#I’ll absolutely elaborate on this at the drop of a hat if anyone wants to ask | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imagine-that · 4 years

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You silently pull yourself through the open window one foot after the other, just barely grazing the windowsill with your bare ankle.

Just as you think you’ve not only managed to get in but also managed to do so with grace, the cuff of your jeans snags on a screw by the window. You tug on your ankle desperately until somehow you pull with too much force and go tumbling to the floor.

“Damn it.” You curse under your breath as you quickly get back up to your feet.

You take a quick look around you, checking your surroundings. When all you see is pristine, perfect organization and no other people, you quickly make your way across the floor and grab the door handle carefully, opening it and slipping into the hall, shutting it back to its initial position as best you can.

You take a brisk walk down the hallway and open up another door and breath a sigh of relief when you see a massive wall filled with dozens of hats. You slip through the doorway and let your fingertips feel the brim of one, admiring the craftsmanship.

Too mesmerized, hypnotized even, you pick it up and place it on your head, though you aren’t fully certain what possessed you to do so.

“Well well. What have we here?” A voice says and you freeze in place, unsure what else you could do.

“Quite the collection you have here.” You comment, nodding to the numerous hats and trying to keep your cool.

He merely moves closer in response. “I believe this is what some would call breaking and entering. I should tell you, I know the local sheriff.” He warns, taking another slow and calculated step towards you.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” You scoff, still making no efforts to face the mystery man. “Everyone knows everyone in Storybrook, it’s kind of hard not to.” You add, smiling to yourself at the thought of not knowing basically everyone in town.

“Ah well I have a feeling she would particularly remember the man who tried to kidnap her.” He says with ease.

You whip around in alarm, the hat still perched on top of your mess of y/h/c hair and your smile fallen and find yourself being backed into a wall.

“I believe that belongs to me.” He says in a low, seductive voice with a lazy grin of his own. “Though it does appear to look much better on you.” He adds smoothly, looking you up and down with the same grin still on his face.

He moves in even closer and you back away, your back hitting the wall as his arm reaches out and he delicately plucks the hat off, settling it back onto his own head.

He slowly moves his hand back towards your face, pushing whisps of your hair behind your ear lightly, his fingertips gently grazing your jawline as he does so. He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look right at him.

“Now, I’d like to know what kind of a person breaks into this place when I have had people who nearly died trying to get out.” He says, looking you up and down slowly with a quizzical look.

“The fact that you kidnap people doesn’t scare me psycho.” You inform him stubbornly, yanking your face away from his grasp.

He goes into a low and dark laugh, sounding even more unhinged, something you didn’t realize was possible. “I am not crazy, alright darling?” He insists, a new sharpness to his voice.

“But of course you are.” You say, crossing your arms and keeping your distance.

He jumps up in anger, grabbing a pair of scissors off the table and rushing at you, shoving you against the wall.

“I. Am not. Crazy.” He tells you, his teeth grinding together in fury.

“Alright. Maybe you’re just mad then.” You say, shrugging, you current position of extremely close proximity of no bother to you.

He looks at you in shock, taken aback. He nearly drops the shining silver scissors to the ground.

“What’d you say?” He asks quietly, a suddenly more soft expression replacing the angry one.

“I said mad. Am I right about that Hatter?” You ask with a grin of your own.

“How- what- who are you?” He demands, clearly confused.

“I’d tell you but I kind of like to introduce myself when I’m not pinned against a wall.” You respond, raising a challenging eyebrow with a smile.

He hesitantly backs away but keeps the scissors tightly in hand.

“Why thank you.” You say, taking his hat off his head and bowing with a flourish and tip of the hat before standing straight and placing it back on your own head. “Y/n’s the name.” You tell him.

“Truly a wonderful name for a wonderful person I suppose.” He says with a devilish smirk.

“Do you do that often? Change from mad to charming? It’s intriguing, truly.” You remark, leaning back against his work desk.

“Nevermind that. My name is Jefferson. Now, explain why you’re in my home?” He asks, toying with one of the unfinished hats on the table.

“Alright I suppose I could. Long story short, I’m from wonderland. I was trapped there for a long, long time. My sister wasn’t. She was off by the sea or something. Then, this curse or whatever it is happens and I end up here in Storybrook, basically knowing exactly who I am when it seems no one else does.” You explain with a tired sigh.

You’d gone over the story in your head over and over and over but you felt it seemed more crazy everytime. You feared no one but Henry would ever believe you but here you were.

“It would seem we’re in a similar situation.” He says with a small, bitter laugh. When he notices your intrigued expression, he sighs. “My daughter.... Grace... she was in the enchanted forest waiting for me to return. the evil queen fooled me and left me there for the queen of hearts to deal with.” He elaborates. You nod a bit.

“I know the queen of hearts well. She’s a certain kind of evil.” You tell him, shuddering a bit at the name.

“Don’t I know it.” He mutters. You raise an eyebrow and he pulls down the collar of his shirt without hesitation, refusing to meet your gaze. “Off with his head.” He laughs to himself as he makes his impression of the wicked queen of hearts.

You let your eyes trail the scar going all around his neck and scoff in somewhat disbelief. “She did that to you?” You ask and when he nods sullenly you feel yourself fill with all kinds of rage. “She is a cruel and heartless woman. That I definitely remember.” You growl, sneering at the mere thought of her.

“Yes true but it’s alright I lived. And besides, now I’m here and this seems much worse than having my head chopped off so at least there’s a bright side!” He says with another crazy laugh.

You feel yourself giggling a bit too, unable to help the grin spreading across your face.

“You definitely live up to the name, I’ll tell you that much.” You say with a shake of your head.

He takes a playful bow, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “I’m glad. But if you’re from wonderland, who are you? In the... stories I mean.” He asks, gritting his teeth at the word stories.

“I’m surprised you can’t tell from the smile.” You quip with a smirk.

“Ah. The Cheshire Cat then, I presume?” He asks, smirking right back as you nod.

“Didn’t you say you had a sister? Is she also a cat in the fairytale world then?” He asks curiously.

“No she isn’t. Just me. I’m almost like Ruby is in that world. She can change into a wolf involuntarily but I change into a cat whenever I want. It can be quite useful.” You explain with a small shrug.

“Ruby?” He questions and you smile in disbelief.

“Do you not leave this place ever? Never met anyone else?” You ask, fully interested in learning more about the mystery of a man in front of you.

“No, I’d rather not deal with Regina or with seeing my daughter with another family.” He informs you, looking out the window thoughtfully.

“Jefferson, it’s understandable but at some point, you have to leave to be able to get your daughter back.” You inform him and you take quick notice to the smile on his face when you say his name.

“At some point, maybe. But not now. Sorry darling.” He responds with a sad smile. “Now, why exactly did you decide to come and crawl through a second story window in my house kitten?” He asks with another grin.

You feel yourself blushing heavily at the nicknames.

“I came for a hat to get home but clearly if you had it you wouldn’t be here.” You say with a sigh.

“That is correct. I have yet to find my way home, sadly, though I suppose some may call me lucky to have a prison such as this one.” He says with another smirk as he gestures around the room for emphasis.

“Regina is a cruel, cruel woman. I do hope you’re returned to your daughter soon.” You murmur as you stand up, pulling the beautifully crafted tophat off your head.

He looks at you in a mix of surprise, confusion and sadness.

He pushes himself off the wall and saunters over to you, still watching your every movement longingly.

“And where exactly are you going? Not giving up, I hope.” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m going home.” You tell him, placing the hat into his hands. “It’s been a long day.” You add with grin.

You turn to walk away but he jumps in front of you.

“Wait, wait, wait!” He says nervously. You watch him, amused. He carefully places the hat back on your head and tips it off to the side a bit. “Much better. As I said, it suits you. And as you said, I have plenty.” He remarks as he steps back slightly, admiring the view.

You let out a laugh. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. I’ll wear it as often as possible.” You promise as you stand on your toes, placing a quick, delicate kiss on his cheek.

At first, he looks absolutely stunned. Then thrilled. Then he looks hungry for more. And he is, so you learn when he leans in and pushes his lips onto yours, desperately deepening the kiss. You follow his movements, melting into him.

He’s the first to pull away, proving to you once again that he’s unpredictable and full of tricks up his sleeves.

“To think I nearly killed you thief.” He says with a small smirk.

You feel a grin bigger than you’d ever had, even as the Cheshire Cat, spreading across your face.

“That would’ve been an absolute shame. For both of us. Especially considering I didn’t technically steal anything. Except maybe your heart of course.” You respond teasingly and he chuckles a bit.

You turn on your heel, walk towards the door and stop abruptly in the doorway.

“Oh and Jefferson?” You say, looking back at him.

“Yes y/n?” He asks, clearly a little hopeful that you’ll stay, which you find absolutely adorable.

“I’ll be back.” You promise. And then you smirk. “We have a home to get back to.” You add, blowing a kiss to him.

He grins and you grin back, tip your hat to him with a dramatic flair as you know he probably would in this situation and walk out the door.

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im-gettingby · 4 years

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30 Days of Carry On

posted (and written by?) @captain-aralias

(I’m doing most of these at once because I said so. it’s long so under the cut)

1. Favourite major character

I literally thought — Simon no Baz no Penny no, Agatha!

I guess I will pick Simon, since I relate to him the most — or at least, my connection to him led me into the fandom.

2. Favourite minor character

I think we all know this one 🐑🐑🐑

I have written many a treatise on Lamb Rights. I’ll spare everyone now

3. Character you relate to the most

Oops— I already answered this, kinda. I relate to them in different ways: I relate a lot to WS Simon because he has abandonment issues and “kid who was told he was extraordinary and then grew up to be ordinary” issues. We also both have a “fix all the things for everyone” complex, too.

Baz — It took me a while to get into Baz’s head, but I would say, I relate to him because of his intense emotional world and tendency to see the world through an intensely romantic/tragic lens. But also he’s a Pisces. and I’d never do that like a Pisces does. (Sorry, not sorry.)

4. Which character would you like to go to lunch with?

SHEPARD obviously. I don’t feel the need to elaborate.

5. Favourite non-Snowbaz ship

Ooh! Probably Lamb/Baz or Simon/Shep or just...literally anything. Like, I will read anything as long as it’s well written. The weirder the better. (Within...legal and moral limits.) in my other fandoms I’ve been a big multishipper and there’s not a lot of options for that in CO - which is fine - but wholeheartedly support rarepairs :D

6. Favourite non-romantic OTP

So, obviously Simon/Penny and Baz/Penny are great ones, but I think the nearest & dearest to my heart is Simon/Agatha. The kind of siblings/unwillingly dating/weird exes dynamic and the way they both shaped each other’s lives is just so interesting. And while Simon & Penny are closer, Agatha and Simon represent their aspirational selves to one another. And the way that they were both tied to one another along with their gender roles/places in society and both broke away at the same time is just...mwah

7. Favourite Baz outfit

I honestly dress kinda like Baz. Anything involving a printed silk shirt or a floral brocade suit, so like, all of them? I love WS Baz, his fashion sense is so thoughtful yet fun. He’s so expressive with it — in the sense of both being guarded, being sexy, and playing with masculinity/femininity.

8. How do you feel about Wayward Son?

In case it wasn’t obvious, I absolutely love it. I mean, from a writing/narrative standpoint, I don’t think it’s the most elegant or engaging book ever written, but it’s just so raw and fresh. I don’t see many examples of an author trying to do what Rainbow did, which is build a complex emotional AND plot-driven story with so many characters and so much lore. I’m very excited for AWTWB.

9. Favourite scene from Carry On, besides Chapter 61

I like what the book does/sets up overall. Honestly probably the first scene, where Simon walks to the bus stop & takes the train and just thinks about his life and makes lists -- I love Simon. I know Rainbow said she thinks that bit is boring, but it honestly says so much about his character in a short time. (and he’s an extremely complex character!) Also, Baz’s dramatic entrance. Also, the chapter where Baz says “and I’m hopelessly in love with him” because it’s just so dramatic, and it comes out of nowhere

10. Favourite scene from Wayward Son, besides Chapter 41

Baz and Lamb’s journey across the Strip - vampire lore, jealous Simon, Baz getting to be his own character— it’s beautiful.

11. Remind us about something in canon readers might have forgotten about

Ahahaha um. Simon says he thinks Baz’s cousin Marcus is fit. That’s pretty funny.

12. What are your hopes and fears for Any Way the Wind Blows?

I don’t have any hopes because I don’t want to be disappointed - and that’s not a cynical thing, I just want to go into it with an open mind. (I’ll take a break from fandom and reread the books beforehand so I’m (more of) a blank slate) I guess just...interesting emotional journeys, whatever that ends up being. There’s a lot that Rainbow has to do in the book and I don’t think any one person could get through all of it -- that’s why we have fanfiction.

Fears? I don’t know. I think just...the series ending. Even though I’ve been in fandom for less than a year I just really love this fandom & the thought of that kind of eroding away is sad. But also I don’t think that will happen immediately, and change is a part of life. I’ve never related as much to Cath as I do now :’)

13. An unpopular/cracky opinion you hold

unpopular: Lamb is the best character; I don’t want Simon to get his magic back; both Simon and Baz should have other romantic options.

14. Something from your head fanon

Hmmmmmmm well. Just mean things about Baz really. Like that he’s weird looking, not that great at football, and actually has kind of garish fashion sense. (which is a self-roast as well - see above.) I just feel like Simon/fandom put him on a pedestal, and Simon’s an unreliable narrator re: Baz anyway. So I like the idea that Baz is this average looking kinda strange nerdy guy who is everything Simon has ever wanted in life.

And before you tell me that Baz was hot at Watford and Agatha was into him, have you ever been to a tiny boarding school? Standards get weird 😂😂😂 and Terry being into him — come on. The guy’s a violent pervert.

also - back to Watford being a tiny school. Baz doesn’t have much competition to be the star of the football team. (also, does anyone except Simon even think that he is?)

16. Favourite location other than Watford

Vegas!

17, Favourite location in Watford

I’m pretty bad at Watford lore/geography bc again, I’m way more into WS. Probably the floor in the Cloisters where everything happens the same way, just a day later. There’s a fic there, but I can’t wrap my head around all the time travel implications enough to write it.

18. What would be your favourite subject at Watford?

Any potions-esque subject because I loved chemistry lab. Latin because I loved Latin in school. Uhhhh I don’t like history class, so not that — maybe a literature course focused on the derivation of spells.

19. What would your magical implement be?

Ooh! This is a good one. I’d like to think it would be a weird body piercing. Or a belt a la Gareth. Maybe some kind of traditional south Asian jewelry, like a nose chain or mang-tikka or something. maybe a hat. like, imagine your magical instrument being a fedora and you just have to...wear a fedora all the time.

21. Favourite canon spell

Hm. Kiss it better? Candle in the wind?I should try to think of a non-horny one. honestly they’re all so cool and clever - I love the magic system in CO/WS.

22. What would your eighth year spell at Watford be or do?

Maybe something from a poem I love. That would probably be pretty but not very functional. Or a healing spell.

23. Who would you want as your roommate?

Agatha is uptight, Penny is passive aggressive, Simon is a slob, Baz is both uptight and passive aggressive.

Definitely Shepard.

24. Favourite item of merchandise, official or unofficial

My @subparselkie sticker

25. Favourite book cover design

WS. Oh, another unpopular opinion - I don’t like the kevin wada cover of carry on. their faces look so weird and the colors don’t work for me. I own the version with the blue and yellow cover art instead

26. Do you want a movie? If yes - any fan casts for the movie?

Probably wouldn’t want a movie! Because I am way too possessive of these books/this version of the story. And I am historically extremely disappointed by adaptations — I get upset with the smallest of changes 😂

27. If they made a movie, what scenes do you think they’d cut that you’d be furious were missing?

See above. A LOT haha

28. If you could ask Rainbow Rowell one question, what would it be? (If you have already, you can share if you like)

What is Lamb’s full name????? Is it actually Lamb Lambert Lamborghini the third???

What is Rainbow’s relationship with sheep and goats. Why are there so many references to them

29. Have you read any of Rainbow’s other books?

Only Fangirl

30. How did you get into Carry On and/or Carry On fandom?

I read fangirl & the pages at the end mentioned carry on, so I read that, and enjoyed it but I wasn’t obsessed. Then I read WS spring 2020, reread it a bunch of times, reread CO, freaked out about the cliffhanger/cool vampire stuff/unresolved sexual tension, had pandemic cabin fever, got on AO3, and the rest is history.

As @annabellelux knows, I wrote my first (published) fanfic after reading her amazing fic Drop The Game. and the first fanfic I read was @captain-aralias’ Greener Grass. I was so obsessed that about a month later, I searched through the AO3 tags for it, because I couldn’t remember the title or author but kept thinking about it.

#tag game #30 days of carry on

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halfgclden · 3 years

Audio

EPISODE 32: A MAJOR OCCURANCE

The sound of spooky intro music plays and fades out. As the microphone clicks on, faint sounds of water and traffic can be heard in the background.

JADE: Hello cryptwizzlers, cryptrackers, but never cryptormentors because we’re all friends here. Welcome to a very special episode of Cryptwins in which we are not actually researching a cryptid. But! Before you shut this off and call us hacks, we are instead researching the recent disappearance of social media fitness guru; Edison Major.

More spooky music plays. There is also the sound of fingers tapping a rhythm. It's typical Joel, unable to contain his energy as he taps the dashboard in time with their intro music.

JOEL: Weeeeeeeell...Maybe we are hacks. —a pause as he laughs— Nah, just kidding. This is the real deal. I'm not sure you're ready for this. This is some spooky, and excuse my French, spooky shit. Tell us more about this Major disappearance? —another laugh— Get it?

JADE: [A short laugh-sigh is let out at Joel’s joke.] Okay, before we begin, two things. One, get ready for the barrage of major and minor jokes, courtesy of Joel here.

JOEL: Got a whole list, be ready! He lets Jade finish, but listeners can still hear the tapping sound while she speaks.

JADE: Secondly, we’re still on the road here, so if the audio is bad or choppy... deal with it? —another small laugh— Anyyyyway. Spooky is right. This all began in September of last year, when @majored posted a picture of himself in a dark basement wearing a weird costume and then immediately went off the grid. And, you know, I’m all for a social media cleanse, people do it all the time. Buuut, what really brought this to our attention was a month later, on Halloween Eve of all nights, when a video popped up of him getting his ass kicked by someone in a Kakashi Hatake costume.

JOEL: Now, I know y'all are asking yourselves "Isn't he a fitness guru? Why was some weeb kickin' his ass?" And to that I say hey! Some weebs are strong, some are Super Saiyan, and others are Kakashi Hatake, the most talented ninja in Konohagukure.

JADE: lets out a laughing wheeze.

JOEL: We don't endorse fighting here. But I digress —a laugh— back on topic. So this guy just up and disappears out of nowhere? And there's not a peep of him until we see Kakashi givin’ him the business. What does this all mean?

JADE: Okay, so, let’s get the full story. @majored goes off the grid, comes back to get his ass kicked by a Naruto character, disappears again, comes back to spit on someone and call them a see you next Tuesday, and then disappears again. And he hasn’t come back online. So what’s up with that? Well... we did a little digging.

Another spooky noise plays over the sound of Jade organizing a stack of papers.

JOEL: Daaaaaaang. I’d say those are some fightin' words, especially from someone who keeps pulling a vanishing act, don’t ya think?

JADE: They really are! I mean, he is from New Zealand, but even so, I think you don’t use that word unless you want to attract some attention. -She clicks her tongue as she gets back on topic- The video was originally posted the night before Halloween of last year, by @ime.are on Twitter. Obviously they got a lot of hate and questions after posting this, but all of them were left unanswered. The only person in the video that was tagged was Major, but upon further examination, this Ime seems to follow and have pictures with someone who happened to be dressed as Kakashi that same night, which has led many to speculate that these ninjas are the same person.

JOEL: So we all know Halloween's a spooooky season. Perfect for parties and all that jazz. But all those costumes make it a perfect time for disguises. Was that even the real Major? Was the person who spit the real Major? Who is this Ime and how do they fit into the story? And who— a pause for dramatic effect and muffled laughter as he tries to stay serious— is this mystery ninja? Tell us more!

JADE: Alright, alright. So this mystery ninja goes by Abel, or @_kllledbycain on the Gram. At first glance, they look pretty much like every other TikTok e-boy; black and white photos, pet snake, the insinuation that they’re dead, whole nine yards.

JOEL: snorts when Jade announces their handle, and again at her eboy comment, wheezing. It's true, it's true!

JADE: And this stuff is so common right now, so nothing really raises any eyebrows, right? Right? Well, tell me, why would a Tik Tok goth go around beating the crap out of a random influencer? Stay tuned for the theory. First, we’re gonna take a step back and look at the whole situation, because, of course, it doesn’t end there.

JOEL: Ohhhh snap! I'm on the edge of my seat, and I bet our listeners are too.

JADE: [clears her throat] So if we go back to the original poster of the video, @ime.are, and we take a look at their Insta, who is on it but... @devinitely? Okay, so @devinitely is in the same place as @majored, clearly, and, for anyone that doesn’t know, she’s been doing a bunch of collabs with @loganvance. This places not one, not two, but three influencers all together in this place where weebs are running around assaulting people.

JOEL: Okay. Okay, I need to know! Where are they? What's bringing all these influencers together? Are @devinitely and @loganvance part of something much more sinister than it seems? [He makes a funny face at Jade and wiggles his fingers, before dropping his voice to a stage-whisper.] Is it some kind of twisted influencer cult?

