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ohnotoomanyfandoms · 4 years

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This is definitely gonna be an unpopular opinion and you probably won’t agree with me, but what ariadne did to Anna is VERY similar to what Charles did to Alastair, but no ones ready to have that conversation yet 🤭 it’s making me mad that loads of people are hating on Anna (and I don’t even rlly like Anna) for what she says to Ariadne in that leaked snippet when actually it’s fair enough for Anna to feel frustrated and reluctant to give Ariadne a second chance. I definitely sympathise with Ariadne but people like to act as tho she’s done nothing wrong, even though she did enter into a relationship with Anna without telling her that she was engaged to Charles - Anna’s within her rights to be wary of her

Okay, lots to unpack here.

I do see your point - there are definitely similarities. Both Ariadne and Charles preferred to keep their sexuality and relationships a secret, preferred to hide their love for Anna and Alastair, make a political marriage, and be closeted forever. Reputation is a big part of why, but I feel the real reason behind it is slightly different.

In Charles’s case, it’s all about ambition. He wants to be Consul and he won’t let anyone or anything - not even his feelings - come first. He loved Alastair in his own way - as we can see from him trying to speak with him at the party in the snippet, four whole months after Alastair broke things off. His feelings were real, but his reason for wanting to keep Alastair a secret and wanting to make a politically advantageous marriage are entirely selfish.

Now, Ariadne. I feel like it’s important to point out Ari is much younger when she meets Anna and breaks her heart. She was 16/17 (not sure about her exact birth date), while Charles was 24 in Chain of Gold when he had that conversation with Alastair. You can see how this changes things.

Another important thing to consider: status. Charles is the perfect firstborn child of the Consul. We know Charlotte and Henry just want to see their children happy, no matter their sexuality, just like Gabriel and Cecily with Anna. On the other hand, Ariadne is the daughter of the Inquisitor, but his adoptive daughter. Her parents love her, but with limitations. She does not believe they would think of her the same way if they knew she was a lesbian. And, yes, she is a young woman of color thrown into the ruthless London Enclave. I know that logically Shadowhunters should be more progressive on internal racism, since they are racist aplenty with Downworlders, but it’s just another thing that sets Ari apart from her peers.

Ariadne is aware her position is more precarious than Anna’s and says as much in Every Exquisite Thing: “I am adopted, Anna. My father is the Inquisitor. I do not have parents who are as understanding as yours must be...”

I don’t blame Ariadne for her choices in EET. Should we had told Anna she was entering a long engagement? Yes, absolutely. She didn’t handle the situation well, but it’s not like she knew Anna long. They kind of fell in love instantly and acted on it right away, there wasn’t much time for conversation about future intentions.

By the way, the marriage with Charles was the perfect loophole, because both were gay and both were entering that marriage with the same intentions of living separate romantic lives. No one was being lied to or led on. Even Alastair understands this and is willing to tolerate it. It’s Charles leaving Ariadne to enter an engagement with Grace that does it for Alastair, because it makes no sense logically or politically, and Al also realizes that if Charles was willing to PUBLICLY drop Ariadne, the daughter of the Inquisitor like that, he could as easily drop him, his secret love that no one knew about. To be fair to Charles (not something I enjoy doing lol), we know Grace must have compelled him to enter an engagement, so this part is not his fault.

Now, to the situation in Chain of Iron: Anna and Alastair are indeed reacting in similar ways to their exes trying to win them back. They’re both refusing, and they have good reason to. They’ve been hurt by these people in the past and have no wish to repeat the experience.

I did not enjoy the anti Anna discourse I was seeing last week, because - as much as I ship them, which is a lot - you need to remember that Anna does not owe Ari anything. Yes, we know she’s still in love with her, but she has no obligation towards her. She is free to refuse her as she would any other lover. She shouldn’t be cruel about it or do it out of spite or pettiness, but, just like Alastair with Charles, she doesn’t have to take Ari back.

Anna wants freedom. She feels like romantic love will be a cage. Whatnot, she does not trust Ariadne with her heart. It’s not hard to see why that is, and I think she deserves to be fully sure she wants to be in a relationship with Ariadne before she rushes into one. This might take some time, and I think it’s okay Anna takes hers with this decision. Because once they’re together, Anna knows her life will change drastically: Ariadne isn’t interested in being another dalliance, she wants the real thing, she wants to win her back and conquer her heart.

Anna knows that if they do this, it’s going to be forever. I think it’s fair she considers carefully. She is not punishing Ariadne for her past mistake, she is testing her. She needs to see how committed Ari will be this time, because Anna can’t risk her heart with her again. I’m not saying I support this, just that Anna has a right to wait.

I want them to get back together. They will, sooner or later. We need to let things take their course.

#arianna #annariadne #anna lightwood #ariadne bridgestock #anna x ariadne #charles fairchild #alastair carstairs #Charles x Alastair #CHAIN OF IRON SPOILERS #chain of iron theories #coi spoilers #coi theories #chain of iron #chain of gold #the last hours #tlh #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc

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beatsfortheillperth · 4 years

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Words with Jetson

Our next interview is with a producer and rapper out of a beautiful place known as Tauranga, in New Zealand, This creative is known as Jetson.

He happens to be one of my cat, Rain's personal favourites for sleep time and regardless of the amount of thumping bass Jetson's music creates and picture frames it knocks over, I understand why he sleeps so sweetly.

Probably a lot to do with the fact that bass has rhythm, just like the sweet sweet words Jetson correlates with his word-plays in tracks such as "Milk" and "SENSEI". Not only impressing cats, Jetson has made moves and connections beyond the long white cloud, proving isolation doesn't always silence brilliance. Jetson brings words any generation can hold some sort of relevance to, words that allow one to notice life moves fast and slow and sometimes you just have to chill and become an observer rather than an instigator.

This is something I feel Jetson has accomplished with his rather low-key approach to releases and interviews.

Jetson is a natural, a true prodigy of sound and a sharer of moods, and to me, is a reminder that with a little bit of passion and persistence, great things can happen, whatever your field.

Jetson’s collective and label - Chill Children is evidence of that, as through it , Jetson is able to work and release with producers and beat-makers all over the globe.

emo the optimist, BACKWHEN, fuyu, eets, and junyii are just some of the diverse talents working with Chill Children and everyone on the catalogue are game-changers that make music that’s anointed in chills.

Creators that push boundaries and portray emotion through sound in the most soothing way, one must check Chill Children.

So with that I hope you enjoy rare words with the nuance wonder, and in his own words.

Sit back, relax, get baked, create, f**k it.

Enjoy and much love.

Hey man thanks for the opportunity to share words. Let's start with a few random quick questions to get things going. Favourite Beverage: Lemon water. Favourite thing to do in your down-time: Make music/skate. Views on Reincarnation: It will be cool if it is true but I guess it doesn't really change anything if it is 🤷‍♂️ Favourite Food: Sushi. Favourite Album of All Time: Tribe Called Quest - Midnight Marauders A song to break it down to: Ethereal & Playboi Carti - Beef A song to chill to: Durand Jones & The Indications - Cruising to the park Do you prefer Sunrise? or Sunset? Why?: Sunset, because I'm never awake for sunrise. A childhood memory in regards to music: I remember saving up to buy Graduation by Kanye West and listening to that shit front to back for weeks straight. Favourite Place to be: Probably on an island.

Thanks for that, so let's start by asking what inspires you to produce and not only produce but continually produce, what to me is an array of tunes fitting so many genres?

Do you have a set of goals in place when you release a track or do you just hit upload and just hope people are feeling your sound?

What I like to listen to is constantly changing so I like to challenge myself to try and make the things that I'm inspired by.

I like to think that you never know what you're gonna get when you listen to my music but I've still got so much to learn and experiment with. I just try have fun with it and not think about it too much.

How long have you been producing music, and what did you find was hardest to get the hang of when it first came to producing beats?

I had no music theory knowledge or anything when I started making beats (I still don't have much) so there was a lot to learn right away.

Probably the hardest thing that I still battle with is knowing what you should release, what you shouldn't etc. It's hard to balance knowing when something is finished and when it still needs work.

Could you give a quick run-through of the process you follow when it comes to making a beat?

I try to change my process as much as I can to keep things fresh and fun for myself. But I really enjoy hearing a sample somewhere like keys, a quote or a rapper I want to remix, then I start working with that piece and see where it goes.

I'll mess around with the beat for a while and sometimes a track comes out. It can take one day, it can take months. Just depends.

Oldies are always goodies in my books and I have to mention your "bumps from 2014" mixtape, it truly is something special.

What inspired those little bumps? What were you doing back then? Also, can you remember the mood you were in when you made them?

I'm glad you like it haha. That was when I really had no clue what I was doing in terms of making beats, I was making all of those 'off the grid' in Ableton so I was placing drums in random places, I had no idea what bpm the samples were or anything. I really didn't know wtf I was doing, just going off of a vibe.

My mood was really just being excited about making music, I was living in the basement at my mum's house blasting beats on the speakers all day.

[bumps from 2014] - https://soundcloud.com/sleepgodd/bumps-from-2014

You are also a rapper. My favourite NZ rapper to be more precise so thank you for the vibes you create. How did you find out you had it in you to rap and how old were you?

Damn, I appreciate that ✌️ I started rapping with a friend of mine, Jesse aka j cafe when we were around 20. We'd sit in my room smoking weed, and free-styling over beats on Soundcloud all night.

Then we decided to make a track, so we found a beat and jumped in the closet to record some vocals on the laptop microphone.

We put it up on Soundcloud and I've been addicted to making music ever since.

Link to j cafe’s Soundcloud here - https://soundcloud.com/j-cafe

Cover art for Jetson’s 2019 rap release - bluntscraps

Album cover art by Takuroh Toyama

When did you first start rapping in front of others? What did it feel like in the beginning compared to now when you perform live?

I was insanely nervous the first time I ever did anything live and that feeling really hasn't left me lol.

Except now I know how to deal with nerves a bit better and actually enjoy the whole experience of doing something live.

I definitely think I'm a lot better now than my first time doing it, but I still kinda suck 😂 Staying on topic with your rapping, material-wise you have mad skills, your music is forever helping me chill out so thank you.

When did you start writing down your words and turning them into structured songs? Do you have any other artists that inspire your writing style?

When I was younger I really liked the flow of rappers rather than what they were actually saying.

Dudes like MF Doom and Earl Sweatshirt really influenced me at the start wanting to come up with lines that were catchy and different.

To form an actual track I usually just mumble over beats to get the flow, then I start placing words in the spots where I think they fit.

Does your family know you make music? If so what do they think of it, any dance parties in the Jetson Family Household?

My immediate family all know and support my music. My mum used to have one of my tracks as her ringtone for years lol.

No jetson dance parties yet, but seems like every year more people in my extended family know about my music.

You were also a member of NZ Duo, Chill Children of which you rap and produce with yet another kiwi talent, both having low-key approaches when it comes to presenting yourselves through social media. What happened with that?

Me and J Cafe started Chill Children as a rap project in the early days but we moved to different places in the world and started doing our own solo projects so things sort of stopped happening with it.

I still credit those times with really getting me started on music though. He's still making dope shit and we'll probably link up on a track soon.

So then it became a sort of collective community, and through your Chill Children Soundcloud, you allow a platform for other artists to have their music heard.

Much Love on the concept, What inspired you to start sharing other artists music and what keeps you sharing? I'm very grateful btw, too many gems.

I work on music a lot with my friend emo the optimist (aka kodama) and we always wanted to run a label/collective kind of thing so we could release music from artists that we really liked.

After me and Jesse started doing our own thing, Chill Children seemed like the perfect place to start doing that.

It's one of my favorite things to work on as we have a hand in working with the artists on every release. I just love that we're able to share so much music that we really like with the world.

Check Chill Children here -

Bandcamp - https://chillchildren.bandcamp.com/

Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/chillchildren

Instagram - @chillchildren

Any new Chill Children material we should keep an eye out for?

We always have new music from new artists dropping so definitely follow our instagram/twitter if you want to stay updated on it.

We're currently working on a phonk compilation with guys like DJ Yung Vamp, Genshin etc. It's gonna be crazy 🤯

Back to your solo releases through your alias Jetson. What made you want to start putting out your material alone? Also, do you have a favourite Jetson release?

I really felt like I had to release music solo to see what I could do.

I've learned so much about myself through that process, became more confident and a better musician.

Probably my favorite rap track I've made is called 'Escape'.

Not many people have heard it but it's on Spotify and other places.

My favorite beat I've made is probably 'dylan rieder'.

Have to ask, are you working on any new releases we should keep an ear out for? If so, what can we expect with your coming releases?

I just released an album on Bandcamp called THROWED TAPES which was really influenced by DJ screw and other phonk producers.

I'm working on a lofi R&B tape for Bandcamp, a lofi beat tape, and I really want to release a rap EP.

Who knows when those will come out though haha

Taking it back a little to your rapping again I have to mention "Milk". What inspires the words in this track?

Also please share the story behind your track "Melancholy"? The words are somewhat mesmerizing, thank you!

With milk, I just heard the beat from bsd.u and really wanted to make something weird that just followed the flow of the beat.

On melancholy I tried to think about what I was saying a little more. The instrumental is so introspective and smooth I knew I had to come correct on it.

THROWED TAPES By Jetson, released August, 27, 2020

Musical Recommendations?

junyii - emo the optimist - knxwledge - j cafe - jesse james solomon - the smiths - dj yung vamp - shuggie otis - hm surf - alicks - MIKE - baccyard - meraki soul - steve hiett I could go on for days though lol

Creatives to keep an eye out for in music and art? Takuroh Toyama (photography) Moebius (visual art) Steve Hiett (photography/music) Any Last Words?

It really trips me out that people enjoy something I love to do so much.

So just thank you for vibing with me, I have a lot more to share ✌️

Support Jetson here -

Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/highimjetson

Bandcamp - https://jetsonbumps.bandcamp.com/

Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/artist/2bkf2PmiVyfCqg2uzIFIqJ

Twitter - https://twitter.com/jetsonbumps

Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/jetsonn/?hl=en

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Milk by Jetson (Production by bsd.u)

#soundcloud #spotify #bandcamp #jetson #rapper #producer #beatsfortheill #interview

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justablobfish · 4 years

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Sleigh rides

Day 9 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list

Read on AO3

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

______

After their lesson in the Elder Speech and after the impromptu lesson in applying makeup, Ciri and Triss make their way to one of the softer slopes of the mountains surrounding the Witcher keep.

The sleigh they found at the very back of an unused tool shed trails behind them. Ciri is holding the other end of the piece of string they attached to its front. She doesn't seem to mind that it bumps into the back of her heels every couple of steps and keeps chattering away about this and that.

