#are we sure pretending things are real that aren't is magic? are we sure trying to rewrite what someone knows as reality is magic?
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is it magic or is it manipulation?
#can you hurt me without interacting with me in any capacity? even on here? even indirectly?#are we sure thats magic?#are we sure you being vague and indirect to demonize someone like me is actually magic and cursing?#we sure?#are we sure pretending things are real that aren't is magic? are we sure trying to rewrite what someone knows as reality is magic?#are you sure your sureness of something being true is... magic?#i cant keep pretending for you. the game is getting boring. im tired of the acting.#you and i both know whats in store for you.#what is karma if consciously done by an individual? retributive justice.#im sorry. when did you become the arbiter of karma? which god came down to you and told you that was your job?#because even THE GODS THEMSELVES. dont dictate karma for people. they can be the vehicle with which someone receives karma#but they dont actually get to decide who does and doesnt get certain karma.#so. i ask again. literally who in tf are you?#i guess what im saying is- if it was true karma- you wouldnt be consciously trying to hurt me :)#and yes even though your cursing doesnt work. the intention is still there. and you somehow think you're gonna escape THAT karma.#which is funny.#but please. continue entertaining me.#continue digging your grave. its really fun. i dont have to do anything.
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hii can you write a Caitlyn x fem reader where the reader wakes up in Caitlyn's bed, appearing that they had hooked up the night before and Caitlyn asking if they would stay for breakfast and the reader being all nervous etc.
i love your work btw <33
━ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐃
𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Caitlyn Kiramman x Fem!Reader
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, both reader and caitlyn are described as nude, sexual innuendos, flirting, a kiss at the end, mentions of consuming alcohol ( past ), mentions of being drunk ( past )
𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah but I'm tired/Nope
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - so sorry this has taken this flipping long! thank you so much for the request, ily sm!! hope you enjoy <3
PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK! I WORK HARD! IT'S APPRECITATED!
The morning sun burned against your skin with delicious warmth. Sheer curtains swaying in the breeze, it made for a peaceful awakening after a not so peaceful night out.
The large window practically blinded you though when your eyes finally cracked open. Your heading turning on instinct, trying to look away from it.
Your brain felt like it pounded against your skull and a faint taste of alcohol resided on your tongue, you glanced around at the ceiling. Trying to gather your thoughts, trying to remember what chaos you'd gotten into. And if you needed to apologize to any poor soul out there that you might've accidentally tortured.
That's when it dawned on you. The ceiling. It wasn't your own, too fancy, and that fact alone made you realize it wasn't one of your friend's ceilings either.
That's when she shifted, just slightly, her hair tickling your chest when you peered down. For a moment you kind of hoped it was a wild animal. At least you wouldn't be embarrassed when it awoke.
Blue, that's the first observation you had, the strands were a dark blue. Pretty if not the circumstances.
And you weren't wearing a shirt.
That was the second observation.
Great.
At that moment, you swore your breath hitched and you looked back up a the ceiling. It was like pretending she'd go away if you didn't look at her. One, two three, and poof. But this wasn't a magic show.
And again, she moved, making it more real than you would've liked.
When the fuck did you meet her last night.
"Well aren't you a flirt.."
She had a thick accent, you remembered it. It's what caught your attention in the first place, the way things just rolled off her tongue. There are plenty of accents where you come from, but you liked hers. It felt elegant, sophisticated.
Maybe it was because she was pretty, but you replied to it.
"I try my damnedest, that's for sure. Now why are you alone?"
You don't remember what she said. Maybe she wasn't alone, maybe she was for a good reason. You racked your brain, but you couldn't remember.
For a moment, the brief idea of leaving and never looking back shook your mind. Grab whatever garments of yours you could find on the floor and make a break for it, but then you shook it away. How the fuck would you manage sneaking out of an enforcers house?
Yeah, you remembered that tiny detail.
The blue hair could only belong to one girl with that accent, Caitlyn Kiramman, and for fucks sake, you ended up in her bed.
"Hm..." She shifted again, sitting up and rubbing her face. Slowly looking around her room as you awkwardly watched her, and something inside you prayed she wouldn't turn to see your face.
But that would be too easy.
"I- uh... would've left but..." You tried to joke, sitting up when she finally pulled away. There was a faint smile on her face, her soft eyes still holding sleep as she examined your expression.
"Sorry..." She'd blushed, cheeks painted in a tint of pink while you tried to avoid staring right into her pupils. "Nah, it's fine." You replied quietly, awkwardly trying to look everywhere but at her.
Your hands were very interesting this time of day, wow you needed to take better care of your nails.
"Did we..." She began to ask, but she'd already knew the answer. Her flustered state only increasing when you nodded your head. "Huh.." Was all she then said, sitting up further while leaning her head on her palm. Her arm resting on her leg.
"I can just get my clothes and-"
"Leaving so soon?"
You looked at her with slightly wide eyes, pausing from any action you'd begun to take to get up. The blanket hovering around your waist but your chest was exposed and you didn't even try to cover up.
Mostly because you were in a state of slight shock.
"I mean- I-" You stuttered, keeping your eyes on her face as to not accidentally get a nice examination of anything else. "I don't want to bother." The sentence finally strung together.
"Who said you'd be bothering?"
Her voice made you want to reach forward and repeat every interaction from last night. But instead, you swallowed, taking in a deep breath. You still felt like you were gonna fall through the floor, there would be no continuation even if you wanted it.
Get it together, damn.
"I.." Caitlyn interrupted you though, "I mean, you can leave if you'd like. But I would like you to stay." Your mouth shut, and you debated your next words carefully whilst biting the inside of your lip.
"Why?"
It came out smaller then you would've liked, you almost sounded afraid. But the enforcer in front of you understood it was nerves, chuckling at your reaction.
"You gave me a good conversation last night, if you... remember?" You laughed slightly, earning a bit of a wider grin from her. "And, I'd like to continue it a little further, if you'd indulge me."
She'd definitely done this before.
The thought popped into the front of your head before you got the chance to stop it. Again you felt like shriveling up and falling right over. Anything would be better then how she was looking at you as you processed what she said.
Like she wanted to reach forward and actually repeat every action from the night before.
"I really liked you last night."
Your face burned, though not visible, it burned. Turning around and screaming into the fluffy pillows would be beneficial about now. It was like being a teenager whilst talking to your crush for the first time. Only it wasn't your first time, you were just sober now.
"I liked you too, from what I remember." She giggled, laying back down beside you. Basking in the way your eyes followed her form as she spread out on the mattress.
"You were quite drunk, huh?" Caitlyn teased, loving the way you playfully scoffed and rested your back on the headboard. "So were you." "At least I can handle my liquor, Y/n."
You sarcastically laughed, shaking your head and looking forward.
"I can.. just not when I see pretty girls that make me nervous, Caitlyn."
"Nervous?" She asked, placing her head on her palm.
"Do I make you nervous?"
Yes, you absolutely do.
"A little." You replied.
A lot.
"Well... if that's the case, maybe we can calm those nerves while eating?" She must've noticed the slight raise in your eyebrows and once again she began to laugh. Shaking her head and sitting up slightly once again.
"I mean breakfast." She clarified, your mouth unintentionally moving into the shape of an 'o', nodding your head. "Depends, will it be just us?"
Caitlyn smiled, leaned forward towards you, so close her breath fanned your face. Her lips inches from your own, catching all the confidence you had and ripping it apart.
"If you'd like. Unless you want to take my parents on the date too?"
"I'll pass on that."
She grinned, finally leaning forward and pressing a small kiss to your lips. Feeling you return almost immediatley.
"Good, then it's settled."
#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman x reader#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman#arcane caitlyn#arcane x y/n#arcane x reader#arcane x you#nevy writes
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Cryptid Biology Season 2: Litha
[Previous entry: Here. Edit: I legitimately forgot to write the easiest part of this entire thing, the description. Rain helps Bea set up for the abbey's summer solstice bonfire party and reaps the rewards of a hard day's work. I don't know how Rain wound up the way he is, but he's not changing anytime soon.] Below the cut.
It's hot as Satan's balls out -a misnomer, considering the Morningstar's junk is stuck in a frozen lake for all of eternity, or at least until the end of days- and Rain wishes more than anything that he was in the lake instead of lugging tables and chairs across the sandy shore, but at the very least he can use his magic to keep himself cool.
Bea, on the other hand, is positively drenched in sweat despite having stripped down to what is absolutely necessary... which Rain has to say is a LOT more clothing than he expected to see the groundskeeper in on a day like this.
She's dressed in a bright, electric yellow work shirt with "MINISTRY STAFF" emblazoned on the back.
It's supposed to protect her skin from UV rays, as is the floppy bucket hat she has on, but Rain can't help but find the whole get-up a little silly.
The shorts she's wearing doesn't make it much better either, to be honest; A pair of white swim trucks with multi-colored flowers splattered across them without any real rhyme or reason to the pattern.
It makes him feel a little nauseous trying to make sense of it.
Does blue come after orange and blue? Is red and yellow before purple and brown?
Why are some of the flowers brown?
Are there brown flowers?
...He files that question away for later, when he has his phone with him... or Mountain.
He'll ask Mountain later.
Then again...
"Are there brown flowers?" he asks, eliciting a grunt from the groundskeeper, who is preoccupied trying to make sure that the tables are level.
"Are there brown flowers?" he asks again, setting down another one of the folding tables, "Or is that just not a thing?"
Bea pauses, thinking.
"Ya know, I'm not sure." she says after a moment, reaching into the pocket of her shorts before clicking her tongue and looking across the lake at her cabin, "A question for later... or Mountain. Just ask Mountain. He knows more about flowers than I do."
Rain snorts.
"Glad to know the gardens are in your capable hands." he jokes, and Bea flips him the bird, crouching back down to lock the legs of the table in place, "So..."
"Mn?"
"Are you going to come to the party with anyone special tonight? You know, since it's the solstice and all."
Bea looks over her shoulder at him.
"Huh? Why would I do that?" she questions, turning back to the stubborn latch, "No, I'm staying in my cabin with the curtains drawn, and pretending y'all aren't out here throwing a rager..."
Rain blinks.
"...You're not going to come to the bonfire at all? Even though you're setting everything up?"
The groundskeeper shakes her head.
"I plan on being in my bed by the time things kick off tonight," she says, "sorry to disappoint."
"Mountain doesn't mind?" he wonders aloud, causing Bea to make a choking sound and look at him like he's sprouted another head, "What? I just figured, since you guys have something going on-"
"I dunno who said what about what, but Mountain and I aren't..." she throws her hands in the air, "...We don't have 'something going on', unless you count having a couple, uh, adult sleepovers, but it's not like that... We're just friends who fuck occasionally."
"Oh." Rain lets this information sink in, "And... And, again, Mountain doesn't mind? Just being friends? 'Cause he... You know how he is."
Bea turns to face him head on, arms crossed.
"You're asking a lot of bold questions here, water boy, you wanna cease the inquisition for a minute?" she huffs, "Look... Mount and me, we're both adults, and we've talked about 'us' before, enough to know that's not how either of us feel about what we've got going on. If he and I did have something going on, I wouldn't have fucked you that time."
Rain's ears twitch, and his face heats up.
"I... I mean, here... we're all pretty open and..." he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, "I just assumed..."
"You know that they say about assuming things, Rainy, it makes an ass out of you and me." Bea chastises, then sighs, "I'm... just not looking for that sort of thing right now, and, like I told Mountain, I don't want to tie anyone down if I don't know if that's actually what I... what I want."
"It's... It's complicated, and I..." she frowns, crossing her arms, "I don't want to jump into a relationship on a whim, or because we had sex one time... I like Mountain, don't get me wrong, he's a good guy and he makes a lot of people happy, he's a loving and devoted partner from what I've seen, and a very attentive lover... but I'm not ready for that kind of thing."
"...Romance?" Rain asks.
"Love in general." she says, sticking her hands in her pockets, "Look, I really don't know how to... words. I'm not good at articulating this shit, I just know I don't like Mount like that. He's got a fuckin' good heart and a ten out of ten dick, but he's not for me."
Rain snorts.
"What?"
"Ten out of ten dick."
Bea rolls her eyes.
"You've seen it, you know what I mean."
"I do, I do..." the ghoul places a hand on his chest and stares out over the water wistfully, before turning back to the woman in front of him, "Still though, you should come to the party. You could just post up by the fire and play around with it. That's what all the fire elementals will be doing, might as well have someone around to supervise them and make sure they don't go ham..."
"Nah, I don't need more work..." Bea waves her hand dismissively, then looks at the ground, toeing a rock with her shoe, "...But, ya know, I might need a little help falling asleep, wat with all the noise and shit..."
Rain stands up a little straighter, taken off guard, "O-Oh?"
"The party starts in two hours, and the siblings are going to be swinging by any minute now to take care of the decorations, so..."
"Miss. Milne, are you propositioning this humble servant of the lord?" Rain raises his eyebrows, putting on a posh accent, laughing when Bea swats at him, "Okay, okay, I won't tease... We should hurry though, because if I have to endure another second seeing you in that outfit, I'm going to throw myself in the lake."
"Asshole."
"I guess we could try that hole this time."
Bea takes her hat off and hits him with it.
"Ow! Ow! I'll behave, I promise!"
"I have no idea why everyone thinks you're such a sweet, shy man, you're honestly the worst." Bea pouts, putting her hat back on.
"Who says that?" Rain asks, following Bea along the trail leading around the lake towards her cabin, "...Don't tell me you've been looking things up about us online, haven't you?"
"Not really, no." she says, "I mean, I looked up Sister Imperator once."
"You did??"
She nods.
"Obviously, I didn't find more than what anyone else already knows, but, I mean... Look at me." she gestures at herself, "Look at where I am. Do I look like I deserve to be here? Clearly, that woman has other plans for me, and, fuck, if I get to keep living like this in the meantime, I think I'll be okay if she... ya know..."
Rain bites his cheek.
"No, I don't know." he furrows his brow, "Bea, are you... Is anyone... How should I say this...? Is someone keeping you here against your will? Are you in danger?"
Without hesitation, Bea parts her lips and says a single, "No."
And for a moment, Rain wants to believe that's true.
But even as they ascend the porch, leaving their shoes outside the door as they slip inside the cabin, hands peeling away more clothing, Rain can't help but feel like he's trailing after a ghost.
Bea seems... weirdly resigned to her fate.
Detached.
He tries not to dwell on it, not right now, not when she's pulling him towards her bed, tugging at his belt like a leash.
She bumps the mattress and tumbles backwards, giving a soft gasp as Rain takes advantage of the undignified pose to slide her shorts off, revealing pink lace.
Her shirt comes off with a bit more of a challenge, the long sleeves catch as he tries to free her from it, and he growls his frustrations into her lips the moment its gone.
"You don't make this easy, do you?" he pouts, purring when she crooks her fingers under his chin, scratching at his beard for a moment before running her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp a bit, "...I'll forgive you just this once."
Sitting upright, Rain straddles Bea's hips before kneeling down to kiss between her breasts; They're small, less than a handful, but they're soft and have little freckles dusted across them that are fun to trace with his eyes...
He's peeked at them more than he should probably admit to, even before he got to see them up close and personal, but given the harried nature of their encounter in the lake, Rain hadn't had much time to admire them.
He gives them a tender squeeze, bunching up the baby pink bralette in his hands, and watches as Bea bites her lip to contain a squeak.
"I like this." he says, thumbing over her nipples through the fabric, "Your fashion sense might be questionable at best, but you do know how to pick out some lovely lingerie..."
"I didn't..." Bea arches into his touch, "...I didn't pick it out."
"Oh~? A gift then? From who?" he gives a slightly harsher press, "Who should I be thanking for this?"
Bea writhes beneath him.
"...Don't wanna say..."
"A secret admirer then?" he lowers his head back down, licking one of the rosy buds, "Not Mountain then..."
Bea shakes her head, whining when Rain nips at her chest.
"N-Not Mountain..."
"He is more of a natural sort..." Rain hums, blowing a puff of air out of his mouth, making her shiver as his unnaturally cold breath wicks the saliva he's left behind, "He likes a bit of hair..."
Bea shifts her legs and Rain raises himself up so she can slide them out from beneath him, moving so that she can sit up in his lap.
"So do I..." she admits, gliding her hand over the trail of coarse hair that runs down his stomach, pawing at the soft pudge there, "...Well?"
"Well?" Rain repeats.
"Are you going to fuck me or what?"
Rain grins devilishly.
"Oh, Honey Bea, I'm going to ruin you."
.
.
.
"Anyone know where Rain got to?" Dew asks, looking around at the gathered partygoers, "He sent me a text, like, ten minutes ago saying he needed five more minutes, and then another one that looks like a keysma-...Well, well, well, look who it is."
Rain lowers his head apologetically, still in the process of redressing himself as he strolls up to the other ghouls, shoes untied and his fly undone, "Sorry, sorry... Got carried away with... stuff."
Dew hands him a cup of cider, "Does 'stuff' have a name, or are you going to keep us in suspense?"
"My lips are sealed." he draws a line across his mouth.
"Yeah, but your pants aren't."
"Aw, fishsticks..."
"More like, fishdick, bro, I can see your pubes!" Swiss chortles from nearby, "You going commando, or did you leave your panties with 'stuff'??"
Rain does a little hop as he buttons his fly.
"You guys can tease me all you want, I got what I wanted out of the evening, here's to you maybe, MAYBE, getting the same, my friends." he raises his cup in a toast and downs his drink in one go, "Guh, fuck..."
"Gentleman," he salutes, "I bid you adieu."
Dew and Swiss watch Rain saunter away, scoffing as he plops himself down in one of the chairs on the beach overlooking the lake.
"He's always so weird post nut, I swear to fucking Satan..." Dew mutters, "...He seems like he had a good time with whoever stuff was though."
"Yeup." Swiss sips his beer, "...Where do you suppose Mountain is?"
"Huh, now that you mention it, he's missing, too... I guess he's hooking up with someone, too... Man, it seems like everyone's getting laid but us."
"...I might have a solution to that." Swiss says, side eyeing Dew before sliding his hand down his back.
"What are you-Oh. Oh-ho-ho~"
#lamp writes#shitghosting#nameless ghouls#rain ghoul#ghost band#the band ghost#ghost bc#swiss ghoul#dewdrop ghoul#ghost band oc#sibling of sin oc#sibling of sin#Cryptid Biology 101
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Tommy Shelby's Barmaid
Tommy Shelby X Reader
Anonymous Request -
Good morning/afternoon/evening/night Sammy Sammy yes I am! So check this out - I just saw Oppenheimer and came to the conclusion that I really miss seeing Cillian Murphy's face. So that night I began rewatching Peaky Blinders and am just in awe. So you know the point. I want to be his barmaid. No hate to Grace, love her, but let a girl just imagine. And that's where you come in. So yeah I wanna be his barmaid and sing to him. Maybe we're off to the races? Do your thing or else I'll might do a thing and report your account! :)
Word Count: pretty long
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And where are we off to, Miss?"
"One ticket to London, please!" you told the airport cashier, (or whatever they're called I'm not sure tbh), with your gleeful, bimbo smile. "The UK, one, thought. Not the Ohio one! Can't have that happening again!"
The lady didn't respond, she instead gave you a soft customer service fake ass laugh pretending she knew full well what you were talking about and kept her eyes down on the computer, securing that flight. You no longer trusted yourself to use computers or laptops, thanks to those Benadryl pills you used to be addicted to. But now that you were evicted from your New York apartment, you lost those pills in the process, and honestly all of your personal shit, so you've been forced to quit cold turkey and was actually experiencing withdrawals at the very moment. But, you couldn't let anyone know this! You needed to leave America fast.
"Okay, to confirm your name, Y/L/N, Y/F/N, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am!" You passed her your credit card and she did her magic, charging you a fuck ton of money!
The printer pooped out your ticket and she passed both that and your card back to you.
"Enjoy your flight. Safe travels," the lady wished you.
"Oh my god, girl, you too!" you wished back. You turned around and found your terminal, buying an expensive Starbucks drink of your choice and plopping your big butt down on a chair. You sat and looked around, sipping your coffee like a mother, taking in your surroundings of this little JFK airport they got going on.
"I'm really a world traveler right now...like, I'm on some Lewis and Clark shit right now," you thought to yourself.
You looked down at your luggages, or perhaps, just luggage. All that remained after your eviction just filled one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase you bought from TJ Maxx. You also had your rare vintage Juicy Couture purse you bought from Depop, thats faux leather was literally peeling off like dead skin, filled with all your essentials - lip gloss, nearly dead Elf Bar, crumpled up two-year-Goodwill old receipts, wired headphones because that's what cool people use walking down the street, crystals, loose hair ties, a baby Calico Critter, wire-exposed phone charger, and more that aren't too important to mention. You did miss all your other knick knacks and items that were lost, but since you were traveling light you 1. saved more money since it was just carry-on and 2. looked mysterious, just a girl on the road on her own adventure.
"After all, items are just like - items. Things." you thought, trying to convince yourself that all material items are just not real and people don't really need those things. This is what you repeated to yourself over and over but in all honesty it wasn't helping. You were fucking pissed you lost all your shit.
With all your items was your go-to airport fit - a Juicy baby blue tracksuit. So now you resorted to old PJ's you had shoved to the bottom depths of your drawer, wrinkled to the house boots down and forgotten of existence. They were a pair of Nike shorts and a baby tee that read "I <3 Surfer Boys". You then looked down to your white Crocs with the knock-off Jibblitz - the ootd would just have to do.
As you sat in your terminal, waiting, you thought about what adventures UK would bring to you. You wondered what people you'd encounter, what new storylines you'd get wrapped into, what NPCs would say to you - it really did feel like you were fast-traveling into another country in a video game.