JADE: Shhhh, Joel, spoilers.

JOEL: [He laughs.] Sorry, sorry!

JADE: [muffled laughter over the sound of more papers rustling.] So, any skeptics out there might say, oh, well, this Ime Are is just a lucky person who happens to be in the presence of more than one social media personality. However, Devin follows the weeb that may or may not have kicked Major's ass. And, according to a cast photo of Rocky Horror, on her boyfriend's Instagram, both the weeb in question and the hot man that tore the two apart were part of the cast. This would be a great time to mention that a link to the video is in the description, as are all the pictures from social media that I'm referencing.

JOEL: [to Jade but loud enough for the mic to pick it up at regular volume] Oh snap, you got everything together in a link? Like, I could click the link to check it out right now? — A pause as he does just that.— Woah, cryptwizzlers, she's not kidding. Click the link in bio, you won't be disappointed. Okay, Jade...hear me out. Given that it was Halloween, the night of nights. Do you think that...maybe it was all an elaborate event? Was it staged? Is any of this real?

JADE: Oh, my dear brother, always the skeptic. Don’t you think that it’s a bit much for him to stop posting entirely in order to get publicity? And we mustn’t forget the spitting on someone in South Dakota, that’s not exactly his brand. Unless he’s trying out something like Taylor Swift and Reputation but... I digress. No, I don’t think any of this is staged, and I’ll tell you why. Let’s go back to the weird cow print basement post. You know who also happened to post something about some cowboy party? Oh, um, Devin’s boyfriend? A picture of him, Devin, and Logan? Which... puts them and Major in the same place on the night that he disappeared.

JOEL: Not a skeptic! Just trying to get all these questions answered. —A laugh— You're right, that's 180 from the online presence he used to have. All theories aside, —a pause— I'd love to go to a cowboy party. Get me a glow-in-the-dark cowboy hat. You know they make 'em. —He laughs again, mouthing 'what?' to Jade.—

JADE: Oh, def. We're getting matching hats. Check out our merch in a few weeks —she laughs— Glow in the dark mothman themed cowboy hats, talk about a niche.

JOEL: Snap, we have to do that now, 'cause I want one real bad. But okay, back on track. This cowboy party. The origin of this theory, yeah? Oh snap...what were those three doing in the same place as Major? And all in cow print too? That's....majorly suspicious! [He trails off into laughter, his voice doing that wheezy thing when someone's trying to finish their sentence before cracking up. Recovering, he adds the following.] Wait, wait, wait. What about—

JADE: Yes, yes, yes. —she cuts Joel off as though he's finished his sentence, chuckling at his joke— Patience, my dear twin, we will get there. —the smile is evident in her voice—

JOEL: I feel like somehow, I ended up as your Padawan for this episode. — he laughs—

JADE: You heard it here, I'm absolutely schooling Joel this episode. — she laughs— First, we're going to backtrack all the way to the original poster again. You know we snooped their whole page, and they're pretty regularly posting pictures with this person, @rengaaay, who isn't an influencer but she makes some of those sick ass roller skating videos... this isn't sus, just cool, link in the description. —a slight pause as she tries to get back to her train of thought— Anyway, what is sus is that she tags two people in her photos all the time... But no joke guys check out their Insta profiles they look different in like every other picture. Which, uh, could just be editing but also could be something.... more sinister? Hold onto that thought.

JOEL: That's such a good handle, dang! Better than @lumberjoel, honestly. I have to say I'm jelly. We should get branded rollerskates, maybe @rengaaay can advertise for us if we ship them. JK...unless? —more laughter as he waits for Jade to get back on the train and pulls up the profiles in question to take a look for himself— Huh...is it editing? Are they masters of disguise? Makeup professionals? —He starts to say something else but is pretty sure he's figured out where Jade's going with this.— What could be more sinister than human chameleons?

JADE: [The sound of papers shuffling can be heard] Oh, yeah, so, it's weird but I think every time the siblings are in a pic together they look more like each other? I dunno if this really makes sense but seriously dudes check the post with this episode because it has a bunch of photos side by side and... yeah. You pull a photo of them by themself and it's like okay, I know what this dude looks like and then you put them side by side and... I dunno, makeup? Contacts? Cloning, mayhaps? And, just so that I'm not just holding on to one thing too much... check their post from August 12th, linked below. Their brother... doesn't have a shadow. Why would you edit that out of a photo? No way are they going that hard to be memelords.

JOEL: Okay, let me look at this. Wha— That's weird as hell. How much hair dye do these two use? Hm. Could be clones? —snaps his fingers—Definitely clones. —he snorts loudly, laughing before clearing his throat— Ahem, uh. No shadow? That's dedication! I dunno, maybe it's some new challenge for the 'gram. Oh...but wait. I found a video. Look, Jade. No shadow. In a video. What the—

JADE: A video, guys. —A moment of muffled laughter before her mic cuts out, but the sound of it clicking on again is followed almost immediately— This is a big family, guys, and a big weird one because their other brother @sleepyfinch... Okay, wait, he himself is pretty normal, super cute, shout out, but guys, ghouls, you know who he has tagged in a recent post? Yet another influencer. Except this one is from Italy? @gaborealis; essentially, he’s a medium, so if you didn’t believe that the supernatural were at play beforehand... buckle up.

JOEL: Wait, wait, I'm still on the video thing. Who has time to edit a video? —his voice cracks when he says video and he covers his laughter as he focuses—

JADE: [wheezing] Shut up —there is no malice in her voice, and she’s laughing too.—

JOEL: So weird, I love it. Oh snap— the @gaborealis? It's time to get ghosty! —echoes "ghosty" and hums the Cha Cha Slide tune for a couple seconds— Okay, so wait. Does this mean everyone's favorite medium is also in the same place as...three? Three other influencers and this weird family of....maybe shapeshifters? No? Too crazy a theory?

JADE: You know what they say, cryptoddlers; no theory is too crazy. Everything Einstein came up with? Theory.

JOEL: Bringing Einstein into it, huh?

JADE: Oh you know it. —a snort— Anyway, according to Devin’s boyfriend’s Instagram, it doesn’t end there. @spencerkeahi, a youtuber and disability rights advocate who comes from Hawaii is also there with that gaggle. Shout out to @elidrising for tagging people and location. So what are these influencers from all corners of the globe gathering together for? Well, let’s take a look at the original poster again. You go on their Twitter, and a few months back it’s all just videos of people... fighting? In some sort of underground place. Mayhaps... the same creepy basement that Major posted his last photo? —a small gasp, as though she’s surprised by this— No, that must be a coincidence... or is it?

Another spooky sound plays

JOEL: @elidrising is the man, dang! Are you tellin' me there's a...—he lowers his voice to a whisper— secret influencers-only Fight Club? I wouldn't put it past @devinitely TBH. Honestly, I'd join one...even though I guess I've broken the first rule but talking about it, huh? Actually— Jay, do you think we'd even be allowed to join? Are podcasters influencers? Poll in my story right now, let us know what y'all think.

JADE: Right now? Joel, this isn’t going up for another week, at least. —She’s obviously trying to sound less amused than she’s coming off— Once we get the blue check we’re influencers, so we’ve got a few million followers to go, I think.

JOEL: Yeah, right now! They'll hear that when the episode goes up and respond in real ti— Oh, no. You're right. Oops. No poll in my story, y'all. False alarm. Blue check, huh? You heard it here, cryptwizzlers, we're gonna get that blue check. Tell your friends, tell your family. Heck, tell that cute barista at your coffee shop to listen to our podcast! We might just do a giveaway when we get that lil' blue swoosh.

JADE: [clears her throat.] You know what’s a great way to get us that blue check, though?

A different, light sort of spooky music begins playing in the background, meaning that it’s time for the ad break

JOEL: Take it away!

JADE: Checking out a little app called Creature Comforts. Alright guys, not that this show isn’t one hundred percent real as it is, but for real, I love this app. A dating sim that features everyone’s favorite... for lack of a better term, monsters. Did you watch the Shape of Water and go, “Damn, I’d tap that”? Do you want to snuggle with a Sasquatch? Do you just wish you could find yourself a GF with more eyes? Well, have we got the app for you. Creature Comforts lets you do all this and more. A choose-your-own-adventure game where you can smooch beasts, marry Mothman, and ignore the outside world. It’s seriously all I want. And, if you enter the code cryptwins— that’s the name of the podcast you’re listening to, no capital letters, when you download the app, then it’s only 99 cents to play without ads. Which, trust me ghouls, is worth it. I don’t want anything interrupting my cut scene with the most stunning eyes in West Virginia.

JOEL: Don't forget that scuba diving date with Nessie! Or, or...that half-day hike with Bigfoot. —he's laughing again smh— There's a reason Jade does the ad reads and not me. But, I can tell you that Mothman is sure to sweep you off your feet. And it's not just because he can fly.

JADE: It’s the —a pause for finger snapping— alliteration for me. But that’s Creature Comforts, exactly how you think you’d spell it, don’t ask us ‘cause we’re dyslexic, and cryptwins, like the name of this podcast. Tweet us @cryptwins to let us know how far along you are, who you’re pursuing, and what mysteries you unlock about their backstories. Now... I think it’s time for a timeline, just to get us sorted out, what do you think, Joel?

JOEL: Personally, I'm still tryin' to land a date with the Creature from the Black Lagoon. I guess we'll see what happens. Aw heck yeah! Give us a timeline, give us the dirt. — a laugh — Give the people what they want!

JADE: Okay — the shuffling of paper is heard once more — We start in September: @majored goes off the grid after posting a creepy picture of himself in a weird outfit in a spooky basement. This is around the same time that the Scarlet Surfer was in NYC for fashion week, which @majored accompanied him to, meaning that it isn’t entirely out of the question for him to still be in New York. Also on social media at this time is @devinitely and @loganvance also both is cowboy outfits, though the creepy basement is absent from both of them.

JOEL: I guess September isn't too early for weird Halloween stuff to start? What with the spooky basement and everything. Right? And everyone loves a cowboy moment— or have cowboys become the new clown? I heard there was a clown renaissance and people like them now? I don't really know where we stand on the whole clown— what?

JADE: I see our next hot debate. Cowboys: Hot or not? Personally, I liked cow print, but I can see cowboys going out soon. Once they reach killer clown status is when it’ll be ideal for me.

JOEL: Personally, I vote hot. And uhhh, not to kinkshame you Jay, but killer clowns are a no from me.

JADE: [tsks] Kinkshamed, by my own brother no less.

JOEL: [a loud laugh] You know I'm just kidding. No kinkshaking, ya heard? I'd literally let the Jersey Devil step on me so. To each their own.

JADE: [snorting] Um, gross.

JADE: Now to October: There is a production of Rocky Horror, a cast photo is uploaded to @elidrising, the account of @devinitely’s boyfriend. This places not only @devinitely and @loganvance in Montauk, but it also places @crispyboiz and @_kllledbycain in Montauk too. These are two of the people that are suspected to belong in the video by @ime.are, in which (suspected) @_kllledbycain, dressed as Kakashi Hatake attacked @majored, only to be torn apart by good citizen @crispyboiz. This video is the first that we’ve seen of @majored since his last post, and he offers nothing in response to it.

JOEL: Okay. Okay. Now, you know I love a good shadow-cast of Rocky Horror. I've always wanted to play Frank. I would rock that part. Am I wrong? —he laughs— But okay, that's - count 'em - three influencers in one place? If @elidrising is there, we can assume @devinitely is too because she was in the same location as, uh, whatshername? Logan? And that's the same location as @ime.are. Who took the video of Kakashi kicking @majored's ass. @_kllledbycain— more like killedbyKakashi, eh? Seriously why are all these people together?

JOEL: [as an afterthought] It's gotta be a cult.

JADE: November to December: Nothing happens with @majored, @ime.are also offers nothing except for quote unquote “#teamkakashi”, which is funny because they never tagged Kakashi, but anyways. Upon deeper inspection, there are videos on their Twitter from last May, of people in a fighting ring. And then people fighting on a lake? But the fighting ring looks super dangerous and I dunno, like you said, cult-y? Fight-club-y? Call it what you will. In any case, we are led to believe that this fighting has been going on for some time in the background.

JOEL: Okay, come on. That’s definitely a cult. I’ve seen the movie, can confirm. — he groans— Literally what is an Italian astrologer doing there? Wait, wait, wait. Montauk? You said Montauk. Montauk, as in on Long Island. As in like —he drops his voice to a stage-whisper— the part of Long Island that peeps believe to be the site of a government cover-up involving kidnapping, mind control, and time travel? The part that inspired Stranger Things? That Montauk? Snap. I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together sooner. Jade, Jade. What if this is, I don’t know, like, MKUltra 2.0?

JADE: Yes, yes that Montauk, I’m glad you picked up on that. Look, I’m not saying that it’s an influencer’s-only thing, but I am saying that some might be in the area, and maybe involved. At the same time throughout all of this, we have a culmination of more influencers seeming to know this network of people. @gaborealis, an Italian astrologer, is seen in pictures of @sleepyfinch, who was also in the production of Rocky Horror, and has pictures with @crispyboiz and, god, this name is a freaking nightmare, @_kllledbycain. Not to mention this guy has many pictures of weird… family members? Who sometimes look alike? Okay, but seriously, @kodakola and @sonofpeter, how is your hair not straw at this point? Is it wigs? I think my hair would simply fall out. And y’all using Insta filters or what, cause… I’m not gonna get into it, let’s keep going.

JOEL: Maybe they're makeup vloggers or something. Gotta change up the look for views, right? Don't forget to like, comment, subscribe and uhhhh, smash that follow button— or whatever YouTubers say. —he laughs— Okay but seriously, yeah. @sonofpeter, @kodakola, whatever you two are doing to your hair, let me know because I'm trying to bleach my hair and dye it bright purple without it falling out. And since we're doing it at our next stop, well, your advice will probably be too late. But still, what are your secrets? Is it...clones?

JADE: Joel! —she’s laughing again.— Timeline and then theories. —she clears her throat— After that long silence, a Tweet emerges. January 8th. "Can’t believe @majored SPAT on me and called me a C-Blank-Blank-T when he checked into @SDFamilyMotel last night”. This places Major across the country from where we believed him to be, but acting so strangely that one must wonder… was that really him? Or was it someone that just looked like him? Or was it a cry for help? Nothing’s been heard since from @majored, which I guess… leads us to our theories. —a pause— You were saying… clones, Joel?

JOEL: Sheeeeesh, this is not @majored's year. I gotta say, this sounds totally different from the vibe that this guy used to put out on his social media. Obviously Instagram is fake blah blah blah, you know the spiel, but like. Damn. He spit on them? —a pause as he considers what his sibling has said— You know....I think that's a really good point. Was that even the real him? Will the real Ed Major please stand up?

JADE: I know. It just seems out of character, and terrible for a reputation, but it also would make sense if... One, this is a fake @majored, meant to stir up controversy before he goes underground again. And with an action like spitting on someone and calling them a name like that? Who cares what the dude does after that? Unfollowed, cancelled, whatever. And why would this guy want to go underground, well, I'm glad you're so interested. Well, the official Cryptwins theory is that maybe... just maybe, the crazy, government cover-up Montauk that we all know and love isn't that far from truth. We see that they have means of covering up shadows —she lets out a laugh— and people whose faces just change? And who else is there, @spencerkeahi, someone who explains rehabilitation, maybe someone who has experience helping people get used to being a clone? @ime.are, a nurse who enjoys taking videos of people fighting? It all adds up, people!

JOEL: Yeah, seriously. With the real @majored MIA, there would be no one to combat the backlash from this supposed...clone? Imposter? And maybe that’s what they want. Looks like Montauk isn’t the ideal vacation spot anymore, huh? Even if their seaside cabins are super chill and homey. But I digress. Something sinister is going on. Something bigger than we can even imagine. A secret underground facility that’s...cloning influencers? Training them? Your guess is as good as mine. And that’s why we’re on this road trip, isn’t that right Jade? To get some answers?

JADE: Exactly. —it sounds as though she is holding back a laugh or a cough.— Cross country roadtrip in which we explore different topics like this one, and on the way, we'll document our progress and any spooky encounters. Check out our insta, @cryptwins to get all the updates, and consider hitting us up on Patreon if you want us to be able to afford the gas to get all the way to the east coast.

JOEL: I’ll be posting behind the scenes content in the “ROADTRIP” highlight on my Insta throughout the trip so be sure to check my stories. You might get lucky and find some special codes for Creature Comforts but, hey. You didn’t hear it from me. -he laughs and there’s the distinct sound of a bag of chips being opened- What Jade meant to say is gas and snack money. So yeah, go go go! Check out the Patreon! We might even do a giveaway at the end of our trip, get you guys some cool souvenirs we pick up on our travels. Not a bad idea, eh?

JADE: Joel, my ears are literally bleeding right now. Thanks. Anyway, our second theory will also be exclusive to our Patrons, so be sure to get the full video there. Cryptwins... out...

Her voice fades out and the music from the beginning fades in, takes over, and plays until the end of the track.

#c: jade #c: jadejoel #a major occurance

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 13

Merry Chrismukkah or whatever you celebrate, or just happy Saturday if that’s what floats your boat. Shawn is still dumb. Perhaps dumber. But these are my babies and they deserve the best. Just keep that in mind okay? K bye.

*Shawn’s point of view*

The New Year was a wonderful way for very rich people to throw very elaborate parties to tell people how rich they were. In his early twenties, he’s been roped in by the booze and the women and the occasional party drug or two. Something about twenty-four made him crave the serenity of naps, staying in, and home cooked meals. It could have been the maturity of growing up, sure, but he wasn’t exactly that naive. All he had to do was wake up wrapped around her to know that the only thrill he was going to get was by being with her. Y/n was the least industry, industry person he’d ever met. So, when she told him she had no plans to attend not one even one of the many she’d been invited to, he wasn’t disappointed in the slightest. He was happy to stay in. Or so he thought.

They were going to see a movie at this theatre in Manhattan that always showed the upcoming independent films of the year before they ever made it to the indie film festival. He really liked indie films, so y/n bought them tickets for a matinee showing. While y/n was in the shower getting ready his phone began to buzz and he was left without a choice but to answer it for one specific reason. It was his father. Or the Devil. Semantics.

“Yes, dad?” He sighed.

“Your mother is flying in for our annual New Years Eve party. I need you to get her here on time, and make sure she takes the uppers and not the downers this time.”

“Dad, Mom hasn’t been on pills since 2014. Remember the whole rehab thing?” He huffed. “And I’m absolutely not coming to that thing this year.”

“You absolutely the fuck are. The entire senior management team will be here, and I won’t have you make me look bad because you insist on being a child. You’re coming and you’re bringing your mother.”

His hands turned to fists and he pulled the phone away from his mouth just long enough to curse his father back to hell for once.

“I already have plans, dad!”

“Cancel them! The party starts at nine, I expect you and your mother here by ten at the latest. Put on a suit for Christ’s sake too, none of that skinny jean bullshit.”

His dad hangs up without another world and he collapsed back onto the bed to question how he had managed to be conceived by one of the worst people ever. Really, what were the chances?

“Baby do you wanna do chinese for dinner after the movies?” y/n called from the bathroom.

And that’s when he began to cry.

“Boy, what in the hell is the matter with you now?”

He uncovered his arm from his face to see her standing at the entryway to the bathroom wrapped in a towel and looking as soft as cocoa butter. He really wanted to cry.

“You know the crime shows where the kids kill the parents and you’re like, holy shit that’s fucked up? Well I’m starting to sympathize with ‘em.”

“Sorry, that’s a little too close to white nonsense for me. Why, what happened?”

She stepped over to where he was on the bed and he sat up to fall a little pathetically into her arms. She smelled like flowers and that whole cocoa butter business he was thinking of earlier. Jesus, life was so unfair.

“My dad is making me pick up my mother and go to this stupid fucking new year’s eve party so he can pretend that they haven’t not lived together since before I graduated high school. No options. I’m going.” He reported glumly.

Her fingers were cool from having dried after the shower and she ran them soothingly through his scalp. He nestled himself more firmly against her and tried not to purr too loudly.

“Hmm, well that sucks. I guess there go our plans huh?”

He peered up at her, chin resting against her chest.

“Absolutely not. We’re gonna go see our movie and then we’ll...just go drink my dad’s booze and maybe find a janitor’s closet to fool around in.” He shrugged.

She snorted. “How romantic. I told you I’m not taking my underwear off in a janitor’s closet ever again, Shawn.”

“Who said you had to? I can get creative, baby.” He grinned.

“Of course you can. I think you’re forgetting the part where your dad doesn’t know we’re together.”

“Oh hell, who cares y/n. I’m not going without you. Why would I spend new year’s without my girlfriend?”

“Because...Manny is Satan and would try to ruin my career?”

“Hey, he wouldn’t. Y/n, I swear he wouldn’t do that to you.”

She smiled down at him sadly and scratched at his scalp again.

“I don’t really think you could make that promise, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’m not mad about it. I understand.”

“But I don’t! I want to spend the day with you, not at some dumb party! I had a whole plan about us making love in my bed with the curtains open while the fireworks went on, dammit. I hate him!”

Her chest began to shake and he realized that she was indeed laughing at him. There’s no love in this world.

“This isn’t funny.” He whined.

“It’s a little funny.”

No. Love.

***

“Hmm you look good enough to eat.” She murmured from behind him.

Her arms came to wrap around his waist and she reached up on the tips of her toes to rest her chin on his shoulder as he adjusted his suit. He could not have been less excited.

