#and Samson not being there either means we’re seeing her but not with one of her established love interests

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #240

[ificanthaveu]

Broadway Baby || Shawn Mendes

Description: You have known Shawn Mendes for nine years. And he has been a pain in your ass the entire time. NYC isn’t big enough for the two of you, and your hometown certainly isn’t either. (aka broadway!Shawn)

A/N: I thought of this au out of nowhere and I was like wait a minute....that could be really good. SO here we are! And I think it is pretty good! And yes the Jordan I mention a few times is Jordan Fischer. I am a whore for that man. ALSO just a disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about the technicality or broadway or new york or anything so plz just pretend thank you

Word Count: 7.6k

Maybe going to your high school’s five-year reunion at some dive bar two hours away from where you currently lived and down the street from your old high school could have been the worst place to be on a Saturday night in May. 

You whisked the wine in your glass around as you watched it arch up the glass, threatening to spill out with each turn. The light above you flickered every few moments, and you couldn’t tell if the reason for your forming headache was the wine or the light or the fact that you were at your reunion. Or maybe all three. 

You leaned against a table with two people from your homeroom, both of them going on and on about their current fifth year of college they were finishing up. One was in a sorority and the other was the president of his frat. You could’ve seen that coming from your freshman year of high school. 

You occasionally chimed in every few moments just to look interested because you really didn’t have anyone else to talk to. You’d gotten here just a little too early since you had to take the drive and overestimated how long it actually took. Everyone who was eager for the reunion was here. Which meant everyone you did not want to see. 

Your friends planned on coming later, and in reality, you should have just stopped at their house before coming but last minute decided against it. You didn’t really see your high school friends as often as you once thought you would. But life got in the way. While everyone else tended to stay in the small town, you were one of the few who made it out to New York City just two hours away. You had a great job, you bought a house and had a dog. It couldn’t get much better for you. 

So, why you thought you would want to relive your high school days for a night? You still don’t know what you were thinking. 

“[Y/N]?” Eli said from next to you as you blinked a few times before looking at him. 

“How’s the big city?” He said with his smile that actually was too white. 

“Good! Really good!” You said with a smile before you took a sip, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions. 

“Do you ever run into Shawn?” Kelly asked from the other side of you. 

The name itself sent shivers down your spine. Not good ones. 

“Nope,” you said with a pop in your “p” as you downed your glass. 

“You guys were so close in high school,” Eli said. 

You held back a laugh as you glanced back over at him, “No, we weren’t.”

“Well you were the leads in all the musicals together,” Eli replied. 

“That means we were forced to act like we liked each other onstage. We were good actors. That’s why we were the leads,” you tried to say as casually as possible without making it obvious that your blood was boiling. 

“Could have fooled me,” Kelly taunted as she sipped at her drink.

You stifled an eye roll as you thought about what the best time would be to sneak away and get more wine. 

“Speak of the devil,” Eli said as you followed his eyes across the room. 

Your eyes briefly met with Shawn’s as he sauntered into the bar with more confidence than he should be allowed to have. 

You heard Kelly sigh from next to you as she rested her head on her hand. 

You could throw up. 

By the time you looked up again, he was walking right towards you. 

So, now was the right time to get another glass. 

You turned around and waved the bartender down for some wine and then thought maybe two glasses was a better idea but didn’t want to look as trashy as you felt right now being in the same room as Shawn again. 

By the time you turned around with your wine, Shawn was deep in conversation with Eli as Kelly lovingly listened in. 

You took a quick scan of the room, praying there could be someone else you could talk to. Most of the people you really didn’t care for or barely remembered. You spotted a few football players you had known since Kindergarten and hadn’t seen in a while. 

You were about to cross the room to them when you heard Eli say, “[Y/N]’s right here.”

Shawn looked up and smirked as his eyes met yours. There goes your escape. 

You smiled sweetly as you made your way back in between Eli and Kelly and a comfortable distance from Shawn. 

“Hi, Shawn.”

“[Y/N], good to see you,” he said, the damn smirk not leaving his face. 

“You too,” you mumbled from the rim of your glass. 

“Heard you’re over at Samson Management now? You know Jordan?”

You nodded your head and leaned on the table again, “Yeah, I work with Jordan pretty often. He’s fantastic.”

Shawn looked over to Kelly, turning on his charm as he said, “Jordan’s the lead right now in the musical I’m in.”

It took every ounce of you to not roll your eyes and say something snarky. 

“You mean the musical you’re an understudy for?”

It didn’t work.

Shawn cocked an eyebrow at you and his smile faltered as you foiled his face he was putting up for everyone. 

“Yes, [Y/N], that would be the one,” he said slowly. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled.

“Anyway, I’m in Dear Evan Hansen, and Jordan plays Evan right now. We’re pretty good friends, and he’s managed by the company [Y/N] interns for,” he said simply. 

“I’m not an intern,” you said calmly. 

“You were.”

“When I was in college, now I’m a junior manager,” you said, your grip on your glass getting dangerously harder. 

“Hm, whoops,” he said before taking a drink of his beer. 

You could cut the tension with a knife as Eli and Kelly shared looks. 

“Who are you managed by again, Shawn?” You asked. 

If looks could kill, you’d be dead. 

“I’m in between managers.”

“Isn’t that what people say when they were fired from a job? That they’re in-between jobs?” You said with a quiet laugh. 

You could practically see the steam threatening to spill from Shawn’s ears. 

“Things weren’t working out,” he said carefully. 

“I’m going to go say hi to Andy,” Kelly said quietly as she backed away. 

“Me too,” Eli said as he did the same. 

You were in a staredown with Shawn as they both almost sprinted away. 

“Want anything from the bar, [Y/N]? Or still nursing your third glass?” He taunted as he walked past you to the bar behind you. 

“Not my third.”

“Sorry, second,” he said with a smile as he turned around. 

You shook your head and bit your lip harshly. 

“Just upset I’m spoiling your whole facade?” You said, leaning against the bar next to him. “A simple google search could have spoiled it anyway.”

“Sorry we’re not all perfect,” he said, not looking at you. 

“Yeah, real bummer,” you said before pushing yourself off the bar and making your way across the room to the people you meant to see earlier. 

Andy scooped you up into a big hug as you finally approached him, rocking you back and forth. 

“Heard you were being snarky across the room?” He whispered in your ear before pulling away and giving you the same look he’d been giving to you since Kindergarten. 

“Some things never change,” you said as you sat down next to him. 

“No one really likes him anyway, just think they do because they think he might be famous one day,” he said. 

“He won’t be,” you said. “We run in relatively the same circle with my office managing a lot of the people he performs with. He won’t go anywhere with that attitude.”

“Nothing’s changed,” he mumbled. 

“Not at all.”

You watched Shawn sweet-talk one of the old cheerleaders from across the room, probably raving about his latest performance where he was a background character for one whole scene but making it sound so much better. 

“I’m still shocked nothing ever happened between the two of you,” Andy suggested. 

You shot your head to the side to look at him. 

“I can’t be with him for more than a minute without a fight starting,” you reminded him. 

“That tension, I’m telling you,” he said quietly. 

“You are unbelievable,” you said through a laugh. 

Before he could respond, Shawn was walking to the group you were currently in. 

“Don’t be mean,” Andy warned. 

“You know I can’t promise that,” you whispered back. 

“Our own broadway baby!” One of the girls yelled as Shawn hugged one of the guys. 

You scoffed as Andy shot you a warning look before waving at Shawn. 

Shawn returned the wave and walked closer. 

(ITALICS) Here we go again. 

“Good to see you, man,” Shawn said as he shook his hand. 

“You, too,” Andy said as sweet as ever. 

“You still live around here?” Shawn asked. 

“No, I actually live in Chicago now,” Andy said. 

“That’s great,” Shawn said, being nicer than usual. 

“Yeah, how’s the big city?” Andy returned the question. 

“Really great,” Shawn said before taking a drink. “I keep pretty busy.”

“So I hear,” Andy said with a nod. 

You took another drink as you watched the interaction between the two of them. Andy knew how much you didn��t like Shawn, but the two still always got along pretty well. While you were always the first person he greeted after the musical, Shawn was the second. You tried not to let it make your blood boil. But that’s just how Andy was. He loved everyone and everyone loved him. 

“Hey, [Y/N], heard a bunch of people from Samson’s are coming to the show next week?” Shawn questioned.

“Yes, we are,” you said casually. 

“We? As in you’re going?” Shawn pried. 

“Well, I do work with Jordan fairly often, so yes, I will be going,” you said softly. 

“Great,” he said through a toothy smile. 

“Fantastic,” you said as you mirrored his look. 

Before the conversation could turn bad, Shawn got distracted and walked away. 

Andy let out a breath before taking a drink, “I have a feeling you don’t actually feel fantastic about it.”

“As long as I don’t see him, we’ll be just fine,” you said, leaning your elbow on the table.

“I feel like that’s jinxing yourself,” Andy said slowly. 

“Well, I’ve said it over fifty times since we decided we were going, so this time would be no different. If it was jinxed, it was jinxed over a month ago,” you said, finishing your glass. 

“I wish you luck,” he said. 

“Thanks,” you said as you squeezed his arm before standing up to go to your friends who just walked in. 

You could see Sophie eyeing Shawn from a mile away. 

“Soph?” You questioned as she snapped out of it and looked at you. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m not saying that out loud,” she replied. 

“Good idea,” you said back. 

“You have to admit, he looks good,” she said simply. 

“You know I would never admit that even if I did believe it.”

The few of you made your way around a table with a few other people you did the musicals with and talked about the great times you had as you had another glass of wine and started to feel it hit, along with everyone else. 

You were laughing at someone’s story about a performance gone wrong before you realized Shawn was there. You couldn’t even tell when he got there but it wasn’t bothering you nearly as much as you thought it would. 

When he wasn’t trying to impress everyone around him, he wasn’t bad at all to be around, but when his ego took over and all he wanted to do was make people think he was something he wasn’t, you wanted to kill him. 

“Remember when [Y/N] bit Shawn’s lip?” Sophie reminded everyone. 

Shawn threw his head back in laughter as you shook your head and looked down. 

“I still have a scar!” Shawn yelled from across the table as he pointed at you. 

“I’m sorry!” You yelled back through a laugh. “If you would’ve done the moves we practiced, it wouldn’t have happened!”

“You bit through his lip!” someone said. 

“Not on purpose!” You said through a laugh. 

Shawn shook his head as the group calmed down, “I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, believe it. The last thing I wanted to do was have to drive you to the emergency room on a Friday night,” you said. 

“And you stayed with me the whole time,” he said as he rested his hand on his chest. “I’m touched.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reminded him. 

“I would never,” he said with a smirk. 

“Someone do karaoke!” Someone else yelled as they pointed at two people getting off the stage. 

Your eyes met Shawn’s from across the table as you both nodded and walked towards the stage, not even having to say the song which you found early on was both your default karaoke song. It was always a duet between the two of you at your cast parties. 

Bruises by Train started playing as people turned and cheered to see the duo up on stage. 

Shawn started singing the first verse as you bopped your head to the familiar tune. 

You cut in with your part as you looked at him, and he looked back at you. 

You felt like you were back on stage with him, playing the part and acting like you could kiss him when this was all said and done. He joined in with you for the chorus as the two of you stood fairly close, looking at each other as you belted the chorus. 

You stood side by side for the next part, your shoulders brushing as you pointed at people as you sang “have you seen him?”

You casually changed “Johnny B” to “Andy T” as Andy hollered from the back of the bar and Shawn laughed through his half of the line. 

You went back into the chorus as you looked at him again, spreading your arms and feeling like you were on the big stage all over again. You didn’t realize how much you missed it. 

You sang the lines of the bridge softly as Shawn did the same, his eyes not leaving yours. You looked at Shawn in ways you hadn’t since the final night senior year, reminding everyone watching why the two of you were always the stars.

Before you could register it, the song was done and you were standing inches from Shawn as everyone cheered. 

“Guess you still got it,” Shawn said with a small smile. 

“Guess you do, too,” you said back, not even wanting to be snarky anymore. 

You both walked back to your table, this time Shawn standing next to you as you laughed with your friends. 

You glanced at the time just to see it was 1:00 am as people were leaving. 

“Shit,” you mumbled as you went to call an Uber since you clearly couldn’t drive. 

You looked around just to see that Sophie and your other friends had left. Andy was gone, too, and you were running out of options. 

You planned on not really drinking and just driving back to the city tonight, but that was no longer an option. 

“You good?” You heard from behind you. 

You turned to see Shawn with his hands tucked in his pockets. 

“I was going to drive back tonight,” you mumbled. 

“That’s not happening anymore.”

“Yeah, I know,” you scoffed. “I’ll just call my parents.”

“Come on, I got a hotel. You can stay with me,” Shawn said as he started walking away. 

“Aren’t you drunk?” You said as you watched him. 

He turned around and shook his head, “I had one beer nearly six hours ago.”

“Oh, ok,” you said as you followed him to his car.

You drove in silence to a hotel a few blocks away, feeling your buzz quickly wear off. 

You followed him in and up to his room. He let you in in front of him as you made your way to the bed in the corner and plopped down on it. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said to the ceiling. 

“I know,” he sighed as he sat on the edge of your bed. “We can pick up your car in the morning.”

“Thanks,” you said as you turned on your side to look at him.

“I’m sorry about before,” you said softly. “I got carried away with the digs.”

He nodded his head and leaned back so his head was next to yours, “I deserved it.”

You turned to look at him better, noticing his jawline as he spoke. 

“I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing having to come to your reunion as an understudy,” he said softly. 

“It’s still Broadway,” you reminded him. “You’re twenty-two. You have plenty of time to ace the lead.”

“Thanks,” he said as he also turned to look at you. 

Your faces were dangerously close as you watched his eyes flick towards your lips and you inched closer. 

Before you could rethink it, Shawn was on top of you and his tongue was in your mouth. 

Every insult you had hurled before were forgotten as he deepened the kiss and moved you up the bed, his hand caressing your back underneath your shirt and getting dangerously close to your bra. 

This was not something you ever did in the musicals.

You woke up the next morning, slightly startled as you looked around at your surroundings. 

And then seeing the sleeping figure next to you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled as you remembered doing things you never imagined doing the night before. 

You noticed you were wearing his shirt and tried not to groan as you slowly got out of the bed to find your clothes. You threw them back on and called an Uber as you slipped on your heels and tiptoed to the door, grabbing your purse and sneaking out. 

You sat in the back of the Uber and cursed everything you could as you made your way to the bar again. 

You hopped out of the car and into your own as you rested your head on your steering wheel and banged it against it a few times for good measure. 

Your headache began to sink in as you prayed you wouldn’t have to throw up on your two-hour drive back home. 

You finally started your car and put the nearest McDonalds into your maps before pulling out. 

You could’ve screamed when Bruises played through your speakers. 

—

Your pounding headache didn’t go away the next few days, and it certainly wasn’t just from your hangover. 

Monday was a whole new obstacle as half your coworkers asked about your reunion and the other half wanted to talk about the show on Friday. 

Your head was pounding, and your coffee wasn’t cutting it anymore. You rested your head in your hands for a moment to breathe before you went to grab lunch.

Your phone rang before you even had that moment. 

“Yes?” You said simply.

“You have a visitor. He’ll be waiting in the commons,” the receptionist said before hanging up. 

Your heart leaped into your throat before you tried to swallow it down. You took a shaky breath before grabbing your bag and walking downstairs, a little too terrified to see who was waiting for you downstairs. 

Seeing Andy waiting there was the best thing to happen to you in the past week. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as you walked up to him and gave him a quick hug. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked with a smile. 

“My flight leaves out of JFK in a few hours, so I thought we could grab lunch first,” he said as you began to walk out of the building. 

“Perfect. The place next door is great,” you said as you felt the first joy you’d felt since Saturday night. 

“I also have to ask you something,” he said slowly. 

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you pushed the door open to the cafe, and he followed behind you.

“Where did you go Saturday night? After the reunion?”

Your heart went right back into your throat as you didn’t look at him and instead focused on the menu on the wall. 

“Back here. I got back super late,” you said as you begged your voice not to falter. 

“Really? Because I saw your car there Sunday morning,” he said. 

You knew you couldn’t prolong it, so you finally looked at him as he looked at you with a blank stare and raised eyebrows. 

“I went to Sophie’s,” you tried. 

“Sophie left before I did,” he said quietly. “And she left with Eli.”

You didn’t respond and instead stepped up to order your usual. You could hear Andy sigh as you recited your order. 

You stepped to the side and let him order before grabbing a table in a secluded corner.

He sat his number down on the table before sitting across from you and leaning forward on the table, giving you another look. 

“We’ll do this again. Where did you go Saturday night?” He asked. 

You sighed as your shoulders slumped. 

“I stayed with Shawn,” you whispered. “He offered, and I didn’t have many other options.”

“I knew it,” he said in his typical, “I told you so” voice he’d been using on you for years. 

“Don’t even say anything. I’m not proud of it,” you mumbled as they set your food in front of you. 

“[Y/N], come on. You know I’d never say anything mean about it,” he reminded you. 

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you said as you started to pick at your food. “No one knows.”

“So I’m guessing that means you did more than just sleep wherever he was staying?” He pried. 

“If I don’t say it out loud, it never happened,” you said before taking a sip. 

“Oh my God,” he mumbled. 

“You said you wouldn’t say anything,” you groaned. 

“I won’t. I won’t,” he said before he sighed. “I just want to say that I told you so, and I saw this coming from a mile away.”

“Ok, I get it,” you said through a laugh. 

“I mean I literally said it probably hours before you did it,” he reminded you again. 

“Yes, ok, anyway, when does your flight leave?” You said, trying to derail the conversation. 

“4:00 pm, but anyway, who came on to who?” He continued. 

“I’m not answering any questions,” you said, taking bites of your food as he thought of more questions to ask. 

“Fine,” he sighed, finally eating. 

“But he definitely came on to me.”

“I knew it.”

— 

You kept busy the next week on your latest project, and you managed to forget about the past weekend...until Friday came up faster than expected. 

You hated to admit it, but you bought a new outfit for the show, one that you know would make Shawn drool in the off chance you did see him.

During the day you were in and out of meetings, barely having time to even sit down in your office. When you finally had a chance, one of the interns leaned in. 

“Ross was looking for you before, but he just told me to tell you that Jordan won’t be on tonight,” she said. 

“What?” you said a little louder than planned. 

“Yeah, I think he said he has strep throat,” she explained before walking away. 

You took a deep breath and ran your hands through your hair. 

This could’ve been your worst nightmare.

You took your time getting ready after work as the chances you would see Shawn increased with each passing moment in the past week. 

You met your coworkers outside the venue an hour before the show and found Ross to grab your ticket. 

“Someone told you right?” Ross said as he handed it to you. 

“Yeah, Jordan’s out,” you said through a sigh. 

“And that Shawn Mendes will be on,” he said as he looked at the altered program. “Know anything about him?”

“Well,” you paused and wondered if you should tell the truth or lie through your teeth. “I actually went to high school with him.”

Ross’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at you. “Tell me everything. I hear he’s looking for new management.”

You bit your tongue as your group walked into the theater and tried to think this through. 

“He’s insanely talented. We starred in most of the musicals together, and he manages to have chemistry with anyone he’s onstage with, which I hope you’ll see tonight. He’s got a good heart, but I think it’s hard for him to show it sometimes. This is all he’s ever wanted to do, and he shows it in everything he does,” you explained as you found your seats. 

“He sounds like a good guy,” Ross offered. 

“Yeah,” you paused. “He is.”

“What musicals did the two of you do together?” He continued. 

“Um, wow, we did The Last Five Years, High School Musical, Footloose and Hairspray,” you remembered. 

“So why did he go and do this while you went into management?” 

“He had the confidence I could never get,” you said as your voice shook just the slightest.

“You’re confident.”

“I wasn’t in high school,” you explained. “Shawn had enough for the two of us. Sure, I would’ve loved to do this,” you gestured to the stage. “But Shawn knew he was going to do this. There was a big difference.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he said with a nod. “And you settled for management.”

“I wouldn’t say settled. This is my dream job,” you said through a small laugh. “I wanted college and stability. I needed it. Shawn was always really good at being spontaneous which was definitely something I could’ve learned from.”