Safe to say, you were ready for liftoff! Whenever that liftoff! would be because your flight was delayed like three times cause that's just airport things! This was the start of a new adventure! New and humble beginnings! No more America and their never-ending obsession with you committing financial fraud or whatever the IRS loved to say! But never mind that don't ask don't PUSH!!!!!!
Some hours later, you were finally able to board your flight. By this time, let's just say - people were fucking pissed about their flight being delayed, but you didn't really mind it. Yes, you were in a big time rush to leave America as soon as possible, but all that time waiting allowed you to finish the only downloaded show on your phone: LPS Popular. Shit was finally getting heated, Savannah Reed was def the no nonsense type of girl you envisioned yourself to be.
Anyway whatever you boarded on, took your window seat and went through the usual bullshit of waiting for everyone to board on and take off and turbulence and random ass baby crying and shitty food and whatever.
About a half hour in the sky, you looked through the catalogue of movies available - none which caught your interest.
However, after scrolling for another half hour - you found the one.
"Oh my god, a movie about two lovers flying in the sky staring Cillian Murphy and Rachel McAdams?!" you thought excitedly. "That's some good shit right there."
You hit that play button, scooted deeper into that seat, propped your patas up, and was subsequently locked IN for the short ass movie Red Eye.
The majority of the plot went over your head because you were to entranced with the Irish actor's cunty little face, sassy little attitude and blue big orbs for eyes, causing you to replay certain scenes over and over. (Specifically that bathroom scene. You didn't miss SHIT there). That hour and a half passed by and the movie had finished. Safe to say, you were NOT expecting any of that shit to go down.
"If that were me, I'd call that fucking hotel before he even told me to. Shit. I get Mark Wahlberg, if I was on that plane, things really would have gone differently," you thought, shaking your head. ]
After your almost seven hour flight, you had finally made it to London Town. It was indeed a stormy day, he was right, but you could go outside and roam around, contrary to popular belief. In order to prep for this trip, you stuck to just watching British films, trying to get an overall vibe of what those little redcoats were like. Pride and Prejudice (2005), Love Actually, Trainspotting, Little Women (Greta's version), Clockwork Orange, Barry Lyndon - let's just say, your Letterboxd was going crazy. You sobbed pretty disgustingly to all of them, except Trainspotting and Clockwork, which made you feel just icky. And Barry Lyndon just made you angry fuck that guy fr.
A/N - I just realized that Little Women, both Greta's version and the older 90s Winona Ryder one take place, in FACT, America. Oops! So yeah disregard move on u horndog <3
You once thought you were well-rounded on what chaos was, after all, you've been 1. in theater school, 2. briefly in the Medellin cartel, 3. worked in corporate America - but all of those experiences looked like fun Sunday pastimes the moment you stepped your fat butt off of the plane into London's Heathrow airport. Nothing could've prepped you for this shit. Too many people all doing different things in different directions was NOT your favorite place to be in! Let's just say - shit was hectic.
You boarded off, left your terminal and gathered your one Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and bolted the fuck out, running at your highest speed possibly, your Crocs locked in their sports mode, you just ran. It's what you did best, your superpower some might say. Maybe since Ezra Miller is canceled for being a kidnapper, you could possibly replace the Flash? Who knows tbh.
You ran so fast, miles and miles, (kilometers here!), you didn't realize you were now standing in front of the Big Ben. It was, admittedly, pretty big. Too bad you couldn't read time like that.
You looked down to your phone to see your receipt - you needed to be back in three hours for your next flight to Glasgow, Scotland - your actual destination. This London shit? Yeah it was only a layover. But you couldn't miss it.
You ended up missing it. You fell asleep on the big red bus, thinking you could sneak a little tour in before having to return for your next flight. By the time you woke up, it was morning, and you were alone, just you and your carry on.
"Ello Miss? Miss?"
Your eyes fluttered, adjusting to the brightness. A big English dude with missing and fucked up teeth was poking you awake.
"Bro what?" you muttered, pushing yourself up.
"Miss, it seems you've drifted off to sleep," the man said.
"Wait," you collected your thoughts, looked around at your surroundings, then down to your phone - your flight was seven hours ago. You felt your heart fall to the acidic pits of your stomach -
"Ain't no fucking way I'm stuck in London", you blurted out. "AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY!"
As if you took ten shots of DayQuil, you jumped up, scrambled for your shit and rocked the bus side to side as your Crocs took you across it, out to the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of London Town. It was cloudy as always.
"Oh no. Oh fuck. Oh no. NO I CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T!" you yelled, running back towards the direction of that hell of an airport. You needed to get back. You NEEDED to get back to Scotland, you literally saw Trainspotting just for Scotland!
But alas, it was too late. By the time you made it back to Heathrow, there was no refunding. You would have to pay another fat BUCK to get on another flight.
"Oh fuck that," you told the English lady. You walked back out, no way this little kingdom was gonna make a profit off of your ass. "I'd rather walk!"
And then you began to walk. Not run, you were a little hungry and needed some energy for that amount of dedication.
You stopped by a tea place and thought that you might as well have a crumpet or whatever, which sucked ass. They charged so much for what? A pastry with like three grams of sugar? Girl bye.
You sat on the curb, looking down at your phone and opening a map, you could literally just walk to Scotland. Yeah it'd be a pretty fat walk, but you might get a crazy BBL ass for free from all the walking.
"Babes? Are you alroight?" you heard a strong British voice call. You turned and there it was - a chav. A real fucking chav.
"Oh my god, you guys exist?"
She furrowed her dark over-filled brows as she smacked her nude-lipsticked lips on a piece of gum. There were other chavs behind her, all bleach blonde, overly tan and red ass cheeks. It was like your friend group, but in an alternate universe.
"Wot?" she asked again, more confused than offended.
"Listen girl, I don't know if you can tell - but I'm not from here. I need to get to from the UK to Scotland. How does a girl like me do that?"
"Babes? Yor in the UKay, loike, this is London?"
"Huh?" you asked, like Trisha Paytas in the car.
"Babes," another chimed in, "the UKay is loike, mooltiple places poot into one? Loike, England, Scotland, Ireland, Wales -"
"Oh, so they're all like, the same?"
Their faces dropped with fear.
"Babes, don't say that. I've just met you, but I'd definitely tell you loike, don't say that around other peepol," the main chav warned.
"Especially the Irish, yeah," another said. "They'd be mentool."
"Oh, no worries here. I'm an ally to all," you assured, "so do you know where I can rest for the night?"
"Babes!" the chav said excitedly, "I've got family in Birmingham! It's up norf, already on the way for yor travels! I'll text me nana so you can stay there fo free!"
"Babes," you said, you're cheap frugal ass getting hyped, "you're such a babe! Thanks girlie!"
You ended up dropping some money to take an Underground from London to Birmingham, because you then really realized your Crocs could only momentarily take you so far. Also, tat withdrawal wasn't doing you any favors. Anyway you enjoyed the ride, drinking some complimentary tea with your headphones in and disassociating as you looked out the window into the cement walls. You started to regret not bringing some sort of sweater because who would've thought a baby tee and Nike shorts would be enough. Shit was chilly.
You stepped off into the platform, feeling a strong GUST of wind rush past you. You first kinda enjoyed it like it was some sort of main character moment, but the moment that ghastly smell of smoke hit your nostrils - you went frozen like Mitch McConnell.
"Jeeeeeesus CHRIST!" you bellowed, "who fucking farted?"
You looked around, but soon became even more confused. Everyone was giving you the hardest stares you've ever received in your lifetime. But it wasn't their stares, no, you've been stared at before for worst things, it was cause of their - fits.
Everyone was dressed like some 1900s shit. It reminded you of the show Downton Abbey, the show your old boss Logan Roy used to binge. Little particles of what looked like dandruff floated around you and everything else just seemed gray.
"Wait, are you guys filming?" you asked in your bimbo self, smiling, "did I just walk onto set?"
No one replied. They really thought you were insane. There you were - rough looking, mid-withdrawal, I <3 Surfer Boys, old high school Nike shorts, Crocs, Five Below socks, Dollar Store sunnies, Hello Kitty-themed suitcase and Juicy bag, Elf bar in one hand and your phone with dangling earbuds wrapped around it. They were petrified.
You grew angry. You just stood there as they stood there too - both you and the Downton Abbey cosplayers were in a stand off.
"Okay whatever," you said, rolling your eyes. "Stay hating!"
You whipped around and began walking down the pavement, calling, or as the English say "ringing", that chav's nana. However, it rang and rang, you dialed and dialed, the lady was not picking up.
"Um, what the fuck?" you said looking down at your phone, "can this girl pick up?"
You continued to dial, your other hand to your waist like a Karen. You continued to look around as it rang, really impressed with the set.
It had been very foggy, and the cobblestone roads led down between old brick buildings where people in their 1920's costumes walked along, smoking and dodging the occasional explosion from the coal-burning coming from inside the buildings. Horses were trotting, carrying hay and other shit. People were yelling in their crazy accents and the dandruff kept raining down. Pillars up in the sky let out dark clouds of smoke. That gross exhaust smell still lingered, and no matter how much Nicki Minaj body spray you put on yourself, there was no way to mask it.
"Great. I'm homeless AGAIN!" you thought, giving up on that nana. "Whatever. I didn't even want a roof to sleep under anyway. C'est la vie honestly."
The stares did not cease. In fact, it got worse. You knew you were hot but like what the fuck can't a girl just walk and bitches mind their business?
Things were getting worse. The cobblestone ass road made it hard for you to pull your suitcase, so you were just essentially dragging it, you phone was on ten percent, you were hungry and thirsty because let's be real you did not eat much on that train, and honestly just over it.
You passed all the workers, dodged some random explosions, evaded random running children, spit some of that dandruff out of your mouth. Safe to say, you were angry but needed to persevere!
Eventually it was nighttime. You couldn't really tell if it was night or if it was just the pollution in the air at first, but after asking a random man he assured you it was indeed nighttime.
"I don't know how you guys live with all this dandruff," you told him, shaking your head. "You guys must be getting paid good as extras."
"Dandruff?" the man said, "that's ash, luv!"
"Thank god, that makes more sense. I was thinking I was gonna need to buy some Heads and Shoulders. I hate Heads and Shoulders."
He continued to look at you weird while he smoke his, what you were pretty sure in the span of you two talking, sixth cigarette. "Heads and shoulders? Fuck are they to do with your hair?"
"I know, horrible branding. I feel bad for the people in Pompeii. They probably thought it was like, a dandruff epidemic."
Eventually the man directed you to the Garrison, which was supposed to be this pub or whatever that all the locals hit up. You really just wanted a drink of water and like Taco Bell or something. Maybe a "Macky D's"? By the time you made it to the establishment, it was midnight, since you took forever cause you kept getting lost.
It was situated in a weird spot, where several men would occasionally run out and throw up bad on the dirt floor. It sounded hella noisy and rough in there, which was something you were not looking forward to. But again, you're hungry.
"I'm fucking starving," you thought to yourself as you pushed those heavy doors open, your suitcase getting caught in them. A surge of anger caused you to yank it past the swinging door, causing the it to slam against the wall and crack the glass. You got scared cause you didn't wanna pay for it, so you applied the "hear nothing, see nothing" tactic. It always worked <3
Nothing could've prepared you for when you entered. The energy was just not it. Heathrow vibes for sure. Hoards of drunk ass English men doing, well, things that drunk English men do. They were yelling, cursing, fighting, just being overall very annoying and overwhelming. It took you by surprise, you were just in awe that English were real. It was literally like a Call of Duty lobby but the English colonized it as they always do.
"These motherfuckers are crazy bro," you thought to yourself, getting a seat at the bar. The bartender made his way to you, and after some hesitation on his end, he finally spoke.
"Em, what can I get you, ma'am?" he asked, looking at you confused.
"Y'all got a menu?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Food, bro. I want food." You were not having it.
"I'm sorry, I'm afraid there's just drinks here."
"Fine, fucking alcoholics," you said, holding in your hangriness, "what about water?"
"Huh," he thought, "no one ever asks for water. I forgot we served it!"
He turned around and as he began to pour some crusty water into a dusty glass, you felt a tap on your shoulder. But before you could even turn to ask what the fuck whoever wanted what, another big burly English drunk dude was all up in your face.
"ELLO MISS! MIGHT I HAVE A CHANCE AT BUYIN' YA A DRINK?"
You were flabbergasted. Dude REEKED of some ale.
"Uh, you stink," was all you could muster, pressing your fingers on your nose.
His face fell into a very angry one. "YOU FOOCKIN' JEZEBEL!"
You weren't sure what 'jezebel' meant so you just rolled your eyes and turned back to the new glass of water placed in front of you by the bartender, and before he could walk off you downed the entire thing. He, too, like McConnell, was frozen at your abilities.
"Sorry about that man, Miss," the bartender said as he poured you another. "You're very pretty. Must be getting used to it by now around here."
"Yeah, like, about that," you started, taking your time with the water this time because you didn't know how much they had left in this place, "why is everyone cosplaying? Like, people here are DEEP into their character, which, don't get me wrong - I respect. I used to be a theater major myself, so I get it. But this is like, crazy. I know the English love their theater, but god."
The bartender, with a hypothetical gun to his head, could not for the life of him understand what the fuck you meant. You kinda got that vibe when he didn't reply right away. He actually looked worried for your mental wellbeing.
"Um, why did you just like, disassociate?" you asked.
"I'm sorry, Miss," he chuckled nervously, "you've just confused me, is all."
"Yeah, all that alcohol is giving you that early onset dementia. Do you know where I can get food around here?"
"Hmm," he thought, "I don't really know, to be honest with ya. And it's quite late, so I'm not sure what's open."
You could cry. You hated being hungry and tired at the same time, added to literally everything else that was happening around you. You were able to tune out the drunken men yelling behind you, but only to a point - mama was close to blowing.
"Oh my GOD," you started. "WHAT'S A GIRL TO DO TO GET SOME FUCKING FOOD AROUND HERE?!" you caught yourself. The bartender was growing more concerned. "I'm sorry," you cleared your voice, "it's just like, your queen for real sucked."
"Queen?" he asked.
"Wow, you're really dedicated to the craft. Like I said, I respect." You continued to drink your water.
"How'd you end up here in London, anyway?" he asked, leaning against the counter. You later found out his name was Harry, like Styles.
"Oh, buddy," you said, "what a story I have for you."
You then began to blabber on about what brought you to this point, which helped because it made you forget about your current grievances. Soon, the entire pub went dead quiet, tuned in to your story time. You felt like Tana Mongeau, and these were your viewers. You get why the majority of YouTubers were lowkey conceited. (Not Tana though she's funny love you girl <3). It was like a big kindergarten story time.
About half an hour later, you were mid-way through.
"And so, when my boss literally fucking died, I was like, 'oh shit, I've like lost my job by like, proxy'? It was scary."
"How'd he pass?" one of the drunk men asked.
"Dude, get this. He died getting his phone out of the toilet. Like, some Elvis shit," realizing they wouldn't get what you just said, you thought it best to move right on, "anyway, I was like, 'maybe this is a good time to move on, maybe America isn't the place for me.' I was also wanted by the Men in Black, too. They don't fuck around."
"Who's the Men in Black?" Harry asked.
"The IRA were after ya?" another asked, in shock.
"I. R.S. It's not important. So, after he died, one of his kids had to be chosen to take over the company. Imagine like a Game of Thrones sort of thing. My on-and-off boyfriend, Kendall, is the oldest so you'd think it'd be him, right? Like, his name was underlined and everything. Or crossed out, you know, is the dress blue and black or white and gold? The day of, I snuck into the building for the board meeting. I wasn't supposed to be there, cause you know, I'm not a share holder or whatever, but I thought 'if I act like nothing happened, maybe technically I'm NOT fired cause my boss died, maybe nobody will say anything?' Confidence takes you a loooong way let me tell you! So at the board meeting, I voted Kendall, but his stupid home alone ass brother Roman was like 'oh YOU'RE still here?'. Then he told me to fuck off and that I should've died with Logan? Could you believe that?"
They were all in shock, muttering angry English curse words to each other.
"And then I was like, 'no fuck you. What ever happened to democracy? I don't have a vote?'. But whatever, Kendall didn't win and he left the building. No, Horton Hears a Who Tom won, and while everybody was celebrating I was like, 'guys? GUYS! ALL EYES ON WINDOWS! WHERE DID KENDALL GO? All eyes on windows!'. Then I got like, kicked out or whatever. I kept spamming Kendall, texting him and calling him and nothing. Like 'Kenny, wya???'. He was ghosting me. Then I saw right after he put his phone on Do Not Disturb. Targeted, really. I saw his location at Central Park, facing the water, and this had me WORRIED. Kendall and bodies of water? Yeah they don't mix well. I needed to talk to him before he jumped! But when I got there, his new dumbass body guard was like, 'Can you leave? He's not seeing anyone'. I kept calling him, and he wouldn't turn to look at me. He was like, mega dissociating watching that horizon."
"Must've killed him that he's no longer the number one boy," a drunken English man said, somber.
"Def," you said.
"So you and Kendall?" another asked.
"No more. He never picked up, so I thought we were done," the men in the bar were devastated. "Yeah, really sad. I already mourned, though. So, yeah, I was like, 'what do I do now?' Logan gave me some money, so I can really just do anything? I was walking down the streets of New York and saw a random man in a suit I thought was the IRS, and it hit me - I'm lowkey a fugitive? I need to like, leave. Logan isn't there to protect me anymore, you know? And then it hit me - I'll go to Scotland! In Logan's honor! Like, his hometown. Plus, I thought Scotland didn't have extradition, but it was actually Venezuela. But it's okay, same shit. And that's why I'm here."
"But this is Birmingham?" another man said.
"Oh, yeah, don't worry I fully aware. But yeah, that's it."
Again, the pub had been silent. They'd been intrigued, captivated. You waited for someone to speak up and break the silence, but about two minutes later you realized that wasn't gonna happen.
"Okay? Anyway, so nothing to eat here?" you asked Harry.
He shook his head, stunned. You then slowly crept off the chair, gathered your shit and saw your way out. "Weirdos," you thought.
You exited back out, it was now fully dark with few lampposts shining light onto the falling dandruff. It all reminded you of exactly where you were - stuck.
You slumped against the wall, onto the ground where you didn't see any of the mud that splashed all over your shorts. You were too tired and over it to give a fuck. You pulled out your phone, and saw the battery on 2%.
"Man FUCK!" you exclaimed, "I know damn well none of these Lin Manuel Miranda stans built an electric socket."
You went on to scroll mindlessly through your feed, which barely loaded because of the lack of signal. You were in the middle of spamming the refresh button until you received a notification from Snapchat that read, "One Year Ago Today". You clicked it open, forgetting you still had that app downloaded, and its contents nearly pushed you over the edge to start balling.
You clicked play.
"Oh, don't be a pussy, Greggguh!"
"Mumusdsfjks," Greg said, shoving more marshmallows into his mouth, "Chubb Bunif."
"Sorry, buddy, couldn't hear you!" Tom said, giddy, shoving his own marshmallow down Greg's mouth.
"You got it Greg!" you heard yourself say.
You wanted to cry. You wished you could just go back to Waystar in that moment, playing the Chubby Bunny challenge with gay lovers Tom and Greg.
"Man, I miss them," you thought. But alas, that was all gone now...
You quickly closed the video, going to your bank app to see how much money remained. After all, Logan DID leave you with enough, but you couldn't help yourself on those McDonald's breakfast orders through Uber Eats.
Your tears quickly evaporated like they were put through the snap of Thanos when you got a glance of your credit score though. Oh no.
"OH MY GOD?!??! MY CREDIT IS AT 400????!!? I'M LIKE, FUCKED?!???!"
"What's a credit score?"
You nearly shit yourself at the deep, sullen voice. You looked up and let's just say - you were intimidated. It's the terrorist dude from Red Eye. He wore a flat cap and a tweed little suit type of fit.
But it wasn't the tweed that had you transfixed - no, it was those eyes....they were familiar. The last time you felt power of being in a trance like that were those Furbies... it forced you to look at them, you had lost all ability of self-control. They made you question yourself, your purpose and whole life being. They were commanding you with their uncanny valley vibe. Their immense gravity caused all time to slow...
"Dude, put those away!" you yelled, forcing your eyes shut and looking away.
He didn't reply.
"I'm sorry," you giggled, realizing he wasn't gonna reply to you and instead just stood there. "I'm just really hungry. You got anything?"
He thought for a moment. "Actually...we don't eat." He had a little sassy, matter-of-factly tone of speaking you fucked with heavily.
"Yeah, that's why your official dish is tikka masala," a glance of that dish popped into your head. "Man I could fuck that up right now."
"I can take you to my office, I might have something there," he said. You agreed right after, anything would have to do. Little did you know, this would be the man who would save you. Not in a self-fulfilling sense but he'd grab you something to eat.
You two made it to his office, some ways away. It was just a big ass dark room with tables in the middle, which you would later find out the betting on his horse racing took place.
You sat down and he took off his coat and goofy ass hat, then went to the back for a moment. You looked around, you felt like you were in a dungeon. You looked down to your phone - shit was dead.
He came back moments later, with a single loaf of bread he placed in front of you. He then took a seat across from you, took out a cigarette and did what the English do best, smoke.
You were a bit taken aback, and it definitely showed, since his little sassy face got more sassier.
"Well?" he bellowed, motioning to the food.
"Honestly," you started, not wanting to offend cause he did scare you (in a hot way), "I don't know what more I was expecting. I know Panera bread when I see it."
