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rebeccalouisaferguson · 10 months ago

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Please note: There are major spoilers for both “Silo” and the “Dune” series in this interview.

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The Playlist: Congratulations on all the great projects released over the past year. After working on “Mission: Impossible” movies and “Dune” movies, is it hard to show up and have a production set actually impress you?

Rebecca Ferguson: [Laughs.] Yeah.

Did “Silo” impress you?

Yes, but there are two different things. There’s a scale of a set. When you��re, for example, with “Mission,” there’s nothing impressive over the sets because the sets are nature. So, it’s more the fact that you get to act in the environment and Tom’s doing a helicopter stunt. Like, the action is impressive. It’s not the sets and it’s not the environment in that sense because it’s natural, right? It’s beautiful. With “Silo,” the scope and scale of the sets, they’re so huge. And the fact that we actually have the staircase, then you can run maybe two, or three floors. And the visual effects guys, Paul Bongiovanni and Daniel Rauchwerger, and the team, knowing what they create, the collaboration with the set design and the visual effects is phenomenal. It’s absolutely phenomenal. I might have stolen a couple of props from the set, but I also steal by saying, “By the way, I’ve put a couple of props in my bag. You have one minute to take them back.” And if not, they are mine. Because they’re so beautiful. I have so many pictures of things on set. I just walk around.

I love how you give them one minute because that’s not enough time to really think about it.

One minute, that’s all they get.

When the project came to you, had you heard about the book? What was your reaction to it?

Nope. So when “Silo” came, I was given the first six episodes, and I read them, and I really liked it, but there was a little thing I [needed] changed. I got stuck in something. So I was like, “No, this is not the project for me.” So, I’m only telling this story [because] I’ve heard Graham Yost tell it. I would never have told a story that I’ve turned something down that I’m doing. But there was something that I didn’t really grasp in one of the episodes, and it was too big. It was a bit of an issue. And then they came back, and they were like, “Well, what is this issue?”And I was like, “Well, this is the issue.”And they were like, “O.K.” And then they came back, and they had addressed the issue, and I was like, “Oh, huh, interesting.” And then, when they did that, I thought, “Oh, I’m more interested in this.” And then I started the books, and then I was like, “Oh, I’m actually really into this world, but what else?” And then Graham was like, “What if you can become an [Executive Producer] and learn the process of making it and actually have insight into making a TV show?” And I was like, “Next to you, the best producer showrunner, “I mean, and that’s kind of how it came to life. And then I read all of the books and I was deep in it.

But when they sent you the first six episodes, had they told you what the ending of the first season was? I mean, because it’s seemingly very faithful to the book.

No, I think, and I might be lying, but I’m going to go with it. I read the first six episodes and I was caught on the journey up until the moment when I was like, “This isn’t great. This isn’t very good.” And then kind the other episode had to kind of correct itself and it was just a bit of distraction. So. I wasn’t that intrigued when that happened. But then, the second time, it really opened up my interest, and that’s why I was like, “What happens?” I mean, when you start going, “What happens after six? Do you have seven? Do you have eight? What’s going on here?” That’s a good sign.

I have a lot of questions about Juliette, especially the final episode. There’s a great scene where she is shown the video before George’s death. And he sort of sends her a message by looking at the video camera. He knows where the video camera is, and Juliette has a very emotional moment in that scene. Did you get to see the actual footage of him for that, or were you just looking at a green screen and imagining?

I asked for that to play, so I wanted to act against Ferdinand Kingsley‘s scene. So no, no, that was me in the room, and on all of these displays, they put it up. So, I actually saw what I would’ve been looking at.

For many people in Juliette’s situation, that moment might have crushed them, made them not want to keep fighting, and made them want to maybe just sort of accept their fate. But when she gets sentenced to go clean, she seems so confident. She seems so reassured. Which by the way, even if the world out there was all green, it’s still hard, who knows how you’re going to survive? Why do you think she still has that confidence?

I don’t. That is not how I saw it. For me, there’s a moment I think, in people’s lives where enough is enough and there’s a moment where there’s a form of surrender. And when she says, “I’m not afraid,” I think she has never been more afraid. I think that’s how I felt it. I felt “I am afraid. I’m so terrified. But it’s a broken system that I can’t solve here, and this is the next step for me. I agree this is what’s going to happen. I can’t fight this.” So, it’s like nearly a person who’s going to have given up, but you never give up. There’s a little tiny bit of hope, there might be a possibility of surviving. There’s so much in it. It’s not just, “I’m ready, bring it.” She’s petrified.

Do you also feel she’s petrified when she sees what the world actually looks like?

I think at that moment, it’s what everyone feels their own intuitive emotion towards it. But I think for me, in life, we’re telling a story. So we want to tell the grandiosity of what she sees and the impact. Well, when walking over taking those extra steps. But to be honest, I think for her, the fact that she’s taking one step after the other is an achievement and a realization, and it’s a gradual incline of safety. And then boom, there’s new information. That’s the whole journey with Juliette. It’s like a problem-solving, problem-solving, problem. That’s the entire world of “Silo” and the change of character throughout. She starts off as quite selfish. She wants to solve some issues around her own feelings, but that opens up a bigger can of worms. “Oh, there are bigger lies. There are bigger things. Wait, what is the truth? Oh, this is not just about me. I want to give up.” Walker says, “It’s not just about giving up.” “Oh s**t, yeah, this is bigger. Maybe I need to care. Maybe it’s not just about fixing machinery because machinery needs to work, but it needs to actually give life to people. Oh, there’s a symbiosis going on here.” All of this is a gradual incline for Juliette’s character to where we end and where we get to in season two.

At that moment though, at the end, she’s up on the edge of the hill, and she turns around. She’s already discovered that it really is a wasteland out there. She doesn’t jump up and down. She doesn’t do a death sign. She doesn’t do anything to communicate back to the people still in the silo. Did you ask Graham? Did you ask the directors why they didn’t want that? Why do you think she doesn’t try to communicate something to them?

I think she doesn’t because she’s in a new space. I think when you are still absolutely petrified, there is no jumping up and my suit can fucking shred. This is all I have. You are still careful. You are observing. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I mean, what are they going to do? I’m going to jump up and down and they’re going to go, “Oh, come on back in.”? It’s clearly not a system that wants her inside, not to give away too much. So what is she going to do? Save herself by going, “It’s all good.” [Laughs.] Maybe. Look, I’ve walked this far. It’s kind of, there’s not much more to do. It’s more the connection of, “O.K., there you are. I don’t know what I’m looking at, but I’m going to focus. What the f**k is this? Oh, this is out of mind. What the f**k is happening in front of me?”

I don’t know how much you’re on social media in terms of seeing how people react to projects you are a part of, but there is a super passionate fan base for this show, and we were super excited about it. Have you gotten any feedback about that?

I know that a lot of people like it because I know that people are watching it. So, I get digits and numbers, not too much because digits and numbers are important to keep secret, but I know that people love it. And I do see pictures of people from Comic Cons dressed up as Juliette, and I love all of that. But no, I’m terrified of going out on those things because I’m scared I have failed something. Or they’ll ask questions that I’m not intelligent enough to answer.

I don’t want you to give any spoilers, but you had just mentioned when you initially got the scripts for season one you thought changes were needed. Were you pleasantly surprised when the season two scripts arrived?

Yeah. I was like, “I what? And this happens. How are we going to shoot this? Oh my God, does Apple know how much this is going to cost them?” [Laughs.]

One last thing about season two. I know you shot before the strike happened and then you had to go back and finish up afterward, right? Was that a tough transition?

To be honest, it’s like when COVID happened, people were like, “Was it hard for you?” And I think, “No, no, it’s hard for people who actually died and people who had people [who died].” For me, we had to stop because the cause was for a reason. It was for writers, and it was for actors, and things needed to be solved. The fact is, I’m one of the luckiest fortunate ones who can still live during a strike and also take care of the people around me who need help. There was no complaining. I mean, emotionally, did I have to pause a little bit? I mean, yeah, so what, do you know what I mean? We run with it and are grateful for it. But I think what was tricky was…hmmm…so, season two, season two might be filmed in two different locations. We might, right? I’m not going to go into it because I wouldn’t, which means that we could shoot a lot of people out who were in one location. So, the only things left to shoot were me and whatever my world entailed, which meant I was in every scene for the next three months with no break and no one having a scene in between. And I’ve never done that. So, that was tricky. I was from morning to evening, every scene. Every day.

Exhausting.

It was challenging but also fun because you were really in it.

Before I let you go, your “Dune” director, Mr. Villeneuve, after doing so many interviews, said, “I don’t know if I’ll do a third movie. Maybe I’ll do a third movie,” well, now, it’s sort of been revealed he’s writing the third movie, and it will clearly happen. When you were on set, were there any hints there about a third chapter? Did you guys conjecture anything about what the third movie might entail?

I just manipulate. I manipulate I just, whenever I can. Y’know those Coca-Cola commercials, back in the day when they just went Coca-Cola, big pictures, and “Fight Club”? That’s me with Denis. I just whispered little weird things in his ears that I wanted to do. He was like, “Oh, stop it.” Oh, to be honest, it’s completely out of my hands. He has clearly made a spectacular world…

Absolutely, 100%.

And it is banking and people are loving it, and it has the most phenomenal cast in it. Of course, there would be a third one, but it’s a lot of pressure on Denis. It’s a lot of pressure to continue. And when do you make the creative decision? Do you go when it is at the best, or do you make one that could fail and not be as good? It’s a really tricky conversation. It depends on the script; it depends on the money. It depends on all of the actors that have not got a deal for the third film. That’s a lot going on there. So there’s a lot to take into consideration before just writing a third script, you know?

Well, I do think people are excited about it because that third novel is so different, and he’ll have to go in some interesting directions to tie it into maybe the other two.

I mean, I haven’t read it, so I literally dunno. So what happens? Go on.

Oh, I don’t know if we have time to go into all the details. [Laughs.] But, it has been hinted that your character’s son may not be the Messiah that they think he is.

Oh, yeah. I know.

You know that part.

I mean, come on. Clearly, we’re not going to be that close to the book. That’s ridiculous. Although I would love to see Timothee turn into a worm. As long as my character doesn’t go and sit [somewhere] hot and covered in fabrics, I’m happy.

Oh, was it super hot shooting the second film?

No, no, no. But I think in the book she goes away and disappears for a bit and sits. Y’know, she’s Reverend Mothering underneath all of it. [Laughs.]

I can’t imagine she isn’t around more than that. Something tells me that the themes of the first two movies suggest to me at least that she’d be part of it.

I hope so; I mean, I’ll be a teapot.

#interview #rebecca ferguson #silo interview #dune interview #juliette nichols #lady jessica #dune #dune messiah

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thelanternsglow · 2 months ago

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The 12 days of Christmas, the song and its meanings

What’s the Deal with The 12 Days of Christmas Song?

The “12 Days of Christmas” might sound like a fun, silly song about a bunch of random gifts, but there’s actually more to it than meets the eye. It’s a Christmas classic that’s been around for ages, and while it might seem a bit mad at first, there’s some interesting history behind it!

Where Did It Come From?

The song first popped up in England back in 1780 (though it probably existed as a folk song even earlier). Originally, it was more of a game where people had to remember all the gifts listed in the song, adding a new one with each verse. If they messed up, they’d have to forfeit something. It’s like a memory challenge that turned into a proper carol. The tune is catchy, so it stuck around and got passed down over the years until it became a Christmas favourite we know today.

What’s All That Stuff About?

Now, let’s break down the gifts, because there’s definitely more to them than just random nonsense:

1. A Partridge in a Pear Tree: The partridge is a bit of a symbol in Christianity, thought to represent Jesus, and the pear tree could be a nod to the tree of life. Nice start, eh?

2. Two Turtle Doves: Doves are all about love and peace. They could represent the love between the giver and the receiver or the Holy Spirit in Christian tradition.

3. Three French Hens: French hens were a bit fancy in the old days, so these might represent something more valuable, like the three theological virtues—faith, hope, and love.

4. Four Calling Birds: These were originally “colly birds,” which were just blackbirds. They could represent the four Evangelists—Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—who spread the message of Christ.

5. Five Gold Rings: Pretty self-explanatory. Gold rings are a symbol of something precious, but they might also represent the five books of the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible).

6. Six Geese a-Laying: Geese are symbols of fertility and abundance, so these could be a nod to the six days of creation from the Book of Genesis.

7. Seven Swans a-Swimming: Swans are pure and graceful, so these might symbolize the seven sacraments in Christianity, or possibly the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit.

8. Eight Maids a-Milking: Milkmaids? Yes, that’s right. This could represent the eight Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount (you know, those blessings Jesus gives in Matthew 5).

9. Nine Ladies Dancing: These could represent the nine fruits of the Spirit (like joy, peace, patience, etc.) from Galatians 5:22-23. All the good stuff you want to embody, basically.

10. Ten Lords a-Leaping: This could be a reference to the Ten Commandments or the ten lepers that Jesus healed in the New Testament.

11. Eleven Pipers Piping: The eleven pipers could symbolise the eleven apostles who stuck by Jesus after Judas betrayed him.

12. Twelve Drummers Drumming: The grand finale! The twelve drummers are thought to represent the twelve Apostles, or even the twelve points of doctrine in the Apostles’ Creed, which is a key statement of faith in Christianity.

Why 12 Days?

The song represents the 12 Days of Christmas (which start on Christmas Day and go all the way until Epiphany on January 6th). Traditionally, these days were a time of feasting, celebration, and reflection on the birth of Christ. Each day has its own significance, so the gifts in the song could be a way of symbolising key aspects of the Christian faith, from Christ’s birth to the visit of the Three Wise Men.

In some versions of the song, it’s thought to be a bit of a coded message, especially for Catholics in times when their faith wasn’t always freely practiced. The gifts might represent hidden meanings to help them keep their traditions alive.

In Conclusion

So, whether you’re singing it for fun at Christmas parties or you’re into deeper meanings, the “12 Days of Christmas” is more than just a catchy tune. It’s a quirky reminder of the season and might even carry some hidden messages about faith and love. One thing’s for sure: it’s a song that’s stuck around for centuries, and it’s probably not going anywhere anytime soon.

#yuletide #paganism #christmas #witchcraft #yule #winter solstice #12 days of christmas #and a partridge in a pear tree

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daemonsrhaenyras · 3 years ago

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Umm hi so like 2 months ago ig I found the 100 and I just finished season 5. And I'm already the kind of person who just goes looking for spoilers so yah I kinda know the fucked up shit that's about to happen. Anyways I just wanna know what the hell happened and I know there's never a proper reason but like with supernatural or any other controversial shows at least there are some reasons uk the writer is sexist, racist etc some sort of explanation to the fucked up shit we just saw before our eyes, but everything with the 100 is so silent I'm mostly a Instagram person n tbh the 100 fandom on Instagram is kind of dead... I really don't understand the show was great frustrating n maybe even a few downer of a seasons but lyk wtf happened did the writers change also lyk at the end of season 5 I think it was written "end of book one" or something so was tht supposed to be the end n d networked forced them to do more season which maybe why they wrote the latter seasons so bad..... Godddd I just want an explanation 😂. It will be really helpful if u could answer literally anything honestly u don't have to respond either u could just totally ignore trust me I have no idea why this is bothering me either but yah..

Disclaimer: While I am a notorious multishipper, I do love Bellamy/Clarke above all others in this show, so that probably colors a lot of my interpretations of events. Additionally, because you did mention that you've looked up spoilers, I am not going to be avoiding them, so be warned.

I mean, most of what the fandom has puzzled together is from random comments or conjecture, none of the cast has outright said anything specifically about season 7 (that has been widely spread, to my knowledge anyway).

In my opinion, season 6 was really freaking great. A breath of fresh air after the grim middle seasons, in fact. Which I think made the absolute let down of season 7 even worse.

Most of 'what went wrong' is usually laid at the feet of Jason Rothenberg, the developer and head executive producer. Basically, the guy seems to be kind of a major dick.

Season 6 was meant to act as a sort of reset of the series (which was why S5 ended with the 'end of book 1' thing--and yes there was a big writer change up for seasons six and seven because of the heavy space/sci-fi aspect of it all), and in my opinion, it worked fairly well. (Yes, some areas of the plot seemed to be recycled from earlier storylines, but I didn't see it as a bad thing, more as a chance for the characters to grow from their previous actions.)

But, then a lot seemed to be happening off screen around the airing of S6 and the filming of S7 that soured things between him and some of the cast members and the fandom. (I am only bringing up what I remember as being relevant to the question of 'why season seven was the way that it was' not an entire laundry list of all behind the scenes drama someone else either has done or could do that.)

Since season 3 if not before, JR was hounded on social media by pretty much every faction of the fandom (but predominantly the Bellarke and Clexa fans) replying in bad faith to anything he tweeted with demands for what they want rather than engaging with his actual tweets. Like, tweeting 'we want Bellarke' or 'we want Clexa' to things that have nothing to even do with the show. This got worse and more vitriolic after Lexa's death and after Bellamy got with Echo.

He always seemed to have the attitude that the show was more high brow or some shit than the usual CW show (even though it's on the same damn network with a lot of the same audiences), and was above shipping and romance, and seemed to resent how often interviews, panels, and press would ask about the ships (canon and potentially future). He and others made statements at various points that might have been intended in a way that the fandom did not take it to be, causing a lot of friction.

Bob Morley (Bellamy) and Eliza Taylor (Clarke) got married in May of 2019 and announced it on social media the following month, during the airing of season 6. In fact, during one of the first episodes of the highly teased Clarke/Josephine body snatching storyline, likely stealing a lot of the fandom's attention away from the show.

Bob injured himself at some point during filming for one of the seasons, and at some point during the writing or filming of season 7, he asked for more time to recover. JR responded by basically writing out his character, and then writing in an ending for Bellamy that makes hardly any sense.

After Season 6, Jason decided he wanted to end the series with season 7 and 'give it a proper ending', while at the same time the series prequel was starting to be developed. Speculation on my part, but with the CW's go-ahead to work on the prequel and use an episode of S7 as a backdoor pilot, the announcement to end The 100 was probably more in service to transitioning over to the new show rather than ending The 100. The writing and characters of The 100 were consequently de-prioritized in favor of the writing for this 'new' character (Bill Cadogan) and his story.

Eliza was also supposed to direct Episode 7 of Season 7, but suffered a miscarriage around that time and couldn't direct. I do not know the exact timeline of events, but I think writing for the end of the season was still happening at that point, and in one of the last episodes of the season the show has Clarke basically mourning the loss of her dead daughter who was tortured into being catatonic. Again, don't know if that was already written at the point of her miscarriage, but like??? Seems like something that could have been avoided.

I'm sure there is a hell of a lot more that I just can't remember right now, so if anyone else wants to chime in, be my guest.

#the 100 #bob morley #eliza taylor #anti jroth #t100 lb #replies

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

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so so many thanks to everyone who read even one of these stories. i am forever grateful for all the support i've received; every comment, every kudos, every reblog, every like - they all mean so much. i'm overwhelmed, honestly, but in the very best way. ily all 🥰

day one: against all odds (we're still here) for @trkstrnd

Carlos will hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused on his task that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

a simple trip to the grocery store quickly turns to disaster for tk and carlos

day two: out, damned spot for anon

TK wakes up gasping, choking on air. The sheets are suffocating him and, when he tries to free himself, they only seem to get tighter. The hands reaching out for him, trying to calm him, are the final straw; TK throws himself from bed and sprints to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him as he collapses against the sink.

On some level, he is aware that the hands were Carlos’s, that the sheets were theirs, that his hands are clean, and that the dream was just a dream.

But they weren't always that way.

day three: the meetings for those in my wake for @freddieholic

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news, and almost always about their son. Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas, which is why she thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Gwyn, it’s TK. He's... They think we should say goodbye."

day four: a friend in me for 📍 anon

Carlos has come to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But, right now, as she sits hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, he's never seen her look so small.

the story of how nancy and carlos become the new champions of 126 games nights

day five: truth is heavier than fiction for anon

Carlos pauses with his hand on the doorknob, taking a moment to prepare himself before going inside. TK’s shift finished an hour ago and he’d texted to let Carlos know he was home, which means Carlos is going to be walking right into a conversation he’d rather avoid.

Not that he’d have much choice either way; he might be able to cover his cracked and bruised ribs for a little while, but the arm in a sling will tell on him as soon as the door opens. Carlos doesn’t want to hide his injuries—they’ve had enough conversations in reverse on that theme to make him a hypocrite if he did—but he may have made some choices that he doesn’t particularly want to go into right now. Not while he’s tired and aching and just wants to cuddle with his boyfriend.

He blows out a breath, then opens the door, bracing himself for TK’s reaction.

“Hey— Shit!”

day six: slowly, and then all at once for @pragmaticoptimist34

The realisation that he loves Carlos hits him like a bolt out of the blue.

And at the worst possible moment.

We are getting updates on the active shooter situation at the Four Seasons Hotel. Austin Police Department have closed off the area and officers are currently preparing to enter the building to detain the suspect. It is as yet unknown if there have been any civilian casualties, but—

“Paul, turn the damn TV back on.”

“No.”

five times tk can't admit his feelings about carlos, and one time he finally does

day seven: the promise of tomorrow for anon

Up until five minutes ago, Carlos had been terrified of never having TK in his arms again. Now, the thought of letting him go scares him just as much, and TK seems to feel the same, if the way he’s clutching at Carlos’s jacket and pulling it tight across his back is any indication.

Carlos hugs him close, sinking down to his knees as TK falls into the chair behind him, letting the rest of the room fade away to nothing as he realises that they weren’t too late—that TK is here, with him, alive and mostly whole.

day eight: we'll hold each other soon for @221bsunsettowers

“Be careful, please,” TK said, smoothing down the lapels of Carlos’s shirt. “Whatever happens out there, whatever you have to do, just promise me one thing. Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Carlos knew better than to promise something like that, and TK knew better than to ask it. But because it was him, and because it was TK, Carlos just nodded and leaned in to press a kiss to TK’s temple.

“I promise,” he whispered, pulling away.

It's the last good memory Carlos has, and he's going to hold onto it for as long as he has left. If he's going to die, then the last thing he wants to see is TK's smile.

day nine: now i am just but the wayward man for anon

Ben is glaring at him again.

