me her belief that I would do well. She felt I really should consider it. Hmmm I don’t know... maybe... I told her I just never believed in pageants and I still don’t. I don’t believe in competitions and the thought of me standing on a stage (especially as a plus size woman) for someone to judge me and tell me if I am “good enough” or “the best or not” according to THEIR opinions just was not going to work for me. She shared with me, that she had the same feelings and that she was in my exact same position not long before me. She completely understood. She explained Miss Plus America (MPA) is more of a community service driven, faith based pageant...they aren’t just focused on beauty. She is said “Sis you do so much in the community and with your own work as it is, you got that part!” (She was selling it lol!) Ok so my personal reflection, I no longer use the “label” or term “Plus” for myself. I had weight loss surgery in 2014, tipping the scales approx 440lbs! Once I lost significant weight and got focused on my goal, I just didn’t look back on any term connected to my “former” look and life. So for me, “Plus” was not a word I called myself or desired to in over 2 years. It wasn’t bad or something I hated, I just was focused on moving forward and getting smaller and healthier. Words have power. So we have to be mindful of the power we give them in our lives. But the truth is prior to seeing the post and my conversation with my friend, I had been thinking about a few things and wondering what I wanted or needed to do in the next 6 months to year, if at all. 

1) To Pageant or Not Pageant... That is the Question! With doctors telling me cancer was taking charge of my body and it’s functions, I began to write the proverbial “Bucket List.” I thought of some things I had not done and looked at the reasons. I asked myself the Reason, I didn’t want to be in a pageant. I forced myself to be honest. It wasn’t just not wanting to be judged. Because the truth is, I am strong enough to handle that. It was words I had deep in my mind, heart, spirit...words spoken from my ex-husband that I had tucked away. Yet, they weren’t maybe so tucked. Words speaking to me, telling me that I could not be accepted or received at my size, that I am not as beautiful as I could be being so “Big” and the only people that see me as appealing are just men who like BBW. Words shot at me saying the world has not come to truly accept fat people, especially fat women and a fat black woman, will always be viewed as a lazy and “less than’ woman, so I will never be truly accepted or valued for who I am or seen as beautiful as other women no matter how well I dress, speak or carry myself. I THOUGHT I didn’t give these words my attention, but somehow they were coming to the surface after many years and torturing my thoughts on a regular basis as my life and work was becoming more public. So were the people who said they love me and love my look, lying to me, was I as good as the next woman. I found myself trying to hide in public places and although I never stopped working and doing all the many things I loved, I preferred to do more from behind the scenes and place others in the front. So now a pageant... no I don’t think so. BUT, was my reason good enough to go to my grave with? I was beginning to think it wasn’t I needed to face this, address this... Embrace this. I needed to take this journey at least once, and even if I didn’t win... I did it! I needed to be able to kill and bury those words and be done with them for good. 

2) Was “Plus” really such  a bad word? I looked in the mirror. Why was I so upset with this word? It didn’t have anymore power now then it did in 2014 when I was over 400lbs! So what was my issue? As long as a word could affect my world and attitude, I was not free, and I believe in living freedom. I thought about the reality of my life. Due to all the treatments I was taking and even the chemotherapy (yes we don’t all lose weight) I was at a major stall in my weight loss and had even gained at some times. So at this time in my life, I am a Plus Size woman and as I faced the mirror and looked at old pictures.. that was absolutely ok. I am still smart, beautiful, loving, giving, and every bit the same person I always was and nothing could be taken from the success of my previous weight loss. I may not be where I want to be but I surely was not where I was! I also thought, how many women (young women) look up to me and are inspired by me at my current image. These ladies see someone that encourages them to be their best and be who they are at their own best. I get countless messages and emails from females who tell me when they see me, they are so inspired and uplifted. When meet me and see a full figured woman who has curves, yet remains elegant while embracing fashion and personal style, they feel better about themselves. So I felt I owed it to them to show them you walk that pageant stage Full Figured, Curvy, Positively Plus and LIVE in that! You are inferior to NO one due to the size and shape of your body. 