“You speak pretty highly of him,” Ross pointed out. 

You paused for a moment and ran through the conversation you just had in your head. You didn’t realize how many nice things you had to say about him. 

“Yeah,” you said before pausing. “He’s a really good guy. We didn’t always get off on the right foot, but when it came down to it, we made a good duo.”

“Well, if this show goes well, I just might have to have a conversation with him afterward. Care to join me? Introduce me to him?” Ross questioned as he looked at you. 

You swallowed hard before nodding your head, “Of course.”

The lights dimmed before Ross could say anything more than “Great.”

You took a deep breath and released it slowly as Shawn walked on to the stage. You were nervous for him, you being the only one who knew the weight of this performance, what Samson Management could do for him. 

You’d never even seen him perform except from the wings of a stage while you did a quick change or quickly rehearsed lines with someone in the stage crew. Before tonight, all you ever got were glimpses of the person he became when he walked on stage. 

And he was amazing at it. 

He had the whole crowd on the edge of their seats as he sang “Waving Through a Window.” You did everything in your power to make sure no one saw you wipe the tear escape your eye. 

You never would’ve been able to tell that this was Shawn’s first time performing this part. He had the whole audience laughing when they needed to be laughing and crying when they needed to be crying. You felt your heart follow his journey as you saw Shawn genuinely thrive. 

It was intermission before you knew it, and you took a moment in the bathroom to fix your makeup that may have ran down your cheek a little. 

By the time you got back to your seat, Ross was jotting down quick notes. 

“So, what do you think?” You asked. 

“He really is something else,” he said with a big smile. “We definitely have to talk after.”

You couldn’t hide your smile as the lights dimmed again and the musical continued. 

By the time the show was done, your mascara needed fixing again and your chest hurt. You ducked into the bathroom again before meeting Ross to introduce him to Shawn. 

You showed your credentials to the stage manager as you walked ahead of Ross to find the door with Shawn’s name on it. You took a deep breath before knocking slightly and hearing a muffled “come in.”

You creaked the door open to watch Shawn turn around to see you. 

“[Y/N],” he said just above a whisper as his face fell. 

Before he could say anything else, you opened up the door more to show Ross with you. Shawn’s immediately put on a different face as he stood up. 

“Shawn, this is Ross Thompson, senior manager at Samson Management. Ross, this is Shawn Mendes, Clinton’s own Broadway baby,” you said with a smile as the two shook hands before Shawn nervously stuffed his in his pockets and glanced over at you. 

“You were amazing,” Ross started. “And we would love to meet with you sometime, over at Samson.”

“Really? That would be amazing,” Shawn said with a smile. 

Ross handed him his card before saying, “Email me Monday morning about what times work best for you within this next week, and we’ll set up a time where the three of us can talk.” He said as he gestured at you, and you nodded your head. 

“Thank you so much. I look forward to talking more,” Shawn said as he shook Ross’s hand again. 

“We’ll see you then,” Ross said as the both of you turned toward the door. 

“[Y/N]?” You heard him say as you both turned around. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

You swallowed hard before nodding over at Ross.

“I’ll meet you guys at Ellen’s,” you said with a soft smile before Ross waved goodbye and walked out. 

You shut the door behind him before you leaned against it and looked at Shawn. 

“I have about a million things to say, and I don’t know which one to start with,” he said a little too quickly. 

“Yeah, I figured.”

“What did you say?” He paused. “That made him want to talk with me?”

“Well, he asked about you and was so excited to hear that we went to high school together, so I told him everything I could,” you said quietly. 

“Which was?” He pried. 

“Um,” you faltered. “I said that we starred in the musicals together…”

“And?” He cut you off. 

“And that you’re amazing at what you do. That you were born to be doing this, and it shows when you walk onstage. That you have a good heart, but sometimes have a hard time showing it. That we didn’t always get off on the right foot, but at the end of it all, we made a really good duo,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his eyes that seemed to be piercing into yours. 

“You mean that?”

You could hear the strain in his voice. 

“Of course I do,” you said through an exhale. “Look at you, Shawn. You just walked out on that stage like you’ve been playing this role your whole life. You had that whole audience convinced you were the actual Evan Hansen when that person doesn’t even exist.”

A moment of silence surrounded the two of you. You stared just past Shawn at the table scattered with his things, focusing on an open foundation bottle instead of him. 

“So you liked it?” He finally said. 

“I loved it,” you said quietly. “I’ve never actually gotten to see perform from an audience before. It was breathtaking.”

“Thanks,” he said almost under his breath. 

It went quiet again, and you uncomfortably switched from one foot to the other as the tension filled the room like so many times before. Except for all different reasons. 

“So why’d you leave?” He finally asked as his hands flew up with frustration. 

Your body slumped as you sighed and sat on the arm of the chair right next to the door. 

“Please don’t do this, Shawn,” you begged as you looked at the floor. 

“No, I’m doing this. Why did you leave? I’m not just some guy you met at a bar, [Y/N]. I thought you had a little more respect for me than that,” he said, the frustration in his voice evident. 

“Because you’re you,” you started. “You’re a pain in my ass and have been for the past nine years. I’ve had to watch you captivate the stage with this natural flair that only you could pull off, and I never could. Seeing you on Saturday was like being on stage as a freshman as Gabriella all over again, and I was staring at Troy, who had the confidence of ten people, showing this whole world what he can do, and I can’t. I couldn’t just let myself live in whatever fake world we made up Saturday night just to regret it Sunday morning.”

“Why are you saying this? It’s been five years since we last sang together, but it felt like yesterday when I looked at you doing that note change you always did when we sang that song. Whenever I perform with you, I forget that you’re you. I forget that you hate my guts half the time and the other half of the time you’re tolerating it because you have to,” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “You can’t make up excuses anymore, [Y/N]. What happened Saturday was not some performance. We’re not in high school. And even if we were, you are still just as amazing as a performer as you think I am, but you’re still stuck in this mindset that you were just put there by default.”

“Do you know how hard it is to perform with you when everyone who encounters you falls in love with you?” You almost yelled as you stood up, and Shawn stepped back. “I had to, and still have to, work twice as hard as you to get half of the recognition you did. We were never equals. I didn’t hate you, Shawn. I could never hate you because of how you made me feel like I was everything when we were on stage together. I have tried every night for the past nine years to forget the way my stomach would flip when you sang to me, and right when I thought I could, I was right back to it because of that fucking reunion.”

“Then why did you leave?” He finally yelled. “I thought I had finally figured you out, finally figured out how I could get you to be mine, and by the time I woke up, you were gone and probably halfway to New York. Why won’t you just accept that there was always something here, but you were too scared to ever admit it because of what other people thought of me?”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have anything to say. 

“I have been chasing after you for nine years, and I’m just starting to think that I just can’t do it anymore,” he said quietly as he sat down on the couch opposite of you with his hand on his forehead. 

You watched the way he rubbed his forehead as he caught his breath, the way his body slumped as he let out everything he’d always wanted to say. 

“When I woke up on Sunday, I couldn’t get out of my head that I was just there because I was convenient for the night. That I wasn’t what you actually wanted,” you said slowly. “I didn’t realize there was something more.”

He sighed and looked up at you.

“But by the time I got back here, I knew I shouldn’t have left. I made that mistake, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with the consequences of it. Whenever I’m with you, I just get caught back in this old mindset that you’re always going to be better than me, and that’s a real blow to the ego, but it’s all in my head,” you said. 

He didn’t say anything as you finished your thoughts. 

“That’s all I have left to say,” you said after a moment.

“Then I think you should go,” you said just above a whisper. 

“Shawn…” you started. 

“I’ve had enough for one night. Please just go.”

So you did.

—

The following week was just as painful as the one before as you awaited the meeting you would eventually have to sit through with just Ross and Shawn. The calendar notification popped up Monday morning, so you knew Shawn called him as soon as he possibly could to set this up. You had a brief meeting with Ross on Thursday morning, and Shawn was planned to join you shortly after. 

You walked with Ross to one of the rooms on the first floor to go over some notes before meeting Shawn. He pulled up his laptop and let out a sigh. 

“I need you to be honest with me about how you feel about Shawn,” Ross said. 

“Ok,” you said carefully. 

“Because I asked around and the things I’ve heard have been exactly 50/50. People either love him or hate him. I can’t afford to have a hated man on our team,” Ross explained. “So I need the real story.”

You took a deep breath and stared at your own computer screen before looking up at him. 

“I have known Shawn since I was 14. The first time I met him was a chemistry read for High School Musical. I had heard about him. I had heard…not the greatest things about him. That he had a big ego and knew he was good and wasn’t afraid to flaunt it. So, I went into that chemistry read with this horrible idea of him in my head. And I held on to it for a lot longer than I’d like to admit. But every day I spent with him on the stage, that chipped away more and more,” you said. 

“What I said on Friday, about him knowing this is what he was meant to do, is completely true. People often take that the wrong way. I took that the wrong way. I wasted years hating him when he was just passionate about what he did. Once you realize that, he is genuinely one of the most amazing performers you will ever work with and just as amazing of a person,” you finished. 

Ross nodded his head as he leaned back in his chair, crossing an ankle over a knee as he bit the end of his pen. 

“I trust you,” he said after a moment. 

Before you could say anything else, Ross’s laptop dinged to notify him that Shawn was here. 

“You want to go get him?” Ross offered. 

You nodded your head and walked out of the room and down the long hallway to see Shawn waiting at the end of it by the receptionist’s desk. 

“Shawn,” you said with a head nod towards the hallway. 

He didn’t say anything and followed you down the hallway. 

Before you went in, Shawn stopped a few feet away from the door. You turned around and looked at him. 

“This is make or break for me,” he said. 

“I know.”

“What do you think it’s going to be?” He asked. 

You sighed and leaned against the wall. 

“Despite what has happened, I have done everything I possibly can at this point. I believe in you, Shawn, and I’ve done everything I can to get Ross to feel that same way,” you explained. 

“You mean that?”

“Every word.”

You didn’t allow him time to respond as you opened the door and let him in in front of you. His nerves seemed to evaporate away as he shook Ross’s hand and took a seat across from the two of you. 

Ross sighed as he sat down before he said, “I’ll cut right to it.”

Shawn simply nodded his head. 

“We would love for you to join our team,” he said. 

You watched Shawn relax, and it took everything in you not to jump up. 

“Thank you so much, sir. You won’t regret it,” Shawn said with a smile that could light up the entire city. 

“I know,” Ross said with a head nod. “You’re lucky you have someone as great as [Y/N] in your life. She did a really good job of talking you up.”

Shawn looked at you as your eyes widened at Ross’s blatant statement. 

“Yeah,” Shawn said, still looking at you. “I am.”

The meeting went relatively quickly as preliminary paperwork was filled out and the basics were gone over. The looks Shawn gave you didn’t go unnoticed as you explained the necessary policies. 

“Well, Shawn, that’s all we have for you today,” Ross said as he stacked up some papers and set them on top of his laptop. “You’ll be working mostly with me and [Y/N], but for the majority of the time it’ll just be [Y/N],” he said as he gestured to you. 

You nodded your head as Shawn looked at you again and nodded along. 

“You have my number, but call this number if it’s during work hours,” you said as you handed him your card. “I check my email constantly, so you’ll also be able to reach me quickly there if I’m in a meeting.”

“Got it,” he said as he placed your card with the other papers stacked in his arms. 

“We look forward to working with you,” Ross said as he gestured forward. “I’ll have [Y/N] walk you out,” 

You and Shawn walked out the door and down the hallway towards the front door as tension surrounded you two again. 

“Can I see you this weekend?” Shawn said quickly as you reached the front door. 

Without saying anything, you pushed him out the front door, and you followed behind him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“No, no, just the receptionist is nosey,” you said with a head shake. “Ross doesn’t care.”

“Oh, ok.”

“Anyway…” you offered. 

“Right, I just think we need to talk,” he said as he impatiently fiddled with his thumbs. 

“What’s there left to say, Shawn?” You asked as you crossed your arms as an unexpected breeze blew by. “We both said what we needed to last weekend. I got you your management team. What else do you want?”

“I don’t just want you because of a management team,” Shawn said with hurt in his voice. “And I did not think you’d be the one I’d work with if they brought me on here.”

“We want to keep you with people you know-“

“That doesn’t matter right now. [Y/N], what I’m trying to say is I want to see you. I want to take you on a damn date because I’ve wanted to since I was 14 and heard you sing ‘Breaking Free,’” he said, sounding out of breath, rarely seeing him so vulnerable.

You felt the smile tug at your lips as you tried to keep a straight face. 

“We do still have a lot to talk about,” you said. 

“A shit ton, but it would be a lot easier to do that over a drink, and when I know you feel the same way I do about you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile before you said, “Of course, I want to get a drink with you. As a date.”

“Thank, God,” he said as his body slumped and his breath left him. 

“I told Ross about how I truly felt about you. That that big ego I thought you had was just passion for what you did, and I realize that now. And I’m sorry I couldn’t do it sooner,” you said before pausing. “You’re a good guy, Shawn,” you said simply as you looked up at him. “I don’t think I say that enough, and certainly not to your face.”

“Then say it again,” he said through a small smile. 

“Never.”

He stepped forward, aiming to kiss you but you held your hand up before he did. 

“I’m not going to kiss you outside my office, and I don’t kiss before the first date,” you said with a smirk.

He returned the look as he raised an eyebrow and leaned in to hug you. 

You held on to him tightly as he gripped onto you the same way. You felt his lips graze over your ear. 

“We’ve done a lot more than kiss before our first date.”

You pushed him off and walked towards the door, begging the blush to disappear from your face before you made it back to your office. 

“See you tomorrow? Ed’s on fifth? Pick you up at 6?”

You turned around and looked at him as he started backing away. 

“The Broadway bar? Really?”

“I have a brand,” he said with a shrug and his signature smirk.

You turned to go into the building before leaning out the door to look at him one last time.

“See you then, broadway baby.”

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[mst3kproject]

The Ship of Monsters

Check me out, I’m being topical!  I had another review almost finished for today, but when I saw the news I knew I had to set that aside and find a movie about life on Venus.  This one is a ridiculous Mexican film starring Lorena Velazquez from Samson vs the Vampire Women (looking only slightly less like Cher) and one of those amazing cardboard robots you only get in the very worst of late 50’s and early 60’s sci-fi.

An atomic war on the planet Venus has killed off all the males, so an expedition is sent out in search of replacements, consisting of a native Venusian named Gamma, her Uranian navigator Beta, and their robot Tor.  After promising the Empress that they will bring back only the most manly of men, they wander the solar system a while collecting creatures with penises before an engine problem forces them to land on Earth.  The first human they meet there is Laureano Gomez, a singing cowboy with a well-earned reputation for telling tall tales.  One might assume one could predict the rest of the movie from there… but then Beta turns on Gamma and reveals that her true mission all along was to conquer a planet to feed the vampires of Uranus!

I gotta say… I did not see that coming.

The Ship of Monsters is supposed to be a comedy.  It’s seldom funny when it’s trying to be, although it mercifully avoids being the kind of desperately unfunny a lot of bad comedies are… possibly this is because it’s in Spanish, and by the time I’ve realized something is stupid there’s another subtitle to distract me. The jokes, such as they are, are pretty standard.  Tor the robot was created by an alien race, who were aware of Earth but never bothered exploring it because they thought the inhabitants weren’t very intelligent.  Laureano is in the habit of telling ridiculous stories to his drinking buddies, so of course when he claims the Earth is being invaded by space monsters they don’t believe him.  That sort of thing.  The movie is much funnier when it’s just showing us absurd situations, but to nobody’s surprise, The Ship of Monsters is at its funniest when it’s trying to be serious.

This hilarity comes in many forms, covering just about all the possible bases for a dirt-cheap 1960 sci-fi film.  We have spaceship sets made of cardboard, covered with buttons that don’t actually press and levers conveniently placed so people can bump into them during fight scenes.  We have Tor, with his tin can body that’s always a little dinged up but never in the same places, giving us clues as to what order the scenes might have been shot in.  He also has wiggly spring antennae and makes a little whirring noise every time he moves. We have space babes in silver bathing suits and glittery high heels.  Vampire-Beta, sporting plastic fangs that look like they came from the bottom of a cereal box, could be the female counterpart to the guy from Dracula vs Frankenstein, and the puppet used to represent her in flight is nearly as bad as the one from The Devil Bat.

The ‘monsters’ of the title are a bulging-brained Martian prince, a scaly cyclops, a spidery creature with venomous fangs, and the mobile skeleton of what appears to be a *damn worwelf (he tells us that his race has Evolved Beyond Flesh... apparently not Beyond Bones, though).  The costumes are all terrible, particularly the warwulf puppet, whose backbone extends into his mouth and who has to be carried around with his feet dangling in any shot that’s not a close-up.  It’s nice, though, that a little imagination went into them, and somebody gave a bit of thought to the idea that a monstrous appearance is relative.  The Martian tells Beta that he admires her ambition and might even marry her if she weren’t so ugly by his planet’s standards.

At the end, naturally, this alien invasion is defeated by Laureano, his twelve-year-old brother, and a cardboard robot, while Gamma just stands around and screams.  With a movie like this I expect nothing less.  The denouement contains my favourite intentional joke in the whole thing, in which Gamma stays on Earth with her True Love, and Tor the robot takes his, the Jukebox, back to Venus with him!  Tom Servo would have given a speech to congratulate the happy couple, and I can just see him breaking down into happy tears before he got five lines in.

(The wirwalf skeleton is not present at the climactic fight, by the way… no explanation is offered, and I strongly suspect that they broke the puppet trying.  I rather enjoy this omission, because it lets me imagine him getting lost or maybe buried by an enterprising dog, and finally finding his way back to the landing site only to learn that they’ve left without him.)

I called Laureano a cowboy but he only has one cow.  Her name is Lolobrijida and she is the very first time I have ever seen a movie spur a hero into action by killing his cow.  She gets a proper Teenagers from Outer Space death, with her skeleton left behind propped up by metal struts like a dinosaur in a museum!

I also called him a singing cowboy, which he is – there are several songs, including one in which he tries to explain to Gamma and Beta what ‘love’ means.  The songs have pleasant but forgettable Mexican pop melodies, and none of the lyrics make a whole lot of sense.  Being translated over-literally from Spanish probably didn’t do them any favours (my own Spanish tops out at yo no tengo dinero), but I still can’t imagine that the What Is Love song clarified anything.

Laureano himself comes across as kind of a fool, but he’s not actually a full-on idiot, which is quite important.  If he were the kind of one-dimensional ‘comedic nitwit’ embodied in characters like Dropo, or the janitor from Reptilicus, he’d be insufferable.  Laureano is no genius, but he’s got personality traits besides being stupid – he cares deeply for his little brother Chuy and for his animals, and he doesn’t treat Gamma and Beta’s appearance as two women for the price of one.  Very quickly he decides that Gamma is the one he loves, and he sticks to that, doing his best to let Beta down gently even when she offers to make him a king.  He’s also smart enough to trick Beta into dancing with him so he can steal the device she uses to control the rocket and Tor, and to listen to Gamma when she tells him about the various monsters’ weaknesses.

Gamma and Beta, on the other hand, don’t have a lot to them besides the basic fact that Gamma is the Nice One and Beta is Evil. Gamma starts out in the story with a strong sense of duty, and it’s a bit disappointing to see her abandon that because of Tru Luv.  I would have liked the ending better if she’d taken Laureano home with her so that the two of them could be the Adam and Eve of the new Venusian race.  Meanwhile, Beta shows no sign of any loyalty except to herself and her own ambition.  Her original mission, to secure Earth as a blood supply for the Uranians, falls by the wayside as she decides she’s going to conquer and rule the planet herself.

So The Ship of Monsters isn’t exactly a feminist manifesto, but neither is it complete misogynistic garbage like Project Moon Base.  The whole premise, after all, rests on a planet of women being able to develop space travel all on their own!  This is a fairly surprising plot point, because in many ‘planet of women’ movies like Fire Maidens of Outer Space or Cat Women of the Moon, the ladies need the virile Earth Men to come to them.

