#but either way would have made paul into a powerful figure in that moment (as he'd been shown to be up until that point) but instead

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

Thinking about Paul's final duel again. Thinking again about how, after spending half the movie watching him be a destructive godlike being we're thrown back into seeing him be just...a guy. I *love* that unlike in the book they let him actually get Fucked Up. That instead of him being depicted as heroic or villainous, it's not really played as him being powerful at all. Not a scary, evil destructive person but not a saviour either. Just a hurt, exhausted, lonely guy who's barely an adult. The fact that *that's* the angle a scene like that was filmed from just. hmmmmmmmmm. It Bites My Brain Sometimes.

[aphroditesmoon]

children of the empire

king!jacaerys valeryon x reader

summary: the tale of the king and the slave.

warnings: slave!reader, infidelity, hurt/comfort, angst, childbirth, grief, death, inspired by paul and chani from dune book series.

A/N: just jace and reader being wholly devoted to eachother

wc: 1.4k

----

HE KNEW THE two of you were destined to be together from the moment he laid his eyes on you. After the coronation held for him as King, multiple houses that had changed the course of their loyalty at the last minute had begun to seek the now young King Jacaerys’ favor. And so began the parade of gifts from ornaments, jewels and women were presented. Exotic slaves from colonized lands were brought forth to the king. He had sat on the throne as if it was made just for him. The throne his mother had not been given the privilege to sit on for even a whole year. 

By his side, was his once betrothed and now Queen Baela. Their union was celebrated the way their parents would have wanted, and the two tried their hardest to uphold all the traditions and rulings to make worth of the sacrifices and bloodshed in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen.  

In everyone’s eyes, the pair was unstoppable, a united front with grudging respect for the other. A pair not only blessed with deserving power, but also with love. 

But no one knew what really lied behind closed doors. The King Jacaerys and Queen Baela Targaryen had not loved one another. They might’ve liked each other in a way, back then. But the war and deaths have changed them both forever. They could not find any semblance of romantic attraction or comfort in the other. They had mourned their families in such a similar way, yet somehow still jarringly different. To find intimacy with the other was to face unspoken grief. 

Jacaerys had thought that the loveless marriage would be the end of him ever experiencing a pure, tender bond with anyone. But he had seen you in a line of tired looking, plain and pretty girls, and he had sworn he’d seen you in a dream before.  

If his mother was alive, she would be cursing him off his head. In fact, sometimes he hears her too. Yelling, and calling him a failure of a son, as he’s holding your thighs open, plunging himself deeper inside of you. An affair had by kings wasn’t uncommon, but he wondered how many of them were of love and not lust. He knew he would love you like his mother loved his father. But no matter how much of him is his mother’s son, he would not let you suffer the same end as his father. 

He learned quickly that you weren’t as docile as you looked. Ask the wrong question and you’ll snap back. And yet, you were also not as hostile as you make yourself to be. You scold him like no one dares to do to the King, and you call him names on days he’s being particularly irritating, receiving a rising reaction from his shocked and baffled advisor and guards. But he knew that you were harmless. And you knew that a man like him can take a few jabs. And as much as the insults keep on coming, you advise him like no one does either.  

You run your fingers through his hair like you’d give up everything you have to be able to touch him. And he looks up to your standing figure through his mussed-up hair as he kneels down with his arms circling your waist, like no one could ever look to even the greatest of kings. 

“You will carry my children.” He had once told you.

The late-night silence where only the wind was able to speak louder than either of you, making anything he was saying sound possible. “Your queen will hold a knife to my throat.” You responded, feeling him pull you closer to his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. “I would not let any other woman be the mother to my children except you.”  

You let out a hoarse laugh that sounded almost too cynical to his liking. “I am not your woman, even if I am your property. Any child you have with me is a child destined for a life of suffering.” Had he not been so tired, he would have presented a stronger case after seeing you argue with much more fire even in such an hour. But instead, he only shook his head hard enough for you to feel his disagreement. “You are not my property.” You hummed with your ear to his heart. “I would be yours if you’ll have me, and I’d let you rob me naked if that be your heart’s desire.” You let out a scoff you always do when you’re finding him ridiculous and drunk. Only soft kings dare to dream, a reminder you bring up constantly to him. All because you knew what usually happens to those kinds of rulers, and even if you wouldn’t say it out loud, you cared for him too much to see him resigned to such a fate.  