You began to eat, he just watched you. You would be annoyed had this been anyone else, but man was too fine.
Some minutes went by, and he just smoked while you ate. He was definitely a man of few words.
"You're so mysterious," you said. "Is that your character?"
He took in a big puff and put his feet up on the table like he owned the place, cause he literally did. "You don't belong here."
"Yeah, no fucking shit. I'm supposed to be in Scotland."
"What's in Scotland?" he asked, tapping his cigarette into an empty whiskey glass.
"Bagpipes, I've heard."
He then leaned to the side, grabbing his cigarette case out and offering you one. You declined.
"It's okay, I don't like cigarettes. They're gross," you went inside your bag and pulled out your crusty geriatric Elf Bar that was on life support, "here, try this! She's my sidekick!"
He stared at it, not a thought behind those eyes. He then rose up.
"What about a whiskey, eh?" He went to a table against the wall and poured two glasses. You shrugged at his decline of your Elf Bar, and took some shitty hits cause girl it's dead give it up.
As he had his back to you pouring the glasses, you really thought about how manly he was, in a way all those Ryan Gosling Drive stans love. He reminded you of those mafia boss fanfics you used to read. The way he spoke was so low and serious, but it made your feet rock like crazy!
He turned back around and placed your glass in front of you. Before he sat, he took a swing of his and literally drank it all in one shot like an animal. Wanting to impress him, you did the same, but soon regretted it right after. You'd tried whiskey before, but that was just not good. It was so strong it burned your esophagus, causing you to feel like you had strep throat all over again. You nearly gagged and threw it up but you couldn't let Tommy see you that way. He was staring.
"Jesus Christ," you said in a raspy, chain smoker voice, trying to smile through the pain, "that's some real shit right there. I'd much prefer a BuzzBall."
"What brings you to the UK?" he asked again, a little more interrogating.
"Fine. I'm avoiding parole."
"Parole?"
"Have you ever been on parole?" you asked.
He took a moment, your question hit hard. "Ever since men like me got back from France, we've always felt we were on parole under the king." He had a sadness to it, which then made you kinda sad.
"Aww, you're a parole baby <3."
He rose his brows in a "yeah this girl off it" way.
"Does France give you bad memories?" you asked, wanting to know both out of being a nosy bitch and seeing if you could break him.
"Most nights," he said.
"Don't worry, me too."
"You served?"
"I might has well have," you replied, thinking of that past life living with your old boyfriend.
"I wasn't aware women served."
"We always do," you assured. You kept looking into his eyes like it was a staring contest.
"What's it you're looking at?"
"You have a very, no-nonsense cunty face. Like BBL," you first smiled telling him that, but it then reminded you of when you told your old boyfriend Kendall the same thing. The thought of him made you sad, you wondered where your number one boy was now...
You didn't realize but Tommy noticed your change in demeanor, initially believing you were thinking about your time during the war in France. He rose and grabbed another drink, placing one in front of you as he killed his in less than a second.
You snapped out of your sadness. "Oh, no thanks. I don't think I can have anymore. This trip will definitely be very detoxing for me."
You two then sat in comfortable silence for some time, as if you two were both mourning after the innocence lost before France. You were something different for him, a new comfort he couldn't find much else in that polluted ass city. And you found comfort in him, he really did seem like he needed fixing. But that's not what you do, no no, he's a grown ass man and can fix himself. You'll just watch from the sidelines <3.
Eventually, you stayed in Birmingham. Once you were aware that your money had no value in the UK, you realized you needed to be employed again to save up for Scotland. Dollars, turns out, did not equal shillings and pounds or whatever. Tommy hooked you up after finding out your situation and generously gave you a job at the Garrison as a barmaid, along with Harry, who in time, became your BFF. It wasn't that hard of a job, these men never mixed any drinks and would instead have their alcohol straight like a bunch of monsters, so you kinda ate at this job. Another perk was that these 1920s bitches loved thin eyebrows, so your Y2K overplucked eyebrows fit right in! Full circle shit!
But perhaps the best perk was when Tommy would come in every so often and give you a little LOOK. Oh that shit made you rabid yes it did! It made you all hot down there and you couldn't handle it! You two barely spoke, as he would go into the side room for meetings and whatever mumbo jumbo he got up to with his brothers, but when you did you did your best to bring out that old femme fatale. You knew damn well he'd fuck that shit up. And let's be real so did you.
You knew that you had Tommy in your CLUTCH when he was once lecturing you - basically there was talk about some Billy Kimber dude amongst him and his brothers and the members of the gang, but you couldn't get past how fun it was to say the man's name, especially in their wild ass accent. You kept incessantly shouting it, to what you thought was a joke, "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA" in every possible moment you could, but it would send all the men into a paranoid shock thinking Billy boy was just around the corner. Obviously, he wasn't, in fact you couldn't point out who Billy Kimber was in a crowd of English, but let's just say - it sent them for a sheer panic. They would constantly tell Tommy to get you to stop, since it was bringing back war trauma basically and never felt fear like that since the war. You personally thought they were being a bunch of pussies but whatevs.
Anyway Tommy found you at the bar after closing and wanted to have a serious talk with you - no more random BILLY FACKIN KIMBA. As he was lecturing you on the dangers of it, you actually started to disassociate in those eyes of his. You then started to think,
"What if I just grabbed his hat?"
Those intrusive thoughts grew stronger and stronger as the moments flew by and the more his voice became a bunch of muffled nothing. And they won.
"GOTCHA HAT!" you spat before taking his flat cap off and running with it, jumping over the bar on some parkour shit and pushing those doors open onto the grimy streets of Birmingham, in an excited manic. You ran for nothing, since you didn't notice in the adrenaline of it all he didn't move an inch and instead just stood at the bar, stumped. From that point on, he knew you weren't like other girls. Cause let's be real who in their right fucking mind would do that to Tommy Shelby? You did girl xoxo <3
But when your image with Tommy REALLY hit home for the guy, it was one night. One very special night...
You were working the night shift at the Garrison, again. It was another rainy day in London Town, and you were all alone cleaning up. You started to think about Gabbie Hanna, and how low key right she was. You continued to rap to yourself,
"♪ Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid. I'm on top of the world sitting pretty ♪ -"
The doors flew open, causing you to jump pretty high up. You looked to the entrance, it was Tommy. And man was drenched and tired looking, your fave combo.
He walked over, behind the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He was always a little emo and to himself, but something about him now was really depressing, like man's definitely going through it.
He then took a seat at a table, and looked at you with dead eyes.
"What's with the frown?" you asked, trying to lighten up the mood but was severely unsuccessful. (Unbeknownst to you he literally just had to put down a horse he thought was cursed :/ it's a canon event!)
He didn't reply. Surprise surprise instead he just drank his whiskey done. You chewed your gum, clueless.
You just continued to clean, continuing Gabbie's rhyme in your head.
"♪ Overwhelmed, overwork, underpaid ♪ -"
"Can you sing?"
You turned around again. He fr sounded sad asf. It shocked you, cause did he like, read your mind or sum?
"Uh, yeah. You want me to sing?"
"Every barmaid knows how to sing."
"Okay, sure. Like acapella?"
He just stared at you, lost again with your mumbo jumbo.
"Well, I know Lana, I know Nicki, my ex had a song L to the OG-"
"Lana. She sounds nice."
You nodded. "She really is, I love her. Okay, I think I know a song."
"Stand up there," he pointed to a table. You were a bit hesitant, the last time you did that you ate shit like that one girl on YouTube who was also singing on a table and ate shit. But it was for Tommy so you did so anyway.
You climbed up, took out your gum, flicked it in a bucket, cleared your throat, moved your hair out of your face, and fixed your posture - this was your Pose moment tonight, and Tommy's Billy Porter.
You then started to sing White Mustang by Lana, but the moment you got to the chorus, which was, well, White Mustang, he told you to stop.
"Something else, please," he asked demanding yet softly.
"What? Too close to home? Don't worry, Lana does that," you assured, "here, I'll sing a song that hits close to me, it's called How to disappear, it's what do when I'm trying to run from the IRS."
You cleared your throat again and started to sing and girl you ATE THAT SHIT!!!!!
You hit those fucking notes, you were lost in your little own world envisioning yourself in a music video. You understood why America's Got Talent contestants were nervous, cause the pressure? Yeah it's real. And not only is Tommy Billy Porter, he's also Simon Cowell - a yes from that Brit would secure your spot.
Speaking OF Tommy, because momentarily you forgot he was there with you - the man was enthralled, ENCHANTED. He sat silently, the rainwater dripping down his face, as he was taking in every small gesture you made, taking in every musical note that came out of your BBL mouth, (even the voice cracks), and just taking, well, you in. At that very moment, he was in love. YOU were the femme fatale he needed in his life, the one that would complete him, make him feel whole, and would give him purpose.
Once you were finished, you snapped back into reality and realized you actually weren't in a music video. You looked to Tommy, whose face barely made any other emote other than the one where he looked like he was annoyed, staring up at you. A wave of anxiety flooded over you - you were the center of his world right now, and that pressure was too hot!
You quickly climbed down, and flashed him a big smile.
"So?" you asked, now LITERALLY feeling more grounded on the ground.
He didn't respond at first. Moments later, he did.
"Do you have something nice to wear?"
"Like what?"
"A dress?"
"Um," you thought, trying to remember the contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase, "maybe. Why?"
He rose up, getting ready to leave from the fear and insecurity of the emotions he just experienced. "I want to take you to the races."
"We're gonna race?"
"Horses. Horse races," he corrected you, making his way to the exit. "Be ready by tomorrow, I'll collect you before noon."
"Oh my god, like a date?" you were too slow to come to the conclusion because by that time he'd already left. The excitement quickly mixed in with the anxiety, which wasn't the best feeling in the world. You knew in anticipation for tomorrow you were gonna need SOMETHING to take the edge off, so before closing up you snatched some bottles of alcohol to take to your flat. You weren't really sure what exactly they were, but what you did know was that it was gonna taste like fucking ass. But when mama needs her go go juice, she TAKES her go go juice.
The following morning you woke up at the crack ass of dawn to get ready - you knew you needed TIME. Not that it takes a while for you to get all pretty, girl you're already naturally stunning! but time and place - you needed to stunt today. Also, you already weren't a morning person so you didn't trust yourself to snooze. Actually, you barely slept at all last night since you were too caught up about what makeup you were gonna do, how you were gonna style your hair, what dress to wear and most of all, your ass was just asked out by Tommy. You wondered if this is how nervy the soldiers felt when they encountered bin Laden's bunker.
You had already finished your makeup and hair, looking pretty snatched. Too bad your phone's been dead for the past couple of weeks and you couldn't take pictures. But anyway you did the usual 1920's makeup tutorial you remember watching on some Buzzfeed video a while ago, pretending you were doing a Vogue makeup tutorial in your mirror and talking step by step your process. You curled your hair into the 1920's bob they were obsessed with back then, packing on an obscene amount of gel just to keep that wave stiff. You struggled but nonetheless you got it girl.
You were now staring at the remaining contents of your Hello Kitty-themed suitcase - let's just say, you had nothing. That's a lie you did have SOMETHING but was it appropriate for the time? No. Like if you're going to the Renaissance Fair, your ass isn't gonna wear some Skims ass dress. But guess what? That's actually all you had.
It was a black, tight, spaghetti-strap slip-on dress that was above the knee - definitely NOT the vibe for the era, maybe a bit too revealing? But what other choice do you have? You're I <3 Surfer Boys tee? Exaaaaactly.
You slipped it on and was taken aback - you know how you forget how good you look when it's been a while since you've dressed up and you actually surprise yourself? Yeah that was you right now. Kim would be proud to see you in that dress, in fact, she'd probably cheer you on to wear it proudly at the races. Even though she wasn't your favorite sister, you imagining her company right now really did help.
You kept feeling yourself in the mirror - girl you looked GOOD. You put on some black heels, some perfume and that was it - you were simply that bitch now.
"Oh my god," you thought to yourself, "Tommy's gonna flip. Shit, I'd get with me."
And just like that, you heard the honks of a car coming from outside your flat. You peered through the window, and there you saw some vintage, rinky dink ass car.
"Oh, fuck!" you shouted, mainly to yourself, but they heard. "Coming!" you called out the window.
It was actually happening - oh fuck he's here oh yes he is. Quickly, you grabbed one of the bottles you confiscated and took the fattest swig. It was the most horrendous, grotesque warm vodka you've ever consumed. But it would have to do.
You quickly made it downstairs, taking a moment before appearing outside to calm yourself down and make it seem as if you effortlessly just went down some stairs without a care or worry in the world. You made sure to grab a fur coat, faux of course, and your keys.
Down by the car was Tommy in the driver's seat, with his two brothers, Arthur and John, seated in the back. They all looked at you in awe - they had never seen so much of a woman's legs in their entire life.
"Bloody foockin' hell, Tommy! What do we have here?!" Arthur exclaimed.
"Jesus, Tommy," said John, "I didn't think it was bloody possible for you!"
Tommy stared at you for a few seconds longer, a bit taken aback himself.
Tommy ignored his brothers and exited his side, helping you into the passenger's. You got a whiff of his cologne that brought out an animalistic, innate horndogness of you that you remembered to keep in check. Now was not the time but it was admittedly hard cause the man just looked so good.
He climbed back into his side, then started driving off, the cobblestone road causing you to feel even more nauseous than you already did. You didn't realize it, but you were mute for the first ten minutes from how disassociated you were. That vodka was hitting deep and swimming in circles in your empty tummy - you hadn't had breakfast, essentially raw dogging and running on nothing, because you knew if you munched on some Panera bread, you would've thrown it up from the nervousness. You were now really accepting the fact that it was a grave mistake.
"Well, what's wrong with her?" Arthur bellowed, "is her bloody tongue cut off?"
Tommy gave you a quick little side eye, then fully turned to you after realizing you were, indeed, gone.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned with a TOUCH of attitude. Or maybe they were both the same you couldn't differentiate it when it came to Tommy.
"Uh, yeah," you cleared your throat and sat up straight, "just really taking in the moment, you know? It's my first race."
Tommy turned back to the road.
"You guys look great!" you complimented, wanting to move on.
"Why thank you, Miss Y/N. I shall wear your kind words like a medal from tha war," said Arthur. "You look like one of them silent film stars!"
You blushed. "So, wanna listen to some music?" you suggested, hating sitting in quiet cars.
Tommy scrunched his brows. "What do you mean?"
You looked down to where the touchscreen on the car WOULD be, forgetting this car was quite literally just a box on wheels with an engine attached. AUX and Bluetooth are not in the vocabulary of these people's brains for another couple more decades.
"Like, carpool karaoke," you suggested.
"What?" John asked.
"Bloody hell is that?" Arthur also asked. You also forgot, these English men wouldn't face the atrocity that is James Corden in ALSO a couple more decades.
Tommy scoffed, a small little smile on his face but nonetheless a smile. He gets it. "Singing. She likes to sing."
"Is that right?" smiled Arthur, "wow, you've really done a number on Tommy boy over here! He's now a fan of the musical arts!"
The two brothers began laughing and smacking Tommy on the shoulders and head in a playful, men-in-a-gang, manner. He smirked.
"I'll start, I have the perfect song - this one's called Off To The Races," you turned to Tommy, "also by Lana."
You two smiled at the little inside joke y'all had going on now. You then started singing, really into it like the night before. You were hitting those "scarlet, starlet" notes a little too good. Once you wrapped up, you left the three men in a silence that lasted for a couple minutes. Except Tommy, he was always silent. But his brothers were a little confused, but decided to just roll with it since you made Tommy happy. You thought they were just floored by your abilities.
"Lovely," John finally said, hesitant and low to break the silence.
"You've got yourself a bloody mental one here, Tommy," said Arthur. Tommy smiled, you were indeed a little unwell but it was okay to him. So was he <3
It had been about an hour after your arrival, you had been helping yourself to a shit ton of food by a table, stocking up like a bear ready for hibernation. You were literally the only one there, and you assumed so because the cigarettes and alcohol these Brits were fucking up were acting as appetite suppressants. Your fat ass wasn't complaining.
Besides being the only one actually eating something of nutritional value, you were getting HEAVY looks and side eyes for your outfit. You didn't care, your ass looked good from all the walking around the pub you've been doing. Upon entering, Tommy noticed the looks to. You whispered in his ear, "it's cause none of these interbred Habsburg jaws know what a real woman a real BITCH looks like 💅."
He didn't get exactly what you meant, but got the vibe and he liked it. He, actually, loved that you were the center of attention here, as you SHOULD be. Afterwards, he told you he had some business to attend to and knowing you were hungry, led you to the food table. He said he'd get you after he was done, and man was taking his time. But again you didn't care you were just munching away.
"Try the scone, darling, it's absolutely dashing!" a rich, socialite said to you. Her costume was just as amazing as everyone else.
"You know, I've been avoiding it but, maybe I will. Why not?" you smiled, grabbing one and taking a chomp. It tasted like actual ass but you have a great poker face. You moaned like Mark Weins, even hitting his crazy facial expressions. "It's great!" you mumbled. She smiled and talked on about something you didn't really pay attention to.
Eventually, Tommy came up behind you and grabbed your arm gently. Had this been any other man, you would've pistol whipped them in the face with the rock of a scone in your hand, but it was Tommy so you just got all the butterflies inside. You turned and smiled, chewing your food and swallowing it almost hole to say something and not just stand there.
"Fhey Tomyif," you mumbled through the dry scone.
"Feeling better, eh?" he said in a low tone. He seem a little more cheery, which made you cheery. He was enjoying himself, as he should. And so were you, as you should. Let's just say, the vibes were good.
"Omg, def," you said, finally swallowing the last bit of food, "you know, you should try eating something. I know you don't do it much, but, I feel like it can be a great experience for you."
He looked into your eyes. He loved that you cared. A soft smile came on his lips.
"Not hungry."
You thought for a minute. "But like, I'm pretty sure you haven't eaten since France."
"Maybe later. Do you dance?"
"Do I dance? With a little spicy marg in me, Tommy, it's over." But alas, the bartender would have no clue what a spicy marg was, so you kinda had to retract your statement, "But no yeah I can dance sober too no biggy."
"Good," he said, grabbing your hand gently and leading you to the crowded dance floor. You turned back to wave at the socialite lady, who gave you a little wink. My girl knew you scored.
All you knew was that the Brits LOVED their Charleston dancing, something that you definitely needed Just Dance to teach you. But she wasn't here. You were frightened at the thought, but when Tommy pulled you in, and you two just started going at it, it was as natural as your BBL ass. That one Pride and Prejudice dancing sequence had you mastered in the art.
With his hand at your waist and the other in your hand, and your other hand around his neck feeling his buzzcut, there was no force on this earth that could stop you. You honestly just moved your legs around and were great.
Up close to him, you were again in touch with his cologne. You needed to control yourself, but it didn't help that he was like three inches from your face. In this sea of people, it just felt like you two and no one else.
As you two were fucking up that dance floor to that 1920s jazz music, you looked around at the other faces of people dancing around you. Some you caught staring, others pretended not to. You smiled at the fact your hot ass was intimidating.
"Man, if I were to do the Woah here, they'd all lose their fucking minds," you thought. "What if I like, just started twerking? No, I can't. I can't let them win." You knew those intrusive thoughts cannot get another W against you again. The last time that happened, you were expelled from theater school. You couldn't, you couldn't embarrass Tommy - but the urge was too strong.
Almost as if Tommy read your mind, he pulled you aside the dance floor.
"I want to introduce you to someone," he said. He then took you to a table where a man with the craziest middle part and mustache sat, beside another who looked like an owl with glasses and other carbon copies of English dudes. At the table was a fuck ton of coins and money, along with drinks and clouds of cigarette smoke from ashtrays.
"Y/N, this is Billy Kimber. He owns the tracks here," Tommy said. Oh my god it's him, its Billy fackin Kimba...
You weren't sure why Tommy would introduce you, but you took it as a compliment. Maybe he just wanted to stunt on this guy? Who knows.
The man with the goofy ass fucking name had a wry grin on his face that you did not like at all. The vibe was not good no more around this guy. He stuck out his hand to you, and you obliged very hesitantly. He grabbed your hand and kissed it. With that a wave of disgust flew over you, feeling as though you've been stained. Ew gross.
"Lovely ta meet ya," the man said. He rose, "Mista Shelby, might I ask your lady for a dance?"
"Oh, no thanks! <3" you said, a welcoming smile on your face. Tommy and Billy both looked at you as if you just said the most out of pocket shit. The owl man and English robots also gave you daring looks.
"Wot?" Kimber spat.
You almost laughed.
"Uh, yeah like, I don't wanna dance." you said, mimicking Tana Mongeau's "a bleach and tone".
Billy saw absolute red. He was livid. He turned to Tommy, who, too, was speechless.
"The fuck are you on about?" Billy spat again. You really weren't sure what he didn't understand.
You then realized - there was no getting out of this. You didn't want to cause a scene, cause you kinda already did. So you again invited those intrusive thoughts.
"Fine," you said, clearing your throat and standing straight. "I'll dance."
You then pretended to throw something in the air, looking up in an anticipatory, worried way. They all looked up too, confused.
"Oh my god, do you see it? Mr. Kimber, where is it?!" you said as if a bomb were to fall.
He looked up and then to you, growing increasingly worried. He was too in shock to speak.
"Where is it?! Where is it?! Do you see it?!" you kept looking up at basically nothing, but you knew it was something. You kept them on their toes, scared at this point. Your feet dancing softly, they were ready for impact. It was time to come down. "There! There it is and -"
With that, you pulled it down and committed the hardest, most nastiest Woah you've ever done. The last time it was that riveting was during middle school lunches.