“Good enough to eat, not good enough to keep me home, aye?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are about as dramatic as they come you know that? I’m trying to keep the peace. Now you just make sure nobody touches what’s mine and you bring your ass home right after that ball drops.”

He turned in her grasp, pulling her more tightly against him. She was in nothing but his sweatshirt and a pair of underwear that surely would make him drool if he stared long enough. He loved her.

“What was it again that’s yours? I just wanna make sure I have all my bases covered when I inevitably get hit on.” He smirked.

She reached quickly for his jaw and tugged him forward so she could kiss him with dominance and love. Why in the entire hell was he going to this party?

“All of it.” She whispered eyes lifting up and down to drink him in. “You call me if you need a reminder.”

He nodded dumbly, lips parted and ready to drool.

“Yea. Okay.”

Leaving her is nearly impossible, especially knowing that he won’t have an ounce of fun the rest of the night. His mum is half way to sloppy drunk by the time he arrives to pick her up and the party's at stifling capacity by the time they arrive. But as long as his dad is happy that’s apparently all that matters. It’s all that ever matters.

“Look you just stand against this wall and I’ll go get you something with bubbles in it.”

His mum only giggled and leaned harder against the wall.

“Okay!”

He goes to the bar and gets her some cranberry juice mixed with soda water. She was drunk enough that it wouldn’t matter, and he was hopeful that by the end of the night she might sober enough for him to get her back to her hotel without incident. By the time he returns from the bar, he sees his dad wrapping his arm possessively around his mother. He starts talking to some old guy in a hat that isn’t doing enough to cover his balding head, and it’s about as sickening as can be. The worst part is that his mum completely plays into it. Her head rests on his shoulder. Her fingers play with his hair. They play the happy couple so well, it almost has him fooled. Almost.

There used to be a day when he would have tried to defend her honor, a day when he thought he was strong enough to fight his dad. He’d gotten knocked on his ass enough times to know that was simply not the case. And that’s how he ended up hiding in a corner with a double scotch texting his girlfriend while everyone around him looked like complete and total jackasses.

Shawn: I miss you. This is dumb. My dad is literally the worst.

y/n: You are so cute when you complain like a sixteen year old.

Shawn: I am delicate, y/n. You cannot be mean to me in my current state.

y/n: You poor, poor thing. What can I do to make it better?

Shawn: Rescue me?

y/n: We’ll see. Go place nice with the fragile men who never lived up their father’s visions for them.

Shawn: I think I’d rather die.

The party really is dead. It’s all the people who kiss his dad’s ass on a daily basis. Most of them were in their fifties or older. It wasn’t even the artists themselves, just the people who made money off of them. If he didn’t know any better he’d say it was his dad’s way of fundraising for investors. And he definitely knew better.

He’s sitting at the bar counting down the minutes until he gets to go home. It’s maybe thirty minutes until the ball drops, and everyone around him is hammered to pieces. He hasn’t seen his dad since he got there, and his mum was probably being dragged around by that asshole as nothing more than a trophy piece. God he wanted to go home. And then the elevator doors opened.

She’s wearing the dress that he bought her after he accidently ripped the other one. It’s black and sleek with a thigh slit that has his lips parting even now. Her hair is tied sleekly up in a bun and the second she steps into the room the entire atmosphere shifts. She’s gorgeous. Every inch of her. They lock eyes from across the room and he just knows that he’s beaming, couldn’t stop it even if he wanted. She’s here for him and no one else, and that means the world to him. She means the world to him.

He orders her her go-to drink and goes to find his girlfriend only to find that she’s already been stopped. It’s one of the guys from his dad’s team. He’s on the younger side, maybe in his early thirties, probably drives an eco friendly car or something. He’s dumb is the point. Dumb. And ugly. And stupid. And talking to his girlfriend.

“You look beautiful tonight. I didn’t expect to see you here. You and Manny don’t really get along.”

She giggled. Why was she giggling?

“That’s certainly one way to put it. But a good old-fashioned rivalry never hurt anyone, did it? Especially not when I win.” She grinned.

“You know…I find that kind of confidence in a woman to be incredibly sexy.”

Her eyes widened and he leaned in to place a hand on her waist. He made sure to step between them before it got that far.

“Vodka cran right?” He interjected pulling her not so subtly against him.

She rolled her eyes but smiled up at him.

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Who are you chatting with?”

“Shawn it’s Mike. We--We work together?”

He placed his hand on her lower back barely sparing him a glance as he led her away.

“Oh yea. Enjoy the party Mike!”

“You are not subtle in the slightest you know that?” She laughed.

“Yea, whatever. Only person who get’s to call my baby sexy is me, dammit.”

“I find your possessiveness to be both sexist and oddly stimulating. I will combat my feminist guide and get back to you.”

He snorted. “While you’re at it can you ask the feminist guide what it has to say about your whole, ‘it’s all mine’, shtick?”

“Hmm...you may have a point.”

He leads her onto the dance floor. Dancing is innocent. It can mean anything, and isn’t inherently tied to being in a relationship, so it acts as a safe space for the two of them. The party was too large for him to place eyes on his dad, so he had to just believe that they could occupy space together and be okay. No kissing. No waist touching. Certainly no ass touching. He really had to just hold onto his drink and soak her in. The good news is that soaking her in is better than not having her there at all. So he holds tight to the idea that he could have her there with him.

“You came here for me.” He murmured in her ear. “Why?”

She shrugs her shoulders and shimmies her hips to the beat of a Khalid song, ironically.

“You asked me to.”

“I know but...what about my dad?”

“Your dad is...always going to exist. No matter how long we’re together. If I let him stop me from enjoying New Year’s with you than I’m giving him power over our relationship. He doesn’t get to have that. Only we have that.”

It’s another one of those moments where if he looked back on his life, he could have identified it as a shift in their dynamic. This was y/n pulling down the final brick in the wall. She had chosen him fully and irrevocably in such a way that she was willing to go all in. His dad no longer matter mattered. Nothing really seemed to matter. Because they loved each other, and as long as they loved each other everything else would work out at some point. He had always been hers, but now he got to be her’s in broad daylight. Well, kind of.

They find a corner to shove themselves into away from the crowd. She crosses her legs and shows off more thigh than anyone has the right too, which reminds him that he hasn’t kissed her in hours. And so he sneaks a kiss on her cheek and hides his face in her neck, because he just wants to go home. He really wants to go home.

“I can’t touch you here.” He mumbled. “This is basically my own version of hell.”

She sighed. “Yea, I know. Usually your horniness is excessive, but this party is drier than Milania Trump’s pussy. Sheesh.”

He laughs because she’s funny and it makes him feel lighter, happier. He still doesn’t know how she does it.

“My dad is somewhere showing my mum off like she’s a thing and not a person. To him everything is a commodity, something for him to own and do with what he pleases.” He mumbled reaching for her hand. “I just want you to know that you could never be that for me. I would never, ever treat you like that.”

She smiled softly at him.

“I know. You’ve never treated me with anything but kindness, Shawn. You’re not your dad.”

He nodded. “See I know that, and yet still it feels good to be reminded sometimes.”

“You just let me know whenever you need reminding then.”

“Mkay. I will.”

“Shawn.”

The two of them looked up as his father ascended with his mother hanging onto him, eyes barely open. Y/n moved as far away from him as physically possible. He had to hide his face to pretend it didn’t hurt. It did hurt.

“What now?” He grumbled.

“Your mother is incompacitated. Take her home. Now.”

He stands up immediately, y/n remaining seated in her chair. She played coy incredibly well, bringing her drink to her lips and settling back deeper into her chair.

“Y/n,” Manny dipped his head. “So glad you could make it to our little suarey. Are you enjoying yourself?”

She smiled. “You know I was. I think I enjoyed myself so much that I’m gonna have to take a very long nap to deal with all the excitement.”

He catches the thinly veiled anger on his father’s face at Y/n taking the piss out of him as he reaches for his mum. She was in worse condition than he left her in, her eyes barely remaining open.

“Jesus, dad what did you do to her?” He hissed.

“She’s a grown ass woman fully capable of making her own decisions. Now get her out of here before she embarasses me further.”

“I do really enjoy the playful family banter. It’s sweet.” Y/n interjected. “And not incredibly cliche at all.”

He looked at her with pleading eyes to not make his father any angrier than he already was. If the look on his face was anything to go off though, his father wasn’t ever going to be happy when y/n was present. Manny sent y/n a scathing look before grumbling off to be with the rest of the crowd. His mum on the other hand was practically snoring on his shoulder. He hated the holidays.

“Looks like I’m gonna miss the ball drop. I gotta get her home.” He sighed.

“It’s okay. We can ring in the new year when you get back, okay?”

“Promise?”

She smiled up at him. “Promise.”

“K. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Neither of them noticed Manny watching them from the bar. Nor had they noticed the way he had watched them the entire night. In fact as Shawn was pulling his mother towards the elevator, Manny was calling for the party planner for the event that night.

“Can you look up a name on the guest list for me?” He asked.

“Of course, sir.”

“y/f/n y/l/n. She on there?”

The party planner flicked through the list twice before shaking her head at Manny.

“No sir, I never sent any invitation to a y/f/n y/l/n.”

Manny looked back over at the couch where y/n and Shawn had been sitting. She was already gone.

“Yea, that’s what I thought.”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

The fact that Shawn becomes a regular at Lenny’s Tavern is only a testament to his love for music. He went every Friday it seemed, to the point where he turned out to be a celebrity of the pub. It was his place of joy. You never saw him smile harder then when he was up there with a guitar in his hands. It was a blend of covers and originals, and when he’s up there getting the entire crowd to scream sing “Hit Me Baby One More Time”, you know that there’s something special there. He knows how to command a room, at first with his presence, but now with his talent. Something that could take years to teach an artist, Shawn was sitting there with it by the boatload. And so every night is a little bittersweet, because you know Manny and you know if he has his way Shawn will never get anything more. But, the smile on his face every time he asks you to go is enough to have you taking the forty minute drive out the city on Fridays.

He jumps down from the stage to ravenous applause. The smile and the light in his eye is exceptional. You watch him get stopped by a few women, an increasing occurrence at Lenny’s Tavern, who asked to take a selfie with him. The smile that he puts on for them is more calculated, more mass sex appeal. Honestly, he was a music exec’s wet dream. And not because he’s good at it, but because he does it with this sort of authentic happiness that no amount of money can buy. He’s just got it.

“Did you like it babe? I tried the falsetto on the ‘suit and tie’ cover just like you said.” He beamed at you.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his nose.

“You sounded amazing. Just like you always do. My baby’s kind of a star.” You grinned.

“Yea, only because of you. Can you imagine my life if you’d been my manager instead of my dick of a dad?”

“You’d be wildly sucessful for sure...But I don’t fuck my clients so…”

He frowned. “Then let’s just stick with this reality, aye?”

“Sounds good to me. Let’s go get me a drink.”

He trailed you to the bar, his hands playfully on your ass and hips. His unwillingness to quit touching you was much appreciated in just about every instance of your lives together. Why go through life not being touched by your significant other? It just didn’t make sense.

“Hey Shawn!” Ronnie, the owner of the bar, called.

“Hey Ronnie, man, what’d you think of the set?”

“It was amazing! You’re always amazing, you pretty bastard, and you know it.”

You peered up at your boyfriend as you took a sip of your drink. His cheekbones were more sculpted than yours and perfectly flushed. His curls were like the swirl of an ice cream cone off pinterest. The fucker really was pretty. Rude.

“Hey, it’s just an honor to get up there man.”

“Really? Cause see I had one of my buddies from Atlantic come see your set and he asked me to give you his card, but if it’s all about the honor then…”

“What?!” Shawn and you screeched in unison.

Ronnie stared at the two of you with a big grin on his face.

“Yea! Same way I got our little Niall to where he’s at. When the sets are good, they come to check out the talent man. And you’re better than good. Here.”

Shawn took the card and stared down at it. You could see the fear, but also the light in his eyes. It was about as tragic as can be.

“No man, I--I can’t take this.” He mumbled handing the card back to Ronnie.

Ronnie refused it.

“Keep it. You deserve it man!” He exclaimed before walking away.

Shawn turned to you with wide eyes and a terrified look on his face that had you reaching to wrap his giant frame up in your arms.

“It’s okay. Hey, don’t stress yourself out. Just don’t call the number.”

“But my dad does so much work with Atlantic. Like five of his artists are co-signed through them. What if he finds out somehow?”

You shook your head. “He won’t cause you’re not going to call...unless that’s what you want.”

“Huh?”

You ran your hands up his arms and over his shoulders trying to quell some of the tension.

“Look I’m just saying that, yea you signed with your dad when you were fifteen but that contract expired the moment you became an adult. That’s probably why he asked you to work for the company the moment you turned eighteen, so that he could retain this hold he has over you.”

He frowned at you. “But...but my music.”

“I know baby. You made a lot of music that means a lot to you, and I want nothing more than for you to have ownice of it. All I’m saying is that if you can’t get the music back, that doesn’t mean you can never create again. It doesn’t even mean you can’t make music for a living. Any label would kill to sign you. I know because I’d be right there fighting with ‘em.”

He released this big breath, face twitching with anxiety. You could tell it was getting to him, that the moment was becoming too much. You didn’t really know how to ease him into it anymore than you already had.

“I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. I wanna go home.” He mumbled, face red.

“Okay, I can be okay with that. Let’s go home.”

“Can we go to your place?” He asked head dipping down closer to yours.

You smiled. “Of course.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

Everything makes sense when they’re making love. It’s something about the way she tastes, or maybe is the vibrations of her moans against his mouth when he kisses her throat. His head is never more clear than when she’s in his arms. He loves her. God does he love her. He wants her to have everything, all of him, infinitely. So that’s what she gets.

“Fuck! Oh my god!” She sobbed.

“You gonna cum for me?” He asks reaching to stroke her clit with his thumb.

She nodded recklessly her stomach tensing, thighs trembling.

“Please. Shawn, I need it so bad.”

He flips her onto her back, hand wrapping around the top of her head for leverage as he lays into her. Her body shakes for him and she claws at his back so hard there will be welts later. But it’s her pleasure. It’s the only thing in the world that matters to him when they’re in this space together. So he keeps moving, keeps moaning, keeps holding on for every second that he can if it means she’ll stare at him like he just blew her mind. He always wants to blow her mind. And she bursts for him like an overripe fruit in the summer heat, and he makes sure that he’s right there to slurp it up for her.

“I love you.” He groaned into her ear. “I love you so much.”

The doorbell ringing is literally the last thing in the world that he wants to hear. She’s still panting against his neck and he’s just supposed to get out of bed?

“Let it ring.” She mumbled lips tracing his nipple.

“Oh. My. God, woman.”

She giggled and the result was something so cute and soft on her face that he could feel his exhausted body peak in interest. The line between whether to dominate and whether to cuddle deeply into the sheets got more blurred by the second with her.

The doorbell rings again.

“Jesus Christ.” He muttered.

“Fuck...look just go answer it. I have to get ready for work soon anyway.”

He immediately began to pout.

“But baby...I didn’t finish my moves.” He whined.

She snorted. “You finished just fine for me, dear. Go get the door.”

He does what she asks. But not without whining the entire time dammit. She puts on his Jimi Hendrix t-shirt and walks off to his kitchen without underwear or a bra. Whoever was at the door probably deserved to die. He didn’t make the rules.

“This better be good!”

He yanked open the door to see his dad standing there with two starbucks cups in his hands and the grin of Satan.

“Dad.” He mumbled. “What--what the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s time to talk to son.” He smiled making his way past him to get into his apartment.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Look now really isn’t the time!”

“On the contrary, I don’t think there could be a better time. Ah! Good morning y/n!”

Sure enough there she stood in the middle of the room where the living room met the kitchen with a pan in her hand and the fear of god in her eyes.

“Y/n my...dad is here.” He stated glumly.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’d managed to catch on, Shawn.”

“As much as I do enjoy watching the two of you prance around with no pants on, I think it’s time to get dressed. Shawn and I have some things to discuss. Take your time. I’ll wait.”

The room is dead silent. Y/n is looking at him like she’s contemplating hitting his dad over the head with the pan. Honestly, it’s not the worst visual he could come up with. Instead they walk side by side back to his bedroom. His hands are shaking and he tugs anxiously at his hair as he watches her get dressed. It’s impossible for him to wrap his head around this moment. Ten minutes ago they were making love, and now his dad knows about them. Just like that.

She tugs her shoes on and reaches for her keys and his heart spasms painfully in his chest. He’s got no choice but to reach for her.

“Hey,” He whispered hands still shaking as he gripped her waist. “I--I don’t know what’s going on right now. I’m freaking out y/n.”

She nodded. “Me too. It’s gonna be okay though. Just come to my place when it’s over. Whatever it is, we can work through it, y’know? That’s what we do.”

“I love you. More than anything. You know that right?”

She smiled at him sadly and ran her fingers through his hair to scratch at his scalp. It was the most calming gesture he could think of.

“I know. And I love you too. It’ll be okay. I wish I could be here with you in this, I do. But we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

He nodded solemnly letting his shoulders drop as she released him.

“Yea, okay.”

The last image he gets of her is when she walks through his front door without looking back. Her head was high, shoulders back, a lot like the first night he met her. Only now he knew better. Now he knew it was a part of her no doubt, but a constructed one too. With the presence of his dad, she suddenly needed to be a version of herself that no one could touch. Not even him. And so the last good image he gets of her is a version of her that’s not his, not hers. It exists outside of everything that they’ve become together in the months of their love. It’s a protective shell put up to hide. That’s the last image he gets.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

He doesn’t come over. And he doesn’t call. At first you thought maybe something happened. Maybe Manny shipped him off to Novasokia or some shit. But a woman left to sit in her apartment for hours can only come up with so much. By the time it was dark out, you got the feeling that he wasn’t coming over. All your text messages and calls had gone unanswered. You worried sick, and sad as all hell. You skipped work to wait around for him, and then couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but lie there all day. So when he doesn’t show up it’s a day wasted. And when you wake up the next morning to nothing? Not a facetime, an emoji, not even a fuck off? Your heart just sort of breaks.

“Hi, uh. I don’t really know what’s going on. And I don’t know what he could have said to you to make you not come over but...I’m scared, Shawn. I--I miss you. And I just want to know that you’re okay. Please call me. Bye.”

You showed up to work an absolute nervous wreck. It had taken you all morning to convince yourself not to go over to Shawns’ apartment. If he really didn't want to see you, then you probably owed that to him. The rational part of you was trying to come up with a solution. So, you convinced yourself that Shawn must’ve gotten into a really terrible fight with his dad and he had gone off somewhere to play music and blow off steam. It wasn’t the craziest scenario. In the time that you’d known him, Shawn had definitely fled the world to hide in a room somewhere with his guitar. This was just the first time, he’d shut you out too.

You walked onto the floor of your office and Tiana was waiting there with a hot tea for you and a very sad, anxious look on her face. It just so happened that you didn’t have the emotional capacity to deal with anyone else at the moment.

“Hey Ti,” You mumbled. “I just need the day okay? I’m gonna go work on some stuff, but I really don’t want to be bothered.”

“I know sis but… you’ve got a visitor.”

Your eyes widened and quickly moved to get to your office.

“Is it Shawn? Did he say anything to you?”

“Y/n it’s not Shawn!” She called after you. “It’s Manny.”

You froze where you stood peering at your office door with confusion.

“What?”

“He was already here when I got here. He said that he had something to tell you, and that you’d be interested in hearing from him.” She explained. “But, I can kick him out if you want. I--I didn’t know!”

You swallowed and turned back to your friend.

“No uh, it’s okay. I’ll just...I’ll go in there.”

There’s a moment where you stood outside your office and took a huge breath. The truth of the matter was Manny had scared you for years. In the midst of your come up in the industry there were plenty of men who didn’t like you. Didn’t like your ideas, didn’t like your success, didn’t like your unwillingness to bow down to them. That you’d grown used to. But Manny seemed to feel all of those things at a level that no one else did. And while plenty of men would be happy to see your down fall not too many of them would actively participate in making it happen. You had known from the day you met him that Manny was the guy who would.

Falling for Shawn hadn’t gotten rid of the fear, but what it had done was shift your priorities. Whatever was on the other side of that door needed to happen, because you needed Shawn in your life. You loved him too much to be without him, and he loved you too much too. You knew that. You had to believe those two facts or none of it mattered. So you schooled your face into the mask that you’d created long before that day, and you walked into your office to meet it head on. Because there were no other options.

“Manny, I wasn’t sure if you knew where our office was located.” You smiled upon entering the room. “I always figured it was too urban of a space for you, not enough upper east side, ya know.”

He sat on the edge of your desk a lot like Shawn had the first time he’d been there. If there was anything to be said about the resemblance of the too, it was that Shawn did look a lot like his father.

“Well you’re right about that, y/n. I don’t exactly slum it unless I have too. I figured today was a good enough occasion.”

And subtle racist remarks all before ten am. This ought to be a treat.

“What do you want, Manny?”

You sat down at your desk and of course he immediately stood up so that he could tower over you. Men. So incredibly predictable.

“It’s over y/n.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatics.

“And do tell, what exactly is over Manny?”

“Whatever hold you had on my son. It’s done with.”

“Ahhh. That’s what this is about. You’re upset that he started thinking for himself, and that his hands were no longer glued to your ass. I’m sorry but that has nothing to do with me. He’s a grown man; he thinks for himself.”

Manny stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to walk around the room. In retrospect Shawn was just about as dramatic as his father, just less evil.