Three months later, you were with child. Brimmed with joy, Jacaerys had vowed to legalize the babe as soon as it comes out. And even with his queen’s relentless challenging to his title and responsibility, he refuses to send you away. He asks her forgiveness for the disrespect the child’s birth would be to her, but his mind was set.  

An illegitimate royal child was not unheard of, and Jacaerys’ fortunate case of being a man helps lessen the cacophony of riots and disagreement within the council. But when it had been confirmed that the child would be legalized and appointed as his heir. How can a scion of the Targaryen family be a bastard made by bastards.  

And yet with every voice raised against him, his assurance only becomes stronger. Every drink you take and every meal you eat will be tested first for poison. And every move you make would be supervised and followed by personal guards that were starting to make you regret being with him.  6 months into the pregnancy, you had relented into staying in your chambers, his overprotectiveness had become more obvious. Not even the Queen was granted to visit you, in fear of bad intentions.  

His actions had hurt Baela, for she expected him to know better what kind of person she is in terms of morality.  

When your water finally broke, he was 20 minutes late. When a guard had run to him in the throne room to announce the birth, he didn’t need to be told twice to get himself off the iron throne, running to you as fast as he could. You had given birth to a set of twins. A girl, and a boy. He had made it to you in the last few seconds before you let out your final breath. You had whispered his name as he squeezes your hand in a fist while apologizing profusely. “I couldn’t have belonged to anyone else, even if I wanted to.” He had cried by your side. You responded with a confession you’ve never uttered aloud, though both of you already knew what it was. You had breathed out so quietly, words only meant for his ears, “I love you.” The lights in his eyes died out the second you were announced deceased.  

He sat by your cold body for hours before he could be convinced to let his grip on your dead arms off. He held both of his babes for the first and last time in his arms that day before spending the next 2 days locked and isolated in his chambers. Rhaenyra and Lucerys Targaryen. A storm brewed in the sky of Kings Landing. Wild winds and lightning as devastating as his own heart. The people stayed inside as the weather rips off wooden houses and floods the streets in every corner that is 

Baela had tried speaking to him, as gentle as she could, reminding him of his children. But he was non-verbal. And so, she gave up.  

On the third day, Rhaena Targaryen had rushed to her Queen sister, screaming in pure terror as she held up a folded and opened envelope of a letter. The doors to the King’s chambers were slammed open, only to find the place empty. The King hadleft. He had exited the castle to the storms.  

And in his letter contained his want for his wife to rule in his stead until his daughter Rhaenyra reaches the age of 10 and 8, old enough to be wed to her brother, and then after, she’d take her rightful place as Queen.

A legitimate claim to the throne.  

The only other thing written besides his will, was a sentence among the lines, ‘Only a soft king dares to dream. And I am as weak and soft as it can be.’ 

[alittlefrenchtree]

I’M GOING TO SPOIL STUFF.

I’m also going to tag as best as I can but we never know if Tumblr is going to fuck things up and better safe than sorry so. In this post there are going to be:

Screenshots from the first dune part 2 trailer

Informations you get from the book, either in the first part or the second part.

Maybe informations from the Messiah book? Not sure.

If you’re not sure, better not read and quickly scroll. But if you don’t care and would like to see my endless rambling about the trailer, and if you haven’t read the book and would like a bit more detailed context about the Dune universe, sit down with me for a minute 💜 

I'll never never never be tired of watching the desert shot by Denis. This is so smooth, so calming, so satisfying. My soul is happy 😌

This is the first shot of the trailer that made me go ohmygod. I'm not sure what's going on exactly in this scene but I find these few seconds SO POWERFUL for some reason. I'd wish Herbert would have done more with Lady Jessica in the whole story (even if her not being really present gives more room to other very interesting characters) but I can't wait to see Lady Jessica in this part 2. The glimpses we see in this trailer are exciting (to say the least).