Klaus is very familiar with this specific glare—it’s the one Ben breaks out when Klaus is being ‘stubborn’ and ‘stupid’ and ‘a fucking asshole junkie with no self-respect who only cares about the next high and, really, it’s a fucking miracle you haven’t gotten yourself killed yet, Klaus’.

He has to hand it to him. Ben really does have him down to a tee.

winter is approaching and klaus has nowhere to go. his siblings are his only option—meaning he effectively has no options.

day ten: i can't imagine my life without you for 📍 anon

It had come completely out of left field—one minute everything was fine, the next Carlos had turned to him with guarded eyes and a clenched jaw, and said six words that sent TK’s whole world crashing down.

“I think we need a break.”

nobody likes to be asked 'trouble in paradise?', particularly when the answer is yes.

day eleven: start again from the beginning for anon

Owen trusts his son. He’s watched TK fight his addiction and stay sober for the last six years, and he has faith that he can handle himself.

But when TK doesn’t show up for work the night after proposing to Alex, Owen knows that something is wrong. After all, they've been here before.

day twelve: let me love you when your heart is tired for anon

TK knows it’s going to be a bad day from the moment he opens his eyes. Slowly, slowly, each twitch like he’s moving mountains, he inches his hand blindly across the bed to reach out for Carlos. If he can just feel his boyfriend, if he can just see him—

But, of course. Carlos has a shift today. TK has a vague recollection of him getting out of bed at five this morning, rousing him with a shift to the mattress and a gentle kiss on the forehead.

If this were a normal day, he might smile at the memory.

day thirteen: couldn't utter my love when it counted for 📍 anon

TK takes his time in the bathroom, stopping to stare at his reflection in the mirror for several minutes and trying to talk himself down from any more-than-friendly feelings towards Carlos.

Later, they’ll tell him that this saved his life.

But that won’t be for a long time, until after the smoke has cleared and the dead have been counted and the statements have been taken. For now, TK steels his resolve and nods at himself, then turns to the door, a hand reaching out for the handle.

That’s when the explosion rips through the building.

after the boba date, tk lets carlos go. they're friends, which is working just fine, until a horrific accident threatens to take even that away from them.

day fourteen: if i walk out the door (a thousand eyes) for anon

TK gets this feeling sometimes, a sort of prickling at his back, like someone’s behind him, breathing down his neck. At first, it was only a once-in-a-while situation, so he thinks nothing of it; when it becomes an everyday occurrence, he starts to wonder, but he’s probably just being paranoid. The shooting, kidnapping, firehouse explosion, and the fire at his and Carlos’s house had all taken their toll, and TK’s just generally more on edge these days.

He doesn’t tell anyone about the feeling, not even Carlos. There’s no reason to fuck up everyone else’s peace with something so stupid. It’ll go away eventually; TK’s sure of it.

That is, until one of the lots just down from the firehouse gets occupied.

day fifteen: find you here inside the dark for @fanfic-corner

Yaz has walked this room too many times to count now; she’s traced her fingertips over the walls, searching for any cracks or crevices to indicate where there might be a door.

If the Doctor were here, she’d have her sonic out by now, spitting out words, only half of which Yaz could understand. She’d find a way out in no time. Or, if not, at least she’d be here. Talking a mile a minute, probably annoying the hell out of their captors. Yaz can almost hear her now—

Wait.

She can hear her now.

day sixteen: accidents happen for @ilovemosss

So, Jason reflects, it may not have been the best idea to take Pythagoras out training while they’re all suffering from a severe lack of sleep. Being the more logical of them, Pythagoras, to his credit, had attempted to talk him out of it, but Jason ignored him.

He very much regrets that decision now.

day seventeen: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team) for @laelipoo

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the little blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

day eighteen: in perfect harmony for @anyotherheartwilldo

Here’s the thing—Carlos doesn’t believe in signs. He used to when he was younger, raised on his abuela’s stories, but as he’d gotten older his father had taught him that what mattered was the choices he made. He’s the only one who has a say in the way his life turns out, and if he wants something, he has to put in the work to get it.

But there comes a point—namely, after his fifth thwarted attempt to propose to TK—when he begins to wonder if the universe really does have something against him.

proposing to tk proves far more complicated than carlos had first thought.

day nineteen: whatever here that's left of me (is yours) for anon

“Are you…” TK leans closer, peering at the hoodie Carlos is wearing, and—yep. “Why are you wearing my hoodie? Was there nothing in your size from the crew? You should have said something. We can fix this, you don’t need to be uncomfortable.”

There’s a beat, and then Carlos, studiously avoiding TK’s gaze, clears his throat. “It smells like you.”

post-2.12, carlos finds comfort in tk's hoodies.

day twenty: can't smile without you for anon

Carlos would be lying to himself if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him before. He has always worried for TK’s safety, and the knowledge that a serial killer is on the loose in Austin has sent that worry skyrocketing. Especially because he’s the lead detective on the case; he’s spent hours poring over horrific crime scenes, examining all the facts until they’re burned into his brain.

Admittedly, the killers seem to be mostly indiscriminate in who they take, meaning the chances of it being TK are slim.

But there’s still a chance.

a before, during, and after of tk's kidnapping in a hole where your memory goes

day twenty-one: lately you've been searching for a darker place to hide for @freddieholic

“Can I ask you something else?”

TK stiffens at the sound of Mateo’s voice, a nervous note to it that wasn’t there last time. Something tells him he knows exactly what Mateo wants to ask; still, he turns to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as casually as he can manage. “Sure.”

“Are you…” Mateo trails off, biting his lip and avoiding TK’s gaze. “I mean, do you… I mean—”

“You can say it, you know,” he interrupts, not unkindly. “If you want to know if I’m thinking about heading out and getting high, then just ask.”

five times tk turns to unhealthy coping mechanisms when he wants to use + one time he finally asks for help

day twenty-two: know me crazy, soothe me daily for anon

It had freaked Carlos out the first time it happened.

“It was a seizure,” TK explained, after Carlos had finished telling him about it. TK had been disoriented and confused for about ten minutes after, and couldn’t even remember half of their earlier conversation. “I… It’s because of the drugs. They fucked something up in my brain, especially after my first overdose, and now I get seizures occasionally."

in which carlos gets a little over-protective and tk is mildly exasperated

day twenty-three: lover, be good to me for anon

Carlos holds his arms out, and TK comes willingly, setting what Carlos now recognises as a tray of food carefully on the bed. “What’s this?”

TK stares as if it’s obvious. “Date night.”

“What?”

TK pauses, then gasps. “You’re right.” He pats himself down frantically, then pulls an object out of his pocket with a dramatic flourish. It’s a little electric tea light—real candles long since banned from the bedroom—and Carlos watches in bemusement as TK flicks it on and sets it down on the tray. “Now it’s date night.”

his fiancé being bed-bound isn't going to keep tk from date night

day twenty-four: bring you in from the cold for anon

As a cop, Carlos has always been uncomfortably aware of his own mortality. He’s considered his own death more than is probably healthy, but when you’re facing down the barrel of a gun almost every single day, it’s kind of forced on you.

He’s imagined himself being shot, stabbed, strangled, and everything in between.

But he’s not sure he ever pictured dying in a walk-in freezer after getting trapped there by mistake.

day twenty-five: heaving through corrupted lungs for anon

TK is itching to go home and check on Carlos, to make sure he’s still breathing and actually resting like he’s supposed to be. On the other hand, Carlos would probably kill him if he left work, illness be damned. It’s just… Carlos had looked so ill that morning, skin ashen and voice all but gone, and it had taken a lot of convincing for TK to still go to his own shift. He’d insisted on making sure Carlos had all the blankets and water and snacks and anything else he could possibly want, but even so, he’s still uneasy.

His gut is telling him that something’s wrong, and TK doesn’t think he can ignore it for much longer.

when carlos falls ill, they think it's just a bad cold. but when tk goes to check on him, he's in for a nasty shock.

day twenty-six: slowly becoming lovers for @pragmaticoptimist34

Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.

But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.

tk and carlos, getting to know each other and falling in love

day twenty-seven: and curse the gods for @girlwhowasntthere

Jason knows what it is to be cursed.

day twenty-eight: ignoring every warning for @moviegeek03

TK is fine.

He is absolutely, 100% fine.

And, sure, maybe he’s not supposed to be at work right now, and maybe his hand hasn’t fully healed yet, but it’s nothing. His doctor cleared him to go back to work, which means it’s healed enough, and TK is certainly not going to admit defeat no matter how much he's hurting.

day twenty-nine: can you beat back the night? for @girlwhowasntthere

He misses the bard. Geralt won’t admit it, not even to Roach, but he misses him. After months—years—of Jaskier’s constant chatter and the sound of his lute, the silence, once valued above all else, is too much.

It’s been months since the dragon, since Geralt lost both Yennefer and Jaskier in one fell swoop. He’s cursed himself many times over for the words he said—to both of them—and cursed himself more for the mistakes he made to get in this position in the first place.

this is the lot of witchers, to be alone.

day thirty: ease my mind for @silvarafael

Briefly, Carlos considers calling TK and telling him about the accident. But… He only broke two of his fingers and it barely even classifies as a minor injury in his book, so there’s really no reason to bother his fiancé while he’s still on shift himself. He pockets his phone then looks around to figure out where the exit is.

Only, an all-too familiar laugh distracts him from his task, drawing his attention to the nurses station.

Where TK is standing, smiling as a nurse swats at him for stealing one of their lollipops.

Carlos is, beyond doubt, fucked.

day thirty-one: scars turn to memories for anon

Their front door is open. It’s wide open, and the wood of the door frame is broken, splinters littering the driveway and the floor of the front room. TK’s heart stops in his chest as he surveys the scene, his brain going blank, struggling to comprehend what he’s seeing.

Everything is quiet in the front room, not even a table setting out of place. TK creeps further into their home, his every nerve on edge as he barely breathes for fear of alerting whoever’s here of his presence.

And then, he remembers.

Carlos was off shift tonight. He was here. Alone.

#masterlist #holly's august extravaganza #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

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isabellitah · 4 years ago

Text

🤍 HARGREEVES x SIBLINGS

Title : shopping trip

Pairing : none but focuses on Five’s relationship with Eightie

Warning : none, i think 👀

Note : this idea was from a post i saw on my main hehe; if i ever see you again, i’ll credit you! Or if you think it’s you, tell me please hehe

ok so season 2

Five’s back

he’s back and he’s wearing the Umbrella Academy’s uniform

and he hates it

so y’know what?

he’s going shopping

with Eightie, of course

Eightie loves dressing others up and Five loves seeing Eightie happy

and so they left, leaving their siblings in the Hargreeves mansion

anyway-

they can take care of themselves for five hours max

they have powers too

they’re gonna be fine...

right?

yeah...

no ��

“I’M NUMBER ONE!”

“YEAH WELL GUESS WHAT?!”

“WHAT?!”

“TWO’S THE BIGGER NUMBER HERE, SO HA!”

“I- whAT?!”

“AHA! I WIN THIS ARGU-”

“GUYS! Robots have been attacking the streets for about minutes now, remember?”

“... oh yeah.”

“Uhh, guys?” all three eldest siblings looked at Vanya who was stood by the entrance of the house, “Klaus said to hurry because he’s out of vodka.”

“I-” spluttered Allison, “you know what? I’m not even surprised. Thank you, Vanya. Stay here with mom and Pogo, okay?” Vanya nodded and further entered the building.

“Luther, you go out and get rid of the robots that are nearest to the civillians- and Klaus. Diego, get rid of them from a bit of distance. Priority for now is to get Klaus inside to hide with Vanya and the others or to at least make sure he lives, okay?”

Both brothers nodded at their sister.

‘I just hope Ben’s still sane out there.’

“KLAUS! STOP HIDING BEHIND THE CAR AND RUN INTO A buILDING!”

“Easy for you to say, Benny! You got those tentacles out to protect you while my bottle isn’t even here to prote-” Klaus’ exclamation was cut off by his own shriek as the car he was hiding behind was smashed flat by a random robot’s leg.

“KLAUS!”

Elevator music. Bland, but catchy. The fresh, crisp air of the air conditioning sooth Five’s nerves and slightly softened his features. Ahead of him, his little sister was skipping while looking around. Much like a child, her eyes are immediately drawn to anything bright or shiny. ‘And she wonders why we’re protective of her.’

“Oooh Five, look! This shirt is so cute!” it was a plain black shirt with a pocket, which would’ve been fine, if it weren’t for the fat orange tabby cat ‘hiding’ by the pocket. Five inwardly sneered at the childish looking item but for the sake of keeping that smile on his sister’s face, he let a small smile slip and let her out it in the basket. Now beside you, he made sure his guard was up to ensure you’re safety while you babbled on and on about something or someone called a ‘Garfield’. He doesn’t remember that from Vanya’s book so it must be a recent obsession of yours.

So far so good. Most serene he’s felt in years.

This is the most stressful day Klaus has ever had!

It was all fine at first. He and Ben were just walking home from Griddy’s. Ben was carrying doughnuts while Klaus was drinking a bottle of vodka. Then suddenly, his vodka was gone and an arm was in front of him. A metal arm. Turns out robots were attacking the streets aiming to kill the Umbrella Academy. I mean, come on, it wasn’t even Bucky Barnes; what a waste of vodka! Also, where the hell is Five when you need him to spatial jump you outta here?!

“Is it the right size, Five?”

“Hmm... yep. I believe it is.” right side, left side, front and back, Five must admit, he looked good.

“Is it good?”

“Have you no faith in yourself?”

You pouted although he couldn’t see you, “Well, I do but do you think it looks good? You’ll be the one wearing it and I don’t want you to-”

“I’ll cut you off right there, Tee. I trust your sense of style, okay? Don’t doubt yourself.” when no reply came, Five sighed, “Do you want me to show you later?” when he heard your excited gasp he knew he said the right thing, “Like a fashion show?!”

“Sure,” hearing your excited squeals brought a smile to Five’s face.

“DID YOU JUST TRY TO STAB ME?!”

“NO! I WAS TRYING TO STAB THE ROBOT!”

“THERE ARE NO MORE ROBOTS, DIEGO!”

“THERE’S ONE RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME- OH WAIT! I’M SORRY YOU’RE SO FREAKISHLY HUGE THAT I MISTOOK YOU AS ONE!”

“WHY YOU LITTLE-”

“GUYS! Let’s go home.”

“BU-”

“NOW.”

“Yes, mom.”

“What was that, Diego?”

“Uhh, nothing?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“Pus-”

“LUTHER!”

“Sorry, Allison.”

Numbers One and Two dejectedly followed Number Three home with Numbers Four and Six following behind them. Number Four’s arm hanging onto Number Six’s shoulders, whining about his vodka.

Ben’s had a tiring day... because of Klaus.

After paying for everything, with their inheritance (👀) money, Five spatial jumped directly into his room with Eightie in his arms. You immediately collapsed onto his bed with a bounce and a giggle followed. As demanded by the baby of the family, Five went to the closest bathroom to change so that he can show you the outfits you chose for him. Five was, dare he say, excited to actually try on new clothes. And you were happily waiting for him on his bed, excited to see the result of your shopping trip.

On the other side of the house, Numbers One and Two were arguing, again. While Number Three and Six were looking and listening to the two squabble with the occasional eye roll. Number Four was knocked unconscious on the couch because dang that day was stressful. And Number Seven was in the kitchens with their mom making dinner.

Number Four suddenly shot up from the couch with a gasp, startling the other siblings in the room.

“What’s wrong, Klaus?” Allison slowly approached Klaus with caution just in case he reacts negatively to sudden movements. After all, he’s nearly completely sober at the moment.

“Eightie.”

“What about her?” Diego was now listening to the conversation between Numbers Three and Four intently.

“Where’s Eightie?”

Ben paled.

Allison’s eyes widened.

Diego cursed and stormed out of the room.

Luther looked slightly confused but mostly concerned, “... Maybe she’s with Five?”

Klaus looked at Luther with deadpanned eyes, “like last time?”

“Griddy’s. Luther, come on.” and with that, Number One and Number Three left the house.

“Ben?” it has now come to Klaus’ attention that Ben has been quiet for a while now.

“She’s with Five.”

“What?”

“She’s with Five, Klaus.” Ben was now facing him with relaxed features.

“How are you so sure?”

“Well, for one, Five wasn’t with us earlier today fighting those robots and he’d never miss the chance to fight anyone and anything that can cause danger to Eightie’s life.”

With that said, understanding entered Klaus’ vision, “Ahh... True.”

“But why didn’t you buy iiit?” whined a half frustrated, half amused Number Eight.

“Because, Tee, I refuse to buy, much less wear, a dress, of all things.”

“But you’d look so cute in it, Fivey!”

“No 🤍”

“A dress?! I agree with Eightie here. Fivey, you should’ve bought it!”

thump.

“Don’t throw your food at your brother, Five.”

“Sorry, mom.”

“Tongue in, Klaus.”

“Yes, mommy.”

#tua #the umbrella academy #tua x reader #hargreeves x reader #hargreeves x sibling #number eight #luther hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #number five x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader

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drop-of-infinity · 4 years ago

Text

Destiel fic time, this part canon compliant with season 12. As always, anything is quotation marks is directly from the show, and any chapter can be read alone.

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

<><><><><><><>

Chapter 9: season 12

Keep Calm and Carry On

{“Whoa whoa whoa! It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a friend.” On some level Dean knew that Mary’s gun couldn’t actually hurt Cas, but he still panicked at the sight of it pointed at the angel’s chest. Besides, he didn’t want Mary and Cas’s first meeting to involve anyone getting shot. Cas stared at him in shock, then immediately wrapped his arms around him. Dean sunk into Cas. I’m home, he thought.

{“Dean!” Cas felt like his chest was going to explode. He’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive. He latched onto the hunter, desperately needing the contact, and almost cried when he felt Dean’s arms lift up to hug him back. This is real. He’s alive. When they separated, Cas found himself breathless. Odd, as I don’t technically need to breathe, his slightly scrambled brain thought distantly. He looked up at Dean who was smiling softly, and his heart clenched. I love you.

{“Cas Cas Cas! Don’t hurt him. Not yet.” Cas allowed Dean to hold him back. He was an angel, Dean wouldn’t actually be able to stop him from doing anything, but Cas had enough faith in him to allow himself to be manhandled. He still glanced up at Dean ruefully, although the effect was slightly ruined by the way he’d already melted under his hands.

The Foundry

{“Morning sunshine.” Sam gave Dean a weird look, and he realized he’d said that out loud. It was getting steadily harder to keep his thoughts under lock and key around Cas. Dean was used to hiding feelings, but four years was a long time to know you were in love with someone and never say anything. He took a deep breath and pressed everything down again.

First Blood

{“They’ve only been gone-“

“Six weeks two days and ten hours.” Cas’s chest hurt. He hadn’t stopped beating himself up for letting them go, even though Dean had told him to. Dean. Where was he now? Was he ok? Cas knew that the longing rolling off himself must be palpable but he didn’t care at this point. He just wanted Dean back.

{“Cas.” “Dean?” “Hey buddy, long time.” “What-what happened, wh-where are you?” Cas almost collapsed on the spot. His heart was trying to beat out of his chest and his knees were weak with relief. How many times had they almost lost each other by now? It didn’t matter, because every time it was the same bone crushing relief, the same lung deflating he’s okay he’s okay he’s okay. Cas grabbed the edge of a chair to steady himself, and took a deep breath for the first time in weeks.

{“Hey buddy.” Cas melted into Dean’s arms, barely holding back a whimper. The hug was over far too soon for his aching skin, and he turned his body towards Dean as he walked away, like a flower trying to catch the sun.

{As they sat in the back of the car, Dean considered what he had done and what he was about to do. There was no way he was letting Billie reap Sam or their mom. He was about to die. It was why he was sitting in the back of the car with Cas. He just wanted to be with him for a minute. Cas’s hand rested on the seat between them. Dean didn’t grab it, because he was, at heart, a coward, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted anything so badly. He could practically see the longing radiating off himself in waves.

Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets

{“Why do you let him talk to you like that?” Dean’s blood was boiling. This dickhead had no idea what Cas could do, what he had done. He might not command celestial armies anymore, but the dude was still amazing. It was more than just righteous anger though. Cas had rebelled against heaven for them. For Dean, or so he said. The way Ishim was talking to Cas, everything he said about how far Cas had fallen... it was all on Dean. He knew Cas would resent him for saying it though, so he didn’t.

{“I’m gonna cure you of your human weakness the same way I cured my own. By cutting it out.” Cas lay bleeding on the floor, unable to do anything, but he knew Ishim was wrong. Ishim’s love for Lily had turned him dark and twisted because she didn’t love him back. Cas knew Ishim could feel Cas’s longing, and saw a similar situation to himself and Lily with Cas and Dean, but he hadn’t accounted for one thing. Cas was at peace with it. He was prepared to always love Dean and never get an answer, and that wasn’t a weakness. It was what had made him strong enough to stop the apocalypse, to break free of Naomi’s control, to save the world from Amara. It was his greatest strength.

Stuck In The Middle (With You)

{“I think I’m dying.”

“No.” Dean could feel the panic rising into his throat, and he forced it down. Cas needed him right now, he didn’t have time for this. I can’t lose him he thought desperately. They had to do something. A distant part of his mind reminded him of something someone had told him once. “I watched the man I loved die. There’s no normal after that.” Dean steeled himself. He was NOT about to watch the man he loved die because they were going to fix Cas. They had to.

{“I love you. I love all of you.” Cas was dying, and he needed them to know. He needed Dean to know. He had imagined saying it a million times, and there had been dozens where it was on the tip of his tongue, but somehow he hadn’t pictured this. Dying in a barn, stabbed by a prince of hell. In some ways, Cas thought it was fitting. Dean met him in a barn after all. The beginning of the end. It didn’t matter now. He had said it. I love you. Yet somehow, Cas couldn’t even meet Dean’s eyes. He had a feeling the other man hadn’t gotten the real meaning behind his words. Not that it mattered. This was the end.