“I should’ve known when it first started that you’d dig your claws into him. His rush to get me to introduce you two. The sudden trips to Rome on my jet, of course. The push back at work. His disappearing all the time.” He sighed. “I just thought angry pussy was better pussy or something.”

Your anger gets the best of you and a break appears in the mask.

“Excuse me?”

“Well you two really just weren’t subtle at all now were you? Which was fine at first. I’m sure you’re perfectly fine in the sack y/n, but it’s not like he’d ever marry you into the family. But then you started putting your nose where it didn’t fucking belong. That stint at the pub where we found Niall. Did you really think I wasn’t going to hear about that?”

You were absolutely rattled inside, varying on disgust and rage alongside a kind of fear you hadn’t experienced in years. But you couldn’t let it show. You’d rather die than let it show.

“He’s talented. He’s the best I’ve seen in years and I’ve got three of this years top artists under my belt. To block that? To keep him hidden because of your own inadequacies? That’s pathetic and you know it.”

Manny chuckled. “Your generation is so incredibly naive. That’s business, honey. Shawn can do more for me outside of the spotlight than he can inside it. It’s as simple as that.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You old wrinkly white men and your archaic understanding of the world. That’s not business, that’s greed. That relentless, self-indulging, disgusting greed you sad, sad little man.”

The smile on Manny’s face dropped as well as the temperature in the room. You were without a doubt one of the only people in his life to challenge him. He didn’t like it at all.

“And what about what he wants? Doesn’t that matter at all?” You asked. “Doesn’t anything but your own self-interest matter to you at all?”

“Not even in the slightest. But it’s okay now. I’ve shifted my narrative in part because of you. So I thank you for that.”

“Jesus Christ you know you sound like a villain straight out of a Spy Kids movie, like at all times? Will you just get to the fucking point?”

“I’m gonna give Shawn his masters back.”

You paused. “What?”

“Yep. All two hundred songs. There his. He can do with them what he pleases. He’ll resign a contract with me of course, and I’ll give him the career he always wanted. He’ll realize that he’s nothing without me. And everyone lives happily ever after.”

“I’m just supposed to believe that a plan you cooked up when he was fifteen years old is over now? Just like that? What’s the catch here?”

Manny snapped his fingers and moved closer to you.

“Oh that’s right. My apologies. The catch is that he has to break up with you.”

At this your stomach and your heart and everything in between just dropped.

“What?”

“You heard me. Shawn can have everything that he’s ever wanted, every song he’s ever written, just as long as you’re not in the picture.” He smiled. “I know my son, y/n. And he will pick correctly and you will be but an unpleasant memory.”

It just ripped you to shreds. It was the culmination of everything that you knew about Shawn, and everything that you loved about him, being exactly the thing to take him from you. And it hurt. You were left utterly defenseless as if he’d ripped your carefully crafted mask right from your face. Your eyes watered, your throated tightened. This was it. This was the end. Manny had banked on your willingness to know Shawn, which meant he knew that you loved him. And perhaps that’s the part that hurts the most. That someone could take the goodness of your heart and use it against you in such a malicious way.

“Why...why would you do this?” You asked.

And he shrugged at you.

“I like to win y/n. And I always win. This time will be no different. And I’ll make sure of it.”

He left the room just as the tears spilled over your cheeks. Because in order for Manny to win, someone would have to lose. He had made sure that only one person would come out of this scathed. You lost.

***

Seeing him on the other side of your door makes the gaping hole where your heart used to be throb. His curls are wilder than ever. There are bags beneath his eyes that are unlike anything you’d ever seen. He looked exhausted and sad and really beautiful even then. When he sees you he pulls up a smile that is so pathetic it hurts. But, it’s honest. It’s him giving all of himself to you, even when there’s damn near nothing left. To look at him now was to be in pain. And so you had to remind yourself that preservation was a Black woman’s armor. It was all you had left.

He smiled sadly as you leaned against your door not inviting him inside.

“Hi.” He whispered waving in his favorite clappy hand like motion that usually made you smile.

Not today.

“Hi.”

“I can explain. And I am so, so sorry that I disappeared but--”

“There’s no need.” You interrupted.

He shook his head. “No, y/n, I swear to you that I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just needed time. I needed to clear my head and my fucking dad he--”

“I know. Shawn I know.” You mumbled. “He came to my office.”

Shawn’s eyes widened.

“He did what? What did he say to you?”

He reached for you and you stepped further behind the door causing Shawn to pause and stare at you. His face began to shift just as the puzzle pieces slid into place. As your lip trembled he raised his hands up in the air in a motion of defenselessness, as if he was waiting for you to spook and disappear at any moment. If only he knew.

“Y/n what’s going on?” He whispered, eyes wide open and scared. “Why won’t you let me touch you? W--Why can’t we go inside?”

You closed your eyes and breathed but it was pointless. The tears came in abundance now. His hand touched your cheek and you wished that it didn’t soothe you. Wouldn’t this all be easier if he didn’t soothe you so well.

“It’s over, Shawn.”

“What?” He mumbled, completely frozen into place. “What?”

You swallowed.

“It has to end. You and me, we’re done.”

“What are you talking about right now? Are you kidding me?” He sputtered. “I--love you. I love you with everything that I am, how could you say that to me?”

You shake your head to try and dispel some of the sadness with the hopes that you could even get through this whole. The problem was you already felt yourself splintering, and the more room you gave him to fight, the more damaged the both of you would be.

“I’m sorry, but that doesn’t matter right now.”

You can tell by the look on his face that you’re crushing him. This fact only ruins you further, only make the pain sizzle deep in your gut. You’ve got nothing left to give. You’ve gotta give it all to him so that he can go on and be okay. It’s for the best. It has to be.

“It does matter?! I love you! And you love me. And it doesn’t matter? Why are you doing this?!”

“Because it...it’s the only way to give you everything you’ve always wanted. And I love you enough to give you that. Goodbye Shawn.”

“Y/n, wait can’t we please just--”

You close the door in his face. Everything is blurry around the edges. You sink down to the floor and cover your ears as if it might cover the sounds of him pounding on your door. The two of you cry and sob for the other. You knows there’s no fixing this. It’s done.

***

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

Text

The In Between Times

AO3 link!

Thanks y’all for reading the first chapter :) The second picks up just before the start of episode 10 and then continues after the MetalTyrannomon battle. I just decided there are two break periods in there so I could let Yamato be his angsty aloof crying-out-for-connection self as much as his little heart desires.

Chapter 2: Yamato - The Second Night

They might have missed the cave altogether had the first rays of dawn not come twinkling through the branches at that moment. Once he spotted the craggy gap in the stone, Yamato didn't hesitate. "In here," he called, gesturing for the others to follow, and ran inside himself. He and Gabumon scanned around for any sign that the cave might already be inhabited. It seemed they were in luck. Just in time too, because the others poured into the cave like a tidal wave, sped on by pure survival instinct.

The tall nerdy kid with the smudged glasses threw himself face-first on the ground, ending up with a mouth full of dirt. He let out a pitiful groan that reminded Yamato of air slowly escaping from a balloon.

One of the two girls, wearing a pink dress and fussing over her hat, soon collapsed besides him, offering up similar complaints. The brainy kid who Yamato had met before (in a manner of speaking) sat down with his tablet computer settled on his legs and resumed typing away. The only time Yamato had seen him do anything different so far had been when he was running for his life.

"MetalTyrannomon," the kid (Izumi, was it?) muttered, his thick brow a tight, pensive knot. "Perfect level... Maybe I can..." He trailed off, and Yamato didn't bother asking him to elaborate.

He had other priorities.

As soon as he entered the cave, Yagami had stopped running, but he didn't stop to catch his breath. He still held Agumon cradled in his arms. The expression on his face looked almost bad as his injured partner. Yagami carried him over to a small ledge and set him down ever so gently, as if handling a porcelain figure.

The other girl, the redhead, hovered nearby, and eventually Yamato overheard her suggest wiping Agumon down with a cool cloth. A grateful look spread across Yagami's face. He seemed relieved just to have something to do, other than try to help Agumon recover by sheer force of will.

Red Hair took out a towel and a water bottle from her bag. As she soaked the towel, she turned and murmured something to her partner. "Okay!" chirped the bird, flapping her wings. She landed next to Gabumon. "Do you think you can find some leaves or something to make this rock a bit more comfortable for Agumon?" she asked. "I'm going to find some food. He'll be famished when he wakes up."

"I'll come with you." Izumi's partner raised his... leg?

"Me too!" the flower creature chimed in.

Gabumon tilted his head to catch Yamato's eye. "You know you don't have to ask," Yamato said softly.

With a smile, Gabumon followed the others into the jungle. Yamato hoped they wouldn't be long. Soundbirdmon was on watch somewhere out there, MetalTyrannomon not far behind. But if Gabumon wanted to do something to help Agumon, Yamato wasn't about to stop him.

Yagami ran the damp towel over Agumon's body, crusted mud and sand sloughing off bit by bit. Red Hair held Agumon's claw in her hand, gently massaging it. Neither said much, but Yagami seemed more at ease with her there. Some of the tension drained from his shoulders as he moved the towel in methodical circles. Yamato was glad he seemed more relaxed, because they had to Talk. Yagami had been this close to trying to fight MetalTyrannomon himself even after his partner got K.O.'d, and Yamato certainly had Opinions on that stunt.

"Listen," he began, taking a step closer.

Yagami turned around. Yamato couldn't quite hide the shock that went through him when he got a glimpse of Yagami's quivering chin, the ruddy stains high in his cheeks. He looked like he was barely holding back tears. "What?" he asked, and the stubborn line of his mouth didn't budge even when his voice wavered, as if determined to make it seem like everything was normal. A valiant effort, but he didn't fool Yamato. His eyes gave him away.

"... Never mind." They would still need to talk, of course. But... later.

He shrank away to post himself at the mouth of the cave, ostensibly to keep watch, and tried to ignore how much seeing Yagami so distressed bothered him.

---

"I can't believe I've done more in the last day - or day and a half, I guess - than I have in my entire life." Tall And Nerdy sagged forward with a sigh, bending his reedy body in an S shape. "First there was that giant squid. Boy, does that feel like a long time ago. Then we rode Ikkakumon across the sea, and then we attacked some weird military base. As if that wasn't enough, my textbook disintegrated in that acidic lake thanks to Mimi-kun."

"It's funny how the days feel so long and so short at the same time here, isn't it." Red Hair had taken off her hat and was dabbing her forehead with a towel from her seemingly endless supply.

"They don't feel short to me! Not at all! My feet are killing me!" The whiny girl in the baffling pink cowgirl dress turned to the redhead with a pleading expression. "I need another bandage, Sora-san!"

"Blisters? You should give your feet a soak in Epsom salts. Lets the fluid drain."

"Do you have Epsom salts, Jou-senpai?"

"... Well no, I was just suggesting -"

"Why bother!"

Yamato remained hunched at the mouth of the cave, trying to block them out. For the most part he was unsuccessful.

He was used to working alone, after all, and these people were... noisy.

Nestled against him but not quite asleep yet was Gabumon, a warm, lethargic ball of fur pressing into his side. Across from them, Izumi once again sat frowning at his tablet computer. This appeared to be his natural state. He too seemed to be trying to avoid the noise coming from deeper in the cave, where the others were concocting some form of dinner.

MetalTyrannomon was defeated, so that made it a victory dinner of sorts. He couldn't blame them for wanting to celebrate. It had been quite a day.

In the morning, they planned to split up into two groups. Since the most direct path to the holy Digimon was blocked by that terrifying miasma, one group would take the left route and the other would go right. If all went well, they'd reach their rendezvous point without any trouble and finally be able to do something about the blackout in Tokyo.

That was the only reason Yamato was still here. Though hard to admit, he'd only managed to break into the fortress so quickly because of his new traveling companions. It could have taken him days to figure out a safer way in alone, and according Izumi, they working with a tight deadline.

(Another point in favor of sticking with this group - Izumi could keep tabs on what was happening back home, despite the time lag. Even Yamato couldn't help but feel a little in awe of his powers. Seriously, where had Yagami found this wiz kid?)

Otherwise he'd be long gone by now, he was sure of it. Once he knew they weren't going to get themselves killed or anything, and that they weren't totally helpless when left to their own devices. Already he felt restless. With every minute that passed, Takeru remained in danger. Truth be told, he didn't want to stop for the night, and he wouldn't have if the others weren't so set on it.

Not to mention, he had been pushing Gabumon. Never against his will; more than anyone, Gabumon understood why he drove himself so hard. Even so... he deserved a rest.

There was a fire going now, casting flickering shadows on the cavern walls. Red Hair, Tall And Nerdy, and Pink Dress all crouched close to the flames and began wrapping aluminum foil around some sort of tuber that allegedly tasted like sweet potatoes. Their chatter petered off to a low murmur, broken up with peels of laughter, most often from Pink Dress. It was a marked change from how dour they'd all been that morning.

Yamato fingered the harmonica in his pocket. If he were alone right now (except for Gabumon, of course) he'd play something. Music always helped him wind down.

Just then the sound of footsteps approaching quickly caught his ear. His hand tightened around the harmonica before he let go and stood, senses on alert. An instant later, Gabumon leapt to his feet too. (Izumi didn't budge, even when the footsteps came close enough that anyone should be able to hear them.)

Yagami and his partner entered the cave loaded down with bags, and Yamato dropped his guard some. Yagami's hair looked even more a mess than normal, but he was grinning from ear to ear. It was starting to trip Yamato up, the way Yagami could work with him so well in the heat of battle, then turn around and shoot off this absolutely dopey grin. Noticing Yamato, he held up a bag with a look of triumph.

"What's that?" Yamato let his eyes narrow.

"Fish!" Yagami crowed.

"We caught lots!" Agumon added. Gabumon shuffled over to him and gave the bag a sniff. His fur bristled with excitement.

"Where did you find them?" Yamato asked. Yagami was now standing in front of Izumi, dangling his catch above the tablet screen and lowering it little by little.

"That shore where we met up with you," he said.

Yamato's brow shot up. "You went all the way back there?"

Yagami shrugged. "It's not so far away. And it's deserted now. I just hope none of these guys," he gave the bag a shake, "were any of Gomamon's friends."

"That was really dangerous, you know," frowned Yamato, trying to inject as much disapproval into his tone as possible. Earlier he'd insisted on fighting MetalTyrannomon by himself, and now this?

"Amazing," Yagami said. Yamato quirked a brow, but Yagami was facing Izumi. "No reaction at all."

"Try kicking him," Agumon suggested.

"No! No kicking!" cried Izumi's insect-like partner, buzzing over from where he'd been talking to the other Digimon. "Danger Will Robinson! Koushirou-han, abort!"

"What?" Izumi's head lifted at last. On being confronted with a bag full of fish, he blinked twice and made a confused sputtering noise. "Hn?"

None of this made any sort of impression on Yagami. If anything, he looked even more proud. "Look at all the fish we caught. C'mon! Tonight we feast like kings."

"Well - well done." Izumi leaned away, fingers pinching his nose. "Are we going to roast them?"

"I mean, unless you prefer them raw."

"I am not sure those are quite sushi grade."

"Roasting it is."

They both scampered towards the campfire as Yamato looked on.

"Soraaa! Fish!"

"Ah!" Red Hair yelped as a bag of fish dropped in her arms. "Wow, seriously?"

The others oohed and gathered around her, peeking into the bag as if fish were some rare oddity.

"They look like mackerel!" exclaimed Pink Dress.

"I'm just now realizing I haven't had real food since yesterday," Izumi said.

"These aren't poison are they?" Tall And Nerdy pushed his glasses up his nose, grimacing.

"What kind of question is that? Anyway, Agumon already ate one, and he's fine. Thank us, your fish providers."

"I'll thank you after we eat," said Red Hair. "Now go get some sticks so we can cook them."

Yagami muttered under his breath. "Task master..." But he squared his shoulders and turned back the way he came. For some reason, Yamato followed him. He didn't have anything better to do after all.

Outside, Yagami started stamping around the foliage, nose to the ground like a hunting dog. "Help me look for roasting sticks," he said. He picked up a long, thick branch. "Hmm..."

"Way too big." Yamato easily found a thinner one. "Give me your pocket knife."

"It's Sora's." Yagami handed it over and watched as Yamato started whittling the tip of the stick into a point. "Wow, you're good at that."

"Mmm."

"Have you done it before?"

"Mmm."

Yagami stared at him. Yamato waited for him to make some quip like, "You sure are a chatterbox," or "Cat got your tongue?" Strangely, he didn't. He went back to scanning for sticks, now and then picking one up and inspecting it. When he had a bundle he brought them over to Yamato and dumped them on the ground, before sinking down next to him with a long groan.

"Tired?"

"What, nah."

"You really shouldn't have gone back to the sea by yourself."

"Look, I'm fine, I've got all my fingers and toes, see?" Yagami flopped on his back and wiggled his fingers in the air. "And you get a fish dinner, so what's there to complain about?"

They lapsed into silence. Yamato's fingers deftly worked the knife across the bark of each branch until they had six whittled to sharp points. He hesitated, then started working on a seventh, just in case one of the six broke.

The cloudy sky looked almost black, and a breeze had kicked up, fresh and cool. Something about it reminded him of the Shimane countryside. Of course, back home there were no jungles. Sitting on hard, lumpy earth, though - the repetitive motion of sliding a knife over a strip of wood, campfire smoke wafting in the air, the quietude, the uncomplicated companionship -

"My old man taught me," he said.

Yagami's eyes had glazed over. He looked half-asleep already, arms tucked behind his head and legs sticking out straight. When Yamato spoke he gave a slight jolt and peered upward. "... Your dad taught you how to whittle?"

Yamato nodded, wondering why he was sharing this. Yagami pushed himself into a sitting position with a curious look, and he couldn't think of a way to avoid going on. "We go camping whenever he needs a break from work," he continued. "He's got an RV."

Yagami whistled. "The only camping I've ever done is the class trip."

"Tokyo isn't known for its great camping spots."

"Ha, no."

Picking up the roasting sticks, Yamato stood. "Next time tell me when you're going off somewhere."

Yagami's lips pinched. "I get that you think we're all so inexperienced compared to you, but I'm not some helpless two-year-old.""

"That's not - two people can get a job done twice as fast, that's all."

He took a step into the cave.

"... Oh. That's what this is about?"

Yamato faltered.

"You could have just said you wanted to come with."

"Would you have listened?"

"Someone had to watch over the cave though."

Yamato only nodded, a little annoyed with himself. That morning he'd had plenty to say, when Yagami insisted on trusting Ogremon, a villain who'd tried to kill them multiple times. Now that it turned out Ogremon hadn't been lying, and Yagami made good on his vow to defeat MetalTyrannomon, Yamato felt... not quite speechless, but less inclined to argue.

Then Yagami clapped a hand on his shoulder. He should have shrugged it off. Yamato didn't much go for physical contact. But, as usual, Yagami somehow managed to flip all the rules he'd carefully laid out for himself on their head. "Hey. Next time let's go together."

He grinned again.

In the end, no one knew whether there would even be a next time. Tomorrow they would split up after all. Yamato mulled over their plan as they pierced the fish on the sticks and set them over the fire. The sweet potatoes were rich and buttery. The roasted fish flaked apart between his fingers, not very meaty, but still a welcome change from canned soup and hardtack. He spat the bones into the ashes. Around him, the others bubbled over with talk and laughter, as if this were just another mountainside camping trip, and not another step toward the fight of their lives.

Takeru was counting on him. He couldn't afford to get distracted.

But it was late, and Yagami's head bumped against his shoulder as he started to nod off, loosening his grip on his stick enough that his partner could quickly snap up the remains of his fish before anyone noticed.

One night with these people wouldn't hurt, Yamato thought.

He should probably get around to learning their names.

#digimon adventure:#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure reboot #yamato ishida #digimon #fizz writes

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that-gt-and-vore-stuffs · 4 years

Note

What about Davey messing with spot?

I like your style, Anon. Let’s see what I can do with this >:)

As always, Vore under the cut

Going full momma bear for his boys wasn’t something new to Davey. The last time it had gotten this bad though the Delanceys had avoided him out flat for a whole month. Even now he could scare them off with just a toothy grin or “absentmindedly” tracing a path down his throat. Seeing them pale and back away never failed to bring a smile to his face. He earned quite a bit of respect for that too. Not many Newsies could do that. Only two that he could think of in all honesty: himself and Spot Conlon.

He and Spot weren’t on bad terms at all. At least, that’s how it seemed. They talked on occasion, could get along better then Spot and Jack, and both had the brains to keep their respective gangs in line. Not too long ago though he had an exchange with the leader of Brooklyn he never expected. One that stuck with him.

————

“So how’d you do it?”

“Huh?”

“Scare Th’ Delanceys that damn bad. How?”

Davey looked at the leader of Brooklyn with an expression that seemed a mix of conflicted and embarrassed. Oh boy. A nervous laugh sounded in his throat as he pulled at his tie with a finger like he was suffocating because of it. “Oh it wasn’t anything all that special.”

“To scare the Delanceys that bad? Bullshit. It takes a lot t’be able t’make those two pale like ghosts. So how’d ya do it?”

Oh boy. Spot seemed serious. That wasn’t good for him. He knew the shorter boy wouldn’t stop until he got an answer and he wanted to walk out of this without a bruise or a broken limb. Wasn’t this perfect? “Y-you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Really now?”

“Yeah. It sounds cra-“

“Then show me.”