When you brought that down, the pose you ended on had your head down and body limp, as if you were Aang in the Avatar state during the episode where he was fighting Zuko's papa and had to unlock and harness such force.
You left them taken aback, disoriented. They didn't know what to do or how to react. You looked fucking insane.
You took a deep breath and stood back up straight, satisfied. Once you realized that the room had fallen completely silent, even the musicians, you felt you needed to excuse yourself.
"Um, so," you struggled to find the words. You felt the anxiety creeping up again, the lightheadedness arising. And most of all, it was time for you to empty yourself. "I've, uh," you thought harder and harder - "I'VE GOT AN ITCHY BUM!"
You split, running and running as fast as your pumps could take you. You ran and ran, it was always the most liberating activity honestly. All that dancing with Tommy, the nerves piled up along with the hors d'oeuvres - they lead to this very moment.
You searched round and round, desperately for a bathroom. No where in this bitch was there a sign or indication, and time was running slim. This was some real Mission Impossible, Tom Cruise is on a time crunch, shit. You pushed through crowds of drunk, belligerent and yelling people, feeling your body slowly succumb to the intense body heat.
Eventually, you spotted a familiar face. You ran.
"Arthur!" you yelled. He spun and looked back to you.
"Y/N! What is it?" he asked, worried. You looked a bit wild. "Are you alright? Where's Tommy?"
"He's fine, he's," you thought, "somewhere. Look, it doesn't fucking matter."
"The mouth on you -"
"Where the fuck is the bathroom in this bitch? Huh? The loo? The toilet? The washroom whatever the fuck y'all call it?"
"Well, I was on me way. It's just over there -" he pointed and you bolted.
As you were entering, you literally ran full force into the socialite from earlier. She wasn't angry, just like Arthur, worried.
"You look absolutely GHASTLY darling!"
"Girl move -"
You went into one of the stalls and laid your worst. Thankfully since it was a Skims dress, all you had to do was pull your Victoria Secret thong off and go. You felt bad for the ladies in their dresses and stockings and shit here - convenience was definitely not a factor yet.
After you cleared your business, (and subsequently the whole bathroom), you stepped out of your stall, refreshed and effortless. You washed your hands, fixed your hair and makeup just a bit in the mirror, and felt yourself again. You took mental selfies, since it was all you had.
As you left the bathroom, you heard the grunts and yells of men. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, but it sounded like some shit was fr going down. You crept to the source of the noise, coming from the men's bathroom. At first, you thought someone was probably constipated, but instead it was Arthur, John and a few others absolutely rocking this guy's shit. They were beating him, cutting him with the razors sewn into their goofy caps, and curb stomping his head into the sink. So sink stomping?
You made a gross face and walked back out. "Yeesh."
After all, it wasn't the first time you were so close to the mob.
You remember your number one golden rule you learned from earlier during your time with Pablo: Hear nothing, see nothing!
After walking past the dance floor again, you were relieved to see that everyone and everything had gone back to normal - people were back to dancing, drinking and chatting - back to the script. You actually forgot this was supposed to be a horse race.
But, there was no Tommy anywhere. You searched and searched, yet you couldn't find that 75% shaved head anywhere.
You then walked back outside by the entrance, where you saw a woman smoking. You went up to her.
"May I bum a smoke?" you asked in your best English accent, trying to speak their language. She turned to you and pulled one out, lighting it for you. "Thank you so much, you look lovely, darling."
The woman smiled. You loved hyping the girls up!
"You too. I must admit, I find your choice in wardrobe absolutely admirable and daring!"
You smiled, "Aww, really?" you quickly corrected your accent, "Oh dear, many thanks, many thanks yes."
You took a hit of that cigarette. Shit was gross. But when in Rome...
You and the woman spoke for some time, deep in conversation. It was refreshing to meet another girl here, safe to just talk shit and have a break from all the drunken men and oh no there's Tommy.
You saw him approaching you and he looked again, upset and emo. It didn't exactly burst your bubble, you really liked Tommy, but were afraid that you possibly embarrassed him in front of the Bilbo Timberland from earlier.
You bided the woman goodbye and walked towards Tommy. He then took you two back to his car and started off onto the road. By now, it was nearing evening. The car ride was pretty silent, you were looking out admiring the brief countryside. Shit was beautiful like a Microsoft Home Screen.
"So, what's wrong?" you asked. "You're like, down in the dumps again. And where are your brothers?"
"They'll find their own way home," Tommy said, low and serious, the usual.
"So is that it? Y'all got into a fight or something?"
He let out a deep breath. "I told Billy Kimber he could have a dance with you."
"Ew, why?"
"Well," he didn't want to say 'business', cause like okayyyyy shout out to 1920's gender roles!, "because you look...nice. You look pretty."
You blushed hard, trying to control your smile. Seeing this side of Tommy was like a sneak peak, it was so exclusive!
"Oh my god, Tommy, are you flirting with me? I didn't even know you had that setting available!"
He smirked, his frown OFFICIALLY being turned upside down. He chucked in disbelief of himself. He was falling.
Once you made it back to the neighborhood, the sun had gone down and the streets were once again pretty dark. Smoky depressing England like what the Smiths wrote about you get the vibe.
Anyway he took you to his flat, saying that he wanted to "show you something". You weren't sure what that something was, it could've honestly been like a dead body but actually it wasn't! It was dinner <3
"I've uh," he started, not crazy about the fact that he was falling for you, "I've prepared dinner."
You gasped and made a very soy ass face. How absolutely gentlemanly of him!
"Oh my god, no you didn't Tommy!" you said, "You're so sweet, that's like, so sweet! You shouldn't have!"
He smiled softly, in a "yeah I did that" sort of way. And he did just that. You were 90% sure whatever was inside he didn't cook, but it's the THOUGHT that counts!
He escorted you inside like the gentlemen he was, shutting the front door behind you two. The lights inside the flat were dim, and by the table were two plates. Upon closer inspection, you were absolutely FLOORED!!!!
"No way - tikka fucking masala?!" you exclaimed. He chuckled and it was hot.
You walked closer and saw two very familiar, VERY FAMILIAR, colorful orbs. You turned them to the side. All this time since you'd last seen one, you forgot what they were or looked like.
"AND FUCKING BUZZBALLS?!?!?!" you said. "Tommy, how the fuck did you even get these?"
He pulled the chair out for you, and you scooted your big fat butt in.
"I know people. It's my job."
You couldn't help but smirk.
"It's so hot when a man has connections," your dirty Jezebel mind thought.
He cracked the BuzzBalls opened and poured them for each of you, like it was some high end expensive ass champagne. You watched him, relishing in the moment - you had your GRIP on this man. Chivalry was in fact, despite popular belief, not dead. But it was also the 1920s so you forgot about that bit.
You looked down at your plate - you were going to fuck. this. up. He'd never seen this side of you - the side that would tear your meal like a fucking ape cracking open a coconut with a rock for water. You thought if you should warn him, but told yourself - he needs to know ME for ME.
You gripped that naan, grabbed a fat ass chunk of that chicken - and the moment it hit your lips, you had started giggling like Mark Weins again but subtract the poker face. You had forgotten the long lost love of spice other than pepper and salt. You could've cried if it hadn't been for the fact your makeup looked too good.
You two dined and wined (there's no wine) for the next hour, talking and talking and chewing and chewing. Seeing him eat was hard for your mind to process, you just never thought he was capable of it. Anyway as he was talking you felt bad because you were zoning out looking at him as if he was another dish of tikka masala. He had such a sigma vibe to him, maybe alpha? (I don't know I'm not familiar with gym bro brain rot TikTok lingo but you get the vibe.) He was just so manly and yet so gentle and calculating, it kinda scared you because like he could literally have everything set up to kill you right now and you wouldn't know cause you were too charmed. But then you realized, he wouldn't have done all this shit for someone he wanted dead. No girl, he just wanted YOU! Your toes tickled at the thought, and those butterflies? They were fluttering.
For the first time, you had anxiety but hadn't felt the need to shit yet. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol calming your nerves, or the chill vintage ambience going on, or Tommy's comfortable/intimidating presence. In other words, this felt natural and you were fucking with it.
There were several times you needed to burp, but forgetting you weren't with your girls, you had to swallow that shit deep. After all, girls don't burp. You tried to keep your femme fatale composure.
You were the light he needed in his very dark emo life. It had been a very long time since he had a genuine laugh, despite the fact he might have had no idea what the fuck you were talking about or saying half the time, but seeing you all bubbly and happy made him feel content. He was finally being vulnerable, letting go a little and just, well, living life. Being free. #livelaughlove
"What will you do? When you've saved enough for Scotland?" he asked.
The idea brought you down a bit. You forgot about that shit. "Oh, well, I don't know. I kinda like the barmaid stuff, so maybe I'll try to find something similar there?"
You were eating his leftovers. He didn't eat much but liked watching you eat like it was a mukbang. He loved a girl who eats.
"Why don't you stay?" he asked, avoiding eye contact with you as he poured himself another BuzzBall. You could tell he wasn't a fan but drank it anyway for you because you liked it.
You again couldn't help but smirk. You loved seeing a guy CRACK!!!
"Do you want me to?" you asked, biting your tongue like the white mom. You hadn't done that in a while either, this English life didn't permit it.
He took a sip from his drink. "Perhaps you'd be interested in working for me."
"Aren't I already, low-key though?"
"Garrison's not mine," he said. "Do you know anything about bookkeeping?"
He lit a cigarette and offered you one. You took it, not wanting to offend.
"Well, I gotta tell you," you said, "math is NOT my forte. But oh my god yes babe thanks!"
You ran over and jumped to hug him, he hugged tightly back, he then threw you on the hard table, pushing everything to the floor and you felt his member pressed against your leg. He began kissing you, his tongue licking your lips for entrance. You let him in. Your tongues fought for dominance but you let him win. He eventually started going down on you, taking your Skims dress clean off, and started kissing your labia.
"This...this is a bloody fucking labia," he says.
You lifted your legs as he began to eat you out, his wet breath on your cooter. He held your foot up and raised himself, ready to press his member into your entrance. Your eyes were closed, ready to take the boy from Birmingham in. This is it. No missed flights, no drunk men to call you Jezebels, no lung cancer from cigarettes and factory smoke, no IRS or IRA, nothing - just you and Tommy.
You and Tommy laid on his bed, in each other's arms. Since his bed was high-key smaller than a twin, it was pretty cramped, but neither of you minded. You two were smoking (him a cigarette and you your Elf bar), reminding you of that one band Cigarettes after Sex and how Tommy would've liked them, but they wouldn't drop music for another couple years in this time zone.
You two talked softly as the rain patterned on the window's glass, some of the street lights peering through the curtain. If there was some incense on, it'd be a vibe. You originally thought his opium pipe was an incense holder but you were very mistaken.
" - so yeah, that's why people picked team Jolie. But in all honesty, I feel bad for Jennifer, you know? Like, he literally cheated on her. Over what? A fucky boof ass movie? It was ass," you hit your Elf bar, refusing to accept it was dead. "I guess it doesn't matter now, cause NONE of them are together anymore. So what do you think? Aniston or Jolie?"
He took a drag of cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. He made an unsure face.
"I'm not familiar with them."
"True. Fine, let me think of something you'd know. Like something English drama," you thought. "Okay, team Blur or team Oasis? I hear there was a lot of blood shed during the battle of Britpop."
He again took another drag of his cigarette. Anyone would be looking at this and thinking he found you hella annoying, but he didn't. He just genuinely thought you had a great imagination.
"Neither, I guess. I don't have time to listen to music."
He was right, which was why he loved when you sang at the pub and most of all, to him during your private Lana concerts.
As time went on, you were in DEEP. Scotland? Yeah never heard of her. Not only were you working for Tommy doing whatever bookkeeping is, but he had even introduced you to his family, which you KNOW damn well is a sign that shit is serious.
You loved the Shelby's, even though they were a bit off their shit sometimes. But it wasn't anything new, you'd been well familiar with crazy families before. You loved talking shit with Polly, going to the 'cinema' with Ada, fucking with Arthur until he got mad, supplying John with his toothpicks and making little Finn believe in the fake number 'derf'. You got along with them well, they saw you as a perfect fit for the family - something different, vibrant and bright! You loved them and they loved you! Polly would even tell you in confidence that you made Tommy a happier person, something he lost after the war. Getting Polly's stamp of approval was literally it, that's all you needed.
And you and Tommy? Yeah y'all were a thing. An item. During work hours he'd give you little looks here and there, and so did you, as if it was some secret office romance. But it wasn't secret literally everyone knew you were his girl. And that's power.
You learned the ropes pretty fast, again it wasn't your first rodeo in the mob. It was like Colombia all over again, but we don't talk about that. Tommy fucked with you having a secretive criminal past, he thought it was pretty hot.
Besides bookkeeping, you still worked in the bar. All the patrons loved when you sang Lana, it just went on to prove that she's indeed a poet. They eventually memorized them and sang along, which annoyed you sometimes cause you just wanted to hear yourself and they sounded like ass when they were drunk. But you just go along with it!
Some of the songs you in the pub (and Tommy's room) sang included:
Bartender (cause hello? You're LITERALLY at a bar)
Shades of Cool (for Tommy's big blue ass eyes (you wished they could hear that guitar solo cause the acapella didn't do it justice :( ))
Cola (singing this for the fist time made you realize you had to censor a couple things, they weren't a fan of that intro)
Stargirl's Interlude (Lana's part obvi, but it's again for Tommy cause he's your starboy <3 he loved when you hit those high notes)
Brooklyn Baby (you avoided it cause it reminded you of your ex)
Video Games (hello it's for Tommy)
Love Song (this makes them all cry)
Money Power Glory (again hello it's Tommy, but this wouldn't hit until he's a member in Parliament)
National Anthem (being in England for so long made you forget the United States anthem)
Fucked My Way Up To The Top (literally you rn)
Speaking OF a bunch of drunk men, the gang loved you. You thought you were like the comedic relief of the little theater thing they had going on here. You had to admit, you admired the method acting everyone had done so far. It only, to you, proved that it worked, since you were GENUINELY left in deep in a psychosis where you're just a 1920's flapper girl.
There was some rules and etiquettes you needed to remember, however. One, was of course, the "BILLY FACKIN KIMBA", and another was you finding out Tommy did NOT fuck with brujeria or anything dark magic related. You thought it was kinda funny, he reminded you of those Reddit r/atheist accounts but at the same time, he was low-key scared of zodiacs. Not that he didn't like it, he was paranoid at them. You literally asked his zodiac sign and he responded very sternly and seriously,
"Y/N, don't."
You then said. "That's a very Capricorn thing to say."
Besides that, everything was great and chill.
It wasn't long before this annoying ass Irish inspector dude pulled up to the pub. Once he saw you, he locked eyes with you and approached the bar. You didn't like his vibe in the slightest. In fact, no one in the pub liked his vibe either. They all fell silent when he entered.
"Excuse, me, ma'am," he said. You turned, not really wanting to talk.
"Yeah, what?"
"Do you know about a Thomas Shelby?"
"Yeah, what about him?" you didn't fuck with anyone who referred to Tommy as Thomas. Like?
"Do you know where I can find him?"
You were really starting to not fuck with his vibe even more. Something was def fishy.
"You should really go back to being with the dinosaurs," you said. He didn't like that.
He leaned in. "Do you know who I am? Who do ya think you arrrrrre?" the R's went very crazy.
And just in time, as if he was your guardian angel, Tommy opened the doors to the little room beside the bar. Babes was hearing everything and he was NOT gonna let this dude talk shit to his girl like that.
"You need to speak to me? Inspector Campbell, is it?" he said. "I've read about you in the papers."
Tommy then took Campbell soup outside to speak. Before leaving, he (Tommy) gave you a wink and you winked back. You knew that was code for 'let's hit my flat later'. Little did you know, this would be the last time.....
P.S. - when you asked one of the men at the pub who he was and someone replied IRA, you originally interpreted that as the Irish IRS and shat yourself. You didn't know how to tell Tommy your time was ticking, they'd located you - but you were not going down without a fight.
You were both in his bedroom as usual, he was lying in bed smoking, you were hitting the Elf bar, rain pattering, English people yelling outside yeah you get the vibe. Anyway, he asked you to sing - a request you took quite seriously. You knew this was his only time of relaxation and you had to make the best of it before you break the news you needed to escape again.
You rose, sitting up and looking down at his BBL face.
"Lana or Nicki?"
"Lana."
"Can I do Nicki? You never ask for her."
He took a drag and nodded. "Go ahead."
This, now this would be where you fucked up. Let's just say, you wish you could wipe out this night from your memory. Alas, all things need to come to an end, even the good ones, unfortunately. You'd never thought it would be like this though tbh.
You stood up on the bed, as usual, cleared your throat all that bullshit. You thought and thought, "what's a good Nicki song? What's fitting?"
And then it hit you - it was definitely a deep cut.
He had a soft smile on his lips, watching you as you were thinking. Little did he know, you were going to harness a part of yourself you hadn't seen in a while. This was a mode you unlocked that was such a release after, and you knew you had to go all or nothing.
You cleared your throat.
"Okay, so this one's kinda not AS well known, but it has British themes I think work well," you prefaced. "Okay, here I go."
The moment you opened your mouth, you let the spirit of Nicki come in. And once she's in, there's no going back. And Tommy was not prepared for that. You then started Nicki's verse in Sean Kingston's "Born To Be Wild".
"♪ If you will die, then why would you try and if you reply, a suit and a tie is what I will buy then you will be mine because you and I were born to be wild, I am Martha you King Arthur who knew you would land me, I’ve been known to eat these rappers, cook em like chef Ramsey - ♪"
You were too deep to notice Tommy's rapid increasing worry and fear as you spat out those lyrics. It was too overstimulating for him to handle. You ate, but that was just want concerned him - he didn't know you were rapping. In fact, no one at this current time did.
" ♪ - Mission accomplished, your my accomplice cover of vogue yeah ima go topless ima go bonkers ima go crazy ima get reckless then have a baby then hang the baby off the balcony teach him to moon walk tell em he's Japanese - ♪ "
No, he thought you were putting a curse on him. No, he was CONVINCED.
"Stop! STOP!" Tommy rose from his bed, pushing the sheets off of him.
You were shaken out of your trance, confused. You became worried, what happened? Did you miss something? Were y'all in danger?
"Wait, Tommy -"
"Enough! Stop!" you had never seen panic in that man's eyes. Never. And you didn't like it. He was looking straight at you, talking to YOU.
"Stop what -"
"You're a bloody fucking witch!" he yelled, rubbing his hand through his hair while the other TIGHT on his hip. This was his evaluating stance. "That's what this is - that's what it's been."
"Uh, Tommy," you said, more annoyed that he interrupted your moment, "I'm no witch. I'm just, well, Y/N."
He took a deep breath, now facing away from you. He couldn't believe it. All this time, all that mumbo jumbo that came out of your mouth, all this time - they were just that. Curses. No wonder he didn't understand them, you were literally speaking in tongues this whole time.
You walked towards him, slowly. This man needed that opium right now.
"Tommy -"
"Leave. LEAVE!" he yelled, grabbing your messy bun, and doing what you didn't think would happen again for a very long time - he beybladed you.
Spin. Spin. Spin.
"LET IT BLOODY RIP!"
And there it was.
And there you went.
He twisted you in the air round and round, ready for a different kind of liftoff. He flung you out the window, you crashed through and onto the cobblestone streets of Birmingham.
That was it. All these months, all this rehearsing - it all came to an end. On a random Tuesday evening? The Tommy you once thought you knew was no more - after all this time, he never trusted you? Didn't he know who you were? Like dude he watched you be vulnerable at fuck up a tikka masala. TWO of them at that.
Anyway, you realized maybe the entirety of UK just wasn't your vibe, anyway. With this 'IRA' now in town, your ass needed to be grass. Before leaving, you broke into his horse racing betting place whatever it's called and committed a little fun heist, taking all the money. What? A girl needed to sustain herself in this economy. Dog eat dog world shit. And plus, all your stuff was back at his apartment and you were DEF not gonna go back. Who knows? Was HE working for the Men In Black? Wining and dining you to gain his trust and he turned you in? Maybe he did you a favor in the end.
And maybe you could upgrade to the latest iPhone when you got to London with all this horse money? With a shilling and a pound, the possibilities seemed endless.
You walked down the streets, sad, but again more confused and a little relieved, onto your next destination, wherever that maybe. Anywhere Y/N went, it was all just a big adventure of a girl having fun being, well, just a girl having fun in this world. And THAT'S all that matters.