{Miraculously, Cas didn’t die. As Sam and Dean pulled him to his feet, all of his nerves were focused on the place where Dean’s hand held his. As the hunter let go, Cas chased his touch unconsciously, and felt Dean’s hand pivot back towards his and brush his skin again. His heart clenched painfully.

The Future

{“You know what, whatever. Welcome back.” Dean knew he wasn’t being fair, and he knew he was just making things worse, but he couldn’t stop. He was just so angry. He’d been worried sick about Cas and turns out... turns out the angel had just been ignoring him. It hurt like hell. He wanted... well that was the problem wasn’t it? He wanted. Dean rubbed his face and sighed. Just because you’re in love with the guy doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole, he told himself firmly. You wanted him back and now he’s back. Don’t be a dick.

{“It’s a gift. You keep those.” It was an olive branch, and Cas knew it. He was strangely relieved to be allowed to keep the mixtape. He remembered Dean giving it to him, and he remembered listening to it anytime he was driving alone. The music was... enjoyable. Cas found he liked the beats and the feel of it, but mostly he liked that Dean had given it to him. He was pleased to be allowed to keep it. Cas felt a surge of guilt about what he was about to do, but it had to be done. For the greater good, he told himself. He remembered repeating the same thing when he was working with Crowley all those years ago, and felt slightly sick. This time is different, he thought firmly. I’m not letting Dean do this. This... this is on me.

{“W-we?” “Yes dumbass, we.” Dean’s heart broke a little at the uncertainty in Cas’s voice. Sometimes the angel seemed seconds away from breaking, and Dean just wanted to grab him and hold him together. He pushed that feeling down, along with the way his chest ached with fondness at seeing Cas silhouetted in his doorway.

{“What the hell were you thinking?”

Dean shoved him up against the hotel wall as soon as he walked in, his arm warm against Cas’s chest. He hoped Dean couldn’t feel how fast his heart was beating through the trenchcoat. Cas should really not be staring at Dean’s lips right now, but Cas has missed him so much and he wants so desperately. Sam called Dean over before Cas could do something he would regret. He ran a hand over his chest, aching and missing Dean’s angry warmth.

{“You’re hurt.” Cas reached out and touched Dean’s hand lightly, then slid up and wrapped his hand around Dean’s injured arm. It was not necessary to touch people to heal them, which Cas was hoping Dean hadn’t figured out yet. He drew his hand away slowly, and Dean looked down at his healed arm as though in awe. Cas couldn’t imagine why. He’d healed Dean countless times since they’d met.

All Along The Watchtower

{“Here Dean. Let me.” Cas touched two fingers to Dean’s head gently, and his leg healed at once. The cut on his cheek also stitched itself up. Dean felt his heart speed up a little as Cas drew his hand away, and Dean looked down, flustered. He sighed inwardly. He was a grown man, not a teenager with a crush. He didn’t get fucking butterflies. Except, apparently, he did.

{“No!” As Sam ran inside to find Jack and Kelly, Dean sank to his knees, overcome with grief. Their mom was in the other world with Lucifer, and Cas... Dean knelt next to the angel, too stunned to do anything. The outline of Cas’s wings stretched across the ground beside them, and Dean lowered his head. He felt hollow. He stood slowly, looking up at the sky. Cas had always loved the stars. Dean wanted to scream, to find God and rip him limb from limb, to do something other than sit here and drown in his sorrow, but he couldn’t. Dean looked down at Cas again. The angel’s eyes were closed. He was gone.

{Cas had felt the life drain out of him, felt his spirit fall into the earth and then sink beyond it. Now he felt nothing at all.

{Dean wished he could fly into the stars, find Chuck and make him bring Cas back. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything at all.

#supernatural #destiel #spn #deancas #castiel #supernatural thoughts #spn thoughts #spn season 12 #supernatural season 12 #lily sunder has some regrets #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #deancas fanfiction #deancas fanfic #deancas fic

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liss-99 · 4 years ago

Note

How about Love Story for Hyacinth/Gareth?

Hyacinth Bridgerton St. Clair didn’t like to admit how much of a romantic at heart she was. Her seven siblings would tease her for it, as would her husband. She was Hyacinth, the sarcastic, witty, fearless woman. But in secret, she’d dreamt her whole life of finding her Romeo, and lord had she.

Looking down at the sweet sleeping bundle of her second child, her daughter Isabella, Hyacinth couldn’t help but think back only a few years ago to the beginning of her love story. The smell of the freshly cut roses that adorned Isabella’s nursery wafted in the air, bringing Hyacinth back to that first summer.

They were both young, her younger, however, when she first saw him. Hyacinth closed her eyes and the flashback started. She was standing in the early summer air; there, rocking her daughter in the nursery, she could picture the lights, the party, the ball gowns. She saw him make his way through the crowd, over to her and his grandmother, she could remember the exact way he had first said “hello.” Lady Danbury had introduced them at a ball, the first of the season, with a mischievous look in her eye. It wasn’t until the Smythe-Smith musical that Hyacinth really considered the start of their story, however.

Little did she know in those early moments of their relationship, that he was Romeo, throwing pebbles at her window. She didn’t know then how his father told him “Stay away from Juliet,” how she would end up crying in the streets, begging him “please don’t go.”

She recalled her first time reading the play, when she was fifteen years old, how the words stuck with her forever: “O Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.”

Hyacinth remembered in those early days how she often wished Gareth, her Romeo, would have taken her somewhere they could have been alone; she was waiting, hopelessly for him, thought all that was left to do was run. He was a prince and she a princess, theirs was a love story, and all he had to do was say “yes.”

Having watched six of her older siblings find their own love stories, that summer had been a thrill for Hyacinth. She was a woman in her own right and she wanted to experience the soul-crushing kind of love Shakespeare wrote about. She recalled the days of Gareth’s seduction, how she imagined she was Juliet sneaking out to the garden to see him. With her eyes closed, she remembered the nights where they had to keep quiet because they’d be dead if anyone knew, sneaking in and out of each other’s rooms, and each other.

“Come, gentle night; come, loving, black-browed night; Give me my Romeo; and, when I shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night...”

Hyacinth would always know this passage by heart, her favorite before she met him, but one that took on a literal meaning for her when they met. She felt as if the whole world was trying to tell her how to feel about him, she knew their love was difficult, but it was real.

She, of course, recalled the moments where she doubted if he would ever come around, her faith in him fading at one point. But when he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, she understood they were not Romeo and Juliet.

The star-crossed lovers were doomed from the start; she and Gareth, they were destined to be together, they defied the stars. No, Hyacinth and Gareth were real, they had things to push through, love that would endure even amidst Gareth’s secrets and betrayals towards her.

She was pulled out of her memory by the sound of her husband entering the nursery.

“And how are my beautiful ladies?”

“Wonderful,” she smiled up at him, recalling the soft vow he made to her on their wedding night:

“You’ll never have to be alone, I love you and that’s all I really know.”

Never was there a story of more woe than that of Juliet and her Romeo, but never was there a marriage than that of Hyacinth and her Gareth.

Taylor Swift Bridgerton One-Shots

#hyacinth bridgerton #gareth st. clair #hyacinth x gareth #taylor swift #love story #taylors version #bridgerton #bridgerswift #this is so cheesy and i love it #marriage and gareth kind of rhyme deal with it I'm not shakespeare

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ducktracy · 4 years ago

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179. rover’s rival (1937)

release date: october 9th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky, puppy), robert c. bruce (rover)

at long last, rover’s rival makes history before the short even begins: this is the first cartoon to debut the opening using “the merry go round broke down”, as well as the first cartoon to have porky bursting out of the drum at the end (which i believe is animated by sid sutherland? for the 1937-1938 season anyway). the merry go round broke down would be the longest running theme song—even the merrie melodies would drop “merrily we roll along” in favor of the former in 1964. quite a feat indeed!

the cartoon itself is a fun one (as are the clampett porkys of the 1937-1938 season, a particularly strong one): porky is eager to teach his old dog rover new tricks, despite the old saying. a plucky little pup is just as eager to out-perform the old pooch, much to the displeasure of porky and rover.

the structured, spherical, well-constructed close-up of porky as he peruses a book on how to teach your dog new tricks (by author clawed meatly, no less!) can only be attributed to john carey’s hand at the cartoon’s open. porky babbles on in excitement (”oh be-boy, here’s a honey of a-a trick to teach my deh-dee-deh-do-de-dee—eh-pooch!”), wasting no time to jump out of his chair and grab the necessary toys to entertain his pup. for an expository sequence, the scene flows quickly but smoothly, especially the scene where porky grabs the hoop and the ball to play with rover. there are no cuts, and he doesn’t stop to grab either—he just glides along, propelled by his giddiness.

juxtaposition is key to comedy, and here is no exception: clampett does a great job of building up to rover’s reveal. porky dashes to rover’s doghouse, calling fragmented commands to whatever lies within the kennel. “ol’ strongheart”, as porky calls him, is finally introduced with a triumphant fanfare. hold on the still of the doghouse, and our hero enters:

note how the book porky was reading wasn’t titled “new tricks to teach your old dog”. there are no clues that porky’s faithful companion is a withered, tired, geriatric old dog (except for maybe all of the positive reinforcement—that is, “ol’ strongheart”, the fanfare, porky’s excitement—which makes itself too good to be true). chuck jones is, of course, behind the animation of rover’s entrance. once again, part of the three key identifiers to chuck jones animation: dogs, drunks, and close-ups. sometimes all three!

porky tells rover that they’ll try a couple of easy tricks “to weh-warm up”. as rover follows his owner’s order to sit up, remnants of the more comic strip looking iwerks shorts sprinkle in to the animation of rover’s vertebrae cracking as he slowly sits up--little stars and lines (accompanied by treg brown’s excellent creaking sound effects) further just how weak and old porky’s faithful companion is. if we still had any doubt, our suspicions are confirmed as rover answers porky’s command to roll over in the voice of an old man’s (provided by robert c. bruce, who would narrate a good number of upcoming cartoons): “eeeeh?”

enter the antagonist, a perfect, pint-sized foil: rover’s rival, a tiny little pest of a pup who tinkers into the scene. he spots rover struggling to roll over and winks knowingly at the audience, jabbing a thumb in a gesture that reads “get a load of this guy!” interesting to note, they don’t cut away to the pup’s introduction--rather, the camera zooms in as the pooch gets closer to the action, a fade leading to the next shot. a subtle but nice move that brings the audience along with the pesky little rival and evokes a sense of involvement, menial as it may seem.

bobe cannon animates the close-up of rover struggling to roll over, repeatedly flopping to one side. the stray pup offers to display a shred of neighborliness by blowing on rover as he gets close to actually rolling over, once more tipping him back where he started.

porky, undeterred, moves to a new tactic: the ol’ jump through the hoop trick. he signals for his faithful companion to do so, and is taken aback as the little pup jumps through instead. great joke after: porky eyes the now broken hoop, turning around as he curses “aww, neh-ne-nu-ne--shucks!” as he does so, the absence of the hoop reveals a metallic pan hanging on the side of the house, which rover (still following porky’s orders) crashes right into. wonderful timing and wonderful sound effects.

the rival pooch approaches a dazed and confused rover (with a double exposure cuckoo clock springing out of rover’s head and cooing wildly to suggest as such), barking up a storm before snarling in a high pitched, nasally voice “ya old antique! why, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks! why don’tcha give yourself up?”

despite the pup’s incessant bullying, porky is still determined to go against the age old saying. as he offers for rover to catch a rubber ball, rover chews out the smug pup, raving about young whippersnappers. “watch THIS!” rover awaits the ball thrown into the air with an open mouth, leading to some prime scheme hatching opportunities for the pup.

there’s some nice dry brush action to convey the movement as the puppy lugs a conveniently placed pumpkin and throws it into the air with a some effort, which lands squarely in rover’s maw (much to the bewilderment of porky.) dry brushing would be everywhere in the 40′s cartoons--and i say that lovingly, it’s an art!--but it’s awfully interesting to find it in a 30′s cartoon. you’d be amazed at the variety of ways it can convey speed or motion!

john carey does some wonderful animation of the pup’s comeuppance, now touting the ball in its mouth and giving a self-satisfied, quiet “yea, man!” (a reoccurring catchphrase in the cartoons of the late ‘30′s) before launching into a showboating routine. he bounces the ball onto his back legs, juggling it and even turning into a seal--barks and all--as he balances the ball on his nose, putting poor old rover to shame. instead of having the pup act like a seal, his hind legs melt together to form an actual fin, pushing the gag further. it’s a great little detail, and the jaunty score of “’cause my baby says it’s so” serves as another plus.

ending the routine, the pup opts to berate rover more, who grows tearful from the barrage of insults. “you mean t’ say... i’m one of them thar... used-to-was-es?” the prick pooch imitates rover’s speech (and appearance, his face saggy and wrinkly--to quote the cartoons, “a reasonable facsimile”): “yes, i mean to say, you’re one of them there used-to-was-es!”

finally, porky intervenes: “hey, don’t eh-imic-eh-ick-eh... don’t imic-eh-eh... don’t mimic rover, he’s eh-see-eh-ss-ehh-sensitive!” so, of course, the pup magically gains a few pounds in the face to mirror porky, stuttering back in a nasally voice (more than normal) “eh-geh-geh-geh-gee, i’m sorry to hear eh-theh-theh-eh-theh-that!” he snarls at porky in comically ear-splitting volume, rendering porky hurt for a despair-filled two seconds. but, of course, he’s back to his excitable old self after he finds another trick for rover to do.

clever decision to make the trick a “surprise”: we don’t find out what it is until after rover excitedly dashes over to porky (doing a running take in mid-air as he struggles to gain traction). the trick is simple: fetch the stick. porky tosses the stick, prompting the pup to lean up against porky’s belly nonchalantly and give a monotone, condescending countdown: “one... two... three... seven... eight... two... nine... ten...”

predictably, the puppy grows impatient, and darts off screen to outperform rover once more. rover, on the other hand, takes his sweet time picking up the stick, which proves to be to his detriment as the pup swoops in last second to grab it. i love the “shiver take” on the lower body of the pup as he slides away with the stick (another “yea, man!”, no less)--little touches like that to remind us that this is a ‘30′s cartoon are much appreciated, on my end at least. nevertheless, rover still goes in for the bite, spitting out a mouthful of dirt.

porky and the pup play a quick round of spiteful tug of war with the stick. porky manages to free the stick from the ever menacing jaws of the beast, insisting that it’s rover’s turn to get it. he throws it again, and this time rover does manage to grab it: but his dentures free from his mouth, clamping down on the immobilized stick on the ground, returning with a mouthful of nothing but saliva. pooch, on the other hand, returns the stick--dentures and all. this drawing speaks for itself in how funny it is, porky’s befuddlement always a plus.

rover inserts his dentures before getting the stick a third time, whereas porky pins down the pup (who’s winding up to retrieve it once more.) the timing of porky pinning the pup is excellent: the jump itself is only six frames, and all on ones, making it go by in an instant. treg brown’s thumping sound effect of porky pinning his entire weight down on such a small creature is the icing on the cake.

seeing as this is a cartoon, and a warner bros. one at that, the stick lands in a site filled with dynamite. so, of course, it’s only logical for a senile old dog to confuse his stick with a stick of dynamite explicitly labeled as such. rover retrives the dynamite and brings it back to an overjoyed porky (holding the pup by the turtleneck). bobe cannon animates porky gloating to the pup: “see? rover got the s-eh-ss-ehh... he got the suh-eh-seh...”

polite head pats from porky turns into porky thrusting rover’s face into the ground as he does a take, finally realizing that he’s holding ”DYNAMITE!!!” the dynamite physically clings to porky’s hand as he aimlessly thrashes around in attempt to throw it, finally managing to do so. the pooch runs off to catch it, whereas rover inquires “dynamite!?” and does some running of his own.

dashing inside the house, rover plops himself into porky’s armchair with urgency as chuck jones animates the hilarious close-up of rover frantically thumbing through a dictionary, mumbling and sweating all the way. the dead-eye and reading glasses are the perfect touch to top off the gag.

elsewhere, the pooch returns to porky with the dynamite, whispering another satisfied “yea, man!” as a job well done. porky is quick to throw the dynamite off into the distance, ordering “ee-eh-GO HOME, WILL YA!?” after the pup retrieves the dynamite once more, we’re treated with a GREAT scene by chuck jones as bob clampett’s love of magic tricks give us rapidly appearing dynamite sticks, pulled out of the infinite pockets of the pooch. chuck’s animation of porky frantically pulling on an interminable string of dynamite sticks (in the same manner of the old never-ending handkerchief trick) is especially smooth and a delight to see (animated on ones.) the upbeat score of “nagasaki” also compliments the scene nicely, reflecting the frenzied action.

eventually, the altercation turns into a rapid fire throwing match between pig and pup, dynamite sticks flying. porky struggles to catch all of the sticks, but does so anyway. the nuisance of a pup adds insult to injury by sticking dynamite sticks in porky’s mouth and ears (which would be revisited 13 years later in chuck jones’ classic the ducksters), segueing into a standard but great gag: the pooch asks if porky has a match on him. porky thinks for a split second, and, out of the goodness (or, gullibility rather) of his heart, reaches into his pile of explosives and pulls out a match.

the pooch lights all of the dynamite in porky’s possession as we cut to rover, still frantically thumbing through the D section in the dictionary. back to porky, who frantically scales a tree after recognizing his peril. the persistent puppy pops out from a bird’s nest full of baby birds, offering a terrified porky a plethora of dynamite sticks. with the same speed as he went up the tree, porky flies back down to the ground, where he STILL can’t catch a break. cue one of my favorite mel blanc deliveries as the pooch appears from the bottom of the tree, forking over a dynamite-lit birthday cake. porky rejects the pup’s birthday wishes with an ear-splitting “uh-teh-ee-eh-tee-eh-tee-ehTAKE IT AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!”

once more to rover, who finally uncovers the definition of the elusive dynamite: “noun. ‘a high explosive.’ EXPLOSIVE!?” he runs like he’s never ran before as he darts out of the house. back to porky in a hilariously staged shot, praying incomprehensibly to himself as he’s surrounded in a barricade of dynamite, the sadistic puppy laughing and pointing at him in the process.

thankfully, rover comes to the rescue: he scoops up the barricade of explosives, carrying the bundle in his mouth as he runs away to expose of the danger. of course, that doesn’t stop the puppy, who manages to lift rover up (with a gleeful grin towards the audience as he does so), turning him around and bringing him back to porky. porky tosses the dynamite away, inadvertently disposing of rover’s dentures along with the bundle. yet, like before, the pesky pooch returns with the dentures in his mouth, dynamite sizzling away in between the false teeth.

some lovely, dimensional angles of the pup sweeping across the screen and into the foreground as he and rover engage in a high stakes game of tug of war. in ‘30′s cartoons, animation is bound to be rubbery, especially in a clampett cartoon, but the decision to turn the dynamite into the consistency of rubber to demonstrate the push and pull of the two forces is a nice touch. rover manages to grab a hold of the bundle of dynamite, his own dentures snapping him right in the nose.

the gag isn’t staged very well and gets lost in the action, but rover’s dentures fly into the air as he dashes away once more to dispose of the dynamite. the dentures land back on a nearby tree branch, snagging onto the pup’s tail and causing him to dangle aimlessly from the branch. the same type of gag would be used just a few months prior on ub iwerks’ porky and gabby, which clampett also had involvement in. as the cherry on top, rover returns briefly to shake porky’s hand in a sorrowful but respectful goodbye. porky covers himself just in time for the explosion offscreen, marked by an orchestral resolution chord and a sign from the dynamite site that lands conveniently in the scene: “WE’VE BLASTED!”

both porky and his sadistic little puppy friend are quick to rush to the scene of the crime. the drawing of rover lying flat on the ground is confusing at first glance: he’s supposed to be covered in dirt, but the transparency of the cel and two dimensional line work of the dirt covering him make it appear as though rover had been dismembered in the process--gruesome, isn’t it? nevertheless, the pup proves to be much more mournful than porky, actually displaying a shred of empathy as he tearfully chats up rover, blabbering on about how he didn’t mean any of it, rover is capable of learning new tricks, and that he’s “the best little stick-bringer-backer that ever was.”

as to be expected, rover pops up, perfectly fine, just in time for the iris out: “do ya mean it?”

bob clampett has the most porky entries out of any director, and while i frequent his the most, this is one i continue to forget about. which is a shame on my part, because it’s so much fun! right off the bat i say you should go watch this one, it’s a lot of fun. while it’s nowhere near as boundary breaking as clampett’s later films, it’s still rife with energy and life. i love how the gags are often pushed to being taken literally: the pup’s hind legs turning into a fin as he mimics a seal, his face contorting to match rover’s and porky’s, the “WE’VE BLASTED!” sign after warnings of “DANGER -- WE’RE GONNA BLAST” sprinkle up between shots, and so forth. moreover, there’s some fine animation in this one, from john carey and chuck jones especially. the seal scene with the pup and the never-ending dynamite are probably my favorites, though there are a ton of funny shots as is, such as the pup with the dentures and porky praying as the pup openly mocks him.

of course, it’s not perfect--the animation is messier in some places than others, and you could argue that the back and forth structure of the gags could grow repetitive, but the benefits certainly outweigh the negatives. this is a fun early piece that reflects how far the cartoons have come, but also demonstrates that there’s much to look forward to it. go check it out!

link!

#lt #looney tunes #rover’s rival #reviews #long post #clampett

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cookiedoughmeagain · 4 years ago

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Haven DVD Commentaries: 5.18 - Wild Card

Commentary with Brian Millikin and Nick Parker, co-writers for the episode

I love these guys, they have so much to say ...

BM: So this was a tricky one. When we wound up getting assigned it, we were like; Oh boy. There was so much exposition to get in. And this was always going to be a bit of a turning point in the season. We knew that 5.14 would set up the shroud, and 15 and 16 would be living in Haven with the shroud and seeing how tough life was. And then 17 was always going to be a stand-alone episode, it was shot by itself. Lucas Bryant directed it and it was great. And that was more about Audrey and Nathan - a bit of a pause to deal with them. But then we’ve got 18 and 19 that were shot together, and we knew that these would be the two episodes to really launch us into the Croatoan story for the rest of the season.