Davey pales a bit. Oh. Oh no. That was a bad idea. “I-I don’t think I should-“

“They wasn’t physically hurt at all. I can take it. So show me.”

His throat bobs as Davey gulps. Spot really....this wasn’t going to end good for him. No sir. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t do it here at least. I-It takes preparation and such. About a d-day or so.”

“I didn’t peg you as one for such elaborate plans, Dave. Though, I suppose I should ‘ave. You ain’t like Jack-Be-Nimble Jack-Be-Quick after all.”

Davey laughs, the nervous undertones sticking out like a sore thumb. “No, I’m not.”

“Well then, think you’ll be able t’show me tomorrow? Seein’ as ya ain’t got that school shit or whatever over th’ weekend.”

Oh perfect. He isn’t going to drop it. Just his luck. “I.....I suppose so. But, I should warn you now, anything that I say or do is solely acting. So please don’t take anything personally.”

“Why? Insultin’ part of it?”

“Yeah. And some other things I wouldn’t do to anyone if they didn’t deserve it. But....you’re asking and I’m not going to deny you.”

“Good choice, Dave.”

“Heh. So I’ve heard.”

One spit shake later and Davey was practically put on the execution list. The clock was ticking....

————

His time was up. Shit. Shitshitshit. This seemed like an even worse idea now that he was here, looming over a unconscious and tied up Spot Conlon in the dark of the night, in the abandoned warehouse, with an empty stomach and a death wish for doing this. One he was certain was going to be fufiled thanks to this.

The first sign of movement and consciousness he slipps into character. “Well....looks like someone’s finally awake. Took you long enough.”

The last thing Spot expected was to wake up shrunken and tied with seeming expertise. Or for Davey to be over him in such a manner. “What Th’ hell is you talkin’ about David?! What’d you do to me?!”

“Oh don’t act suprised. You asked for this. I thought it was obvious what you were getting into when you decided to do what you did.” The sickeningly sweet tone and smile fit almost too well on his face. Like he was designed for this.

For a minute Spot is ready to try and fight the taller boy, despite his size. Then it all comes flodding back. Right. He did ask to see this. Davey was acting. Damn, kid could act. He seemed like a completely different person. Guess it seemed fair he only threw his hat in the ring with this acting show. To fully understand what this was about. How bad could it get after all? He made sure to flash Davey a look of understanding before starting to fight his bindings. “What th’ hell do you mean?! I didn’t ask for shit!”

That look....Spot remembered. Thank god. Davey doesn’t dare drop his act though. That same psychotic laugh from that night weeks ago rings through the room. “Oh sure you didn’t. Then why do I remember what you did so vividly? I am simply....teaching you a lesson.”

Holy shit. Now Spot was staring to see why the Delanceys were so scared. Davey seemed straight insane! He was more then grateful for it only being acting. “I ain’t in need of no lesson, nutjob! Let me the fuck go!”

A hand slammed down next to him, making him jump. He really was small...

“Oh I don’t think I will. Not for a while....” As he talks, keeping his tone sweet and speed slow, he brings his other hand up behind the leader of Brooklyn. When all seemed calm he quickly took hold of the boy and hoisted him into the air. “My my, and I thought you were short before.”

“Thats low.” Spot can’t help the little out of character comment that escapes him with a smirk before he drops it and starts to squirm in the seemingly giant boy’s grasp. “What‘s that supposed t’mean?! You’s is gonna let me go, that clear?!”

“Oh I don’t think you want me to do that now, Spot. Not when a drop this far could break one of your legs. Or snap your spine. But enough talk. I’ll get to my point.” Here’s where his improv skills were going to get put to the test. He wasn’t excited about it. “I have a offer for you. A deal if you will. You agree to leave me and my boys alone and I’ll spare you. Disagree.....well I am very creative when it comes to fun executions.”

Spot feels his blood chill. Davey was acting, but damn did this feel real. “Prove it.”

“Oh? Much feistier then those brothers, I see. Well....I could snap each of your limbs one by one and leave you to die. I could crush you under a hand or foot. I could strangle you like a snake with my hand. Need I go on?”

Oh. Those.....he could actually do those. That. That made him uncomfortable. More aware of his size. “N-no. You don’t haf’ta. So I just have t’leave Manhattan alone?”

“Yes. That’s all I ask.” Davey shoots the boy a borderline insane toothy grin. “Do we have a deal?”

Silence. You could hear a pin drop.

Tension. You could cut it with a knife.

“Deal.”

“Goodie! Now do stay still. This will only take a moment.” Davey doesnt wait for a response before he snaps off the bindings with his teeth. He sets Spot on the ground. Just like with the Delanceys when the boy tries to back up he slams a hand down.

“Now where are you going?”

This wasn’t done? Oh boy. Just what did Davey do to the Delanceys? “Leavin’. I agreed t’ya deal.”

“Oh...why are all who I shrink so naïve?” Davey doesn’t wait to snatch the tiny back up. “I’m not done yet. I just like to see my captives have hope, only for it to be crushed.”

“W-What th’ hell is that supposed t’mean?! What else could ya want wit’ me?!”

Davey doesn’t have to say a word, his stomach growling seemingly on cue. “Well...you see, setting this whole thing up and caring for a bunch of Newsies is enough to make you forget the simple things. I’m just...so hungry and you look, dare I say, absolutely delicious~”

Spot freezes. Oh. So that’s what Davey did. What he ment when he said he wouldn’t believe him. And he was too far to turn back. Oh no. “I....I’m not some meal for you, ya psychopath!!”

“Oh don’t look so down. It’s not like it’ll hurt you. I just need something to fill my poor stomach for a while until I can get something to eat.”

“How Th’ hell is EATIN’ ME ALIVE not gonna hurt me?!”

“Well the Delanceys are still walking around, aren’t they? What I used to shrink you...see, it makes you immune to things like stomach acids. Convenient, isn’t it?”

Another insane laugh rings out in the warehouse as Spot processes this. “Oh Spot. I tried to warn you. Tried to tell you not to poke the bear. Now you can deal with the consequences. So do me a favor and don’t fight until you get to the bottom like a good meal, alright?”

Spot isn’t allowed to get a thought out before he’s dangling over Davey’s maw. A yelp of alarm sounds from the throat of the shrunken Newsie. This....Davey was right, but....this was bad. He wants to fight, he really does, but for the first time in years he’s frozen in fear.

Davey’s grip steadily loosens until the boy is plummeting strait onto his awaiting tongue. The jaws around Spot snap shut, trapping him as the tongue underneath him starts to lick him over and toy with his frozen body. He can’t move. He’s paralyzed and it’s scary. No. Terrifying.

Satisfied with his work, Davey brings a hand to his throat. A soft yet strong gulp tugs the leader of Brooklyn down, his hand tracing the path all the way with each swallow until he feels him drop into his stomach. His tongue snakes out over his lips, ending with a satisfied sigh. “Ah~ Now that is much better.”

Spot isn’t ready to be met with a pleased gurgle as he drops into the chamber. Finally he can move and he’s able to start to fight. The hitch in the breathing of the giant lungs above him signals something. Something he’s so very glad to hear.

“S-Spot?! Are you ok in there? I didn’t hurt you right? Did I go overboard? I’m sorry if I did I just get too into character and I can’t-“ Davey cant help but drop the act and start to ask the shrunken boy in his gut a million and ten questions and the presses against his form.

Spot yelps as he’s pushed back by the pressure of Davey’s hand from the outside. At least Davey was back to himself. “I’m fine Dave. Physically fine. I....I now see why you didn’t want to show me. And why the Delanceys are scared stiff of you.”

Davey’s usual nervous laugh sounds deafening as it shakes the chamber holding Spot. “Yeah....that. And could you speak up a bit? You’re really muffled.”

Spot’s fighting calms down, him relaxing against the wall that’s oddly comfortable. The only thing that’s strained at the moment is his voice but he can take that. “O-Ok....so, you’s is gonna spit me up, unshrink me, an’ then we go our separate ways, yeah?”

“Uh.....” Davey knows he should but...it’s so nice to be full again after a day of not eating and he doesn’t really want to go to bed on a empty stomach. It wouldn’t hurt to just... “not yet.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, I wasn’t lying when I said I was really hungry. Missing a day’s worth of meals then also running around with the boys does a number on a empty stomach. “It’s not like you aren’t safe after all.”

“Dave, are you tryna say you ain’t gonna let me out?”

“Um....y-yeah. Sorry...?”

This is where the fighting picks up again. Davey’d be lying worse then Pinocchio if he said he didn’t miss it. A hand started to rub at his belly again, almost like he was trying to get Spot to move.

“Lemme guess. You’s wasn’t lyin’ bout the squirmin’ thing either?” Spot’s tone is somewhere between annoyance, anger, and amusement. This was certainly something.

“They....it feels nice....” Davey sheepishly admits. It does feel nice to have a squirming meal under his skin.

“Well ain’t that good for my case!”

“It really isn’t.”

“Oh trust me, I know!”

They talk for a while more, Spot having to constantly yell at the top of his lungs for Davey to hear him. After a while a yawn echoes around Spot, followed by the swaying of the chamber hes in as Davey stands up.

The taller teen forces himself to his feet, a hand rubbing at his gut all the while. Boy is he lucky that his prey never seems to make a bump in his flat stomach. Makes it easier for him to hide his special “punishment,” though he’s certain the boys of Manhattan know. “Hey Spot? I’m getting pretty tired and am gonna head back to the lodging house for the night. Do you think you could keep it down?”

Spot seems silent. He’s not but after so much shouting he needs a break. The fighting says all he has to though.

“Alright then, as long as you don’t manage to wake up any of the boys.”

Slowly Davey stumbles through the sleeping city, a hand over his stomach at all times. Back at the lodging house, trying to get through the mess of boys and to his shared bed for the night with a squirming meal in his stomach again. He really couldn’t think of a better way to end his night. With a few pats to Spot he snuggles down for the night, leaning into Jack’s sleeping presence without thinking. Once he’s drifted off he leaves Spot to himself. It’s awkward but eventually he tires out. Not long after, the leader of Brooklyn finds himself unconscious listening to the sounds of the boy’s body around him.

/Note to self: If David tries to avoid a topic, don’t press him on it./

#safe vore #soft vore #g/t newsies #fearplay #Jesus Davey #calm down

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monotonous-minutia · 4 years

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How would you like your favorite opera to be staged ideally? (I went off in a Così post and now I need to know the deep opinions about everyone’s favs). Thank you!!

thanks, this is great!

I did a post on Don Carlo a while ago and how I’d stage it so this time I’m going to talk about my other favorite opera, Martha, oder der Markt zu Richmond. It’s very obscure so I’ll start with a brief description of the opera.

It’s a German comic opera about a lady-in-waiting, Harriet, who is super bored with her rich life and decides to go to the fair dressed like a maid with her best friend, Nancy, and a knight, Tristam, who’s in love with her (she does not reciprocate his feelings). At the fair they meet two brothers, Lyonel and Plumkett. Lyonel was was taken in by Plumkett’s family when his mysterious father basically dropped him off at the front step, said “He’s yours now” and then died. Now Plumkett’s parents have died as well and they just inherited the farm and have no clue what they’re doing. So they go to the fair to buy some maids and come across Harriet (who calls herself Martha) and Nancy, who unwittingly sell themselves into servitude because they think it’s all a joke. Well, they get taken to the boys’ farmhouse and naturally they all fall in love with each other by bonding over household chores. Lyonel asks Harriet to marry him and she laughs in his face and he immediately overreacts because Tenor. The boys go to sleep and then Tristam comes and rescues the girls and the boys wake up and find them gone and are super depressed. An ambiguous amount of time later, Plumkett bumps into Nancy in town and she’s on the hunt and she pretends not to recognize him and gets her fellow huntresses to chase him off. Meanwhile, Lyonel is depressed and listless and wandering around and proceeds to sing one of the most famous tenor arias of all time, “Ach, so fromm” (look it up, you’ll probably recognize the tune); the fame of which SHOULD be enough to integrate this opera into common repertory, but alas that is not the case. Anyway, of course at this very moment Harriet is also wandering around in the exact same spot and bumps into Lyonel who instantly recognizes her but is confused as to why she is dressed so fancy. Harriet freaks out and also pretends not to know him and calls for help. Tristam comes and, seeing his rival in love, calls for all the available Big Strong Men to come and save Harriet. Everything gets out of control and Lyonel winds up arrested and is humiliated when he realizes who Harriet actually is. Turns out, though, that his deceased father was a Count and when Harriet finds this out she goes back to him saying they can get married now without backlash because he’s of a higher station. He rejects her because he thinks she only wants him because he’s a count and also he renounces his title. Harriet decides to dress up as Martha again to convince him that she still loves him and is willing to leave all her wealth behind to be with him. Meanwhile, Plumkett and Nancy sing an absolutely delightful love duet. Harriet sets up the farmers’ backyard to look like the fair where she and Lyonel met and he meets her out there and she renounces her title and asks if he will still marry her and he agrees. And Plumkett and Nancy get together too and it’s all just adorable.

Okay so that wasn’t really brief but. Moving on.

I absolutely love this opera because the story is so original and fun, the libretto is ingeniously witty, and the music is fantastic, intricately portraying the comic but making sure to take the more sober parts seriously. ALSO, Flotow was using leitmotif before it was cool. But that is another rant altogether.

There is a film based on this opera that is actually really spot-on, but I’ll talk a little about my vision for this opera too. I’ve actually been curating it since I was thirteen and first heard this opera.

First off, I think I would have the sets and costumes be historically accurate. This opera is pretty straightforward and I don’t see the need to fancify anything with elaborate or weird sets and costumes. Plus, it being more obscure, I think it helps to keep things simple so the audience doesn’t get lost wondering what’s accurate and what’s interpretation.

The fair scene would be so much fun. It’s pretty obvious that the maids who are selling their services are, in fact, looking for boyfriends, and the farmers purchasing their services are, in fact, looking for girlfriends. Which makes it all the more ridiculous that Lyonel and Plumkett have no idea what’s going on. They’re just looking for maids while everyone else is looking to get laid.So there’s this whole chorus where the maids are saying what all they can do and in the libretto there is so. much. subtext that they’re not actually talking about washing linens and knitting and making beds, they’re talking about using the beds in a specific way...you get the picture. So there would be some suggestive body language and a LOT of flirting. And the maids would be primping and preening, and the farmers would be straightening their hats and smoothing down their hair, etc., and it’d all just be ridiculous. The Sheriff would be rolling his eyes the entire time because he a) wants to get this over with and b) wishes people would take their responsibilities more seriously.

One thing about this opera is that, though it’s pretty short compared to a lot of others (it’s just under 2 hours--more if the scenes that are often cut are left in), but some of the numbers are long and repetitive while others are very fast-paced. So it would need to be staged carefully so that when the 2-verse duet stretches for like 5 minutes, they’re not just standing their the entire time. For example, when they first get to the farmhouse the boys are telling the girls for about 3 minutes that they’re home and will wake up early the next morning, and the girls spend an equal amount of time freaking out. I’d put some movement in here--Plumkett goes around lighting the lanterns, checking the doors, etc., while Lyonel stands awkwardly watching the girls as they huddle frozen in fear and then at the end Plumket turns and sees Lyonel doing absolutely nothing to help out and is supremely annoyed. After that a lot of the action is pretty well laid out in the libretto and I wouldn’t really need to add much because it moves along so quickly. Then there’s the duet between Lyonel and Harriet where he freaks her out with his Mad Tenor Passion and she sings a song to get him to shut up and then he professes his love for her and asks her to marry him and it all goes downhill. The song itself is kind of grim, and it’s sandwiched between these two duets that start lighthearted and then get serious when Harriet realizes “Oh, wow, my words can actually hurt someone, this is new information” and Lyonel goes “MY LIFE IS OVER THE WOMAN I JUST MET ISN’T IN LOVE WITH ME” so it’d have to be a careful balance of making sure the comic and dramatic elements are given equal weight. That’s kind of true for the whole opera.

An image I want to really utilize strongly is the rose. The song Harriet sings to Lyonel is “The Last Rose of Summer” but the librettist’s translation focuses more on death than the original poem which I find fascinating. Right before the song Lyonel takes Harriet’s “nosegay” that she had as part of her Martha costume and teases her with it, saying he’ll only give it back if she sings to him. My hot take: there’s a rose in her bouquet. He takes it when he takes the bouquet. She sees it and it’s what inspires her to sing this song. He takes it back when she rejects him and keeps it to remember her by when she runs away. He’s singing to it when he stumbles upon her in town. He drops it in the mayhem and she picks it up. She takes it with her and gives it to him when she goes to his house to try and win him back. He throws it in her face. When they split Nancy finds it on the floor, and then gives it to Harriet when she’s waiting for Lyonel to come out and find her dressed as Martha. She gives it to him when she renounces her station and pledges her love to him and he takes it and it ends with them both holding on to it.

One of my favorite things about this opera is the Nancy/Plumkett relationship and I absolutely do not want it to get swept to the side because a) mezzo/baritone couples need all the love and b) they have one of the greatest comic love duets in operatic history and I will fight anyone who argues that point. So I’d really want to make sure that stays as a big part of the plot. The libretto and music is so great at portraying the sweet, awkward feelings they have towards each other and I want the staging to reflect that. Also Plumkett totally learns his lesson: he tries to subordinate Nancy when he finds her in town and demands that she find her place, and she retaliates by sicking her huntresses on him and they chase him away. After that he has nothing but mad respect. He forgives her much more quickly than Lyonel forgives Harriet. Because though he is gruff and stern he’s a sucker at heart. One thing I’ll have to think more on is what happens right before their duet in the finale, when they come out of the kitchen after hiding there during the Lyonel/Harriet confrontation. Do they come out standing awkwardly distant from each other because they spent the last seven minutes silently twiddling their thumbs and eavesdropping? Or are they ruffled because they utilized much of that time to make out? Maybe it’s ambiguous, like Plumkett goes into the kitchen wearing a jacket and when he comes back out with Nancy he’s not wearing it anymore and we see who notices.

Also: Tristam is gay. Undebatable. He just thinks he’s in love with Harriet because that’s what’s expected. So he will possess all the stereotypes. He will be Extra and he will have the Gay Hands and Gay Eyebrows and all that. They will give him a flower crown at the fair. He will continue to wear it because he secretly likes it. He will be oblivious to the charm of the maids and instead become keenly interested in one of the farm hands.

aaaaaaaanyway not sure if any of that makes sense because I ramble and talk in circles and also most people don’t know this opera. But I thank you for the ask and hope that it brings a little enjoyment into your day. It definitely saved me from some fuming. Thank you!!

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ksfd89 · 4 years

Text

Jess Mariano’s One Man Show

Quick oneshot set during S3, as we didn't get enough cute moments between Rory and Jess!

This is not happening. Jess blinks and stares around the studio again in disbelief, refusing to accept that he's spending his Saturday night at Miss Patty's School of Dance. He's still clinging to the hope that this is some kind of hallucination brought on by eating the bacon that was sitting out too long.

"Smile! I want big smiles, right now!"

Like everyone in this godforsaken town doesn't have a crazy smile permanently on their face anyway. It's as if every neighbour is Pennywise! Of all the crazy shindigs this town could come up with, this one takes the cake. Jess was just walking along, head in book, half-reading, half-thinking about what food to order for movie night with Rory, when Miss Patty was grabbing his arm and some story was being babbled in his ear about Kirk getting stuck on a rafter. Jess actually allowed himself to be taken to the studio, more out of curiosity than real concern, and the next thing he knew the door was slammed shut and Kirk was blocking it. Jess had turned around to see a crowd of other townsfolk muttering amongst themselves and Miss Patty strolled up to the stage, a dangerous beam on her face.

"Welcome to the show, ladies and gentlemen!"

"I swear," Jess mumbled to Kirk, "after this you'll be in the rafters for real, and no one's going to rescue you."

"Oh, I'm used to that," Kirk said cheerfully and, before Jess could retaliate, Miss Patty called for volunteers which was how Jess found himself on the stage with a few other victims after Kirk had shoved him in the back. No one, Jess wasn't surprised to see, had volunteered for real, and as he looked across the audience his eyes landed on Rory. He stared at her and she looked as though she was trying not to giggle. As if there's something funny about this! And Jess thought the main struggle of the evening would be convincing her not to order from Sandeep's. The only saving grace is that Luke and Lorelai aren't here. Jess catches himself checking again, just to make sure. The jokes from either of them are more he can bear.

"I'm arranging a summer concert," Miss Patty tells them all, "and I need you dollfaces to try out a few numbers. Of course, I'll be the main event, but I need backup. Now, don't look so concerned - there's costumes in the back and a box right here!"

Costumes? No way. This is worse than being beaked by the swan! Rory isn't even trying to pretend not to laugh now and Jess remarks, "Hey, aren't you going to support me?"

"I can support you right here," Rory giggles and shakes her head as Jess asks, "You can't support me from the stage?"

"Not unless you want the audience's ears to bleed - I can't sing."

"I can vouch for that. Her singing is flatter than my first boyfriend's mattress," Miss Patty says seriously, which Jess doesn't need elaborating on.

"Fine, fine you can't sing. But -"

"You know I can't dance! Years of ballet lessons and I still stunk!"

"What about the dance marathon?"

"That was different!"

"Right," Jess sulks. "And what makes you think I'm Fred Astaire?"

"It's funny. Plus, there's your dazzling good looks," Rory remarks and Jess can't help smiling a little in a spite of himself. She's definitely not ordering from Sandeep's after this though.