When the talk was all about Florence vs Anya, I thought Anya was closer to what I had physically in mind for a character like Irulan. Seeing the trailer now, I think Florence's smartness, attitude and personality might be a very good thing for Irulan. Good move, Denis, good move.

I love this shot and I love it even more because it could look like something form The Messiah. Or even the Children. Incredible. I love that Timmy's account used it for promotion.

AH. That's where all the problem start. And the spoilers. I'm not sure what will be said in the movie so, maybe I'm not spoiling much but, still. Anyway.

If you don't know, this is Feyd-Reutha. He's the Harkonnen Baron's nephew and his heir. While Paul is the Baron's grand son. In the Bene Gesserit's plans, Paul was supposed to be a girl and marry Feyd. Their kid was supposed to be the Bene Gesserit's Kwisatz Haderach. As you must now from the first movie, all of this was fucked up because Lady Jessica gave Duke Leto the boy he wanted. In the book, Feyd is supposed to look a lot like Paul, to be a charismatic figure like him and everything. I'm not sure choosing to make Austin look like what they decided all the Harkonnens should look really serve this idea? I get that it's a good idea for cinema and a movie targeting the largest audience possible that Harkonnens all look similar so everybody can quickly understand the different sides, families and who's good and who's bad. (Truth is, everybody is bad in Dune. Except the mouse. The mouse can stay.) But, I also think that nothing looks more powerful and dangerous than a bad guy looking like a good guy (in narration standards). If I remember correctly, Feyd can be read as a bit of a mirror for Paul's character and I would have like to see a bit of this physically? I don't know. I want to be convinced because I am not really right now.

I love sci-fi and fantasy universes exactly for these aesthetics. Mysterious items. It fascinates me probably because I would have no idea about how to write these kind of things myself.

I clearly remember the moment I've read how Paul's skin was supposed to look like after 3 years living in the Arrakis' desert. And I remember thinking how the hell they're going to make this happened how Timmy's skin of all people. Like the guy would probably managed to burn in Glasgow so, I was doubtful. I still am since he still looks silky smooth for most of the trailer but i like the way his skin looks here. That being said, they seem to have made some kind of arrangement with the timeline of the story. I'll have more thoughts about it after seeing the movie.

It might be just me but this piece of scene didn't sound very clear to me, even with memories of the book. Like, we don't know what looks like a normal worm ride so, are we supposed to understand what's going on and what's fancy? Plus what Paul's doing doesn't look fancy at all, it looks more like he's struggling sooo? It's not smooth, but not fancy either, so idk. Unless they're is a meaning of fancy that I don't know of, i'm a bit confused by this part. But this,

this is genius. Perfect midway between admiration and fear. Exactly what is needed to look at Muad'Dib.

I wonder why some parts are in black and white. Seems a bit easy for a vision and wasn't used in the first movie so it would be odd but i have no other theory.

I'm a bit upset because if it's the scene I think it is, it was very different in my head. Maybe I don't remember correctly, but for me, in this scene Paul is talking to a couple of hundreds people top and is very close to them and for me it suits the Muad'Dib effect better? It's kind of hard to explain, especially in English, but for me, Muad'Dib doesn't really scream directly to thousands of people who can't barely see him to send them to war. I see him as a figure who will talk to the couple of hundreds people he's with and be so close to them you can see his reflection in their eyes. He's a legend in the sense of a belief. It's the idea of him, his words spreading from person to people and from people to person that make Muad'Dib who he is. I guess it would have been less impressive for a film like Dune but I was impatient to see this scene, a sort of prophetic version of his speech in the King, and now I'm not sure. I hope they did good but and that he's delivering his speech in a other scenery and then going there rather than having to shoot such a powerful moment in front of nothing and with no other possibility than to yell everything.

After thought was to wonder if Timmy learned to radiate such confidence (especially in the scene of the second screenshot) for Paul or if Paul taught him to feel confident. Life as an actor must be so so weird.

Long story short, I know the movie is going to be fantastic but I have just a few interrogations about how certain things look. And last but not least, the work that the music does for this movie is PHENOMENAL, even if it's nothing that we haven't read before. Hans is a genius, I'd offer him my first child without a second thought. (i don't have kids. I don't want kids, so it's a way of saying, chill out.)