BM: And we knew that this would be the last epsiode for Charlotte. NP: And that’s something that was tough about this episode but also fun to tackle, because we knew she was going to die at the end of this episode, and when we were first conceiving the episode we did not know that we should be coming back for 19, so we had to have a lot of emotional moments. This scene right here showing that her and Dwight are back together. We had to have a lot of emotional moments for her character so that when she bites it at the end, it’s powerful. BM: Yeah we always knew that at the end of 18 Charlotte would be killed by Croatoan. And Charlotte and Dwight were on the rocks in between 5A and 5B, but we wanted to get them back together and see them happy together again, and this is the payoff. I mean it’s sad it’s the same episode she’s going to die - it’s a bit like a horror movie where the people who have sex are the ones who get killed. And we knew we were going to open with the two of them in bed having this tender moment, because we knew that we were going to end with her dead. Which was sad because we really liked Laura Mennell, everyone did, but it was always … NP: That was how many episodes we had her for. BM: Yeah it was just the ten episodes that we had, and that’s just the nature of actor deals but it happened like that because we knew we didn’t want the character around that much longer. It’s a little bit of the Obi-Wan syndrome, that you get your answers from these people who know a lot and then at a certain point you need to dispatch with them (kind of like Garland Wuornos in the first season) so that your other characters can step up. If she was around, then she takes a bit away from what Audrey and Nathan and Dwight are left to do. So from the day we created here in 5.08, we always knew that she was going to be dying. But she was a great addition to the show. But we also knew that we needed a Trouble in the episode. NP: That was another tough thing, that this had to be, in some ways, more of a traditional Trouble of the Week episode. BM: Yes, well the dictum that we had was to have a normal Trouble for the first half of the episode, but then to reveal that this Trouble had been instigated by Croatoan. Because at this point we’ve had to dispatch with the typical Trouble of the Week to an extent. The situations that we’re dealing with, they need to start coming from our bad guy so that he’s active in doing these things. Especially because he was going to kill Charlotte in this episode. So it was a bit of a tough one. I remember us all sitting down to decide which Trouble to include and the Tarot card Trouble was one that we had been talking about for years and years. And it wound up working really well in this episode. NP: Yeah it’s fun when we can go to the Trouble Bank and pull something out, that’s been an idea that’s been bouncing around for a while, and then put a particular spin on it. And we really, really dug in on the research for the Tarot, because it’s such an established … BM: Because you’re a humongous Tarot card nerd? NP: Fair enough. But also because it’s such an established mythology … BM: Sure NP: … and there’s so much text and information out there. We wanted it to be true to the Tarot, but also dramatically interesting for a television show. BM: It was a real tough push and pull. Because we knew what we needed the Tarot cards to do to our characters. Sometimes before we knew what Tarot card to be, so we had to retrofit it a little bit - and change it up somewhat. So it was a not-ideal situation and I know it was a real struggle for you, because you’re a purist. But most TV shows will just make up Tarot cards. Or they’ll say, for instance, that the death card means death when it doesn’t really. So we endevoured to not succumb to too much of that. I think we landed somewhere in the middle. NP: Somewhere in the middle. I mean we couldn’t do the traditional seven card cross reading, we couldn’t go into the full detail. BM: No, that would be a six hour episode. NP: So it’s a simplified version but we do end up being able to work in both the major and minor arcana. It was fun. BM: Yeah and I think something that attracted us to the concept was having different cards for different characters, and Croatoan being able to draw more cards for more characters, but also the idea of, what in the room we called Russian Roulette. That we would get to a place where the only way out was to keep going forward in the game, and to draw more cards and just hope for the best. That was really appealing, particularly to Matt McGuinness, our show runner.

[As Dwight and Nathan find the second body] NP: Interesting fact here; that shoreline looks different from any other shoreline you’ve ever seen in Haven because this was no longer shot in Chester, Nova Scotia. This and episode 19 were our first episodes in our new home for season 5B; Halifax. BM: Yeah 17 was the last episode we shot before moving to Halifax. And also one of the most beautiful, so props to Lucas Bryant. But this I think was one of the first days shooting in Halifax and we really endeavoured to find locations (currently out of focus in the background!) that looked a lot like Chester. And it’s not impossible, but a little bit tough. It was a bit easier for these Duke scenes, because the Duke storyline, he’s not in Haven anyway. So that was a lot easier. NP: Ah Kris Lemche. He’s just funny. BM: Yes, Seth Byrne. Super happy that we brought him back again. He was terrific. We knew that 5B was going to be Duke off on his own for a lot of the time. And we had a lot of conversations about; Who is he going to be talking to? We wanted 15 and 16 for him to be out there on his own. And for 17, I think it was always going to be Kris Lemche. We flirted with someone else, whose name I’m probably not allowed to say right now. BM: No, I don’t think you can. But we had talked originally about having Kris Lemche come back to Haven, and so whenever he was leaving at the end of 508, it was very vague. BM: Very vague. He was like; I’m just going to , go … over there NP: I’m just going to step out of this scene, and you may or may not see me later at some indeterminate point in time. But then once we came up with the idea that the shroud doesnt only trap people in Haven, but affects the memories of people outside it, then that allowed us to have … and Kris already has that dry delivery and a good sense of humour, and he was able to handle that very well. So once we started writing those scenes it made perfect sense.

BM: So Duke’s story in this episode was always pretty straightforward. We had set up in 17 that Seth comes to him with his idea of hope, where he might be able to find a cure. And so this would be the episode where he goes to do it, and kind of believes there for a second, and then it turns out to be crap just like everything else. Another dead end. NP: Yeah we wanted to play around with the idea of the old Native healer kind of thing, turn that on it’s head a little bit and turn him into a con artist, basically. BM: Yeah and I don’t know if the con artist thing is that much of a surprise NP: No. BM: But given where it comes in the episode we had hoped that people would maybe think; Wow, I can’t believe that they’re going to actually do the faith healer thing. And then wonder; Well now what’s Duke going to do. And the idea is, that’s what Duke is wondering too.

[Nathan and Dwight and the bronco with its flat tyre] NP: What was fun about this scene was, basically getting them to talk about dating two women from another world. BM: Mother and daughter too. But yeah, for my money, I wish we’d had time to do more stuff like that. But we had so much to do in this episode. There is just a torrent of exposition coming up soon. Which our cast handled super-well. NP: Yeah it’s tough when you know that you’ve got a character who has to die at the end of the episode. And you also know that is your one character who has all the information that you need your other characters to have, it’s tought to get all of that out that quickly with it being, speechy BM: Yeah I mean there were versions of this early on where we didn’t even have a Trouble in this episode and Croatoan was the main threat - but it was too soon. So we needed everyone needed to be going through something here. But we really liked the idea of everyone being affected by the same Trouble in different ways. So it makes it pretty clear that something’s coming after them specifically. NP: And you’ll notice the tattoos on their wrists, we had long conversations about how are we going to know that everyone’s been affected by the same thing. BM: Yeah, how do they know that it’s all the same Trouble NP: And how to represent that. BM: And it was your idea I think - and luckily all of the major Tarot cards all have numbers on them. So everyone could have the same sort of Roman numeral that matches the one on the card. So it was like; That’s a great idea! But where do the numbers go? So then it was this whole debate about where the number should be. I said forehead, but that’s hours of makeup. NP: A little too much. But it was kind of funny with the major vs minor arcana. We needed Audrey to have a slightly different kind of expressed Trouble than the others, so she’s the one that’s affected by the minor arcana rather than the major BM: Well our way of thinking about it was that you have to figure that Croatoan has rigged it. He’s stacked the deck. So he would have known, because - spoiler alert - Croatoan is at the point kind of inside of Dave and possessing him from time to time, he knows everything that Dave knows. So he is aware of the aether they’ve found, and he is aware of what Charlotte and Audrey are trying to do down there. So he chose cards for Audrey and Charlotte that are preventing them from doing what they need to do. NP: Yeah and his goal is not to kill anyone, becuase that could be a simpler thing. BM: That’s true. And we knew from the get go that he wouldn’t want to kill Audrey. We knew about his relationship with Mara and what his ultimate plan is for Audrey, to kind of make lemonade out of the lemon that is Audrey and just have her be his new daughter. Which we liked because it kind of echoed what Charlotte has done; she has taken in Audrey as her daughter, and Croatoan is basically going to do the same thing. Except the problem is that Croatoan is a bad guy.

[As the guy is pretending to draw the demons out of Duke] NP: This is a cool place they ended up filming this. The production design, I appreciate it a lot. BM: Yeah this all worked really well. When we wrote it in that he would cut a vein and it would drip black goo out, I was like; Maybe they’re not going to want to do that. But everyone really responded to it. NP: It worked out. And you know it’s funny, because it feels like a bit of a different show. This feels like magic, whereas the Troubles are expressed ina bit of a different way. And what I like is that we ended up separating that, and it’s like; this is not how the world works BM: Yeah, and the actor was great here. Good casting. NP: And Kris sells it too.

BM: Ah I forgot Vince and Dave were in this episode. It was important for us to have a little Vince and Dave story in here. For the most part - huge spoiler alert for many other episodes - because we knew that Croatoan had kind of hitched a ride in Dave, and was periodically taking over his body. And that’s why Dave has been losing time, the way everyone did back in the cave. And so we needed that to be in evidence in this episode, but not super obvious that it’s Dave. Because we are going to reveal in the next episode that it’s Dave, so we needed it to be not too obvious here, but obvious enough that it makes sense in the look back. So we knew that we needed just a little Vince and Dave story where they’re poking into what’s going on and finding that they’ve lost time within this episode. And we hoped that if it happens to Vince, Dave and Gloria, maybe it’ll seem like Croatoan just fired a warning shot across their bow. As opposed to what it actually is, which is that they all lost time because Croataon came out from inside Dave and went across town to kill Charlotte. But the it’s a situation that we imagined that Vince has been losing time over and over again, more than anybody. We had versions of that story line where we would discover at the end that Vince and Dave were super addled, their minds were like swiss cheese because they’d lost time every night since… well it’s been a couple weeks now since the season started.

[As Audrey and Charlotte are talking in the cave and Charlotte mentions her father] NP: I gotta say, we kind of gave the actors a tall order here. Because it’s all exposition, but they’re having to act this whole time as though Audrey is going blind, and Charlotte is super weak. And we spent a lot of the VFX budget on the aether swirling around them, so we couldn’t do any VFX with them themselves BM: But I think that moment of them connecting and her telling her about her father is just as effective as any VFX shot NP: Thanks to them. BM: Because as much as we had a Charlotte/Dwight story to tell, it’s also a big deal that Audrey’s about to lose charlotte. And so we wanted for them to have a bit of a story here too, and for this to kind of cap off their relationship that they really came together.

NP: Ah here is Miss Fortuna [the tarot card reader], which is just a tragic name to choose. Lainey Fortuna. But the actor did a great job. BM: Yeah this worked out really well. We knew that she was going to have a big role in the episode. She has to explain the tarot card stuff, so she has to be alive throughout. But because there’s so much Dwight and Charlotte stuff and Audrey and Charlotte stuff going on here, we knew that Nathan was going to wind up dealing with the tarot card of it all, and staying here with Lainey just by the nature of the story. And yeah, galloping hooves, some of this a bit of a literal interpretation of the cards, but it’s kind of accurate. NP: And we kind of wanted to do the more traditional or metaphysical interpretations of the cards for our main characters, and then the people are in evidence, the bodies, are pretty literal interpretations; struck by lightning. BM: My only regret about this really is that we really liked the idea of Nathan’s bad luck. And in some versions of the script we had a lot of comedy really, where he had become an unlucky clutz. NP: Yeah there was door knocker that fell off in his hand, he knocked over an entire table of candles. He was kind of the slapstick comic relief. Whereas Kris Lemche was doing the dry sarcastic stuff. BM: Yeah but we just didn’t have time for it, unfortunately. This episode like so many others, came in long. And it’s kind of brutal what you end up having to cut. Even in the scripts because you have timings and we don’t have time to shoot everything, let alone stuff that’s going to end up being on the cutting room floor anyway. It’s brutal. And in this case it was almost the funniest parts of the episode that ended up getting cut. NP: Yeah probably. BM: But it happens. And this was a big deal here, what they’re about to realise. This was something we had been working towards for a season and a half, that whoever is causing people to lose time - the No Marks Killer they’re still calling him here - has now come for them.

NP: And another thing about this episode and trying to get everything done is that because this was the first episode up in Halifax, we did not have any of our standing sets. So none of this is happening in the police station or anything like that. That doesn’t happen until 19 when we see the dilapidated station. So this takes place almost entirely on location.

[When Dwight meets Charlotte and Audrey outside the cave] BM: And this was a big scene, with the Croatoan of it all. We had to make sure that Charlotte hadn’t heard that word used before in previous episodes, because we knew that it would be this episode when we would learn this from her. And we didn’t want her to be alive for too long, frankly, to tell us everything we needed to know. But her idea was not too dissimilar from the Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader distinction, that she doesn’t know that Croataon is her late husband. She thinks that Croatoan is the monster that killed her husband. And we needed for her in this episode to realise that they are actually one and the same; that her husband became Croataon. But she needed to realise that kind of without telling anyone until the very end. It was a bit of a tricky proposition, and she had a lot to explain. But Laura Mennell is as good with that stuff as the rest of our cast. NP: Yeah she sells it.

[As Duke is confronting the guy about faking the black blood] BM: This is funny, he is a lot bigger than Eric Balfour is. We always imagined that this would be a little guy, but he totally sells it with his performance. But if they got in a fight, I don’t know. NP: Yeah he’s like twice the size of Eric. But I like that they’re down in North Carolina which ties back to the classic lost colony business which is always fun. And we had known that we wanted to send him back down there to help tie up some of the lose ends from episodes 5 and 6 when Vince and Dave went down there. That was when they first learnt that there might be some connection between the lost colony myth and what’s happening in Haven, and we knew what it was even back then, that the Big Bad was named Croatoan. But we needed to learn just a little bit more. Both here from Charlotte and also in the next episode with Duke and the mysterious stranger.

[As Charlotte and Audrey talk with Dwight again, outside the cave and he says he’ll stand watch outside] BM: So this is where the episode kind of turned. We had 20 minutes of a normal Haven episode to an extent, and this is where it starts to turn into the end game for the entire season. NP: Yeah and what’s interesting about this episode is that it’s not traditional in the sense that we get to the Troubled person at the end and have to figure out how to solve it - this is like, we found the Troulbed person pretty early on, and it’s about solving it before everyone dies rather than about finding out who it is. BM: Yeah, it’s funny Nathan telling Dwight here that he doesn’t know how to solve Lainey’s Trouble. There had been a scene before this where he was working with Lainey and trying Trouble-whisper her, but it wasn’t working. Her husband was gone, but she was like; totally fine with it. And in the end we just covered it in the conversation there and I think it works. So this had been something that we sold from the get go and the network and our bosses and everybody were all on board. The appeal of the Tarot card ultimately I think was that we would get to this place where we have no choice but to flip new cards. NP: Yeah and what was the added bad stakes of that was Nathan has terrible bad luck right now.

[Nathan calling to Dwight after they’ve drawn a new card for him, silence for a scary-long time, and then Dwight’s ‘How’s it going?’] *both laugh* BM: I’m glad that worked as well as it did. He totally got it. We were not on set for these episodes. So the script goes up there, you deal with production a couple times, you talk to the director and have the table read, and then you kind of cross your fingers. But we’ve got a great team up there, and Lee Rose is a great director. But you sort of have to wait until you get the dailies a couple days later to see what worked. And most stuff does.

[Duke and Seth find the grave with the Guard symbol] BM: And the idea with this scene here was it was the end of Duke’s sort of wild goose chase, we kind of thought that he would just have to laugh about it. Walter Faraday there [the name on the grave] is a somewhat obscure Dark Tower reference. NP: Yeah it’s basically a mash up of two different characters; Walter and Faraday BM: But there is also a big Tarot card component to the first two Dark Tower books, which we both love, and so Tarot cards had always been on our to-do list for Haven. Not only that but there’s another Dark Tower reference coming towards the end of the episode. NP: And tarot felt very much in the Stephen King universe. So it was fun to finally do that episode that we had talked about doing for years. And production did a great job of making a beautiful set of Tarot cards. BM: Yeah, for legal clearance reasons you have to use your own cards. The art work and everything has to be your own. NP: Or wasn’t there something about the images on the cards are cleared, but the backs of the cards are not. So that was a whole thing. BM: And Lainey had a lot to do in explaining all these cards. But she did a great job. NP: And the Russian Roulette works well. BM: And here in the cave, with Laura Mennell and Emily Rose, we didn’t do them any favours either. We knew going into this that we had set up the idea of this cloud of aether swirling above them. And we’d known for a while that they were going to have to take all of this and turn it into the aether core... NP: They basically have to Use The Force BM: … as part one of building the new Barn. But no one ever talked about how they were actually going to do it. So we got to this point and everyone realised, what do you do? She can’t just click her fingers. So it really became similar to what we’ve seen William do in the past. But it’s a little bit tought. And we are watching this right now without the final VFX, so they are just staring up into space, so I can only hope that it looks good in the end. But I felt so sorry for them as actors because they have to just trust that it’s going to look OK. It’s not unique to our show but I feel sorry for the actors because they have to do some pretty silly stuff sometimes. But they’re selling it, they’re doing a great job. NP: And I think once they have that moment where they hold hands, that brings it all together and that earns it. BM: I’m generally like things to be as least saccarine as possible, but writing this scene I felt that was a moment where that was called for. And it ended up sticking from the first iteration of this story. And becuase we knew that she was going to die, we needed the two of them to accomplish this task together. And that them reaching out to each other would be the last step in them doing that. And remember we went through so many different designs for what the aether core would look like? NP: Oh so many. BM: And right up to the last minute as well. But I think it ended up working really well.

[As Audrey tells Charlotte her new card was The Lovers] BM: Ah the Lovers bomb. This was one of my favourite things in the episode. Once we came up with the Tarot card idea and were working out what card would be pulled for Charlotte, then it was like; What if it was the Lovers? Because that can be what tells Charlotte the truth about who Croatoan might really be, that’s the moment she puts it all together. And it would land on her face but she wouldn’t say anything - love it. And this scene [as they try to free Dwight from the fence], one of my favourites too, I love that she winds up saying goodbye to Dwight and is going off on a mission. Here she lies to Audrey to get Audrey to get away. I just love it. And I think that all three of them were really good here, especially Adam and Laura. But just in general, maybe it’s me, I’m a sucker for goodbyes. Any time a character has to say goodbye and the other person *doesn’t know that*, I’m in. NP: And she sells it super well. And this is why the devil card was so important in this moment, because Dwight is completely bound, unable to move. Helpless really. BM: Yeah this was why we ended up choosing that card - solely for that moment.

[Audrey walking along with the aether core] NP: This is a bit of a reference to your all time favourite movie. BM: My number one - Back to the Future. I’m a sucker for Marty McFly and the guitar up on the stage. But this was also something that worked with the Tarot cards we had at our disposal. And was achievable for her to be out here by herself. As a scheduling issue, you know, we might have liked for there to be a rock slide, but we didn’t have time to film that

NP: I love Gloria calling Dave Bert and Ernie. BM: And I love the revelation that we get to, that they’ve all been losing time. It’s a big deal. And we’re still trying to keep it [Croatoan’s connection to Dave] a secret from the audience as much as we can. I don’t know if it worked, maybe people see right through it. But it seemed like we could, if the characters believed that they had incurred the wrath of Croatoan because they had got too close. NP: It worked enough to delay it for now, so. I think. I hope.

[As Audrey is disappearing] BM: This was a big moment for us, we had kind of written ourselves into a corner and had realised; Well what if we just have Nathan learn the rules of Tarot card readings and start a new reading entirely? And so many of the things that we end up doing (maybe it’s just you and me?) with Nathan come down to, in a weird way, Nathan’s super power is his faith, and his hope. And so, this is just kind of what he does. And he really saves the day. NP: We try to give Nathan as many of those ‘save the day’ moments as possible. BM: Absolutely. Love Nathan. NP: He’s great. BM: Huge Nathan fans. We ship Nathan here. NP: Or ship Lucas Bryant. I love that guy to death. BM: That’s true. It’s a Nathan-Lucas thing. But it’s true - it seem deceptively simple, but sometimes you just have to ask the right question. NP: And luckily we had Nathan in this scene, because he’s the only one who can really ask that question. BM: Yeah, I mean we’d had much more complicated, involved and strange ways out of this, but this was the simplest and I think wound up being the best version of it. [Lainey on screen: If you cause is just, you can overcome any obstacle] NP: And that’s good platforming for the rest of the season I think BM: We had danced around that a lot here. We needed that prediction to be true for the rest of the season. And there was a season coming up that got cut, we filmed it but cut it - it was a brief moment where we come back to Nathan and Lainey and see that there is another card out there. And they don’t know who it was played for. It was the, um … NP: The Hermit. Which is about going on a journey of discovery. BM: And the idea was that in the lookback it would be something that would help explain who Duke winds up talking to out there in the middle of nowhere, that Croatoan had played a card for himself so that he was able to send a emissary, or a spectre to talk to Duke. And it wound up being confusing, and not really necessary, so it got cut out. NP: And we were long anyway on this one

[As Charlotte is frantically packing some things in the final scene] BM: So this scene was such a challenge. We knew that Charlotte had to be confronted by Croatoan. We knew that she knew who he was at this point. And we knew that she was going to be killed. But we also knew that the audience couldn’t see that what’s really happening here is that there is a possessed Dave off screen. So we couldn’t see him. So she had to be talking to an unseen person and be killed by someone we couldn’t see. So it was tough. I felt terrible for her, but Lee Rose [director] and Laura really put it together, because she was just all by herself talking to … I think Joanne our script supervisor was shouting lines off camera. NP: But Lee shot this wonderfully. It’s nice and dark and moody. BM: Yeah we needed it to be scary, again it was a little bit like a horror movie here. And we needed them to refer a little bit to the history they have with each other, with just blatantly expo-dumping like crazy about what’s going on. And we knew that her last words would be sticking up for Audrey, and that that might be what would cause her to charge at Croatoan. NP: That voice was interesting, because it’s both Dave’s voice but also the voice of Croatoan from the void and it needs to be masked in order for the dramatic tension.