There’s also a little bit of actual science peeking out of the cracks.  The moment for launch of the rocket from Venus is determined by when ‘the elliptical orbits coincide’.  Launch timing is, indeed, a delicate art depending very much on what’s orbiting where. There’s also the moment when, trying to land on Earth, Gamma and Beta worry that the friction, combined with our oxygen-rich atmosphere, will set their ship on fire.  This stuff is pretty impressive coming from a time when the moon landing was still nearly a decade away.  There are even a couple of scenes in zero gravity that honestly aren’t totally terrible.  I mean, I’ve seen better, but I’ve also seen much, much worse.

There’s also one weirdly prescient moment when Laureano, telling one of his silly stories in the pub, describes being surrounded by dinosaurs – only to get a laugh a moment later when he mentions that they had beautiful plumage.  I’m not sure whether this is meant to be a joke in that Laureano is exaggerating an actual encounter with an angry bird into something more fearsome (I think we’re to assume that the whole story is totally made up), or whether it’s just supposed to be funny that Laureano thinks dinosaurs had feathers instead of scales.  Either way, it’s the equivalent of the moon Fornax in Menace from Outer Space being so reminiscent of Io.  There’s no way the writers could have known that, but it’s interesting nonetheless.

The Ship of Monsters is very cheap and very dumb, but it’s good fun for those of us who like crummy old alien invasion movies, and I recommend it to anybody in that demographic.  As for actual life on Venus… I feel like a lot of the people getting excited are too young to remember when Bill Clinton told the world that we had totally found life on Mars.  Humans have been discovering life on other planets for about two hundred years and every single one of those ‘discoveries’ has turned out to be either a mistake or an outright lie.  We have plenty enough to panic about this year without a Venusian invasion.

[angerissue]

Anonymous asked… What is your take on Bruce Banner's love interest? Whether we’re mutuals or not, feel free to ask me about Bruce!

Oh, this is a good question, and something I haven’t discussed in months. Thanks for asking it!

This version of Bruce is hopelessly in love with Betty Ross. He’ll always love her, even if they’re miles apart, and both of them have moved on and dismissed the hopes of seeing each other again. Even if Bruce were to meet someone else, his feelings for her would remain in perpetuity.

I’ve written some headcanons with someone (she's no longer on tumblr, sadly) where Bruce and Betty met in a library during their university years, and the whole dynamic was very much a friends-to-romance one. Their earlier interactions were essentially the "study buddies" kind, and I imagine it was the combination of their shared work and interests, and the comfortability in talking about that stuff, that snowballed into other conversations and ultimately, a romantic relationship. And it continued up until Bruce's accident.

This pairing has always been very special to me because, unlike the others, Betty was the first person to see a far more vulnerable side of Bruce. Bruce has always been an extremely closed-off and reticent person; he hates revealing too much about himself because he feels this information could be abused somehow; that somebody would take issue with what he was telling them, just like how Brian would react vehemently whenever he watched educational children’s television shows, or played with certain toys. Betty was the first person that Bruce felt comfortable enough to open up to, in multiple manners. Not only would he discuss Brian with her (granted, sometimes he didn’t say much, but even dropping a few tiny mentions of Brian was huge for him), but he also felt like he could simply be himself around her. He didn’t need to keep his guard up around Betty like he did around other people. He was still sky, awkward, and nerdy around Betty, but he could voice his opinions more confidently in her presence. And the adaptation I've been writing with; she’s a slightly more modern version of the character — soft and gentle, but she has a temper of her own and a tangible boldness in certain situations, and it can be a subtle juxtaposition to Bruce’s own personality at times. It’s quite lovely.  

There are other aspects of the relationship, here and there, that I also love. In "The Incredible Hulk" (2008), Betty could swear that she saw some aspect of Bruce in the Hulk, and Bruce refused to accept such a possibility at first, because he believed the Hulk was a sentient and autonomous being — a belief that had grown over the years, predominantly because of his immense guilt and an unconscious desire to reduce his sense of culpability. If the Hulk somehow wasn’t him, its destructive actions were no longer entirely his fault. But after the Chitauri invasion, at which point he was able to remember his actions as the Hulk, and self-assess his behaviour in that state, Bruce realized she was correct about everything. If it wasn’t for Betty and the statement she made, he may not have fully accepted the Hulk as a part of himself — as himself, and he would’ve been stuck in denial for years. Lots of his development can be attributed to Betty, even if they aren’t in touch anymore.

Not only this, but Bruce met Betty during a time where he hadn’t experienced all his hardships with Ross. He was nowhere near as world-weary, and while he didn’t trust people much back then, either, it was better than his tendencies nowadays. In that sense, Betty is one of his last few connections to the past, and a time when he was more hopeful and innocent.

But while Bruce can control his condition now, he hasn’t reconnected with Betty. She's been in the dark ever since the Harlem incident, save for glimpses of him on the news here and there.

Bruce does want to see Betty again. He would love to see her. But he’s made some personal discoveries related to his condition that convinced him he’s not a good fit for her, or anyone in general. He doesn’t see himself as completely human anymore, which has become even more of a tangible sentiment ever since his transformations became a typical and even daily occurrence. As a result, there are some philosophical quandaries that prevent him from resuming a romantic relationship with her, or with anyone else. Given his current development trajectory, he would be the Hulk almost constantly in later verses. It’s not an ideal scenario to create a potential relationship from — especially with Betty, because he’s unable to meet some of her needs when he's the Hulk. Additionally, he cannot guarantee Betty’s safety with Ross still around, because he doesn’t know if Ross is still looking for a way to capture him. He suspects there were times in the past when Ross backed off temporarily, like after the Chitauri invasion, because capturing the Hulk at that time would have caused a huge public outcry, but nowadays, he’s unsure where Ross’ intentions lie. He's unwilling to take the risk.

All this being said, Bruce doesn’t expect Betty to remain loyal to him, or vice versa, because he understands the necessity of moving on and not dwelling on the past. It would be melancholic if Bruce discovered that Betty had met someone new, yes (this was certainly the case with Leonard Samson), but ultimately, he would be happy for her, and he’d tell himself that his own feelings don’t matter if it means she’s content and safe. Of course, there is always the possibility that Banner could reach out with letters, or another kind of communication channel. And it's possible that if Ross was gone and the world was more settled, he would meet her in-person, even if he didn't intend to restart a romantic relationship. At that point, there’s nothing stopping them from sharing their work and collaborating professionally, too. This kind of interaction could eventually become the norm. But I don’t really see their relationship shifting to a romantic one again.

So I suppose in the end, I don’t see their relationship as having a cliché happy ending, in the sense that they end up together, are happily married, and are living in their own little cottage somewhere. I see it as a mature progression from young love, to a failed effort to make things work in a terrible situation, and then an acceptance of knowing, while their situation has improved, it’s still not going to work out. And they both have the courage to run with things and make the best of it. Betty would be understanding of Bruce’s situation, as she’s always been, and in concurrence, Bruce would be happy as well, because he knows Betty can have a romantic relationship with someone who completely presents as human. They can still work together too, which is a callback to how their relationship first began in the library. And it continues to build on all the trust and confidence they initially showed each other, and continued to show each other, over the years.

So it’s very bittersweet.

I’m also going to mention the pairing of Bruce and Natasha, because I need to assert that I do enjoy this ship! As a matter of fact, it’s something I’ve enjoyed for years and years. I was one of the wierdos who was shipping them soon after the release of The Avengers, earlier than most to the point where the tag was completely blank. I guess for me, there was something unique about their dynamic in The Avengers that stood out from Bruce’s other interactions. Natasha was ordered to approach the doctor in Kolkata, and at that point, she had seen the Hulk's capabilities in-person during her involvement in the Culver University incident. Her distrust of Bruce and his alter ego was justified, especially given her personal experiences with everything, and while it may (or may not) have lessened over the course of the film, Natasha clearly came to respect Bruce at the very least, and she understood the benefits of not only putting his intellect to good use, but the Hulk itself. During the final battle, Bruce had come on his own volition and was fully prepared to transform, but she still made the active effort to tell him the Hulk was valuable. Given her past experiences with the Hulk, this meant a lot coming from her. And it's clear this wasn't just a "tactical" choice on her part; if she didn't say anything, the outcome wouldn't have been any different. This was a nice way to end the film and create a foundation for their future development between them. If their relationship continued to open up, I could certainly see them developing feelings for each other.

But the next film... Eugh. I was gravely disappointed by the sudden schoolgirl-crush syndrome that Natasha was demonstrating, which was unrealistic in itself (I'll explain my reasoning in a bit), and the total handwaving of everything that led up to it, which ultimately did nothing but break Natasha’s character and make it difficult for most of the audience to accept what was happening. Because... What initially made Natasha go from having a reluctant admiration for him, to downright falling for him? We did not see the process, or the catalysts. They had jumped from Point A to Point Y, and we saw nothing of the points in between. So the whole thing immediately fell apart for me.

A common argument I see in defense of Natasha’s behaviour is, simply put, she’s in love, so it’s natural for her to act a little kooky. However, love doesn’t have the effect of completely negating deeply-ingrained character aspects, especially fundamental traits. And Natasha has many traits that are the complete antithesis of how she was behaving in that movie. It’s the same as seeing Christopher Nolan's Bruce Wayne, a normally close-mouthed and subtle character, gushing, nudging up to, and grinning like a little boy around Rachel Dawes. It doesn’t make sense... So why is it suddenly acceptable for Natasha?

In that sense, I could also presume that Natasha’s behaviour was Joss Whedon’s misogynistic projection of how he, himself, believes a woman in love should behave. There’s a real possibility, given how Natasha was characterized in earlier MCU films, versus how she was acting in this movie, that Whedon threw out her characterization in favour of playing out a fantasy; a stereotype. And unluckily for him, that stereotype (as the word itself implies) does not fit all people or characters. So it was noticeable, and not in a good way.

And honestly... I’m disappointed that this disaster has caused so many people to discount the ship as a whole, even though that film was simply one poor adaptation of it. People also tend to dismiss the pairing because they believe Bruce and Natasha are too different. But they both have trust issues. They both have experiences where they’ve been used for other peoples’ goals. Natasha has seen a very vulnerable and intimate side of Bruce that most people never have (that look he gave her before he transformed on the helicarrier, honestly, was completely unlike the self-composure he obsessively tried to convey in all their prior interactions)... And frankly, I'm sick of hearing about the “age gap” between them, because my aunt and uncle were twelve years apart, and they were happily married for decades. Not to mention, Bruce and Natasha have been through countless hardships, and they probably have a lot more common ground than many people with an “age gap”.

So if things were properly written? That would have been phenomenal, I think. The potential was certainly there in the first movie; it’s just a shame those foundations were ignored and not directly built on.

But that’s enough salt from me!

As for this Bruce in particular... I can see him having a relationship with Natasha in the earlier part of his timeline, before the Sokovia incident occurred. There would've been a lot of opportunities for their relationship to develop, especially because Bruce wasn't just working with the Avengers; he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and was working on the same helicarrier as Natasha for around a year, too. He would've avoided her a lot, but I can easily see Natasha approaching him eventually, or them running into each other and trying to reconcile. Especially once Bruce remembers everything that happened during the helicarrier incident, and how scared Natasha was. He had offered Natasha a brief apology during the Chitauri invasion, but after those memories were dredged up, it would suddenly become insufficient.

But during or after the Sokovia incident, I doubt they would start a relationship with each other. This is simply because Natasha caused Bruce a lot of turmoil around this time, and afterwards. She betrayed his trust during the Sokovia battle by forcing him to transform, which also worsened an issue that Bruce was currently having with his condition. Her support of the Sokovia Accords didn't help either, because Bruce was vehemently against them from the very beginning, having seen Ross’ wish to exploit the Hulk’s abilities, and he feared this would continue on a much greater scale if the Accords were ratified, with hundreds (if not thousands) of identified superhumans now vulnerable. I hesitate to say Bruce will never trust Natasha again, but while he could probably reach a tentative comfortability around her, a romantic relationship might be asking too much. There’s simply too much negative history between them, a lot of which entails broken trust. And once Bruce’s trust in someone is broken, well, it’s monumentally difficult to restore.

[bossuary]

Having just finished Tevinter Nights, I have un fucktonne of questions and theories. But, below are a few of the subjects/problems that I can’t stop thinking about.  I’m curious how other people interpret them, or if I’ve missed some critical details, because it seems like there’s some retconning going on.

so, spoiler warnings apply, since i’m about to discuss the Big Doings below the cut.

The most immediately relevant items come from the final story, right? BUT, because of the nature of the characters, I sort of assumed that much of “The Dread Wolf Take You” is a study in unreliable narrators. Can any of the tales be believed after Charter exposes the Bard? Do we move forward assuming the puzzle pieces we’re trying to fit together are the correct ones, or tread carefully on the word of a known liar?

Nothing about the Assassin’s Tale fits the facts we know: 

Meredith’s corpse didn’t actually stay in the middle of the square in uptown Kirkwall. Her remains were taken away to The Black Emporium. (iirc, Varric mentions this in one of the recent comics)

Pieces of her sword (Certainty) were re-forged for Samson to use in service of Corypheus, a sword which eventually passes to the Inquisition.

A shard of the idol continues to exist outside of Meredith’s remains, or her re-forged blade. Depending on worldstates, the shard is either a weapon rune--forged by Sandal and given to Hawke--or it was given to Varric (who then gave it to Bianca to study, I think). 

In the comics, and in a few of the short stories, the fiasco of Fen’Harel’s agent losing the red lyrium “item” is cleverly handled from a lore-continuity perspective. It’s only ever referred to as a “weapon,” which could mean a lot of things, and allows for greater freedom in describing it in later media. Until the Assassin’s Tale, I firmly believed they were talking about Certainty. Now we’re supposed to believe it’s been the magically re-formed Primeval Idol this whole time, freshly revealed (by the equally untrustworthy Mortalitasi) as a go-go-Gadget ritual blade.

So, are the Tales a cheeky narrative lie, or is it all lore retcon? If it’s a retcon... -What ritual could the blade have originally served? -Might it actually be a key, as lots of people have theorized? -Is there really a potion that can melt lyrium? -Does Solas actually have the idol now, or was his entire story a lie to cover the truth that he still hasn’t found it?

Also, uh. . .Can Solas just. . .kill people while they sleep/dream, even dwarves? I mean, he has demonstrated the ability to create a “dreamlike” state for a dwarf Inquisitor. But, this power seems OP, even for him, and narrative reach. Possibly it’s further evidence that nothing in “The Dread Wolf Take You” can be trusted. 1. If the plans for the Fade are already underway, what does this mean for people like Evangeline, Anders, Grandin, and Sigrid, who’re possessed by spirits/demons? It’s possible they’ll be forcibly separated. Those (like Evangeline) who’re only alive because of their spirit, will likely die. Without Justice, Anders might finally succumb to the taint. 

There are probably thousands of people across Rivain and Seheron, and among the Avvar and the Dalish, who’re contentedly hosting spirits. Would these spirits allow their mortal hosts to be harmed by Solas? Or could there be resistance to his plan from the Fade side of things?

Lots of the stories in Tevinter Nights include the theme of outliers breaking ranks from within a seemingly monolithic society: the Ben Hassrath don’t support the Antaam in their campaign, the Venatori and their supporters operate in defiance of Tevinter, the Crows had one of their Talons disrupt a centuries-old pact.

Going forward in the next game, we might see a spirit faction that, for any number of reasons, acts against The Dread Wolf’s plan to sunder the Veil.

2. Why does everyone in this book describe the red lyrium idol as having only two figures, when every depiction of it that we’ve seen clearly shows three? The crowned figure is (if Solas is to be believed) comforting one person, but no mention of the other poor soul, an even more skeletal figure who seems to be missing their left forearm, and is stuck on the other side of the large ring. No love for that dingus, I guess. Very curious.

And no mention of the serpentine shape that surrounds all three of them.

3. The sea is going to be a big part of the next stage of this story. 

-Mythal’s origin has her emerging from the sea. -In “Luck in the Gardens, the 8 Venatori who were tasked with keeping the “formless” monster in its sealed prison each wore a clay amulet depicting a thin four-winged dragon rising above a sea. -“The Horror of Hormak” describes the viscous gray transformation fluid (and the monsters it creates) as stinking of brine. -The Mortalitasi’s Tale includes a reference to The Dread Wolf screaming about the Sea of Dreams. -The Executors appear to be stepping into the action, finally. They are known as ‘those across the sea.’ -Among the murals discovered during Trespasser, there are some that include imagery of flowing water: The Death of a Titan, and  Lifting the Vallaslin -Before ascending to godhood, Ghilain’nain killed all of her creations. . .except the giant monsters in the deepest waters. Lore says “Pride stopped her hand,” which could mean that she spared them because she was too proud of how perfectly-made they were. Or, that an aspect of Pride (as a demon or spirit), convinced her to let them live.

4. I’ve always thought that the painted murals of Trespasser and those completed at Skyhold are actually of a different sort, in a very specific way. Much of the ornamentation, symbology, and iconography that’s used in the various frescoes in Trespasser. . .isn’t found in Skyhold’s frescoes.   My feeling, based on these differences in style, and the uneven quality of the paintings in the Vir’Dirthara, is that the murals in Trespasser have been painted-over. 

-Thanks to Gatsi, we know that the mosaics we worked so hard to complete for the Inquisition were all re-carved by several hands over the ages, making it difficult to get an accurate interpretation from them.

-During “The Horror of Hormak,” Ramesh and Lesha encounter mosaics depicting elven kings and queens, and their subjects. But the mosaics shift and change the longer they stare at them. The scenes transform from a glittering parade of nobility offering succor to their subjects. . .to a death-march of tyrants forcing magical torments on their slaves. 

-In “Genitivi Dies in the End,” our industrious well-traveled Brother is humbled when he discovers an elven tome that depicts the continent of Thedas in superior and, crushingly, more correct detail to anything he’s ever seen. Which means that either the continent has changed dramatically, or all the maps that exist in modernity are based upon a flawed (altered) source.

There’s an established trope of people from all parts of Thedas altering relics in order to change history’s interpretation of them. So, why would the frescoes/murals be any different? I believe that either Solas, or someone loyal to Solas, altered the murals in order to obscure the truth behind them. 

If we believe Philliam, a Bard! (though, again, an unreliable narrator), the Qunari Rasaan disbelieves all of the names attributed to Solas, either by his enemies or himself. As Philliam posits, to know Solas’ true name would be know the best and worst of him, his flaws and weaknesses, and what he’d “failed to be.”

Essentially, I think we’re being misled at every turn. And this leads me to. . .

5. None of the stories in Tevinter Nights expands on the role of dwarves in past and future conflicts. We get lots of new and juicy stuff on Tevinter, Nevarra, mages, elves, the Crows, the Lords of Fortune, even the Qunari. Noticeably and glaringly absent is any mention of dwarves, titans, and how they fit into the unfolding lore.

One of the largest and most influential groups of dwarves in all of Thedas (The Ambassadoria) lives right in the heart of Minrathous. Above ground. Vulnerable to the invading Qunari and Fen’Harel’s agents.

Dwarves are as tellingly absent in this set of stories as dragons were in all the Evanuris revelations.

The one place where those two things intersect. . .is out in the Hissing Wastes, near the Sunstop mountains (which has always sounded to me like the same naming convention as Skyhold).  

Out there, we come across a dwarven thaig, the only thaig to have been built above ground, that pre-dates the first Blight. It’s called Kal Repartha, which means ‘a place where we may meet in peace.’ Paragon Fairel and his sons appear to have built the thaig as a way to escape some huge conflict in the Deep Roads. 

Statues of Mythal’s dragon form are arranged in places of honor outside Fairel’s tomb. As if in protection. 

Fairel was a rune-smith, one of the greatest who ever lived. Mythal might have worked with Fairel toward some common goal, relying on his skills to make devastating weapons, runic keys for hidden places, or repositories of knowledge best kept secret. She might have protected Fairel as a respected friend and ally.

Reaching a little deeper, Mythal may have helped separate the ancient dwarves from the hivemind control of the titans, freeing them to create their own vibrant society, far from the “witless, soulless” existence they lived as drone-like workers. 

(As an interesting aside, Fairel wrote about dragons, proving that dragons, dwarves, and the Evanuris existed at the same time)

It just seems like the root of this unfolding elven lore is the Titans themselves, the life they created in the dwarves and the tangible world, the innate power of their blood, and the knowledge that was stolen from them. Why don’t dwarves feature more heavily in the anthology?