Triss can't help but smile at her fondly. The one destined to change the whole world. But for now she's only a young girl, excited to go sleigh riding.

"This place seems good," Triss points out and stops Ciri by grabbing her arm. "You get on first since you're smaller, and then I'll sit behind you."

Ciri aligns the sleigh towards the slope and pins it between her feet.

As she attempts to sit down though, the sleigh escapes the grip of her calves and starts sliding forward by a foot or so until it is stopped by the string still in Ciri's hand. Ciri, however, already finds herself in the clutches of gravity and sits down heavily onto the snow where the sleigh stood a moment before.

They stare at each other for a moment of silent surprise before they both erupt in laughter.

"Looks like the sleigh has a will of its own, little one," Triss giggles. "Let's see if you can tame it!"

She helps Ciri up and together they bring the sleigh back into position. This time Triss holds onto the sleigh while Ciri sits down at the front. Then Ciri digs her heels into the snow while Triss climbs on behind her.

"Ready?" Ciri beams and off they are, before Triss can point out that the slope looks a lot steeper from up here than it did when they were walking towards it.

The slope turns out to be a lot more icy, too, than it appeared at first glance, the harder surface hidden under a thick layer of snow.

They pick up speed fast.

"C-c-c-ciri!" Triss stutters as the bumpy ground they drive over rattles every single bone in her body. "Try using your fe-e-eet to slow us down!"

"Wheeeeee!" Ciri screams back over the icy wind biting their cheeks.

"Oh no, there's a hill up ahead!" Triss notices with horror. "It'll lift us right into the air! Lean to the side so we can avoid it! No, Ciri, the other side!"

But it’s too late and the skids take off the ground. For a split second, Triss feels utterly at peace as all the weight falls off her body.

It doesn't last long. Suddenly, she can feel the sleigh trying to escape from underneath them. She quickly wraps her arms around Ciri's waist and clings to the sleigh with all the strength of her thighs.

A moment later they are back on the ground. The impact is harsh and will definitely leave horrendous bruises. Triss is not certain if her limbs are all in the right order anymore.

There's no time to sort herself out, though. The sleigh is already driving down again and the two of them are helplessly being dragged along. For some reason Ciri laughs wholeheartedly. She must have hit her head when the sleigh collided with the ground. No sane person could possibly enjoy this hellride!

The laughter cuts off abruptly.

"Triss! There's a tree right in front of us!" Ciri squeaks. "What do I do?"

"Lean, little one!" Triss shouts bag. "Lean for your life!"

They barely manage to avoid the tree. The sleigh tilts to the side until the left skid hangs freely in the air and a beat later it’s running along the bark of the tree instead of the ground, producing an abhorrent screeching noise. Then they're past.

Everything seems to pause for a moment. Then the sleigh tilts even further to the side and both sorceress and princess tumble into the snow surprisingly softly, all things considered.

The sleigh drifts further, now lying on its side, until it, too, comes to a halt several feet away.

Ciri is back on her feet in an instant.

"That. Was. Amazing!" she cheers with a fearlessness only children can muster. "Oh my! Triss! Are you alright?"

Triss does indeed need a moment longer to process the sudden end of their journey down and to assess any potential injuries. She seems to be fine as well though, aside from a few bruises.

"Well, Ciri, those Witchers, do they teach you well?" she asks finally.

"Uhm? Yes, they do," Ciri replies, confused at the odd timing of such a question.

"And did they teach you what to do when you fall during an exercise?" Triss inquires further.

"Oh!" Ciri nods. "Yes of course they have! First you get up-"

As if to demonstrate, Triss scrambles to her feet and dusts some snow off her dress.

"-and then you get right back at it," Ciri continues. "Or you'll catch fear!"

"Very good," Triss praises. "So run and fetch the sleigh. It's a long walk back up and we still need to show this slope who's boss!"

"Really?" Ciri beams. "I didn't think you'd want to go again!"

"Well, what can I say?" Triss muses. "It would appear the fresh mountain air is detrimental to my mental health. Let's go!"

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #ciri #triss merigold #theblobfishwrites

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flyingblackhawk · 5 years

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The Bath Song

Clint/Nat/Laura fic

1,980 words

“Tash.”

Nothing.

“Natasha.”

She won’t answer him. She hasn’t answered him for almost an hour, not since they landed. She’s still in her tac gear, still refusing to let him inspect her for injuries. He can’t even get her out of the quinjet. He doesn’t know what to do. Natasha has shut him out before, sure. But this seems different.

His phone rings. Clint figures he can take the call, seeing as Nat isn’t about to talk to him. He leaves her where she is, sitting in the copilot’s seat of the jet.

“Hello,” he mumbles.

“Clint?”

“Hey, Laura,” he breathes. “Sorry. I meant to call.”

“Well, you answered the phone. That’s a good sign.”

He doesn’t know what to say.

“Is Nat alright?”

“She’s alive.”

“What happened?”

He hesitates. “I don’t… I’m not sure. It was bad. She won’t talk to me.”

There’s static as Laura hums thoughtfully.

“What do I do?” he asks. He knows she can hear the exhaustion in his voice, he knows she’ll be worried. He can’t help it. He needs his wife to tell him what to do.

“Come home,” she says. “Bring Nat.”

It’s all he needs. He reaches over and buckles her into her seat. She barely seems to register him doing it, but her eyes are still open. He almost wishes she would sleep.

The journey home is long, and she dozes on and off, always waking with a start, still recoiling whenever Clint reaches out to touch her.

When he lands, the sun is just setting. He considered circling for a while until the kids were asleep, but they don’t have the fuel for that, and he’s about to fall asleep himself. So he lands, and opens the ramp. Laura climbs into the jet as he unbuckles his harness.

“Hey,” she murmurs, kissing him on the cheek. Her focus immediately goes to Natasha, slumped in her seat, staring vacantly out the windshield.

“Let’s get her inside,” Laura says. “Come on.”

Clint reaches out for his partner, and she recoils. Laura jumps, then moves around in front of her seat, awkwardly clambering around the controls.

“Nat,” she says, loudly. “It’s me. Come on. We need to get you inside, okay?”

Natasha’s eyes flicker to Laura, then back to the view outside. She says nothing, but she relaxes minutely, and Laura nods at her husband.

Clint unbuckles Natasha’s harness, and they half-lift her out of the seat. She walks, stumbling slightly, carried between them, and she doesn’t protest or pull away. Clint knows she must be as exhausted as he is.

“It’s bath time,” Laura says. “The kids are upstairs.”

“Want me to stay down here with Nat?” he asks. Laura considers it. The kids have seen worse than this, a fact that makes them both feel immensely guilty.

“Let me go talk to them,” she decides. “Then bring her up to the bathroom. It’s warm, and maybe seeing the kids will help.”

Clint nods, and stands there awkwardly with his partner’s arm still slung around his shoulders. She’s not protesting his touch anymore, which makes him feel a little better, but she’s still vacantly staring, not making eye contact, and still tense. Clint hears muffled voices upstairs, and then Laura calls his name. Carefully, he helps Natasha up the stairs and into the bathroom, where his whole family is waiting for them. His kids are in the bath, Nate sitting in a little bath seat attached to the side of the tub while Cooper dutifully sits beside him and Lila splashes her toys for the baby to see. Clint eases Natasha down against the wall, and lets her curl her knees to her chest.

“Who’s ready for ice cream?” Clint asks. Cooper and Lila shriek, and splash their way out of the tub. Clint wraps their little bodies in big towels, and declares a race to the kitchen. As his two oldest children race out of the room, he kisses Laura on the head and follows them.

Laura waits until the door shuts, and then carefully shimmies out of her shirt. She kicks off her shoes, always keeping one hand on the baby, and then slides out of her pants. She’s not sure if undressing in front of Natasha is the best idea, but it’s how she bathes her baby.

Naked, Laura climbs into the tub and eases Nate out of his bath seat. The water isn’t deep, and he comes to rest between her knees as she holds him, and gurgles happily as he splashes his pudgy little hands on the surface. Laura laughs, and looks over to Natasha. She is looking away, biting her lip hard. Laura refocuses on her baby, and bounces him up and down.

“Now then, baby,” she murmurs, smiling at him as he splashes excitedly, “let’s get you clean.”

She starts to hum the same song she’s been singing to all of her kids since they were babies. Her mom sang it to her as a kid. The simple words always bring back memories of warm water and laughter, toys and bubbles.

“Can you wash your ha-air?”, Laura sings, scooping Nate into her lap. She gathers a little water in her hand and lets it pour over Nate’s little head. The baby laughs.

“I can wash my ha-air,” she continues.

“Can you wash your fe-eet?” She grabs a little foot. Nate shrieks happily. “I can wash my fe-eet.”

She sees Natasha turn back to them out of the corner of her eyes. Laura can only wait until the warmth and safety of the room brings Natasha back. What to do then, she’s not sure, so she keeps washing her baby boy.

“Can you wash your fa-ace? I can wash my fa-ace.”

Natasha shuffles closer to the bath, watching Nate as Laura bounces him up and down in the water. He’s so reliably adorable. Even on her worst days, Nat can’t resist watching his little face. Laura knows the feeling.

“Can you wash your kne-ees? I can wash my kne-ees.”

Natasha’s fingers trail in the warm water, and Laura has to stop herself from reaching out. Natasha will come to her when she’s ready.

“Thi-is is the way we take a bath.”

Laura keeps washing, keeps singing, slightly off key, feeling the gentle weight of her baby on her lap. By the time Clint opens the door, she’s all the way to Nate’s nose, and Natasha has taken off her jacket and her shoes and is helping cradle the baby’s head in the water. Clint smiles, and Laura lifts Nate out of the water. He grizzles, but soon Clint has him wrapped up in a towel and he settles down. Clint waits for Laura to get out of the water, but she just turns on the hot tap, and he takes it as his signal to take the baby and go. He does, and Natasha watches forlornly as he carries her adoptive nephew out of the room.

“Come on,” Laura says. It’s gentle, but it still startles her. She looks at Laura, cuttingly suspicious, but there she is, Clint’s wife, her friend, sitting naked in a warm bath, holding out her arms. Natasha stands, and for a moment neither of them are sure if she’s going to stay. Slowly, she takes off her pants, then her shirt, then her underwear. Naked, Laura can see all the marks covering her, the dirt ground into her skin where her different pieces of clothing met, the dried blood and the less dried blood. Natasha climbs into the bath and sits.

Laura turns off the tap and waits for her to speak, but she just looks at Laura’s legs. It takes a few moments for her to guess what Natasha wants, but when she does, she opens her knees so Natasha can turn around and slide over. She presses her back against Laura’s chest, and Laura holds her in the heating water. She smells like gunpowder and blood. Laura reaches for the little water scoop she often has to confiscate from Cooper when he pours water over his sister. She begins to pour hot water through Natasha’s hair, getting it nice and wet. Natasha leans back into her, silent.

“Can you wash your ha-air?” Laura sings again, gently massaging shampoo into Natasha’s red locks. “I can wash my ha-air… can you wash your ha-air?”

Natasha doesn’t join in, so Laura keeps singing the line until she’s sure she’s got all the blood and dirt out of Natasha’s hair, then eases her down into the water so she can rinse out the shampoo.

“Can you wash your a-arms?” Laura coos, as she runs a rosewater-scented soap bar up Natasha’s arm to her shoulders.

“I can wash my arms,” Natasha whispers. Laura smiles. Natasha makes no move to take the soap from her, so Laura washes her arms.

“Can you wash your tum-my?” Laura sings, moving the soap down over Natasha’s navel. Her touch is firm, and she can feel that Natasha trusts her. The woman makes a half-hearted noise at the juvenile word, and Laura’s not sure if it’s a laugh or a sob.

“I can wash my… my tummy,” Natasha responds. Her voice is a little clearer this time.

“Can you wash your fa-ace?” Laura sings, and swivels Natasha slightly so the woman’s head is resting on her shoulder. She’s cradling Natasha in the water the same way she cradles Nate, and Natasha closes her eyes, letting Laura wash the grime and blood from her face.

Before too long, she is clean. Natasha clearly doesn’t want to leave the bath, so Laura just drains some of the water and puts the hot tap back on, hoping the worst of the dirt and blood will wash down the drain. She holds Natasha, still curled against her like a baby, and strokes her wet curls.

“Thank you,” Natasha whispers against her collarbone.

“You’re okay,” Laura soothes, the same thing she says to Nate when he’s fussing. “I’ve got you.”

Natasha squeezes her eyes shut, and she starts to cry. Laura just slides them down so only their heads are above the warm water, and wraps her up in a tight embrace. Natasha cries until the water starts to cool, and Laura helps her stand on shaky legs and step out of the tub. She drains away the water and wraps Natasha up in a towel, just like Clint wrapped up the kids, and it’s almost like Natasha is one of them, Laura thinks, only it’s a thousand times more complicated and there are histories and feelings that make the comparison difficult, but looking at Natasha, tired and wrapped up in a fluffy towel, it’s hard for Laura not to feel maternal.

“You okay?” she murmurs. Natasha nods, but when Laura goes to leave the bathroom first, she feels Natasha’s hand grab her elbow. She stops, and then starts again, letting Natasha hang onto her as they walk towards the bedroom.

Clint is sitting up in bed, reading. Natasha lets Laura pull a shirt over her head, and steps into a pair of sweatpants. She crawls up the bed and rests on Clint’s shoulder. Laura smiles at the sight, and the look of relief on Clint’s face makes it even better. Laura puts on her pyjamas, and settles in beside the pair of them. Natasha rolls to her, and Laura snuggles down into bed, her arms around Natasha. Clint turns off the lights and rolls in, embracing her from behind.

Natasha falls asleep wrapped up in the arms of the two people she loves and trusts most in the whole world. For just a little while, everything is clear, warm, clean. She dreams of bubbles and laughter, and everything is a little more okay.

#fic #clintnatlaurafic #clintashafic #clintashahc #long #clintasha #fanfiction #clint barton #natasha romanoff #laura barton #barton family ot3 #clint/nat/laura

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dweemeister · 5 years

Text

2019 Movie Odyssey Award for Best Original Song (final)

*breathes deeply*

TAGGING: @cokwong; @dansmonarbre; @emilylime5; @fredsbarandgrill; @halfwaythruthedark; @ideallaedi; @introspectivemeltdown; @loveless422 (of @classicladiesofcolor administering); @maximiliani; @memetoilet; @mindo80; @monkeysmadeofcheese; @myluckyerror; @nazur; @phendranaedge; @plus-low-overthrow; @shadesofhappy; @stephdgray; @themusicmoviesportsguy; @theybecomestories; @umgeschrieben; @underblackwings; @yellanimal.