[Duke and the mysterious stranger] BM: This was another Dark Tower-ish sort of moment. We wished that we could have shot this at night time, and there was originally a camp fire, but it just wasn’t practical production-wise to do that. But there’s a bit of a man in black and gunslinger feel to this, at the end of the first Dark Tower book. But this is where Duke is going to get some of his answers. And I love this guy. NP: This guy does a great, great job.

[Audrey about to find Charlotte] BM: And then this here’s just a sad moment. The two of them were great, but it’s tough. NP: This scene ended up working really well. BM: It was a hard one to write, and it’s hard for them to act, but I think that they really nailed it. NP: With scenes like this, you can’t be precious or careful, you just have to write the hell out of them and just go for it. BM: Yeah, we just tried to go for some emotional reality. Like, what would you say to someone in this kind of moment? I just expected everyone to blow it up and for it to get re-conceived entirely. But Laura and Emily were totally on board and everyone else was too, and I think it’s just because, it’s just sad. NP: It feels honest BM: We actually cut the last 10 seconds or so, where originally Nathan and Dwight rush into the room and the last moment would be seeing Dwight’s face NP: I think we ended up cutting that because in 19 she comes back and he gets a goodbye then BM: He does, and it kind of detracted from what is a serious Audrey and Charlotte scene here. And the challenge is that it’s a touching moment, but Charlotte needs to reveal that Croataon is Mara’s father, and he’s coming for her. NP And especially after they spent the whole episode together. They bonded. BM: Yeah, but it’s just a gutting ending here and I hope that the audience was surprised. I hope that it really lands for people NP: So yeah, there it is; the death of Charlotte Cross. Thank you so much Laura Mennell

#haven syfy #haven 5 #haven dvd commentaries #5.18 - wild card #haven spoilers

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superpuppies · 5 years ago

Text

Hobbit High

Chapter 5: The Plan Fandom- The Hobbit

Characters- Ori X Dwalin, Bilbo X Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Gandalf, Thlandral, Legolas

Rating- PG13

Word count-2534

Archive Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027448/chapters/57583291#workskin

Summary- Nori, Dwalin and Thorin come up with a plan of attack for the next day at school.

Hey all, here’s the newest from my mind, please keep in mind that I do have dyslexia and I really do try to fix all spelling mistakes but some will always slip through. If you spot some please let me know and I will do my best to correct it. Thank you.

Nori walked back into the kitchen as Thorin hung up with his father. “I found Dwalin.” He announced dropping into a seat.

“Oh? Where was the pansy hiding?” Thorin chuckled. He had been a bit surprised when his friend had run off but looking back over the day as he had talked to his dad, he was also a bit surprised by a few things he had done.

“He was upstairs assaulting my brother.” Nori sighed.

“What?” Thorin half laughed half yelped.

“I hardly think that counts as assault.” Dwalin said as he walked in pulling off his wet shirt.

“If it’s not assault, then why are you stripping?” Thorin asked.

“What does one have to do with the other? And my shirt got wet from the shower you weirdo.” Dwalin flung his wet shirt in Thorin’s face as he sat down beside Nori. “So, what are you telling Dori?”

“No idea.” Nori leaned back in his chair. “Leave me in charge, because that’s a great plan Dori. In just under three days Ori can get the crap beat out of him and possibly raped by my best friend. Great plan Dori, great plan!” Dwalin punched Nori hard in the shoulder.

“Asshole, you could tell him the truth.” Dwalin grumbled playfully.

“Are you insane, he would be back here within the hour!” Thorin cut across the table. Nori just raised his eyebrows and pointed at Thorin in a ‘that’ gesture. Dwalin waved them off and continued.

“No, when does the conference end?”

“Tomorrow at like five.” Nori eyed Dwalin suspiciously.

“Right, so Bilbo and Ori aren’t seriously injured no broken bones or anything. Black and blue, sure and a little shaken but that’s it, they’re fine.” Thorin and Nori nodded. “Besides you come home beat to shit all the damn time. So we patch them up, they go to school tomorrow, they come home and he’ll be back at what seven, he can look at them then.”

“hmm, that could work.” Nori started.

“Wait, what about school tomorrow?” Thorin added. “They have classes with Fili and Kili.”

“Shit!” Nori growled.

“Are they actually stupid enough to start something in class?” Dwalin asked.

“I can certainly hope not, but there are times when they aren’t actually in class.” Thorin countered.

“We will walk them around. Ori and Bilbo won’t enter or exit a classroom without at least one of us.” Dwalin smirked triumphant.

“What about lunch?” Thorin asked with a deadpan stare.

“It’s a free period anyway and we always go pester them why would tomorrow be any different.” Nori smirked he was very much liking this plan any reason to stalk his little brother was a good thing.

“Since when is Biology a free period?” Thorin asked while Dwalin cocked an eyebrow at Nori.

“Since tomorrow.” Nori huffed. “Alright so that’s the plan. We all in agreement on this?”

“Yeah,” Thorin nodded. So Nori looked to Dwalin who just looked right back at him.

“No, I am not going to agree to my own plan.” Dwalin said flatly.

“Well that is just ridiculous; you need to have more faith in yourself man.” Nori shook his head and the three friends laughed.

Bilbo found Ori sitting on his bed in a loose sleep shirt and flannel pants. “Are you all right?” Bilbo asked sitting next to Ori.

“Yeah… he asked me to be his boyfriend.”

“See and you were too scared to say anything all this time.” Bilbo smirked.

Ori’s lips twitched into a quick nervous smile. “I didn’t agree to or anything.”

“What!? Why not?”

“Nori came in and kind of kill the conversation just as it was starting, then Dwalin followed after him laughing. And now I don’t know. I mean what if he was just joking or something or he wanted to get a little revenge of his own and Nori just kind of got in the way.”

“No,” Bilbo put a hand on Ori’s arm. “I think it was sincere. After you stormed away from Nori,” Ori’s shoulders sank. “which was fine don’t worry about it. Even Thorin told him off about it a little and it came out that Dwalin had liked you for over a year,” Bilbo leaned closer to Ori conspiratorially, “and Nori knew about it.” Ori shot a quick glance at Bilbo. “then Nori and Thorin where poking fun at Dwalin for not saying anything to you. Finally, I asked him if he had said anything to you yet, you know just to be sure, because if he had and you had been acting this way, I was going to have to punch you.”

“Good to know who my friends are.” Ori drawled.

“I am your friend; I want you to be happy. So yes, I think when he asked you to be his boyfriend, he was sincere, and you should definitely do it.” The two boys chuckled, Ori nodding that he would.

Ori looked over at Bilbo and was hit with a sudden wave of guilt. “AAh, I’m sorry Bilbo.”

“What? You’re confusing me now.”

“I’m sorry” Ori turned to Bilbo. “I’m sorry I ran out of the room before, for leaving you there alone. I shouldn’t have, panic just kind of set in and I bolted without thinking. I’m sorry.”

Bilbo smiled and looked down at the rug. “I can’t say I really blame you or that I’m really all that upset by it. I mean I probably would have done that same thing if I had thought of it and it turned out alright.” Bilbo glanced up at Ori. “I mean sure physically I feel like crap, but now you’re dating Dwalin and Thorin kissed me, so all in all the day was a pretty good one.”

“Thorin kissed you!” Ori’s eyes lit up with excitement as he smiled at his friend.

“Yeah.” Bilbo smiled at the thought of it. “Just after you left. I think the first time was just to get me to shut up, but after that…”

“The first time? How many times did he kiss you?”

“I don’t know, at least three or four.” Bilbo blushed as Ori fell back onto his bed with a sigh. “What? Don’t tell me he hasn’t.”

“No, he has but you know just the once.”

“Oh.” Bilbo fell back next to his friend. “Well you’re dating now so that’ll change.” Bilbo shrugged. “Do you have a better shirt I can wear?” Bilbo plucked at the way too large one he currently had on with a dejected sigh. Ori glanced at Bilbo sideways and realized he had one of Dori’s sleep shirts on, so he rolled off his bed groaning as he applied pressure to his bruise.

“Yeah I think so.”

“Oh it’s got to be close to two fifty by now.” Nori said as he pushed the stir-fry around the pan.

“Really? How long have they been writing them?” Thorin asked stretching himself across the table top.

“Well, I found them maybe a year ago and he already had a good stash. And I caught Bilbo bringing more over six or seven months ago.”

“They know you know about them? And they still hide them?” Dwalin chuckled.

“No, just Bilbo knows, well as far as I know.” Nori shrugged splashing some soy sauce into the stir-fry.

“Two fifty, what can they possibly write about two hundred and fifty times.” Thorin shook his head.

“Well they have all sorts of sub categories.” Nori tossed some of the vegetables into the pan. “There’s just you and Bilbo, just Ori and Dwalin, There are master slave scenarios.” Dwalin stood and walked over to the fridge to grab a soda. “Fantasy stuff, Syfy stuff, me and Ori, there’s Dori, me and Ori and Dori, Bilbo, Me and Ori,”

“Alright, stop, stop.” Dwalin put a hand over Nori’s mouth. Nori pulled away smirking.

“That’s not even the weirdest stuff but I’ll admit I have a hard time reading those.”

“You actually read them?” Thorin looked up at Nori confused.

“Oh, yeah. They’re pretty good, your boy’s got talent.”

“My boy?” Thorin rolled the words around in his mouth.

“Yeah, I only read what Bilbo has written, Bilbo’s got everything Ori writes.” Nori sprinkled some seasoning over the stir-fry.

“So where are they?” Dwalin asked sitting back down at the table. “Beside this one” Dwalin reached into his back pocket and dropped the story onto the table.

Nori raised an eye brow at the offending story of the day and smirked. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious as to what’s expected of me.” Dwalin rebuked.

“He’s afraid he’ll be a disappointment.” Thorin laughed, Dwalin smacked him across the back of the head. “See, I’m right.”

“I think you’ll be a slight change to what he was thinking.”

“Why?”

“He gives Bilbo back the stories he doesn’t like.” Nori huffed. “Apparently the most common complaint is that they don’t seem like they could really happen. But of the few that Bilbo has given me to read they seem pretty spot, on to me.”

“So you’ve also read the impossible ones?” Dwalin raised his eyebrows skeptically.

“Yep. The regular ones are kept in Binders marked ‘Algebra’ and ‘Argumentative Writing’. Well those are the best categories anyway, in his room.”

“Algebra?” Thorin laughed.

“Would you look there?” Dwalin smirked.

“It’s not a bad hiding spot but if anyone ever did just pick it up, it’s clearly not algebra.” Nori shrugged.

“No, but still.” Thorin answered Dwalin.

“Has Dori called yet?” Ori asked walking into the room with Bilbo. Thorin sat up as Dwalin dropped his feet off the tables edge.

“No not yet.” Nori answered. Ori’s cheeks tinted pink as he noticed Dwalin wasn’t wearing a shirt anymore; Dwalin saw the slight color change and smiled at Ori who then quickly turned back to his brother.

“So what are we going to tell him?”

“Don’t worry about it, I got it figured out.” Ori gave Nori an exasperated ‘Really’ look. “What? Sorry I ruined your and Dwalin’s little moment.” Nori flipped the contents of the pan.

“Whatever, just as long as it doesn’t have me being attacked by ravenous wolves again.” Ori grumbled turning toward the living room. “I’m going to watch some T.V.”

“Yeah, fine, you ass.” Ori ignored Nori’s remark as he walked into the living room and clicked on the T.V.

“Ravenous wolves?” Bilbo said cocking his head to the left.

“It was funny.” Nori shrugged, pulling down some plates.

“Somehow I doubt that.” Bilbo turned and walked into the living room.

“Explain.” Dwalin said coolly with a matching glare.

“Last time Dori was at one of these things, he called to say he was heading back and I told him that Ori had been attacked by wolves.” Nori shrugged with a smirk. “I swear he teleported back here, frantic.” The phone begins to ring, so Nori turns down the stove heat. “Only to find a perfectly fine Ori sitting in his room doing homework.” Nori flips the stir-fry and walks toward the handset. “Dori wouldn’t let go of him the entire time he was yelling at me.” Nori smirked answering the phone. “Hey Dori.”

Thorin smirked at the tale but stopped as he turned to Dwalin and watched him roll his eyes. “It’s kinda funny.” Thorin said standing.

“It’s stupid.” Dwalin grumbles walking into the living room.

“It’s what he does best.” Thorin chuckles, walking over to Bilbo, who is laying on the loveseat. “Scoot.” Thorin waves his hand at Bilbo who reluctantly shuffles to one side of the loveseat. Thorin drops down and pulls Bilbo over to rest against his shoulder. Dwalin lifts Ori’s legs and drops down onto the sofa before replacing them across his lap. Ori shifted slightly to curl his legs under himself but Dwalin held them where they were. The four sat in a nervous, companionable silence flipping through the channels until they settled on the horror movie channel. Some made for TV movie was playing and they all laughed at the terrible acting and effects.

Nori finally joined them and hour later with two cups of water in hand and a pill bottle under his arm. He handed Ori and Bilbo each a glass and then shook out two pills for each of them. “Doctor’s orders.” Nori said walking back into the kitchen, Ori and Bilbo downed the pills without protest. Nori reappeared with plates of stir-fry for everyone and stretched himself out on the floor to catch the end of the movie while he ate.

Half way through the next movie Ori and Bilbo where nodding off. “Dwalin, think you can get him to bed?” Nori asked getting up. Dwalin just nodded ignoring the innuendo. “Good, I’ll take Bilbo and handsy over there for the night.”

Thorin stopped his hand from sliding any farther up Bilbo’s thigh. “For the night?”

“Yep, Dori says we got to watch them through the night, now let’s go handsy.”

“What? Why doesn’t Dwalin need a chaperon? He’s got your baby brother.”

“Cause Dwalin hasn’t been stupid enough to grope Ori for the past half hour in front of me. And I highly doubt he’ll do anything when he knows I could burst through the door at any moment.”

Dwalin looked over at Thorin smugly. “Idiot.” He then gently tugged on Ori’s arms to try and get him off the sofa. Nori cleared the plates while Dwalin and Thorin began moving Ori and Bilbo about.

“Come on Ori, up ya get.” Dwalin managed to get Ori sitting but just barely.

“No, let me sleep here.” Ori mumbled falling back toward the cushions. Dwalin carefully wrapped his arms around Ori’s torso and began to lift.

“Nope, you’ll be sore enough in the morning already.” Dwalin said soothing but firm.

Ori grumbled but let himself be manhandled, offering absolutely no assistance in the endeavor. Dwalin sighed and glanced over at Nori and Thorin, they weren’t faring any better than he was and there were two of them. Dwalin almost wished he had Bilbo, Bilbo’s small stature and body build made him someone Dwalin could easily throw over his shoulder. Whereas Ori was only a head taller than Bilbo but with a slightly sturdier body build it didn’t seem like much but was just enough to make it difficult and uncomfortable. What with the difficulty Thorin and Nori where having just with Bilbo, Dwalin didn’t think they would ever get Ori up the stairs. Turning back to Ori he tugged the younger boy up to standing and this time Ori just fell against his chest instead of back onto the sofa. With careful, slow steps Dwalin began leading Ori to the stairs.

Thorin was grumbling at Nori who had finally just settled Bilbo on to his back piggy back style. “Well you could have but you didn’t, you just stood there bitching about it.” Nori half whispered over his shoulder at Thorin as he passed Dwalin.

“It was my idea.” Thorin growled quietly.

“Well good for you.” Nori spat out sarcastically.

Dwalin just rolled his eyes as he decided that they had all been friends for too long. They were starting to sound like an old married couple.

#the hobbit #Ori #Dori #Nori #Dwalin #dwalin x ori #dwalri #thorin oakenshield #thorin x bilbo #Bilbo Baggens #Fanfiction #AU Highschool #Fili #Kili

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mittensmorgul · 6 years ago

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vidya-sankolgar

1) I'm rewatching spn, are there are some things...

Sometimes it feels like they have this big story planned out at the beginning of the season, only for this story arc to fall completely flat in later episodes of the same season. I think that they only think a few episodes ahead, and not whole seasons. Maybe that’s why they hit the ground running, and then they just sort of fall on their face in later episodes.

Well, I mean, I think they DO try to make seasonal arcs consistent, at least planning the general direction of said season-long arcs from the beginning of each season, but the earliest seasons are one obvious exception.

When the show started, Kripke’s “original vision” was, as he has said numerous times, “Star Wars in Truck Stop America,” where Sam and Dean would be facing down urban legends and ghost stories each week while trying to solve the mystery of what happened to their father, and what killed their mother 22 years earlier. I’m fairly confident that Kripke knew that it was a “Boss Demon” type that killed Mary, but so many of the details likely evolved as s1 broke in the writer’s room, you know? Kripke himself has said that the show and the larger narrative evolved as they realized the greater potential of the mytharc.

Here, read Kripke’s original pitch for the series:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/182635526280/eric-kripke-on-twitter-for-the-300th

Which took an entirely different turn by the time the series was eventually picked up and he pitched the first five episodes:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/182635407515/erik-kripke-on-twitter-for-the-300th

And more about how Kripke’s “vision” evolved and the origin of the “five year plan” myth that fandom passes around as if it were the truth:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/182430700170/about-supernatural-season-six

and

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/182430405090/about-supernatural-season-six

and his 2010 sdcc roundtable interview where he himself debunks the “original plan”:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/177539044685/justanotheridijiton-eric-kripke-comic-con-2010

But that said, I think by necessity they MUST at least have a general (however vague) roadmap that hits necessary narrative milestones leading to the season-ending narrative goal, you know? If they didn’t at least have a rough outline of a plot, there’s no way a group of six or seven different writers could possibly construct a cohesive season-long narrative, you know?

Like, in s1 (as noted extensively in the links above), Kripke has said that after 1.09 (Home) and 1.12 (Faith), they realized the show had a far greater potential for character development and the mytharc, that there was far more ground opened to them narratively by looking beyond the simple MotW type stories they’d largely been focused on at the beginning of the series as they felt their way through this fictional universe and began uncovering the depth of the characters themselves.

Then you have a season like s3, that was unexpectedly shortened by six whole episodes due to the Writer’s Strike:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/177284016915/dustily-eric-kripke-interview-from-issue-8-of

When they returned from the strike, they had FOUR episodes to tie up the entire season-long arc, instead of the ten they’d been planning for back at the beginning of the season. By necessity, the endgame of the season had to change.

But it’s impossible to look at s4 and think Kripke didn’t know exactly how the season would end right from the start, you know? The entire season was so consistently heading to that exact ending-- that everything they’d done to prevent the apocalypse had actually been meticulously manipulated to actually START the apocalypse and break Lucifer out of Hell.

Now, some of the details on how that would all unfold-- such as the angel who rescues Dean from Hell gradually becoming a trusted ally who was deceived just as horribly as Sam and Dean were-- obviously came about during the writing process. Cas was originally only slated to be in a handful of episodes, and the story obviously evolved to encompass a larger role for him going forward because he proved to be such an interesting character on his own. So details may evolve and change over the season, but the endgame goal is typically what any writer needs to know when setting out to write anything.

Even the pantsiest pantsers I know at least know that when they set out to write, you know? Or else nothing else in the story will make sense by the end.

The one clear and obvious exception to this is the s10 “plot accordion.” The Darkness came almost entirely out of left field, shoehorned into the end of the season through the distracting and pointless introduction of the Styne family. But there’s “real world” explanations for this as well.

At the time s10 broke in the writers’ room, Carver had been working under the impression that s10 would be the series finale. This was back in the day before they got the “always have a place on the network, you don’t even have to ask” ticket, and renewal was not guaranteed or presumed. Carver was also working on a deal to showrun his own project on another network, and as far as he was concerned, he’d be moving on regardless... and then the show was renewed and he found himself scrambling to pry open a lot of storylines s10 had been working toward closing, you know? So instead of a logical glide into a possibly series-ending finale, the second half of s10 became a mess of conflicting storylines and they scrambled to shift the narrative direction away from an endgame.

I’d venture to say that this was the ONLY season with this level of narrative fuckery on a structural level.

Even s11-- what I think of as the transitional season between Carver Era and Dabb Era-- bookends itself perfectly, thanks to the early-season structural setup of “mirrored storylines.” Carver writes the pilot, and Dabb writes the second episode which literally functioned as the second half of the pilot, closing the story of 11.01 with a fuller narrative in 11.02. And the entire season folds together exactly like that, from the point Dabb began quietly taking over for the second half of the season, building on his own story and gradually leaving Carver’s behind. I hope that makes sense, but I’m currently watching s11 again, and I still think it’s one of the most beautifully crafted seasonal arcs of the entire series (probably only outdone by s14). (yes, even better than s4)

#vidya-sankolgar #narrative structure #kripke #dabb vs cars

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ansu-gurleht · 6 years ago

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sermon ten, annotated

ok, i’m skipping some sermons. at some point, i’ll cover every sermon, including the ones i skipped, and i’ll have a masterpost for them. as for now, let’s talk about sermon ten.

You have discovered the tenth Sermon of Vivec, which was hidden in the words that came in the aftermath to the Hortator.

the lessons often have related series of sermons sprinkled throughout. this series, began in sermon six, takes the form of vivec advising nerevar.

The evoker shall raise his left hand empty and open, to indicate he needs no weapons of his own.

to evoke is to call forward, or summon - so the evoker summons forth his friends and foes. the evoker may also be one who seeks power, usually divine.

it’s very worth noting the inspiration that [writer-of-these-sermons-who-is-not-to-be-named] draws upon for a lot of the symbolism throughout is based on western occult practices of the 19th and 20th centuries. most notably, the ideas are heavily influenced by practices such as thelema.

simply put, in these kinds of magical practices, the right hand is associated with positive qualities, whereas the left hand is associated with negative ones. the right hand is creation, purity; the left hand is destruction, chaos.

in the context of this sermon being advice given by vivec to nerevar, it stands to reason the “evoker” refers to the hortator. with his “left hand empty and open” he shows “he needs no weapon of his own.” note, however, that in sermon seven, the egg vivec wrote GHARTOK PADHOME, the hand that wields change like a weapon, on both of his hands. hortator needs no weapon because his hands are his weapon; his hands are change, and that is enough.