Miss Patty starts tinkling a tune on the piano, stopping to rummage through the box and throw things at the 'volunteers'.

"I thought we'd start with This Little Light of Mine, as the concert's about the town of Stars Hollow and we're all little stars! Well," Patty amends with a chuckle, "I'm a big star, but this one's not about me."

Jess feels his mirth trickle away as the townsfolk start pawing through feather boas and sequin vests. Suddenly, he recalls a play he did in Kindergarten where he played a sheep. Liz was supposed to be there and Jess was so excited he couldn't eat lunch fast enough, even if his costume was more threadbare than wool. Then the play started, and Liz wasn't there, and Jess couldn't think of his line. Someone laughed, Jess remembered - baa! - and as he opened his mouth to say it his entire lunch came up instead. That was the end of any form of acting career.

"I'm not putting on some costume," Jess says and Patty purses his lips. "No way."

"It's for the show!"

"I don't give a damn!"

Everyone stops and when Jess looks back at Rory she's biting her lip, looking concerned rather than amused now. He looks desperately at her and forces his glance back.

"I'll sing for...whatever the hell this is," he forces himself to say. "But just..."

"Alright, alright," Patty says and Jess lets out a sigh of relief. "But you'd better give a good performance!"

She sits back at the piano, starting to play, and Jess can see the audience still whispering. A spark of defiance flies up. They want a performance? He'll give them a performance!

Jess waits for everyone to start singing, gradually opening his mouth and joining in and sticks his hands in his pockets. As he joins the chorus he brings out a lighter, flaring it on the word shine. Laughter and whispers start spreading across the room and Rory is shaking her head, but smiling as well. Encouraged, Jess carries on, lifting up the lighter and swaying a little.

Finally, Kirk looks over and shouts, "Fire hazard! I'm on it, Patty!" Ungainly, he jumps onto the stage, falling onto the mostly-empty box of costumes and over the room's laughter Patty exclaims, "Oh, get up Kirk! And you -" she says sternly to Jess "we've all had enough of your hooligan ways!"

Jess almost bursts out laughing. Hooligan ways? Jeez, have these people never been beyond their backyard? They should come to New York if it want to see real hooliganism. Controlling himself, Jess shrugs and says, "Just trying to add a little something to the show."

"Thank you, there'll be sparklers," Patty says and Jess practically strains himself holding in laughter.

"And those are much safer than my lighter," he says seriously and, ignoring him, Patty starts to go back to her piano.

"Okay, everyone, I think we're done with that show. Time for variety hour!"

Variety hour, huh? Either inspiration or stupidity seizes Jess and without thinking he snatches up a spare pair of sunglasses, unpops two buttons on his shirt and grabs a sequinned feather boa before loudly breaking into some Bowie.

"I'm back on Suffragette City! Wham bam, thank you ma'am!"

Loud shouts and whoops echo around the room as Jess runs down from the stage and jumps around the room, the boa swinging wildly and the sunglasses slipping down his face. Pressing them back up, he sparks the lighter up again to add a little edge, or whatever you want to call it. Patty is staring, for once struck dumb, and with a great leap Jess jumps back on the stage and finishes the chorus, "Oh, my Suffragette City, oh my Suffragette City! Suffragette!"

To really make their eyes pop, Jess gets out a cigarette. He's mostly given them up but still has a spare in his pocket. He lifts it, pretending to light it and ceases as he sees Patty glare, shoving it back in his pocket. Picking up a random tennis racket off the floor, Jess strums on it as his guitar and whistles the final bar before singing once more, "Suffragette!" There's a shocked silence and then spattered applause starts and Rory gets up in her seat, cheering. Jess takes a wide bow, dropping the tennis racket, and tips an imaginary hat.

"Encore!" Rory calls, laughing so hard she can hardly get the words out. "Encore for Jess Mariano's one man show!"

"There will be no encore, Rory Gilmore!" Patty says sharply. "I think Mr Mariano is finished here for the night!"

"Would you say I had a little talent?" Jess asks, panting a little as he catches his breath.

"I could see you on Broadway," Patty allows and Jess thinks he maybe sees some amusement in her eye. "But not necessarily on the stage."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Jess grins, straightening up and dropping the sunglasses in the box. "Night, Patty."

Rory takes his arm as they stroll out, laughing as they hear Babette shout, "Didn't I tell you he was a gnome-kicker? He can't be trusted!"

"Wow," Rory says in admiration once they're at a safe distance from the studio. "I was just teasing you when I called you Fred Astaire."

"Astaire's got nothing on me."

"You were amazing!" Rory exclaims, stopping to put her arms around him. "I was impressed!"

"Yeah, well...they said they wanted a show."

"Not complaining. I only wish I had a camera."

"Can't tell you how thankful I am you didn't."

"Remembering it's just as good."

Rory lifts up a corner of the feather boa Jess still has around his neck and, laughing, Jess lifts it up and puts it around her neck.

"Looks better on you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I wore one once with a tiara."

"I'd like to see that."

He leans down to kiss her and Rory holds him tighter, eagerly kissing him back before breaking away.

"You know, it's a good thing you didn't smoke that cigarette or I wouldn't have kissed you. You know I hate that taste."

"I wasn't really going to light it," Jess jokes and then, with a grin, "But maybe you should kiss me again, you know, to make sure."

"Right," Rory says seriously. "Just to be sure."

She kisses him more than once, making absolutely certain, and Jess cups her head in his hand. She looks beautiful, even with the silly feather boa. If anything, it adds to it all. He wants to take her somewhere, be with her, do more than make out on the couch with Luke interrupting every five minutes. Rory gazes back at him, her blue eyes shining, and Jess feels his heart yearn too. He's never cared more for anyone, he knows. He wonders if he can ever say it.

"Jess..."

"Let's go somewhere."

"Where?" Rory asks reasonably and Jess shrugs helplessly. Where the hell are they going to go - her place? Lorelai will be camped out right by the bedroom door.

"Guess back to mine," Jess says resignedly and Rory smiles, looking a little daring as she says, "Hey, we'll figure something out. We'll find somewhere."

"Oh yeah?" Jess asks, brightening up and Rory laughs, sounding a little nervous.

"I don't mean tonight...I'm not um, ready..."

"That's okay," Jess says quickly and she nods.

"But sometime, I swear. Keep thinking what you're thinking."

"I don't have a choice."

They walk back to Luke's, hand-in-hand, and Rory says nonchalantly, "That shirt looks good like that."

"It does, huh?" Jess grins, using his spare hand to touch the exposed skin. He has to force himself not to think about Rory touching there or it's doubtful he'll even make it back to the apartment. He knows he'll need a cold shower later.

Rory answers by pressing herself closer to his side. They walk silently for a moment until Jess releases a breath and says, "So, Almost Famous tonight?"

"Jess," Rory groans, stopping. "We've seen that a million times!"

"Oh come on! I humiliated myself for you tonight!"

"Hey, I never asked for a Bowie concert!" Rory argued but she laughs. "I loved it though. Okay, okay, we'll watch Almost Famous."

"Thank you."

"And order from Sandeep's?"

"Rory, you know it stinks out the entire apartment!"

"But if I have to see Kate Hudson try and commit suicide again..."

"Fine, you've got yourself a deal."

"Thank you."

"You drive a hard again, Rory Gilmore," Jess says, stopping to kiss her, and Rory smiles as they break apart.

"Yes I do and you love it."

Jess kisses her again in answer. He does love it. He loved doing the Bowie riff for her, he loves all the things he does with her. Maybe he even loves her...what does Jess know? But right now he's with her, holding her to him, and it's more than Jess ever wished for. All the other junk he's going through doesn't seem important. Rory's with him, the night is theirs and Jess knows he's never been so happy before. He hopes she knows. Rory squeezes his hand, Jess kisses her head and they walk together into the night.

#Gilmore Girls #rory gilmore #jess mariano #literati #mine

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jq37 · 5 years

Note

i know you posted your thoughts on the big arguing scene in “we need to talk about pete” but i was wondering if you were going to post a full breakdown? that episode was a lot and i love hearing your thoughts on eps. ignore this if you have done a breakdown and i’m dumb and just missed it lol

**spoilers for the war of bugs and rats and we need to talk about pete**

What’s up denizens of Magic NYC? Now, I unfortunately live in normal NYC where I have to pay bills and stuff so I’ve been MIA with recaps for the past few eps but, no sweat. We’re gonna do a double feature of the above two eps and then I’ll group in the last battle episode with the upcoming episode. So lets catch up on what’s been going on in The Unsleeping City There’s a LOT to get through so vámanos y'all.

First up, we have our big bug fight in Queens, which Sophie enters with a camelback full of box wine because Emily is Emily.

“I’ve heard of gentrification but this is crazy!”

Brennan enjoys making those gross, chittering, bug noises way too much.

Have we talked about Pete’s cowboy hat? Because, for real, what is up with Pete’s cowboy hat? It seems absolutely apropos of nothing. Was he just like, “Sick,” and he decided to wear it everywhere? That seems to be how he makes all of his decisions.

“Butthole 2: Electric Boogaloo.”

Emily clocks the cat *immediately*. Like to the point where I’m almost thinking, “Did this cat exist before Emily mentioned looking for one?” And I want to say yes because La Gran Gata seems very fleshed out, specific, and intentional. But folks, we are living in a post-Avanash world so idk what to think. (Edit: The cat does have a mini now that I’ve gotten to that but idk, that insert shot could have been shot post ep so like, who knows?)

Anyway, Emily’s entire mission objective immediately becomes saving this cat she’s vaguely aware of.

“5E you crazy.”

The Cast, Knowing Emily just rolled a 25 and still has a 1d8 Bless in Her Back Pocket if She Needs It: Brennan, Just Ask.

The horror on Emily’s face when she realizes that she just called an attack on the cat cocoon.

So Emily goes off on a very Emily side quest to rescue a random cat but happens to unlock a very cool NPC–La Gran Gata–who is like the spirit of all the bodega cats out there. Sophie immediately calls upon the entirety of her limited Spanish skills to try and make friends with the cat, and succeeds.

The, “To arms, to arms my brothers!” thing kills me every time. Are all rats just Like That? Is that what they’re like when they’re out and about too?

Kingston rolling a nat 20 to literally walk across the store is wild.

Oh also, Pete failed a wild magic surge roll which just lets him fly. So far, those wild magic surges have really been working out for him.

Anyway, Bug Boss Becky turns Ricky into a “buff-ass” dog.

Zac playing dog-Ricky with almost exactly the same self-awareness (or lack thereof) as normal-Ricky is so funny. He’s an Akita and I was expecting Dalmatian but that makes sense too. Ricky, the very good boy, attacks Becky and–as a Sentinel–stops her in her tracks.

Emily does a ton of damage and Brennan, about to describe her attack, is like, “Are you still drunk?” Emily shuts down the opportunity to look cooler and is like, “I am a messy, drunk bitch. Describe that.” Emily isn’t here to be cool. Emily is here to roleplay.

I had never heard the word brindled before now and Brennan uses it to describe two separate animals in this ep.

Siobhan rolls a nat 20 to dispel magic on Ricky which is objectively good but also I would have loved for him to be a dog a little longer. Also, this moment makes me really, really want to get some backstory on Misty. Like, clearly there are some serious Fae Shenanigans going on with her and I need specifics yesterday.

Also, Ricky comes back with pointier ears and wolfier senses and I’m just picturing Channing Tatum in Jupiter Ascending.

Before I forget, Sophie, Pete, and Misty yoink magical items from the magic bodega within the bodega La Gran Gata opened up. Sophie’s is a magic ring that amps up her punches. Misty took a mirror and Pete took a grill (like for your teeth). Not sure what those do yet.

The fact that this whole fight wasn’t under the Umbral Arcana and there are people out there that remember is a little concerning for me. I can’t quite tell if it’s the sort of thing that will come back or more of a warning of what can happen if the U.A. goes down again.

Post-fight, Sophie asks La Gran Gata for mismatched David Bowie eyes like the cat has. Siobahn goes, “That’s what you’re gonna ask? You drunk bitch.” But Sophie has her wish granted. I’m sure that won’t raise any questions with people who have known her her entire life.

“She’s gonna fuck that cat.”

So the fight’s over and they realize that the Key to the City is missing which I can’t imagine is a good thing.

This brings us to the RP ep, We Need to Talk About Pete, which picks up directly where the previous ep ended.

Ally and Emily go for the exact same joke of getting Guinness’s post-fight. Kingston–as a medical professional, Vox Populi, and sanest adult of this troupe–loudly objects (smacking the beers out of Pete’s hands multiple times) and wants to know what the hell is going on with the bugs they just fought.

Sidenote: Sophie took a level in Warlock with La Gran Gata as her patron because of *course* she did. I wonder if this was the plan from the beginning or if Emily was watching all her friends spellcasting and started getting the jitters from magic user withdrawal.

Murph’s “What?” face when Emily says, “I’ll be waiting, but not in an impatient, desperate way,” is gold.

They search the bodega and find a thing of 1000 Hour Energy and Kugrash gives it to Ricky over Pete’s objections. They also find Holy Grail Laundry Detergent (Kingston pays for it), The Grill I mentioned earlier (Kingston hates this), and this bagel.

All the magic users show up. Alejandro wants an explanation pronto and everyone points a finger at Pete who explains everything in his typical, nonchalant, vague, kinda spaced out way which Alejandro is not digging at all. He starts to go off on the enormity of the situation and Pete starts dropping acid.

I’m gonna stop here for a sec to talk about how Ally is playing Pete. There are moments when I feel like Ally is doing something as a comedian for a bit. And there’s kind of a sense of, is this funny? Obviously. But what are the in game implications of this move? Like the running joke of Pete constantly being high on something is funny, out of game. But, in game, it’s massively concerning. And I’m really curious about where Ally is choosing to draw the line between doing the funny thing and doing the prudent thing. I almost said the in-character thing but Ally made a character so consistently bonkers that whatever he does could plausibly be the in-character thing. Pete is kind of a massive disaster.

Anyway, Alejandro drives home the point that Pete’s actions have consequences and have caused actual deaths at this point. Pete’s magic is internally going wonky as he gets more distressed (I really wanted to see a wild magic surge fail here but alas). But he’s still outwardly like a 4 on the giving a damn scale when the situation is a 13 out of 10. Pete is only half listening to this because he’s halfway out the door, smoking. Alejandro plans with Kingston to discuss Pete later.

Misty, always sowing seeds of chaos, suggests Alejandro stock up on Juul pods before they stop selling them completely. Kingston hates this (this is basically his mood for the episode).

Outside, Pete gets a text from Priya which ends with them planning a meet up for later after leaving her on read for a while. Pete dips without saying anything to anyone but Kingston who ignores him (and also Sophie who Emily hilariously guilts Ally into including out of character). Dipping on the conversation about how to fix YOUR mess isn’t the wisest move but Pete isn’t the wisest guy.

In the meantime, Ricky does the Twilight Bark to summon a dalmatian (yes!) to help him find the stolen key to the city. Kugrash turns into a busted ass dalmatian who has trouble keeping up.

Ricky doesn’t have the plate mail armor that usually makes a Paladin so unstealthy but he is so hot as to have the same lack of stealthiness which is one of my favorite adaptations of the game for this setting. Anyway, Ricky does the superhero thing of running through the city, helping everyone with a problem along the way, and loses the key in the Financial District which smells like death (feels about right).

Siobahn playing Misty as, “Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t realize it was Emma Lazarus,” when, in reality, she was the first person who made the connection was great. S/o to ppl who separate player and character knowledge. Misty partied w/ Emma of course because she partied with every historical figure that’s passed through NYC since she showed up.

Post adventure, people need to go to their day jobs. Misty has a +10 to performance but rolling a 3 is rolling a 3. It’s not her best work. Later, her assistant brings her holly, silver, and assorted other stuff which sounds like Fae BS if I’ve ever heard it. Misty cuts her off before she can elaborate more. I know we’re getting a secret spilling episode next time so I’m really hoping we get some Misty lore because she is being frustratingly cagey. She talks so much but says so little that means anything.

Kugrash sneaks into his son David’s house (while Emily learns a rat fact she clearly didn’t want to know) and Murph and Brennan tag team go for the proverbial emotional jugular.

Murph rolls a nat 20 on his investigate and so he gets a lot of his old files and puts together that Robert is Robert Moses–a famous historical figure in NY who I actually heard about for the first time very recently. Or maybe I should say infamous. He did a lot with NY infrastructure–especially highways–(Emily connects this to the Highway Hex immediately) and he wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type. His bread and butter was working the system. There’s a Pulitzer winning book called The Power Broker about how he was able to amass power and influence. I don’t know enough about NY history to run my mouth off about the guy but the little I do know is in character with his T.U.S. incarnation. Also, just FYI, irl this dude died in the 80s. So, you know. That’s interesting.

Brennan, I guess: Why invent new bad guys when history is full of terrible people I just have to give magic to?

Brennan, continuing his tradition of letting people get emotionally destroyed by nat 20s, has Murph find a crushing letter from David to Kug which was never mailed.

Note: So, as I was writing this, my video timed out right at the line, “I don’t expect this letter to find you before my funeral,” which is kinda good bc idk if this is what I need at 1 AM. Anyway, back to the pain.

The letter reveals that David has devoted his life to stopping crooks like him (Kug) and that he’s mostly upset about how his leaving has affected the younger, more fragile Wally.

“I leave the letter because I’ll remember it.” Yeah I bet you will.

It looks like Kug is gonna confront Wally next ep which I am now even more excited to see.

So let’s move onto the SECOND big gut-punch of the episode. Kingston goes down to the station to give a statement about the Santa Incident. He sees a shit elemental in a lineup which isn’t super relevant to the main events but I can’t not mention something like that.

Anyway, guess what? Kingston’s ex (Liz) isn’t dead! She’s an attorney for the justice system of The Unsleeping City and she’s pissed the hell off. During their interview, he stops the tape recorder to cuss out Kingston for going on a “date” with Misty and for getting her involved in all the magical junk which means she has to do things like fingerprint shit elementals instead of being on track to be D.A. like she originally was. The way she described it made it sound like she was press ganged into it which seems like it shouldn’t be how this works, you know? Is there no blue pill option here? Also, not to be all grass is greener but I actually am a lawyer in NY (closer to Kug’s job, minus the crime) and I would swap with Liz in a heartbeat.

The fact that anything Kingston says as Vox is per se admissible is a cool detail.

Sophie fights an old man (Jackson) in a CVS and joins a monastery which sounds like a shitpost but it isn’t. With La Gran Gata’s blessing she is now a member of the Order of the Concrete Fist.

I saw the Staten Island joke coming the second Brennan started talking but it was still hysterical when it landed.

At the same time, Pete is getting knuckle tats because, sure. And he also goes to see Priya who I am baffled was with him for any length of time. Maybe it’s the artist thing?

Also, Sophie keeps postponing her meeting with Mario which is concerning to me. The story is still happening when you’re not interacting with it. Brennan specifically said when she texted him that she got no response which doesn’t make me feel good about what’s going on with him.

Ricky has three super jacked, fratty firefighter bros, all named John who are like woke as hell. I wish I could follow the dude around for a day because every single facet of his life is wild.

Well, this episode promised we were gonna talk about Pete so let’s talk about Pete.

The gang, sans Pete, meet up with the magical powers that be to discus the destruction the newest Vox his leaving in his wake.

Sidenote, wild that Sophie has been magic for like 15 minutes and got to go to this meeting.

Alejandro wants to know what the plan is for if Pete’s powers go off the rails again. Kingston, who has clearly seen Old Yeller, offers the most drastic solution immediately: if it comes to it, we take him out. (Cut to Ally’s “Yikes” face). Kug, Sophie, and Ricky push back on that.

Misty, hilariously (and also suspiciously), is mainly concerned about NY because she needs theater to keep happening. This woman is chaotic something and I’m not convinced it’s chaotic good yet.

Anyway, I already did my big write-up on this part of the episode, but I’ll say it again: Kingston is right. He’s harsh but he’s right. This is some Phoenix Force BS that’s happening and do you know how that arc ends (the OG one, not the million other Phoenix Sagas that have happened since)? It ends with Jean Grey killing herself so she doesn’t lose control and eat another planet. Ricky is too dangerous for his own good and he doesn’t seem to have the emotional maturity to care (or at least to care at the correct level). Like, he was a drug dealer when this started which is already not ideal. He caused a huge mess and then just bounced without trying to help fix it. He thought that a week was enough time for human casualties to be water under the bridge. Frankly, not considering the nuclear option and just having to figure out if killing him is something the group is willing to do on the fly would be the more irresponsible option.

And not including Pete in the discussion would bother me more if he hadn’t openly blown off every serious discussion people have tried to have with him so far. If he’s not going to take things seriously, it makes sense they don’t invite him to the serious discussions.

The version of this story where Pete accidentally gets a bunch of people killed, finds out what he did, cries about it for a full day, and then finds out they’re talking about possibly killing him is a story where Pete is more sympathetic imo. But still, finding out that people talked about killing you under any circumstances has got to be rough.

IMO, the order of things that should be done right now are (1) putting magical training wheels on Pete, (2a) getting Pete trained or his powers transferred if it’s possible/he wants out, (2b) either way, getting Pete into therapy (like, he needed therapy before he got magic. now it’s just a matter of life and death–besides just his own), (3) talking to Pete again about the stakes and telling him point blank but not in while heated that there’s the possibility of a scenario where his powers go out of control and you have to understand that at that point it’s a matter of saving as many lives as possible. Like, Kingston can say, with conviction, “If I go rogue, you should do the same to me.” They’re in the same boat. Kingston’s just been rowing longer. Well, similar boats anyway. I imagine the Vox Populi powers are less inherently chaotic. And maybe the knowledge that a nuclear option is on the table would make Pete not want the job or want him to have his powers muted or something. Cool. Then you have that discussion at that point. Just, these are the conversations that need to happen. And maybe his own mortality will be the thing that helps get Pete’s head in the game.