[denimbex1986]

'If, in between big heaving sobs, you don’t leave All Of Us Strangers humming Frankie Goes To Hollywood’s The Power Of Love, then check your pulse: you too might also be a departed figure from the afterlife.

Writer-director Andrew Haigh’s hauntingly beautiful film understands the power of nostalgia, and how much of it is rooted in sound. “I think almost every single song that comes out was scripted," he recently told IndieWire. "I knew what that music was before I even started, and I made sure we got the rights to it before we started. Everything was sort of designed with that in mind. [The movie] is about the power of music, weirdly, to drag us back into the past.”

Here’s all the key needle drops from the film (watch out for some spoilers along the way):

Setting The Scene in Adam’s Flat – Fine Young Cannibals: Johnny Come Home

While stuck with writer’s block, Adam cues up this archetypal slice of ‘80s pop to transport himself back to the era. As Roland Gift’s falsetto cries out ‘Johnny/We’re sorry/Won’t you come on home’, is it this 1984 track that causes Adam to revisit his own home, and find out if his parents were also sorry for what happened in his childhood? Or is it Build by The Housemartins, that he also spins, that has him yearning for the past once again?

The Christmas Tree Decorating Scene – Pet Shop Boys: Always On My Mind

The family don’t yet know it – well, apart from Adam, that is – but this is the last time they’ll all be together, a picture perfect moment as they decorate the Christmas tree. As they do so, they start to sing along to the 1987 Pet Shop Boys cover of Elvis Presley’s Always On My Mind. The lyrics (Maybe I didn't hold you/All those lonely, lonely times) echo the repressed nature of some middle-England families of that age, but have an extra poignancy and subtext for Adam and his dad. It seems to be at points cathartic, as they sing what they could never express at the time.

The Nightclub Scene – Joe Smooth: Promised Land

Once voted number 4 in DJ Mag’s Top 100 Club Tunes, there’s no dance floor that this song can't fill. The song speaks of unity, of how there’s peace and comfort when we join forces with others – and whether it’s the song or just the bumps of ket Adam and Scott hoofed up in the club toilets, for one moment, Adam is happy, enjoying a transcendental moment among the sweaty, smiling faces in the crowd. If the film is all a dream, we hope that this is one event that actually came to pass for Adam in reality and not just the breakdown afterwards.

The Meltdown Scene – Blur: Death Of A Party

Used to great effect, the one song in the soundtrack from the ‘90s (1997 specifically, from the band’s self-titled album) is a slowed-down, twisted and distorted nightmare, as Adam either falls into a terrifying k-hole, or falls screaming further back into his delusional hallucinations. Perhaps both! Either way, the art-school band track perfectly captures that moment on a night out when it all gets a bit dark.

The End Scene – Frankie Goes To Hollywood: The Power Of Love

“I’ll protect you from the Hooded Claw,” Adam tells Harry in the final scene, “Keep the vampires from your door.” He is, of course, quoting from the Frankie Goes To Hollywood 1984 song, The Power Of Love. It’s not the first time that the song appears in the film, as Adam plays it earlier in the story, and it’s on the TV on the night Harry tries to drop in.

The song would also have extra significance for Adam, who, we learn, lost his parents in a car crash on Christmas Eve. Although not intentionally created as a Christmas song, when the nativity-theme video for the track was released, alongside the religious iconography for the single's artwork, it was placed in the Christmas canon forevermore and hit number one in the charts in 1984. Each new festive year, as Adam heard that song, it will have transported him back to that tragic Christmas as a child when he lost his parents.

It’s a total gut punch of a song to use in the ending minutes of the film, as the lyrics implore us to ‘make love your goal’. This ethos is reflected in both the ending of All Of Us Strangers and in the beginning of the music video, with light emanating from a giant star. Equally, the warm, fire-like lighting that Haigh bathed many of the romance scenes in seems to reference the lyrics ‘Flame on, burn desire/ Love with tongues of fire’, as Adam’s joy with a partner finally illuminates his dark world. Ultimately, as the pair fade into stars and the credits roll, the lyrics sing out: ‘Love is the light/scaring darkness away’.