Hope you enjoyed!
xoxo,
~Sam St. Clair
#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby x y/n#cillian murphy#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader#fanfiction#imagine#smut#x reader#oppenheimer#oppenheimer x reader
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@oveliagirlhaditright I'm putting my Missing Link thoughts in another post because it would be too long, and honestly I have SO MANY thoughts about why the basic premise of KHML was a bad idea (completely separate from my own distaste for the "Ephemer is Xehanort's ancestor" stuff that might be in it)
Because you're right to mention Pokemon Go and it really, REALLY feels to me like it's just trying to ride the hype from the mobile ARG boom that started with Pokemon Go a whole eight years ago. Because KHML as a concept doesn't even seem to be utilizing any of the unique features of an ARG that make them appealing
There's two real franchise-based mobile ARGs that I ever remember hearing about: Pokemon Go and Harry Potter: Wizards Unite*. These two projects do make sense to me, as opposed to KHML because of the way that both franchises make use of the central concept of the augmented reality feature. They're additions to reality, which both series already played around with. HP takes place in our reality, but with a "what if magic was real and just hidden" premise, so it's insanely easy to make an ARG that's just "yeah, you're one of the people in on the secret magical society that always existed in the real world." Pokemon takes place in an alternate version of our world; every location in Pokemon is based on a real-world location. So that's also a natural progression for it, and it's easy to pretend that the "reality" you see in the ARG is just the Pokemon world. Other than location names and the presence of Pokemon, the Pokemon world is practically identical to reality
That is literally the central concept of an ARG. To make the game part of reality. And that just doesn't work with KH, a game about flying through space to reach Disney worlds. Sure, some of us might have wanted to pretend to be Keyblade wielders as kids, but did we want to be wielders in our small backyards? Not even imagining that they were another location, but the yards as they were? No! We wanted to be in the Disney worlds! Or Traverse Town! The central facet of ARG gameplay doesn't mesh with the functionality of a story-based canonical title. And so what do they do to force it to work? Complicate the lore with the Astral Planes, which completely take the "reality" out of Augmented Reality aside from... a map? Like, it might have worked with Quadratum depending on how much of "our reality" that ends up being, but that's not at all what they're doing
Additionally, ARGs are not conducive to story-heavy games! You're supposed to play them while walking around town, maybe stopping for a few minutes to take a break. Or you play them on work/school breaks. You need to be able to pick them up, play a bit for 10 minutes, and put them down. The typical gameplay cycle for most ARG players does not include 20 minutes just to watch cutscenes to get the Exclusive Lore before being able to do anything, and the people who like KH for the story aren't going to want to wait all the time for their mobile game energy to recharge before they can get their cutscenes (a thing that even KHUx did away with for story chapters after some time!)
The entire decision to make KHML an ARG, to me, feels like corporate checking off a box of "style of game that got popular in recent memory" and trying to copy it rather than thinking of the gameplay as a medium in and of itself to tell a story. Nothing about the ARG concept works with what KH is at its core, and I honestly feel like they unintentionally admitted that when it was announced that you'd be able to play it without leaving home. What is the point of making it an ARG at all if you're going to remove literally the only benefit that it has as a medium, as opposed to something that could benefit the story you're trying to tell? We are a long way from the days of TWEWY making revolutionary use of the DS technology to have its gameplay tell a significant part of its story
In an ideal world, I think that KHML should have been an MMO like we thought KHx was going to be back when it was announced. They wouldn't have to mess with the lore to make it work, other players running around would help to "populate" Scala ad Caelum in a natural way, people could form "families" with their friends to further the bloodlines narrative, and MMOs can function on the drip-fed narrative style that they wanted. It doesn't even have to be a big-budget MMO like FF14, because I actually do like KH3's artstyle and KHML's simpler usage of it (it manages to be distinctive and colorful, working in hallmarks of Nomura's hand-drawn style while still being more detailed than the PS2-era). It could just be... basically what it is now, but they add in new Disney worlds every couple of months to keep the story going
And now here we are, with a game that was supposed to be out by the end of 2023 still missing (lol) and only having had two betas by the near-midpoint of 2024 because they're having developmental issues that I would personally guess have to do with the game's self-defeating nature. I find it very frustrating
*Adding in, Wizards Unite literally ran for less than three years (June 2019 - Jan 2022) before shutting down so even being tied to a big-name franchise couldn't save it. I have a strong hunch that the Covid-19 lockdowns played a huge part in killing the ARG boom so it's doubly insane to me why Square Enix thought trying to bring it back was a good idea
#liz's shenanigans#kingdom hearts#khml#kingdom hearts missing link#yes this is a negative post so feel free to not look if you want to keep your khml hype up#i figured it should be its own post though since i had someone ask me my thoughts in dms#and like man idk i want to like khml but i have so many issues with the very premise and the way that khdr introduced the bloodlines thing#that i am just not feeling it#will i probably check it out? sure. but right now i'm not excited about it#tldr; khml being a mobile arg (for playing on the go and interacting with reality) feels contradictory to kh as a lore/plot heavy#action game series set in a purely fictional setting
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OMG, the script said Dean "can't" reciprocate, not that he "doesn't"! This means he must have wanted to and a vast queer-suppression conspiracy at the CW totally exists!!! [X]
Just... The extent to which being a heller seems to make you absolutely blind to how other conclusions besides the one you desperately want to be true aren't magically wished out of existence just by waffling in circles chasing your own tail on and on and on...
She's trying to make the difference in Castiel's speech that leaves ambiguity - I love you versus I'm in love with you - happen in the opposite direction with that script note. Except it doesn't work, because there is no such fundamental difference in usage meaning of can't and doesn't built in there. She desperately wants can't to mean there HAS TO be some kind of external pressure there. Except whereas nobody would intentionally say "I'm in love with you like a brother"? You can switch out can't and doesn't and they work equally well to mean functionally the same thing. Let's take the potential reasons mentioned:
Dean can't reciprocate because he has no such feelings for Castiel. Dean doesn't reciprocate because he has no such feelings for Castiel.
In the canon itself, Dean made it clear his feelings about Castiel were friendly/familial/brotherly over and over again. Jensen has made it clear over and over again how he sees, and how he was choosing to portray, Dean and Castiel's relationship - if we're going to count actor's statements as word of god, it's fucking absurd to pretend anyone else's count more than the actor actually making the choices in depicting what his emotions are. Even after the goodbye scene, Jensen's statements haven't changed - except to add speculation that angels may not even understand love in the same way humans do. Putting aside whether Dean was even sure enough of what he meant, given the ambiguity? Dean simply not feeling the same fits with everything we know (and they deny) about canon Dean. Whether that's the same in terms of romantic love, or the same in terms of the level of effusive word vomit Castiel was spewing out.
Dean can't reciprocate because he's too shocked in the moment. Dean doesn't reciprocate because he's too shocked in the moment.
Except in the canon itself, we see how Dean reacts after he's had time to process. While the Winchesters still worried about Chuck destroying the world, sure, Dean does seem excited at the implication Castiel might have been resurrected again - when they still need any allies on their side they can get. But when the apocalyptic shit is all over? When Sam brings up missing Castiel, Dean basically shrugs it off and says they should live their lives. When Dean gets to heaven and Bobby mentions Castiel helping Jack, Dean just goes and drives in his car. He doesn't ask if Castiel is in heaven, ask how to find him, seem to care, nothing. If we count TW, there's still no Castiel and no mention of Castiel in Dean's vicinity. Sam is Dean's reason (still). Bobby and Jack are there. Castiel? [insert bad negative space meta here] If he really felt twue lurve for the angel and just needed time to process as they have been insisting since, like, season four? It should be pretty clear at this point the amount of time to process that non-existent feeling into canon reality is fucking infinity.
Dean can't reciprocate because Bobo's hand got slapped. Dean doesn't reciprocate because Bobo's hand got slapped.
Except outside of canon, in the real world, not their conspiracy theorist fantasies? We were directly told that reciprocation was never even pitched. Nobody got their hand slapped down, because Berens and Misha knew nobody would give a fuck if they threw away what was left of Castiel's character in their shitty last minute queerbait, but dragging Dean down with him was a different story. In the hellers' heads, because they desperately want it to be so, D/C is some truism of the universe that is poised to spring into being if only the haters would stop holding it back!!! Out of a whole room of writers and executive producers - including a few who variously said they had not, were not, and would not be writing any kind of canon lurve story between those two characters? One bitter hack who knew what he could (and couldn't) get away with and therefore didn't even try to legit make it canon is not some conspiracy. Bobo the clown isn't some universal truth teller of ThE ReAL stOrY of SpN fighting for great justice just because he gave them the closest thing to validation they were gonna get (as ambiguous, one-sided, and utterly cringe as it was). No matter how many times they lie about it, before the takeover the CW was one of the - if not the most - friendly network(s) towards LGBT+ content. Nobody even seriously considering making your single specific OOC ship canon is not oppression or censorship FFS.
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Forward: This post isn't meant judgmentally, targeted at anyone in particular or as a gotcha and I write in entirely good faith.
A question I have for white folks in particular (but also abled people, cis people, etc, but also everyone in general who votes) when engaging with electoral politics is, are you taking measures to protect the rest of us from your candidates? There's no perfect candidate for sure, but that means people will be hurt, and as voters we have a responsibility to call out and prevent harm that our candidates do; if we aren't then we're directly complicit in that harm. Are you willing to put your bodies and minds on the line to protect those who aren't going to be protected by those candidates? Because of the nature of US politics, our own candidates need to be challenged just as fiercely as if someone else got elected.
Again, I'm not against voting at all! I literally vote blue every time and in every election. I think there's strategic value in it, but we have to actually strategize, which hasn't been getting done. Are we actually engaging with why people are hesitant to vote? People use the "you're damaging your own cause!" whenever people seen as "scary leftists" participate in their actions, but it's never applies to liberal and electoral politics even though the same can be said. Trying to harp on and guilt people into voting when without engaging with why that is just damages the cause and pushes them further away. Also note that the majority of people critical of the way electoral politics are done are BIPOC; this is important to think about.
The democrats are objectively better for more people than the republicans, but there are people who are destitute to the point where those two parties are the same. Palestinians for example! Democrats also fund police measure against homeless folks as we see in the PNW, which is strongly blue. Indigenous people here are another similar group– the way indigeneity is legislated here, they're literally programmed to eventually go extinct from a legal standpoint due to the colonial law of blood quantum. Not to mention that reservations are literally, in their words, concentration camps.
Are you going to make things better for yourself and leave others to fall through the cracks? Or are you going to use that to lift everyone else up? This traditionally hasn't been the case, so if you want BIPOC voters to trust you, you have to demonstrate that you won't get attached to you candidates and hold them on a pedestal.
How are you going to assuage fears when people get anxious (and they will!) without also invalidating their fears (which is common under electoral politics votes). Can you do this without a lot of the manipulative tactics a lot of outlets use? (Blaming disaffected BIPOC for when things go wrong, using the "well the other guy is worse!" line.) Folks ask for 1000 step plans when talking about non-electoral political elements, but when engaging with electoral politics people treat it like magic, and if anyone falls through the cracks and complains, they're just being cantankerous. This is only a small percentage of the things that need to be considered.
Election season is also really retraumatizing for folks who have colonized backgrounds. Are you making sure we feel safe? Are we being thought about as real people, instead of just abstracts or as a resource to generate votes, but who are just being obstinate? (As opposed to again, real people with real motivations)
As a final note, people also comment on "Why abstain anyways when you know it's going to be bad either way?" for particularly marginalized people, and I think the answer (folks in those situations can correct me here) is that it's more cathartic to watch the people who let you slip through the cracks fall with you, than slipping through the cracks and watching those same people have brunch and pretend you and your problems don't exist. It's like being trapped in a room with only crumbs to eat while the people on the other side of the door throw a dinner party, and if you complain, yell at you saying that the other guys wouldn't even give you crumbs.
#Ad nauseum mention that I vote blue every time#I'm just the messenger here so direct any angry words at the people running electoral campaigns#Being upset isn't going to change anything#us politics#Sorry if this is jumbled I threw this together in a shabbat half-asleep fugue
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When I think of how dangerously irresponsible it was of team rwby to drop Atlas on Mantle, I think back to FF7 Remake/ Intergrade when Shinra drops the Sector 7 plate and you see the absolute havoc of people running for their lives and their homes being crushed by debris. Just this terrifying, claustophobic experience which makes it all the more jarringly casual it's portrayed in rwby.
I don't know anything about Final Fantasy, but hard agree about how casually all this was portrayed in Volume 8. Though we're obviously missing pieces of the upcoming Volume 9, we currently have a timeline that reads:
Decide to destroy an entire Kingdom
No one questions, discusses, tries to prevent, or freaks out about that
Civilian horror is tied primarily to the Vacuo grimm attack -- an event the heroes set up -- not the fate of their Kingdom
Really, none of them should even know that Atlas is gone yet. They were shuffled through magical portals (which, from their perspective, shouldn't exist) and I have little to no faith that anyone will respond emotionally to learning, "Hey, did a bunch of barely licensed teenagers just destroy our home with magic?"
The emotional impact of this event for the heroes is nonexistent because the writers were so focused on crafting Ironwood into the 'perfect' villain. The mood of that scene is somewhat celebratory because the fate of Atlas and Mantle is simultaneously the fate (death) of our villain of the Volume. Putting aside the absurdity of Ironwood filling that role when Salem is right there, walking away with even more power, it's really mind-boggling that with the exception of Qrow's horror specifically for the girls -- note that the audience knows they're safe in whatever reality they've fallen into -- the takeaway is, "Yay, the evil rich city is destroyed, evil Ironwood is dead, and most of the citizens have escaped. They'll be fine because they're with the heroes. So this is a win!" Like, don't get me wrong, the finale is super depressing for plenty of reasons the story intends (like Penny) but that emotion isn't tied to the Kingdom's destruction. The story does not care that Atlas is lost. In fact, it presents it as, if not an overtly good thing, than an inevitable necessity with a bunch of unintentional upsides. Which is a mess of an ethical claim in a story that's trying to be all, "There are Good People and Bad People and that divide is actually very easy to determine despite us pretending that there's gray."
Then our leader and protagonist cries for a few seconds before, and I cannot stress this enough, getting distracted by a talking mouse.
Sure, there are indeed straightforward reasons why we don't get a scene like in FF (the residents are already evacuated when their home is destroyed. At least, all the residents that matter to the show's ethics have been evacuated), but the real question is why RWBY crafted a scenario in which the obliteration of an entire Kingdom and the horrific death of a former hero is something that the residents of that Kingdom aren't a part of and the heroes, our responsible party, shrug off. "They'll definitely tackle the impact of this in Volume 9!" I don't think they will and even if they do, it doesn't matter. The show failed to have the character weigh (and justify) the significance of that action when they were making it, so any follow up of, "Wow. What we did was kinda serious, huh? :/ " is going to read as hollow at best, infuriating at worst. Oh, now you're considering the impact of your actions. Now you're feeling remorse. Now when it won't do any good (because, let's face it, we're not getting an arc involving the girls changing their behavior. I'm all for characters making HUGE mistakes and learning from it, but RWBY doesn't let the characters learn anything anymore) and the impact of having this in the past will encourage everyone to respond with a, "It had to be done." Yang's speech in Volume 8 about how every mistake they've made was Completely Justified and Heroic gives me no hope that the show will do anything other than continue to treat Atlas' destruction as the inconsequential necessity it absolutely was not.
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Cap (evil beast who plays with my emotions <3) lore questions for PN!! (unrelated to the thing i'm writing, i just realised i can just, well, ask you about the things i've been wondering about)
obviously if any of this veers off into spoilers territory or would lead to you pointing out something you wish to keep close to your chest, do just say :)
Numero Uno: i don't speak spanish not sure what that is, so we know that Juleka is every cats favourite human friend, is that just because its cute (valid) or is there more to why they flock to her? and does this happen to other miraculous holders? as i may just be forgetting something, apologies, but i don't remember if marinette has spoken about experiencing this as well
2) what was with the crows. tell me please. was it just for the.. i forgot its name- the really fucking cool thing which was amazingly written (metallica moment) or is this a new creature that follows her around due to symbolism or that you just wanted to use to foreshadow Cool Things Dead Ahead, once again, why are the other holders not experiencing this (or is it just 'off screen'?)
3) at the end of the chapter it was very very fast tonal change, civilians don't seem to be taking hawky boy as seriously as they should even those majorly affected, now this is obviously because a) he attacks with the stupidest looking guys b) no consequences due to ladybug and c) even the heroes seem to be content with goofing off, so will there be a tonal shift in public opinion as things become more serious or will that continue to be something they have to wrok against, the fact that as soon as an attack is over all fear of these events seems to dissipate (although we have seen that our core heroes seem to understand the severity of the situation slightly more) or am i being silly and the fast moving on is people posturing to not seem as affected?
4) are they being paid for the work they do...? like, i feel as though they should be and we all know that people like to throw money at things they like to show that affection, so even if it wasn't a government (or i suppose just the mayor) funded thing they would still end up with money from people. wait now i'm creating problems in my head of people pretending to be the heroes online to get money- scrap this one people would scam others if it was a thing <3 i just think it'd be nice if they were financially compensated... i feel like chloe would panic with more money and try to find a charity she likes only to end up making her own for very specific a very specific cause...
5) is there any fun world building things / lore that you want to discuss? i have for sure missed a lot of things i'm curious about this was just off the top of my head as i was musing about panthera, but its always interesting to see dealers choice
(bonus question, do you have specific real cats /designs in mind for minou and parrot? if so show us the beasts, in case you can't tell from the everything about me i like cats and would enjoy that greatly)
Number Hana! (lets learn some korean shall we?) Miraculous holders do indeed attract their animals! It's like a drawn magic thing. The animals aren't per say processed but they have this innate desire to follow and to find interest in the holder. (Marinette has been followed by ladybugs. Bees will follow Chloe soon. And so on and so forth.)
Number Dul! The crows are... lets say Juleka's thing. Not Panthera's thing. Not the cat miraculous's thing. Juleka's thing. Although.. half of those birds are only there cause they recognize and like her in an actual bird way and not a magic way. They hang around Rose's window a lot (both at the hospital and at home) and corvids have amazing memory on who is friend and foe!
Crows and Ravens- they're a sign of bad luck and death. They only started to show up around Panthera very recently. Imagine like, just days before Hero's Day they've started to show up more and more. Juleka finds them a bit, ominous, but is nice to them anyways as respect. Unfortunately this just attracts more birds, poor Adrien's allergies...
Number Set! I would say the in universe answer is more so "A" and just, the underlined layer of spite against Hawkmoth. Paris banded together and won against him, so their confidence is pretty high by the fact they somehow really did scare him off. Only the B Team are also goofing over it as well, though for them there's a slight edge, while our main two LB and PN are the most on edge.
As for the meta answer on why I wrote it like that- I just wanted you guys to have a sorta light reprieve from the angst. Some funny scenes to lighten the suffering I threw you guys into.
Number Net. Chloe's been trying their best to get them money!!!!!!! I can't remember if it's working or not.
Number Daseot. Hmmmmm.. Nothing comes to mind exactly.. I will say to keep an eye out for how I write Fei in the upcoming Shanghai chapters and how she relates to Juleka. Shanghai Special will be setting up some.. themes for Season 3. That's all.
(I got nothing on Minou he was just always a blobby void cat born from my mind. Parrot was designed a bit after my Nephew who is a cat and also the tiktok cat Reznor!)
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Things that are real
In my downward spiral I took it upon myself to do some research on OFFICIAL government websites and youtube. There were some outlandish conspiracy theorists that also pointed me in the right direction, but I thought they and I were just crazy. We aren't, but it is up to you to do your research. I'm spoon feeding you in ways I was not.
GOD is real, but that may not be the Creators true name, also why do we asign them a gender? Why must we separate right from wrong?
Lucifer and the Devil and the creatures from hell, are also real, but don't focus on them... take my word for it and focus on someone who will actually genuinely help you. Not someone who will just pretend to exacerbate your situation
Gangstalking is real, hopefully you just think I'm crazy and NEVER have to experience it first hand.
MKULTRA is real, documented, and practiced. Warning others sometimes triggers a Manchurian reaction. The reaction does not allow the person to hear the truth. And brings out a personality that is in control. Not the kind person you are trying to help. Not sure how to bypass that.
The esoteric and the spiritual are also real. Word of advice, leave that alone. Manly P. Hall has a good cautionary speech about that. it is on youtube. On magic and why to avid it.
Nazis are real, very well, an very much alive, anyone of color or white and fighting for justice is disliked in those circles. They also tend to kill you with kindness. It is best to leave them alone.
Targeted energy weapons are real. I may make a full blown blog post about it, but In case you can't read it here is a nutshell.
They use weapons to mimic certain conditions and make you act a certain way. It looks like they are psychic, it LOOKS like they are controling you remotely with telekinesis or possesion. And while there are groups that may exist that do that I am not aware of that factually. What I do know, is weapons include poisons and drugs, sound pulses, nanobots, hidden cameras, hacking, and manipulation. That is where I will leave that. By the way, this has all been confirmed on official websites. I didn't even KNOW about half these things until the GS begun. Again, I hope you just think I'm crazy and don't ever find yourself in this situation.
Don't believe everything you see. It has come to my attention that people don't have to be themselves anymore. Apparently years ago tey use to wear masks that were so hyper realistic people believed they were talking to genuine people. These people don't actually exist, They are aliases and fake identities.
Learn their tactics so you may protect yourself. They will always be one step ahead in the beggining, unless you started years ago.
I think I'll add more to this eventually. But since some of you think I am crazy, I dare you to prove yourselves wrong, state your sources, and use reliable sources. The information is out there and it is being used against some of us.
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This Ends Tonight- Magical Mystery Ride Chapter Twenty One
Author’s Note- Tyler and Lex take matters into their own hands when Benn continues to be an ass to Teddy. This is wholly unrealistic, I get it but it was so cathartic to write. Apologies if you are a Benn fan. I am sure he is a nice guy in real life- just not in this universe.
Word Count- approximately 8K
Warnings- physical violence, implied sex, vulgar language
Previous chapter- https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/665806764141379584/boundaries-magical-mystery-ride
@newlibrary @mattytkachuk19 @miranda0102; @hockeyunits @thighlerseguin
Saturday, November 17th
"Pretty One" Tyler yelled from his bedroom, "Can you come in here?'
"Coming," Teddy walked in dressed in Tyler's button down shirt from last night's game suit that she had found discarded on the floor. She carried two mugs of coffee and placed one mug on one of the night stands by Tyler’s side of the bed. Gerry followed her into the room. The young dog had developed the habit of staying glued to Teddy's side whenever she was at Tyler's house. "What's up sweetie?" she asked as she admired his shirtless form and gray sweatpants.