The coming forth is always hidden, so the evoker is always invisible or, better, in the skin of his enemies.

the evoker calls forward, so “the coming forth” is done by those he summons. they will be hidden, but so will the evoker, either “invisible, or, better, in the skin of his enemies.” the latter is a reference to the legend of boethiah wearing trinimac’s skin to denounce the old ways and encourage the velothi movement.

'The eyelid of the kingdom shall fill thiry [sic] and six folios, but the eye shall read the world.'

the thirty and six folios are these lessons, of course. as for the eyelid and the eye, we will return to this later in this sermon.

By this the Hortator needs me to understand. The sword is an impatient signature. Write no contacts on the dead. Vivec says unto the Hortator remember the words of Boet-hi-ah:

the previous quote (’The eyelid of the kingdom....’) is what the hortator needs vivec in order to understand. another instance of vivec downplaying nerevar’s intelligence and agency.

the sword being “an impatient signature” means that violence can show your hand too quickly. have patience before making yourself known, and signing your signature upon the deeds. come forth with empty hands.

uesp usually adds [sic] when there’s a typo. as for the “contacts on the dead” line, i think there is also a typo. the only evidence i have for this is that “contracts on the dead” fits better with what i’m saying.

anyways, the point is that you put your signature on a contract. violence is an impatient signature, one that shows your hand too soon, so it’s likewise unwise to try to force the dead to comply with your demands. did i say unwise? i meant impossible, unless you’re a necromancer.

if you’re patient, and hide your sword behind open hands, you may end up getting a better deal than defeating your enemies. maybe you find a way to “hold your friends close, enemies closer.” case in point, the chimer-dwemer alliance against the nords.

anyways, we’re primed for the next paragraph, which is “the words of Boet-hi-ah:”

We pledge ourselves to you, the Frame-maker, the Scarab: a world for us to love you in, a cloak of dirth [sic] to cherish.

the “Frame-maker” and “Scarab” is lorkhan, who boethiah has always had a major crush on. boe claims that the true purpose of the mundus project was to elevate lorkhan via recursive reflection, worship that comes around on itself and self-amplifies. it’s not without its struggles, though: it’s “a cloak of dirt” after all.

Betrayed by your ancestors when you were not even looking. Hoary Magnus and his ventured opinions cannot sway the understated, a trick worthy of the always satisfied.

and those struggles ultimately derive from the other et’ada losing faith in him and his project. their lost faith became bitterness which became betrayal. when lorkhan was on the cusp of his greatest victory, “when [he was] not even looking,” he was turned upon viciously.

“hoary magnus” refers to the god of magic, who is also the sun. despite the betrayal of the vast majority of the et’ada, led by magnus and auri-el, magnus’s “ventured opinions cannot sway the understated,” meaning his mutiny didn’t convince the few who still clung fast to lorkhan’s vision. for those faithful, it was the best “trick” he could try to cast doubt on the mundus project - nothing short of such manipulation could have possibly swayed “the always satisfied,” those who are so sure of their ambitions that nothing could discourage them.

A short season of towers, a rundown absolution, and what is this, what is this but fire under your eyelid?

“a short season of towers” refers to the history of nirn. the towers are physical spires with metaphysical implications, things that hold up reality and its tenets (or those imposed by their architects and rulers) like tentpoles.

absolution means forgiveness, but a “rundown absolution” is a forgiveness in a sad state, of very poor quality. lorkhan forgives his kin for their betrayal, but it is bitter forgiveness, for only lorkhan truly understands the scope of what was lost. “a short season of towers” could have been something much, much greater.

and, in case we didn’t already understand how boethiah feels about lorkhan, she tells us that even the majesty of what has been created is “but fire under your eyelid?”

but there’s more to this eyelid thing. remember that line i skipped over earlier?

'The eyelid of the kingdom shall fill thiry [sic] and six folios, but the eye shall read the world.'

the eyelid is what you see when your eyes are closed, when you are asleep. the sleeping may read these sermons, but they’re nothing “but fire under your eyelid” - to be awake, with your eyes open, you can read the world itself. note the sleeping/awake dichotomy, which should be familiar if you’ve played the main quest of morrowind, and discovered the sleeping, dreaming house dagoth.

Shift ye in your skin, I say to the Trinimac-eaters. Pitch your voices into the color of bruise.

the “Trinimac-eaters” of course refers to boethiah and her faithful. the dunmer have not only distinct skin from their altmer cousins, but distinct accents as well (except in oblivion, but ... yeah). in morrowind they have the classic chain-smoker voice, and skyrim gives them sort of a scottish(?) accent. (i don’t know what eso does, forgive me.) “the color of bruise” refers to the blue-grey skin of the dunmer, so they “pitch [their] voices” into the same shade.

Divide ye like your enemies, in Houses, and lay your laws in set sequence from the center, again like the enemy Corners of the house of Troubles, and see yourself thence as timber, or mud-slats, or sheets of resin. Then do not divide, for yet is the stride of SITHISIT quicker than the rush of enemies, and He will sunder the whole for the sake of a shingle.

to become stronger, the chimer must divide into Houses, each a unique facet of velothi culture, each an important cog in the machine. they may be divided “like your enemies,” but these smaller units strengthen the whole, which vivec (or boethiah i guess) likens to the materials you build a house with. a house is built with timber and mud-slats, just as a House is built of its members; and because of these smaller strengths, chimer society as a whole is made stronger - the Houses become the timbers of a people.

SITHISIT, another name for padomay, primordial chaos and entropy, will ruin the strongest societies, and leave them vulnerable. so instead, cut up your society into manageable chunks, as Houses. the Houses are in conflict with one another, which strengthens them - and their collective strength becomes the strength of the nation. so at the cost of a unified culture, you “sunder the whole for the sake of a shingle.”

For we go different, and in thunder. SITHISIT is the start of all true Houses, built against statis [sic] and lazy slaves. Turn from your predilections, broken like false maps. Move and move like this. Quicken against false fathers, mothers left in corners weeping for glass and rain. Stasis asks merely for nothing, for itself, which is nothing, as you were in the eight everlasting imperfections.

through SITHISIT, the chimer are made different from the altmer. the Houses of the chimer are stronger than the clans of altmer, whose anuic bent prefers stasis, the absence of change - they are “lazy slaves” in deference to auri-el and his ilk. the chimer abandon these anuic “predilections, broken like false maps” - this adherence to stasis is a road leading to nowhere.

“move and move like this,” like fa-nuit-hen, the demiprince who taught the egg vivec in sermon one. the daedra are the ones who know the true path. the aedra are “false fathers,” parents who neglect their duty to allow their children to grow. the “mothers left in corners” might refer to the anticipations, who are almost always depicted as female (with a few occasional exceptions in boethiah). as for why they weep “for glass and rain,” i’m not sure.

stasis asks for nothing and itself, which boethiah says are the same. after all, stasis only holds as much value as it can be compared to. if all were static, nothing who hold any value at all. thus, it is empty. “the eight everlasting imperfections” are the eight divines (talos didn’t exist yet), who are the embodiments of stasis.

Vivec says unto the Hortator remember the words of Vivec.

okay, there’s a verse here where every other line is this line. so i’ll just quote the verse with all those cut out.

UNDERSTAND THAT SITHISIT STILL TRAVELS IN A PHOSPHORESCENT MIRROR OF THE SKY DROWNED AND SMILING INTERMITTENT HOPES ENOUGH TO ANSWER ALL THE THINGS NOT YET QUERIED

“SITHISIT STILL TRAVELS,” a reminder that it is fleeting and always shifting. the “PHOSPHORESCENT MIRROR OF THE SKY” is the mundus, which was meant to reflect lorkhan over and over again until he surpassed the entirety of the aurbis. although, betrayed, “DROWNED,” lorkhan (who is the purest avatar of SITHISIT) is also “SMILING,” for despite his failure, there is yet enough hope that everything will be alright.

as always,

The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.

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reddielibrary · 6 years ago

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Riding Lynda Carter

Prompt: young eddie falling over and breaking his leg in the barrens and richie has to find a way to get him out and to a doctor

Written by: Alexis | @quixoticquest

Word Count: 4288

*click title to read on AO3

For the last twenty years since he had moved away from Derry, Richie had left a majority of his childhood crap at his folks’ place. There wasn’t any real purpose for it in LA. But recently he had an encounter with his past again, and the people in it. Now just seemed like as good a time as any to revisit those old keepsakes, go through what he wanted to donate, or keep.

Keep in preparation for moving in with his boyfriend, that is.

“Yikes, this inflatable pool has got to go,” Eddie stated, gripping the great rubber monstrosity with both hands, shielded by yellow gloves.

“Aw, why?” Richie whined, for no other reason than it was fun to be contrary. “That’ll make a great centerpiece for our dining room table. Just gotta find one big enough.”

Eddie trashed the pool, eyeing his boyfriend the whole way into the black garbage bag. Richie just smiled and carried on flipping through a box of pictures from some party or another.

“Hey, what’s this?” There were only so many things that Richie expected to find in his parents’ garage besides his dad’s tools and rat poop. Imagine his surprise when Eddie dragged a big hunk of old wood out from behind Went’s workbench. A set of rusty, crusted runners hooked under the cobweb covered slab, which meant it could only be one thing.

“Oh, shit. That.” Richie rushed over, tripping over Eddie’s trash bag as he yanked the old sled away from him (and boy was it heavy!). “This we can burn. I mean there’s no way to throw it away responsibly and with global warming running rampant it won’t serve any purpose if we donate it.”

“Wait, I remember this.” Eddie gasped, eyes flashing brighter than Richie expected anyone else pushing forty. “Your Flexible Flyer, from ‘87. I can’t believe you didn’t take better care if it. Don’t you remember, Richie? Oh my gosh.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Richie grumbled, staring ruefully at the dreaded sled. That was one memory he wished not to keep.

***

Patience was not a virtue Richie Tozier possessed, but today, he was actually giving it the old college try. Watching Mrs. Kaspbrak fret and dote over her nylon-clad son, pulling buttons and zippers and strings until he looked like a bright red Michelin Man, was its own kind of torture. Richie couldn’t groan, couldn’t sigh. He couldn’t even laugh when Mrs. K asked if Eddie had remembered his thermal underwear (though he would definitely tell Bill and Stanley later).

One wrong move, and he’d be sent off without Eddie for the rest of the day - maybe the rest of winter break. Who knew when Derry was going to get another perfect eight inches of tantalizing snow again? Probably on a school day in February for the jerk principal to keep class in session.

“I want you back before it gets too dark, you hear me?” Mrs. K commanded, while Richie struggled not to fidget in the doorway. And here he thought he could avoid all this consternation if his mom called and asked the night before. Like they were six and still needed to schedule playdates.

Eddie nodded, with a good deal of swishy noises between the hat, earmuffs, hood, and scarf all competing to swallow up his face.

After a drawn out goodbye session full of wet cheek kisses and smeared lipstick stains, they were off, stepping through the snowtracks Richie had already made on his way to the door.

“You don’t have to pee, do you?” he asked Eddie, when they were out of earshot. “I dunno if I can wait any longer if you do. You might have to take one for the team and shove a bottle up your pants.”

Eddie made a noise that sounded like a lot of hot air against wool, his mouth muffled by his scarf.

“Pardon?” Richie asked, cheesing.

Eddie growled, shoved his scarf down, and ripped off his hood. “I said shut up, Richie,” he snapped, wiping his mother’s lipstick off his cold-nipped cheeks.

Walking was a lot faster when they reached the street, where the snow had been scraped away the night before in preparation for what the perky blonde weather lady on channel five was calling the biggest snowfall of the season. It certainly seemed to be true, with the fluffy white stuff climbing up Richie’s legs to chill his shins. Perfect weather for playing (so long as Eddie’s mom decided to be reasonable).

“Check it out,” Richie gushed, shuffling backward to pull his brand spanking new Flexible Flyer out from the bushes where he had tucked it away. Had to hide it before he got to the Kaspbraks’. No way Mrs. K would let Eddie participate in any winter activity more strenuous than a snow angel, if she knew about it.

“Wow,” Eddie exclaimed, all bright-eyed excitement as he bent toward the sled to glide his mittens over the red runners and smooth, finished wood. “This is so awesome, Richie! Is it the newest model?”

“Yeah, Santa really pimped me out this year.” Richie grinned smugly from behind his glasses, and crossed his arms - best he was able in his stiff, puffy snow jacket.

“Did you name it?”

“Her , Eds, her. You know what Bill says. And yes, I did. Wanna know what?”

“Well, that’s kind of why I asked, stupid.”

“Her name is Lynda Carter,” Richie proclaimed, patting the flat seat of the Flexible Flyer with his gloved hand, “because she’s fast, and strong, and the minute I saw her I knew I wanted to ride her all day long.”

Eddie must not have been a fan of Wonder Woman, because he levelled a dry glare at Richie. “Gross.”

“Get your own sled if you don’t like it, Eds.”

“I can’t!”

Eager to put Eddie’s house far behind them, Richie grabbed the rope on Lynda Carter and started off on their winter trek, Eddie in tow. The number one spot for sledding in Derry was behind the library, where the slope was flat and steep and teeming with every stupid idiot from school, pushing into one another and taking forever to get back up to slide down again. With that many people, the snow was bound to get worn through too.

“The library’s in the other direction, Richie,” Eddie pointed out, shuffling along behind Lynda.

“I know,” Richie chirped. Their walk was pretty slow-going, but there wasn’t much he could do dragging a sled with almost a foot of snow on the ground.

Eddie made a flabbergasted noise that sounded like his voice had been caught in the back of his throat. “Then where are we going?”

“You’ll see!”

It didn’t take very long to see. Richie was still trying to master the art of anticipation, but one thing he did know was that if he told Eddie where they were headed, he ran the risk of derailing his whole operation. Sometimes Eddie could be just as persnickety as his own mother.

In no time, toes chilled through boots and two layers of socks, they arrived at the road up to the Kissing Bridge. Richie waited like a good little boy for a car to pass before he crossed the street, but Eddie yanked him back by his collar and nearly choked the life out of him.

“The Barrens?” Eddie demanded, while Richie lamented (not even a hundred feet away from their glorious destination!). “You wanna sled in the Barrens? It’s all trees, Richie. You’ll break your sled.”

“Lynda,” Richie whined. “And I can steer clear of trees! Don’t you have any faith in me, Eds?”

When Eddie stared him down silently for too long, Richie waved his arms and relented.

“Okay fine, we can go to the dumb old library.”

“Good,” Eddie stated, grinding his heel into the snow to turn around.

“Where everyone else is gonna be,” Richie went on.

“Probably!”

“Bumping into each other, hogging the slope.”

“Oh well!”

“Waiting like sitting ducks for when Henry and his chuckleheads come and ruin everything.”

All Eddie’s forward momentum ceased. Bingo.

“I think we could take ‘em though,” Richie went on, patting his scrawny bicep through his coat. “A little fisticuffs never hurt nobody - well, just so long as you can dodge some punches, otherwise your mom’s gonna have a hissy-”

“Just cross the street already!” Eddie shoved both hands into Richie’s back, and he grinned triumphantly toward the heavens as they headed to the Barrens.

The slanted plane of land leading down into the trees was a lot steeper than Richie remembered from the summer. Maybe it evened out toward the bottom, he wondered. Not all the snow would stick to the top of the slope, and fell to the end of it, to create a bigger cushion, all because of gravity. That was just basic physics, after all.

“How ‘bout here?” Richie asked, stopping after they’d walked on for a few minutes. “Looks pretty clear to me.”

“Richie, there’s like seven trees all down that direction,” Eddie said, motioning toward the pristine blanket of snow laid before them - or it would have been pristine, if not for the spindly trunks shooting into the sky.

“Uh, I count five,” Richie retorted, hauling Lynda over the bridge barrier. “And I told you, I can steer past them. All I have to do is lean a little. It’s barely steering.”

If Eddie meant to say something back, he floundered, helpless while Richie went about settling Lynda where she wouldn’t slip too soon, and mounting with the rope in his hand. When Eddie didn’t come sit his stupid butt down immediately after, Richie waved him over.

“I don’t know about this, Richie.”

“Come on, Eds! What are you, a pussy?”

Eddie’s eyes flared indignantly. Richie was doing a damn good job with his kicks in the right direction today.

“I am not a pussy.” Eddie dropped onto Lynda with a creak of wood.

“You can put your arms around my waist if you want,” Richie gushed.

“Just shut up and push off!”

Richie did just that. Lynda and her load slid through the snow with amazing agility, gaining speed as the incline disappeared behind them. Richie yanked on the string and wrenched his body around the thick trees scattered across the hillside, usually in the nick of time, to the tune of Eddie’s shrieking. Richie matched him in volume, only he was laughing instead.

They came to a gradual stop at the bottom of the slope, grinding into the snow-covered field that banked off into the stream where the sewers emptied out. A couple more feet and they might have been skidding across the frozen, rocky water.

Red-faced and panting, mostly from shouting their lungs out, the two of them climbed off Lynda, just a little eager for a surface that didn’t move and rumble beneath them. Richie grabbed onto the rope again, while his stomach let loose their butterflies, and his joints relaxed from being clenched so hard.

“See? That wasn’t so bad!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

Eddie wasn’t hyperventilating, or curled up on his side in the snow - a good sign. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, while Richie did his best to look mock offended. “You steered alright, Richie. If we do it from that spot every time we should be good.”

“See? And you doubted me.” More smug than he deserved to be, Richie slung an arm around Eddie’s neck, nearly tripping him. They hauled Lynda back up the slope, and did it all over again.

“Should we have a philosophical debate, like Calvin and Hobbes?” Richie called over his shoulder as they tipped off their starting point.

“I dunno if that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters,” Eddie went on as they whizzed through the trees, “what do you know about philosophy?”

“Lots!”

“Well I don’t.”

“Then I’ll teach you, and that’ll be the debate.”

“Second, you don’t want to be like Calvin and Hobbes when they sled, Richie. You know at the end of every comic, Calvin and Hobbes start arguing, fly through the air and-”

A thick crack sent the Flexible Flyer - well, flying - arcing over a shallow rock ledge Richie had managed to avoided before. The two of them lost their grip far too easily, airborne for a half a second that felt so much longer. Long enough for Richie to register his dad would kill him if he broke Lynda.

The impact threw him flat into the snow, harsh and hard, the icy powder biting into his face as his frames dug into his skin. The wind got knocked out of Richie for a moment, and he squirmed, choking, until there was air in his lungs again, and he could sit up without dying.

If it wasn’t Lynda, then he was definitely toast for his specs, he decided, when he pulled them off his face to find thin cracks splintering the glass. Richie whined, more bummed out than sore, really, and lumbered to his feet to survey the damage on his beloved sled.

“Ow ow ow.”

Pausing in his literal tracks, Reddie shuffled in the snow to find Eddie hunched over in on himself. He was breathing hard, tilting back, and forth.

“Asthma?” Richie asked, wide-eyed as a new panic set in.

Eddie shook his head, eyes screwed shut. “I landed funny on a tree root. Over there. I think I sprained my knee.”

“Lemme see.” Richie knelt down beside him, hovering hesitantly. Eventually he worked up the nerve to grab Eddie’s leg with his gloved hand - only to reel back, when Eddie howled louder than he’d ever heard before.

“That hurts!” Eddie snapped, tears dotted along his eyelashes.

“Holy shit,” Richie breathed, wary. “For real, Eds?”

“You think I’m making it up?”

“Well you’ve freaked out about smaller stuff!”

“I’m freaking out because it hurts so bad!” Eddie swore, mouth twisting up on itself as he fingered his knee. He whimpered, a small, scared sound. Richie had never heard anything like it before.

“Maybe we should take you to the doctor,” he said, forcing a single logical thought into his head.

“No!” Eddie’s head flew up, eyes wide. “No, I hate the doctor. They’re just going to call my mom and she’s gonna pitch a fit, and I won’t be able to hang out with you guys ever again! If we go to the pharmacy we can get stuff to make a splint. I can hide it under my pants and pretend I fell at home, later.”

“I don’t have any money, though!”

“Neither do I!”

“Then why would you suggest the pharmacy?!”

Richie thought long and hard, jarred by every pained noise that left Eddie’s mouth. No Mrs. K, no doctor, no pharmacy. Where the hell were they supposed to go?

A new idea dawned on Richie, and he gasped. “Wait, we could go to my parents’ house. They know how shitty your mom is, they’ll know what to do.”

Eddie stared at Richie, suspicion written across his distraught face. “You think so?”

“Yeah, my dad could probably figure something out. He’s a doctor.”

“He’s a dentist, Richie.”

“Everyone’s a critic, ain’t they?” Glancing around, Richie eventually spotted Lynda through his broken glasses, and went to retrieve her where she had capsized. Wasn’t broken, thankfully - but that was the least of his worries.

“I can pull you out on the sled,” he explained, situating her rightside up, before returning to Eddie, beckoning with his hands. “Come on. You can prop your leg up.” The nerves must have been getting to Richie, because he finished off with his best cowboy. “Don’t you worry, little lady, doc’s gon’ be ‘round to patch you up real soon.”

Eddie stared glumly, only to wince and his as he moved to get on the sled a second later. Richie’s guiding arms could only help so much. Each noise was like hot and cold, in regard to how much pain was being inflicted. A small breath was cold, and screaming OW OW OW was hot hot hot.

They eventually got Eddie set up with his leg propped in front of him, the other tucked under his butt. Like that, there wasn’t any room for Richie, but he had to pull anyway.

“Hold on tight,” he chirped, heaving the flimsy rope to drag Eddie, and Lynda, out of the Barrens.

There was no reasonable way to leave the way they came, which meant they had to take the long way out, following the more gradual incline of the land, past the sewer. Hauling over snow-laden grasses, rumbling across stones embedded in the ground, Richie really put his arms to work. He thought just Lynda had been bad - add a hundred pounds of injured pipsqueak, and it was downright torture. His knuckles ached in their grip, and the muscles in his arms seared. But hey - at least his knees were in tip-top shape.