That’s it. That’s my tinfoil haberdashery at the moment. Thoughts? Corrections?

[whitetigerdemoness]

Taking a break from Marc and Nathaniel to see how the Agrestes are holding up. They'll be back next chapter!

The more massive a star, the shorter its lifespan. A very massive star may live only tens of millions of years, while a cool dwarf will shine on for billions of years. At an age of about 4.5 billion years, our Sun is considered middle-aged

Master Post

Ladybug mentally groaned as she swung around the corner to see the press outside of the Agreste mansion gates. While this was to be expected, it would be nice if they could give the family more than an hour or so to grieve before swarming. Landing on the pillars supporting the front gates she surveyed the crowd, who became excited at her appearance, thinking she should go ahead and get this out of the way before Adrien or Emile had to deal with them. Standing at the head of the crowd preaching to the cameras was...sigh.

“Mr. Berger. Shouldn’t you be in post processing still from your court verdict?” Ladybug asked from her perch on the gate. No way she was going down to their level to get clawed at.

“Ladybug.” Sneered Berger. “Back from setting up your next plot? Or were you just paying off your latest actors?” The Office of Akuma Affairs (OAA for short) stubbornly claimed that all akuma attacks were done by paid actors, paid for by the city’s heroes as publicity stunts. They also ardently ignored the fact that their own leader had been akumatized at one point, something Berger himself denied ever happening.

“Mr. Berger, please. The Agreste family would like some peace to grieve before you start throwing conspiracy theories at them again.” Behind the man, the crowded had gone silent, cameras and reporters eagerly watching the exchange.

“Conspiracy theories? I think you mean exposing the truth. After all, are we supposed to believe that little stunt earlier was real? That some woman just, what, walked into a maximum security prison with an elaborate costume on and killed two prisoners without anyone noticing?” Berger folded his arms smugly, looking condescending.

Turning to the cameras, Ladybug addressed the press “We’re still uncertain to the extent of what happened at the prison today. Any information will go through the police before it reaches my team.”

“Ladybug!” A reporter cut in “What do you have to say about this new Hawkmoth?”

Berger opened his mouth to giver his own two cents but Ladybug cut him off “The appearance of this new Hawkmoth is as shocking to us as it is to you. I know that her more….aggressive approach has frightened many of you but I promise that my team and I will-”

“Aggressive?!” Berger interjected. “She beheaded two people on public television! Think of how many children were watching, now permanently traumatized by what they saw! When are you people going to take real responsibility for these attacks and how they affect the public?” The man screamed, waving his hands theatrically. Ladybug squared her shoulders to fire back at him, when the doors of the mansion swung open.

Emile Agreste, Dusuu zipping around her head in concern, stepped onto the walk and made her way to the gate. She looked pale and drawn, grim. Samson followed a step behind her, looking just as grim but more intimidating. Ladybug jumped down from the gate to meet her.

“Mrs. Agreste-” Emile held up a hand for silence as she continued to approach the gate.

“You ask when we will take responsibility for how Hawkmoth has affected this city? Mr. Berger, I have tried to do nothing but ever since my revival. I thought that as Paon, I could give back to the city where my husband has taken so much. And in thanks, that city has taken my husband from me. From my son.”

“This city hasn’t done anything to you-” Emile cut the man off.

“This city.” She said firmly “Has done nothing but hound and harass my family for MONTHS.  We are only two weeks into this month and already I have had to call the police to deal with armed trespassers on my property twelve times. Twelve Mr. Berger. Last month it was more than sixty times. You and your group especially have hounded me, my son, and anyone even vaguely connected to us for months . I fear for his safety Mr. Berger. I may be a superhero but I am a mother first. Ladybug,” She said grimly, turning to face the heroine, “My public connection to you and the miraculous has brought nothing but ruin to my family. I thank you for all your support, but I am here and now resigning from my role as the holder of the Peacock Miraculous.” Emile unpinned the brooch from her shirt and placed it into the hands of a stunned Ladybug.

“I think it would be better if me or my son were never seen with you again, Ladybug .” Emile stressed. With that she turned her back on the now calmoring reporters and returned to her home. The muffled ‘thud’ of the doors closing echoed in Ladybug’s head as she stared at the miraculous in her hand.

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

Ladybug might have been banned from the Agreste mansion, but Marinette hoped she had read Emilie’s tone correctly that her civilian self was still welcome. Swinging a few blocks away, she had found an out of the way sewer entrance and detransformed. Emilie had thought it wise to keep the subterranean room she had been held in secret from the public, as it provided another entrance into the house that was easy to exploit. When superhero fans and hate groups alike had promptly proceeded to spend nearly every waking (and some they should have been sleeping) hour harassing the Agrestes after Gabriel’s arrest and Emilie coming out to the public as Paon, that turned out to be a wise decision. The secret entrance was an easy way for those in the know to drop by without being harassed by fans or the media. People like Adrien’s girlfriend. Or his boyfriend.

Approaching the secure door that led into the Agreste property, Marinette spotted Luka pacing nervously in front of it.

“Luka!” She said, jogging the last few steps.

“Marinette. Hey.” He said, looking uncertain. Warning flags immediately went off. Luka was almost never indecisive.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, taking his hands.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He chuckled slightly. “Or at least if you’re okay. I saw...well, I think all of Paris did.”

“So you rushed over to see Adrien?”

“Without a thought. Now I’m having second ones. What if he wants to be alone right now? I mean, his father just died and I saw that circus outside the gates. He probably just wants some quiet right now.” Luka stroked the back of Marinette’s hand with his thumb, thinking.

“We left him with Chloe, he’s probably not getting much quiet right now anyway.” Tiki giggled slightly, flying out of Marinette’s purse where she had been consoling a dejected Dusu. The blue kwami trailed after her, his usual zip subdued.

“Hey Tiki...and Dusu? What’s he doing with you, Marinette?” Luke questioned.

“You said you saw the media outside. Guessing you didn’t stay around long enough to hear me, Ladybug, address them.” Luka shook his head, looking worried. Marinette continued on with a sigh. “That idiot Berger was there stirring the pot, and I guess the broadcast was live because near the end Emilie came out and gave him a piece of her mind. Then she publicly resigned as Paon.” She laid her head against Luka’s chest as he hugged her, feeling some of her stress melt away. Some of it.

“Hey. You, me, Adrien. Spa day.” Luka murmured into her hair, stroking her back. Marinette laughed dryly.

“I think we’ll have to invite Marc and Nathaniel this time. They’ve got a bigger headache to deal with than me for once. Though he’s kind of my headache too…” Luka gave her a quizzical look. “Penknight is back. In the akuma battle Paon tried to make a Sentimonster ally and got him instead.”  When Luka’s face scrunched up in distaste, Marinette had to laugh.

“Oh come on. He’s not that bad.” She giggled, feeling even more stress flow away. Luka was good at that.

“Penknight is that bad. If he’s the same as he was last time, someone needs to put him over their knee and spank him, and not in a sexy way.” Luka grumbled. Marinette held her stomach, trying to fight the giggles at that mental image.

“He is a bit of a brat, isn’t he?” She said, trying to control her breathing.

“Say that after you have to babysit him for twelve hours straight. His devotion to Marc was adorable, but he treated everyone else like un-favored playmates that kept trying to steal his favorite toy. Speaking of babysitting, please tell me someone is watching him right now?” Luka said, looking like he hoped that person wouldn’t end up being him.

“Marc, and technically Nathaniel, are keeping an eye on him. We had some...words, to put it lightly that made me think. Marc has his amok and can wrangle him if he gets unruly. Hopefully. Why did I leave him alone again?” Marinette groaned into her hands.

“Because Adrien and Emilie need you right now.” Tiki gently reminded her. “They’ll be happy to see you both, I’m sure.”

“I don’t want to see her.” Marinette almost didn’t hear Dusu, he spoke so low.

“Dusu?” She asked.

“Things got hard and she just abandoned me. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see anyone.” Dusu sniffled as Tiki lay a comforting paw on him. “My wielders all either end up dead or wishing they were, and I’m so tired of losing people. I just want to rest.” He cried, full out bawling by the end. Marinette gathered him up in her hands and hugged him to her chest as best she could. Luka layed a comforting hand over hers as the little kwami cried.

“You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to Dusu. I can leave your miraculous downstairs if you like, and when we get home I’ll put you straight in the miracle box so you can see the other kwami.” Marinette soothed.

“I think I’d like that. We’ve all been separated for so long, and I just want to rest.” Dusu sniffled.

“Well...the sooner we go in, the sooner you can go home.” Luka inhaled, keying in the code to open the door. Marinette followed him inside, leaving her purse with the peacock miraculous and Dusu hanging near the elevator. Tiki decided to stay with him and watch the miraculous. Bracing for more tears, Marinette and Luka headed upstairs.

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

Chloe thought she was being remarkably patient, for her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t relieved to see Marinette and dumpster boy when they came up. At Emilie’s urging, they were all in the sitting room. Emilie and Marinette exchanged a tense stare, before the older woman nodded subtly and the younger woman flew at Adrien with a hug. Luka followed at a more sedate pace. Emilie had turned off the TV after she had come back inside, and Chloe thought that was for the best. Her heart ached for Adrien and his mother, Emilie had honestly been more of a mother to her than her own over the years, but Chloe had always been bad at the touchy feely part. She tended to react to people being upset by putting her back up and lashing out, and she knew that isn’t what either of them needed right now. She had done her very best to be silent up until now, but that time was over.

“So what’s the plan?” Chloe asked, interjecting over the whispered conversation between the trio.

“Plan?” Marinette asked, looking stupid as usual. Chloe still had trouble believing she was actually Ladybug.

“Yes, plan! That new Hawkmoth- Hawk bitch just declared war. You cannot let that go unanswered. Miraculous holders are NOT to be messed with, and the new kid on the block needs to learn that.” Chloe said firmly.

She had spent years watching her father handle political rivals and no matter what people thought, she HAD learned a thing or two. If someone made a threat and you rolled over, you were as good as done for. She stared firmly at the trio across from her so her eyes didn’t stray to Emilie. The younger blond absolutely thought the elder was making a huge mistake giving up her miraculous, especially when Chloe herself had had to fight tooth and nail every step of the way just to hold hers for more than a moment. She hoped that once Emilie had had some time to think, she would realize what a mistake she had made in giving away her power. If this new Hawkmoth was dead set on attacking them, someone without a miraculous would be as good as defenseless against her.

“Chloe, there’s nothing we can do at this point. All we can do is wait for her next akuma and go from there. Not that that matters. We won't defeat her for several years, if ever.” Adrien said glumly.

“What do you mean?” Emilie asked, zeroing in on how certain he sounded.

“A hero from the future visited us once. Bunnix. Hawkmoth was still active in her time, and that was at least three years from now. I thought maybe history had changed somehow when we...defeated Father, but of course it can’t be that easy.” Adrien delivered in a monotone, resting his head on Luka’s chest while Marinette stroked his hair.

“Who knows, kid? The future isn’t as set in stone as people like to believe. If you’ve ever heard Fluff go off an a tangent, which I do NOT recommend by the way, you’d hear about how something as tiny as deciding to wear a green sock instead of a blue sock can spawn hundreds of different alternate realities that can be so alike you wouldn’t notice if you accidentally fell into one, or so different the world has ended or something. Just because of socks!” Plagg cried buzzing around in distress. “Cheese is so much more simple than time!”

“Plagg is right. I told you about the future Bunnix took me to with Chat Blanc. The only thing I changed here to prevent that was not signing my name on your present.” Marinette chimed in. “We haven’t heard from Bunnix in quite some time. We have no way of knowing if her future is going to be ours anymore. Heck, if we really wanted to be sure I could just never give her her miraculous.”

“Wouldn’t work baby bug. Miraculous are funny like that. Fu shoulda told you some of this stuff, but every generation that we’re active in, the miraculous inevitably find their way to the best person to wield them.” Plagg shook his head, crossing his arms.

“What about me?” Chloe asked. “I found my miraculous by accident.”

“There are no accidents when the miraculous are involved. It’s why they’re miraculous and not just...magic rocks.” Plagg said.

“No coincidences...like the first Sentimonster Paon made when akuma attacks started again being Penknight, and not just one of the blob looking ones?” Luka asked thoughtfully. Plagg shrugged.

“That would be more Dusu’s department, but from what I hear? One’s that can pass for people and think for themselves are really rare. I’m shocked you’ve seen two of them in one lifetime.” Plagg said.

“Two?” Emilie asked. “And you have both had dealings with time travel? When was all this?” She asked, looking overwhelmed.

“Nathalie made a Ladybug sentimonster when she was still Mayura. She killed her though by removing her amok.” Marinette said, looking sad.

“As for time travel, short term Luka probably has the most experience. It’s what the snake miraculous does, sends you back in time five minutes. The rabbit can go as far as the wielder wants though.” Adrien explained while Emilie rubbed her temples.

“Why haven’t I ever heard of any of this?” She asked.

“Honestly mom? You never asked. We went through tons of crazy stuff before you were revived due to akumas.”

“And you’re going to go through all that again?” Emilie asked, a stubborn look forming on her face.

“Adrien is the best cat for the job, and if you take it away from him you might be dooming all of Paris.” Plagg cut in, uncharacteristically serious.

“...We may have to do that anyway.” Marinette said softly. “Too many people know our identities. I don’t want to just dump this job on someone else but…” She sighed.

“But nothing! Our friends won't tell anyone!” Adrien argued.

“And if they get akumatized?” Marinette calmly shot back. There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence.

“Oh for heaven's sake! You’re both over thinking this! Plagg JUST said there were no coincidences with the Miraculous. It’s fate or something right?” The destruction kwami made an ‘eh’ motion, and Chloe ploughed on. “If you’re still meant to be Ladybug and Chatnoir no one will find out who you are. The miraculous won’t let them.”

“Chloe it’s not that simple-”

“Could be.” Plagg said, lazily floating on his back. “or you could just erase everyone’s memories of you being Ladybug and Chatnoir.”

“What?!” The entire room, except Samson who was silently watching the exchange, shouted.

“Yesh, don’t yell! My ears are delicate.” Plagg simpered. “The miraculous cure works by fixing what YOU think is wrong.” he waved a paw at Marinette “So if you think it’s wrong for your friends to know your secret identities, they won't. Wouldn’t be the first time you brain blasted them with the cure. Heck, you’ve blasted yourself a few times.” Marinette looked conflicted.

“It can’t be that easy, and is that even morally sound? Altering their memories without their permission?” She worried.

“You should do it.” Emilie said. “Erase my memory too. It’s safer if no one knows but you two.” Emilie’s eyes strayed to Luka.

“I understand.” He told her, over Adrien and Marinette’s protests. “I knew both your identities from the first day you gave me the snake miraculous, but I was also never akumatized again. If this is the best way to keep you both safe…” He trailed off.

“No.” Marinette said firmly. “I won’t lie to my partner, either of you, ever again. Master Fu forced Adrien and I to hide our identities for so long, and it caused so many problems between us...I won’t do that to you, Luka.” Adrien echoed her thoughts.

“But you should do it to me, and your friends.” Emilie cut in.

“Ugh. Utterly ridiculous that I have to let you mess with my head. But,” Chloe sighed dramatically “Anything for Adrikins. Just know that I am not responsible for any schemes I come up with to break you up with him after I forget you’re Ladybug.”

Marinette and Adrien exchanged looks, having a silent conversation. In the end Marinette hung her head and sighed.

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

“Damn Ladybugs.” Penknight growled, swatting at the magical swarm as they tried to approach where he, Marc, and Nathaniel were stiffly sitting on the Anciel’s couch halfway across the city. Sitting across from them in the lounge chair was their biggest obstacle yet: Marc’s overprotective, older sister.

[loquaciousquark]

29th Drakonis. A bit chilly, but mostly grey and choked with foundry smoke, so thick this week I’ve been finding soot on all my windowpanes, both inside and out, which is odd now that I think about it

Well, that’s the last sword away for–oh, what’s his name. Taarbas, Fenris tells me: that Qunari warrior who’s been lurking about in one of the Hightown squares for the last several months. The one who wanted the dead Qunari’s swords/souls back so they could be taken care of properly. They were scattered all over the city, the Coast, Sundermount–I don’t even remember any Qunari wandering up that mountain, just Tal-Vashoth!–but my compulsive heroic magpie tendencies have come to bear really meaningful fruit at last, and all dozen swords are now safely on a ship back to Par Vollen, and I no longer must worry I’ll find a dead Qunari warrior on my doorstep some sunny morning.

Well, not Taarbas, at least. Knowing how this city feels about outsiders (and me in particular), who knows what the postman might deliver with the milk one morning?

He gave me a staff in thanks, which I thought was very odd. I may be basalit-an, but I’m also saarebas unbound, so I was rather surprised to be handed one of the most well-made staves I’ve seen in years without even a whispered suggestion of face-stitching or chained collars. (I asked Fenris, a bit masochistically, if he thought I might pull off the style of those collars; got a black look and a very sour reminder that Danarius used to chain him up like a Qunari pet, so he was hardly qualified to comment on their appearance. Damn and blast, even if he was back reading his book in minutes without even so much as a furrowed brow.)

Still, Taarbas said it was my soul now, and I ought to care for it as such. It’s racked by the fireplace at the moment–I can see it if I lean back in my chair–but for something that ought to be a reflection of the deepest part of me, it’s awfully dangerous-looking. And beautiful, too, but that’s as should be expected, aha.

I can’t decide if I should be insulted or pleased. Knowing the Qunari, perhaps both.

4th Cloudreach. Watery sky, watery seas, watery afternoons. Everything is damp and sticky, but at least it’s still cool

Apologized to Fenris this morning over breakfast for that rotten saarebas comment the other day. He stared at me like I’d grown another head–it had passed out of his mind the minute I’d said it, he told me, and he was more annoyed I’d brought it back up, since it made the whole thing bigger than it ought to be. Well, fine, said I, if he was going to refuse to be offended I’d refuse to offer the apology in the first place, and he rolled his eyes so hard I was offended, and then I threw a breakfast roll at him and he took hold of my shirt-collar to kiss me, and we nearly upset the pastry table together before Sandal came in for an orange bun and rather ruined the mood.

Oh, well. Delayed gratification, and all that. We’re to go hunt down some great “ancient evil under Kirkwall” this afternoon anyway. I swear, this city has more ancient evils and lingering blood magic ritual horrors than the rest of Thedas put together.

Later

If nothing else, I’ve learned that any demon who introduces themselves by name gets a fireball right to the mouth.

Hybris, he was called, the greatest hulking pride demon I’ve seen in my entire life. I’ve never feared for all our lives as I did when that thing stood up…and up, and up, and up, and started pulling shades and lesser demons out of the floor not two levels down from my cellar.

Suffice it to say we all survived, but I’m truncating this entry on account of Aveline needing her broken wrist’s next round of healing and my dislocated shoulder is giving me fits.

Awiergan scrolls, pah. I’ll tuck them in here until I decide not to use them for Sandal’s next craft project. That’ll teach you maleficar to leave your fancy scrolls lying about where any doglord can pick them up and sneeze all over them, you clods!

14th Cloudreach. Late. Showers all day, not wet enough to soak, just enough to be irksome

Just got a frantic visit from Pelarie. Her sister is being suspected of harboring demons in the Gallows. Or consorting with, or possibly consulting–Pelarie was understandably distraught and not quite clear on the details. Jule was with her the whole time, holding her hand so tight her knuckles were white. It’s good there’s no question of her support.

Anders and I are going in just a few minutes. I haven’t touched something like this in years–longer since I’ve done it with him–but this one’s different, and I want no chance of another Alrik situation in those tunnels.

Mother isn’t around to need protecting anymore, after all. Orana and Bodahn understand the risks and have given me leave to go. I sent a runner to Fenris’s mansion, for whatever that’s worth. He didn’t come.

I’ve just heard the door, and I can hear Anders’s voice downstairs. There’s already a crackle to it I don’t like.

Well, we’ll see.

Late. Early, rather

Success. Pelarie’s sister and her sister’s only friend, a little boy of fifteen or sixteen, are off with a friend of Isabela’s (Samson refused to meet us so haphazardly) to the shores of West Hill, and then to a family near Calenhad who is known to be friendly.