Tyler nodded his head toward Gerry, "You know that he looks for you when you are not here? He searches all over, then goes to the door, and finally comes to me when he can’t find you. Don't you Ger?" Gerry looked at Tyler and wagged his tail. Tyler continued, "Can you hang out in here before you go? So I can see you as I pack?" The tone of his voice was softer than normal so she resisted the urge to tease him.
The upcoming road trip was a relatively short five days in New York/Boston/Pittsburgh, but it butted up against Thanksgiving holiday. Tyler’s family would be in town by the time that he flew back late Wednesday night/Thursday morning. Each of them were nervous about the holiday, primarily for the same reason. It would be the first time for Teddy to meet Tyler’s family and the first time for the families to meet each other.
Teddy sat crossed legged on the bed and watched him pack quietly as she drank her coffee. Years of road travel had made him an expert on packing efficiently. She grabbed his hand as he put boxers into his bag, "Hey, is everything okay? You seem distracted or something." she asked with concern in her voice.
Tyler squeezed her hand, "Sure, just thinking about some things. We're good. Don't let your anxiety start lying to you."
Teddy smiled, "Let me know if you want to talk about it. Thanks for the reassurance though. You know me well, Mr. Seguin."
He grinned and continued packing. "I want to cuddle before you leave. I need a big dose of Teddy love before I go to practice and on the road. No leaving until I get it. Understand?"
Teddy put on her blue jeans and tucked in Tyler's shirt before crawling back on the bed. She had plans to eat breakfast with Katie after Tyler left for practice. Tyler zipped his bag and crawled behind Teddy. He wrapped his body around hers and put his chin on her shoulder, "What are you going to do while I am gone?"
Teddy grabbed his hand and wrapped it around her body. "I am going to help my mom prepare for Thanksgiving, I want to get videos queued and maybe buy some new vibrators" she said when she noticed that he was hearing, but not listening to what she said. He didn't respond beyond "mmmhmm".
Teddy whipped her head around, "Okay, what’s up Tyler? What are you thinking about because you aren't listening to me?”
"Yes, I am," he blushed.
"So what am I buying?" she chided.
"Unmmm, make up?" he guessed.
Teddy rolled over, "Tyler, your head is not here in this room. I'm not upset or anything, but quit trying to pretend that it is. You don't have to talk to me about whatever is going on, but please talk to someone?"
Tyler blinked slowly, "How did you read my mind? It's freaking me out a little bit."
Teddy smiled, "Tyler, we have been friends for over a year. Yes, I still consider you to be my friend. I know your mind like the back of my hand. You know my mind so well that you knew that my anxiety was about to spiral out of control and you knew to reassure me."
Tyler kissed her forehead, "I love that mind-always have."
Teddy kissed his chest, "Not sure about always, but thanks. My mind adores you even if you don't get my vibrator joke."
Tyler laughed, "What? Tell me the vibrator joke."
Teddy shook her head and stuck out her tongue, "Nope, the moment has passed."
Tyler smirked, "I promise that I will talk to someone IF you promise not to start freaking out about meeting my family until at least Wednesday morning. Deal?"
Teddy blinked, "Why does that feel like blackmail?"
Tyler shot back "It's a fine line between blackmail and negotiation, Teddy."
Teddy kissed both of his cheeks, "Fine-Promise, no freaking out until Wednesday. I am going to miss your face though. It’s my favorite face in the whole world."
They cuddled for another ten minutes before Tyler had to leave for practice and the scheduled flight afterwards.
Later that Night- Boston
Tyler knocked on the door of the large, suburban home and heard the sound of a crying toddler and footsteps. The door swung open and a petite blonde stood with an upset baby on her hip. “Babe, Seggy is here,” she called to her husband as she stepped back to allow Tyler to walk in. He gave the blonde, Katrina, a quick side hug before walking in.
“What’s wrong Sawyer?” Tyler asked the blonde cutie on her mother’s hip.
“She’s overly tired,” Brad Marchand answered as he came down the hall.
“Sawyer, come to Daddy and give Mama a break,” he said softly as he tousled her hair and took her from her mother’s arms. “Did you eat already? We can order pizza.”
“Nah, I can’t stay that long. I have a big game tomorrow.” Tyler joked.
Brad led them down the hall to the family room. “Here you go Sawyer, play with the blocks,” he said gently as he put her down. “So what’s up with the cryptic text?” he asked as he sat down and turned down the volume on the TV.
Tyler glanced at the TV then back at the veteran defenseman, “So ummmm, how did you know Katrina was the one?”
Marchand’s eyebrows shot up, “So the rumors are true, then?”
Tyler’s head swiveled to face Brad, “What rumors?”
Marchand shrugged his shoulders, “That you went and fell in love. You fell in love with Big Rig’s ex to be exact.”
Tyler’s jaw tensed. He knew that Teddy’s relationship with Big Rig had been common knowledge among the team. He did not know, however, that it was common knowledge in rest of the NHL world. Tyler looked down, “It’s complicated. That’s what's out there though? That she is his ex?”
Marchand asked, “Why is it complicated? Fill me in.”
Tyler spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the history of Teddy and him and the history of Teddy and Oleksiak. At the end, he looked up at his long-time friend and ex-teammate with an unreadable expression on his face.
Marchand hesitated, “Look, I understand that’s complicated. For you, it makes a difference if they were actually dating or not dating- whatever the hell it was. The rest of the world isn’t going to see it like that. They are going to make assumptions based on the fact that they were having sex. Now, you have to decide if it’s an issue for you or not.”
Tyler shook his head, “I really don’t care who she fucked before me. You know I don’t have the right to judge anyone for the number of people they’ve fucked.”
Marchand interjected, “Well, not having the right to judge has never stopped some people from judging. I get you don’t care about her past with Oleksiak, but you do care what everyone else thinks about it, right?”
Tyler put his head in hands and stayed silent for a minute, “I don’t. I really don’t. Fuck’em and fuck what they think. ”
Marchand smiled, “Then let it go. People are going to talk shit and it sucks, but you know her. If it’s not an issue, don’t let it be an issue.”
Tyler rubbed his hands together, “So back to the question- how did you know that Katrina was the one?”
Marchand leaned back, “I just knew. I knew when I wasn’t thinking about the next girl. I knew when she was the only one I wanted to spend time with. I fell in love with her and her kid and all the messiness that came along with it.”
Tyler asked, “Do you miss it though? Do you miss the other women? Do you miss partying?”
Marchand sat up and smiled, “Not at all- at least not in the way that you think. I can still throw back with the best of them. You know that, we still party together. She and I have boundaries and I don’t push them. Believe me there isn’t another woman who is worth risking what I have. She’s the one who knows all my bullshit, my past and loves me anyway. That shit is rare. If you find it, hold onto it.”
Tyler nodded, “Makes sense.”
Marchand slapped Tyler on the back, “Is she the one, dude?”
Tyler smiled, “Yeah, I think that she is. Marchy, just wait until you meet her. She’s fucking amazing. Oh man- she is drop dead gorgeous, super smart, funny as hell, sexy as fuck. She’s the whole package. She doesn’t let me get away with anything, constantly busting my balls, but I love her. Man, I love her. ”
Marchand stood up and laughed, “Yeah, you’re done.”
Tyler stood and walked with Marchand to the door, “Hey, thanks for talking to me. It cleared out the cobwebs and makes much more sense now.”
“Don’t fuck it up Seggy- you’ll regret it,” he patted Tyler on the back as he walked out to his Uber.
Teddy was at a WAG's Girl's Night Out. She looked down at her phone, smiled and responded to his text. Going to the dueling piano bar seemed like a good idea at the time when they planned the evening. With the guys being on the road and the stress of the holidays approaching, it seemed like a good idea for everyone to let off a little steam. So far, it had been Teddy and Katie trying to corral the younger, single girls who were drunk snapchatting and the older married women who were going feral without their kids. Teddy laughed and asked Katie, “Who is worse to corral- drunk hockey boys or WAGs?”
Katie rolled her eyes, “Definitely WAGs. At least drunk hockey boys were scared shitless of me and compliant. These women? I need a stick and a net to keep them contained. When did we become the responsible ones, Teddy? When?”
Teddy laughed, “That’s what you get when you fuck the captain.”
It was approximately three AM when Teddy finally made it back to her apartment. She considered not calling Tyler, but between the drunken shenanigans and the time, she was desperate to hear his voice.
Tyler- Hey pretty one. What time is it?
Teddy- It’s nearly 4 oclock your time, Sweet One. Just letting you know that I am home safely
Tyler- Put Gerry on the phone
Teddy- Tyler, I am at my apartment- not your house, remember?
Tyler- Oh yeah, I forgot.
Teddy- Please tell me that you were asleep.
Tyler- Oh yeah, I was dreaming about this beautiful redhead. One time she let me fuck her in a strange house. She’s insatiable.
Teddy- Tyler…..
Tyler- Yes, Pretty One
Teddy was silent for a while
Tyler- Teddy?
Teddy- Sorry- had an anxious moment- not going to stress until Wednesday. I made a promise to my boyfriend.
Tyler- Boyfriend? Lucky guy
Teddy- Sweet One- I am glad you are my boyfriend. Get some sleep.
Tyler- I love you Pretty One
Teddy- Love you Sweet One
Monday, November 19th
Teddy settled in to watch the Stars play the Rangers. She felt her anxiety building. Although she promised to keep it in check, it was becoming a struggle. An idea popped in her head and she picked up the phone.
Elizabeth- Teddy Bear
Teddy- Hey Mamacita. Is Daddio around?
Elizabeth- I think he is getting ready to watch Tyler's game. What's up?
Teddy- Would it be the end of the world if we move dessert prep to tomorrow instead of Wednesday? I had an idea to go to Pittsburgh for the game Wednesday night.
Elizabeth paused- Will you be back Thursday morning to help with the rest?
Teddy- that depends on if I can use the jet.
Elizabeth called out to Robert and asked about the jet. He gave the all clear.
Teddy- let me just run it by Tyler. I will let you know tonight.
Tyler called from his hotel room after the game. His voice was warm and tender. The Stars had lost to the Rangers after beating the Islanders the night before.
Tyler- Pretty One- fuck, I miss you.
Teddy- Well, I have a deal for you then. What do you say to me coming to the Pittsburgh game? I can fly up tomorrow night and then back home after the game Wednesday night.
Tyler- Are you teasing me,Teddy? Don't tease me Teddy.
Teddy- So that's a yes?
Tyler- That is a hell fucking yes
Tuesday, November 20th
It took a bit of detective work, but Teddy had gotten Tyler’s hotel room number through her secret source of Bishop. Teddy checked into her hotel room and freshened up. She looked in the mirror at her matching lingerie before carefully putting on her short wrap dress. She slid her feet into impossibly high heels and headed to Tyler's room. Teddy had not communicated with Tyler since she departed. He was not expecting her until after dinner. She knocked softly on the door.
Tyler padded to the door in his jeans and tshirt. He opened the door slowly and his jaw dropped when he saw her standing there. The short wrap dress barely went to her mid-thigh and was low enough to reveal her cleavage. She stood seductively with her hip popped and hand on her hip, one leg crossed in front of the other. She smiled brightly, "Surprise!"
Tyler shook his in disbelief, "Is that really you, Pretty One? You are early. Holy fuck, you are so fucking hot." He grabbed her hand and pulled her inside the room.
She did a little strut and turned to show him the dress, "You like?"
He nodded appreciatively, "Honestly, I am speechless. Teddy, I really thought you were teasing me about coming. You are here. You really fucking came to see me."
She took a step towards him and placed her hands on his chest, "I would never tease you about that, Sweet One." She kissed his cheeks softly before moving to his lips, "Are you hungry? I brought you something to eat." He looked at her with questions in his eyes. She took a step back and untied her dress, revealing the black lace lingerie. He gasped as she slid the dress off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
"Teddy," he stammered, "Are those panties crotchless? Holy shit, they are." His hand reached between her legs and felt her warmth. "Oh, I see that my dinner is hot and ready" She laughed as walked to the bed, kicking her heels off on the way.
“Sweet One, is there a position you would prefer?” she laughed as she climbed onto the bed. Two hours later, they collapsed in a heap on the bed, having given each other numerous orgasms. “Is there anything better than hotel sex?” Teddy said dreamily.
“Any sex with you is the best, Pretty One,” he replied as he stroked her back softly, “What time is it? I am supposed to go to dinner with Chubbs.”
Teddy’s body tensed at the mention of the captain’s name, “I think it’s about six or so. What time do you meet him?”
Tyler noticed her tension and gave her a squeeze, “Six Thirty, but I am going to need a shower. Someone got me all sweaty.”
They showered together and slowly dressed. Tyler held her hand as she walked toward the elevator. “I am going to try to surprise Lex at the morning skate tomorrow. His family is in town so we may have lunch. Is that okay with you?”
Tyler turned to her, “Teddy, you don’t need my permission to see your friend. I trust you. I trust him. You don’t need my permission to do anything in life, but especially not with Big Rig.”
Teddy turned to him and kissed him gently, “Thank you for trusting me. Have a good dinner with Benn. Will you come back to my room after dinner until curfew? It’s room 1102”
Wednesday, November 21st
Teddy stood in the lobby chatting with Jason Spezza and Ben Bishop while she waited for Tyler to meet her downstairs. Bishop had suffered an injury during the previous game and he was explaining it to Teddy. The team was gathering in the hotel lobby, waiting on their bus to practice. Spezza and Bishop headed toward the sliding glass doors and said their goodbyes. Spezza paused when he noticed Benn walking through the lobby.
Teddy looked down when Benn approached her with a smirk on his face. Benn looked her up and down before remarking, “Should have known you would travel to come see your fuck buddy. Plan on hooking up with Big Rig later? I heard that you took care of Seggy last night.” Teddy’s head snapped up, “What the fuck is your problem? Why are you so concerned with who I have and have not fucked?” She looked up to see Spezza looking at her intently before walking over. “Hey Chubbs, I think it’s time to get on the bus. Teddy, see you at the game.”
She turned to face the elevator, willing herself not to cry and not give him the satisfaction of seeing her react. She put her head down and then looked up to see Tyler walking towards her with a wide grin. “Pretty One, you about to head out to see Big Rig?” He took a look at her face and asked, “What’s wrong? What happened?"
She tilted her head towards where Benn stood outside, "I will tell you later. I don't want him to see me cry."
"Pretty One, what did he say?" Tyler said as he clenched his jaw.
"After the game. Don't lose your focus," she sighed, "I promise I will tell you tonight. Please don't say anything to him, Tyler."
Tyler wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her tight, "I wish you would tell me what he said. I am not going to make you any promises though. I am not going to stand by while someone mistreats you, Teddy. I love you too much." He kissed her temple and walked with her outside. He opened the door to the cab and kissed her softly before shutting the door.
Tyler strode onto the bus and went straight to Benn, "What did you say to her? What did you say?" He stared at him. "Do me a favor- stay away from her. Stay the fuck away from her. Don't come tomorrow. You are not welcome. Don't fucking come." He walked back to the front of the bus and sat next to Spezza. He fumed and balled his fists, "What do I do? He won't stop. Do I have to fight him? What should I do? I can't let him continue. I can't."
Spezza spoke softly, "Let me talk to Klinger and Rads. We'll talk to him. Keep calm."
Teddy pulled her coat tight around her body and knocked on the designated arena door at the arena. When the security guard answered, she gave her name. She had called in a favor with Crosby to get into the arena to surprise Lex after the morning skate. She walked down and stood near the glass. Lex skated by her at full speed doing a drill. When he passed by her a second time, he did a double-take and circled back. His mouth dropped before breaking into a huge grin. He skated over to the bench and motioned for her to come down.
“What are you doing here?” he grinned.
“I came to visit my favorite defenseman," she said happily.
"I'll have someone take you to the locker room. I am almost done. Can you go to lunch?" he called as he skated away.
She screamed, "Yes!"
Someone from the Penguins staff escorted to the locker room in the underbelly of the arena. Teddy leaned against the wall and waited for Lex to emerge. Sidney Crosby walked out with Lex and came to greet Teddy.
"I see that you got into the building safely, although I am not sure I should have let an enemy into our morning skate. How's Seguin by the way?" Sidney joked.
"He's good. You seriously think that the Dallas Stars sent me in here to spy on you? That’s funny, Mr. Crosby." Teddy blinked, "Here’s my intelligence report- Sidney Crosby plays hockey good. You should try to stop him. Good luck with that’"
Sidney laughed, "Okay, I think we may be safe. Your team is going down though."
Teddy laughed softly, "I just hope both teams have fun."
Lex nudged her, "We have to leave if we plan on making it to lunch in time."
Once they made it into his truck, he turned to her and asked, "What's wrong?"
Teddy threw her head back, "Fuck, I thought I actually had you fooled. What gave it away?"
"When Sid asked you about Seggy, your nose did that scrunchy thing when you are trying to hide something." he answered, "No problems with him, right?"
Teddy shook her head no and looked out the window, "Tyler and I are fine. Lex, I shouldn't have come. I thought it would be a good distraction so I could not stress about tomorrow and meeting his family. I didn't think I would become a distraction for Tyler." Teddy turned to face Lex and tears streamed down her face. "I don't understand why he hates me. I have done nothing to him. I have tried standing up for myself, I have tried being nice, and ignoring him. He just won't shut up."
"Let me guess, Benn?" Lex stared at her, "What did he say?"
Teddy whispered, "He said that he should have known that I would travel to see my fuck buddy. Then he asked if I was going to hook up with you later. Right there in the lobby of the hotel- in front of everyone. I don't get it."
Lex punched his fist onto the ceiling of the truck. Teddy flinched and Lex immediately put his hands up, "Sorry, Bliss, sorry. It makes me angry at him. I wish I could tell you why he won't quit. Maybe he hasn't faced serious enough consequences yet. Tonight he will."
Teddy looked at her hands, "Please don't get yourself in trouble over me. I can take it. I've endured worse- much worse. It would break my heart if you got in trouble or hurt. Please Lex."
Lex put his hand over hers and squeezed, "No, I will not allow anyone to treat you like that. You will not allow anyone to treat you like that. You have tried to deal with him like a mature person. He is choosing to continue his behavior. Now you need to let the people who love you defend you. That means me, that means Tyler, and everyone else. You were alone with Chaz and didn’t have anyone to defend you. You are not alone now. You don't have to fight alone anymore and you certainly don’t have to endure it. Look at me Bliss. We are going to end this tonight.”
Lex started the car and reached over to squeeze her hand, “Bliss, did you tell Tyler?”
Teddy turned to look at him, “I told him that something was said, but not the specifics. I didn’t want to throw him off his game. You know how he got when Crosby chirped at him. I would feel awful.
Lex sighed, “Theodora Bliss Baxter- I love you and you are my best friend, but if you don’t stop taking responsibility for shit that you do not own, I am going to lose my mind. You are not responsible for anyone’s behavior but your own. Quit feeling awful for other people’s choices, Bliss. You need to tell Seggy. He needs to know what Benn said to you.”
Teddy looked him in the eyes, “Can you take me to the hotel then? I am not going to be able to have lunch.”
Lex nodded and turned his car toward the hotel. They arrived at the hotel just as the bus carrying the Stars team pulled up. Lex got out of his truck and stood beside Teddy as the players exited the bus. Tyler’s bright smile turned to a frown when he saw Teddy’s face. He approached them as Benn passed by. Lex crossed his arms and gave Benn a stare that almost dared him to utter a word. Tyler kissed Teddy’s temple when he reached her, “What’s going on?”
Lex looked Tyler in the eyes and answered firmly, “Bliss has something to tell you. I just need you to know that this Benn situation ends tonight. You handle your side and I will handle my side. Either way, it gets done. I am tired of the bullshit and I am sure you are too.” Then he turned to Teddy, “You don’t have to endure this anymore. Tyler and I will finish it.” He turned and walked back to his truck as Benn observed from inside the hotel lobby.
Tyler put his hand on the small of Teddy’s back and guided into the hotel. He whispered as they entered the lobby, “Hold your head high, Teddy. Don’t look at him. Just hold your head high until we get to the elevator. I got you.” Teddy lifted her head, turned to Tyler and smiled. She grabbed his hand and laughed as they walked by him.
Once in her room, Teddy let go of Tyler’s hand. She paced as Tyler observed her. “Okay, this is what he said. I didn’t tell you earlier because I was afraid of you losing your focus tonight during the game or even worse being the cause of tension between you and your friend. However Lex ever-so-lovingly reminded me that neither of those situations are in my control and are not my responsibility.”
“That’s right- They are not. They are mine,” Tyler interjected.
“He said ‘I should have known that you would travel to see your fuck buddy. Then he asked me if I was going to hook up with Lex later. He finished with I heard that you took care of Seggy last night.’” she said softly, “I said back ‘What the fuck is your problem? Why are you so concerned with who I have and have not fucked? Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.’”
Tyler walked over and squeezed, “Big Rig and I are going to take care of it. It will end tonight. Just remember that he brought this on himself. If I lose a friend because of it, then he was never really my friend.”
Teddy whispered, “Did you tell him about yesterday? About what we did?”
Tyler looked at the floor and then lifted his eyes to her, “I didn’t tell him specifics. Just that we had sex.”
Teddy pleaded, “Don’t do it again, Tyler. He made me feel ashamed and dirty. I don’t want to feel ashamed about having sex with the man I love, okay?”
Tyler nodded solemnly, “I am sorry, Teddy. It was stupid. I won’t betray your trust again.”