What jewel did Ale take out of his pocket during this conversation? Taking note of that. (Juul, not jewel. Duh. Thx thethief )

Pete gets in touch w/ Alejandro’s granddaughters who tell him that Alejandro’s still pretty pissed (which is surprising to Pete but like, bro. People died). Then, Robert shows up to sweet talk Pete and show him the video (that he somehow has) of Kingston talking at the Pete Meeting. When I was watching this the first time I was like, “How long before this blows up in their face–oh, almost immediately. Cool.”

He takes Pete to his vampire nightclub and hits him with Pete’s own “I didn’t create the demand” line that you just know Brennan put a pin in to hit Pete with that Uno Reverse card.

Robert tries to get Pete to summon Nod and then just does it forcibly with some kind of blood magic when Pete is hesitant. Pete wild magic surges, kills a bunch of vamps, and Nod (super injured by being in the waking world) teleports them both to the subway.

The group (including Alejandro) meets them there so they can catch the L train to Nod but Epona shows up. And you already know from Fantasy High that Brennan is on the ACAB train (or is that AFCAB?). Epona is now wearing a crooked badge��crooked badge for a crooked cop. She wants Nod. No can do. The gang gets ready to–to quote Mr. Cubby-make some bacon while Alejandro tries to cast a spell to summon a train to Nod (the place not the person).

So I’ll see y’all next time (whenever that is) for some subway fighting and some backstory unlocking!

#asks #bbistrashbutwhatevs #dimension 20 #the unsleeping city #d20

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linkspooky · 6 years

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could you do a meta on dabi,hawks and endeavor theres something interesting about thoses three there was even a chapter about those three theres a common occurance about them that i can't put into words

There is a connection between all three of them.

So a follow up from my last post, there’s a question of agency between the three of them. [x]

Definition of Agency

What agency means is essentially the freedom and capacity to live or act in a defined world. In a literature sense, we can interpret this in a few different ways. We could look at a specific character in a novel, and see his/her ability to make choices, act freely, and control their respective lives within the novel. The character is able to engage socially, take action on desired things, and have control of their own life. [x].

Basically, let’s look at it from a different angle than the last post though. When it comes to the connection between Endeavor, Dabi, and Hawks, just as important as Agency, their ability to make choices is motivation.

Definition of Motivation

In literature, “motivation” is defined as a reason behind a character’s specific action or behavior. This type of behavior is characterized by the character’s own consent and willingness to do something.

There are two types of motivation: one is intrinsic, while the other one is extrinsic. Intrinsic motivation is linked to personal pleasure, enjoyment and interest, while extrinsic motivation is linked to numerous other possibilities. Extrinsic motivation comes from some physical reward such as money, power, or lust. Intrinsic motivation, on the other hand, is inspired by some internal reward such as knowledge, pride, or spiritual or emotional peace or wellbeing, etc. [x]

So basically now we’re looking at the characters from two angles, number one what choices do they have room to make, and number two in those limited choices what motivates them to eventually make the choices that they do.

So, I would say the connection between the three of them is that they all chose to pursue being a hero in some way, yes even Dabi who is a villain cares about the idea of becoming a hero.

Now Endeavor’s are the hardest to discern, since his reasoning to want to be a hero is vague at best. Trying my best to discern though, it seems that Endeavor one, worked really hard to be a hero and believed his hard work should have been rewarded with some sort of feeling of accomplishment. It’s the same reason that Bakugo freaked out so badly when Todoroki did not face him at his strongest in the tournament, because his own feeling of accoplishment was wrong because he didn’t believe he earned it.

So, it’s really hard to discern, but the idea of being number one itself was soething that Endeavor was after, and facing the fact that really no matter how hard he strives he would be at his limit and unable to surpass All Might who was just better and stronger than him in any way took a number out on his ego. This is my best attempt at explanation, it’s not really clear what Endeavor wants out of being a hero.

It’s a thematic idea that is explored in MHA at least, the desire to be the strongest. Whether or not that desire itself is a good or bad thing, but also because that strong drive can drive others to do terrible things.

The best way I can explain it though is that Endeavor believes he’s entitled to a certain sense of accomplishment after all that hard work he did to be number one, but because there was such a huge gap in front of him he was never able to reach that accomplishment and thus he took his feelings out on the others around him.

Basically, despite Horikoshi trying to present Endeavor as a character motivated by heroic means at this point, pretty much every bit of his past characterization contradicts this. Endeavor is pretty consistently characterized as an abuser, it’s all about his feelings and his own sense of accomplishment and worth, and he uses Shoto and everybody else in his family to those ends. There’s malice in the way he treats Shoto, especially when Shoto implies he has desires of his own. Basically, Endeavor attacked his family out of a perceived lack of respect from the world, and a perceived lack of feeling of accomplishment which he thought he was owed due to all of his hard work. So, there’s something especially toxic about Endeavor’s motivation to be a hero, one could even call it toxic masculinity if MHA were like… more thematically consistent about anything.

But let’s simplify for a moment and say Endeavor’s motivation for becoming a hero is really in line with the society of quirks we’re presented with in MHA. That he has a strong quirk, and he works hard, therefore he should rise to the top with his strong quirk and be stronger than anyone else, and defeat bad guys and that is what a hero is. Endeavor followed that line of thinkng from society perfectly, but he wasn’t able to become the strongest.

He’s obsessed with quirks and strength the same way society is, and even forced a quirk marriage which was said to be a negative aspect of humanity’s budding obsession with quirks and wanting quirks to be stronger.

So, Endeavor’s motivation for becoming a hero is entirely personal. However, Endeavor had the most agency to make his choice out of the three I’m presenting here. There was no pressuring circumstances for him to do what he did, except for the pressure that Endeavor put on himself. Endeavor was basically free to choose to become anything, and he chose to become a hero. Unlike Dabi, and Hawks he could have just become a hero and been satisfied with that especially due to the lack of external pressure but it was never enough for him.

Endeavor who had the most agency to choose, also destroyed the agency of others around him, his own family. He may be responsible for creating Touya/Dabi (the rest of this post is going to go forward on this assumption) but he definitely used his wealth of agency, fame, money, resources, in order to completely destroy and cut short the agency of both Rei and Todoroki for his own purposes.

Also it’s important to note that villains are usually the ones which limit the agency of others. Villains seize agency in order to act and create the circumstances, and heroes respond to those circumstances. Except the greatest antagonist to Shoto’s own arcs, the one that created the circumstances that he has to respond to, is the hero Endeavor. Then next on the line is Hawks. Hawks also has shaky at best motivations for being a hero, and partially selfish ones but for entirely different reasons.

As elaborated on in the last post, Hawks was raised by the hero system, saved fro a troubled home, and told because he had talent he simply had to become a hero.

So, if Hawks has empty motivations in this case it’s because his own agency is limited. From childhood he’s almost always done what others have asked for him, and his ability to make his own decisions, or be informed by his own motivations was pretty much nonexistant. His name is his hero name, he’s entirely Hawks.

Why is Hawks always resolving things on his own? He’s been taught by the system that there’s absolutely nobody else he can rely on. He’s been used as a tool from the beginning so the best way he can adapt to this is by making himself into the most efficient tool possible. “Well, I’ll still be a tool in the end but at least I’ll be a pretty damn good tool.” with the idea that if he does his job well enough he might be able to break free from the system that he’s become such a vital part of.

Hawks has to work as efficiently as possible, he’s obsessed with saving others and being the best even if he has to do all the work on his own and only stick his sidekicks with clean up. He’s basically tied to the job, and also of the idea of doing everything all on his own, simply because he has the ability to do so.

The irony being that Hawks obsesses over the idea of freedom, he works tirelessly so others can be free, he encourages them to be free and not waste themselves, and yet Hawks has no freedom of his own, specifically because he was born with those wings. The symbol of his freedom his wings, are also a curse to him.

So, Hawks entire motivation is agency, he wants to have agency, to be motivated to do things for his own reasons and not fro the sake of othes. He believes that people who are strong enough to fight for their own reasons are the ones that can be relied on and put people at ease but he is not one of them.

Which would explain Hawks strange opinion of Endeavor, even though once again Endeavor is somebody who created a broken home, a child abuser, the same kind of home that Hawks came from and is responsible for his current situation.

Simply put, Endeavor had agency and drive and he was able to decide those things for himself, something that Hawks is fundamentally lacking in and unable to see himself as able to do.

Hawks is so exhausted he can’t even bring himself to try, and he falsely sees Endeavor as somebody who did try even when it was impossible. So, he envies that part of him. Even after wearing himself out completely to become somebody who saves almost everyone and willingly sacrifices all of those feathers at a drop of a hat, Hawks still does not believe he’s done enough and lacks the energy to go further, and thinks he has to rely on someone like Endeavor with a big flashy power in order to set people at ease. Hawks from the beginning was setting up and manipulating Endeavor to be a symbol. He pretty much says so.

Hawks is more suited for the position, he’s more political, tactical, he genuinely wants to save people, he’s helpful to them and a friendly face, the only thing he’s lacking is being a total powerhouse which is what society thinks it needs right now, so he sets up Endeavor in his place while he works behind the scenes.

So, what Hawks is motivated by is being powerful enough to put people at ease, however the choices Hawks makes in order to fulfill that motivation are completely opposite.

His motivation is to have more agency as a hero, but his choices are always one that specifically limit his own agency. If Endeavor is a character that has all the agency in the world and abuses it to limit the agency of others, then Hawks is a character that limits his own agency over and over again even though all he desires is freedom. Both of these characters are making these choices because they revolve around the concept of being a hero.

Hawks also, was limited in his agency, in what he could become because of the circumstances of his birth and he was born with a body and quirk ideal for becoming a hero, and he still feels pressure and aftereffects of that upbringing even as an adult.

Then finally we bring ourselves to Dabi/Touya.

If Shoto and Hawks were born to become heroes, then Dabi specifically was born not to be a hero. His body would never be able to handle it. Not only to the point of not having an ideal combination of quirks and being a failure like Natsu and Fuyumi, but to the point of being physically disabled. His greater fire actively harms him because of the lack of his body and his own constitution, and the person who decided to make this risky choice to blend quirks was Endeavor, not caring about the child’s well being but rather how the child was born to fulfill his own ambitions. So, Dabi was given a shitty body since birth which limited his choices of what he could become in a really quirk obsessed society, and his father did this on purpose to him and threw him out as a failure when he did not turn out the right way.

So, the person so far born with the least agency in their situation is Touya. Whether or not he wanted to become a hero is not really a choice to him because his quirk destroys his own body, and his father dismissed him as a failure.

He’s also the inverse of Hawks, he was adopted became a hero whether he wanted to or not because he was born with a quirk that was ideal for the job. Dabi was abandoned and neglected because he was born with a quirk unideal for being a hero, and also his body would actively be destroyed if he pursued that path.

So, his response is to believe as Stain did that because he was excluded, that society itself was wrong about him and wrong about heroes.

Dabi’s introduction tells us two things, he doesn’t like people who aren’t dedicated to a cause, and who kill without reason like Himiko instantly being put off by her.

Second that he’s driven the same way that the hero killer is. That even acting as a villain, he wants to make a society where heroes act like real heroes.

It’s even apparent in his taunts to Aizawa, he tells Aizawa to act like a proper hero, to save his students. What’s a better call to action for a hero anyway than a proper antagonist.

He praises Aizawa for acting properly as a hero should. So, of allt he characters Dabi had the least amount of agency, that’s not to say he was forced to doing what he did, but he was the least suited to becoming a hero, and even then there’s still some part of Dabi that wants heroes to act properly, and there’s a cause he acts for that wants to affect some positive change.

Yet, at the same time born with the least agency, still motivated by cause and wanting heroes to act like heroes, Dabi is also of the three the character that burns up the most agency. Villains often have the most agency, because they don’t care whose agency they trample over to get what they want. In order for Dabi to have his current freedom, he had to walk over others and kill them, that became a necessary step to acheiving his goals in his mind.

Let’s say Dabi is acting like a vigilante here and giving him the most benefit of the doubt. That Stain did not like villains that acted without just cause either, so a bunch of low brand thieves only out to steal for themselves aren’t doing anything to improve society so they’re unnecessary, they’re in the way so Dabi burns them. Dabi’s ultimate goal of improving society becomes built on their sacrifice then, his agency comes from taking theirs away.

This is something Dabi is questioned about twice, you’re taking away living breathing people from the world, people with connections, all for your own purposes. No other member of the villain’s league is really questioned on their murders the way Dabi is. Because Dabi is the one who is trying to justify his killings as being for an improvement to society, the most out of anybody in the league.

Dabi’s own life was cut short, and his response now is to cut short the lives of others, for some perceived higher purpose of his. However, even still he differs from Endeavor, because of all the implicaitons that Dabi himself knows what he’s doing is wrong is feels guilty about it, and is actively destroying his own body in the process, Endeavor and Shoto both have one burn scar, Dabi’s entire body is covered in them.

Dabi’s too are inherently selfish and self driven motivation. He wants to correct the hero system yes, but only because the hero system is what created him, and he knows those cracks exist because he’s the one that fell through them. As much as it would benefit everybody, just like Hawks it’s still a deeply personal grudge created by his own circumstances.

So, Endeavor sacrificed the agency of others. Hawks sacrifices his own agency. And in his wild bid for freedom from his circumstances, Dabi is the one who makes the most radical choices. Born the son of a hero, he did the unthinkable and cast away all of society’s restrictions to become a villain instead. In order to walk that path he actively devours the agency of others around him. At the same time, he’s also limiting his own agency because he’s pushing his body and mind to their natural in born limits. Dabi acts both self destructive, and destructive of everything else around him. In order to gain agency, he destroys himself and others to get the agency he was denied when he was younger.

Yet, all three of these characters are still connected by their want to be a hero. They share a revolving motivation though each of them took a drastically different path.

#metasks #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi is a todoroki #dabi todoroki #endeavor #hawks #Anonymous

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kleenexwoman · 5 years

Text

ONCE UPON A TIME IN OLD SCANDINAVIA

Men meet in meadhalls for more than meat and food. Friend and foe, Christian and heathen, all drink and eat side by side and share sips of Odin’s tipple. Aziraphale liked it because it made men mellow, and Crowley liked it because it could make men run mad. He advised Aziraphale against the fermented shark, and filled his flask with the mead-mistress’s gift. This brew was sweet, with spices instead of hops. It tasted like the honey Aziraphale had lapped from Crowley’s fingers in a Roman oyster bar. Demon and angel in the skins of man agreed to travel together.

Denmark was damp, but the path was flat over pastures and gentle rivers. Aziraphale was much more relaxed than a Christian missionary usually would have been in the company of a spice trader.

“You’re really not with the Vikings?” Aziraphale asked, as soon as they were out of earshot of any humans.

“No, no. Someone else’s lot. Not that I have a problem with church-sacking, I’ve just been on assignment in the East. Messing with some prophet’s scribe, sowing doubt into the hearts of believers...the uszh.”

“Sounds right up your cowpath.” Aziraphale miracled a fresh cowpat away from his boot. “What brings you out here, then? Last I remembered, you didn’t like the damp.”

Crowley grimaced. “Gabriel showed up. Don’t like running into him.”

“I don’t blame you--oh!” Aziraphale stumbled and swayed.

Crowley caught him and helped him to his feet. “Alright, angel?”

“My ears popped. Ooh, that’s unpleasant.” Aziraphale clung to Crowley. Crowley discreetly tasted the air. It had the ozone scent of a storm combined with an odd mushroomy funk that gave him an electric little shiver. He turned his head for a whiff of the angel’s skin. Roses and sandalwood, Aziraphale’s natural odor--nothing else, and nobody else.

“Health and happiness to you, good men, health and happiness.” A wizened old man tapped his way up the path, stick held out before him on the road. One eye squinted beneath the broad brim of his hat.

“Er, health and happiness, brother,” Aziraphale replied. Crowley raised a hand in annoyed greeting.

“Got any grub you could share with a tired old traveler?” the old one asked as he levered himself slowly onto a rock. “Haven’t eaten all day, and these old bones aren’t what they used to be.”

“We were just about to stop for lunch ourselves. We’ll be happy to share.” Aziraphale didn’t take his eyes off the old man, even as they sat. Crowley sprawled in the soft grass. The angel opened his knapsack and passed out the loaves and fishes. He’d made little sandwiches on dark crusty rye bread with smoked herring and that thick Danish butter that tasted like cheese. “Eat all you like. I’ve got more.”

Crowley passed the mead around. The wanderer’s eye lit up when he tasted what was within. “Now that’s the stuff.” He took another long pull, and then one that defied physics. “This ain’t hooked up to the sea or nothing, is it?”

“Nah, no nasty tricks. I just like having as much to drink as I want,” Crowley said. The wanderer grunted his approval and passed the skin to Aziraphale.

A raven approached and gave a grave caw. “Hello, Brother Raven.” Aziraphale threw it a chunk of herring. Crowley watched him. He didn’t notice the other raven sneaking up on his sandwich until it was no longer in his mouth.

“You b--”

“I have more, Crowley,” Aziraphale interrupted him pointedly, “be nice to the birds.” It sounded like an order, and it sounded more strained than the angel’s usual gentle chiding.

“--eautiful creature, enjoy that.” The mead made its way back to Crowley, who drank deep.

Cool wind ruffled the grass, grey clouds darkened the sun. Thunder rumbled in the distance and resolved into footsteps. “I see you’ve found friends, Dad.” The new arrival was all barrel chest and beard, strawberry-blonde braids and a wide smile. “Beat me up the hill, he did. Don’t fall for his frailty. He’s as spry as anything.”

“Thanks for the lunch, boys. You’re good people.” The old man let his son help him from the ground. He grasped his staff and pounded it on the ground, once. Now it was not a simple walking stick, but a sharp spear with a wicked point and runes of power writ in the wood. “But I’m still gonna have to ask ya to leave my worshipers right the fuck alone.”

“I just got here,” Crowley said. “Honest.”

Aziraphale swallowed hard and gathered his things up, slowly and deliberately. He would have liked to be a pacifist if his job didn’t occasionally preclude the possibility, but he was far from an idiot. He kept a small angelic dagger in his pack as well as a normal knife for cutting bread and the like. He listened to local myths with an earnest ear, and had managed to talk many monks into preserving them for posterity. “I’d rather not fight, if that’s all right with you.” His hand curled around the blessed blade. It wouldn’t kill a god, but it would give him a chance to get a few licks in if things went really cowpat-shaped.

The beefcake in braids twirled his elaborate hammer idly. “I like a good fight sometimes.”

Lightning struck a nearby pine tree. A branch blazed downwards and fell on the road. Aziraphale felt hot breath on his neck and an impossibly cold blade on his throat. “Got your Tweet, bro,” the newcomer drawled.

Crowley whipped off his sunglasses. His slitted yellow eyes met the knife-wielder’s slitted green eyes, and he spread his hood. Everyone’s hand tightened on their weapon. The wind whistled an Enrico Morricone tune.

Two mouths snarled, twin sets of fangs dripping with poison. Crowley lunged first. Loki’s body shimmered with scales and he struck. Aziraphale got to the ground and grabbed the knife the god had dropped. The snakes writhed around each other frantically, twisting and hissing in wild knots.

Aziraphale found himself on the ground in front of Odin and Thor, clutching two knives. “Once again,” he said, “I don’t want to fight, I really don’t--”

“Father!” A dark-haired man joined them, face long and stern. He bore absolutely no resemblance to the pale ginger gods among them. Aziraphale did a double take. He looked like Her. Had She…? “You called for my help?”

“Tyr, you’re just in time for the snake fight. Look at ‘em go.”

“Mmm, they’re not exactly fighting anymore, Dad,” Thor said.

“Oh, for--Loki! Get your ass back here, ya big ergi slut.” Odin traced a sign in the air, and the mad knot of serpents was no more. Two slim ginger men lay on the ground, the green-clad lad with his hand up the other man’s black caftan.

“Takes one to know one, bitch!” Loki hollered from where he was straddling a red-faced Crowley.

Tyr pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighed. Aziraphale knew he should be paying attention to the threat of a real fight or to Crowley’s distress, but that was the same gesture the Almighty had made...well, every time he’d been in Her office trying to explain something, come to think of it.

“I’d appreciate if we could work this out sensibly without having to resort to violence,” Aziraphale tried again.

“I’m willing to negotiate,” Tyr said, then glanced at Odin. “As the representative of Odin, Allfather and King of the Gods, of course. If he agrees.”

“Can you get him to leave that demon alone first?”

“What is he, your thrall?” Thor asked. Loki was holding Crowley’s wrists to the ground.

“More like a blood brother. Don’t make me call in the troops--”

“Don’t make me call in my wife and her girlfriends,” Odin said. “Frigga will kick your ass, and then she’ll kick my ass for interrupting sauna day.”

Aziraphale dropped both daggers. “Give me back the demon and we’ll both leave your territory immediately.”

“Withdraw your troops.”

“I’ll...send word.” Aziraphale’s voice cracked. “Tell him to leave my friend alone, please.” Loki’s tongue toyed with Crowley’s, his teeth dripping poison even in human form. Aziraphale could see the sparks of flame as Loki’s saliva burned Crowley’s lips. Crowley hissed and writhed, cheeks scaled and eyes nearly pure yellow.