“What did I tell you?” he mentioned at some point, huffing for breath as his heart worked itself into a tizzy behind his ribcage. Now that D in gym class made perfect sense. “We didn’t hit a tree, did we?”

Eddie’s pained groan was answer enough. Eventually they got themselves up and out of the Barrens, back into Derry proper, where the path was even and flat. Still, there was a whole neighborhood to traverse before they reached Richie’s house.

“You gotta admit, it was pretty fun, right Eds?” Richie asked hopefully. The silence behind him was deafening. All he could ever hope for, at any point in his life, was a reaction. Struggled noises didn’t really fit the bill. “And someday, we’ll laugh about this. How you hurt your knee riding Lynda Carter.”

“I’m not laughing about it now,” Eddie grit out.

“Well, we could laugh about something else.”

“No jokes. My stomach hurts.”

“Jeez, your knee hurts, your stomach hurts, there’s always something with you, isn’t there?”

Wondering, maybe for the first time, if he had gone to far, Richie decided he was better off shutting up - also for the first time.

They finally came upon the Tozier house, and Richie picked up the pace for the home stretch, boots grinding into the asphalt road as he hauled ass to his own front lawn. He went up the driveway, and “parked” Lynda in the yard (which Mom had said not to do, but desperate times and all that). Eddie grunted and grimaced all the way up, even with Richie taking one arm over his shoulder and his own hand around Eddie’s waist, so he could limp his way to the front door.

Before they could even make an attempt at the porch steps, though, the door flew open. Richie’s mom stood there in her thick Christmas sweater, a rag from some abandoned chore in her hand.

It didn’t take much to assess the situation, with Eddie propped up on Richie, his leg suspended in front of him.

“Richard, what did you do?”

“Eddie hurt his leg!” It’s not my fault rose to the tip of Richie’s tongue, but he swallowed it back. He wasn’t a hundred percent on that statement yet. He was pretty sure the anxious feeling rattling around in his skull was some form of guilt anyway.

Mrs. Tozier helped Eddie inside, over to the couch in the parlor no one was supposed to go in unless guests were over. Without any hesitation, with what Richie could only call Mom Mode fully activated, she took his boots off and rolled the leg of his snow pants up as gingerly and carefully as possible.

Richie’s eyes flared wide, his pulse picking up at the sight of the bulbous purple bruise spread across Eddie’s knee. He flicked his gaze into the corner of the room, where everything was much less grotesque.

“Oh no,” Mrs. Tozier murmured, trying not to touch Eddie’s knee too much. The red spread across his freckled face had little to do with the snow now, Richie figured, but Eddie set his jaw all the same.

“I think it’s broken. We’ll have to call your mom, Eddie. She can drive you to the hospital.”

“What? No!” Richie and Eddie said - almost in unison.

Mrs. Tozier gave each of them a look (the one for her son slightly more scathing). “We can’t do anything here, Richie. Eddie, you need a doctor. You need to get an X-ray, and probably some kind of cast.”

“Then what if we take him to the doctor?” Richie asked.

“They would still have to call Mrs. Kasprak,” his mom answered, almost exasperated. “And we don’t need to be at the hospital right now. I’m sorry, Richie. Eddie is his mother’s responsibility, not ours.”

She moved to leave, only for Richie to fling himself at her, clutching around her waist.

“You can’t do that, Mom! Mrs. K is gonna ruin his life! He’s going to be stuck with her big fat ass all winter break and not be allowed to leave the house!”

“Richard! Language!”

“It’s fine, Richie.”

Who would have thought it would be Eddie to stop the commotion. Richie paused, still latched onto his mom like a baby koala.

He expected Eddie to look so small and sad from the couch, what with the latest turn of events, but the opposite was true. He sat up, leg out, expression hard. If his knee weren’t busted, Richie thought he might shoot up and march right over.

“I gotta go to the doctor with my mom, that’s all there is too it.” Eddie huffed, fingers fiddling in his lap. “We tried, but if my leg is broken then I can’t really hide it. Thanks for getting me out of the Barrens, though. You really helped me out there.”

“The Barrens?” Mrs. Tozier demanded. “You brought your sled to the Barrens? What’s wrong with you, look what happened! Not to mention how much we paid for it, not for you to go crashing into things!”

“It was my idea, Mrs. Tozier,” Eddie chimed in, lying as easily as he would to his own mother. “I told Richie we should go play in the Barrens. It’s always so crowded behind the library. I thought it would be more fun.”

Richie stared at Eddie in disbelief. Eddie stared back, confident, despite the pain that twitched on his face.

Behind them, Mrs. Tozier sighed. “We’ll talk about this later, Richie. Right now, I’m going to call Eddie’s mom.”

She slipped right out of his grasp, striding away, into the kitchen. Richie stood there defeated. He hadn’t felt sorrier in his entire life.

Mrs. Kaspbrak came soon enough, spittle flying as she shrieked. Not just at Richie, but at his mom, as Eddie waited by, face turned away. She took him away, far away, to the hospital - and after that, home. His piss poor excuse for a home, where he stayed until school was back in session. Richie got grounded for playing in the Barrens for about the same amount of time.

He never rode Lynda Carter again.

***

“I felt so fucking betrayed by my mom that day,” Richie explained, shaking his head, laughing when the memory took a somber turn he had not been prepared for. “I couldn’t believe she did that. But I guess, in the end, I sorta betrayed you more, huh?”

“What?” Eddie asked, face twisting up.

“I delivered you into the hands of the enemy! I told you you wouldn’t have to go to the doctor or your mom and look what I did. I was a real snot-nosed brat.” Richie stared at the sled - Lynda - accusingly. As if she had made the decision to go play in a dangerous place.

Suddenly, Richie’s gaze was jarred by Eddie’s hands, forcing their eyes to meet.

“Don’t be stupid, Rich. We were kids.” His gaze turned a little soft. “I broke my knee, we couldn’t just avoid the hospital, as much as we wanted to back then. It was a mistake, yeah, and definitely your fault-”

“Thanks,” Richie said, voice muffled by the squish of his cheeks as he stooped down in front of Eddie.

“But I still agreed to it. And I turned out okay.”

“But your mom. I just wish there was something me or my parents could have done-”

“There wasn’t.” Eddie shook his head. “We were kids, we were at the mercy of everything. We didn’t have control over anything except where we went to fucking sled. And I was my mom’s responsibility, even if she was shitty about it. Not yours, or your moms.”

“Funny,” Richie mumbled. “My mom said something like that, I think.”

“Probably because she was an adult for way longer than you.”

“You callin’ my mama old?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and tilted forward. Their lips met, easing Richie’s troubled mind. His boyfriend was right, anyway - there was little they could have done back then. You couldn’t exactly call CPS on a mom keeping her son home about his broken leg.

“Besides,” Eddie said when they parted. “Mom’s in a retirement community, and it’s just you and me, now. Together forever.”

Richie gasped, delighted. “You’re right! That means you’re my responsibility.”

Eddie frowned. “That’s not what I-”

“Worry not!” Setting Lynda down, Richie clutched his arms around Eddie and swooped him into a dip, his boyfriend yelling all the while. “I will protect you with my life, fair sir! The evil, wretched, corpulent Sonia-beast can never touch us again!”

Richie pulled Eddie in for a sweet, enveloping kiss, the annoyed noises eventually dying down until there was nothing but soft lips, and an eased conscience.

Hell. Maybe one day, Lynda Carter would ride again.

#reddie #reddielibrary #writing team #prompt fill #quixoticquest

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theycallmebeccawrites · 6 years ago

Text

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 10

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: n/a

Episode Summary: This episode takes place in October 2013. Chris, Ellie and Scott go to Boston for the World Series.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

The Chris and Ellie series is primarily chronological. It begins with a flash forward to 2016 and has a few other scenes in the future. However, the majority of their story is told in chronological order starting in 2013 and going through 2017. Each episode starts with a date to help you place it within the story.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 9.5

Episode 10: Red Sox Win!

October 19, 2013

Ellie sat on the edge of the couch, biting her lower lip as she watched Game 6 of the American League Championship Series (ALCS) between the Red Sox and the Detroit Tigers. She, Chris and Scott had spent nearly every evening during the last two weeks in front of the TV watching the Red Sox advanced first through the American League Division Series (ALDS) and now through the ALCS. Tonight, however, it was just her and Chris as Scott had had a scheduling conflict.

The Sox were up 5 to 2 on the Tigers thanks to a grand slam in the bottom of the seventh inning. If they could hold onto the lead, they would advance to the World Series; if they couldn't, they'd be playing a seventh game tomorrow.

Chris sat quietly next to Ellie, his eyes focused on the TV just like hers. Both of their phones sat on the coffee table in front of them, each opened to a text message to Scott, who they had been taking turns updating on the game.

The eighth inning came and went in quick fashion, three up and three down for both teams. The Sox were just three outs away from going to the World Series. The top of the ninth started with two quick outs, but then one of the Detroit players got on base.

Full of nervous energy, Ellie let out a slow breath as the Detroit player took second base. She moved her hands from her lap and shook them out.

As she made to put her hands back in her lap, she felt Chris grab her left hand. He tucked it into his much larger hand and squeezed it. A shiver raced up Ellie's spine as her eyes moved away from the TV and to their hands. His hand was strong and warm, but the way he held hers was gentle and oddly comforting.

The sound of the ball hitting the bat met Ellie's ears and she yanked her eyes back to the TV.

"Foul ball," Chris breathed. "One strike away."

As they watched, the pitcher threw the ball and the batter swung, missing the ball entirely.

The roar of the Fenway Faithful echoing from the TV as Chris and Ellie both jumped up from their seats on the couch to celebrate after he let go of her hand.

"WE'RE GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES!" she exclaimed. She gave Chris a hug and then turned to grab Daisy by the face and planted a smooch on her dog's head.

"I should probably -" Chris stopped talking as they heard the front door slam close and quick footsteps above.

"I'M HERE! I'M HERE!" they heard Scott shout. He appeared on the steps a second later and cursed when he saw that the game had already ended. "Damnit. I ran for nothing."

"We're going to the World Series!" Ellie exclaimed. "I'd run for that and I hate running!"

"Can't say I blame you," Scott said and he held his hands out in front of his chest as if mimicking the size of her chest. "That must hurt."

Ellie flipped him off and threw a pillow at him. She made to lunge over the couch, but Chris grabbed her from behind.

"Let's celebrate together, shall we?" he chuckled. "Scott, grab us a couple beers, would you?"

"You can let go of me now," Ellie said half-heartedly. Truth was she didn't actually mind the fact that the Chris was holding on to her, his strong arms wrapped around her waist.

"Oh, right," he said. He let go of her and backed up slightly.

"I can't believe I fucking missed this game," Scott muttered as he brought over beers for them. "I am never promising to do something for someone during the postseason again." He twisted off the lid of his beer. "I missed a freaking grand slam. A grand slam!"

Chris twisted off the caps to his and Ellie's beers and then held his beer out. "To the Red Sox!" he toasted. "May they win the World Series!"

"To the Red Sox!" Ellie and Scott chorused. They carefully clanked their bottles before taking sips.

The three of them sat down on the couch and watched the clubhouse celebration and postgame interviews. In between that footage, the station showed the highlights from the game, which both pleased Scott and made him groan about how he'd missed the game.

As the footage shifted to the crowded streets around Fenway, Chris and Scott both sighed.

"Makes me wish we were in Boston right now," Scott muttered. "Remember 2004? We couldn't get tickets to the game so we went to a bar near the ballpark and watched it there?"

"You kept getting carded," Chris said with a chuckle. "He had just turned 21, like the month before. So he was super excited to flash his driver's license to anyone who asked for it."

Ellie let her eyes shift from one brother to the other. She knew it wouldn't be as fun if they went back to Boston while she stayed here, but it was their home. "Maybe you two should go back there," she suggested. "I'm sure your mom would love to see you."

"And miss watching the games with you?" Chris asked, looking at her.

"Not on your life," Scott finished for his brother. "Win or lose, you're stuck with us for the rest of the post season."

Four nights later, the trio once again sat on the couch, this time waiting for the start of Game 1 of the World Series featuring the Red Sox vs the St. Louis Cardinals. Thanks to the American League winning the All-Star Game, the Red Sox had home field advantage meaning that they got to host the first two games of the World Series. The next three games would take place in St. Louis. Since it was a best of seven games series, it would return to Boston, if needed, for games six and seven.

With all of Boston behind them, the Red Sox pulled to an early lead, scoring three runs in the first inning and two more in the second. Four scoreless innings for both teams followed the early scores and it wasn't until the bottom of the seventh that the Red Sox added to their lead with David "Big Papi" Ortiz hitting a two run home run. They scored one more run in the bottom of the eighth to take an 8 to 0 lead going into the ninth inning. The Cardinals managed to get a run in the ninth, but it was too little too late.

Game 2, the night after the big win, and Game 3, a couple nights later, were both losses for the Red Sox. In Game 2, they lost 4 to 2, unable to score after the Cardinals put three runs on the board in the seventh inning. After a day for travel, Game 3 took place in St. Louis and the Red Sox managed to tie the game up in the eighth inning, only to have the Cardinals win it in the ninth.

With the Cardinals up in the series two games to one, the Red Sox had to win at least the next three games to win the World Series. If they lost one game, they'd have to take the series to Game 7 to try win. If they lost two games, it would all be over for them and the Cardinals would win the World Series.

They won Game 4 with a score of 4 to 2, managing to get their runs early and keep the Cardinals from scoring. They took the series lead three games to two, the next night, after beating St. Louis 3 to 1.

It was during Game 5 that Chris brought up the idea of them going to Boston for Game 6.

"Do you think you can get the time off from the bookstore?" he asked Ellie.

"Wait, you're inviting me to go with you guys?" she asked.

"Of course!" Scott laughed. "Did you really think we'd leave you here by yourself?"

"Can you still get tickets for the game?" she asked.

"I'm trying," Chris told her. "But even if we can't, we'd still be in Boston and could be part of the celebration."

"Then yes, I'd love to go!" Ellie nodded her head. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow," Chris told her. "I'll go buy the tickets."

Less than twenty four hours later, Ellie sat next to Scott with Chris across the aisle from them as their plane landed in Boston. They'd flown in First Class and she had enjoyed all the free perks that had been offered to her, much to the brothers' amusement.

"Mom is picking us up," Chris told her as they made their way through the airport thirty minutes later. They had all packed in carry-on bags; her because she was only there for a couple days, and the brothers because they kept clothes at their mom's house. "Normally we'd grab a taxi, but mom insisted on picking us up."

"Obviously she loves you more than she loves us," Scott chuckled.

"I told her I'd bring her some new romance novels," Ellie shrugged then with a smirk added. "Extra steamy ones, too."

The brothers made sounds of disgust as they made their way out to the pickup area.

"That was just mean," Scott muttered.

"I thought you two had relationships with your mom where you could talk about anything," Ellie said, sweetly. "She doesn't tell you about what she reads?"

"If it's anything like the trashy novels you leave lying around the house, I don't want to know," Chris muttered.

"I see mom," Scott announced.

Ellie waited until Scott was out of earshot before she muttered, "Funny how those books always end up disappearing for a day or two and then reappearing in the strangest places."

Chris's face flushed slightly and he put his hand on the small of Ellie's back to guide her to his mom's minivan. Scott had already claimed the front seat by the time they got there, so Chris helped Ellie into the van then loaded their suitcases in the back. He closed the back and then climbed into the open sliding door.

"Hi mom," he greeted as he closed the door and then put his seatbelt on.

"I was just telling Scott and Ellie that I am so excited the three of you are here," Lisa beamed at him from the front seat.

While Chris, Scott and Lisa chatted, Ellie watched out the window as they made their way to the town they lived in. She'd never been to the East Coast before, but had always dreamed about it.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, Chris, you had a delivery this morning," Lisa told him. "It was from the Red Sox's front office." The others in the van stopped breathing waiting to find out where she was going with this. "As you know, you've given me permission to open such things for you while you're out of Boston."

"Mom!" Scott whined. "Just tell us already!"

"Oh, you do ruin all my fun," she said, shaking her head. "They've provided you with three passes for tomorrow's game."

"Oh my god!" Ellie gasped, slapping her hands over her mouth.

"Breathe," Chris chuckled from next to her.

"I'm going to Fenway Park," she whispered, constantly reminding herself to breathe. "I'm going to see the Red Sox play." She breathed. "And they're going to win the World Series and I'm going to be there."

"Yes you are," Chris smiled. "And Scott and I will make sure one of us catches you if you pass out."

A short time later, they arrived at the Evans' family home and it was everything that Ellie had imagined it would be: warm, welcoming and the perfect place to grow up. It reminded her of the house she'd grown up in and it made her feel a little homesick.

"I just realized I didn't tell anyone other than work that I was going to Boston," she said after Chris and showed her to the guest room. "I should probably call my parents at least. Maybe my cousin Phoenix, too."

"Go right ahead," Chris told her. "I'll be in the kitchen helping ma get dinner ready." Ellie quirked an eyebrow at his words. "Ok, so I'll be in the kitchen keeping the kids out of ma's hair while she gets dinner ready."

"That's what I thought," Ellie laughed.

After he left the room, Ellie called her mom and told her where she was. Her mom was excited for her, but reminded her to be cautious at the same time. They talked for a few more minutes before Ellie hung up and called Phoenix. Her cousin was thrilled that she'd gone away with Chris for the weekend, even if his entire family was there too, and encouraged her to take advantage of the fact that they were someplace new.

Once she'd finished her phone calls, Ellie ventured out into the heart of the house and found Chris holding his niece in one arm while having a sword fight, using empty paper towel rolls as their weapons, with his nephews. The sight made her laugh, but also made her heart tighten a little bit. He looked so at home with his niece and nephews.

Dinner was a loud affair with all ten of them around the large dining room table; another thing that reminded Ellie of home. Instead of feeling homesick, however, she found herself enjoying it. The four Evans siblings teased each other lovingly with the brothers even pulling their brother-in-law into the mix with a couple well timed jokes. He dished it right back at them and soon they were all laughing again.

By the time dinner was done, Ellie was struggling to stay awake. They'd gotten up early for their flight and the jet lag was catching up to her. She said her goodnights to the others then made her way back to the guest room. She showered and then got into bed and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

She slept in until ten the next morning and woke up feeling refreshed. She got dressed and then ventured into the main part of the house, finding it nearly empty as the kids had gone to school and daycare while Chris's sisters, brother-in-law and mom had gone to work. She found Chris and Scott in the living room reading.

"We were wondering when you were going to get up," Chris smiled at her.

"I was going to wake you up two hours ago, but he wouldn't let me," Scott told her.

"Mom thought you might like to go see some Boston sights before the game," Chris told her.

"I'd love to," Ellie nodded.

"Did you bring a heavier jacket than the one you wore yesterday?" Chris asked.

"It's my heaviest jacket that I had in LA," Ellie stated.

"That's what mom figured," Chris said. "She left a jacket out for you to wear today."

A couple hours later, Ellie found herself being guided around Boston with the Evans' brothers as her guide. She quickly caught on to the fact that their knowledge of history was a bit iffy and that she couldn't believe half of what came out of their mouths. Nevertheless, they kept her entertained as they led her through the Boston Commons.

When they came upon the finish line for the Boston Marathon on Boylston Street, they joined a few others that had come to pay their respects to those who had been killed and injured in the bombing earlier that year.

With a few hours to go before the gates opened at the ballpark, the brothers lead Ellie to the small coffee shop their aunt owned. Not wanting to cause a scene in the front of the store, they cut through the alley behind the shop and knocked on the backdoor. Their aunt must have been aware they were stopping by, because she greeted them with hugs and then motioned them up the back stairs to apartment she lived in.

Upon arriving into the small second floor apartment, they found a small tray of goodies and a thermos of coffee waiting for them. They each ate one of the treats before finding a place to lay down for a quick nap. Scott claimed the bed while Ellie took the sofa and Chris stretched out on the floor.

They slept for nearly an hour and a half before the alarm on Chris's phone went off. They took turns filling paper to go cups with the coffee their aunt had provided and then helped themselves to a couple treats before they said their goodbyes and thank yous.

Yawkey Way was already bustling with activity when they arrived at the ballpark and they joined the masses that had already gathered there. They got in line for some food and drinks then found a vacant space to eat while they listened to the live music and people watched.

After they finished eating, they followed the steady stream of people into the ballpark and made their way to their seats on one of the upper levels. Ellie kept her eyes open wide as she took in the sights, sounds and smells of the ballpark and the brothers ended up sandwiching her between them to keep her from getting lost in the crowd, Chris leading the way while Scott brought up the rear.

A Fenway Park guide lead them to the suite and Ellie was shocked when she realized it was the Owner's Suite. She plastered a smile on her face as she was introduced to more people than she knew she could remember the names of. Several of them asked how she'd become a Red Sox fan and she shared the short version. The fifth time it happened, Chris took pity on her and explained that it was her first time at Fenway Park and that she had been dying to go out and see the park.

He and Scott led her through the crowded suite and out to the outdoor seats. Ellie felt tears pool in the corners of her eyes as she looked out at Fenway Park. It was everything she imagined it would be and more. She could feel the history of the place and the nervous excitement that was building as the fans filed in.

As the game started, Chris, Ellie and Scott grabbed seats outside and settled in. It was a crisp 49 degrees Fahrenheit as the game got underway and they kept warm by clutching hot cups of coffee. The first two innings didn't give them much to celebrate, but the Red Sox scored three runs in the bottom of third and the ballpark was rocking.

The energy in the ballpark was sizzling just an inning later when the Sox scored three more runs to lead the Cardinals 6 to 0 going into the fifth. It wasn't until the seventh inning that St. Louis managed to get on the board.

Chris, Scott and Ellie sang along loudly with the rest of Fenway as "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" played over the loudspeakers during the seventh inning stretch. They sang again during the break in the eighth inning as all of Fenway broke into "Sweet Caroline."

As the ninth inning got underway, the Fenway Faithful were on their feet cheering their "Band of Bearded Brothers" on. The first two batters hit fly balls to left field, but both were caught. The Cardinals' final batter struck out swinging.