And also tagging a few first-timers or those who haven’t done this in a while: @astorytellertothestars; @bitch-genius; @dog-of-ulthar; @ineedanumbrella; @jayb3; @kataka-taka; @nudehearth; @shootingstarvenator; @thethirdman8; @thewolfofelectricavenue; @voicetalentbrendan; and @wehadfacesthen.

This is not the latest we've ever started the final round, but here we go!

For those who participated in the preliminary, I thank you for your time, but we're not done quite yet. The madness has only begun. After a chaotic end to the preliminary round in which contenders crashed out and unheralded underdogs rose in the final hours, who knows who takes this final? For the uninitiated, I have an Oscar-like ceremony on my blog celebrating all the movies of that year’s Movie Odyssey (all the movies I saw for the first time in their entirety) at the year’s end. For the last five years, I have asked family and friends to help out with the Best Original Song category - because in all other categories, you'd be forced to watch entire movies to decide it. This is a musical thank-you to those, who have contributed, in their own ways, to support the Movie Odyssey and me over the last calendar year.

I normally would have known if I would have asked folks to help participate in MOABOS around the end of summer. But due to work commitments, I had no idea whether or not we would be doing this as late as mid-October. I consider it very fortunate we were able to get this off the ground this year - some of you, interestingly enough, look forward to this every year for some strange reason.

As a result of this year's limitations, this is the one of the most monolingual fields we've ever had in a final. But that's not to besmirch the quality of music seen here. In one notable piece of MOABOS trivia, a Vietnamese-language song has reached the final for the first time. A record two songs in the final are from a documentary film (albeit they are from the same documentary).

INSTRUCTIONS Please rank (#1-15) your choices in order. The top ten songs will receive nominations. The tabulation method used in the preliminary round is being used for the final only as the second tiebreaker (the tabulation method that will be used principally for the final - aka "single transferable vote" - is described in the "PS"). There is no minimum or maximum amount of songs you can rank, but because of the nature of single transferable vote, it is highly recommended to rank as many songs as possible, rather than only one or two. Those who rank fewer songs run a greater risk of their ballots being discarded as I am counting the ballots. Again, this is all described in the "PS". Why not implement at a minimum number of songs to rank? Well, I believe in giving you folks as much freedom as possible.

Please consider to the best of your ability: how musically interesting the song is (including and not limited to musical phrasing and orchestration); its lyrics; context within the film (contextual blurbs provided for every entry for those who haven't seen the films); choreography/dance direction (if applicable); and the song's cultural impact/life outside the film (if applicable, and by far the least important factor). Imperfections in audio and video quality may not be used against any song. I encourage you to send in comments and reactions with your rankings - it’s always fun to read reactions to individual songs, and it usually makes the process (for everyone) more enjoyable!

The deadline for submission is Tuesday, December 31 at 7 PM Pacific Time / 5 PM Hawai'i / 6 PM Alaska / 9 PM Central / 10 PM Eastern. If you're across the Atlantic, that's New Year's Day at 3 AM GMT / 4 AM CET / 5 AM EET. There will be no deadline extensions.

The fifteen finalists (to access the below via YouTube playlist, click here... please keep in mind many of these finalists are meant to be watched and listened to):

“Are We Dancing?”, music and lyrics by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman, The Happiest Millionaire (1967)

Performed by John Davidson and Leslie Ann Warren

After convincing her father to let her attend boarding school, Cordy Biddle (Warren) meets Angier “Angie” Buchanan Duke (Davidson in his film debut) at a social dance. Cordy, stressing herself too much in believing that she must go out of her way to attract a boy, is pleasantly surprised by Angie’s taking to her. Just before the song, she initially dismisses waltzes as a dance, “for old people” - repeating a line her father said once. The song’s melody is quoted occasionally in the film’s score.

“Crazy World”, music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, Victor/Victoria (1982)

Performed by Julie Andrews

Victoria Grant (Andrews) is a woman playing a man named “Victor” who is impersonating a woman. Victoria, as Victor, has become the hit vaudeville act of Paris. This is Victoria’s first performance as “Victor” not pretending to be a woman. Is your head spinning yet?

“Detroit”, music and lyrics by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman, The Happiest Millionaire

Performed by John Davidson and Lesley Ann Warren

(partial use in film)

Lovebirds Cordy Biddle (Warren) and Angier “Angie” Buchanan Duke (Davidson in his film debut) have been discussing their future together. Angie does not want to inherit his father’s tobacco business - instead wishing to head to Detroit to be a part of the automotive industry (the film is set in 1916, as the city was booming because of the auto industry).

“East Bound and Down”, music and lyrics by Jerry Reed and Dick Feller, Smokey and the Bandit (1977)

Performed by Jerry Reed

This is the theme song for this comedy, which also describes the plot somewhat. Smokey and the Bandit is about two truckers - “Bandit” (Burt Reynolds) and “Snowman” (Reed) - who have been offered $80,000 by a rich Texan to pick up 400 cases of Coors beer from Texarkana, Texas and return to Atlanta within twenty-eight hours. In 1977, Coors was only found in the Western U.S. and transporting it across Southern state lines was illegal (giving Coors a mystique in the Eastern U.S.).

“I Dug a Ditch”, music by Burton Lane, lyrics by Lew Brown and Ralph Freed, Thousands Cheer (1943)

Performed by the Kay Kyser Band, Kathryn Grayson, Georgia Carroll, Harry Babbitt, Sully Mason, M.A. Bogue, and chorus

NOTE: An entirely separate song, “Should I”, is integrated from 3:04-3:36.

Apologies for the text overlaying the video. The second half of Thousands Cheer is essentially an elaborate revue musical performance for American World War II troops in which the film’s initial pretense of attempting a story is entirely dropped. “I Dug a Ditch” is one of the songs appearing in the film’s second half.

“I Wish I Didn’t Love You So”, music and lyrics by Frank Loesser, The Perils of Pauline (1947)

Performed by Betty Hutton

Nominated for the Academy Award for Best Original Song

Based on the life of silent film actress Pearl White (played by Hutton), The Perils of Pauline sees Pearl become a star in silent serial films, garnering worldwide popularity. Complications with Pearl’s engagement and impending wedding/honeymoon with her partner force her to break the engagement and leave the film industry. Much later - far from Hollywood, feeling down - she auditions for a Paris nightclub with this song.

“(I’m Gonna) Love Me Again”, music by Elton John, lyrics by Bernie Taupin, Rocketman (2019)

Performed by Elton John and Taron Egerton

This is the first song played over the end credits of this biopic of Elton John. This is John and Taupin’s (John’s songwriting partner through the 1960s-1990s) first collaboration outside the Sherlock Gnomes series for this decade.

“The Joint Is Really Jumpin’ in Carnegie Hall”, music and lyrics by Roger Edens, Ralph Blane, and Hugh Martin, Thousands Cheer (1943)

Performed by Judy Garland and Jose Iturbi

The second half of Thousands Cheer - where this song is found - is essentially an elaborate revue musical performance for American World War II troops in which the film’s initial pretense of attempting a story is entirely dropped.

“Le Jazz Hot!”, music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, Victor/Victoria (1982)

Performed by Julie Andrews

Victoria Grant (Andrews) is making her Parisian debut playing a man named “Victor” who is impersonating a woman. The scheme was hatched by her friend, Carroll “Toddy” Todd (Robert Preston) - both of them desperate for money, and Toddy is the only one who knows that “Victor” is Victoria. Preston, Lesley Ann Warren, James Garner, and John Rhys-Davies, and Alex Karras are present in this scene.

“The Next Right Thing”, music and lyrics by Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez, Frozen II (2019)

Performed by Kristen Bell

Anna (Bell) has seemingly lost her friends and her sister at what is the lowest point in the film. Uncertain what to do, she recalls a small piece of advice that leads her forward.

“The Place Where Lost Things Go”, music by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Scott Wittman and Marc Shaiman, Mary Poppins Returns

(Initial performance) / (reprise)

Performed by Emily Blunt; reprise by Pixie Davies, Nathanael Saleh, and Joel Dawson

Nominated for the Academy Award for Best Original Song

This is a lullaby sung by Mary Poppins (Blunt) to the Banks children, who have lost their mother before the events of the film. The song was inspired by an idea from P.L. Travers’ Mary Poppins novels, in which Poppins takes Jane and Michael Banks (the aunt and father of the Banks children for this film, respectively) to the moon. There, they learn that the dark side of the moon is where things get lost. The song is referenced occasionally in the film’s score.

“The Shady Dame from Seville”, music by Henry Mancini, lyrics by Leslie Bricusse, Victor/Victoria (1982)

(Initial performance) / (reprise to be watched at your own spoiler-y risk)*

Performed by Julie Andrews; reprise by Robert Preston

*watch at your own spoiler-y risk because it gives away the film’s comical musical ending

Victoria Grant (Andrews), after making her Parisian debut playing a man named “Victor” who is impersonating a woman, has become the hit vaudeville act of Paris. This is one of her signature performances. Preston’s reprise - which appears near the film’s conclusion - was done in one take, hence his sweaty and fatigued appearance at the end.

“Suite: Judy Blue Eyes”, music and lyrics by Stephen Stills, Woodstock (1970)

(an excerpt of how this song is framed in the film)

Performed by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Brief Spanish lyrics sung in counterpoint

Directed by Michael Wadleigh, Woodstock was the official documentary film for the eponymous August 1969 music festival. The festival organizers retained film distribution and music recording rights. “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” refers to Stills’ thoughts towards his imminent breakup with folk singer Judy Collins. This song is composed in the form of a classical music suite (in layman’s terms, it sounds like an ordered collection of separate songs in one).

“Trường Tương Tư”, music and lyrics by Leon Le, Song Lang

Performed by Isaac and Liên Bỉnh Phát

Lyrics in Vietnamese

English translation and context are in the link.

“Woodstock”, music and lyrics by Joni Mitchell, Woodstock

Performed by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

This song appears in the end credits to Woodstock - the official documentary film for the eponymous August 1969 musical festival.

The winner is somewhere above. They will join a list that includes the following past winners:

2018: "Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing", Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing (1955)

2017: “Remember Me (Recuérdame)”, Coco (2017)

2016: "Stayin' Alive", Saturday Night Fever (1977)

2015: "Amhrán Na Farraige”, Song of the Sea (2014)

2014: "Rainbow Connection", The Muppet Movie (1979)

2013: “The Gold Diggers’ Song (We’re In the Money)”,Gold Diggers of 1933 (1933)

Go forth and listen! You may submit your responses in any way, as long as they come in before the deadline. I am free to answer any questions about anything you have about the process.

Happy listening, and have a happy holiday season as we conclude this decade (already?)!

TABULATION Like the preliminary... a respondent’s first choice receives 10 points, the second choice receives 9, the third choice receives 8, etc. HOWEVER, this points system is used only for tiebreaker purposes.

The winner is determined by a process called single transferable vote (the Academy Awards uses this method to choose a Best Picture winner, visually represented here - you should really watch this video if the below doesn't make sense... which it probably won't):

All #1 picks from all voters are tabulated. A song needs more than half of all aggregate votes to win (50% of all votes plus one... i.e. if there are thirty respondents, sixteen #1 votes are needed to win on the first count).

If there is no winner after the first count (as is most likely), the song(s) with the fewest #1 votes or points is/are eliminated. Placement will be determined by the tiebreakers described below. Then, we look at the ballots of those who voted for the last-placed song(s). Their votes then go to the highest-remaining and non-eliminated song on their ballot.

This process (in step #2) repeats until one song has secured 50% plus one of all votes. We keep eliminating nominees and transfer votes to the highest-ranked, non-eliminated song on each ballot. NOTE: It is possible after several rounds of counting that respondents who did not entirely fill in their ballots will have wasted their votes at the end of the process. For example, if a person voted the second-to-last place song as their #1, ranked no other songs, and the count has exceeded two rounds, their ballot is discarded (lowering the vote threshold needed to win), and they have no say in which song ultimately is the winner.

A song wins when it reaches more than fifty percent of all #1 and re-distributed votes.

Tiebreakers: 1) first song to receive 50% plus one of all #1 and transferred votes; 2) total points earned; 3) total #1 votes; 4) placement on my ballot; 5) placement on my sister’s ballot; 6) tie declared

#2019 Movie Odyssey Awards

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themalhambird · 6 years

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Hello again! Okay now that you wrote it in the tags of the last fic you wrote for me - I need one where Hal's telling bedtime stories to Henry because it's hard to articulate in words how pure that is. Thank you again!

No matter where he was, or what he was doing, Hal Monmouth Prince of Wales always made sure he was home by six o’clock, to read to his baby son. Little Harry Plantagenet had a book, which was not chewed because medieval books are very expensive and his mother Princess Cate never let him keep it in his mouth long enough to bite. But it was Little Harry’s favourite book nonetheless, and so Hal read it over and over to him. It was all about a knight who lost his horse, and it went a little like this:

“Is that my horse? It goes moo! That’s not my horse, that is a cow!” And then Hal would make a cow noise, which always made his son giggle. And the book went on: “Is that my horse? It goes, baa! That’s not my horse, that is a sheep!” And Hal would make the sheep noise, and that made his son laugh too. Hal liked making the animal noises, but he said to Cate: “This seems like a very silly way to try and find a horse. And not even Falstaff could manage to mistake a sheep for a horse!” Then he paused and added: “Well, maybe he could, or at least he might claim it’s a horse even though he knows full well it’s a sheep,” because his friend Falstaff could be very silly like that sometimes. And Cate, who was cuddling Harry on her lap, rolled her eyes at her husband and said:

“It eez a story for children, ‘Arry, not your cousin’s ‘unting manual. Eet does not ‘ave to be logical, just fun. Carry on, or it will be passed Henri’s bedtime and you will not ‘ave finished telling him his story!” But Hal put the book to one side and shifted closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“How about daddy makes up a story for you tonight Harry?” he asked. “It can go: “I’ve lost my daddy,” he put his hands over his face like he was playing peekaboo. “Is that my daddy? It goes “Sweet honey lord!” That’s not my daddy, that’s uncle Ned!”

Little Harry eyed his father doubtfully, and Hal cast around for an impression the baby might be more familiar with, because Poins was currently absent from Court doing spy stuff that meant he couldn’t be around so much. There had been absolutely no cold outright rejections of former friendships on Hal’s part, because this is a happy story and such things don’t happen in happy stories. “I’ve lost my daddy,” Hal said, “Is that my daddy? It goes-” Hal wrinkled up his face and in the bestest, grumpiest voice he could muster exclaimed: “Now, Harry!” This time baby Harry laughed and clapped his hand. “Granpa!” he said. Hal and Cate exchanged smiles.

“Clever boy!” Hal said. “That’s not your daddy! That’s your grandsire the King!”