"Go down and eat your lunch, Tyler," she said softly, "I am going to my room and order room service. If you want, you can come to my room to nap afterwards. "
Tyler walked to the door and turned around, "Teddy?"
She walked to him and kissed him softly, "Tyler, we're good, but you need to eat and stay in your game day routine. I don't know what is happening tonight, but you still have a game that you need to win. You would be disappointed in yourself if you didn’t stay focused. Here is the key to my room"
Penguins versus Stars game
Teddy sat nervously in her seat centrally located between the home and visitor benches. She heard the warm up music and both teams took the ice. Tyler came out followed by Benn. They went to separate spots on ice to stretch. Tyler smiled when he noticed Teddy observing from the glass. She gave a small wave before walking over to wave to Lex. He gave only a cursory nod before turning his attention to shoot around.
Lex skated by Benn with a snarl on his face. He took another pass, knocking him with his shoulder, spinning Benn around who screamed, “What the fuck, Big Rig!” It garnered the attention of Crosby who skated over to speak with Lex. “I don’t want any unnecessary extracurricular activities tonight, Big Rig.”
Lex leaned in to Crosby and spoke softly, “He crossed a line with Teddy-on multiple occasions, including this morning. I can’t just let it slide. He made her cry, Sid.”
Crosby looked back at Benn before skating away, “Be smart about it. That’s all I am asking.”
Lex did another lap before meeting Tyler at center ice. “Just to let you know, I can’t fight him until late, but it’s coming,” Lex said as they both knelt to pretend to stretch.
“I know,” Tyler answered, “Let me know if he says anything else. I appreciate the fight. I would do it if I could.” Teddy watched from her seat, wishing she could hear what was being said. Her heart flip-flopped from an ache to relief while watching her two guys strategizing on how to best protect her. She felt a whirlwind of emotions about her need for protection- anger at Benn, shame about what was being said about her, guilt for the need to be protected, gratitude towards to two men who were so willing to do it, concern for what impact this would have for the team and more importantly Tyler’s friendship with Benn. She glanced and saw Benn watching the interaction from near the goal line.
The first period was relatively quiet on the Benn front. Lex had the secondary assist on the first goal of the game. He skated by the Stars bench and stopped in front of Benn, “That was for Teddy.” She felt her breath catch in her lungs.
“Keep talking, Big Rig, keep talking” he chirped, “I don’t give a fuck.”
When Crosby scored the third goal of the period, he skated by Stars bench, “Do you give a fuck now, Benn?”
As the period wound down, Oleksiak delivered a punishing hit to Benn, “This is for yelling at her in May.”
Benn bounced back up, “Fuck you Rig- what are you her personal defender?”
Lex skated and got into his face, “Something like that. Does yelling and slut shaming a woman make you feel strong? Do you think I am going to let that shit slide? If so, you’re wrong. Tonight you feel the consequences of attacking a woman who wouldn’t hurt a fly. In case you are wondering, there’s more coming.”
In the locker room, Crosby pulled Lex to the side, “I appreciate your self-control. Keep it up.”
When Lex blocked Benn’s shot in the second period, he just got up with a wide grin, “Karma is a bitch, ain’t it Chubbs?”
Benn skated back to the bench, shaking his head he leaned over to Rads, “Do you believe Big Rig? All that over a piece of ass?”
Rads didn’t turn his head, “Don’t talk about Teddy like that. Have some respect for her. Have some respect for Seggy.” Benn balked, expecting Rads to join in the fun.
As the buzzer sounded for the second period intermission, Benn shouted at Lex, “Is that all you got Big Rig? You disappoint me.”
Crosby turned around from where he was and skated to Benn, “Listen, right now I have Big Rig on a short leash. Keep chirping and I will let him off. We’re up 5-0 and we can afford his five minutes. Can you afford your five minutes? Because it’s happening.”
Benn laughed, “You get a piece of it too, Sid?”
Crosby pushed him with his gloved hand, “You are the fucking captain and you are openly dissing the girlfriend of your supposed best friend and alternate captain? Do you even hear yourself? You should be ashamed. Be a goddamn leader.”
Teddy texted Lex between the periods, “I know you won’t see this until after the game, but thank you. Thank you for sticking up for me and teaching me how to stick up for myself.”
Five minutes into the third period, Lex lined Benn up for another hard hit in the corner. He held him, pressing all of his body weight on him, “This is for October. A goddamn prenup? You thought she needed a goddamn prenup? God, you’re a fucking idiot. Sloppy seconds? Are you in fucking high school? If she is sloppy seconds, what does that make your boy Seguin? By the way, do you see any of your lineys jumping in here? They’re all sick of your shit too.” Finally the refs pulled Lex off of Benn who turned to face his lineys who turned and skated wordlessly to the face-off circle.
With a little under five minutes in third period, Lex caught up to Benn as he chased the puck up the ice. He placed his stick between Benn’s skates and pulled him down. As the captain tumbled to the ice, Lex shouted- “Let’s go!”
Benn popped up and immediately and dropped his gloves. As he got back up, “I’ve been waiting for this all night. What’s this for one for? Did I hurt her feelings this morning? Did I lie- you weren’t her fuck buddy? Tell me that you wouldn’t be still dipping into it if you had the chance.”
Lex grabbed his jersey and swung a right hook, connecting with Benn’s cheek, “Shut the fuck up and take your beating.” A circle of Penguins and Stars players formed around the fight. They didn’t even both pairing up with each other. Tyler sat on the bench, silently thanking Lex for this timing and cursing that he couldn’t be the one out there delivering the blows. Lex pummeled Benn with a series of right hooks before switching to an uppercut and jab.
Benn shook his head, “Okay, okay- we’re done, we’re done”
Lex waved off the ref as they moved to separate them, “No, we’re not fucking done until you agree to drop it. Keep her name and my name out of your fucking mouth. Understand me? She is my best friend. I will defend her until the day I die. Don’t make me do this again. Don’t fucking hurt her again. Do it again and I will knock you the fuck out. Say it- say that you understand.”
Benn bent over, “I understand- we’re done.” Lex gave him a final shove and looked up at the Stars bench. His eyes met Tyler's and they exchanged a head nod.
Lex and Benn skated to their respective tunnels and walked into their respective locker rooms. Lex calmly removed his helmet and started getting undressed while examining his hand. It was cut up and would surely bruise. Otherwise, he remained unscathed by the fight. He picked up his phone and read Teddy’s text. He typed quickly "Now whichever way our story ends, you have rewritten mine by being my friend. Who can say I have been changed for the better. Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."
Benn sat in his usual spot in the locker room and sulked. "What's the deal?" he thought to himself, "What's special about Teddy?" He had lost count of the women Tyler had gone through in the years they had been friends. They were literally a dime a dozen. The buzzer sounded and the team filed into the room silently. The tension in the room was palpable. Between the horrible game and the proverbial elephant in the room, the air had been sucked out of the room. Tyler dressed as quickly as possible. He was desperate to find Teddy. Benn finally spoke, "Appreciate the support out there boys. Thanks for leaving me hanging out to dry over some pussy"
Tyler’s head popped up, "What did you say?"
Benn rolled his eyes, "You heard me."
Tyler stood up and crossed the room, standing in front of Benn who stood up, "Say it again. Refer to my Lady as a pussy one more time. Give me a reason to kick your ass. Apparently one ass beating isn't enough for you."
Benn shoved Tyler back, "Are you fucking kidding me? Your lady? Since have you started giving a shit what I say about Seggy’s flavor of the month? I guess I should just wait. She'll upgrade to the big Captain Dick soon."
Tyler lunged forward and knocked Benn back onto the bench and started throwing punches. No one in the room moved to separate them. Tyler landed five to six right hooks before Benn shoved him off. Tyler put his hands on his knees and stared at him. "Don't you understand? She's not a piece of ass. She is the best thing to ever happen to me. I love her. I more than love her. She is the one- my forever." Tyler stood you and crossed over to Benn, "Your fascination with her is pathological. Get some help. If you can and will not give the respect she fucking deserves, but we're done. We are not friends until this ends and ends for good. Except for on the ice, don't speak to me. Do not speak to her. If you come near her again, I beat you again and will not stop until you are bleeding. This ends and it ends tonight. Am I clear?"
Benn sat back down and stared at the floor. Spezza spoke softly, "Seggy, give us the room." Tyler turned to Spezza who nodded to Rads and Klinger. "We need the room, Seggy. You can tell them it's a players only meeting if they ask, but you need to leave." Benn's head swiveled from Rads and Klinger and then around the room.
Tyler grabbed his coat and walked out of the room, massaging his hand. Teddy paced back and forth. She gasped when she looked up and crossed to Tyler. He held his arms open and she ran into them. "Sweet One, I heard yelling. Are you okay?" He wrapped her tight in his arms and rocked her back and forth. "Tyler, I am so sorry. I am so sorry."
Tyler shushed her, "Do not apologize. You did everything in your power to avoid it. You didn't ask either of us to do it. We HAD to do it. It had to stop. It's almost over. It will be over soon."
Teddy looked up at him, puzzled, "What's going on? What's left?"
Tyler shrugged, "Players only meeting- organized by the other A's. They asked me to leave. Spezza is leading it."
Inside the room, Spezza spoke in this usual measured tone, "Chubbs, you know what's happening here, right? I am delivering a message from the TEAM. We are unified on this message. The attacks on Teddy must stop and they must stop now. First, they are unwarranted and bizarre. So she fucked Big Rig? Does it matter? It’s none of your fucking business. It’s nobody’s business but Teddy’s. You can't hold her to a different standard than yourself. Do we really need to get into a discussion of your sex life? It doesn't matter how many men she has fucked or what you think about her. It matters that she is Seggy's girlfriend and you WILL RESPECT that. It's non negotiable. You do not disrespect the wife or girlfriend of anyone on this team. The team will not tolerate it. If we let you get away with it with her, you would try it with any of the others. If you said that shit about Jennifer, I would give you the same beating."
"You say that you see Teddy as just another woman who means nothing to Segs. You are not blind though. Have you ever seen Seggy protect any of the others? Do you think he does this for Bree? Absolutely not. Have you seen him block and delete people on Instagram in order to defend the others? Do you see him out partying like before? You don’t see how he is on the road now? There are absolutely no extracurricular activities. No, the issue isn’t that she is some flavor of the month that means nothing- the issue is that she means EVERYTHING to him and she means everything to him in such a short amount of time. She means that much, but she isn't a distraction until you make her a distraction. Everyone loves her and the fact that you don't says more about you than her. Hell, she is your girlfriend's best friend. Focus on your damn relationship and shut the fuck up about Teddy."
"So here is the message, if it continues, then you cannot continue to wear the C. We are telling you that you will not be our leader and we will not follow you," he paused and looked around the room. "Is there anyone who disagrees? Anyone want to add anything?
Esa Lindell stood up and spoke, "Leave her alone," and walked out of the room. One by one each player stood up and repeated the sentiment and walked out of the room. After all but the A's remained, Spezza spoke again, "Do your media, then get on the bus. This is over."
As Esa left the room, he walked to Teddy and hugged her tight, "I support you. See you tomorrow." Each player came to her, gave her a hug or handshake with a message of support. Teddy struggled to take it all in. Tyler whispered in her ear, "You are more loved than you know. I will always defend you-always"
Spezza stopped in front of her, "Teddy, I am sorry that you had to put up with his abuse. It isn't acceptable and it ends tonight. Keep your head up. We got you."
Teddy hugged him tight, “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t want to start trouble.”
Spezza shook his head, walked towards the bus and called back over his shoulder, “Yes, we absolutely had to do that. You didn’t start anything. Seggy, I think you should get on the bus before he comes out. I don’t want another confrontation.”
Tyler wrapped Teddy in his arms and asked, "Who do I want?"
Teddy smiled, "Me"
Tyler smiled "Why do I want you?
Teddy answered, "Because you love me- me and only me"
Tyler asked the final question-"Who is my lady?"
Teddy grinned- "Me. Who is my man?
Tyler kissed her- "Me"
Teddy returned his kiss- "You and only you. I love you."
They didn't notice as Benn walked quietly past them. Tyler sighed, "I have to get on the bus. Will you come to my house tonight?"
Teddy hesitated, "Your mom and sisters are there already."
Tyler pulled her closer, "Don't care. I want to sleep with my lady. I know that you are going to dinner with Big Rig. Call me when you get home. I will let you in. Just come to me."
Teddy made her way to the Penguins locker room. Players were still streaming out. She looked down at her phone and saw Lex's text. She smiled and looked up to see Lex exiting the room, talking to Crosby. He stopped and let her run to him, She threw herself into his strong arms and he spun her around as she laughed. He placed her down and she moved to hug Crosby. "So am I no longer your least favorite captain, huh?"
Teddy poked his chest, "You weren’t even my least favorite in March, but we're good."
Lex and Teddy walked quietly to his truck. After she climbed in and buckled her seat belt, she turned to Lex who was watching her intently. "What?" she asked as he started to drive.
"You look good, by the way. I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but you look really beautiful. Love agrees with you." he said softly.
Teddy blushed, "Thanks- I am happy- really happy. He makes me so happy. Sorry, I am all in my feelings right now. Tonight I feel loved. I mean, feel it in my bones loved. It is the best feeling ever. I don’t know if I have ever felt so loved."
He reached over and squeezed her hand, "You know I love you too. Still best friends?"
She squeezed his hand back, "Always and Forever."
Over a quick dinner, Teddy told him and Tyler's fight with Benn. Then she told him about the players only meeting and the show of support from the team. Lex smiled and thought to himself, "Good on you Seggy, Good on you." They moved onto the discussion of Thanksgiving activities. He asked, "So Mama Bax is getting her full house again. The Finns are coming? Seggy’s family too? She must be beside herself with the preparations. By the way, she sent me my special pie and cookies."
Teddy stopped mid-bite, "She made you your pie and overnighted it to you? Of course she did. She loves you more than me- I think that she would disown me if you ever dropped me as a friend. By the way, that's a joke. I know that isn’t happening. You're stuck with me for life, Lex." She flashed a smile and he laughed. She was right- they were friends for life.
Teddy tried to nap on the jet but couldn't get her mind to turn off. She yawned as she walked down the steps, carrying her bag. It was nearly two AM. She stopped and dug in her pocket for her phone. She dialed Tyler’s phone and looked up when she heard his ring tone. He stood by his car with his hands in his pockets. She ran to him and he held open his arms to catch her, "What are you doing here?"
"I came to get my lady," he replied.
"Take me home, Tyler," she said softly, “I am so tired.”
As they drove the short distance to his house, she squeezed his hand. He smiled at her, "What's going on in that beautiful mind?"
"I have decided that I am not going to stress about whatever is going to happen with your family and my family today. Even if it all goes horribly, I am going to love you and you are going to love me. That is all that matters in the end. Today is going to be a good day. I get to spend it with you so that will make it the best Thanksgiving ever."
Next chapter- https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/670569735817150464/thursday-november-22nd-2018-teddy-nuzzled-her
#magical mystery ride#tyler seguin fic#tyler seguin fanfic#tyler seguin imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fiction#nhl fic
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ARTHUR WEST BALLAD SR CARD TRANSLATION
[The Prince's Protection is Universal]
CARD STORY [The Role I'll Take]
CHAPTER 1
Rustica: Prince Arthur. What are you doing in such a place?
Arthur: Oh, is it Rustica? I'm just thinking for a little bit.
Rustica: Ah, perhaps you were thinking about what kind of tea you should have tonight?
Rustica: If so, allow me to accompany your train of thoughts. Shall we have herbal tea that invites good night sleep, or some fruit tea that excites your heart…
Arthur: Ahaha, each one has its own charm. But, i'm not thinking about that.
Rustica: If not, then what is it?
Arthur: Well…
Arthur: ...Rustica, am i acting like a real trainee?
Arthur: It's the position i took in order to infiltrate this island, but i'm worried about how natural i act. I didn't have this kind of opportunity until now.
Rustica: I see, so it's that kind of problem. You're an earnest and straightforward person, befitting of a central wizard.
Rustica: Perhaps, because of your personality, you're not comfortable pretending to be someone you're not.
Arthur: Yes, maybe that's the reason. If i'm not wrong, west wizards excels in transformation magic, right?
Rustica: Correct. Beautiful things, strange things, from a singing bird to a fish that swims calmly. Transforming into other beings excites us.
Arthur: If it's alright, would you give me some tips?
Arthur: If i can find joy in transforming into another being, maybe i would behave more naturally.
Rustica: I understand. If you would have me, i'll be happy to lend you my strength.
.
CHAPTER 2
Rustica: In short, you want to have fun while playing a role, right?
Arthur: Yes, that's right…. i guess?
Rustica: Well then, how about we try playing the role of a teacher and student first?
Rustica: I shall play the role of the teacher and Prince Arthur will act as the student. I'm sure it'll be fun.
Arthur: Rustica is the teacher and i'm the student…
Arthur: That's a wonderful idea… But Master Oz, who is the teacher of central wizards, are also present on this island.
Arthur: Calling Rustica as my teacher when there's Master Oz is a bit…
Rustica: How lovely. You adore him so much.
Rustica: If so, how about we change our role? Let's try to pretend to be a maid or butler.
Arthur: Maid or butler…
Rustica: Yes. I shall take the role of a maid. I have played this role before*, so i'm pretty confident.
Rustica: And i'm sure you'll look splendid if you act as a butler, Prince Arthur.
Arthur: I see. It does seem interesting!
Arthur: But... who should we serve when we're playing this role?
Rustica: Oh, is that Lord Oz over there? How about we try to serve him on this rare occasion?
Arthur: What a wonderful idea! Let's serve him right away!
Rustica: Yes. I'm sure Lord Oz would be very pleased.
Arthur: Master Oz! Please let us serve you!
.
.
CARD EPISODE [Roleplay Master]
Akira: What are you reading, Arthur?
Arthur: I'm reading a book called "Knowledge of Acting"
Arthur: Rustica gave me some special acting lessons the other day, so i'm reviewing it right now.
Akira: Special lessons… What did you do?
Arthur: We act as Master Oz's maid and butler! It was such a valuable experience.
Akira: Oz's maid and butler?! That is indeed an interesting experience. Are you good at acting, Arthur?
Arthur: It's embarrassing, but i'm not very good at it.
Arthur: I do roleplay a lot with Lord Snow and Lord White when i live with Master Oz but…
Arthur: They're a lot better than i am.
Akira: Both of them seem pretty great at it… On the contrary, i feel that Oz is not really good at acting.
Arthur: You understand him very well. Master Oz is not very good at acting as well.
Arthur: But when Lord Snow and Lord White aren't present, Master Oz would play pretend with me until i'm satisfied.
Arthur: Oh, if you're okay with it, would you do some roleplay with me, Master Sage? I'd like to put the result of my special lesson to practice.
Akira: Gladly! I'm a bit curious too.
Arthur: Well then, i shall act as your butler.
.
*) He did it during west etude
.
.
HOMESCREEN VOICE
"I'm also a wizard. I always hope to be the bridge of peace for wizards and humans"
#mahoutsukai no yakusoku#mahoyaku#mahoyaku translation#arthur#arthur granvelle#rustica#rustica ferucci#akira
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Part 4 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Glamour
You can call it however you want: kid's show logic, superhero disguise logic, magical girl show logic, cartoon laws, suspension of disbelief, etc. But the fact that nobody recognises Marinette, Adrien and others when they are suited up IS NOT BAD WRITING. It's one of the main laws of this genre. That's not because characters are stupid, okay? So, being frustrated that everyone in the show acts stupid about this "wearing a mask that covers only eyes" trope is strange. This criticism is not valid or fair.
But, this trope has to make sense in-universe as a worldbuilding and narrative element.
Miraculous doesn't give us much direct information on how glamour works. And in this case, I think we need both SHOW and TELL. Because if you don't establish the glamour rules clearly, you are going to run into problems and create unfortunate implications with your storytelling choices.
Appearance
Miraculous obviously gives our heroes magical glamour. In "Lady WiFi" we find out that masks can't be taken off. It's magic. No other explanation is needed.
Miraculous can slightly change the appearance of users (eyes, face shape, height and hairstyles). People can identify and notice the hairstyles of heroes (numerous Ladybug wigs, statue in Copycat). Jagged Stone points out the change of hair when he mistakes Chloe for Ladybug ("Antibug"). But it's just a costume. There is no magic that prevents Jagged from understanding that Chloe isn't Ladybug. So, how does it work? But it's forgivable because it's cartoon logic. Suspension of disbelief works here, I suppose. I won't judge this too harshly.
Glamour also obviously prevents people from making a connection that Marinette and Ladybug have identical hairstyles. So people know that Ladybug wears her hair in pigtails, but magic does not allow them to notice similarities.
Another important question. Does glamour work on Kwamis? Can they see who is behind the mask?
New York Special makes it clear that magic does not affect robots and they can see through glamour. Does that mean that Markov, AI built by Max, knows the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir? And it's never addressed.
Plagg in "Frightningale" says that holders can subconsciously choose their superhero appearance. This is actually pretty interesting and I like this idea a lot. Except the show is not consistent with this. The transformation of Master Fu looks identical to Nathalie's. And we have seen how different from each other Ladybug and Black Cat holders looked in the past. At the same time, Master Fu and Nino have different takes on Turtle superhero suit.
Age Glamour
Does age glamour exist? Do people see Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes as adults even when they look like teenagers to the audience (their height and build are smaller even when they are transformed)? Is that why no one ever questions the fact that children nearly die on a daily basis?
I mentioned unfortunate implications earlier. Well, this is where they come into play. Let's talk about "Copycat". A lot of people discussed it before me, so I won't bore you with details.