Thank goodness they weren’t in the cells yet. Nothing we could have done if they’d already been moved. Being in those narrow stone hallways, though, even if only just for a minute or two…

Ugh. All my hairs are standing on end just at the memory of it.

They looked so young, standing on that ship. Her hair was falling out of its plait and his eyes were huge in the dark. Neither of them had proper cloaks for the weather, though the captain said she’d have something belowdecks they could use until they got safely across the water.

Fenris was here when I got home. He and Pelarie and Jule were all sitting in the great room together in silence, looking very tense; though at least Pelarie and Jule grew relieved as I told them how it had gone. No details yet, for their sakes–I’m certain Meredith will hunt this–but I gave Pelarie her sister’s note and the hug she had me promise, and then they went home, much more…well, cheerful’s not the right word. Less afraid she’d be branded by dawn, anyway.

I thought Fenris would be angry. I didn’t want to meet his eyes, even though I could feel them boring into the side of my head. Still, I’d decided I wasn’t going to run away–Maker knows we’ve had enough of that between us–and so for several minutes we sat there like very quiet little statues while he looked very hard at me and I looked very hard at my gloves, which were very muddy but (for once) blood-free.

Eventually, when I thought perhaps we both might really turn to stone for all the good we were doing, he asked if I’d gone alone with Anders.

Yes, I told him. There are very few people left in or near the city that can be trusted with these last paths that go so deep into the Gallows. I don’t think we’ll be able to use this one again, and I told him that too.

I did tell him I’d tried to send for him, but he hadn’t been home. He said that regardless, I hadn’t waited. That was true.

We sat there in silence for another few minutes; then he shifted, restless as a horse, and said he’d realized something was amiss when I didn’t come to Wicked Grace. Anders we no longer expect, not with any regularity, but me…he’d come here after and found Jule & Pelarie in the great room, and Orana and Bodahn sitting solemnly in the kitchen, and he’d pieced together enough to know where we must have gone.

He’s not angry about Pelarie’s sister, not really. I mean, he is a little, because my assertions that her sister is in fact demon-free are not wholly sufficient for him to allow two untried mage-children loose into the world without supervision, but that’s not what upset him most.

He truly thinks Anders is mad. Dangerous–deadly, even, and deadly to me as much as a templar alone in Darktown.

I wish I could disagree. Anders’s eyes were blue tonight at every step through that tunnel, and more than once I saw the reflection of that blue fissured light when the water got above our ankles. I won’t pretend there weren’t times when he’d speak with two voices, and I found myself very much wishing I had Fenris or Aveline or Sebastian at my back.

But when we had those two on the ship, and I looked over at Anders where we stood in the shallows, he… His eyes were the proper color then. He had a faint smile on his mouth, and he looked so much like his old self for the first time in ages, and he looked…

Flames, he looked so tired. Slumped on his staff, his black coat hanging off his shoulders, just…wrung down to the bone. But he looked like Anders, and when he turned to me and thanked me for giving him a good one to go out on, I nearly wanted to cry.

I don’t think Fenris’s opinion was altered by my telling. But I told him the truth, and he does not hate me, and though he did go to his own home tonight to sleep he gave me a rough kiss on the cheek before he left.

I can hear birds outside my window. And the curtains are grey now, instead of black, so it must be closer to morning than I thought. I wish I could sleep.

I keep thinking about how much Anders has changed. I went back to some of my earlier journals and it’s almost as if he were a different person…I can’t imagine him dancing the Remigold with me now, no matter how I might beg. How I miss him! I hadn’t realized how much. Standing next to him tonight in the bay was the first time I’d felt like I’d spoken to him in years. And now I’ve gone and smudged the whole burning paragraph trying to wipe off the snotty tearstains, so serves me right.

It’s not that I’m the same either, I know. Neither is Fenris, nor Varric, nor Merrill, nor anyone except maybe Sebastian, and even he’s talking about returning to Starkhaven now where he’s never before. I can’t even say that we’ve all moved in a positive direction, between my mother and Merrill’s mirror and Sebastian’s business with the Harimanns and even Isabela’s trial with the Arishok. We’re all a bit more cracked, a bit more worn than we were before. We all have scars. But Anders…Anders has made himself nothing but scars. Nothing but open wounds and bleeding Fade out every inch.

Vengeance, he told me. Not justice.

I don’t think I can pull him back from this.

21st Cloudreach. Warmer today, only light mists this morning and not a drop of rain since brunch

Odd missive from Hubert today regarding the Bone Pit. I’m not wholly sure what it means aside from calamity (at least according to Hubert’s skewed scale), but Varric & Fenris & I are going to go meet Aveline at his stand and see what’s doing. I need to go drop off the last of Solivitus’s orders while I’m out anyway, and today’s the day for Gamlen’s weekly basket, so I think we’ll just make a round of it.

Toby has gotten himself into the neighbor’s hedge again. I can see his furry arse sticking straight up from here. Maker, that dog

23rd Cloudreach

We fought a high dragon, and we killed her, because she killed almost every miner left in the Pit.

She was so deadly and so beautiful.

I didn’t want to kill her. But those miners–I told them. I told them they would be safe, and now they’re dead. And I have to write to each one of their families to tell them.

She had to die, I know. But oh, Maker, how much less wonder is there in the world now for it?

26th Cloudreach. Warmer still, sunny, light clouds

I’m having Sol make me an amulet from a drop of her blood. I’ll carry her with me from here on, even if it’s less lofty travel than she’s used to. Fenris thinks I’m being a fool, but that’s only because she shook him in her teeth like a rag doll and broke almost every one of his ribs, so he’s hardly being objective about the situation.

Varric’s been telling the story every time I walk into the Hanged Man lately. I’m in such a knot over the whole mess–I’ve wanted all my life to fight a dragon, and it was a glorious fight, I can’t deny it. My heart still races when I think of swinging up onto her back and getting the staff-blade of my soul (thank you, Taarbas) up under her scales, digging my heels in until I could blow lightning down her spine to make her let Fenris go.

It was a glorious fight, even if the start of it had more death than it ought.

It’s just…I’ve only just now realized I’d rather fly as a dragon than fight one.

6th Bloomingtide. Getting hotter, I can feel it. The promise of heat, the promise of baking like a beached flounder under the northern sun

Odd thing happened last night. And by “odd,” I mean “a crazed dwarf broke in and tried to murder me in my sleep.”

Fenris has been staying almost every night since the dragon–not for prurient reasons, alas for me, but because his whole torso is a glorious purpling green and he can barely walk. For my good fortune, though, that meant he was thankfully there to hear the bedchamber door click, jolt upright, grunt at his own jolt which woke me up, and spur the lyrium bright enough he could reach over and smack the blade that would have skewered me astray. I’ve got a magnificent scrape going down one shoulder where the dagger’s point still caught me, but I’m alive to write this, so it’s acres better than it might have been.

By that time I was cogent enough to roll off the bed and get fire going in both hands. I could hear Fenris fighting through the pain to get himself up on the other side, but now I could see the dwarf in the firelight, and he looked…

I don’t even know how to describe it. He was pale, pale as if he hadn’t seen the sun in years, and he had a black scraggly beard with patches missing. And his eyes were milky grey, all across iris and pupil alike, so dense I don’t know how he saw a thing to stab at. He had no expression. No rage, no fear, no violence. Just a flat mouth and straight black eyebrows.

“I need the blood of the hawk,” he said, rough as rocks, and came at me again with the dagger. Which is rude, if nothing else, because I happen to be using all my blood at the moment, thank you very much.

Anyway, once I was on my feet it was much more an even fight, even with Fenris hardly able to heft his punches. I kept his attention long enough for Fenris to come around and clock him on the temple at the same time he took out both his knees; then I came after and planted my bare hand on his face and held it there until he stopped moving.

I don’t like killing that way. It’s messy and agonizing and it’s a bad death no matter how you slice it, but he was in my bedroom with a knife and Fenris with every rib broken, and I couldn’t take the chance. What made it infinitely worse is that this dwarf didn’t even scream. He just…died.

Ugh, my skin is crawling all over again. Regardless, my arm was the only casualty, so I tore off the rest of my shirtsleeve and tied it up with Fenris’s help, though now that the rush of battle had worn off he was nearly toppling off his feet and he kept catching his breath when he moved. He had to sit on the side of the bed and wait with the body while I raced downstairs and checked on the rest of the household.

And on that note, Maker bless my beautiful, wonderful, perfect dog. He’d herded Orana, Bodahn, and Sandal all into the kitchen, where they’d locked the door, and when I opened it without thinking (and without introducing myself) he came tearing at me like a fiend from the Void to rip out my throat. I’ve never been on the receiving end of that horrible snarl before. Maker, I’m so proud of him.

Toby realized who I was before killing me, which is good, and settled on whipping tight circles around my knees until I sent him up to sit with Fenris. Orana was less panicked than I’d expected–though they were all a bit rattled, as was I–and then I realized with Hadriana’s household, strangers that burst in at night and threatened a slave’s life might not be all that uncommon.

I told them it was safe and sent Bodahn to find a guard so long as he didn’t leave sight of the house. He did bother to put a proper jacket and boots on, though he forgot to take off the tasseled nightcap, which I didn’t realize until I saw him turn out the door around the corner and the tassel flew out behind. Orana made tea for everyone and Sandal immediately went back to bed, though not before murmuring about hawk’s blood and making me a fair way nervous.

So the guard came, and then she went and called more guards, and they went and called more guards, and the long and short of it is I’ve had a half-dozen strangers in my bedroom since midnight and Fenris and I are both still in our bloody pajamas.

I told Brennan not to wake Aveline until a right reasonable hour, so at least one of us will have had some sleep, but the way word spreads in this city I expect Varric has heard already.  I’m sure he’ll be along shortly to get his nose in the business if nothing else. The sun’s just now risen, so we can see a fair bit more than the lamplight allows (I forbade them from burning down my curtains with open torches–if I’ve managed to keep them unsinged so far, no guardsman’s errant hand is going to turn them into cinders now). He looks just as pale and eerie in daylight as he did in the dark. Almost moreso.

I don’t know what all this means. I have a feeling it’s more than just one mad dwarf with a vendetta, but until Varric comes I don’t think we’ll glean anything more from his body. There’s no letters, no marks, no tattoos, no orders…nothing. At least, nothing we can find. Maybe Varric will have more luck.

Maker, I’m tired. Fenris is sitting stiff as a poker on the library sofa beside me, but I think that’s the broken ribs more than any pique at the attack. Or, Void, maybe it’s both. I don’t know. He tried to read a bit, but we were both too distracted by the thumps from my rooms, so instead we’ve been sitting here twiddling our thumbs and watching the sun come up. And occasionally making sure the other’s alive, just to check.

He said that it reminded him of Tevinter. I didn’t ask, and he didn’t elaborate, but I know enough about what being Danarius’s bodyguard entailed that my heart cracked a bit. Not that I told him that. Instead I told him that next time someone came for the silver of the wolf I’d be happy to be his beautiful, powerful midnight protector and erstwhile lover in turn, though I couldn’t do much about the lyrium, and I’d even let him kiss me after if he wanted.

He smiled at that, and he did let me kiss him, though he hissed and clutched at his ribs when he tried to lean into it. Poor man. I’m fairly certain this fight re-cracked a few of them, but I don’t dare ask to get a good look until the guards leave. Not that they’d report me (I don’t think, anyway–certainly Brennan and Donnic wouldn’t, and I’ve given the rest enough ginger snaps over the years to win at least some good favor), but the last thing I’d ever do is work with the lyrium while strangers were near. I may have a healthy love of spectacle, but that’s outside even my métier.

Well. Sometimes you have rats in the cellar, sometimes you have murderous dwarves in the bedroom. Just depends on your infestation, I guess.

Toby’s come to tug at my pants leg. You don’t need to go outside again, it’s still early. Ah, I hear Varric in the foyer. Now we’ll get somewhere!

Later

The Vimmark Mountains, Varric says, from some notes he uncovered that we missed. Worse, he’s heard from some of his contacts who deal with the Wardens that some of these—these creepy dwarf murderers have been lurking near Stroud’s camps at the base of the mountains as well.

If they’re going after Carver, I’ll scorch every hill and rise bald until the last of them’s flushed into the daylight.

Blood of the hawk. If that’s what they’re after, Andraste, I’ll bring them every last drop.

[queen-parasoul]

So um... Not sure if you take requests for stories or not, but if you do, I had a random idea where Ms. Fortune somehow ends up finding Carol and taking her in after the rejection from her parents, and Carol breaks down sobbing due to the constant pain and wanting her parents, and Nadia comforts her by just holding her and purring like a mama cat trying to calm down her kitten. If you're interested, I'd love to see this done as a short story. inb4 im sending this to the wrong guy

“…And that’s about it.” Nadia finished. “She hasn’t tried to kill me since I found her, so I think she’s fine for now.”

Irvin leaned against the wall and processed her account. The silence of the now closed Dak’kull Dubu gave them plenty of privacy to talk and peace to consider the night’s events. Even their unexpected guest was silent, though they couldn’t help but keep some attention on her.

Across the room, a teenage girl with messy brown hair sat hunched at a table. She had changed out of her strange clothing into a loose t-shirt and pants Minette had on hand, though the grim leather mask was still firmly affixed to her face. The fan of blades attached to her tailbone with a spine-like chord lay motionless on the floor, and the adults could see patches of scars and dark veins beneath her skin even from a distance.

Irvin furrowed his brow. “Was there anything else she mentioned besides Filia and Lab 0?”

“Not much that made sense. Something about a ‘Brain Drain’ and a connection being lost, whatever that means.” She shook her head. “I think she’s purr-obably going to have a hard time adjusting back to a normal life. All I did was startle her and she almost turned me into a pin cushion.”

“Maybe this ‘Filia’ girl can help. Yu Wan said he knew her, didn’t he?”

“He thinks so at least. A girl named Filia stayed here a few nights ago with an old friend of his. Hopefully it’s the same one we’re looking for.”

“Hopefully.” Irvin put his hat back on. “I plan on following this lead on Lab 0. I’ve got an old friend from Lab 8 who might have some answers, and a friend of his who can help her with her, uh…medical problems.”

“You think a doctor can fix this?”

Irvin smiled. “Trust me, he’s a miracle worker. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

He tipped his hat and exited through the front door. Keeping a calm smile on her face, Nadia strolled over to Carol, careful to make her presence known to avoid getting a surprised needle shoved through her torso.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“I’m…okay.” She replied, the rasp and gloom in her voice not exactly convincing.

“You need anything else to eat?”

“No thanks.”

Right. She’d demolished the complimentary meal Yu Wan had whipped up. No surprise, you could have seen her ribs through the outfit she’d been wearing.

“Don’t worry about a thing. You can stay here until we get you back to your parents.”

“My…parents?”

“Yeah, of course.”

She lifted her head, staring at the wall. “My parents…ran away from me.”

Nadia’s ears dropped. She should have known it could only get worse.

“They were scared of me.” Carol continued quietly. “They called me a monster.”

Fighting to maintain her smile, Nadia tried kept positive. “I’m sure they just, uh…didn’t recognize you.”

“Of course they didn’t. And of course they didn’t listen. Just look at me.”

Nadia did, and found Carol touching the tightly stitched material of her mask.

“We’ll get that thing off your face in no time.” She reassured. “Then they can’t paw-ssibly not recognize you.”

The younger girl didn’t respond, and Nadia shifted uncomfortably. She always fell back on wordplay to lighten the mood, but now it seemed inappropriate when she read the room. Unfortunately, puns lightened her mood too, and without them for support she felt strangely lost.

Desperately, she changed the topic. “Do you remember anything else? You mentioned someone named Filia.”

“Yeah.” Carol said, almost fondly. “She’s a friend of mine. We go to the same school together. I think I saw her during the Skullgirl attack, but it’s hard to remember.”

“Anything else?”

“Um…I remember Dog.”

“A dog? What was its name?”

“Dog.”

Nadia quirked an eyebrow but went along with it. “Alright.”

“I remember Samson too.”

The name rang a bell. If it was the same friend Yu Wan had mentioned then maybe they had a chance of finding Filia and fixing this.

“And…I remember the Medici.”

Nadia’s triumph sunk to the pit of her stomach. That name rang a bell too. “Uh-huh?”

“I thought Lab 0 took me, but Valentine-” She winced at the sound of that name, “She told me it was the Medici. But she took me to the lab and then…I couldn’t move and it started hurting. Then I was moving but not always on my own and then I was fighting and it just kept hurting-”

Her voice suddenly became harsh and angry as sharp goosbumps erupted across her arms. Nadia flinched back, hair standing up on end, but Carol shivered hard and forced her skin to settle. The two waited for the raw echoes to dissipate.

“I miss them so much.” Carol muttered. “I just want them to know it’s me.”

Nadia stood by helplessly. No food, no puns, no mercy with this girl. She wondered if she could nab Yu Wan from the kitchen or Minette from upstairs for help, but she felt like that was giving up. She knew what it meant for the world to give up on her - twice, in fact - and she wasn’t about to do that to someone else.

A thought crossed her mind, and she blurted it out. “Do you want a hug?”

Carol stopped sniffling and looked up at Nadia whose arms were awkwardly half-extended to her. The room was silent aside from the muffled waters of Little Innsmouth. Nadia briefly wondered if this was her third strike out.

“Yeah.”

Surprised but thankful, Nadia pulled a chair closer and sat beside her. Arms still clinging to herself, Carol slowly leaned over then suddenly fell into her. Nadia recoiled, but quickly steadied herself and gingerly wrapped her arms around her, being careful not to touch any sore looking areas. Once she’d determined she was safe, Carol let herself whimper and shudder that built into unbridled crying. It went on for longer than either could count as her pent-up grief flooded the night.

After a while, Carol noticed a soft strange rumble reverb against her head. The low hum was enough to distract her and cause breaks in her sobbing. It oddly reminded her of the long car rides from the beach her parents would take her on, nostalgia that soothed her without reminder of her current predicament.

She finally realized, “Are you purring?”

“Yeah, I’m a cat Feral after all. It comes naturally. Does it bother you?”

“…No.” Carol wrapped her arms around Nadia’s torso. “I like it.”

Both finally relaxed for the first time since the Skullgirl attack, or perhaps even longer than that. Carol reminisced in the kinder memories of her home, breath only occasionally hitching while Nadia mentally made plans to visit the makeshift graves of her Fishbone family. They always made sure things were alright, and so would she.

In all the time since they had been taken from her, it had never crossed her mind there could be anyone as broken and stitched up as she was. But there was, and nearly being skewered was worth it to find her.

[cannibal-wings]

With You Always (Part 1)

“With You Always” a two part post about Flash Thompson and the Venom Symbiote. Flash and Venom were together as partners for a very long time, from 2011 till 2016, and they’ve had their share of good moments and bad. This post has a lot of the good. 

As far as Venom hosts go, I think Flash Thompson had the most growth and change in their relationship that we’ve seen. Granted, this might also be because they were together for a fairly large chunk of comics and were in several stories.

Not everything was always the best, their early relationship was far from perfect. But I’d like to argue that even in those very first issues they cared about each other. Flash was very quick to call Venom his partner, and adapted the “We” pretty early on too.

This was after their first actual mission together in ASM #654.1.

I love this bit from Spider Island. Spider Island happened fairly early into their partnership, but Flash is already using “We” even when he probably shouldn’t because his over paranoid military team doesn’t trust him. (ASM #666)

Their early relationship is interesting. Because most of the arguments come about because of control and who should have it. Obviously Flash would like most, well all, of the control, and Venom thinks he should have a chance at being in the driver’s seat.

The context behind this is that this is a Venom straight off of Mac Gargan. With Gargan Venom was allowed to the absolute worst, no filter, Venom could do pretty much whatever and Mac was also ok with just being terrible. Venom’s history up until this point hadn’t been very great. With Eddie they were villains at the start, then slightly better anti heroes near the end. But they were still violent, still killed, and that combined with Gargan didn’t leave Venom in the best light. So it was only natural to be very wary of giving Venom any sort of power or control.