“Is that my daddy? It goes woof, woof, woof, woof- get down!- woof woof! That’s not my daddy, that’s Cousin York being swamped by excitable puppies again! Is that my daddy? It goes ‘Anon, Anon!’ that’s Master Francis at the Boar’s Head- where I have definitely not taken our infant son,” he added hastily, as Cate’s eyebrows rose and she gave Hal a look that promised trouble if he wasn’t careful, “That’s not my daddy! Is that my daddy? It goes, uh, voulez vous coucher avec moi se soir? That’s not my daddy, that’s…the only bit of French I know, I’m trying to imitate your mother-”

“Mummy goes Bonjour mon petit!” Harry interjected, looking up at his mother and beaming.

“Your three year old is better at French than you are,” Cate said, with a smirk.

“Well, duh,” Hal retorted. “He’s half French! It’s an unfair advantage.”

Cate stuck her tongue out. “Is that my daddy?” she asked, “It goes “bler de bler bleurgh, ble blur.” That’s not daddy, that’s Uncle Humphrey doing an impression of daddy failing really really badly at speaking French!” she whispered conspiratorially in her son’s ear just loud enough for her husband to hear, and rewarded Harry with a kiss on his chubby cheek as he giggled and Hal glared in mock outrage.

“Is that my daddy?” he asked, wresting back control of the narrative, “It goes I looooove my hoooorse, my horse is my best frieeeeend! That’s not my daddy, that’s mummy’s annoying brother, my uncle Dauphin.” Then, before his wife could retaliate, “Is that my daddy? It goes Look you! That’s not my daddy, that’s Captain Fluellen. Is that my daddy? It goes MORTIMER! that’s not my daddy, that’s the Hotspur being grumpy as usual!”

“MORTIMER!” Harry repeated, clapping his hands in excitement while Hal cast around for another impression to do. “MORTIMER, MORTIMER, MORTIMER!”

“Your father is going to charge you with treason and banish you to King’s Langley with my sister, and brother in law,” Cate said, and Hal grinned.

“Is that my daddy? It goes “Here, cousin, seize the crown! That’s not my daddy, that’s uncle Richard! Do you remember when we took you to meet uncle Richard last week Harry?”

“Pretty hair,” Harry said solemnly. “Nice doggy. Can we go again?”

“Probably not for a while,” Hal admitted. “Granpa doesn’t like people going to see uncle Richard much. You see, ,once upon a time-”

“You are getting your stories mixed,” Cate said quietly. “perhaps you should save that one for another time? It is getting late, Harry must go to bed soon,” As she said this, Harry yawned and snuggled against his mother. Hal smiled fondly. “Of course,” he said, moving to bring the story to a close “Is that my daddy?” he asked, reaching out his hands. Cate passed Harry over to him as he went. “It goes: Harry you are the most precious thing on this earth and I love you to a million pieces! mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah!” he took Harry and pressed lots of his kisses to his tummy, and Harry giggled. “Daddy!” he said, and Hal smiled as he stood up, cuddling his son tight while Cate pulled back the bed clothes. They tucked their son in to bed together, both smiling down at him. “That’s right,” Hal said, stroking Harry’s soft, fluffy hair. “daddy loves you very much.” he pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead and tucked the blankets in around him.

“And mummy loves you very much,” Cate added, leaning in to kiss him as well. “Bonsoir, mon petit.”

“Night- night.”

“Bonsoir -night- night.” little Harry mumbled, eyes drifting shut as his parents blew out the candles. They turned to each other, smiling through the now-semi darkness as they took hands and Hal caught his wife’s lips in a kiss.

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi se soir?” he murmered, and Cate laughed quietly.

“Oh, oui,” she agreed, and they both tiptoed quietly out of their son’s room and towards their own

#dear terry Pratchett I am so very sorry #roughly based on Sir Terry's where's my cow which I have never actually read #anyway: enjoy the tooth rotting fluff #and the suggestive french #and my efforts to scrounge up catch phrases from Shakespeare characters who don't really have one #except of course fluellen #Gower couldn't make it he's too busy sulking over England loosing the rugby (and fluellin celebrating by pinning leeks everywhere)

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bloojayoolie · 6 years

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Andrew Bogut, Bones, and Cats: 2 V2 YRS 53 LES %2 IM YOURS EET BOY SAMESOME AWESOME AN HAPPY BO JUST WANTS LOVE OFA TREVOR ID# 54179 NIATAN ANİMeUCAReCENTER INTAKE DATE: 02-05-2019 A volunteer writes: Trevor sat quietly in his kennel when I was there to take him for a walk. I leashed him easily and we were off to the park. He is a great walker and hardly pulls at all. He takes treats gently (and prefers the soft ones over hard milky bones). Someone has definitely taught him some manners because he sat down right away when I pulled out the bag of treats, so he was well aware that a nice sit will optimize his chanses of getting those goodies. Trevor seems to be a great and happy dog that just wants some love, and I hope that he gets it soon! With his petite size he will fit perfectly in a NYC apartment. TREVOR, ID# 54179, 2 yrs and 6 mos old, 53 lbs, Manhattan Animal Care Center, Large Mixed Breed Cross, Brown Male, Owner Surrender Reason: Shelter Assessment Rating: Medical Behavior Rating: Yellow MEDICAL EXAM NOTES DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: 2 Microchip noted on Intake? NONE Microchip Number (If Applicable): History : ACCORDING TO O ---BEHAVIORAL ISSUES WITH CHILDREN; PLAYS ROUGH CANNOT BE WITH CHILDREN Subjective: BRIGHT RESPONSIVE; NERVOUS Observed Behavior - NERVOUS; MUZZLED Evidence of Cruelty seen - NONE Evidence of Trauma seen - NONE BAR H PINK 1 SEC 101.2 EENT: MUZZLED; Eyes clear, ears clean, no nasal or ocular discharge noted Oral Exam:LIMITED; BUT TEETH NOTED-- BRIGHT WHITE AND CLEAN PLN: No enlargements noted H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupnic ABD: Non painful, no masses palpated U/G:MALE INTACT-- 2 DOWN MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: Mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment BEHAVIORAL ISSUES-- CAUTION AROUND CHILDREN Prognosis: Plan: REC'D BEHAVIORAL COUNSELING AND LIMITED EXPOSURE TO CHILDREN TILL BETTER ASSESSED AND TRAINED SURGERY: NEUTER ASAP L V T Notes: 7:18 AM Microchip Scan: negative, placed Evidence of Cruelty: no Observed Behavior: allows all handling Sex: intact male Estimated Age: reported ~2ys 6 months Subjective: o/s, seemingly healthy Eyes: clear Ears: clean Oral Exam: mild staining Heart: WNL Lungs: WNL Abdomen: WNL Musculoskeletal: WNL BCS 5.5/9 Mentation: BARH Preliminary Assessment: seemingly healthy Plan: DVM intake https://www.nycacc.org/adopt/trevor-54179?fbclid=IwAR0g1QAc_3-cMA_2OfK4pdL085ZP23sEKGYashmWbm8jLWZE-TSegtbB4qM *** TO FOSTER OR ADOPT *** If you would like to adopt a NYC ACC dog, and can get to the shelter in person to complete the adoption process, you can contact the shelter directly. We have provided the Brooklyn, Staten Island and Manhattan information below. Adoption hours at these facilities is Noon – 8:00 p.m. (6:30 on weekends) If you CANNOT get to the shelter in person and you want to FOSTER OR ADOPT a NYC ACC Dog, you can PRIVATE MESSAGE our Must Love Dogs page for assistance. PLEASE NOTE: You MUST live in NY, NJ, PA, CT, RI, DE, MD, MA, NH, VT, ME or Northern VA. You will need to fill out applications with a New Hope Rescue Partner to foster or adopt a NYC ACC dog. Transport is available if you live within the prescribed range of states. Shelter contact information: Phone number (212) 788-4000 Email [email protected] Shelter Addresses: Brooklyn Shelter: 2336 Linden Boulevard Brooklyn, NY 11208 Manhattan Shelter: 326 East 110 St. New York, NY 10029 Staten Island Shelter: 3139 Veterans Road West Staten Island, NY 10309 *** NEW NYC ACC RATING SYSTEM *** Level 1 Dogs with Level 1 determinations are suitable for the majority of homes. These dogs are not displaying concerning behaviors in shelter, and the owner surrender profile (where available) is positive. Some dogs with Level 1 determinations may still have potential challenges, but these are challenges that the behavior team believe can be handled by the majority of adopters. The potential challenges could include no young children, prefers to be the only dog, no dog parks, no cats, kennel presence, basic manners, low level fear and mild anxiety. Level 2 Dogs with Level 2 determinations will be suitable for adopters with some previous dog experience. They will have displayed behavior in the shelter (or have owner reported behavior) that requires some training, or is simply not suitable for an adopter with minimal experience. Dogs with a Level 2 determination may have multiple potential challenges and these may be presenting at differing levels of intensity, so careful consideration of the behavior notes will be required for counselling. Potential challenges at Level 2 include no young children, single pet home, resource guarding, on-leash reactivity, mouthiness, fear with potential for escalation, impulse control/arousal, anxiety and separation anxiety. Level 3 Dogs with Level 3 determinations will need to go to homes with experienced adopters, and the ACC strongly suggest that the adopter have prior experience with the challenges described and/or an understanding of the challenge and how to manage it safely in a home environment. In many cases, a trainer will be needed to manage and work on the behaviors safely in a home environment. It is likely that every dog with a Level 3 determination will have a behavior modification or training plan available to them from the behavior department that will go home with the adopters and be made available to the New Hope Partners for their fosters and adopters. Some of the challenges seen at Level 3 are also seen at Level 1 and Level 2, but when seen alongside a Level 3 determination can be assumed to be more severe. The potential challenges for Level 3 determinations include adult only home (no children under the age of 13), single pet home, resource guarding, on-leash reactivity with potential for redirection, mouthiness with pressure, potential escalation to threatening behavior, impulse control, arousal, anxiety, separation anxiety, bite history (human), bite history (dog) and bite history (other). New Hope Rescue Only Dog is not publicly adoptable. Prospective fosters or adopters need to fill out applications with New Hope Partner Rescues to save this dog.

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #Andrew Bogut #Bones

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kaitymccoy123 · 7 years

Text

Do You Trust Me?

Intro: So this is for Trek Fest 2017 Chekov’s Week! Hosted by the ever-so-lovely @outside-the-government!

Pairing: Chekov x reader

Word Count: 3,800ish

Summary: You are sent on an away mission with young ensign Pavel Chekov and it doesn’t go as planned. When life-and-death situations and feelings mix, can you sort it all out and get to safety? What does all this mean to your and Pavel’s relationship?

A/N: So my idea for this one came from two places:

1. One of my drabbles from my 800 follower drabbles that involved Pavel and the reader who was Bones’ brother. I just love the idea so this is a little extension on the drabble!

2. Also I got a request from someone a little while ago with the prompt: "we're undercover and we HAVE to kiss to maintain our cover and oops I've just realized I'm in love with you" - The request was specifically for Jim, which I still plan on doing for Jim, but I wanted to use that idea for this one - whoops!

-Enjoy!-

“I don’t understand why they had to send me down here, I’m an engineer, not an explorer.” You grumbled as you trudged through the thick forest landscape.

“I belief that you were chosen for your expertise in identifying foreign metals.” The chirpy, heavily accented response came from the yellow-shirted ensign that was trudging beside you.

“Yeah, there seems to be so much metal around here to identify.” You droned sarcastically, gesturing to the endless span of trees and foliage.

Pavel chuckled next to you.

“What’s so funny?” You snapped, cutting through a bough of vines especially hard.

“You sound just like Dr. McCoy.” He noted, and you threw a glare to the young navigator.

“Well he is my big brother, so it’s fitting, I guess.” You grumbled.

Ducking through some branches, you picked up the pace and were a few steps in front of Pavel when you felt the whoosh of the arrow brush past your ear. Suddenly, you were hurled sideways and against the forest floor, a heavy weight on top of you.

The weight turned out to be Pavel, and his body was pressed directly on top of yours, his face hovering above yours, his breath ragged.

“Are you alright?” He worried, his eyes roaming your face for signs of injury or pain.

“Other than the fact that you are crushing me, I’m fine.” You breathed, your voice lacking the sarcastic tone that you tried to elicit.

Pavel stayed frozen on top of you, and as you heard the crunching of footsteps stalk by Pavel’s muscles tensed over you protectively, and you felt a flash of heat rush to your cheeks.

Once the threat was gone, Pavel looked back down to you, his grey-blue eyes meeting yours softly, reassuringly, and you were surprised with how little fear his gaze revealed.

“Thank you, Pavel.” You whispered, barely able to get words past your lungs.

“You do not need to thank me.” He exhaled, pushing up off you slowly and helping you sit up next to him, your bodies still hovering close together.

“Are you injured?” He brushed his fingers through the hair above your ear.

“I-I don’t think so.” You stuttered and leaned towards him instinctively.

For a second you though he might kiss you, but the moment soon passed and he was standing, leaving you breathless.

“Let’s get going.” He smiled down at you, clearly proud of the shivering mess he left you in.

“Do you trust me?" He offered his hand and tilted his head curiously.

After a second’s hesitation and a million flutters of your nervous heart you reached up and took his hand.

The jungle seemed endless as you continued through, Pavel consistently at your elbow, both of you silent except for the sound of your laboured breathing. The heat was nearly unbearable, and you quickly came to despise the transporter team for making you wear the protective thick leather jacket and heavy-duty pants.

Neither of you mentioned your almost-kiss and the fact that he had saved your life. And just as you felt like you were about to collapse in heat exhaustion, the jungle abruptly ended.

A city emerged in front of you, and you could nearly walk the line that indicated where the jungle ended and the city began. It was ragged and dusty, sharp metal buildings sprung up everywhere, stalls lining both sides of the narrow streets. People were scattered everywhere. Sellers behind the stalls, people buying and yelling and trading with them. It was like the dense forest had been traded for the city. Instead of trees there were people, and it was nearly as suffocating.

You approached the edge slowly, taking in everything, your eyes catching on all the different types of metals and structures scattered around, some that you didn’t even recognize.

“Okay, I get why they sent me down here now.” You gulped, stopping just before crossing over the threshold into the city, Pavel bumping into your shoulder at your abrupt halt.

“Let us go find the metal we came for.” Pavel said from behind you.

You looked up at him and he nodded in the direction of the nearest street. As he started forward, you stopped him with a hand on his arm before he could advance any further.

“We should be careful. See how their skin is such a bright colour compared to our? We will stick out like a sore thumb if we just dive right in. We should cover our skin first.”

“Right.” Pavel stepped in front of you and drew your hood up over your head.