Back in 2012, Frankie Goes to Hollywood frontman Holly Johnson spoke about his deep attachment to the song. “I always felt like The Power of Love was the record that would save me in this life," he told The Guardian. "There is a Biblical aspect to its spirituality and passion; the fact that love is the only thing that matters in the end.” A mantra that we hope Adam takes with him, wherever he floats off to in the ether.'

[6lostgirl6]

Here’s the idea thingy 👉🏻👈🏻 like, s/o is dating Paul, and he’s scared of like letting them know that he’s a vampy boy. One night they go to a drive in or any movie theatre to watch an old monster movie. S/O feels bad for the lonely monster that gets killed off in the movie and makes it known (for example, “Aw noo, why did they have to kill him?? *sad face*) And then Paul probably feel like comforted in a way??? So It makes him feel that maybe he could tell them about his true self??

Monster Pt. 1

Paul x G/n!Reader

TW: few curse words

Never in all of Paul’s undead life has he ever been truly afraid of anything. Being the world’s most dangerous predator makes one believe that they are practically unstoppable. Well, perhaps when he would anger David with one of his pranks with Marko at times, that can be truly frightful. However, what he felt in this present moment was completely different. 

He felt terrified.

He has felt that way since meeting you one night at the boardwalk. Man, you were an absolute surprise for him to find, a pleasant surprise. Stumbling across your own mate in your territory was something most vampires dreamt about when the concept was first introduced. Now, his mate was within his own grasp and your relationship was going amazingly well for the past few months. Still, you didn’t fully know him, the real him. The monster that walks amongst shadows and stalks their prey for survival. Your reaction for when he finally confessed to the creature was always on his mind since your initial meeting for the first time. 

See, every vampire has a destined someone, someone that was made for them. Being a creature that walks the earth without the fear of dying or growing old as time passes can be incredibly lonely and whatever higher power has created these creatures granted them a chance at happiness. However, that special relationship was never guaranteed. Even though there is a special bond that connects a vampire with their mate, the pull can always be severed when either are rejected or the other dies before their initial meeting. Paul was afraid of that severed connection. He didn’t even want to risk the possibility, however it was inevitable. In order for your relationship to fully blossom, Dwayne’s words not his, he needed to be open about everything. So, during your date night to the movie theater is when he will strike. 

Hearing the revving of a motorcycle outside your window brought a smile on your face as you finished the final touches on your outfit. Walking towards the window, you looked outside and chuckled at Paul sitting on his motorcycle and giving you a goofy smile, waving down at you from below.

“Come on, babe! We got a movie to catch!” He yelled. “Don’t make me come up there!”

“Okay, okay!” You laughed, playfully flipping him off which made him laugh and do the same in return. “I’ll be right down!” You closed the window and proceeded to grab your stuff before making your way towards the front door. Checking over yourself once more in the mirror and you stepped outside, heading towards his bike. 

Paul smiled at your approaching figure, his eyes practically sparkling at the sight of you. “Hey sugar, you look stunning.” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into a kiss. 

You returned the affectionate gesture, pulling away with a chuckle before he could deepen it further. “Thanks babe, and you make this one outfit you wear repeatedly look so damn good!” You said playfully, tugging on the lapels of his infamous jacket that you love so much. 

Paul laughed before tugging you onto the back of his bike and glancing over his shoulder to look at you as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “Thanks babe, I even had it pressed for ya.” He replied, turning away before speeding down the road towards the movie theater, smiling at the sound of your excited scream filling the air. 

God, he hoped things would still be the same after this. 

____

The movie theater was completely packed with people wanting to see the new horror movie that was recently released with Paul and you being one of them. Seats were being filled and luckily you both managed to find a secure spot in the back of the room. Set between you both was a bag of popcorn that Paul insisted that the both of you needed during the movie watch with his arm around your shoulder.  

When the monster was finally revealed in an emotional battle between the monster and the protagonist of the movie you didn’t even bother to remember. The crowd cheered as the fight continued, both sides receiving brutal injuries from one another with anguished screams and monstrous growls. Finally, the battle ended with the monster on the floor, slowly losing its life as the protagonist went to rescue their love interest. 