You can’t really blame Flash for believing this narrative either, because he lacked all the personal background information, all the baggage that Venom came with. Of course, he figured out later that Venom was not, in fact, a murder machine. But by that time it was nearly impossible to go against the military and very unwise to go against the Avengers. (Doesn’t mean Flash didn’t go behind both of them haha) And it’s not like Venom wasn’t also aware that he wasn’t the best one to have control.

Venom 2011 #4. Venom’s not stupid. And there’s an interesting shift that happens in the early Agent Venom days, Venom realizes and wants to be a hero again, and knows that the best chance he has at being a hero is with Flash. What exactly the drugs the military was giving Flash is still a bit of a mystery. Sometimes they’re simply called “sedatives”. They clearly didn’t silence Venom as Flash and Venom talk during their time as Agent Venom. My guess is that they cut off the ability for the symbiote to take over fully. At least, until the Avengers get a hold of Flash and Venom. Those drugs were much more powerful and possibly cut off all communication between Venom and Flash, as we stop seeing Flash talk with Venom during most of the Avengers era.

It’s ok, Venom chews Flash out for this in Venom 2011 #41. You can also make the argument that Flash stopped taking the drugs during the end of the Philly arc because he’s never shown using them once he moves.

Regardless, it couldn’t have been too terrible because Venom keeps going back to Flash. Like, a lot. There are many, many, moments were Venom was pulled away from Flash and free to go yet he chooses to go back.

Venom 2011 #2. Venom likes Flash enough to not ditch him in the Savage Lands. This is a nice bit, because, like I said, Venom has decided to take a shot at being a good guy again, and this is shown here. He wants to finish the mission and save people. Some could say the “soothing friend’s voice” was Venom manipulating Flash to accept it back, but why would it bother when it could jump to literally anything in the Savage Lands and make a break for it.

If Venom didn’t enjoy Flash even a little bit then he wouldn’t have bothered to remove the bomb that was implanted on them and then choose to give up on fighting Spider-Man for Flash, to save Betty.

At this point Flash doesn’t know he’s bomb free, only Venom does. Venom makes this choice not to save Flash from being blown up, but because Venom actually values Flash and knows Betty is important. (Venom 2011 #4.)

Let’s talk more Spider Island because I loved Spider Island as a story and there’s a few other good Venom and Flash moments.

I love this page, because if you know anything about Venom its that he doesn’t just “get over” previous hosts and that he’s still pretty obsessed with Eddie. I’m not sure who Venom’s trying to reassure here, Flash or himself. (Venom 2011 #7)

Here’s a fun panel. Venom is telling Eddie to get off of us. Venom is protecting Flash and taking over to save them, save their partnership. Of course, Venom like a few panels later tries to take over Eddie, (because like I said, Venom has issues getting over exes.) But then something interesting happens. Flash asks Venom to come back to him. To give up Eddie and return. And Venom does. He returns to Flash, no fight. Flash just asked.

Venom 2011 #7. You aren’t fooling anyone Flash, we know you’re not lying. But even if he was lying. Venom left Eddie because Flash asked and that means something.

Venom saves Flash from Spider Cap, again, Venom could have just run, left Flash behind and been free. But he came back. Also Samson is a very good dog. (Venom 2011 #6)

Since we’re talking about Spider Island I cannot miss the opportunity to talk about the alternate Spider Island during the Secret Wars. In this story the Queen wins and takes over all of New York. Flash and Venom lead a band of survivors against her. It’s a very good story and I recommend it to anyone who likes Flash, or just likes the Spider Island concept. It has a really emotional ending that involves Flash asking Venom to separate and take down the Queen in what is most definitely a suicide mission.

The tears are real, from both me and Flash.

(Secret Wars Spider Island #5) Onward to Part 2: Superior Spider-Man, Carnage USA, Guardians of the Galaxy and Space Knight!

[mollysmythtymsyllom]

A Chance to Save a Life

[Saturday 11:27 PM]

Will stumbled across his kitchen, knocking into a chair on his way to the freezer and toppeling it over as he passed. He cursed his younger brother under his breath as he opened the freezer door, pulling down a bag of frozen peas. He could feel the dried blood on the side of his face, cracked and peeling. At least he wasn’t still bleeding. He didn’t know how long he had been knocked out. Will pressed the frozen vegetables against the side of his face, just over his left eyebrow, right where Zach had punched him. What happened? He thought to himself, fighting to forget about the pain he was feeling and to focus on why Zach had punched him. He was forgetting something very important, something urgent, but what was it? Will moved to pick up the chair that he had knocked over, propping it upright and taking a seat at his kitchen table.

[Saturday 6:04 PM]

Ryan’s hands were in her pockets, fists balled as she walked, trying not to think about just how badly she was craving a good high. Quitting cold turkey was not easy, but she wanted to do it for Pam. She wanted to get better, to be better. She wanted to get away from Scott Mason and his evil ways. She didn’t want to have anything to do with the man anymore. Leave Scott to me. That’s what Pam had said, leave Scott to me. Ryan was nervous about what that could mean. She didn’t want Pam to start killing again. Not for her. It had been about a week since Ryan had stopped using, about a week since she had gone to Scott Mason for more drugs. He had called her a few times, but each time she had ignored the call. Little did she know that she was just angering the man.

As Ryan walked, she started to feel like she was being followed. She knew that parinora was just one of the many symptoms that came along with withdrawal, but that didn’t stop the feeling from consuming her. Ryan picked up her pace, and the man behind her did too. She broke out into a run, ducking and dodging the other city goers as she moved along the sidewalk. Maybe she would have been fast enough to get away from the man if she wasn’t so weak from withdrawal, but that wasn’t the case. The man caught up with her, and as she turned to face him, ready to start calling out for help, she froze, recognizing him for a brief second. The man standing in front of her was Scott’s right hand man, Ben Samson. The split second it took Ryan to connect the dots was all Ben needed to grab her, and pressed the chloroform soaked clothes against her face.

[Saturday 11:32PM]

The Chance household was uncharacteristically quiet on that night. Tessa and the four youngest Chances were away for the weekend, visiting their big brother Max on the other side of the country. The only ones were still home were Will, Zach and . . . Ryan. “Fuck!” Will sprung up from the chair, moving too fast and immediately getting dizzy in his rush to find his cell phone. Ryan was in serious trouble. “Where’s my phone? Where’s my fucking phone?” Will searched his pockets, then stumbled through his apartment toward his room. His phone was on the bedside table, charging.

[Saturday 7:45PM]

Ryan’s head throbbed as she came too, her eyes opened, but it took awhile for the blur around her to come into focus. She was sitting, zip tied to a folding chair, her wrists digging into the plastic that bound her. Standing crouched in front of her, his face less than a foot from her own, was Scott Mason. His expression was calm and curious. He watched as she blinked a few times, a cruel smile creeping into his lips as her recognition dawned on her own face. “There’s my girl.” he said, reaching out a hand to gently cup her cheek. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” Ryan felt dizzy from the drugs that had knocked her out. She felt like she was going to throw up, but there wasn’t anything in her to throw up in the first place. It had been hours since she had anything to eat. Scott stood up straight, and tilted his head, still looking down at Ryan. “You haven’t been answering my calls.” Ryan noticed that he wasn’t alone. His two top men were standing a few paces back on either side of him. Ben on his right, licked his lips, his amusement clear in his oafish features. Cole on the left, couldn’t make eye contact with Ryan. He was trying his best to seem disinterested, but Ryan knew better. Ryan and Cole were friends. She didn’t blame him for not helping her. That would only put him in Scott’s line of fire too. “Is your phone broken, Sweetheart is that the problem?” Ryan swallowed, there was nothing she could say to defuse the bomb that had already been set to go off. Now it was only a matter of time before Scott hurt her, or worse.

“McCarthy.” Cole stood at attention when his last name was called. “Go untie her,” Scott said as he reached for the cigarette that he always kept behind his ear. Cole did as he was told, walking behind Ryan to cut the zip ties. “She’s not going to try and run, my girl is too smart to pull something like that. Aren’t you, babe.” Ryan could barely hear him, all her focus was on the unlit cigarette in his hand. He only ever took it out from behind his ear for one reason. “I’m sorry,” Cole said softly as he bent down to cut the plastic, then he was up and moving back to Scott’s side. Scott held his hand out to Ben, who handed him a lighter. “Unlock your phone for me, Ryan,” Scott spoke kindly, his eyes on the lighter and not the woman in the chair. Ryan did as she was told, she had no other choice. Scott took the phone and checked the recent calls. “So, it looks like my calls were coming through.” This was for show. He didn’t for one second actually believe that the reason she wasn’t answering his calls had to do with tech issues. Scott Mason could be a bit of a drama queen. “This upsets me, Ryan,” Scott said as he handed the phone away to Cole. “You know what happens when I get upset?”

[Saturday 11:34pm]

Will reached the bedside table and grabbed for his phone, pressing the home button over and over again. He phone did not turn on. Panic set in as he tugged on the charger cord only to find that it wasn’t plugged into the wall. “Fuck!” he shouted, throwing his phone away. He stood there for a moment in his room, breathing heavily, head pounding, then it was off toward the front door.

[Saturday 7:50pm]

Zach was on his way home from the gym when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it, and saw his sister Ryan’s face on the screen. He had no idea why Ryan was calling him. He answered with a smile. Maybe she wanted him to pick up a pizza on his way home. Maybe she was calling to tell him that she’d be spending the night with her girlfriend Pam. “Hello,” he said, expecting Ryan on the other end of the call. There was no answer right away, just a shuffling sound. “Ryan?” Still nothing, wait muffled talking. “Is this a butt dial?” He chuckled and tried to listen to what was going on outside of the pocket that Ryan’s phone was in. “You know what happens when I get upset?” It was a man’s voice. “You see, I got curious when you stopped coming round. I got worried for you, sweetheart.” Zach fought the urge to gag. “I sent some of my guys to look into where you’ve been, and I was surprised to find that you’ve been seeing someone. Imagine my pain when I learned that you weren’t being loyal to me, Ryan.” Then Zach heard a small whimper. “Please.” It was his sister’s voice. Zach froze, ears straining so as not to miss anything. “You see, I can’t have you seeing other people, Ryan. You belong to me.” “I’m sorry, please. Just don’t, Scott you don’t have to do this.” “Hold her down.” “Please, no.” “Here’s the thing, Ryan. I need to get something through to you. I need to make sure that this doesn’t ever happen to me again. To make sure that you never stray again. I need you to know, that if I can’t have you, no one can.” Then there was a loud scream of true pain and then the phone hung up. “Ryan? Ryan! Shit!” Zach ran the rest of the way home.

[Saturday 8:15pm]

Will plugged his phone into it’s charger, then made his way to the living room. He didn’t often have the one TV in the apartment all to himself, so he was going to capitalize on this opportunity. He was halfway through his show when Zach came bursting through the front door. “Ryan’s in trouble!” Zach shouted before he bent over, hands on his knees. “What?” Will turned off the TV, growing at his brother. “Ryan, she’s, she needs us.” Will stood up quickly and looked toward the door, half expecting Ryan to come in behind his younger brother. His first thought was that Ryan had overdosed once more. “He has her,” Zach went on. “That Scott guy. He has her and he’s hurting her.” Will frowned. “How do you know this?” Zach held up his phone. “She pocket dialed me. Will, come on, we have to go rescue her.” Will shook his head. “We have to call the cops, Zach. We have to let the professionals handle it.” “Are you fucking serious right now? This is Ryan we’re talking about. This is our sister. I’m not leaving her fate in the hands of the G.C.P.D.” “We can’t go ourselves, what good would we be?” “I’ll go in and take them out, and you can do your doctor thing once we get to Ryan. I have a feeling she’s going to need you.” Will simply stood there. Zach seemed to swell with rage. “I’m going.” Will shook his head. “I can’t let you do that, Zach. You’re only going to get yourself hurt too.” Man he wished that Tessa was home. She’d know how to handle this. She’d know how to get Ryan back and keep Zach calm. Zach turned to leave. Will grabbed him by the wrist to stop it. Zach turned and took a swing at his big brother. The hit connected with Will’s left temple, effectively knocking the older man out.

[Sunday 12:13am]

Will sat in the back of the taxi, his mind racing with all the possibilities. He couldn’t get the images of both Zach and Ryan dead on a stretcher, being rushed to the hospital. He had seen too many bodies. Too many people who had been on the wrong side of violence and hadn’t made it out alive. Were his siblings about to be added to that list? No, he had to do this. He had to get help. He was doing the right thing here. . . Right?

[Saturday 9:00pm]

Zach sat by in the subway, wrapping his hands with boxing tape from his bag. His knuckles were barley bruised from punching Will, but he could feel the dull ache when he flexed his hand. He wasn’t going to let that get in his way. He wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone get in his way. Zach was going to save his sister. He was going to fight the way he had been trained for the past year, but he wasn’t going to hold back. If he had to kill a thug or two to save Ryan’s life, he would.

[Sunday 12:25am]

Will reached the door, and stopped taking a few deep breaths to brace himself. He swallowed, closed his eyes and knocked. When Thea opened the door, he spoke. “I need your help. I need the Huntress.”

@gothxmcitysirens

[paulvibe]

Just Friends - Part 4 (Paul McCartney x Reader)

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: none

Summary: Paul and you go to a TV interview

Authors Note: Thank you guys for waiting like 2 weeks for this. I apologize, I got super caught up with work and other personal things. I promise I’ll develop a upload schedule!

Your day started normally, you woke up extra early to get ready. You had coffee, ate breakfast, and then stood in your closet for half an hour deciding what to wear. Normal attire for you is jeans and a t-shirt. Working at a bakery, you tend to ruin a lot of your clothes. Once you’d decided on an outfit, you waited patiently for your ride. Paul picked you up, right at Nine, like he promised; however this time there was a driver so he was sat in the backseat with you. The station was across town, making the drive long, with the addition of traffic.

“You feel okay?” Paul asked, grabbing a hold of your hand and squeezing it.

“Yeah, I’m excited to see what a day in the life is for you.” You spoke, a small smile adorning your face. It was weird to see Paul as an adult. The last memory you remember is his young, twenty year old, smiling face waving goodbye to you as he and the three other Beatles took off from Liverpool.

“Ah, the life of a rock star.” Paul joked with a smile. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. His hand still held onto yours as the two of you fell back into a comfortable silence. You gazed out of the window, watching buildings go by. Paul’s thumb gently rubbed along one of your knuckles. It was comforting. He always had a way of calming you, even if you were relaxed before.

“How are the boys? I haven’t seen them since you left. I mean, in person.” You asked softly, turning your attention back to Paul.

“They’re quite well. John and Yoko are working on their solo music. Along with George and Ringo. Y’know, George is having a dinner for Ringo’s birthday next week. Would you like to come?” Paul asked.

“Oh god, do you think they even remember me?” You spoke, removing your hand from Pauls to face him better. You, in your own goofy way, were the ‘fifth Beatle’. You would tag along to almost every show until your parents got mad for traveling to Germany so frequently.

“I talked more about you than I did Jane. You and I have a lot of stories together.”

Your forgot about Jane. Paul had dated her for the majority of the Beatles. You read in the tabloids about their breakup a few years ago. Even though you valued your friendship with Paul more than anything, there was no denying the crush you had on him. When headlines of him and Jane first started to pop up, it was like a knife in your chest.

“We were idiots. Like, for instance, when we tried to jump into the creek from my treehouse and I broke my arm. Mom was furious. She told me I was no longer aloud to be friends with you.” You laughed at the memory, brushing off the mention of Jane.

“She can’t keep me away from you.” The man joked, and then winked at you. You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped the side of his arm. “Your mum never really liked me, did she?”

“Well, she had her moments. For example, when you brought me chocolates and flowers after Harry Samson broke up with me. She raved on about how handsome and sweet you were.” You answered. The memories you had with Paul were priceless.

“That guy was a real wanker, wasn’t he?” Paul chuckled. You nodded in agreement, laughing softly as well.

You were nearing the station by now, and herds of fans stood outside. They held banners and posters, all trying to gather Paul’s attention.

“Take us around back.” Paul instructed the driver, gathering his things. You watched as the flock of people tried to follow the car, but a gang of security stopped them. The car parked, and Paul climbed out, rushing to open your door. You thanked him and the two of you walked into the studio.

People hustled about, rushing here or there to do this and that. The stage looked like a typical talk show set. Two one-seater couches sat on a raised stage, with a basic coffee table in the middle. Several cameras sat aimed at the small stage, and people fidgeted with them as to make sure they were in mint condition. Bright lights shone from overhead, illuminating the simple scene. Paul calmly grabbed your hand, squeezing it as to assure you that he was there incase you became overwhelmed. This was still new to you, I mean, you’d never been to a place like this before. You were just a baker.

“Paul!” A deep voice exclaimed. You jumped slightly and turned to see a tall, stocky man walking towards the two of you with his arms open. He adorned a grin and a cigarette.

“Bobby, Hello.” Paul spoke releasing your hand, holding out his own for the other man to shake. Bobby grabbed ahold and Paul’s hand and shook it, while placing his other hand on his arm.

“I’m so glad we finally got you on the show!” Bobby grinned, letting go of Paul’s hand. “Who’s this little number, huh?” He asked, gesturing to you and taking a drag from the cigarette in his mouth.

“This is (Y/N), (Y/N) this is Bobby. He’s the host.” Paul smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You smiled shyly, and nodded at Bobby.

“Quite the arm candy.” The tall man smirked at you and winked. You sank closer to Paul, not liking the unwanted attention. “How’s about we get you into costume and makeup, aye? Your lovely little friend can sit next to me while you get ready.” Bobby snapped his fingers and two young women ran over to you and Paul. Paul removed his arm from around your shoulder as the makeup ladies dragged him away, leaving you alone with Bobby.

“Drink? Smoke?” Bobby questioned, leading you to a small seating area.

“I’ll take a water.” You said softly, sitting down onto one of the couches. You glanced across the room, seeing Paul in the makeup chair getting powdered by one of the ladies. She was giggling and so clearly pushing her chest into his face. It made you sick with jealousy.  

“You don’t smoke?” Bobby continued, bringing your attention back to him. He poured you a glass of water from a pitcher that was sitting on a snack table next to you.

“Oh, I quit a few years back.” You answered. After becoming a baker, you decided to quit. The real reason you picked up smoking was from the stress of nursing, it gave you an excuse to take a break every few hours.

“Shame. What I’d give to be a cigarette between your lips.” Bobby winked at you while handing you the glass. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, giving him a pity chuckle and sipping your water.

“Why did you quit?” Bobby observed, ashing his cigarette. He now sat in the chair opposite yours.

“Well, It wasn’t helping like it used to. The flavor got boring.” You shrugged, looking at the man. He nodded quietly and took a swig out of a cup next to him.

“How long’ve you known Paul?” He then asked, after setting the cup down.

“Since we were children.” You responded, sipping your water again. Your gaze led back to Paul. He had changed now, and was looking into a full length mirror while adjusting his outfit. The makeup ladies still stood by his side, rubbing their hands down his outfit. You knew it was to help with the wrinkles, but it still made you seethe with jealous feelings.

“Have you ever thought about becoming a model? I know people--” Bobby began.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the show?” You responded a little harshly, looking back at him. Bobby stared at you, not used to being shut up.

“I guess so.” He muttered, standing up and putting his cigarette out. You nodded at him and he huffed, walking away. You let out a sigh of relief, untensing your shoulders. Something about him made you feel weary. Maybe it was the creepy comments, or how his eyes always looked at you like he was undressing you. Either way, you were glad he was gone now.

Paul was still getting ready, switching outfits to choose which one they liked better. You sat and watched quietly as the crew got ready, along with the talent. A few other celebrities -- whom you didn’t know well enough to remember their names -- were supposed to be on the show as well, getting ready alongside Paul. It was interesting to see when the man would put on his ‘showtime’ personality. He was much more stern, more put together, more polite. It was almost how he acted in front of your parents.

“Hi. I’m Nancy.” A lady spoke, sitting down next to you. She had long, brunette hair and she wore a flowing dress down to her feet.

“I’m (Y/N).” You responded with a friendly smile.

“I’m Teddy’s wife.” She spoke, eating a handful of crackers she grabbed from the snack table. Teddy must be one of the celebrities that you didn’t know. “Who’re you here with?”