The scarf that hung loosely around your neck you pulled up to cover your mouth and nose, and Pavel helped tuck the corners in under your hood.

“Okay, I can see just your eyes now.” He nodded, “What about me? I don’t have a scarf.”

You swung your backpack around to your front and dug around until you found the extra scarf you had packed, “It was going to be for any geode specimens we found, or to trade for metals, but it should work in a pinch.”

He smiled down at you as you slipped the scarf around his neck and helped arrange his disguise the same way you had with his, and soon his soft grey eyes were the only thing peeking out.

“Perfect, now just keep your hands in your pockets and we should be pretty well hidden.” Both of you tucked your hands in your pockets and you set out into the city.

It was almost overwhelming how quickly you were swept up into the hustle and bustle of the streets. Seller’s carts lined each side of the street, and you had to squeeze through what seemed like hundreds of people as you made your way through the streets. You kept your eyes peeled for any sign of the illegal metal you were sent here to look for.

You were sweating and panting under the hot sun and covered disguise, and you could hear Pavel’s quick breaths behind you. Finally, out of the corner of your eye, you saw the reddish tint of the metal you were looking for.

“There.” You said under your breath to Pavel, who followed your gaze to the stand with the metal scraps.

“We must be wery careful, Y/N,” He nudged your elbow to stop you, “It does not look so safe. It looks very dark and the man behind the counter does not look very friendly.”

You surveyed the unnaturally shady tent and the man with the large muscles and a deep scowl behind the counter.

“It’s alright, we just need to ask a few questions, maybe purchase a piece to examine. We’re not here to capture them or anything.” You tried to keep your voice as even as possible and refused to meet his eyes as you pushed off Pavel and headed towards the counter.

You tried to remember the training that Uhura, Spock, and Scotty had given you in regards to dealing with foreign exchanges and this type of rare metal. But all of a sudden your mind went blank and the voice of your concerned brother played over in your head.

"Now don't go around making anyone mad or anything, you hear?"

"Because you do that. Make people mad. For example, me, on a daily basis."

"If you get hurt I will kill you. Well I'll kill Jim first for sending you on this mission, then you. And maybe him too." Leonard gestured to Pavel.

Pavel who was pushing softly at your shoulder-blade with his elbow. You must have stopped walking.

“We can go back eef you wish. Meester Scott said if eet was too dangerous he would beam us up.” Pavel had dipped his head to your ear, and you could feel the heat radiating off his skin.

You shook your head, “I’m fine.” You mumbled and stepped forward again, pulling your shoulders up and taking a deep breath.

The man behind the counter barely lifted his eyes to look at you as you surveyes the table coolly, just as Uhura had taught you. With interest, but not with accusation, even if the metals were being manufactured by women and children slaves.

“Can I help you?” A deep, grumbly voice sounded, but you kept your eyes on the metals.

“Thess is exaactly tha type oof metals I need furr my maachine baack home. Light aand sturdy aand strong.” You slipped into the accent Uhura and you had practiced.

Using your fingertips, you played with the edge of a piece, but pulled back when you felt the man behind the counter tense.

“Where you from?” He snapped.

The name of the planet rolled off your tongue just as you’d practiced as well. A bead of sweat dripped off your eyebrow onto your cheek, making you blink a few times.

The man regarded you for a second and you made the mistake of looking up into his eyes, adrenaline flooding your system at his paralyzing gaze.

“I do not deal to humans.” He spat the word as if it stung his tongue.

“But we aare not earthlins...” You started, stuffing your hands into your pocket when you realized your error.

“I do not deal to humans. Especially not Federation scum.”

“No-”

“What is that in your bag?!” Your eyes snapped up at his angry voice, but the man’s eyes weren’t on you. They were on Pavel.

You spun on Pavel and searched his frozen face as he carefully said, “Nothing, sir.” But your eye caught on the reddish tint in his bag as he adjusted it over his shoulder.

“You are stealing. The punishment for stealing on this planet is death. Anugh, Ugtha, seize them.” The man barked, and an equally scary man and woman emerged from the shadows on command.

You backed up into Pavel and his hand caught your elbow.

“Seize them!” He demanded and a flush of panic hit you.

“Run.” The word was whispered into your ear and then yelled, “RUN!”

Pavel’s hand on your elbow was now dragging you as he darted forward. You only had a moment to hesitate before you saw a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye, the two guards, and you took off after Pavel.

The two of you surged through the crowd together, pushing past people as fast as you could, while trying not to lose sight of Pavel ahead of you. You wound down streets, skidding around corners and trying not to trip over your own two feet.

Finally, you ended up in a narrow alley and nearly slammed into the back of Pavel.

“What-?”

“Eet’s a dead end.” He turned around and you could see the worry in his eyes.

You could barely catch your breath as you searched the surrounding streets, spotting the guards at the far end of one of the stalls.

“They’re o-over there. We-we can’t-go-back.” You stuttered through heaving breaths.

“I’ll call for Meester Scott.” He reached for his com, but you stopped him.

“There’s no time, they’ll see us.” You worried, pushing his hand away and stepping closer to him.

The alley was narrow enough that with your proximity you were nearly pressing him into the wall. Both of your chests heaved, and you were overwhelmed by the dizzying warmth of the air between you two. Sweat stung your eyes and your hair was plastered to your head under the scarf and hood, but still you pressed closer to Pavel.

You took one more look to see the guards nearing your spot and you turned back to Pavel, tugging your scarf down over your mouth.

“Kiss me.” You breathed.

“Wha-?” His brows furrowed.

“Kiss me.” You tugged down his scarf, “Just do it.”

Pressing yourself fully against his chest, you were close enough that your hoods almost touched. Your heart hammering in your chest, you stuck your hands in between his hood and his cheeks to cradle his head and hide your hands. And, before you could think about it any further, you crushed your lips to his, hiding both your faces in between your hoods.

There was a moment of breathy awkwardness until he tightened his grip on your hips, sliding his hands into your pockets to hide his hands. It was awkward, but it worked.

The kiss was hot and sweaty and salty but never-the-less sent shivers down your spine as you pulled him closer, not able to get enough of his soft lips and the feeling of his body on yours. You kissed him for as long as you dared before pulling back an inch to allow you both to catch your breath.

Pulling him close again, you hugged him and tilted your head just a little so you could survey the streets.

“No sign of the guards.” You whispered.

“Then I will call Meester Scott.” Pavel’s voice sounded surprisingly strained as he removed one hand out of your pocket to grab his com, but still kept you close.

After a few curt words you felt the familiar tug of the transporter, and you instinctively kept your tight grip on Pavel as the world faded away and the blinding metal of the transporter room appeared.

You stepped back from him as soon as you could, but you couldn’t tear your gaze from his eyes. That was until the sound of your brother’s voice echoed through the room.

“What the hell was that, Y/N?” His dark haired, blue-shirted form appeared in your line of vision as you wrenched your eyes from Pavel’s.

“That was us, you know, not dying?” You offered, but you had no energy to be snarky.

“Well you got a little to close for my liking.” Leonard grumbled, stepping closer and scanning you with a tricorder.

“’m fine, Len.” You brushed him off, stepping off the platform when pain suddenly lanced through your leg.

“Like hell you are.” He knelt in front of you and used a pair of medical scissors to cut off your pant leg at the knee, revealing a nasty gash that was still oozing blood.

You hissed as he pressed a piece of gauze to it.

“I deedn’t notice you were injured, Y/N, you should haff said something.” It was a soft voice now, Pavel, who you had forgotten about for a moment.

Peeling your eyes open, you looked at him, an expression of worry and concern laced over his features as he tugged his hood down and pushed a hand through his unruly curly hair.

“It’s okay, Pavel, “You assured, “I didn’t even notice, must have been the adrenaline and all. I don’t even know when it happened.”

“Let’s get you down to the medbay, this’ll need a few rounds of the dermal regenerator.” Leonard stood and moved to hook your arm over his shoulder.

Addressing Pavel, Leonard tipped his head, “You alright, kid?”

Pavel nodded, “Yessir.”

“Of course you are.” Leonard mumbled sarcastically and before you could defend Pavel he was dragging you out the door and down the hall towards the medbay.

“I’m fine, Len. I don’t need to stay the night here. You already wouldn’t let me go to my quarters to shower, and I had to use the tiny one here. You owe me. I just want to curl up in my bed and go go sleep.”

“Fine. Go. But I want to see you here tomorrow for a check-up.” Leonard grumped and stalked out of the patient room you had been assigned, leaving you alone.

“Sure thing, doc!” You called grumpily, feeling especially irritated.

You wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and go to sleep for the next eternity, so you gathered your items from the room and walked out into the bustling medbay.

As you headed for the doors, a flash of motion caught your eye and you turned to see Pavel, who had stood up as you passed. He was still dressed in his mission outfit, with dirt and dust covering the outside and streaks of it still on his face. His eyes were worried, tired, and your heart melted a little at the sight of him.

“Y/N. How are you feeling? I am sorry that you got injured, I deedn’t know, I was focused on getting avay from those guards. I am sorry.” He dug his toe into the ground as he spoke, and wrung his hands in front of him.

“It’s okay, Pavel. It’s not your fault.” You sighed, you were so tired. “Have you been waiting here the whole time?”

He nodded, “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” His voice was soft, apologetic.

“You didn’t have to.” You rubbed your eyes and yawned, “You could have at least gone and showered or something.”

He didn’t respond except to scratch the back of his neck and look over at you. The memory of that heated, salty kiss in the alley flashed through your mind and you straightened your shoulders a little bit.

“Did you want to come to my room and shower? You can stay the night if you want.” You offered, something about being so sleepy making you brave.

“No he can’t.” Leonard’s voice sounded behind you as he walked by, a tray in hand, and disappeared into a patient’s room.

“Yes you can. If you want to, I mean.” You corrected, throwing a glare in Leonard’s direction before turning back to Pavel.

“I, yes, I would like that, but I thought… well… I thought maybe…” He trailed off.

“You thought what?” You questioned and stepped forwards.

“That maybe you do not like me? Because I got us in trouble, I got you injured.”

You shook your head, your heavy eyelids nearly forcing your eyes shut, “I like you, Pavel. I kissed you, remember?”

He dropped his hands to his side and gazed innocently at you, “I remember. I just thought maybe that was just so we could escape. I deed not know if eet meant anything.”

“That was part of it, but I do like you, Pavel. More than I thought I would, to be honest with you.” You cursed your exhausted brain for not filtering your words, “I don’t just go around kissing people, even if it is a life or death situation.” You took a breath, “Question is, do you like me back?”

You stared into his soft grey eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and you were about to turn and walk away, hurt, but then he nodded. Just the slightest inclination of his head, but it was accompanied by a furious reddening of his cheeks and you knew what your answer was.

“Come on, you need a shower, you look like you’ve been wrestling a donkey on a dusty road. And I’m about to fall asleep standing up, so let’s go.” You extended your hand towards him, palm up. “Pavel, come to bed with me.”

He looked at it for a second before meeting your eyes.

“Do you trust me?” You teased and finally a smile reached his lips.

His fingers, warm and soft, entwined with yours and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

A gentle feeling of safety washed over you as you walked together back to your room, and you realized that despite everything, despite your past, you trusted him.

-Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it!-

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed):@feelmyroarrrr @jefferson-in-the-tardis@anyakinamidala@digitalmoonhowell @fandomheadrush@kirkaholic123 @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @pinkamour1588@to-pick-ourselves-up-7@starmission @destielismymothership@curiosity-killed-the-speedster@mccoymostly @yoshiepic@yourtropegirl

#star trek #startrekfic #startrekdrabble #star trek one shot #trekfest2017 #Trek Fest 2017 #pavel chekov x reader #chekovxreader #pavelxreader #pavelchekov #chekov fic #chekov fluff