Paul watched the movie with profound interest, a smile tugging on his lips from the monster being slain. He glanced in your direction, however he was surprised to see the saddened look in your eyes and the frown tugging on your lips. He opened his mouth to ask you what was the matter when you suddenly spoke up, 

“Why did they have to kill him?” You muttered to yourself, fresh tears gathering in your eyes as you continued watching the scene. “He can’t help the way he is!” You rested your head on Paul’s shoulder, making him tighten his grip around your own. 

If Paul was alive and his heart was still pumping blood throughout his veins, it would have skipped a beat from your sudden compassion and sadness over the death of the monster. He couldn’t help but think that perhaps you would feel the same about him?

___

The walk towards his bike was in comfortable silence, your form bundled up in his jacket against the wind in order to keep you warm. Paul wondered if you ever noticed the signs that he was technically not alive. The way he was unaffected by the harsh cold weather or how he only could spend time with you at night. However, after seeing your reaction in the movie theater, he felt more confident that you would accept him for the monster that he is. 

You paused, glancing towards Paul as he slowly brought himself to a stop, his bike only a few feet away as he continued staring at the ground. 

“You’re unusually quiet…” You muttered, turning towards him in concern, “What’s the matter?” You gripped his hand, bringing yourself closer so you could gauge his reaction.

“There’s something we need to talk about.” He said, finally bringing his eyes from the ground to rest on your figure, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Something I’ve been hiding.”

[misslavenderlady]

The Lost Boys x Chubby Fem!Reader Headcanons 💕

Big thank you to @wowisksksj for this request! As a chubby lady myself, I was very happy to do this and I hope I made it truly special!

Enjoy~!

Now it’s no surprise that being immortal vampires, the boys have seen quite the variety of body types and shapes. Humans change their minds on what they think is “attractive” so fast, and they find that to be silly. There’s beauty in every kind of body.

The flings and crushes they have all look incredibly different from one another. It’s all a matter of who they’re drawn to at the moment, and what kind of personality they have to keep them wanting more.

So yes, they find bigger women to be quite stunning. They'll stare in awe without any shame, totally entranced by the beauty walking down the boardwalk. If they see something they want, they'll get it~

When they say “bigger”, they don’t just mean hourglass figures with small waists, large breasts, and an ass (though they do like that too). You could be apple-shaped, pear-shaped, have a small cup size, not much in the back, or quite a bit of belly in the front. They’re well aware that everyone isn’t going to look the same, and they’re totally fine with it. 

The boys are all incredibly handsome men with amazing bodies. They know they have pretty privilege and use it well to woo whatever lady they have their eye on. 

If you're more shy and worried they're just trying to tease or play a mean prank by asking you out (cough totally not speaking from experience cough), they'll subtly use their powers to ease your mind and enjoy the attention they give you. 

If you're more confident, then they boost your ego as high as it'll go. Compliments and flirty touches galore. You live for the attention, and they're more than happy to give it. 

They're a pack so if one of them finds you beautiful, they're all drawn to you. Even if you prefer one boy over the others, you might as well accept the fact that you're pretty much gonna date them all. That's not a problem though. More love to go around. 

Your own personal hype squad! They thrive on making you feel good about yourself. Your joy is their joy, so they will shower you with compliments without even having to be asked. 

They're supportive whether you're more prone to covering up or flaunting some skin. David with his two coats totally understands the former while Dwayne, Paul, and Marko are more for the latter. Either way, they'll be sure to tell you how stunning you look in your outfit (and how it would look even better on your bedroom floor~)

The boys are already very touchy-feely with one another, but they'd be even more handsy with you. An arm around your waist here, a subtle grab at your ass there, they just can't keep their hands off their beautiful lady. 

Each boy has their own unique way of appreciating you and your body. 

David likes putting you in front of mirrors. Even if his own reflection isn't there he'll stand behind you and whisper sweet nothings about the goddess he sees before him. He'll trace his gloved fingers over every curve and make it clear he finds you ravishing. 