The crowd erupted as the final out was made and the game ended with the Red Sox winning the World Series; their third in nine years.

Chris, Ellie and Scott cheered along with them, tears running down their faces. Ellie gave Scott a big hug and then turned to give Chris a hug. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up, so her feet were off the ground.

Ellie stared into the face of the man who had become one of her best friends and let her eyes linger on his lips for a moment before she flicked them up to his eyes.

Chris licked his lips and then leaned in, letting his lips brush hers gently. He started to pull away, but she pressed her lips back against his. He lowered her feet back to the ground, so she could support herself, and then he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue in between her lips.

Episode 11

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thetravelerwrites · 7 years ago

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Tumble (Rabbitman)

Rating: Teen Relationship: Female Human Reader x Male Rabbitman Additional Tags: Exophilia, Rabbitman, Rabbit Monster, Interspecies Romance, Monster Love, SFW Content Warnings: Racism, Xenophobia, Bigotry, Speciesism Words: 4667

During an age where humans struggle to accept monsters after they have decided to reveal themselves to the public, one particular subset of creature faces more backlash than others, which the reader finds out the hard way.

The Traveler's Masterlist

One hundred and seventy six years ago, monsters, creatures, and beasts of all kinds finally decided to stop living in the shadows and made the collective decision to reveal themselves to the human race. Technology was advancing, their territories were shrinking, and the only hope they had to survive was to adapt and try to live alongside humanity.

A few of the races were fairly well known already. Orcs, centaurs, reptilians, that sort of thing, otherwise known as the “established” races. They had been living among humans for eons.

It was the ones who lived in forests and caves, the ones who liked their privacy, the hidden beings, that had finally chosen to declare themselves: dragons, naga, gargoyles, many types of fae and beast-people, and other such antisocial creatures. They came to be referred to as Neogons, an amalgamation of the Greek néous agónes, meaning “new races.” Though, the idea that they were new was laughable. Many of them predated humanity by millennia.

At first, a lot of people took it badly. There were riots and protests, people foaming at the mouth to deny these creatures any civil rights, or as it was still known at the time, human rights. It took years of fighting in the courts, assessing and reassessing what it meant to be “sentient” and “intelligent” and “a person,” but finally, after rigorous tests and examinations, it was declared that any creature that could prove itself sentient would be granted the same rights that humans and the Established already enjoyed.

After a while, people’s attitudes started to shift. It wasn’t all that strange to see a wide variety of Neogons walking through city squares these days. Homes and buildings were modified for the convenience of larger and smaller beings. They found jobs and developed hobbies the same way humans did, and it became normal to see them everywhere.

Except, the strangest thing was that, while the more monstrous creatures were accepted fairly quickly, like hydras, phoenixes, and griffins and the like, the ones that weren’t accepted all that quickly were the ones called “beast-people.” This referred to any creature that had humanoid characteristics: Merfolk, satyrs, harpies, minotaurs, and similar types seemed to be less widely approved of.

It was particularly bad for those that looked almost human. The ones with the normal human figure, who stood up straight and had proportional arms and legs, but had fur and tails, horns or wings, ears and eyes that didn’t suit a human. The ones that you’d never be able to tell weren’t human if you talked to them on the phone. Human beings just didn’t like the idea of sharing their features with beasts, it seemed. Even now, even with laws in place to protect them, they still faced prejudice and hatred.

It had never really affected you before. The little town you grew up in had a few Established non-human families, but for the most part, it was nearly all human. It seemed odd to you that the older citizens seemed to take pride in that, but you shrugged it off. It wasn’t your problem.

Not until a Rabbitman moved to town and opened up a coffee shop. The atmosphere of the town turned cold very quickly. There were a lot of folks who didn’t care, but the ones who did seemed to outnumber them.

Again, it didn’t seem like that big a deal to you. It was none of your business, anyway.

One chilly morning, as you were coming to the end of your normal before-dawn run, you realized his shop was open for the first time. That was a nice change; most other shops didn’t open until seven, which was an hour and a half away. Gratefully, you ducked inside.

It was wonderfully warm and smelled like chocolate and cinnamon inside. He was behind the counter, setting out plates in the display case, and smiled as you came in.

He had soft looking, pale grey fur, brown eyes that took up the entire span of visible space under his eyelids, and longish ears, maybe a handspan and a half long, sticking straight up from his head. His face was slightly elongated and the slitted nostrils of his nose twitched just about constantly, making his whiskers tremble. He wore a simple white button up shirt and black slacks with an apron over both. He had the normal posture of a human, if long and gangly, but you saw a fluffy tail sticking out of a specially tailored cut in the back of his trousers.

“Welcome!” He said. “What can I get for you, miss?”

“Uh,” You said, rubbing your hands against your numb face, looking at the case. “Well, it sort of defeats the purpose of the run I just took, but that cinnamon roll looks amazing.” You pointed to it. “Can I have that and a non-fat caramel latte?”

“You got it, miss,” He said, reaching down and pulling the plate from the case. He turned to put a sleeve on a cup and raised a sharpie to write your name, then paused, looking around at the empty shop.

“I guess I don’t need to ask you your name,” He said with a laugh, gesturing around.

You told him anyway, and he wrote it down with a smile.

“You just moved to the area recently, huh?” You asked him as he brewed your latte.

“Yep, getting settled in,” He said.

“Why here, anyway? No one moves here besides retirees.”

He snorted. “An ex-boyfriend of mine from school talked about this place endlessly. It seemed nice, so when I got enough money to open my own business, I thought, why not here?”

“How are you liking it?”

His right ear twitched slightly, but he smiled. “It’s been good so far, if a little slow. I’m hoping business will pick up further into the season.”

“I hope so,” You told him with a smile, and his own widened. “So, is the sign out front for real? Is your name actually Tumble?”

He laughed out loud. “Yeah, it’s a nickname. I was a competitive gymnast in college.”

“Hey! I did competitive gymnastics in high school!” You said. “Small world.”

“Sure is,” He agreed, though you couldn’t help but notice his voice was a little strained. He finished making your drink and handed it to you. “Enjoy,” He said, still smiling.

“Thanks,” You told him. “See you around.”

He nodded, then went back to plating.

It became a daily ritual, you going for a early morning run and stopping by his shop for breakfast and a coffee. He made you your latte and you picked out a pastry, and the two of you talked for the amount of time it took for the latte to be made. Sometimes, he would have the latte ready for you by the time you came in, but he would still chat with you for a few minutes while you ate your breakfast.

Over time, you couldn’t help but notice that he never seemed very busy. You could see his shop from the window of the shoe store you worked in across the street, and you only ever saw a handful of people going in and out each day. You wondered if he could keep his doors open if he didn’t have more business. You didn’t understand why he wasn’t more popular; his pastries were amazing and he was always quick and courteous.

It didn’t sink in until one morning when you stopped by the shop and found him crouched down outside, scrubbing his front door. His ears were pressed flat against the back of his head in a gesture you could only guess was dismay. Three big words had been written on the window of the door in dripping red paint, words that made your chest tighten.

Get out, animal.

“Tumble?” You called. He jumped, startled, and looked around at you.

“Oh, miss,” He said, his voice unsteady. “I apologize, but I’m not open yet. If you could come back a little later, I’d be happy to make your order.”

“Tumble,” You said, bending down to put your hand on his bony shoulder. “What the hell happened?”

“Nothing to be concerned about,” He said, attempting nonchalance. “Young pranksters, I imagine.”

“Can I help?”

“No, miss,” He said, shaking his head fervently. “It’s best if you come back later.”

“But I--”

“Please,” He said in a desperate undertone. “I don’t want them coming after you for being nice to me.”

“Who?” You asked, unnerved.

“Please, miss,” He said insistently. “You should go.”

You lips formed a grim line, looking at him hunched there, quivering with tension.

“I’ll be back later,” You told him. He nodded without looking at you, continuing to scrub furiously at the door.

On your lunch break, you went back to his shop to see him. He’d managed to clean most of the paint, but there was still flecks of red here and there.

He looked up with a tired smile when you came in. “Welcome back, miss,” He said. “Your usual?”

“Um… sure,” You said, frowning with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, miss, I’m alright,” He said. “It was just a vandal. Not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, stopping him by putting a hand on his arm. “You seemed really upset earlier.”

He shook his head tersely, subtly moving his arm so that he was out of your reach. “I was just shook up. I’m alright now.”

“Okay,” You said uncertainly, watching him make your latte. “Tumble?”

“Hmm?” He hummed with his back to you, putting your order together.

“Are you okay? Like, the business, I mean? It’s just that I can’t help but notice you don’t get many customers.”

He sighed, but said, “It’s normal for new businesses to be a bit slow at first. I’m good at what I do. People will see that eventually.”

“I hope so,” You said.

He smiled at you when he handed you your drink. “At least I know I have one faithful customer.”

You smiled back. “Always.”

Later that day, while you were working, you saw him close up shop across the street and head for your store. He was surprised to see you when he walked in, his whiskers twitching.

“Oh!” He said. “Hello, miss. I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Yep,” You said brightly. “Need some shoes?”

“I’m afraid so, miss” He said, lifting his foot. You noticed a rather large hole in the sole of the otherwise extremely shiny round-toe black brogues. “I’ve put it off for as long as I can, but I’m liable to get a fungus walking around with these.”

You laughed. “Let’s see if I can get you fixed up.”

You turned to lead him to a fitting chair, and noticed your boss glaring at you from the counter. You frowned in confusion and just a hint of self-awareness, but you brushed it aside to assist Tumble.

He sat obediently and pulled off his shoes and socks so that you could measure his foot. You had to admit, he had the most adorable toes you’d ever seen; all fluffy with itty-bitty claws at the end. Best of all, he had toe beans. You lifted his ankle to place his foot on the measuring plate, and couldn’t help but notice that his fur felt like feather down, so soft and warm that you really had to stuff down an urge to stroke it.

“So, what kind of shoe are you looking for? Another pair of brogues or something more daring?”

He snorted. “Oh, I think college sapped all the daring I ever had, if any,” He replied. “Another pair of brogues is fine.”

You went off to find a pair similar to the ones he had worn, and returned with a near identical pair. They were pretty rigid, and you asked him to put his socks back on while you worked the heel a little, so they wouldn’t give him huge blisters. Once on, he seemed satisfied, and you took him to the counter.

Your boss still stood there, glaring at the pair of you with his arms crossed. Before you had the chance to ring Tumble up, your boss stopped you.

“I don’t think those shoes will work for you,” He told Tumble, scowling.

Tumble’s jaw set, but he said in a pleasant enough tone, “No, these seem perfectly suitable, and your employee here did an excellent job of finding just the right pair for me.”

“I think you should go elsewhere for your shoes,” Your boss insisted.

You could feel yourself getting angry. Tumble sighed and reached down to take off his new shoes, but you jerked him upright by his arm.

“Why?” You asked your boss. “Those shoes fit him fine. He’s a paying customer who found what he needed. Why does he have to go somewhere else?”

Tumble bent close and said in a low tone, “It’s not worth it, I’ll just go.”

“No!” You said. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to pay for your new shoes.”

“His money’s no good here,” Your boss said belligerently.

“What about mine, hmm?” You asked. You could feel your face getting flushed with rage. You pulled out your wallet and slapped down whatever was in it. “There. I paid for it.”

He swiped it off the counter. “I don’t need any money from a filthy animal-fucker!”

You felt like you'd been slapped in the face. “And I don’t need to work for a bigot!” You shouted, throwing your apron at him. “He’s not an animal!” You took Tumble’s hand and stomped toward the door. "I quit!"

“You walk out of that door with those shoes and it’s theft!” Your ex-boss shouted at you.

“Oh yeah?!” You shouted, swinging around to stare down your ex-boss with Tumble watching helplessly behind you. “How about I call up the better business bureau and report non-human discrimination? How about I hire one of those fae pro-bono lawyers who try cases just like this and take you for everything you’ve got? Would that be worth the price of a pair of shoes?”

He got very red in the face for a moment before screaming, “Get the hell out of my store! If you ever come back in here, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

“Oh, I promise you, I will never set foot in this tacky shithole! The owner is a fucking racist!”

You dragged Tumble by his arm and slammed the door behind the two of you. You marched across the street, pulling him like a ragdoll, until you were back at his coffee shop. You turned and held out your hand for the keys, and he gave them to you, slightly apprehensive. You unlocked the door, pushed him into a chair, and locked up again. You sat down opposite from him and crossed your arms and legs, shaking with fury.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, with him watching you nervously.

“I…” He began. “I’ll pay you back. For the shoes.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You said huffily. “Think of is as an apology for letting that dick talk to you like that.”

“But you didn’t let him,” He said in distress. “You lost your job because of me.”

“I didn’t lose my job because of you, Tumble,” You said with an agitated sigh. “I quit my job because my boss was an asshole.”

He attempted a smile, but it was a weak one. “There must be some way to repay you,” He said, his whiskers twitching. “I think I know of one.”

You couldn’t help but smile slyly. “I thought you were into guys.”

His mouth fell open and his ears stood straight up in surprise. He seemed at a loss for words. “Uh… No, I didn’t… Well, that is to say... I didn’t mean that. I could use an assistant, if you would like the job. I’ve been working eighteen hour days and I’m rather exhausted. Plus…” He sighed, a little defeated. “People don’t like buying from me. Maybe if I had a human as the face of the store, business might pick up." He paused, looking at you hard. “I hesitate to ask this of you, though, because I don’t want to draw any animosity toward you for befriending me.”

“I’m not worried about that--” You stopped, but he raised a hand to stop you.

“I am,” He said. “You’re the closest thing I’ve got to a friend in this town. I don’t want you to get hurt because your associating with me.”

You put a hand over his. “I can take care of myself, and I’m happy to take the job.”

He smiled as if in relief. “Wonderful. When can you start?”

“Well, considering I expected to be at work for another few hours, why not start right now?”

His grin widened. “Thank you, miss.”

You giggled. “You know, now that your my boss, you can use my name.”

He laughed and ducked his head. “Of course.”

Hiring you did seen to help, in fact. Tumble stayed in the kitchen area, making the pasties, and you worked the counter and greeted the customers. It was slow at first, but after a few weeks, people began to come in more regularly. You went from maybe a dozen a day to at least fifty, and it steadily got better as time went on. As long as Tumble stayed out of the public eye, business went well.

At the same time, you hated the fact that he had to hide in his own shop. You tried to get him to come out to the counter every once in a while, just for a few minutes, so that people would get used to him, but he’d just smile and shake his head and say that as long as business was good, there was no reason to stir up trouble. You told him it was stupid that trouble was synonymous with the owner of a business being seen in his own business. He just shrugged his shoulders.

You started noticing people staring at you. It wasn’t anyone you knew or had seen in the coffee shop, but you had seen them in town before. They would point at you and whisper to each other. At first, you ignored it, but eventually the words animal fucker drifted to your ears. You gritted your teeth and gripped your purse, determined not to let it get to you.

After working with Tumble for two months, you came to the shop one morning only to find that all of the windows had been smashed in. Tumble was inside, sweeping up the glass.

"Oh," He said when he noticed you standing there, gaping at the destruction. "Are you hungry? I can get you--"

“Don’t worry about that right now,” You said seriously. “What the hell happened?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” He said, rubbing his forehead.

“I am worried about it,” You told him. “Who did this?”

He didn’t answer, simply continued sweeping.

You sighed harshly and pulled the broom from his hands, making him sit down at one of his tables, which he did without resistance. He put his head in his hands while you made him a cup of coffee with cream and a drip or two of chocolate syrup, which you knew from your many early morning breakfasts together was his favorite. You set it down in front of him and he looked up with a sad smile.

“Did you call the police and file a report?” You asked him.

He took a sip of his coffee and shook his head. “There’s no point. They wouldn’t do anything about it even if I did.”

“What are you talking about?” You said. “This is unacceptable.”

“It’s nothing, it’s just a vandal,” He said dismissively. “I’m not hurt and nothing was taken.”

“Is that a likely thing to have happen?” You asked him shrilly.

He sipped his coffee and didn’t answer.

“What are you going to do?” You asked softly.

“I’m going to keep my shop open and deal with it,” He said solemnly. “I’ve already called to get the windows replaced. I’ve dealt with bigots my entire life. This isn't anything I haven't seen before.”

You frowned. “Did you really deal with stuff like this all the time before you came here?”

“Before I came, since I came,” He said, sighing. “It’s nothing new.”

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t figure out what to say. “Is there… Can I do anything to help?”

He rubbed his face. “Honestly, it would be better if you stopped working here and didn’t make friends with me. As much as I’ve enjoyed your company, being near to me will make you a target for people.”

You thought back to those assholes throwing around words like animal fucker and beastman’s whore. You straightened your spine.

“I don’t care about what other people do,” You said. “You’re my friend. I’m not going to abandon you because people are stupid and small-minded. I’m not scared of them. You shouldn’t be either.”

He stared into his coffee with a grim look on his face. “I wish I could be as brave as you.”

“I’ll be brave enough for the both of us,” You said.

His chin quivered and he covered his eyes with one hand, shielding his tears from you. You reached out and pulled him close, laying his forehead against your shoulder and stroking the back of his neck. He was so, so soft.

“I’m not giving up,” You whispered. “Don’t you, either.”

“I won’t,” He said in a shaking voice.

“Good,” You replied, patting his back firmly and pulling away. “Now let’s get this place cleaned up and open. It’s Wednesday; this place will be packed by noon.”

He smiled at you gently, then reached out and touched your cheek briefly before standing and taking up his broom again. He managed to get the windows replace just in time for the midday rush, and everything went smoothly from then on for that day.

That night, he handed you your paycheck for the week, saying apologetically, "It's not as much as it should be, but with the windows..."

You rubbed his upper arm comfortingly. "Don't you worry about it, okay? If we're gonna make this place work, it's gonna take time and sacrifice. You can worry about that stuff after that, okay?"

He nodded gratefully and gave you a very brief hug before bidding you goodnight and going into the back room to count receipts.

When you got home, your parents met you in the living room.

“Hon?” Your mom called out.

“Yeah, what’s up, you guys?” You asked. They both had really serious looks on their faces, which was unusual.

“We heard about what happened today at the shop,” Your dad began. “We… we think you should stop working there.”

“What?” You said. “No! Tumble is being harassed, I’m not just going to abandon him. He’s got no one else he can turn to in this town.”

“Honey,” You mom said, a simpering look on her face. “You know what people say about you, don’t you?”

Your chest tightened. “What exactly do people say, Mom?

“Well, that you’re…” She lowered her voice, as if she expected to be overheard. “That you’re sleeping with him.”

You narrowed your eyes and cocked your neck. “Um, well, I’m not, he’s my boss. And even if I were, I’m an adult. Why does it matter?”

“Honey, you know why,” Your mom said with exasperation. “He’s… not human.”

“So what?” You said. “Mrs. Davenport isn’t human, and you like her just fine.”

“Yes, but she’s an orc, honey,” Your dad said. “She’s not… you know…”

“No, I don’t know,” You said, crossing your arms. “Please, Dad, enlighten me.”

“She’s Established, she's not…” He cleared his throat and faltered under your glare. You mother looked at him in annoyance.

“She’s not an animal, honey,” Your mom said.

“Oh, my God,” You said, massaging your temples. “Tumble is not an animal, Mother! He thinks and speaks and he’s pretty fucking intelligent! He has a goddamn soul. I can’t say the same for either of you!”

“Don’t talk to us that way,” Your dad said angrily. “This has gone on long enough. We let you work there because you went and got yourself fired from the shoe store--”

“I quit,” You retorted.

“But enough is enough. We’re worried about what people are saying and we’re worried about what people will do if you keep hanging around that…” Your father huffed a breath out of his nose sharply. “You’re not working at that coffee shop anymore, and you’re not going to associate with that animal anymore.”

“You don’t have the right to tell me where I can and can’t work or who I can and can’t associate with! I’m not a child!”

“I have every right to! You live under my roof, don’t you?! You’re going to do what I tell you or you’re free to leave, since, as you say, you’re an adult now. I don’t have any room in my house for ungrateful brats who don’t know who the wrong kind of people are.”

You scoffed. “That is easily fucking rectified,” you said, then shot up the stairs, throwing clothes and toiletries into a bag with reckless abandon. Your father was shouting at you from downstairs, and your mother was trying to reason with you at the same time, but you ignored them both.

As you made your way back downstairs, your father tried to block your exit, but you pushed past him and walked out of the door.

Of course. Of course it would be raining. It didn’t matter. You walked as fast as your short legs would carry you to the shop, the raindrops hitting your skin like icy needles. It was a good forty five minutes from your house without the bus, which wasn’t running at this hour, but you didn’t care. You weren’t going back to that house.

Finally, soaked to the bone and freezing, shivering and sniveling, you made it back to the shop. The lights in the shop were off, of course, but the light in the upstairs apartment was on. There was an outside stairwell at the back of the building, and you trudged up it, standing under the meager awning as the rain hissed against the tin. You raised your hand and knocked.

It took a moment, but you heard his voice call out: “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” You called out hoarsely.

You heard several locks sliding open and the door swung inward, revealing his shocked face. You must have been quite a sight.

“Are you alright?” He asked as he looked you up and down. “God, you must be frozen. Come in, come in. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You sniffled, not just from the cold. “I hate to do this to you, but do you have a couch I could crash on?”

Despite how wet and cold you were, he laid a hand on your shoulder. “Of course,” He said. “What happened?”

“My parents,” You said, shame leaking into your voice. “They told me to stop working for you. They said you were the wrong kind of people. They’re so stupid!” You felt tears pricking at your eyes. “They’re all so stupid!”

He took a deep breath. “They’re just trying to look out for you, I’m sure. They’re afraid of what might happen to you because of me. I can’t say I blame them.”

You broke down. “Why do they hate you?” You sobbed. “Why? There’s nothing wrong with you! You’re lovely! They’re the monsters, not you!”

He hugged you, soaking the front of his clothes without a care. He squeezed you tight and and held you as you shook and cried against his neck.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. I’ve never understood it, either,” He said softly. “I wish I did.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

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#Rabbitman #Rabbit Man #Beastman #Beast Man #Interspecies Romance #Monster Lover #My Writing #My OCs #Tumble #Exophilia

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