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dangoghz · 7 years

Note

Write a fic about dan and phil and the babadook

oh god i knew this would happen —-A Ball-Badook by dangoghsWord count: 1850 (i hav no lif)A/N: WH Y,, also dan and phil basically go to a gay ball with the Babadook as their chauffeur/host. Also I have never seen the movie and I dont know whether he actually talks and if he does he probably doesnt have a Russian accent but uh oh well—-When it happened, it was 11:59 pm and Dan and Phil were having cuddles on the couch while watching a Lord of the Rings movie. Phil had his arm around Dan and they were very cozy, with a mound of blankets surrounding them and the faint voice of Gollum yapping about the ring. Phil was leaning in for a quick kiss when the clock struck twelve, and then…something magical happened. The TV turned to static. The windows opened on their own. Their blankets ruffled and the furniture shook.And then they watched as an odd black creature with a top hat flew in. No, not flew in. There was a rainbow going through their window, which it appeared to be walking on as if it was solid. How a rainbow was visible in the middle of the night, neither of the boys knew. The creature stepped off of the rainbow and onto the soft living room carpet. Dan and Phil were shaking more than the furniture was now. What was this thing? How did it get in here?The black creature had a pair of terrifying, round eyes, and a mouth of small teeth that was permanently open. Its hands were spindly and as black as the night sky. “Hyello, children. I am the Babadook.”The Babadook, the Babadook! What a horrific name. Dan quivered in fear and squeezed closer to Phil. “Why are you here?” Phil questioned, always calm, always collected. He was scared, but he wasn’t about to show it.“Do not wurry, my chiyuld. I am here only to delyiver you to my yearly ball.”“What ball?” Phil replied. Dan was clinging to his boyfriend and staring at the Babadook like it was an alien. Which it very well could’ve been, to be honest.“Vell, my yearly Ball-badook, of course! Come, children. Stand up,” the Babadook ordered, waving with its spidery hands. Dan and Phil were in too much shock to disobey it, and they reluctantly disentangled and got up from the soft couch, still holding each other in latched fingers. Suddenly, after the Babadook twitched its hands again, the air became a rainbow prism swirling around the boys. Red and yellow and blue swarmed in all directions, with beautiful sparkles in every corner of the living room.“Danyul, vut is yoor favoreet color?” the Babadook asked.“Uh-uh-black?”“You are lying. I can tell. It is obviously peenk, baby peenk. Color of squooshy baby bottom.”“WHAT? N-no-”“Dan? Is he right? I thought you hated pink,” Phil chimed in. “I-uh-”“Does not matter. Please stand very straight, Daniel, or else this will not vurk.”Dan quickly straightened his back in fear. The Babadook swished its finger and sparks flew deafeningly towards Dan’s torso. Phil’s boyfriend shouted over the roar of the magic, “WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?” Phil couldn’t see his boyfriend anymore as he was completely enveloped in swirling glitter. “AHHH!”“What are you doing to him? Is he hurt?” Phil demanded the Babadook. If this fugly thing had inflicted even the slightest paper cut on Dan, Phil would grab it by the neck and toss it out the window.“Yolki palki, I am just changing his clothes! He is very weak boy, can’t stand a leetle discomfort!” Changing his clothes? Was this Cinderella or something? Then the sparkles parted with Dan and Phil could see him again. Except, his pajamas were gone, replaced by a lavish pink suit with a bedazzled tie. “There we go!’ Said the Babadook. "You look fabulous!” Dan adjusted his tie, blushing heavily. “Th-thank you? How-” he articulated, but was interrupted by the all-business creature.“Now, you, Pheelip. You like blue, no?”“Yes,” Phil agreed.“Okee.” And then, the magical Babadook did its thing, and there stood Phil in a dapper blue tuxedo. He had a rainbow bow tie about his neck, a foil to Dan’s sparkly. Dan couldn’t look away, because the ensemble matched Phil’s eyes perfectly.“This is amazing! How did you do that? Wait, how do you know our names? For that matter, how did you find our address?” “Eet is secret. Now, we must go, or else you vill be late.” Dan and Phil looked at each other, overwhelmed by this glorious Babadook, but they were curious as to where it would lead them, so they simply follow the Babadook to the magic carpet-like rainbow waiting at the window. It took off the black top hat it had worn on its head and gestured to the rainbow like they were supposed to just step on it. “But how does it work? What if you are tricking us and it’s an illusion and then we will fall and die?” Dan inquired. He squinted at their herald with suspicion. Why would this monster thing deliver them to a ball?“Shut up. You are a gud child, the world tyells me that, but you also very annoyeeng. I like you-”-he flicked a finger at Phil again-“byetter. Daniel, do you want to go to ball or not? Styep onto the rainbow.” Dan surrendered. “Fine!” he huffed, and stepped on the translucent rainbow carpet that stretched across the sky. Phil hurried after him, and lastly the Babadook came, closing their window behind it. They only had a moment to look out on the London skyline before the rainbow, like it was being pulled in on the other end, rushed away from their apartment building. “WhOAAAA!” Dan and Phil screamed. The Babadook simply stood stoically on the red stripe of the magic ribbon rainbow, and glared at them. “Whiny children. You make a fuss of nothing,” it remarked, leaning onto a metal cane blacker than even its dark hat. Even though the ribbon was moving at lightning speed, the three of them weren’t even wobbling. It was akin to the movement you would experience in a high-tech sideways elevator. In a couple of minutes, the rainbow finally stopped.Dan and Phil looked away from the Babadook and gasped. Rainbow columns and glorious staircases stood all around them. Guests danced dressed as colorfully as the Babadook had wardrobed them. Buffets lined the halls, where bodacious cakes of different pride flag color schemes and pizza for all resided. A disco ball refracted colorful little specks on the walls of a ….. magnificent rainbow palace. “Vyelcome to my house. A haven for everyone in LGBTQ plooss community.”“It’s…beautiful,” Dan murmured, memorizing every inch of it. “Thyenk you. Enjoy the Ball-Badook.” And with that, the Babadook bound away. Dan and Phil were both relieved to be rid of its horrid face and direly unnerved from cluelessness. “Should we…mingle?” suggested Phil. They appeared to know none of the people, and the other guests were very preoccupied with their friends and partners. Dan scrunched his pink-clothed shoulders from intimidation. “I-uh-can we not? If this is only an annual thing, I don’t want to be so preoccupied with meeting new people that I don’t enjoy it with you.” Phil shyly beamed, for he didn’t actually want to talk to the crowd either and because his boyfriend was being cute. “Of course.” With that, he took Dan in his arms and pulled him to the dance floor, where “Love Someone” by The 1975 was playing. Dan was startled with Phil’s spontaneity. How did he amaze him every time?They slow danced for a few songs, bathing in the rainbow reflections and soft atmosphere. The night had been quite wacky so far, but now the couple fekt safe and peaceful. It didn’t do harm that each of them couldn’t stop looking at each other because of their lovely custom outfits. In that moment, they were just in love with no one else in the world, and Phil leaned in for a snog and Dan leaned in too, and their lips were almo-“HEY NOW! YOU’RE AN ALL-STAR!” The tranquility was short-lived, and the calm harmonies of “For Him.” by Troye Sivan were interrupted by All-Star and the Babadook’s wretched voice. Dan and Phil broke apart, shocked. The second time their moment had been interfered with by this thing!“HYELLO MY VUNDERFUL GUESTS! VYELCOME TO THE BALL-BADOOK! IT IS NOW TIME FOR A SHORT DJ SESSION OF MY ALTERNATE PERSONA, DJ DOOK!!” tne Babadook shouted over Smash Mouth. “HYERE IS MY BOYFRIEND, SHREK, THEME SONG! ENJOY OR I WEELL KYILL YOU!”Somehow, Dan and Phil were not surprised that the Babadook and Shrek were lovers. They just grumbled in annoyance for the loud music. How long was the DJ Dook going to play for?“We might as well dance!” Phil yelled, chuckling. He grabbed Dan’s hand and twirled him round. They danced through “I’m a Believer”, “Mambo no. 5”, “Ice Ice Baby”, “Friday”, and “Spooky Scary Skeletons” before they were finally ‘ryick rolled’ by the DJ Dook. As “Never Gonna Give You Up” came to an end, Phil offered to grab them some drinks. Dan applauded the Babadook for a playlist that was simultaneously iconic and irksome. Phil returned shortly with two margarita glasses of a rainbow liquid. The bubbles inside wibbled and wobbled with the faint movements of Phil’s palms. “I’ve never seen this before. What’s it called?” Dan asked.“It’s called 'Liquid Love’. The barwoman said it was crafted by the Bar-Badook, the Babadook’s other persona.”“Uh. Okay. Toast to the Babadook?”“Sure.” They clinked their glasses, making the drinks fizz shimmeringly, and took a gulp each. What they didn’t know was that Liquid Love affected your heart, not other organs. Every emotion in it would be multiplied in power by 666. For Dan and Phil’s hearts, which were already bursting a lot more than the average couple with both love and lust for each other, this was NOT a good idea. “Whoa. I suddenly feel…extra gay. Phil, wanna climb on that chandelier and make out?”“Me TOO! You look like the hottest man on earth right now, Dan. I love your pants. Can i have them? Like now. As well, I comply one hundred percent to your chandelier concept.”——–

When they woke up, it was noon, and the rainbow of the palace had vanished. So were their gorgeous suits. Dan lifted his eyelids first to feel the comfort of blankets and his old couch. Phil was drooling on his chest. “Phil,” he whispered. “Mmmm??” Phil snuggled even closer. “Phil, it’s morning, and I don’t remember anything past when we took those weird drinks. Do you recall?”There was no response, so Dan took a totoro pillow and whacked him with it. “PHIL!”Phil opened his own eyes and looked up at Dan. He yawned adorably and stretched, accidentally hitting Dan in the nose. “Mmm… just that I felt really infatuated with you.”Dan narrowed his eyes playfully. “But aren’t you always, babe?”“Yes, but like extra.”Dan laughed. Suddenly he noticed a pastel rainbow post it stuck onto the couch. Scrawling handwriting in black ink was spurted across it. “You are byest guests I have hyad in a vile. You owe me nyew chandyelier, but eet ok. Sincerely, Babadook.”

#i wrote a 2k fic ab a fockicnc short lived meme omidgdhdh #thank u for the suggestion though i actually did enjoy writing it 😩 hopefully it satisfied ur love for the babadook #the tea #thesoftestboyes #my writing

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jasthelazyelf · 7 years

Photo

Since I finally made a good ref for my cin-buns, let me show you them in their true form o-o

SPECIES elves!!!! not demons or anything like that! NAMES Jasmin Peterson Kuria Ertel (Of course they used to have the same last name, but adoption happened) NICKNAMES Jasmin - Jas, elfi, pointed ear, elf Kuria - Kuri, quicky, elf GENDER both females AGE The Broken Promise story ends when they're 15, when they meet, they're 16 and (only Broken-World AU or your AU as well if you WANT TO) when they get to the Underrealm, they're 21 BIRTHDAY 13th August (yes, the same as mine, don't wanna change it after so many years) FAMILY they have only each other if we don't count their adoptive parents ORIGIN BOOM! FINAL VERSION OF THIS I HOPE! Both of them come from the Albenmark from Hennen's fantasy books! They were both cursed by the reincarnated shaman troll Skanga, when she wanted to murder the elves in the north so the trolls could live there again, but she didn't want more of "her" soldiers killed by the elves as well, so this was the easiest way for her. When the queen of Albenmark Emerelle heard about this, she couldn't find any other way to put the curse away, so they had to take them away. Through the net of "teleportation" paths going through different dimensions, their parents found a good dimension where the curse "softened". Aka the dimension of Broken Promise. They're still too young to cast magic, that's why they don't do any on their own. STORY here xD : VIZ My comic Broken Promise! >w< (yeah..... the very first version of this was even worse than it is now ._.) CATCHPHRASE "You swore on your life" or "You broke the that promise, remember? Now you'll pay". Sometimes nothing needs to be said. The flashbacks are often enough. WEAPONS daggers, they keep them in leather cases with colourful tapes - Jas has the one with dark green one, Kuria has with the tyrquise one CLOTHES Jas: green hoodie with darker dots, first she had a similar one, but with zipper, later she bought this one, without the zipper; black skirt, dark grey legins, grey shoes, red T-shirt Kuri: blue hoodie coming from darker shades to lighter ones, grey T-shirt, purple skirt, dark grey legins, black shoes NOTE: they agreed with these outfits when they were 17, before that they had various clothes! LOOK Jas: a bit paler than her sister, but has a bit darker hair, straight hair, green eyes Kuri: blonde falted hair, blue eyes Both of them are pretty thin but not too thin. HEIGHT both have 175 cm PERSONALITIES Jas: quiet, likes to listen to someone than speak, but friendly, when comfortable with someone, does the weirdest crap (who doesn't :"D), likes to think things through, protects Kuria with her own life Kuri: likes to talk to people, irascible, acts fast except when in life danger, then she preffers to think, stubborn, can be hotheaded at times, easily scared, shy at first SHIPPING Jas: (ONLY BROKEN-WORLD AU!!!) Jeff the Killer otherwise: none (meaning if you wanna ship her, you can, I guess, but it'll never be canon :"D ) Kuri: Flashie ( @suspiciousdragon , made cannon) LIKES Jas: reading fantasy, woods, animals, swimming, calm places, just being lazy in bed, pizza, steaks, sports you can do at home (absolutely not vegetarian) Kuri: small groups of people, going out (to have a chat, go see films, or just to have a nice walk! Absolutely not a drinking buddy!) nature, animals, chips (both the british and the american meaning of this word), cookies DISLIKES Jas: big concrete places (squares without anything etc...), big cities, broken promises, fish, big groups Kuri: fish, silence, broken promises, big empty rooms (can't explain why tho xD) FEARS Jas: clowns, spiders, doctors, syringes Kuri: being left completely behind, heights, mirrors FUNFACTS both: even though in Broken Promise story they don't meet, in the afterstory, Kuria moves with her parents to Jas's town and they meet there. Kuria is a bit too harsh to Jas, because her evil spirit completely forgot about Jas. They begin hunting together. (AGAIN- FROM NOW ON, ONLY FOR BROKEN-WORLD AU)Few months before they got to the Underrealm, in winter without any snow, Jas meets Jeff on her killing spree, because Kuria is sick and couldn't go. Although they didn't start the best way, they came to know each other better and fell in love. In the Underrealm, Kuria finds out Flashie when she is swimming aaaaand I don't wanna spoil you any further >:c . (FOR EVERY AU) They both can't have any children (missing eggs, so yeah, no chance) and yet they still have periods (too bad girls :"DDD) I don't know if it looks like it, but they have small breasts - again, it's because their kind of elves have small breasts. Elven facts (this'll probably be the point of pain, I can feel eet ._.) : They both have very good hearing and can hear even silent whispering of a person standing 10 meters away from them. In a thick layer of snow they leave no footprints, but as you can see in the comic, Kuria leaves them, because there isn't much of the snow. It's also impossible for the police dogs to get the scenth of them when girls are already gone. THINGS YOU CAN DO draw fanart (and make me very happy by that XD) role-play with them ship them (they are shipped already with characters I want them to be with, but if you no likey, show me your opinion :"D ) use them in your comic BUT I must know about it make them friends, enemies, frenemies etc... with your characters THINGS YOU CAN'T DO claim them as YOUR characters I guess that's all ._. if you have any questions about them, ask, I'll answer characters, art (c) me

#jasmin #jasmin and kuria #kuria #kuri #jas #creepypasta #creepypasta oc #creepypasta reference sheet #broken promise #broken promise twins

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ecotone99 · 4 years

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[HM] Willy Wonka’s Alternate Ending.