When I watched "Copycat" for the first time Theo's crush on Ladybug didn't bother me, because I thought that he sees Ladybug as his peer, a girl who is about 20-23 years old. Theo is an artist, his character design is that of an adult. He has his own studio, its appearance indicates that he did serious commissions in the past. The guy has no idea that Ladybug is like 13.
But then we get "Heroes' Day" and "Ladybug". And Hawkmoth calls them "kids", which means that there is no age glamour. Others see Ladybug and Chat Noir as teenagers. Perhaps, other Miraculous users aren't affected by age glamour. Therefore regular people see all heroes as adults but other heroes are able to guess their age more or less correctly. But you must spell this thing out because the audience can interpret "Copycat" differently. If there is no age glamour, then Theo is crushing on a teenage girl and he is fully aware of this fact. And this doesn't look good for your show.
The "No Age Glamour" theory is further confirmed in "Sapotis" where Alya just straight up analyses voice recordings and says that Ladybug is a girl their age. If glamour exists then it should also cover technology. Kwami can't be photographed. Face and voice recognition software shouldn't be able to analyse transformed superheroes and detect their identities in any way.
Besides, after "Sapotis" Alya should definitely be sure that Ladybug is not 5000 years old (also not an adult), especially after she wore Miraculous herself and was one door away from detransformed Ladybug.
SEASON 4 UPDATE! There's no age glamour after all.
In "Furious Fu" Su Han calls Chat Noir a child without knowing his identity. It means that everyone knows their superheroes are teenagers. "Copycat" can't be saved from that, uh, subtext anymore. No one questions the danger of their job or the balance of their lives outside of the mask. No one doubts their competence after "Origins" ever again. No one becomes annoyed after being bossed around by two teenagers in spandex. You had many opportunities to drop these details into the narrative. Someone could have been akumatized over this (I will not be ordered around by some magical kids!).
I don't know why writers decided not to use at least this idea and slightly adjust "Copycat" if they got rid of the age glamour completely. It can be explained as kid's show logic, but unfortunately, I'm reluctant to do it. If many characters sympathise with akuma victims on-screen, why not with the teenage superheroes who must fight them?
New York Special had this weird focus on collateral damage out of nowhere (the damage done by sentimonster Robostus) and yet it has 0 effect on the main story. No one in Paris is pissed that their 2 teenage protectors weren't there.
Ironically, "Furious Fu" and that one remark made by Su Han also created unfortunate implications for other moments in the show. Just hear me out. Apparently, Jagged Stone wrote a "thank you" song for Ladybug knowing that she is 13-15 year old child back in "Pixelator". Fandom is more than happy to roast Lila for lying about saving Jagged Stone's cat and him writing her a "thank you" song. Fandom claims that Lila's tale could harm Jagged's reputation, when he wrote a song for teenage Ladybug several weeks prior. Meanwhile, in-universe this lie is 100% believable.
If we put on "realism glasses", then both this whole song situation and Theo's crush in "Copycat" have uncomfortable implications. However, the show's canon can't be viewed and criticised through "realism glasses". I admit that bits and pieces of my criticisms are affected by these "glasses", but, ultimately, I'm trying to be fair and concentrate only on things that can't be justified by "cartoon logic and worldbuilding".
Could the existence of age glamour solve this problem of unfortunate implications and other concerns mentioned above? YES. Is it better for the narrative? YES. Is essential for the story? NOT QUITE. Could the absence of age glamour be called an irredeemable storytelling flaw? NO.
Disclaimer: On a side note, only older audience can notice these implications. Children, the target audience, most likely won't understand this subtext simply because they don't have enough experience. So, perhaps, this criticism is unfair, because these moments only look weird to me as an adult. It's like an adult joke in a cartoon that you don't get until you reach a certain age.
There's nothing technically wrong with adult writing a "thank you" song for a teenager. It's just an expression of gratitude. However, unfortunately, we live in a world, where adults normally wouldn't write songs for teens to express gratitude only. In real life similar actions would imply pedophilia and would be actively scorned by the public. No one would risk their reputation like that even if their intentions were genuinely pure and sincere. But this show can't be viewed through "realism glasses", because it's a cartoon and in certain cases we as the audience must use suspension of disbelief and pretend that certain things are possible for plot to happen.
Su Han also wants to give Ladybug and Black Cat to adults. Why didn't Master Fu do this then? Writers don't give us any explanation. Throughout the show we never question this up until the moment it's revealed that adults don't have time-limited powers. Then comes "Furious Fu". Story suddenly becomes self-aware here. Because apparently nothing prevented Fu from giving the most powerful Miraculous to adults who won't have time limit and will be more effective against Hawkmoth (see part 3 for more details).
I have a very good example of Age Glamour done right. It works in the story. There is no confusion or unfortunate implications. There is like one plothole connected to the glamour (it's been years and I still can't forgive them for Cornelia and Caleb) but otherwise, it's a pretty solid example of both show and tell. Clearly, writers wanted to avoid uncomfortable implications which are present in "Copycat". I am talking about W.I.T.C.H. comic books and animated series.
If you are not familiar with it, I'll give you a brief explanation. The story follows 5 girls, the Guardians of Kandrakar who are chosen to protect their world and parallel ones from evil. They receive magical powers from the amulet known as the Heart of Kandrakar. Their powers are based on elements: fire, water, earth, air and energy. Our main characters are about 13-15 years old. In the animated series they are younger and they attend middle school, making them 12-14 years old. But the transformation makes them look 18-20. They look like young women to each other and to other people. At the same time, people can recognise them, their looks and voice don't change. Most people don't know that they are really teenagers when they are not transformed and these people don't know that magic can make them look older. That's why everyone treats Guardians like adults when they are transformed. Comics establish this fact in the very beginning. In first issues characters state that they look older, we are also shown this multiple times.
In fact, one of the first side plots revolves around the fact that Irma uses her powers to sneak into the disco club to meet up with her crush. Irma is 13 at the beginning of the series, she is a high school freshman. Her crush, Andrew Hornby is a senior guy 17-18 years old. Irma has liked him for a long time and wants to impress him, so she decides to be clever about this. She transforms into her Guardian form of the 18-year-old girl, hides her wings, sneaks out to the club after her parents are asleep without any problem, and meets Andrew, who obviously doesn't recognise Irma in this girl who looks about his age. Smitten Andrew offers her a ride and 13-year-old Irma doesn't understand the implication of that offer, so she accepts. And, obviously, he decides that she is interested in more than just a ride home, since she agreed, and the comic implies that he fully intended for them to have sex in the backseat of his car. But Irma understands the implication only when Andrew tries to kiss her. She panics and turns him into a frog. And she actually pulls this "I need to look mature" trick more than once over the course of the series.
It's not the only situation where this age difference is handled well and makes sense. People who know the main characters in everyday life remark on their older appearance during transformation. Sometimes people flirt with Guardians when they are transformed. In one of the side-novels centred around Cornelia, she is worried that the prince of the realm they helped to save from famine would try to marry her. That never happens, but Cornelia actually brainstorms with her friends about how to tell the prince that she is really 15.
There are many other plot points where this happens, but I think that you got the idea. I really like how "Age Glamour" was handled in W.I.T.C.H.
How do we fix this? Create the situations where people offhandedly mention "Age Glamour" in the presence of Marinette or Adrien, use Kwami for this.
"Don't worry, dear. Chat Noir and Ladybug are adults, who know what they are doing. I am sure that they will handle this. "
Theo could say: "Oh, I wonder which university Ladybug goes to?"
"So, does that mean that other people see us as grown-ups, Tikki?"
A few words and boom, problem solved. Then allow the "show don't tell" rule do the rest.
#miraculous ladybug#ml#miraculous analysis#miraculous meta#ml meta#ml analysis#miraculous transformations#miraculous critical#miraculous ladybug critical#miraculous glamour#superhero glamour#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir
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@magic-is-something-we-create @did-i-do-this-write @akindofmagictoo @gr3y-heron AMAZING THANK YOU YOU'RE ALL MY FAVORITE PEOPLE EVER :DDDD
So, I went to a railroad museum this weekend (it was fantastic and I learned so much) and it gave me ideas. there is a cut here because this got LONG
So the world herald is in has three main cities that are relevant to the story: Valimore (the main setting), Lutetia (where Blake is from), and the unnamed one that I keep calling fantasy madrid in my head. They have roughly the same train & airship stuff.
They're both modes of transportation for cargo and people, and both are relatively quick. Trains are cheaper, but if you were trying to get over the ocean, you would take an airship, because there aren't any train tracks over the ocean. To get through the mountains, though, you can take either: airships take about a day to get over the biggest mountain range, and trains take two-three to get through the same one.
So, they do basically the same thing, why hasn't one died out, like cars vs horse drawn carriages, you ask? (well, maybe you don't, but let's pretend someone is asking).
BECAUSE sky ships are a very new thing, relatively speaking. they've been around for about 30-40 years. Blake, who's in her late 50s and has been a skyship captain for 20+ years and on the crew of one almost her entire adult life, signed on to one of the first major commercial skyships when she was in her very early 20s. They became very popular very fast, and there's airship docks in nearly every city now. (I'm not completely sure what they look like yet but airship docks look kinda ridiculous, I think. really tall-- OH MY GOD THE CLOCKTOWER SHOULD BE AN AIRSHIP DOCK THATS SUCH A FUN IDEA I LOVE THAT--).
So, the original airship captains were train conductors (like how in real life the first train conductors were steamship captains), and Blake's parents were both train conductors or otherwise employed on trains. this is how she got into it. Neither of her parents worked on skyships but some of their friends did.
Because of this, the command structure and bureaucracy surrounding airships is a lot like that surrounding trains!!!!
AND ALSO BECAUSE they're both for transportation, but different types of transportation!!! trains are used for shorter or medium length voyages, or if you don't need to get somewhere super fast, or if you can't/aren't willing to spend a lot of money on a ticket. skyships are used by people in emergencies, or for longer trips with several stops on the way, or if you're really rich. they aren't used by most of the population, cause they're not practical if you aren't super rich. for this reason, most airships (blake's included) are for cargo transport, mostly perishable goods that need to be moved quickly, or for a few passengers at a time.
there is more to this, but I'm not really sure of what it is concretely and also i need to go and sleep.
also. the car trip I typed most of this on we picked up a cat halfway through, and this is her and I love her and she's now my sister's cat and her name is either orla or french toast and have i mentioned i love her
hey does anyone wanna hear about how trains and airships coexist & interact in the herald at dawn world
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Here's what the anti-censorship, pro-filtering crowd are actually worried about:
Minorities are going to write stories with racist villains, and those villains might use slurs. Should that be banned from AO3?
Child sexual assault survivors might want to tell their own stories to process their trauma. They aren't going to hurt real children while doing it and might not pull any punches to avoid diluting the horror of what happened to them. Should those stories be banned?
Transgender writers are going to write stories where their protagonists suffer from transphobic hate crimes and microaggressions. Should those stories be banned?
Figure out a solution that won't get innocent people caught in the crossfire because the far right wants to shut those perspectives down, and THEN we'll listen.
But sure, keep parroting Far Right Propaganda about how sinful and evil AO3 is! I'm sure that won't backfire when homophobes push to have queer coming of age stories labelled as child porn!
OOOO, lots of whataboutisms. You seem to be under the impression that it’s one or the other. That it’s necessary to keep things as they are in order to prevent The Dark Ages. That the Holy A03 is tho only bastion against the Evil Puritans. That people won’t be able to tell. Why is that, exactly? Why do you assume that it has to be one or the other?
But sure, let’s play this game: If we ban white people for saying the N-Slur on Twitter, then what about black people who say it? If we ban pedophiles from Twitter, will that mean banning people who talk about their experiences? And as for the commonly repeated “it’s actually survivors” thing, okay sure. Why do they need to SHARE it? Why is that part necessary? I have never gotten an answer there. Do you have an answer? Depiction is NOT automatically endorsement but in the cases where it clearly IS, or will in fact cause harm because, guess what, tagging doesn’t magically solve all problems, putting it out there for everyone to see won’t actually help and has more risk of harm than anything else, then it’s absurd to suggest that we NEED to keep ALL of it. ESPECIALLY, might I add, when it’s porn or REAL CHILDREN that they refuse to take down.
Frankly, the idea that being against CHILD PORN is “far right homophobia” is insulting. It is fucking deranged that we’re at the point where people are using right wing arguments about censorship to whine about even the slightest amount of moderation and then acting like the people who call out this hypocritical nonsense are the “real” conservatives. Because that’s all this is: The same exact arguments I hear against moderation on Twitter, the same “it’s just fiction” excuse I hear from lolicons, the same hypocrites that calls themselves “anti-harassment” and then harass the hell out of actual children. WE’RE the ones using “far right” arguments? YOU’RE the one fearmongering about what will happen if we try to introduce even the slightest amount of moderation. If we even TRY to sift through what’s endorsement and what isn’t, because clearly that’s impossible. To even TRY to improve A03 somewhat, because if we do that then it’s the second age of homophobia
Look, I’m not going to deny that things were hard and this website was founded for a reason. Mostly, it’s incredibly helpful. But it’s gotten to the point where people react violently to the suggestion that their precious anarchist website might have some flaws, that maybe a LITTLE moderation would be helpful, and to the point where they’re defending ANY depiction of child porn or anything else because it’s either that or the homophobes win. How do you COME to that conclusion? How do you tell yourself, with a straight face, that leaving ALL of that up there is somehow “protecting” people? There comes a point where the reaction to something is just as bad as the thing it was reacting against, and this cult-like devotion to a website and all the hoops you’ll jump through to pretend like there’s no other way is definitely one of those cases.
Anyways, when I call this “cult-like”, I’m not being facetious. I know how this works: Feed people stuff that sounds reasonable while hiding the true intent, slowly normalize to that idea, and then we get what you’ve just done: Defending leaving ANY depiction of these things up because there’s definitely no other way, using the exact same “it’s just fiction” excuse that lolicons and their ilk use, acting like it HAS to be a “one or the other” based on what you IMAGINE Conservative Christianity to be like (which, might I add, is the exact same thing exclusionists do to justify why asexuals aren’t “oppressed enough”). WE don’t provide the alternative? YOU’RE not willing to hear any alternatives out. Because no matter how much they may protest to the contrary, it really does come down to “any moderation = bad” just like conservatives love with absolutely no sense of irony.
My advice: Take a step back and analyze what you’ve said, just…look at what that collection of words put together means. You ARE better than this, I know that. And the fact that you ARE against pointless censorship is a point in your favor. But that’s exactly how they get their hooks into people, convincing them that censorship and moderation are the same thing. And the damndest thing is, I’m not even sure it’s intentional on THEIR part, either. I think they’ve genuinely deluded themselves into thinking this is necessary, because they can’t see the irony. You want a real life example of “going too far in the other direction”, well here it is. It’s a real damn shame that it’s devolved into this “all or nothing” thing, but that’s just how it is. And I’m just responding appropriately.
#You want to play the “you’re using right wing arguments” game?#Sure okay: take this garbage back to 4chan where it belongs Ben#I can play this game too#It’s not very fun but I can#Anyways none of this has changed my mind in the slightest#Some people really DO use right wing arguments as part of their cult like devotion to a fucking website and can’t see the irony#Call me a hypocrite if you want#but at least I fucking know I am
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So, at the risk of having an unpopular hot take about an episode of television that aired more than 23 years ago ... I'm not sure I like Doppelgangland.
(Actually, I'm pretty sure that I don't.)
There are plenty of things I like about it, sure. I get why it's a popular episode. Vamp!Willow is a fun character, Alyson Hannigan seems to have a lot of fun playing her, and everyone's reactions to meeting her for the first time are well done. The scene where the gang think 'their' Willow has died is very good, veering from genuine pathos to comedy really nicely, and there are some other very funny moments later on too.
It's nice to see Anya brought back as a recurring character (even if this version of the character is still a little hard to reconcile with the Anya of later seasons). I do like the fact the episode establishes the idea that a vampire's personality is a definite reflection of the person they were when they were alive (or confirms this idea, really -- this is something that's been implicit for a while before this). And obviously there's some (in hindsight) important foreshadowing going on for Willow here as well.
So yes, that's all good. But on balance the episode as a whole doesn't quite work for me.
This is largely just a gut reaction, I think, but there are a couple of specific things I can point to. One of these I'd freely admit is ridiculous, the other is -- I think -- a little more serious.
The silly one first: I don't think this episode is particularly consistent with The Wish in terms of the mechanics of how the 'Wishverse' itself works.
As depicted in that episode, Cordelia unwittingly changes reality when she wishes that Buffy had never come to Sunnydale. There's no suggestion that she's been transported to another reality which already existed: indeed, Anyanka explicitly tells Giles that 'this is the real world now [...] this is the world we made'. Then Giles destroys Anyanka's amulet, undoing Cordelia's wish and returning everything to how it was before (except that Anya is now human and powerless).
OK. That's fairly consistent, I think. But now, in this episode, the 'Wishverse' is just some alternate reality that it's possible for characters to move between via magic. So, uh ... that makes the end of The Wish kind of hollow, right?
I mean, what did that other Giles actually accomplish, if the 'Wishverse' actually still exists as some alterate dimension? He certainly didn't send our Cordelia 'back' from it. She died in that world, and after Anya's amulet is destroyed Cordelia doesn't remember the events of the episode at all. And he didn't cause that timeline to never happen, either, the way he was trying. If it did, how is it possible for Willow to magically access it? So it seems as though, on the surface, all that that Giles did was change which reality was the 'real' one for the purpose of the television-watching audience. Which is pretty unsatisfying as far as metaphysical nonsense goes.
Now, as I said, I realize this is pretty silly. because Buffy is not (and isn't trying to be) hard SF, or even something like Fringe or The X-Files. The monsters and the supernatural threats in this show are there to be metaphors and to move the story forward, and internal consistency is not particularly important, or even desirable (see also: pretty much everything the show has to say about souls, I guess). But it bugs me, anyway.
The more serious problem I have is with the ending, in which Buffy is persuaded to let a vampire go free to (as far as she knows) kill and torture any number of innocent people, simply because said vampire looks like a friend of hers. This ... doesn't feel remotely in character, to put in mildly. (Explicitly, she's giving her "a chance" ... to do what, exactly? She's not even pretending to be remorseful!)
Yes, sure, the episode actually shows us that vamp!Willow doesn't survive for more than a second or two back her own reality. So there aren't any 'real' consequences to this decision. But ... so what? None of the characters making the decision to return her to where she was from knew that at the time, or suspected it was going to happen, or ever find out later. It's simply not a factor in their decision making process. And in any case, it's pretty intellectually lazy for the show to suddenly adopt consequentalist ethics just when it's convenient, after rejecting this worldview so strongly in earlier episodes (and continuing to reject it in future episodes).
And ... okay, yes, this episode is part of a trend of the show increasingly treating vampires as people in their own right rather than just monsters to be slain. I get that, even though it's honestly not a trend I'm hugely thrilled by.
But Buffy is still the Slayer. She's still the person who stayed up waiting by Ford's grave after he died to stake him. She didn't wait up to say hi and tell him "oh, you can go and murder people because you used to be a friend of mine; please do it out of town though :)". And in later seasons, when Buffy doesn't stake Spike or Harmony, you can at least try to justify that on the grounds that Spike has a magical human-detecting chip in his head, or that Harmony is too incompetent to be dangerous. (I mean, you can try, anyway.)
(I guess, relatedly, it also bothers me that Anya gets off consequence-free from trying to assist said vampire in killing a whole bunch of people, simply because ... well, I don't think we even get offered a reason for that.)
The whole thing just makes Buffy's character seem ... inconsistent, I guess (or perhaps something worse: flawed in a way I don't find interesting). I mean, Buffy blames herself for all sorts of things that clearly aren't her fault. That's a pretty key part of her character, across the whole show. (In this episode alone she blames herself for Willow's apparent death because she called her 'reliable'!) Yet she doesn't seem to have any real problem letting a soulless vampire go back to a dimension where she has admitted to killing and torturing people? Really?
Are the deaths of all the people that this vampire might kill somehow not the fault of the people who let her go? Are we meant to think that Buffy would have let the 'real' Willow go if she really had been killed and turned into a vampire? Or that she'd let any other vampire she's ever staked go, if she could do so by teleporting them to another dimension (one where they'd still be killing people)?
Circling back to my earlier point, it really does seem like the audience is meant to be reassured that this is all okay because vamp!Willow doesn't actually get to hurt anybody else later. But again, none of the characters in the show ever know about this, and it seems so glaringly at odds with the morality the show advocates elsewhere.
Actually, thinking about it now, I think that this episode bothers me for reasons not entirely unrelated to my dislike of Season 6's Normal Again. In both, there's a scene at the very end of the episode, that only the audience is ever privy to, which is supposed to influence what we think of the rest of the episode . In the case of Normal Again, that scene exists to suggest that Buffy might 'really' be delusional. In the case of this episode that scene exists to try to demonstrate that Buffy didn't 'really' let a vampire free to harm innocent people. And in both cases, I think this doesn't work at all.
(Incidentally, I'm not saying that the episode would be better if Buffy just staked vamp!Willow and everyone was fine with that. I do at least vaguely understand how narrative parallels work. I understand that there is a reason why the episode immediately after Consequences introduces an evil shadow version of one of the main characters; one who is "kinda gay" and obviously attracted to the character she's a shadow of, no less. I understand why the show then makes the point that the character in question might sympathize with and be conflicted about killing her shadow self, even to the point that she can't bring herself to do it yet. I do get that.
I just think there were better ways to execute that idea than the episode actually manages.)
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