“Oh, um, Paul.” You replied, taking a sip of your water, and nodding vaguely towards the man.

“Shut up, you’re dating Paul?” Nancy exclaimed, slamming her cup down onto the coffee table. A few people looked over in your direction, trying to locate the disruption.

“Oh, god, no, we’re just- No, we’re only friends.” You stuttered over your words.

“I was about to grill you on how you managed to get the cutest Beatle. I’ve had the biggest crush on him ever since I was twelve.” She spoke, laughing.

Join the club.

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

There was about 30 more minutes of Paul getting ready before it was time to shoot. Him and Bobby sat on the set, making small talk while the crew prepped for shooting. You now stood behind one of the cameras, getting a closer look at the set rather than in the back by the snack table. You and Nancy had chatted for a while about random subjects before you said your goodbyes and went to watch Paul.

“Alright, and 3, 2…” The director spoke, then pointed at Bobby.

“Good Evening Britain! I’m Bobby Reed, and you’re watching Good Evening Britain. Tonight's guests are John Simon, Teddy Green, and the lovely, illustrious, Paul McCartney. Paul! Welcome to the show.” Bobby’s TV personality was much more professional than regular Bobby.

“So happy to be on, Bobby.” Paul smiled at the man across from him, and then looked at the cameras. His eyes spotted you and he winked. You blushed and waved at him.

“So tell me, what are you up to?” Bobby asked, playing with some queue cards in his hands.

“Well, nothing new. Just relaxing, Y’know.” Paul spoke with a shrug.

“I get that, you’ve had a busy past ten years.” Bobby laughed, and Paul gave a small chuckle in agreement. “And of course, all the ladies want to know if you’re seeing anyone?”

“Oh goodness,” Paul began, his eyes met yours and you smiled reassuringly at him, giving a small thumbs up. “Do I have to answer?” Bobby let out a hearty laugh at Paul’s comment. You felt a little hurt by Paul’s answer, though you really felt like you had no reason to be upset. It wasn’t like you and Paul were dating. You were just friends.

“Well, ladies, let’s just say he is.” The host spoke, looking into the cameras.

The interview continued on. Bobby kept asking Paul invasive questions, claiming the viewers want to know. He brought up The Beatles, and asked if Paul had any plans to make more music. Paul remained professional, however you could tell he was getting fed up. He was bouncing his leg, and picking at his fingernails. Finally, the interview ended after about 10 minutes of them talking. Paul walked over to you.

“That guy is a complete wanker.” He whispered in your ear, so no one else would have to chance to listen in.

“He does give off the ‘Hey girl, I’ll make you famous but you gotta give me royalties first’ vibe.” You chuckled. Paul snickered at your comment.

He thanked the cast and crew, as well as changed out of his borrowed outfit before the two of you left the studio. Most of the fans had left by the time you two were ready to leave. They had managed to weasel their way to the back, and were waiting for Paul to come out. He politely signed pictures, and other random things for them. You stood quietly to the side watching as these girls fangirled over Paul. After he’d finished talking to the fans, he grabbed your hand and led you to the car that was waiting.

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

Taglist: @starlight-and-moonshine thanks for reading sunshine!

[buddiebeginz]

Thoughts on tonight’s episode: (this is me venting and most of it isn’t positive so avoid if that’s not your thing)

-The Robron stuff-

So first thing upon getting up after they decide to get married officially the first thing Robron decide to talk about is Rebecca. 🙄 Seriously?

I have to say I agree with an anon I saw around on tumblr that said something about how they think one of the main reasons Rob proposed was because he’s wants Aaron to adopt Seb. While I don’t think that’s the only reason it definitely feels like the one the show is focusing on especially since they never really told us why Rob or Aaron wanted to propose all of sudden.

Not only was Rob calling Rebecca in the scene we saw, him and Aaron were talking about her, then we had Lachlan talking about Rob calling about Rebecca. I mean wtf?!

I don’t care how much fandom thinks I’m just being negative. Robron deserves better. The show thinks they can just throw us a special episode here and there and that’s enough. And you know what it’s not. I mean as much as I love every single kiss they ever have look at their kisses compared to the straight couples. Look how their scenes and how most of their physical interactions are compared to the straight couples. You can tell that the show tries to keep it super tame with Robron.

I know that the UK has the watershed but if the straight couples get to be more affectionate and even sexual sometimes Robron should be able to as well. I mean when was the last time Robron had a sex scene? When have they ever even had a scene where they woke up in bed together? The only time they’ve been together in the bed in the mill was for the reveal episode and the only reason that happened was so Rob could tell Aaron.

I know most of fandom doesn’t want to hear about this and I know most of you are just happy with whatever bone the show wants to throw you with Robron but I’m not. The show has a serious double standard for how they treat the straight couples vs the gay ones and even Vanity gets treated better than Robron (to an extent) because they’re two women and not seen as nearly risque. In society two women together are often seen as being more palatable especially by people who aren’t comfortable with lgbtq representation, they view them as just experimenting or whatever. While seeing two men together doing something as simple as kissing has always been seen as more sexual and even threatening to close minded people when it’s just not.

It’s obvious The show tries not to push the boundaries with Robron because they don’t want to alienate their conservative viewers and they worry about censorship problems. But they’ve shown a lot of things that push the boundaries of what should really be acceptable at 7pm with the straight couples showing nudity even at times.

Robron aren’t an old married couple they’re a young couple who the show is painting as so in love they want to get married twice. Yet instead of being super into to each other and excited about the wedding and talking about that they sit and talk about Seb and Rebecca. They didn’t seem excited about the fact that they’re getting remarried. Remember the kiss we got back in Oct of 2016 where Rob was so in love with Aaron he practically dragged him into the pub bathrooms and kissed his face off. Like where is their passion?

---

While it was nice to hear some of Aaron’s pov on Seb and what he wants I still think he has reservations given that look he gave Rob. I’m NOT saying he doesn’t love Sebo or that he doesn’t want to be a dad. It just seems insane to me to think that a person who had the kind of childhood he did wouldn’t have any fears or insecurities about the idea of being a dad. I think it makes sense if he still had some mixed feelings on things given his history and how Seb came to be all. Plus this all feels super rushed to me and it feels like Aaron and Rob should have been having convos about how he feels regarding Seb a while ago but the show is just throwing this is now for whatever is coming next.

Rob saying Seb has his genes really seems like a red flag to me about the paternity along with other things that’s been going on. Like with Ross being sort of brought back into the storyline for Rebecca, the random all of a sudden adoption talk, and then all the Rebecca Lachlan stuff. Plus I keep getting the feeling the show is hinting at Rob finding something first when he was looking around in Rebecca’s things and then when he was looking through her book. Plus there’s the Christmas episode with all the foreshadowing that feels like it’s all pretty much come true. Which Rob had been the focus of that and in the episode they said something happens with Seb and that’s like the last part that hasn’t played out yet.

I know some think there's no chance for a paternity twist but there has always been one. If ED wanted to shut down any doubt about Seb’s paternity they could have done it after he was born like the did with Isaac and Cain and they never did. It’s highly possible that Robron gets to a point where they think everything is great, they get remarried, then try to adopt Seb only to find out he’s not Rob’s. This means the adoption talk was brought up so that it could lead them down the road of adopting their own kid. Not saying it has to happen but the possibility is definitely there.

---

The engagement party at the mill is yet another foreshadowing of the Christmas stuff (when Rob walked into the mill and saw everyone around the table). And as much as I love that the family came to support them it still felt like the rest of all of this proposal stuff rushed and just shoved in because they need it for further storylines that are coming up.

The party didn’t really feel like it was about Robron it felt like it was about everything else and the majority it felt like it was about Rebecca and I’m sorry but that is just utter bullshit. You have two men who are going to get married and the only thing that they talk about at their engagement party is the woman who did her damnedest to try and come between them. I’m tired of being told to just get over this. I’m tired of being told I’m just being negative. Rebecca being shoved in Robron’s lives this much is homophobic and unnecessary. Robron’s engagement should be about them promising to spend their lives together forever. Robron should look like a loved up couple excited about their future together especially after what they went through last year. They should be talking about what they’re going to do for the wedding instead it was all about Rebecca. Most of the people who should have been there weren’t even there. Like why have Vic of all people working the pub when she’s Rob’s brother? They only had one scene at the end where the wedding was even talked about so it’s like all those people showed up but not one scene where people were going up to Robron saying congratulations to the happy couple.

I still don’t understand this attitude change of Chas either. I can understand Chas supporting Robron but she should have some skepticism after what happened last year I just don’t like the way they’ve written her this year. I want her and Rob to be on good terms but I don’t want a Chas who walks around like she has amnesia or feels like a different person.

So Rob is so in love and so excited about getting remarried he leaves his engagement party to go browse through Rebecca’s memory book. He couldn’t have possibly done that later??? >_<

Lachlan: Rebecca caused the crash because you Rob took Seb. So really it's Rob's fault. As usual Rebecca is blameless.

Yes Lachlan is lying to Rob but the show is still painting Rob like the bad guy for the day he took Seb. Like if he hadn’t taken Seb none of this would have happened. Never mind the fact that Rebecca was about to take Seb and leave the country that day so that’s still okay.

Rob would never just believe everything Lachlan says this is sooo stupid.

So has Liv really given up on all the stuff with Lachlan cause it kind of seems like it and if so that is also stupid.

Liv got more of a proposal from Aaron for her to be “best person” at the wedding than Rob got from Aaron to be his husband. Still bitter that the proposal went down the way it did.

Nice to know Robron are finally getting a stag do. Let’s hope it actually happens on screen and involves a ton less Rebecca.

-Sam/Lydia/Samson-

Look at the Sam and Lydia scenes yesterday and today. Look at how Lyda is able to be physical when comforting Sam. Hugging him and kissing him. This is What I'm talking about is missing with Robron. 99% of the time we only get physical affection on special episodes like we got yesterday and today. And while I loved it Robron deserves more. We deserve more as a fandom.

I know Samson was upset about his mom but it doesn't make sense that knowing the kind of caring kid he is he would just stand there and not be worried after pushing Lydia down the stairs.

-Graham and Joe-

I feel like this flashback episode with Graham should have happened a while ago. Like after he told Debbie about his history. Because it kind of feels like it came out of nowhere now. Like ED have had a lot of time to develop Joe and Graham more and they’ve just let them stagnate. They’re treating Joe like he’s this new and improved redeemed guy but he’s never atoned for all that he did when he got there and the motivations behind why he was doing what he did were never resolved either. All that stuff about him and his dad and his issues with Charity were just kind thrown away because he’s oh so in love with Debbie now.

Meanwhile with Graham I like the actor and the character but I’ve wanted to see more natural development like they had him tell Debbie his story but this whole flashback would have worked better I feel like if it came from him talking about it with Megan. Instead we just saw him crashing around the village like a drunken idiot. And we’re supposed to feel for him and what he’s been through but it all just kind of fell flat for me especially the big show down with him and Joe. Like that should have been really emotional only it just felt like two guys screaming in each others faces. The show wasn’t allowing us to see any of how Graham was really feeling other than he was feeling guilty over his wife but not how he feels towards Joe. He didn’t seem to care he just beat the shit out of him and left. I thought he saw Joe as like a son but I don’t think the show has done enough to build up that relationship before dropping an episode like this on us.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

Also???? Court of Cats stuff? It doesn’t have to even be connected to Toby herself (altho I’d love to see the members of the court that like Toby, who have to exist SOMEWHERE) it can be just. The cats and the humans they adopt.

IDK, this is after Toby and Tybalt get together but before A Winter Long, I haven’t figured anything else out.  I was just charmed by the concept.

Toby is on an extremely unremarkable missing person’s case whenshe first notices the cats--really normal, as such things go.  The girl’sprobably fine, just run off with her boyfriend.  Everyone involved ishuman, as far as Toby can tell, which means that, well, everyone’shuman, and these days, that means this is fucking small potatoes.

Theboyfriend may bein a gang.  Toby’s pretty sure mortal guns, copper and lead, aren’t aproblem though, which is why she’s alone in her car.  Tybalt will complainif she gets shot, but she’ll be fine, and all she needs is a photo of the girl.

But that doesn’t matter.  What matters is the flicker ofpearly white Toby catches in the corner of her vision, as it hops up onto afence and disappears around a corner.

It’s the fourth such flicker that Toby’s seen in the three hoursshe’s been camped out on the curb--auburn, two black, and now white.  

“All right, that’s it,” Toby mutters, and doesn’t even bother tothrow a don’t-look-here over her human illusion as she hops out of the hiddencar.  The mask on the car is sturdy enough to keep her from getting towedor keyed while she’s gone.

Toby doesn’t bother to try and sneak around the corner. Instead, she strolls into the alley as open and casual as you please, hands inher coat pockets, and just positions herself, as if by accident, between thedead end and the exit, one shoulder propped lazily against the wall andeyebrows arched.

“So,” Toby says to the alley at large.  “Are you stillhere?”

For a moment, she thinksthat she’s talking to nothing but some blank brick and an empty dumpster.   Thenthere’s an audible sigh and a flare of magic, chamomile and asphalt, and a CaitSidhe rises out of the far corner with the insouciant expression of a cat caughtdoing something against the rules.  She’snot familiar—she must be the red cat Toby caught a glimpse of, with rumpledhair marbled pale and deep auburns—but she stuffs both hands into her jeans pocketsand grins at Toby, sharp teeth and shamelessness.

“Hey,” the woman says, as ifthey’ve just met going about their day.  “How’sit going?”

“Do I know you?”  It’s a rude way to open the conversation, butfrankly, it’s three in the afternoon and Toby doesn’t really have good mannersin her right now.  “Or your friends?”

“No,” the woman says, andoffers a hand tipped, still smiling.  “I’mRuby.  Nice to meet you properly, Sir Daye.”

“A pleasure,” Toby says,shaking the hand suspiciously.  “DidTybalt need something?  Is everythingokay?  Or is he really that sure that I’llget myself stabbed the moment he leaves me alone for more than an hour?”

“You can’t blame him,”another voice says—this one a young man, very young, closer to a boy, with lushwhite hair.  “I’m Jacob.  Hi.”

“I can sure as hell blame himfor spying on me,” Toby replies, but it lacks fire.  The kid looks exhausted, but cheerful, bouncingnervously on his toes.  “So, what can Ido for you?”

“Oh, nothing,” Ruby says.  “The King didn’t send us.  My brother-in-law did.”

Toby rubs both hands over herface and rakes them back through her hair. “I really don’t have time to deal with another coup, if you don’t mind,so--”

“Oh, ash, no,” Ruby laughs.  “My sister is Opal, I think you met her.  Sort of.” The humor drains out of her face all at once, so fast that it leaves Tobya little startled at the sudden change.  “Yousaved her life, and her last kitten,” Ruby says, pinning Toby with eyes such astartling shade of amber gold that they seem to glow like candle flames in thealley.  Toby feels them hit her as firmlyas any arrow, cutting as deep as any knife. “My sister.  You avenged her children.  We can never repay what you did for us.”

“Gabriel suggested that wekeep an eye on you,” Jacob says, solemn in the way that only the very young canmanage.  His eyes are blue and bright, a coldercolor than Quentin’s but wide and heavy-lashed, making him look very youngindeed.  “So we have been.”

Toby stares.  She barely manages to keep her jaw fromfalling slack.  Her blank confusion mustbe tattooed all over her face, because Ruby cracks a smile again and offers aflourishing bow.  

“Anywhere you go in ourterritory,” she says, straightening, and the smile is at odds with the formalityof her speech, “all you need do is call for help, Sir Daye.  The Court of Dreaming Cats will answer, if wecan.”

“And run and tell the King,”Jacob adds.  “This--” he gestures as ifto indicate their benevolent stalking “—wasn’t his idea.  But he did say that if you were in troubleand we didn’t tell him, he’d skin us alive. Letting his lady get murdered is untidy.”

Toby thinks she reallyshouldn’t be surprised—cats can be as loyal as any other animal, in their ownway—but she is.  She’s never heard of theCait Sidhe putting someone under their protection quite so thoroughly, but thenno one talks much about the Cait Sidhe and it’s entirely possible they haven’tin quite some time.  Maybe Samson gaveher a skewed idea of her standing in the Court of Cats, though, because Ruby isstaring at her with a stubborn set to her jaw, and Jacob looks as frankly preparedto disobey her as Tybalt ever has, and—

“Untidy,” Toby manages tochoke out, and then she’s laughing so hard she thinks she might crack arib.  “No, I’m fine,” she gasps, waving ahand at Ruby.  “I’m fine.”  Toby takes a few deep breaths and straightensup.  “So, what, your whole Court is justtrailing me around making sure I don’t get in too much trouble?”

“Not all of us,” Ruby says,and looks a little rueful for the first time. “I’m not going to say you’re, uh, universally popular, Sir Daye.  The ones who wanted the power Samson promisedthem, or the ones who think crossing bloodlines is a problem—they’re notthrilled with you.  But not all of us arelooking to depose the King, if you get me. Tybalt’s been King all my life, and he always did right by us.  And so did you, when you were up against thewall and could have left us to die. Anything we can do to keep you two alive and happy, we’re going to doour best.”

 Toby gets used to seeing cats—notalways Cait Sidhe, either, sometimes they seem to just be cats—dotting her path through the city like gargoyles.  They’re not everywhere, they’re not aconstant presence, and they seem almost coincidental, as if they just happen tobe there when she’s there, by nothing more than luck.  She thinks it should feel like she’s beingspied on, but they always wander off when they’ve seen she’s well, or return totheir naps, or carry on with whatever feline business the presence of theirKing’s consort happens to interrupt.  It feelsmore like having backup.

Sometimes she sees a marbled red cat who grins like a shameless girl and Toby gives her a mocking salute.

The first time Tybalt sees it, he laughs for a week.

[roadworthyrp]

► BOYD HAYLOCK; DEVIL’S CREW

“ i know you’re scared; we’re all scared, but that doesn’t mean were cowards. it only means you value your life. ”

AGE: 35

GENDER: CIS MALE

BIRTHPLACE: NEVADA

LOCATION: OUTSIDE OF CLEARMONT

POSITIVE TRAITS: OPTIMISTIC, CAUTIOUS, LOYAL, SKILLFUL, VERSATILE

NEGATIVE TRAITS: FEARFUL, CONFLICTED, RESENTFUL, SECRETIVE, WORRISOME

CURRENT MOTIVATION: To conceal his sexuality from the rest of the Devil’s Crew.

► THE PATCH:

RANK: Full patched member. His childhood best friend had tried out for the blood riders of Nevada during his senior year he’d barely earned his bottom rocker before he wound up being ran off the road and dying nearly three weeks later from his injuries. They were bike enthusiasts as far back Boyd could remember, always looking at them in magazines and fantasising about which ones they’d own one day. He should’ve taken it as a sign to not pursue his dream any further, yet Boyd gained hang around status with the Devil’s Crew before continuing down the path that had him made.

MEMBER SINCE:  Boyd began prospecting in 2003 at the age of twenty after hanging around with the club from the age of seventeen. He earned his full patch three years later. The club is a family to him, a family that he couldn’t be any more devoted to. But it is also a family he cannot be his entire self around. Boyd has suspected he was gay from the age of sixteen, though he wasn’t completely certain until almost five years later. Though not explicitly stated in their rules, Boyd is fearful that his orientation may see him run out of the club and has been concealing it ever since. It wasn’t always this hard, but the older he gets the more Boyd is aware that his desire to keep his friends close may force him to be alone forever.

ORIGINAL CHARTER: Wexton, Nevada

CURRENT CHARTER: Wexton, Nevada

STANCE ON THE WOLVES: Opposed. Boyd is almost certain that the Wolves have something to do with Nero’s death and hates the idea of having to coexist along side them.

► CONNECTIONS;

LUCAS DE MATTEO: Luca is far better suited for leadership than he’s been given credit for in Boyd’s eyes. Matheus is a good man, but his pacifist ways to not belong in a club built on blood. They’re drug runners, not camp counsellors. The Wolves have not forgotten who they are and if the Devil’s wish to continue, they should not either. Luca may be struggling, but he knows how to bring down the hammer. In a hypothetical world of peace, perhaps Matheus would be suited for the presidency, but that is not the world they live in. Luca knows the price of their lifestyle and has the grit to pay it and for that, he will continue to recieve Boyd’s support.