So after about a week and lot of reflection, I decided to GO FOR IT! What did I have to lose really? Nothing to really lose but the crown. I would gain experience from the journey, freedom, connections to new ladies and beautiful friendships, learning more about other platforms and causes and investing myself more in this state of SC that I call home and what it has to offer. 

These months of preparation of definitely been a process. It is always interesting coming into a group of people you don’t know and getting to know them. You hope and pray it goes well and you become good acquaintances and if you are truly blessed, you develop genuine friendships and embrace sisterhood. Of course this is all a “time and work” situation... you get out what you put in. Honestly, in the beginning, I wasn’t putting in much, or as much as I could for my own reservations and issues, but over time I began to get comfortable with these beautiful ladies and they became a part of my life. 

In March, I believe most of our lives officially changed during the Crowning Ceremony & Bootcamp Weekend. We were all finally together with each other and able to meet, chat, work together and really get to know one another. I was happy to meet these lovely ladies and connect faces to some hearts who had become so beautifully kind to me over the last few months and particularly the last few weeks. 

I wish I could say my journey was just a challenge of personal adjustment and getting to know various personalities. That would be SO easy... a cake walk! It became a literally painful challenge as my health became a major issue for me, that exceeded far beyond the pageant and affected everything I did and attempted to do. As it affected my body, the pain intensifying and weakness and sickness increasing, it affected my mentally and emotionally. I started to feel like such a failure and I was letting everyone down. I began to battle with the notion to step down. I never want someone to feel they can count on me, or look for me and I not be there. I take my obligations and my word seriously. My finances were hit hard, as my medical insurance was erroneously cut back in November and I was without coverage for little over 90 days. This had me paying for some of my meds, appointments and treatments out of pocket and some I had to go without, some doctors/appointments I had to reschedule and 2 procedures were rescheduled until they could be covered by insurance. This very negatively affected my health. But I didn’t tell anyone. Some I didnt even share with my parents. I was quiet in my own world. I kept thinking, maybe this was a mistake, or maybe not now. But my heart would never allow me to let it go. Right before Christmas, I showed my dr 2 lumps under my right arm that had been bothering me for about 3 months. I think I had been putting off mentioning them out of fear. We scheduled biopsy and in February I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma. This was in addition to the Ovarian Cancer and Leukemia. I was hit with a hard blow and I really was broken... During this time I kept complaining about pain when I ate and even drank a lot. I was told this was probably the ovarian cancer and just being tired, but we will do some tests. Well after 3 trips to hospital, I was diagnosed with Crohns Disease! A result of the Chemo!!! So now what do I do?  I finally had a talk with my ambassador Kendra and my director and they encouraged me to keep going, but pace myself. Something I have no clue how to do! LOL! 

As I got closer to pageant weekend the biggest issue became managing my pain. It was getting harder and harder. A year ago my bones in lower back, hips and legs began to show deterioration. I was told they did not know how well I would be able to dance/walk in a year, or If I could at all. My doctor strongly advised I stopped wearing my beloved stilettos, slow down and change my life to something more peaceful. Despite how much I remain active and I have NOT given up my beloved stilettos/heels (nor do I plan to), it has become so painful to walk. I have taken a break from dance/choreography. We decided 2 weeks ago to test a neurostimulator in my back to assist with pain management. It definitely was no “magic cure” but for the first time in well over a year, I was able to sleep. So after a 4 day test, we agreed place permanent device in, at least for now. The issue, I had some problems after the fact that put me on medical restriction and my doctor was absolutely not in favor of me going to the pageant. I had to cross this finish line! I spoke to the staff, made them aware. I was tempted to just say I can’t do it. But I just do not have “Quit” in me! 