Paul loves taking pictures of you. You're his muse and he loves setting you up in stunning poses so he can capture your best angles. He'll praise and cheer you on the whole time, getting you to smile widely. "That's it, sugar! Show off for the camera! You're so hot". He also has a few telescope keychain pictures of you in your birthday suit for his eyes only~

Marko is just as upset as you that plus-size fashion is such a joke. If you're tired of cold shoulder tops and endless floral prints, he offers to be your personal stylist. He knows how to sew, so all it takes is a few measurements from you to make exactly what you want. He knows just how to make the wardrobe of your dreams and help you feel like a fashion icon. 

Dwayne will sweep you off your feet-LITERALLY. If you worry about your weight and size, he'll immediately silence those thoughts by picking you up in his arms. No matter what you're doing or where you are, he'll take the opportunity to lift you up. Sometimes he'll even do it with one hand or lift you onto his shoulders. It always surprises you. If you start worrying about hurting him, he'll shush you and say "you feel like a kitten to me"

They proudly show you off in public. Usually, you're right in the middle of all of them, giggling while holding onto them. Sometimes other girls will give you a thumbs up and an encouraging smile as if to say "you go, girl!"

If anyone is rude to you in any way, they are on the boys' hit list. Anyone is fair game. Rude catcallers on the sidewalk, stuck-up workers at department stores, restaurant-goers who comment on what you order, ANYONE. Even if you don't hear the mean things, they do. And they'll make sure nobody bothers their lady. 

They make a show of loving every single part of your body. Stretch marks are caressed, curves are worshiped and rolls are kissed. They have all the time in the world and will take as long as they please to map out your beautiful body. 

If you like having sex, then be prepared to get your goddamn world rocked. They can lift you into their arms with no issue and have plenty of energy to fuck all night long. They each have their own style of love-making, but all equally ravish you (Paul and Marko especially love the saying "more cushion for the pushin'")

Each boy has their own favorite body part. 

David loves to take your face in his hands and stroke your soft cheeks while making you gaze into his eyes. It lets him appreciate what he’s claimed as his own.

Dwayne adores your thighs and hips. He’ll either rest his head on your lap while spending time with you or grab onto your sides to pull you in close for a kiss. 

Paul is a sucker for your breasts. No matter what they look like, he’s drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He cannot and will not keep his hands off of them. He may even offer to get you a mesh shirt of your own to show off your goods more.

Marko is an ass man. He has no shame. He’ll smack your behind at any goddamn chance he gets. If you’re bending over to pick something up, he’s going in for the kill. If you’re ever on a date with him, his hand is always in your back pocket, giving you a squeeze.

Since you’re not the same size as the boys, you feel sad about not being able to wear their jackets like other girls with their boyfriends. So to make it up to you, the boys each pitch in to help make your own custom jacket. They all add their own flair to it to show you’re their girl. They’ll even add patches with their initials or have the words “Lost Girl” written on the back. 

They’ll also indulge you in wearing those cheesy couples t-shirts from the shops on the boardwalk. The ones that say “If found, return to Y/N” and “I am Y/N”.

If there’s ever a day you’re feeling self-conscious about your body, they’re by your side to help cheer you up. No matter what it is that made you feel such a way, the boys will do anything to put a smile on your face again. They would never make you feel ugly or unwanted. They may be vampires, but they’re not monsters. 

[itsallyscorner]

I was wondering if you can write something about reader x marvel cast where they go on the tour bus with James Corden. Maybe reader is dating a costar (you can choose who)

💌

We Are Avengers

Pairing: Marvel cast x reader, Sebastian Stan x Fem!reader

Summary: Basically what happens during James Corden’s Star Star Tour😌

Warnings: None :)

Hello darling, thank you for the request! I apologize that it took so long for me to write, but I’ve been busy with school and I’ve been lacking motivation in general. But thank you so much for this request, it gave me the chance to rewatch one of my favorite Marvel cast videos so thank you for that as well, it never fails to make me smile. I hope you don’t mind that I chose Seb as the co-star you’re dating! Also, yes, I know I’ve been writing a lot of headcanons but writing this as a headcanon seems like the best way to write it for me😭 I’m gonna add in some pictures that the cast took with their disposable cameras, so enjoy😉

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(GIF from Pinterest)

✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

When it was mentioned that you and some other members of the Infinity War cast were going to be on James Corden, you were very excited.