“Loki, get the fuck off,” Odin shouted.

“I’m trying!”

“Don’t pull this shit with me, Silvertongue” Tyr growled. The earth shook beneath them all.

Loki’s hands rose, and he stepped away from Crowley. “You never let me have a good time.”

“Your good time usually results in monsters we have to fight later because you don’t pay child support.”

“I wouldn’t be broke if anyone would sacrifice anything but burnt oatmeal and twine ends to me. At least I take the kids out, we spend time together--”

“Riding your son in a horse race you bet on does not count as babysitting!”

Angel and demon got the fuck out of Scandinavia together as the gods argued behind them.

#good omens #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #norse gods #norse mythlogy #dubcon #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #part of a larger bit i'm working on but i'm not doing anything in chronological or narrative order rn so #loki #thor #odin #tyr

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patternscolorsflowers · 6 years

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So, I’ve been working with this pre-series AU sort of thing with human Alastor, and I thought I’d share! –– Though canonically asexual, Alastor strikes me as an extremely calculating and pragmatic individual who will absolutely set aside his own feelings and comfort in order to achieve greater ambitions. Historically, many prolific criminals have gone so far as to establish full-fledged alternate lives in order to remove them from public suspicion while going about their crimes. They married, had children, careers, hobbies, and were involved in their communities, and with Al’s extroverted personality, I certainly see him being able to play this part perfectly. I may actually write a short fic based on this AU, but for now I’ll just leave you guys with a (pretty long-winded) summary of what I was going for here.

Going off of what Viv herself confirmed in one of the art/animation cleanup streams, Alastor was in his mid to late 30s, possibly early 40s (she bounces back and forth with his age) when he died in 1933, which would put his birth sometime in the late 1880s or early 1890s, and he was a former radio show host living in New Orleans, Louisiana. I placed him at 43 at his time of death, with a birthdate in 1890, so just remember that’s not ‘entirely’ canon. –– The story begins in 1918 with the end of WWI, with the chaos and celebration of the end of the Great War, Alastor had already been killing for a number of years; a vibrant and cheerful radio host, he spent most of his time broadcasting and rarely left the building. Thus, most people had no idea what he looked like. When he did depart, it was always in the dead of night, to commit his gruesome and elaborately planned murders, which he was always first to report on as soon as a new body was discovered, stroking his ego as the mysterious killer.

Alastor’s long time friend and occasional partner in crime, Mimzy recognizes that he is taking things too far, and the it won’t be long before police catch up to him, people in town are starting to whisper about how detailed in his accounts and vivacious the unseen radio host is about these murders. Alastor takes her advice to heart, and takes a short reprieve from his crimes, to formulate a plan. –– Being the early 20th century, there were certain expectations of people, and certain norms it was seen as strange not to conform to. Alastor was an attractive and successful man in his late 20s, with no family, and seemingly no desire to have one. A man with that much time on his hands, who no one ever sees, is obviously going to arouse public suspicion. Alastor tells Mimzy that he believes his best cover option is to take a wife, to which she happily obliges. He refuses her, stating that although she is his dearest friend, he knows that she already has a dicey reputation of her own, and has already come up with an admittedly risky plan.

The velvet-throated radio host receives numerous fan letters (mostly from young women) from all over the city, which he hardly ever bothers to read, given their often licentious nature. Alastor sorts some of the newer envelopes based on how close to his area the letter was sent from, and selects one at random. The letter is from Violet Marchand, one of the daughters of a wealthy milliner and haberdasher in the city. –– On air in a show of good faith, he begins making a habit of showing appreciation for his fans by reading three letters each week, when reading Violet’s letter he makes sure to subtly show a little extra appreciation for the little things (her penmanship, the detail in her signature, and the the divine sprig of lavender she included with her note.) –– Violet writes him again, and he knows he has her attention.

The two begin a correspondence that lasts nearly a year, and he gets to know her better; she is the fourth of five children, and the youngest daughter, she likes to paint, though she isn’t very good, she loves to dance, enjoys music, keeps pet birds, and likes sweets and flowers. She is 17, with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, and short, somewhat stout build. Alastor doesn’t care about her looks, but her age intrigues him; she is ten years his junior, but soon to turn 18, and being from a wealthy family, and a pillar in the community at this time period, she would no doubt be presented soon as a candidate for marriage and entrance into society. Mimzy continues to warn her friend against it, (mostly out of jealousy) but he continues to write her, dropping hints about her debut, and whether or not her family had anyone immediate in mind. Meanwhile, the young lady is smitten with her honey-laced pen pal, and doesn’t hesitate (against her father’s judgment) to issue an invitation to him. In the Spring of 1919, Alastor stuns society by attending the Marchand family’s soiree. For most people in town, this is the first time he has been seen in full view. Dressed in a vulgar bright red suit that stood out among the crowds, he met Violet for the first time. She was as he pictured her, though much more unbridled in her cheerful emotional displays than he expected of a high-society lady. As the two spent the evening’s festivities together, Alastor was quick to intimidate and shock her potential suitors by swiftly presenting a bold proposal to her father, along with a year’s worth of letters they had been exchanging. At first Mr. Marchand is furious and his wife in shock at what a risk her daughter was taking with the family’s reputation, but Alastor’s success with a self-made career, and appearance of good standing with others in the community earned him an opportunity to throw his hat in the ring.

Weeks passed after the party with nothing from the Marchand house, or Violet, until one day Alastor received a sudden offer of marriage from Mr. Marchand, giving his blessing, but a warning (that he would annul the marriage and ruin Alastor socially, if he found him to be of poor character.) The two were married. –– Young Violet was elated at being married to her town’s greatest celebrity, and admittedly being the envy of her peers. However, her bliss was not destined to last; it became apparent rather quickly that things with Alastor as her husband were not going to be all that she’d hoped. He was reluctant to spend their wedding night together, and hardly wanted to share their bed, let alone a lengthy or heartfelt conversation. They had some commonalities that brought pleasure to the two of them, such as their like of music, dance and the theater, but at the core, their personalities, and wide difference in age made for a tense household. To make matters worse, she knew about her husband’s close friendship with Mimzy, and suspected an affair, which caused Violet to sink into a deep depression.

In spite of Alastor’s aversion to sharing his bride’s bed, he knew her high-profile family, and all of the town, knowing of their marriage, would begin to question the lack of children, or any apparent romance between them, so he enlisted his wife’s help in alleviating the scrutiny he was once again facing. –– At last, half a year after the wedding, Violet became pregnant with she and Alastor’s one and only child, a daughter named Ruby, was born in 1920. –– His ruse was complete. An affluent marriage to a jovial and attractive wife, a healthy new baby, a beautiful home, and a successful career, he was, by all forethought, beyond reproach. Though she was not entirely wanted by Alastor, who was only involving himself in this union for personal gain, Ruby quickly became regarded as a part of a very small (nearly nonexistent) circle of people who had Alastor’s love. He relished in spending time with her at home, she was an inquisitive and intelligent girl, who reminded him much of himself in his youth, though growing up in luxury made her struggles in life considerably easier than anything he had endured growing up. –– Years passed, Alastor kept to his ‘hobby’ as he called it, and was much away from home. Having a child seemed to lift his wife’s spirits greatly, and she was often distracted by his absence with spending time with Ruby, who from an early age, held many of her father’s traits. Though she wasn’t an especially violent or ill-tempered child, she rather craved violence in the things she liked to read and draw, which sparked alarm in her mother, who insisted that she needed more of Alastor’s presence in her life. Alastor obliged, bringing his daughter with him to work, and even letting her help him broadcast. While on their break, Ruby, now 7 years old, is the first to break the ice about why she was made to come with him. Alastor is seemingly captivated and inspired by the things his young daughter talks about, and a part of him is eager to share with her, his “hobby,” but knows he must tow the line delicately. He decides to plan a hunting trip with her. Surprisingly, Violet is accepting of his proposition, on the stipulation that she doesn’t actually use his guns.

During the trip, Alastor teaches Ruby about game hunting and tracking. He uses many of the same techniques when scouting out and cornering his human victims, so inwardly, he believes these are sufficient beginner lessons for her about his hobby killings. –– Ruby proves herself to be a natural tracker, like her father, but can’t bring herself to actually watch her father fire the gun. Alastor doesn’t chide her on it, but a part of him is disappointed, and yet, the other half, relieved.

Two years later, the Great Depression hit, and the Marchand family’s grand business takes a massive blow. Alastor decides that the family should downsize to conserve what they have, and move to a smaller home. Though a financially wise decision, this would prove to be the beginning of his undoing. –– In their stately old home, Al had a large private office and trophy room that only he was allowed to enter. In this room, along with a few items for personal pleasure (books, a Victrola, records, etc.) he kept the instruments he used to commit his crimes. –– The family’s new home was a great deal smaller, three bedrooms, a kitchen and one bathroom, but they couldn’t complain, they were much better off than millions of others. Speaking of the struggles and mass chaos of the Depression, Alastor inwardly relished at the opportunities this granted him. Thousands of people were dying and committing suicide en masse, he could double up on his atrocities and no one would be the wiser!

Alastor enlisted Mimsy’s companionship to seek new victims, the club that she danced and sang at had closed its doors anyway, and rather than sink into destitution, she gleefully accepted her friend’s prospects. During that year alone they claimed nearly one hundred lives, but little did they know, they were being watched. The owner of the club Mimzy was once employed at was Gerard Marchand, one of Violet’s older brothers, estranged from his parents, but in good company with his younger sister. He had seen Alastor and Mimzy sneaking into the abandoned building on numerous occasions, moving bags with unknown contents in and out with them nearly every night. When Garard investigated himself and discovered the pools of blood, and basins full of sinewed instruments being cleaned, he immediately called the authorities. Mimzy was caught upon her return to the club, but refused to give Alastor’s name. Gerard however, confirmed he knew him, and the police set off to arrest him. –– At home, Violet sensed something was amiss, as her husband, normally distant, sat between she and Ruby on the sofa, silently holding them close. His jacket smelled of sweat and blood. When the authorities arrived, Alastor kissed them both and went to answer the door himself, he was promptly arrested, and additional instruments, and trophies from his many victims, were discovered locked in his desk, sitting out in the open living room (having since been deprived of a private office.) –– The conviction sent the city into a further uproar, some claiming they’d known he was strange from the beginning, that they “knew” he had something to hide, and others, like Violet, in a shocked and speechless state.

Alastor was sentenced to death by hanging in 1933, and while he was taken to the gallows, he declined to have his head covered, wanting to experience every bit of his execution. As the noose was tightened around his neck, and the witnesses glared, stone faced at the platform, and the boards swung loose from beneath his feet, Alastor smiled until he had gone from the world.

PHEW! YEAH. Thanks if you stuck around to actually read all of my nonsense! Haha! Just something I’ve been working with for a little while. Like I said, I might do more with this, I might not. Not sure yet, would you guys like to see more?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin oc #alastor #mimzy #fan au #oc #alastor x oc #alastor x mimzy #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #vivzmind #vivziepop #digital art #color #photo #illustration

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

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OUAT Rewatch 4X15 - Poor Unfortunate Souls

I’ve always loved this episode, but I can’t help but wonder what kind of SOUL searching I’ll need to do as I watch this one again! XD

Eh, he got it.

Anyway, review’s under the cut!

Main Takeaways

Past

So, it goes without say, but Poseidon is the best god! He has a tough commanding voice, a method of carrying himself that commands respect, a solid character arc, and MINIONS! What god doesn’t have minions that dress in uniforms and follow his every order without lip?! Additionally, he’s egotistical, placing his need to have Ursula by his side over her desires to sing and awful in that sense that he’ll buy her love rather than earn it. Basically, this guy has the presence of a god. Characters like Nimue and Merlin would have this similar presence, but as for Hades and Zeus, the other actual gods, they really don’t.

I love the story development in this episode. I’ll get into this shortly, but what makes this episode work so well is that Killian is shown to, despite being a ruthless pirate, be someone who does have the capacity for good in his heart. He’s someone who has that potential to care for another person and to be willing to go to great lengths for them.

It’s great how Killian doesn’t go full tilt against Ursula upon getting a possibility for his revenge, but he does still retreat to villainy somewhat. The trip to Glowerhaven is now a trip not fully made out of goodness and selflessness, but also for profit as Killian asks for the squid ink before he transports Ursula away.

But the way he does ultimately go evil is interesting too. It’s not about hurting Ursula, but about hurting Poseidon. And that makes it worse -- the action that harms Ursula wasn’t made to hurt her, but out of spite. Ursula is turned in that instance from a friend into a pawn. And it’s interesting how Ursula takes agency in her own story back from both Poseidon and Killian. She stands up to both men and even takes the former’s triton to become a goddess and a villain. It’s so tragic, but also kind of badass!

Present

Killian’s development in this episode is fantastic! I like how we see the difference between the hero clan and Killian. While their first thought, as David puts it, is to “save August,” Killian’s is to find the Dark One’s secrets. And I like how this isn’t a bad plan in comparison to theirs, but different. It’s an important part of dismantling Rumple’s schemes in the long run. I also like how the episode shows subtly how Killian’s mindframe about doing good changes within the scope of the episode. When he first announces how he’ll return Ursula’s happy ending, it’s done out of a need to get revenge on Rumple after he screwed them out of the dagger. Listen to how he talks about helping her: “Now’s the time to use it [his backstory with Ursula].” He also calls her a “creature” and a “monster,” and even when she stands up to him for the name calling, he doesn’t apologize.

And look at the way Killian talks about returning Ursula’s happy ending. Normally, a line like that is given lighter and more triumphant music to accompany it, but not here. That’s because it’s not about wanting to do right by Ursula, but that is the mindset he has to learn. He’s sort of on the right trail -- he even points out to Emma how he’s taking a page out of her book -- but because his mindset is botched, he’s not in the right mindset for when things go wrong. While Snow, David, or Emma would try to take a next step after the shell doesn’t originally work and assure Ursula that they’ll help her out, Killian doesn’t think of her wants and needs and just demands the information, endangering himself.

Ariel was both a weird choice and the BEST choice to help Killian along his trail to redemption. For one thing, it allows for the real Ariel to finally get some justice after what happened with Killian and Blackbeard and her in season 3. But most importantly, she highlights that getting a happy ending isn’t necessarily dependent on you alignment, but how you go about getting it. And this prompts Killian to ask for help. That asking for help s so important because of how it shifts Killian’s perspective from wanting to help Ursula for himself to wanting to help Ursula for her own good. That’s how a hero thinks. And it turns out that when he starts thinking that way, he’s not bad at doing good at all!

“If Gold did to me what he did to Hook, I’d want to shove that dagger through his heart too.” I kind of hate a lot of this show’s approaches to anger. Killian’s pissed -- and Emma’s pissed for him -- that Rumple took advantage of the growing trust between himself and Belle in order to reclaim his power, and now the entire town is in danger because of it. This line is treated as a way to foreshadow the possibility of Emma going dark, but honestly, it’s just anger. It’s a valid emotion and in from here until the end of the series, that anger tends to be framed as something that’s not allowed to happen, and the show is worse off for it. Is the agner a touch excessive? Arguably, but given how personal this crime was, I can get that it reached that extent. And Emma even elaborates on that point immediately afterwards.

All Encompassing

Out of all of the episodes where Killian screws things up in the past, but rights things in the present, this I feel is one of the best ones. Killian’s not heartless in either segment, his actions aren’t too bad that they can’t be made right by the events of the episode, and Killian’s approach has to change in regards to his own morality and motivations, which it does.

So, let’s talk about Ursula. On one hand, we never get to see or even hear about any of her villainy and that undermines a lot of her presence in the series. Despite all of the power that she supposedly has, it’s never used to any villainous effect. Because of that, to some extent, she’s less of a villain in a lot of way and more of a vessel for Killian and Rumple. And that’s not really fair. That said, I do think that her character development in this singular episode is quite substantial and in a way, redeems Ursula’s character. She’s given a clear and concise motivation for her villainy as well as a redemption that makes emotional sense. She’s tragic and unique in a lot of ways and her characteristics in both the past and present, despite that lack of villainy, make for a three dimensional character.

Stream of Consciousness

-I love the callback in the opening to both the source of Killian’s apprehension over mermaids from “The Heart of the Truest Believer” and to “The Little Mermaid.”

-I like the design for Ursula’s grotto. Sure, it’s probably like the show’s final Rumbelle scene where it was designed in a minimalist way by painting the set all black, but just as it was there, it’s pretty!

-I like the allusion as Ursula listens to classical music instead of torturing August and only begrudgingly joins Cruella at Cruella’s behest that Ursula is not all that interested in being a baddie.

-I love the clear BS’ing yet improvising skills that August puts on display here!

-”Well it wouldn’t be the first time he lied to my face.” Regina, get Elsa back here because Rumple gave August a BURN! XD

-I do appreciate that Emma points out how fucked up it was to steal a child! It’s not as far as this conflict should have gone, but it’s a good step.

-Between the magical eye drops, giving David half of her heart, Cora’s possession, all the breastfeeding she must be doing, and now this, Snow must be SO tired of sharing her body! XD

-I also appreciate how Regina’s first bit of dialogue was to tell Emma that Pinocchio was fine and what happened.

-”Who? Me?” This is some perfect comedy right here! I love the slow buildup and the way every character’s head is given its own individual moment to turn to Killian. It is a perfect punchline!

-”Even when I didn’t think he could deceive me any more, he found a way.” I feel so bad for Belle with this line. She’s so tired of being tricked by Rumple and now even trusting in those that she wants to is dangerous.

-”Then your name would’ve been written across it.” …”When you can see the future, there’s irony everywhere.”

-I LOVE this rendition of “Mysterious Fathoms Below.” It’s so soothing and beautiful. It feels both like a lullabye and what a group of sailors would want to hear after a long day, and that’s an interesting balance to hit.

-I love the costumes of Poseidon and his underlings. I like the beach-y things the cover the tops of their gold and their hats that look like conch shells!

-”It’s unwise to insult the size of a pirate’s ship.” Wouldn’t be OUAT without the occasional dick measuring contest.

-I actually totally forgot about that dream sequence Regina had. So, now that I remember again AND have the context of the Evil Queen arc, I think that arc either alluded to a fear of Regina’s evil impulses threatening to separate her from Robin or foreshadowing of jealousy from the Evil Queen and that’s Wish Robin that’s there.

-I love the absolute look of HORROR on August’s face as he’s turned back into a puppet.

-I’m starting to realize that anyone with a “code” in this series has a code that is weak as fuck!

-Thankfully, that nice swim will be UNDERcut by some FIN-terference, so he’ll SEA you later! XD

-Snow hitting Cruella over the head with a frying pan from back of the room was perfect! Not only is it so funny, but it was a great reminder of just how tactical Snow can be!

-Awww! That August and Emma reunion was soooo sweet! We really see that friendship they had come fully back and it’s honestly so heartwarming.

-I loved Poseidon’s apology to Ursula. There are no excuses and he really gets into how badly he screwed both her and himself over, and not in an egotistical way.

Favorite Dynamic

Ursula and Killian. I like the framing of their dynamic. Killian is very much a ruthless pirate and Ursula is clearly defined as someone who can break through that thanks to the peace her voice brings him. It’s an unconventional, but organic friendship. And I like how it’s not just Ursula providing Killian with things, but also Killian providing Ursula with emotional validation. Ursula doesn’t seem to have many friends (which makes sense given how she’s the daughter of a god), and that’s implied by just how much Killian’s words and promises impact her. You can see how badly she’s needed to hear that her way of honoring her mother hasn’t been wrong and that despite what Poseidon says, she’s doing the right thing. And in return, Ursula gives Killian peace and a chance at some level of redemption. Because of her voice and mercy, he’s able to see some good inside himself and offer her help. And until his revenge gets in the way, and he starts treating Ursula like a pawn, he holds himself to that.

Writer

Andrew Chambliss and Dana Horgan are in control today! And they did a good job! This is just a cohesive episode. Unlike ��The Apprentice,” these guys knew exactly what they wanted to do with Killian’s character and did exactly that. They made his character consistent and kept his feelings throughout the episode clear. This is an enormous change from the Killian who didn’t even have a distinguished facial reaction to being forced to hold an old man hostage while he was sucked into a hat. And they still managed to put in nuanced discussions about what it means to think like and be a hero. Writing decisions like that make the kind of material that define a character and these guys brought their A-game to both segments.

Rating

Golden Apple. While I had my nitpicks, this was an amazing episode. Killian’s character development as he descends to and rises from villainy is really well done, the episode’s supporting characters are great, and Ursula is for the most part very three dimensional.

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

Captain Swan - “Don’t you know, Emma? It’s you.” I love these guys. I love how they value each other. I love how in this episode, Killian calls Emma his happy ending and the slow, meaningful reaction to that including the kiss. I love how Emma stands up to David when he even considers that Killian could be evil again. She really believes in him and trusts that he can do the right thing and get them the information they need.

-----

Thank you all for reading!!! Shout out to @watchingfairytales and @daensarah!!

Season 4 Total (131/230)

Writer Scores: Adam and Eddy: (34/60) Jane Espenson: (20/40) David Goodman and Jerome Schwartz: (38/50) Andrew Chambliss: (32/50) Dana Horgan: (16/30) Kalinda Vazquez: (22/40) Scott Nimerfro: (14/30) Tze Chun (8/20)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 4x15 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat

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