So Pageant Weekend. I didn’t have the finances for so much I still needed and it seemed so many signs were saying... this is not your time Lady lol! But down to the final moments... God stepped in! I was blessed with the money and all the pieces of clothing I needed! My hotel was paid for in full and I never worried about eating. I was here and I finally at peace! My journey was coming to an end and all was getting better...No..all was well! I was bonding with my SisterQueens in a beautiful way and I just felt good! 

Pageant Day... I woke up and everything felt WRONG! OMG No! I was in so much pain, I woke up weak, dizzy, stuggling to speak, I couldn’t get out of bed. In fact, I couldn’t sit up. I had to really pray and focus my movements. I crawled to the bathroom. I prayed. Tears poured down my face, I worked too hard to get here to not be able to complete this. Normally days with this pain, I medicate and REST. Today I need to PUSH. I pulled myself up and was able to get to my bottle of water and take my meds. Laid down for 15 minutes and slowly began to get ready... I was feeling well enough to move and hide the pain..but with every movement I had sharp pains shooting through my body and the weakness felt like someone through 50lb weight on my back!!!!!! I began to sing to myself and tell myself.. You can do this! I got to the venue for final rehearsal and I was.. OK. I led the ladies in heartfelt prayer as we started our day and I felt positive. As the morning went on, the looks from the queens started and they were asking.. “are you ok?” my response...”yes I am just tired.” but no the pain was getting worse by the moment. I did my walk through for my elegant pants wear and I had to lean on a table backstage. I thought just take a minute and breathe...... But something was wrong..the room was going black and pain went through every inch of my body. I have pain induced seizures and I needed to avoid blacking out. I was trying to sit on the floor.. but I only remember waking up laying on the ground. I had passed out. For a few minutes I couldn’t speak but I could hear and see people around me. After a few minutes I was on my feet and able to communicate some. The decision was made to send me back to my hotel instead of stay at rehearsal. I was upset... this was my day and I had to finish it! I took a nap and woke up still extremely weak and very much in pain. But I was taking that stage! My ambassador called to check on me. Ultimately the final decision was mine. I answered... I’m on my way. I am pushing through. See you soon. 

MY MOMENT.... The night was finally at its apex and I actually felt a little better. I was laughing with everyone and relaxing offstage as we were preparing for our final awards and crowning. This was it. I stood in my coral strapless chiffon gown and matching heels. I won the Against All Odds Award and that was very special to me. I held it close to my heart. Now they called the queens for the “Mrs” Division forward... and they announced the winner... LEYA ELIJAH-ELLER! She is now you Mrs South Carolina Plus America. I looked at the 2016 winner who is a dear friend and it was so emotional... I said to her... We Did It! We both fought our tears. As they were crowning me and putting on my sash and still handing my trophies...lol... I got ready to take my first walk... Yeah. I lost my ballance...the crowd gasped. I actually laughed. I  cant even desribe how bad my bones were hurting at that point and my stomache was throbbing in pain... but it was a fleeting moment... I smiled that signature smile and recovered... I took my walk... I was humbled. I DID IT! I WON!!!  

Some parts of my journey were too personal, and I will keep those private. But I wanted to share in detail the journey of a Positively Plus Size Beauty... 39 year old mom of 3 young adults, currently surviving cancer, truly fighting like a girl... This journey to Queen taught me more about myself; my personal strength, inner strength, body confidence, self image and love for life and others. I during my time as Mrs SC Plus America 2017, I intend to encourage as many women as I can to face their face fears, live life, leave no regrets on the table and most of all cross that finish line no matter what! Who knew that responding to a FB post would result in my becoming Queen! 

Ladies if my blog shows you one thing I hope its this, every dream you have is very real, and it was given to you for you to manifest. Don’t the issues and obstacles of life stop you from letting the LIVE. 

This is your Mrs SC Plus America 2017, showing you “This Is What A Fighter Looks Like!!!!” Until the next time... stay Fierce and Fabulous and Fight for what you love, desire and want! 

~Leya~