CAMILA DE LA CRUZ: Camila is a dear friend and the two have never been on the opposite side of a problem before now. She believes Luca to be ineffective, that his complacency with the Wolves got their President killed and yet supports Matheus who wants to bridge the divide further. He doesn’t understand her which has bred some conflict between the two. As a woman her patch is tentative, he hopes she learns to keep her distaste better concealed before she’s stripped of what she worked for.

LEO MARTIN: Leo is observant. Far too observant for Boyd’s taste. After years of his sexuality flying under the radar, he can’t help but feel Leo knows more than he says. If he knows, Boyd must decide if that makes him friend of foe and knows a miscalculation could see him outed from the comfort he’s built.

► RECOMMENDED FC’s:  

TREVANTE RHODES

SINQUA WALLS

KENDRICK SAMSON

RICKY WHITTLE

► FC: UTP (MUST BE A POC)

[mst3kproject]

Hollywood After Dark

           I remember discovering The Film Crew as a moment of unexpected joy. It was as if the lady from Overdrawn at the Memory Bank descended from heaven in her seashell with four bonus episodes for me!  It's lacking something without the silhouettes, I admit, and actually seeing Kevin and Bill weirdly makes my brain want to attribute the voices to Bobo and Brain Guy rather than to Tom and Crow.  Nevertheless, it was a mouthful of water to a thirsty explorer – not enough to satisfy, but nothing I was going to turn down!  I still like The Film Crew episodes, too.  Rifftrax is fine, but The Film Crew feels truer to the spirit of MST3K, which is why I consider all four of their movies essential content for this blog.

           This movie, on the other hand, contains absolutely no joy whatsoever. It seems to exist in a universe where joy is forbidden.  There’s this guy named Tony who I think owns a junkyard, and a couple of mobsters hire him to transport some stolen money for them.  He goes to a burlesque club to iron out the details with them, and there he pretends to be in charge of the place in order to crush the hopes and dreams of Sandy, a dancer who likes to consider herself an artist of some sort. She inexplicably agrees to go out with him, and I guess the two of them fall in love since after the heist is done they plan to run away together.  One of the two mobsters murders the other and then stabs Tony, who staggers back to his motel to die in Sandy’s arms.  The other mobster crashes his car and the police just stand there and watch the wreckage burn.

           The title Hollywood After Dark makes it sound like this film will be some kind of juicy expose, full of Hollywood darlings behaving badly.  Unsurprisingly, it’s not the movie’s official title – that, as you will find if you consult IMDB, is Walk the Angry Beach.  In doing this blog I’ve found several instances where the alternate title was way better than the original, but this is not one of them.  Walk the Angry Beach sounds like exactly what this movie actually turns out to be: bleak, nihilistic, ugly, and never making a lot of sense.

           In a way, I guess, saying that is actually giving the film a compliment, because Hollywood After Dark is a tale of shattered dreams.  The mobsters dreamed of stealing a fortune – they both end up dead.  Tony dreamed of leaving the lousy junkyard and starting a new life with Sandy – he dies, too.  Sandy dreams of getting out of the burlesque and becoming a movie star, never having to bare her breasts or sleep with a sleazy producer again.  She doesn’t die, but her best chance for a better life was Tony and his stolen money, and at the end she has lost both. The story seems to be telling us that it doesn’t matter what you want or how you go about trying to get it, all you can realistically hope for is to claw your way along until death finally overtakes you.

           As suits this theme, everything in the movie is relentlessly bleak and depressing. People hang out on a beach that is entirely empty except for characters who have to do something in a scene. Literally the only beachgoers we see besides Tony, Sandy, and the mobsters are one little girl and a couple making out, all of whom exist only to briefly interact with Tony.  Besides that, we see nothing but empty sand.  Offices and homes are dimly-lit and grimy-looking, unattractive and unwelcoming spaces.  The lighting is absolutely merciless.  Daytime scenes are under ferocious California sunlight, night ones under spot illumination that is equally glaring and ugly.  I wish any of this were intentional, but it’s not – as far as I can tell, the harsh lighting is just because that’s all they could manage.  We get empty beaches are because they spent all their budget for extras on the serial-killer-looking guys in the burlesque audience.

           Anthony Vorno as Tony and Rue McClanahan as Sandy always sound like they’re just a couple of words away from bursting into tears.  Again, this could be appropriate for their characters but they’re so badly-written that you can’t get into it.  The decisions Tony and Sandy make do not make sense.  When Sandy staggers drunkenly out of the producer’s apartment, Tony does not go to walk her home or otherwise protect her – he hangs around to ambush and attack the producer, in an absolutely terrible fight scene in which you can almost always see the cameraman’s shadow on one of the actor’s shirts!  So he’s just gonna let her walk home alone and drugged in the middle of the night?

           Later, Sandy tells Tony she doesn’t want stolen money and prefers to stay in Los Angeles making a living by herself, even if that means working at the burlesque.  She seems to change her mind when he tells her that he will stay with her instead, but when he goes out again she offers to pack.  Does that mean they’re leaving after all?  She already said she doesn’t want to do that!  Does she now think they’re following his plan while he thinks they’re following hers?  That sounds like it’s setting up a wacky misunderstanding, but Tony dies before we can follow through on it.

           What the hell do these two people even see in one another?  Tony and Sandy both seem to feel like they’re stuck in a hole they can’t get out of.  Meeting each other just seems to give them somebody else to be depressed with.  The first thing Tony says to her is a speech about how dreams are destined to be crushed!  There is no spark between them, no sign that they bring out anything in each other, not a hint that the relationship has given either of them renewed hope!  The only thing they derive any hope from is the stolen money, which turns out to be Tony’s ruin.

           Why do the mobsters hire Tony at all?  We’re told something about one of them scoping him out by having some car repairs done, but how would that lead them to conclude that he’s a good man to transport stolen cash?  To get him to work for him, they threaten his family… but Tony doesn’t have a family as far as we can tell.  What the hell is the significance of the guy who buys the water pump?  He turns up like he’s going to be somehow important but he just recites poetry, buys a part, and leaves.  The credits just call him The Shakespearean.

           Since Sandy works at a burlesque, we are of course treated to several scenes of women dancing.  These are punishingly long and filmed so leeringly that I feel like I need a shower after watching them.  The first one features a woman in a zebra-print bikini bottom, with feathers on her nipples, and it wears out its welcome several times over.  Remember when I said in Horrors of Spider Island that after a while even jiggling butts get boring?  That goes tenfold for Hollywood After Dark.  It’s like the strip equivalent of the wrestling in Samson vs the Vampire Women in that you don’t care and it never ends.  That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, even the strip show in this movie is fucking depressing.

           When you try to actually think about the movie, it gets even worse.  Of the three women we see perform in the burlesque, only Sandy gets offstage screen time.  The other two are mere filler.  Sandy is also the only one whose boobs we never get a good look at.  The other two women wave theirs around with abandon, but Sandy dances with a top on, with her back to the camera, or with her breasts in deep shadow.  It’s implied that the audience in the club gets to see, but the audience in the theatre does not.  I’m pretty sure this is a deliberate statement on the part of the director, because Sandy has higher ambitions and should not be thus degraded.  We never find out what the other two dancers think of their jobs, but they have smiles on their faces rather than collapsing in tears at the end like Sandy does, so I guess we can degrade them as much as we like.  Ew.

           In case that wasn’t gross enough, the first of the two anonymous dancers is black and the second is Asian.  Roger Ebert used to call this the National Geographic Loophole, in which non-white boobs are considered PG while white ones are R.

           Of course there’s also the scene in which Sandy is invited to meet a producer, and it becomes transparently obvious that he just wants sex and he drugs her in order to get it.  We don’t see that, either, just Tony waiting stalkerishly outside to attack the producer after Sandy leaves.  Again, I think the idea was to avoid degrading Sandy, whom we’re supposed to see as a person tragically mistreated by an uncaring world, rather than a sex object. It’s so poorly executed, however, that I don’t even want to give them points for trying.  If you’re going to tell us that women are human beings who don’t deserve to be regarded as over-talkative sex toys, you can’t pick and choose which women that applies to.  You only make yourself look like a hypocrite, and when you do it the way Hollywood After Dark does, you’re a racist hypocrite to boot.

           This is honestly one of the top ten most depressing movies I’ve ever watched, right up there with the works of Coleman Francis.  There is nothing in it that makes you smile, or that even tries to make you smile – it’s so relentlessly dismal that it feels three hours long, even though it’s only seventy-five minutes. If it had been the first Film Crew episode I’d seen, I probably wouldn’t have bothered with the other three.  Fortunately, it was the last, so I’d already gotten some genuine MST3K-style joy out of things like Killers from Space and The Wild Women of Wongo.  Instead of a series-killer, it was therefore only a real downer ending.

[queen-parasoul]

Burnout

Summary: All Samson had wanted was to jump on a motorcycle, ride out into the middle of nowhere, and have a life of his own. But like everything with the Medicis, things could never be so simple.

Characters: Samson, Filia, Vitale

Genre: Family/friendship

Author’s Note: This is a fully human AU with no supernatural elements like the Skull Heart.

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

There were names for this place on a roadmap. For good reason, “No Man’s Land” was the one that stuck.

A line through a tan blotch on a map did little justice to the scope of the warm arid expanse. Dust and sparse vegetation spread for miles, split by a seemingly endless road. Any rise in elevation rested along mountain ranges barely visible in the shade of night. During the day, the heat could be unbearable, but on nights like tonight the air was pleasantly cool, the sky above cut by the moon and hundreds of stars.

Contrary to popular belief, there were a few dots of civilization around this wasteland. The largest was a modest town, though quiet at this hour. The loudest signs of life came from its outskirts, a dive bar just off the road, parking lot lined with cars and motorcycles illuminated by streetlamps light.

Only people with simple needs or without a future would live out here, and on a Saturday night, this place was full of them. Muffled music played within the walls, briefly leaking out as the front door squeaked open and a brick wall of a man skulked outside.

He looked half like a greaser, in a leather jacket along with a white tank top, jeans and boots. His black hair, styled into a pompadour, led into sideburns then a short scruffy beard, all framing a strong tired face. Before the door slammed shut, he gave a short wave behind him to the patrons inside casting friendly insults and wishing him a good night.

Sober enough to drive, fatigued enough to sleep as soon as he got home. An uneventful end to a Saturday, but a good one in his book.

Walking up to a motorcycle parked in the front lot, he dug through his pockets for his keys when a meek voice addressed him.

“Um, excuse me?”

He looked over his shoulder to find a teenage girl approaching. People around here could be clean-cut, but she stood out, wearing a fresh-pressed button-up blouse and a pleated skirt with a headband pushing back her long blonde hair. He couldn’t help but eye the purse over her shoulder, a designer brand if he wasn’t mistaken. Her face was full of nervous curiosity as she craned her neck a little to look him in the eye.

“Are you Samson?” She asked.

“Who wants to know?”

“…Me?”

That should have sounded like an insult, but her tone showed no indication. He had nowhere pressing to be, so he humored her.

“Yeah, I’m Samson.”

She sighed in relief. “Oh, thank goodness! I thought I’d never find you.”

“You’ve been looking for me?”

“Well yeah, you’re the reason I’m here, after all.”

“Really.” He’d never been called out so politely in a parking lot before. “What for?”

“Well, I thought you’d be at your house, but no one answered, so I came here.”

So she knew where he lived, and when no one was home her first instinct was to check the only bar in town. Either she knew him or just knew what to expect from people who lived around here.

“I get why you’re here, but why were you looking for me in the first place?”

“Well, where else am I supposed to-” She suddenly frowned, “Wait…do you recognize me?”

“Nope.”

Her eyes threatened to mist over, and he didn’t want to stick around for the misplaced waterworks.

“Look, you got the wrong guy.” He started to walk away. “Do yourself a favor and go somewhere worth being.”

Her voice suddenly spiked in frustration. “Samson, it’s me! Filia!”

He froze. Now there was a name.

Memories came rushing back, and as he looked her over again, her features started to fade into familiarity. While her light hair was her mother’s, the dark hue of her eyes was unfortunately like his. The voice was familiar too, if half a pitch lower. The polite demeanor had thrown him off, but if he pictured her a little shorter, with a smug look on her face…

“No way.” He muttered. “Filia?”

The next second, her arms were wrapped around him. “You do remember me!”

He glanced around the parking lot, making sure no one was witness to this awkward encounter then slowly pushed her an arm’s length away. She seemed completely oblivious to his discomfort, smiling ear to ear.

“I can’t believe you got so tall.” She marveled. “And you grew a beard!”

“Yeah, you, uh…you got pretty tall too.” He mustered in reply, still bewildered.

“It’s so good to see you again. I had heard you left the city, but I had no idea you were all the way out here!”

“Well, I wanted a change of pace from New Meridian, and this is where I ended up.” He refocused on the matter at hand. “But never mind that, what are you doing here?”

“Didn’t my Dad tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

They both fell quiet as he waited for an answer. His gaze on her narrowed, and she smiled nervously, searching for the gentlest explanation. Just when he started to feel the rush of an incoming bombshell, she finally spoke up.

“So…” She tapped her fingers together, “Funny story.”

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

“Put him on the phone, Vitale.”

“He’s not here.”

“Like Hell he’s not there!”

Samson banged against the wall of an aged phone booth that stood at the edge of the lot, its interior lit by a single flickering lightbulb. It was functional, but the scratched glass struggled to contain both his wild gestures and shouts into the receiver.

“You gotta be kidding me! I haven’t seen him in five years, and he sends me his kid?! He could’ve given me a heads-up at least!”

“You didn’t leave a phone number, Samson.”

He wasn’t about to admit Vitale was right. “Well you still managed to figure out where I was.”

“Marcus already knows where you live. Apparently, he had your address.”

“Yeah, I sent it to him a while ago in case he found any important stuff I missed when I was packing. Guess I forgot to send it to you too.”

Vitale’s voice twitched in annoyance. “How…thoughtful. And yet you didn’t think to send a new phone number?”

“Not important.” Samson diverted. “I don’t even know how you got her out here. I’m surprised she didn’t get kidnapped.”

He glanced over his shoulder. Thankfully, she was still sitting on the curb, patiently sipping a bottle of water.

“We did our best,” Vitale responded, “And she’s a little more capable than she looks. That said, hopefully she’ll be safer in your care.”

“And what am I supposed to do with her, huh? I don’t have any room for her at my place, and I don’t have time to babysit either.”

“She’s sixteen.”

He threw his hands in the air. “Whatever! I haven’t seen her since she was what, ten? I didn’t even recognize her at first, since she’s so…nice. Did she hit her head or somethin’?”

“She grew out of her bad habits, Samson. Most people do that, unlike you.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you even convince Marcus to do this?”

“It was his idea. And it’s more like he wouldn’t be doing this if we had any other choice. Not to mention you owe us after all the trouble you caused before you ran off on us, and after that for that matter. Your departure and little spats with Leviathan came up when we were trying to make peace with the Contiellos, and it did not make us look good.”

“Yeah, well-” He paused and leaned against the phone booth wall. “Wait, what happened with the Contiellos?”

“That’s…not important. The point is, Filia’s there now and she needs somewhere to stay. You don’t even have to bring her home. Once everything has calmed down, I’ll send Cassandra to come pick her up.”

“Oh yeah, Bella!” He snapped his fingers. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s…fine.”

“Good to hear. I guess you’ve been keeping her busy as your little errand girl.”

Samson heard a satisfying sigh from the other side of the line.

“I understand this is inconvenient,” Vitale admitted, “But Filia isn’t safe here right now.”

“Why not?”

“She just isn’t. That’s why Marcus is trusting you with this. Like it or not, he’s doing what’s best for his child.”

“And what would you know about that?”

The air held still on both ends of the line. Samson wasn’t keen on opening old wounds, but Vitale brought out the worst in him. He decided to bite his tongue, and only act defensively, and luckily when Vitale spoke, he chose to resist too.

“Alright, just…listen. You don’t like this. Neither do I or your grandfather or even Marcus and Amelia. But you’re the only one of us who’s left New Meridian, and if anyone still thinks you’re part of the family, they don’t know where you are. You aren’t in danger so long as you’re out there and neither is she. Trust me just this once when I say we have no other option.”

Samson leaned an arm against the glass and stared out at Filia. The longer he did, the clearer his dusty memories became.

“She’s family, Samson. Surely that still means something to you.”

He ran every grating scene of his old home through his head. Every passive-aggressive jab, every pinch of pressure to be someone different, every tireless complaint from every branch of his family tree.

“Fine.” He relented. “But no guarantee she won’t be a heavy drinker by the time she gets back.”

“I guess that’s as much as I can ask for.”

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

Filia had just finished her water bottle when Samson returned, an exasperated look still plastered to his face.

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah.” It wasn’t, but he rummaged through his motorcycle’s side bag and tossed her his helmet anyway. “We’re gonna head back to my place. You ever ridden one of these before?”

“Nope.”

Of course she hadn’t. With Vitale’s iron fist, it was a miracle he had even touched one when he was sixteen. “Just get on and don’t let go of me once we get going.”

She took a seat sidesaddle on the bike while he started throwing her belongings into the side bag, surprised by how little she had brought for someone living the high life. Knowing the family, he assumed they had just thrown her a few weeks’ allowance instead to save space. (Still more than Samson’s rent, he also assumed.)

“My place is no Medici Tower, but it’s decent.” He continued. “You’re gonna have to sleep on the couch though.”

“That’s okay, I don’t mind. Do you live alone?”

“No, I got a roommate and a dog.”

“Oh…okay.”

And of course she didn’t like dogs. She called them “slobber factories” back in the day, and no matter how different she was now, he could tell that hadn’t changed.

“Well, at least you’ll like my roommate. She’ll be around tomorrow, maybe she can help you get settled in.”

Filia’s eyes twinkled. “‘She’?”

The implication flew high over his head. “Yeah, a friend of mine. We ran into each other a few years back.”

“What’s she like?”

“She’s…nice.”

‘Nice’.  As if she wasn’t going to laugh herself to death when he explained this in the morning. But she wouldn’t be his best friend if she couldn’t be as much of an ass as he was.

Shooing her further back on the seat, he took his place in front and turned the keys in the ignition. The rumble of the engine brought some ease to his anxiety. He couldn’t even begin to think about this whole mess in the long-term. What he needed was a short ride and a good night’s sleep. He’d figure out where to fit her into his life tomorrow.

His mind couldn’t help but wander back to New Meridian. Just from Vitale, he could tell things weren’t perfect with the family. They took a real risk sending Filia out here even if Marcus did trust Samson more than anyone else in the family did.

As much as he tried not to be, he was worried. Vitale, Lorenzo, and all their goons could take a long walk off a short pier for all he cared, but Marcus and Amelia were good people. Not to mention Cerebella – sorry, Cassandra, a fine name even if Vitale acted like he owned it – was still under Vitale’s thumb, probably promoted from doing chores to dirty work that, worst case scenario, could get her hurt.

Funny how Vitale cared more about the precious heiress than he did his own kids. Samson hoped to high heaven it would come back to bite him in the ass.

For the first time in years, a malicious spark lit up in Samson’s eyes.

Maybe there was a silver lining here, more than just another friendly face and at least one housemate who wouldn’t steal his leftovers. There were ways to twist this in his favor, a little more compensation or one final jab for old times’ sake. He’d have to be careful to keep the innocent out of his line of fire, but if he aimed for the right targets….

He had given up on that life a long time ago, and he’d sworn that all the money in the world couldn’t drag him back into it. Even so, that didn’t stop a devious smile from emerging on his face.

He was still a Medici after all, right? And all that was left of that legacy for him now was the spite in his blood.

“Samson?”

He snapped out of his thoughts. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for letting me stay with you. I know it’s pretty sudden and everything.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“And…I was pretty young when you left, and I know we weren’t the closest,” She hugged Samson so genuinely that he could feel his skin crawl, “But it’s nice to see you again.”

He took a deep strained breath then slowly exhaled. “Damn you, Vitale.”

“Hm?”

“Nothin’.”

He revved the engine and sped off with his cousin into the night, praying to whatever higher power that was listening that there was still booze at home.