“Okay,” says the purple-suit clad man behind the desk. “Now we’re left with the difficult decision to elect one of you as the new owner of the Chocolate Factory.” “Alright Willy, you’re a numbers guy I know that, you and I are numbers guys right? Tell you what- I’ll buy the factory from you as is right now for one-million dollars” (in 1971 this is about $6.4 million) says Rupert reacting to the glaring eyes of his precious little Varuca. “How dare you wave your money in front of all of these children’s faces Rupert?” Grandpa Joe lashed out sternly “Can we hurry this up?” A very impatient Violet Bouregard would say “I’m already on my last piece of gum and this one is already tasteless.” “I’m sorry I haven’t spent the last 20 years dawdling in the comfort of a piss soaked mattress with three other people- if you cant afford it then buzz off!” Rupert reacted snidely, Grandpa Joe lurched foreword as if you take a swing- Frail and easy spoken Charlie gets in front of his grandpa and pushes him gently aside to diffuse the quarrel. “Mutter, wann werden wir essen?” Said Augustus Gloop, oddly-enough the only non English speaking person in the entire world who received a golden ticket from chocolate bars distributed randomly throughout the world, to his mother who quickly hushes him. “This is so lame, I’m missing BattleStar Galactica” said Mike Teevee “Isn’t this more interesting than TV?” Said Mrs. Teavee, rifled in anxiety

“Will you all just be quiet for a moment, while I figure this mess out?!?” Snapped Willy Wonka, suddenly taking on a more serious tone “In case you haven’t realized this wasn’t supposed to happen.” “Vhat Do you mean?” Pried Mrs. Gloop. “I had a test, you all passed.” “A test?” Said Grandpa Joe “Yes! I was supposed to tempt all of you with delicious candies that would prove to me who was in it for the win or who was in it for themselves.” “No offense Mr. Wonka” said Charlie “but that’s a rather awful test. I mean you made it explicitly clear we weren’t supposed to eat any of the candies. If only five children out of 3.7 billion people (the population size in 1971) were the only winners, I can only imagine that they would be on their best behavior to win such an opportunity.” “Yeah!” Said Varuca. “And what if everyone failed your test? Would you just remain here miserable as you say you are?” Willy Wonka grinned. “I mean in that case I’d probably just issue out five more golden tickets. You have no idea how high our shares went when the whole world was buying billions of dollars worth of chocolate bars...” “You’re insane! You’re... a genius!” Said Sam Beauregard enamored at the marketing opportunity. “But... what was supposed to happen if someone failed these tests.” Said Mrs. Teevee Willy Wonka pinches his eyebrows “Is that really important?” “Well I want to know what my child was signing up to?” “Okay, the first room, the chocolate river had numerous traps- the sticky lollipops that would catch your tongue, the chocolate river you could fall into, the pudding quick sand... all things to trap the first set of suckers who were not worthy of the factory. I’ll admit, when none of you fell victim I found myself wondering how the rest of this was going to work... Then there was the Everlasting Gobstopper that would’ve turned one of you into a big ass blueberry. Then there was the chocolate egg room that would lead to the trash chute. There was the horrible shrinking machine that would give one of you the shrinks, and oh dear- the heftily carbonated beverage that would chop you up into the fan above.” “Ch... chop us up?” Said Grandpa Joe. “Yeah, and Charlie really saved your ass telling you no back there. You old fuck. Maybe next time don’t give a child rebellious direction.” “THATS NOT THE POINT WONKA!” Screamed Sam Beauregard “YOU ADMITTED TO THE POTENTIAL OF ONE OF OUR CHILDREN BEING CHOPPED UP IN A FAN... IN FACT YOU WERE COUNTING ON IT.” Willy Wonka gave a snide grin and Shrugged “This is boring. Wonka, will you just take my daddy’s money and get on with giving me the factory? It’s not like you have anything else going for you.” Said Varuca angrily “How about, it’s a good thing your dad works in the business of Goobers because you’re fuckin’ NUTS if you think I’m going to give you a sure-in for this factory you little brat.” Rupert Salt lashes out angrily and grabs Wonka’s Petty coat only to be pulled from behind and restrained by 4 non-union employees of Wonka. “Let go of me at once!” Shouted Rupert struggling to break free of the Oompa Loompa hold “Oompa Loompa Dopple dee dock, in you resist I’ll punch you in the cock” one of them sang. “What do you get when you try to attack,” Willy Wonka chimed in “You get a kick in your tiny nut.. sack” rhymed the Oompa Loompas. The other members watched on in shock as Wonka just stood with a peculiar smile. “Look, guys, I really want to get outta here okay? So let’s make this a little bit easier. I’ll let you decide. Look deep within yourselves. Running a factory is hard work, you have to keep a schedule, pay your workers, pay your taxes, file your taxes properly as to not get audited by the IRS, Deal with customer complaints... at least hire a staff to do such affairs, marketing, dealing with investors and share holders etc. It’s not ‘fun’ because you get to work in a zany candy factory full of a bunch of tiny orange freaks, I get 7 OSHA complaints per month. Do you understand how high my Workman’s Comp. insurance is? Anyway. Whoever takes over has to run a really tight ship. Is there anyone who is willing to back out now?” Everyone stops and looks at each other, and thinks for a moment. “You know what? Yeah. I’m out.” Said Mike Teevee “Mike! What are you saying?!?” Said his mom. “This place sucks. There’s no tv. And for how hard Mr Wonka must work and worry, I don’t think I’d have anytime to watch anything. It’d be pretty damned miserable here. Plus, Jesus Christ everyone else’s name fits perfectly with ownership of a chocolate factory. ‘Charlie’s Chocolates’ rolls off the tongue, ‘Violet Beauregarde chocolate’ sounds very French and elegant. ‘Veruca Salt Chocolate’ makes sense because salt and chocolate go very well together, and ‘gloop chocolate’ sounds so delicious. Who the hell wants ‘teevee chocolate’? It wasn’t meant to be, Ma.” “But we’ve come so far Mikey! Don’t just abandon ship now.” “It’s too late mom, I’ve already decided. Good luck guys,” he said. And then he walked out of the room, followed by his frantic mother who began to cry as he walked off. “You’ve been quiet Augustus.” Said Wonka “How about you?” “Vhy vouldnt I vant diesces faktory? Alle dis choklat mmmm. I think I just eet und hav good time” “Are you shitting me kid? Have you ever seen ScarFace? ‘Don’t get high on your own supply’? Well don’t get fat on your own chocolate!” “Vhat do you mean?” “You can’t just eat all of the chocolate, every time your fingers and face are brown and sticky from the delicious brown residue of the refined cocoa bean, you’re losing tons of money in distribution.” “... oh.” Said Augustus, looming down at his shoes. He then pulls a Wonka bar from his pocket, and eats one delicious little square of milk chocolate goodness. He closes his eyes and slips into a mode of splendor. Swishing the chocolate around his mouth on his teeth, and tongue salivating his taste buds. “Er... I think I’m no” said Augustus “Du willst die Fabrik nicht, Augustus?” Said Mrs. Gloop to her son. “Mumie. Ich bin eine geile verdammte Schokoladenschlampe. Es macht meinen Schwanz wirklich hart. Aber wenn ich jeden Tag von Schokolade umgeben wäre, würde ich es leid werden. Die Neuheit, die der köstliche Geschmack von Schokolade ist, würde verblassen. Also, obwohl ich das Gefühl habe, ich werfe vielleicht meine einzige wahre Chance auf Glück weg ... Ich kann die Schokoladenfabrik nicht ehrlich besitzen. Ich denke, ich würde lieber das Leben eines Simp leben.” Mrs. Gloop looked to her son, inspired by his new-found restraint. As he, like Mike Teevee, in the second of honesty they allowed themselves, matured well past their age. They bid Wonka “Adieu” and walked out of the office.

“Okay, so if we’re clear- you three are what I have left?” Said Wonka “Oh please, it’s not like the others were great choices either.” Blurred out Violet. “Didn’t you learn something from them?!?” Said Wonka. “They looked within themselves and realized this isn’t the life they wanted! I’m sorry you can’t see past yourself!” Snapped Wonka “I mean Jesus Christ, why are you three here anyway?” “I... have nothing else... sir. If I don’t get this... my mother is still going to have to support my family. At least with the factory I can provide for my family.” Wonka grumbled, then clapped. “This is very noble of someone to hang in there.” “Yeah well I... uh... I think it’ll be really fun, and I don’t mind the work load. And I’m gonna revolutionize the gum industry” said Violet enthusiastically. “And Veruca?” “I am not leaving here until I own this factory.” Grandpa Joe shot Veruca a dirty look, then whispered to Charlie “I’m so glad your mother didn’t raise you to be a little shit like her,” “Grandpa. You laid in a bed for 20 years while my mother sold her soul to the man. You ‘magically got the ability to walk’ at the opportunity to tour a chocolate factory. The motivation to get a job to help your daughter provide for us should outweigh the motivation for this. So please Grandpa Joe, Please. Don’t lecture anyone on being ‘little shits’ because you’re the biggest shit here.” With that Grandpa Joe slumped back in melancholy.

“I’ve got an idea. We’re going to select the new owner of the Chocolate Factory by drawing straws!” A collective “What?” From all parties in the room. “Wonka, that’s rediculous. We’ve already proved that you can’t choose anyone based on your test, why not you just accept my money offer and give it to Veruca!” Said Rupert “Because I have a 2/3 chance of giving it to someone who doesn’t want the factory just to want it. One seeks adventure, the other seeks the True American Dream. You’ll sink this damn company into the ground with your sniveling and lack of heart. I’d tell you to get bent if it wasn’t written in the contract that all parties would receive a fair opportunity.” “I’m getting really impatient DADDY.” Said Veruca. “But honey, this is one problem I have run into I can’t solve for you. He’s not taking any money!” Said Rupert. “I don’t know daddy, offer him more. I want this chocolate factory and I want it now.” “My point exactly” chimed Wonka. “But Wonka,” said Grandpa Joe, “you can’t be serious, leaving the factory up to drawing lots? Why not just assess who has the best character and ability to run a company?” “Zues. Poseidon. Hades.” “What?!?” “Zues. Poseidon. Hades.” “I don’t follow.” “If you’re knowledgeable on your Greek Mythology you’ll know that Zues, Poseidon and Hades drew lots to determine who would rule over what. Am I to believe Zues was ‘supposed’ to rule over land and sky? It was by chance! What if Hades had drawn for the win? They all just ‘fit’ into their roles.” “That’s still preposterous. Zues, Poseidon and Hades are only Myths!” Protested Grandpa Joe. “Well news flash, if I went by ‘business sense’ I’d have to give it to Goddamn Veruca Salt. With her coming from wealth, and with her... albeit bratty ‘go getter’ personality, she’d be perfect for the chocolate factory; with a little restraint of course... I don’t think she ‘has’ it. But if a board was choosing between you three, theyd pick Veruca. But she’s been nothing but a goddamn asshole all day and frankly? I think her father is a quack. I don’t like them. So you’re drawing lots and you’re just going to have to deal with it okay?”

Wonka holds out three straws. Veruca picks first, naturally. Violet and Charlie lock eyes when they go to grab. Charlie awkwardly allows Violet to go first. She picks a straw. Charlie picks the last one. They then compare each others straws... Violets was the largest one. “Yes! Yes! I’ve won! I’ve won!” Violet shouts with her jumping up and down with her father. Veruca looks very sternly at her father who tries to interrupt the Beauregardes from their celebration with an offer. Charlie sheds a tear and looks down, Grandpa Joe chimes in “I guess we’ll just give this gobstopper to slugworth! It’s very clear that Wonka is just a fraud!” Slugworth walks in. “Sorry baby, the game was rigged from the beginning.” Everyone looks over at him. “Hey everyone, I came to congratulate Violet on her new Position at head of this fine factory,” “What... what’s going on?” Said Grandpa Joe. “He was my ace-in-the-hole” said Wonka. “WHAT?!?” Exclaimed a confused Grandpa Joe. “Slugworth is a colleague of mine. I asked him to approach all of you and offer insane riches to expose the recipe of the Gobstopper.” “Why... why would you...” “Because there’s one thing in this world I hate more than snot-nosed brats who don’t deserve the pile of shit they stand upon. It’s fuckin losers.” Said Wonka coldly to Grandpa Joe. “Enjoy your flat, I hope Charlie learns never to emulate your behavior.” Charlie bursts into tears. “I’m selling the factory to miss Veruca.” Announced Violet. “WHAT?!?” Shouted everyone. “Yeah; her dad offered me Five million dollars which will be worth around thirty two million dollars in the year two thousand and Twenty! Fuck this factory I’m rich!” Violet said and skipped away. “You... URGH GOD, I HATE YOU.” Shouted Wonka. “Should’ve taken the money, Wonka. I now own all the pensions and retirement plans, and you gave this factory away for free. Guess you’ll be sleeping in a bed for 20 years with your relatives too. Get the hell out of my factory you ghoul.” Wonka grabbed his plant and walked out of the office. Charlie and Grandpa Joe began to follow but were interrupted by Veruca “Wait.” Said Veruca “Why don’t you come work for me, Charlie. I know it’s not glamorous but at least you and your mom will get a steady paycheck to provide for your family... I need someone ‘normal’ to be within my employ anyway.” Charlie wipes a bit of snot away. “What will I be doing?” Veruca gave an amused smile. “Whatever you want, Charlie.”

Charlie became HR for the Oompa Loompas. He eventually would get them to unionize. Little did he know it, but Charlie’s role as Union Rep was a lot more meaningful to the Oompa Loompas than ownership. Veruca would eventually abandon the chocolate factory to Charlie after a new opportunity presented itself, in the form of becoming the proprietary investor in a small scale tech firm that began in the early 1980s. Augustus Gloop would take his experience from the chocolate factory and become an Olympic athlete in the swimming competition. He’d go on to win silver. Mike Teevee graduated tv in favor of small scale mid-1990s conspiracy theory videos. He would then go on to lead his own alt right conspiracy theory television show and immediately fall from Grace after many subsequent affairs. Violet Beauregarde met back up with Charlie 10 years later after creating a gum that would TRULY last forever. Charlie would buy the company and Violet would work in the gum division of the Charlie chocolate factory. Grandpa Joe retired to his bed which Charlie left him because fuck Grandpa Joe.

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demethinkstoomuch · 5 years

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Learning to Read, pt 5: E is for Etiquette

Chapters: 5/26 Fandom: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem Series Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro Characters: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Dedue Molinaro, Gustave Dominic, Original Characters, Rufus Blaiddyd Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Canon Compliant, Grief, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst, Fluff, Tragedy of Duscur, Racism, Developing Feelings, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Blue-Lions Typical Mental Illness

Summary:

A series of 26 alphabetically-titled vignettes examining the period where, in the wake of The Tragedy of Duscur, Dimitri taught Dedue to read: a time in which they learned about each other, and the rules of their relationship, perhaps more than about books.

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A is For Ambiguity

B is for Book

C is for Commendation

D is for Dining

E is for Etiquette

“Eet…” No, it might be short. “Eti…” Dedue considered the messy back half of the word written on the spine of the book before him. It had just happened to catch his eye when he was replacing something they’d been looking at in the library this morning, and it was a thorny title. The first word was fairly incomprehensible, but sounding it out, it sounded more like a name than a word. The second… If it was a word he knew, it couldn’t be Guard, unless R sounds could just vanish when written out, so maybe Guide? Someone’s Guide to… He nodded at it seriously. He didn’t know the word. He quietly took the book and returned with it to where Dimitri was waiting. He placed it down on the table with a thud slightly louder than he’d been expected, causing Dimitri to almost jump out of his skin.

“I am very sorry,” he said, and got waved off while Dimitri settled to look at the book. They’d been planning to head out, but Dimitri wasn’t in such a hurry that he didn’t have a glance to spare for it.

“Gwenolen’s Guide to the Etiquette of the Chivalric Court ? What made this catch your eye?” he asked, inspecting the book thoughtfully. His fingers made a little rainfall tapping against its spine.

“Its title was hard to read, so I grew curious.” Of course, the answer had nicely confirmed his guess. “Do you know what it is about?” Dimitri’s mouth pulled into a closed-up frown.

“Oh, it’s a famous manual of conduct for courtiers of all levels, sectioned by rank. Compared to other books like it, it’s not very much trying to pretend Faerghus is Adrestria, so it’s well-liked, I guess. I had to read a great deal of it in the past.” He looked at the book with his eyes tense; likely, that spoke to his feelings on it. He brought it back down to the table. “Chivalry are the ideals of a knight, and Chivalric, a term to refer to things supporting and supported by those ideals. Etiquette is the rules underlying polite conduct.”

“I thought the word for that was ‘manners,’” said Dedue, whose mother had clucked over the manners of her children until they were (mostly) undeniably well-behaved.

“Ah, well.” Dimitri rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His face was looking better — he was looking healthier on the whole — since Dedue had started cooking some meals for him. Dedue wasn’t satisfied with the response to his cooking when he saw Dimitri’s entire lack of enthusiasm for it outside of his words; still, Dimitri’s color was better, and he was finishing meals now, so the rest would be a matter of understanding and patience. But he couldn’t say Dimitri looked quite right — his hair often seemed completely unattended to, the long blond strands falling over each other and crossing over his face if Dimitri didn’t shake them out of the way, and his eyes were often, between their sleepless shadows and their long stares, worrying in a way Dedue knew he himself sometimes mirrored. Dedue didn’t want to wonder if it would ever be easier — to see, to be, both. He wanted to know. “Manners are the specific actions and words, while I suppose etiquette is more a matter of the theory, that is, the rules and reasons guiding manners?” Dimitri attempted, and then shook his head, causing his hair to fly all over.

Dedue made a noncommittal noise as he ran his hands over the book. The rules and reasons for how people in Faerghus — people in Fhirdiad — people in this castle — were supposed to handle others. Perhaps, then, too, the sort of things that might be expected of them? Of him.

“Would it be alright if I borrowed this someday?” He eventually asked, causing Dimitri to shrug.

“It’s not often used, though I imagine that with... so many new staff members, people might be using it in the near future in order to bring new servants to order and to be accustomed to the castle.” The way Dimitri had paused wasn’t something to overlook — but nor was it something Dedue knew how to press. Still, did the book cover even something like that? “But that’s not to say you couldn’t borrow it for your own study, of course. I think if no one comes looking for it, it shouldn’t be a problem to hold onto it for a while. And you can always borrow it multiple times.”

“Hmmm...Perhaps I will come back for it.” As he turned to return it to its place, Dimitri followed after.

“I do, however, hope you know your conduct to this point has been fine. I’ve no complaints.”

Dedue wondered to what extent Dimitri meant it, and to what extent Dimitri only said such things because he was, Dedue had realized, very much dedicated to being nice. It was true Dedue had always striven to be polite, but that didn’t remotely mean he was faultless.

“Good,” he told Dimitri. It wasn’t untrue — he’d rather keep it that way than much else, even if Dedue was simply being treated nicely. “I still feel I need to understand better.”

***

There had been a time, the day before last, when he had certainly done something wrong. It was possible it had even slipped Dimitri’s mind entirely; it had been a bad day, after a stormy night where Dimitri must not have been able to sleep, not when Dedue certainly hadn’t. That was what had started it to begin with. Dedue hadn’t been comfortable watching Dimitri pace about his rooms for much longer that day. No one should pace that quickly when they were so exhausted that he barely kept his eyes open, but his steps had been relentless. It was too much.

“Is there something you would like to do, Dimitri?” He’d asked, hoping to draw Dimitri back out, pull him away from the corners of himself.

“What? Oh, Dedue, I’m not...” Dimitri had blinked intently, and picked up his voice to put it back on solid footing. His face grew taut, mask-like. “I’m fine. I can’t think of anything. I mean, nothing comes to mind in particular. I’m perhaps just a little tired.”

“Would you perhaps walk with me, then?” Perhaps it had been a lot to ask. Dimitri spent a long moment considering it, enough that Dedue found himself mimicking what Dimitri tended to say at times like these, “It is fine if you’d rather not.”

“It’s no trouble at all, I’d be happy to accompany you.” Dimitri side-eyed him at the common refrain, but that at least pulled something a little more natural, maybe even amused, out of his face. “Where did you intend us to go, then, Dedue?”

“I have not seen much of the gardens. If we could, I would like that.” He’d taken a long pause to consider his options — he had not planned this far ahead. Dimitri gave a little nod, took a long series of slow, methodical breaths.

‘’Yes, let’s go; it’d likely be nice this time of year, wouldn’t it? The weather seems to be quite nice, as well.” With an answer that sounded right without sounding right when Dimitri said it, they headed out. Dedue made a point of keeping his stride relatively short as to not leave Dimitri behind — a bit more of a conscious effort than normal. There was no hurry.

Dimitri had been correct. The air was sweet and sun-warmed, smelling of wet earth — the night’s storm lingered as a scent and a buoyant freshness all around them as they stepped out of the main body of the castle, to a landing above lower gardens. Dedue sometimes had the sense of moving through a hollow shell, a castle of ghosts; so much in it was old, and places that looked as if they ought to have been busy, even recently busy, were starting to collect dust — but it didn’t seem that way on that day, when a great many of its residents went to enjoy this brief sunlight amid the rows of blooming lupines, set in concentric beds amid a kaleidoscope of dreamy, billowing poppies. The lines of sight were blocked by juniper bushes, spaced neatly across the beds. At the center of this garden, which branched off towards other ones or buildings along its sides, was an array of large stones, touched with deep green moss and shockingly-colored lichen; the mountains were here, in their way, with blue bellflowers cascading from their gaps and slopes. Even though there had been people taking their own strolls or an afternoon snack on a bench, the precious warmth had seemed more important to them than Dimitri and Dedue.

He’d agreed with them on that. The sunlight had sunk into his bones; its weight draped around him like a blanket. Something squeezed his heart as he drifted down the stairs, approaching the rivers of blooms. He was alive. This had been true for over a month; he still couldn’t explain why in that moment it had struck him so strongly, so bright and so stinging, as he watched the poppies bob their colorful heads, petals satinesque, in the soaking light. Dedue sifted a sigh through his teeth as his heart squeezed tighter.

Dimitri stumbled ahead of him without warning, not so much heading down the stairs as almost falling over himself — the stairs ran out before he could, and so he landed with his feet on the ground.

“Dimitri?” Dedue asked as he caught up to him. Dimitri’s shoulders jerked up around his ears. Dedue waited for Dimitri to relax even just a little before he continued. “Do we need to go back?”

“No. I was only startled by something,” Dimitri answered with that same strained face as before. “I simply heard something unsettling, or maybe odd is a better word, I suppose. I’m sorry for being jumpy today. After all, everything’s alright... isn’t it?”

“It is.” Dedue had realized even in that moment that the plan may not have been entirely sound, but the response at least let Dimitri’s tension ease as he looked out across the garden.

“...It really is lovely today,” Dimitri said once he’d recollected himself. Dedue nodded.. “I think we may have a kitchen garden somewhere, actually. That might be of some interest to you.”

“It is.” That was all they said as they strolled the outer rim of the garden, towards an archway leading elsewhere. While the green between the gate and the main body of the castle was large, while there were padlocks by the stable, and he’d even heard of a small pasture within the walls, it sometimes felt like he was living in a tightly-wound maze that Dimitri navigated on his behalf, keeping him from smacking into one of the walls that towered over them and cut out pieces of the high, vaulted sky. On that day, his navigation felt almost rudderless.

The path they took hadn’t been properly swept yet — petals torn off of poppies and twigs littered the cobbled walkways. And amid that storm detritus came one thing more than the rest — a young juniper, likely only freshly planted to replace some gap in the line, fallen into the way. Its roots rose sideways into the air, some of the dirt still clinging to them. Dedue crouched down beside it in the name of inspection. A branch still bearing the first traces of pale blue berries had snapped on impact; that much was apparent when he tried to move it. Other than that, though, it seemed unharmed.

“Is it going to die?” Dimitri had asked from somewhere behind him. His voice had a high crack in the middle that carried it further than anyone might have wanted it to, not when it sounded so far-away and truly mournful for the thing. He looked embarrassed, clearing his throat uneasily when Dedue glanced back up to check.

“It is not too late,” he’d answered reassuringly. It was a hardy plant, even if it was young, and Dedue ran his fingers through the scaly needles, still green, still pliant to the touch. “It just needs to be moved back into the ground.”

“...I see.” Dimitri was very quiet, as if that would shove the noise he’d made back in him. While Dedue thought he might be relieved, judging from the softness of Dimitri’s tone, there was also the chance that if Dedue checked those blue eyes, they’d have slipped into the glass jewels that had begun this walk. He wanted to believe he’d heard relief that this plant still had a fighting chance, no matter how rough its first storm had been. It had been a storm that had broken it away from everything it had ever clung to. With a small huff from his nose, Dedue’s lips curved wryly. Just exactly what was he thinking? Whoever had failed to check up on it, leaving it sadly on its side like that, didn’t deserve to work on such a garden as this.

“I can set it back as it should be, rather than waiting. Though I do not have the shears for the hurt branch.” A shame, that. He would have to check on it later. He ran his hands over it, seeking out its main trunk at the core of the whippy young branches, checking for other damage. He lifted it upright, angling himself to face the bed as he held the plant. It tottered unsteadily in the hole it had deserted and tilted back over when he went to remove his hands. It would barely be a trouble to hold it steady while he moved the dirt back over and around it; however, it would take longer. “I am sorry for stopping us.”

When he didn’t get a response, Dedue had looked up and saw that, even if there had been relief before then, it had retreated as Dimitri’s eyes shifted, looking for all the world like a pair of rolling marbles; people had noticed them now, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. Dedue didn’t know what it was — only that it bruised his heart black and blue to watch those frantic jerks of dark-ringed eyes.

“Dimitri,” he’d said, and now, in the present, he’d analyzed every word of that sentence for error; he’d memorized it. “Would you do something for me, please? It is very small, but I would appreciate an extra hand to help me hold this steady.”

He hadn’t immediately noticed the way the background hum of people going about their business had stopped. What he’d noticed instead was that Dimitri had snapped back to Dedue, had nodded and crouched down by Dedue’s side, a rare moment when their faces were roughly level, and Dedue could see the earnest focus the prince put into attending.

“I think I can manage that. I honestly shouldn’t be trusted with plants,” Dimitri had made a self-deprecating noise best described as a laugh impersonator.”How should I hold it?”

It was when he was preparing to answer that question that Dedue had looked up. Had noticed the silence that sucked everything else out of the air. The man and woman half-armored who’d been admiring the bellflowers were shooting strange looks at them. The woman eating sweet buns on a stone bench had stopped mid-mouthful. She’d looked sad, but when Dedue’s eyes met hers, her nose wrinkled in disgust. She swallowed in a heavy gulp without once breaking eye contact.

Even thinking of it now made Dedue’s heart spin in a whirlpool. He’d kept looking from eye to eye, heartbeat slamming into audability as he met those perplexing expressions. Some eyes were on Dimitri with a hard mourning. Some were on him, more disdainful. Not a one lacked tension, fixed on this simple scene. He’d kept wondering, was still wondering — What had made it so wrong? Was there a better way to phrase it? Was the question itself wrong? His heart went on, but his lungs, his shoulder, his arm, his hand had frozen down to the fingers. It must have been at least a little wrong, he knew it was a burden, he’d understood, but Dimitri had answered so calmly and what is about to happen? The air bristled with knives and needles unseen. He couldn’t breathe.

Then someone scoffed, and the tension broke; the pair at the bellflowers turned back to the bellflowers, the distant figures at the edge of the courtyard resumed their stroll, the woman turned her head to take another bite. And Dimitri had asked how he should hold the plant again, as if there was nothing wrong with it.

“...Have I done something wrong?” Dedue had asked while he held the plant as an example, reaching around its base to hold the trunk. His voice hadn’t come out right; it sounded so stunned that Dimitri’s face lost its strange distance, became real and present and worried for him.

“I’m not sure what you mean. You haven’t really done anything.”

Dedue only stared worriedly in response, and did not let go right away when Dimitri’s hand wrapped exceedingly gingerly around plant as directed, his hand all but open around the trunk so he barely touched it.

Now that the anxiety was dying — for whatever had happened, it didn’t seem like something truly terrible would come of it — his face went red as he tentatively let go and began to replace the dirt over the now steady plant. Embarrassing. But it may have been more than that.

He looked up — not at Dimitri, but at the people who were beginning to filter out of the garden with studious disregard. None of them were doing anything. No step advanced towards them. The woman with the sweet buns didn’t come over and scold him; the pair by the bellflowers were now heading towards the stairs as if nothing worth those glances was occuring. Had it only been that they’d noticed Dedue and disapproved? No.

“Are you well?” Dimitri leaned forward until their faces were only a few inches apart. He should still have been asking that question of himself.

“Everyone was staring when I asked you to help me,” Dedue managed.

“Really?” Dimitri looked more baffled than anything else as he glanced up and around at the mostly-vacant garden, morphing to faint irritation as he caught only the backs of these very innocent people. His next words came out flinty. “Oh, I see. Some people are so stubborn and hidebound, it’s completely unreasonable.” He shook his head, trying to wipe the frown from his lips.. “...Let them think what they want. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

An answer which told him many things. There was something wrong. If it was somehow beneath the honor of a prince, why was no one coming to say something? To take it from his hands and scold one or both of them? Why not do something for him? Dedue’s hands on the soil told him to hold back, to go slowly, to be gentle with the juniper. He wasn’t listening to himself. He scooped up the dirt roughly and pressed it down over the top of the roots, where clods tumbled down through the criss-crossing layers. The plant’s trunk shook in Dimitri’s hand as spare flecks of dirt spattered on it.

“I...think that if it weren’t you, no one would have minded, even if it means a prince gets his hands dirty at your request. I certainly don’t mind, and it’s unreasonable that they might.” Dimitri’s face fell back onto Dedue — the sympathy in his eyes felt like an act of will, so intent and honed that it pushed it too hard. But Dimitri’s voice was flatter than that, and his feelings were normally carried there more perfectly than in his face. So it was a milder, less distressed absolution which melted over him like the sunlight, loosening up muscles he hadn’t entirely known he’d tensed. Dedue gently tapped the top layer of dirt down over the roots in response, with the slowness and patience he’d needed before. “I mean that, I truly, truly mean that, understand? I’m not in the slightest bit bothered, and I’m truly glad to help, and as it’s me being asked, that’s what matters.”

“Thank you, then,” he’d said, still uncertain. “We will have to keep an eye on it, but I believe it will be fine.”

“Really? How nice. I know it’d be arrogant of me to act like I was of much help, but it’s nice,” Dimitri had sounded wistful as they’d both stood up to go. “My hands aren’t useless, if only for a little bit.”

Dedue couldn’t ask for more than that, he simply could not get it, not without shattering the feeling that, in having done all of that, even his errors, he may have been a little useful to Dimitri’s heart. The gardens were waiting before them, and the uncertainty and fear could be, for both of them, briefly set aside.

#fire emblem #Fire Emblem: Three Houses #Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers #Dimidue #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #dedue molinaro #Fanfic #My Writing #Learning to Read #This one is cross-posted super late!

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