You enjoyed making appearances on late night talk shows; Jimmy Fallon, Jimmy Kimmel—they were always fun to be on. Though you’ve always loved making appearances on James Corden’s show.

When you first heard about being on The Late Late Show, you were expecting to do a typical interview in the studio that would lead to playing a game later on in the show.

What you didn’t expect was to be led out to the parking lot with the rest of the cast, only to be greeted by a double decker bus with James’ face plastered alongside it.

At first you were all a bit confused but one of the producers came up to you all and explained the segment you were all filming.

Everyone was buzzing with exhilaration waiting to get on the bus. One by one you were called up, you being paired with Sebastian.

Wait, he would make you go up the stairs first so he can stay behind you, making sure you don’t fall. Omg and he would place his hand on your lower back too😭🥺

“Wow—Marvel’s own power couple, it’s such an honor to have you both on here. Thank you for coming!” James greeted the both of you. Partially acting because the cameras were rolling.

You and Sebastian beamed at him, proud of the title the fans and your cast mates have given you both over the years. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, James.”

James gives you both your name tags, pausing mid way while he was handing Seb his. James’ gaze shifts between you and Seb, “I’m sorry, you’re just both so beautiful.”

Seb bashfully thanks him, pulling you towards the seats, as you giggle behind him.

You and Seb sit towards the back, behind Don and Tom.

You all sit tight, talking amongst yourselves as you wait for the bus to start. In the seats were disposable cameras and some Late Late Show merch.

The bus hasn’t started driving yet, but you were all having too much fun with the disposable cameras.

Everyone was just taking pictures of each other. You and Seb took a couple selfies and some stolen shots of the others, mostly Anthony.

You even got a cute shot of Don and Tom:

Yes I know they used disposable cameras but I decided to tie in my ‘Polaroid’ series into this even though they’re not using Polaroids—just go with it😭

Being the more social one in the relationship, you were going up and down the aisle talking to everyone.

Seb stayed towards the back with Anthony and Winston. While you were at the front talking to Lizzie and Chris.

Being sad when you were all told to go sit down because you had to leave Lizzie.

Though it probably wasn’t shown in the video, I just KNOW that the filming for this segment was chaotic as fuck.

Chaotic in a good way.

But the whole bus was loud I just know it.

You could hear Mackie across from you talking loudly and laughing that contagious laugh of his.

You, Lizzie, Pom, and Zoe attempting to talk to each other from different spots on the bus over everyone else’s voice.

Chris and Paul can also be heard laughing all the way from the back.

James feeling like a parent because it felt like he was babysitting a bunch of toddlers.

The whole thing was freaking chaotic from the start, I mean ya’ll started the ‘tour’ with Benedict and Chris rubbing sunscreen on James’ legs.

Everyone passing around the sunscreen after, because it was sunny as hell and no one thought of wearing sunscreen.

Seb being a cheeky asshole and ‘accidentally’ smearing sunscreen across your face.

“Sebastian!” You gasped before a flash of light went off on you. When your eyes recovered from the flash you see Seb holding up a camera at you, snickering to himself.

James began to act as your guide, pointing out things like a coffee shop and explaining what it is.

All of you being childish and pretending to not know what a coffee shop or what a line is.

Laughing at Don when he got out of his seat and took a picture of the coffee shop. Like how he got into an over exaggerated position just to take a picture was funny.

Everyone being childish and acting as actual tourist in Los Angeles. Like pointing things out and asking about them or taking pictures of literally everything you drove by.

When Reggie Watts began that sing along thing everyone joined in, bopping and dancing along to the beat.

Like you guys are just having a really great time, happy to be in each other’s presence.

You could hear Sebby singing along to Reggie beside you, and you couldn’t help but just adore him singing and having fun.

He’d notice your stare, he may have had sunglasses on, but you could see the crinkle of his eyes from behind his sunglasses as he smiled at you.

“Na, na, na, na, na, na!” Seb repeated, leaning towards you to press a kiss on your temple.

Throughout the whole ride, he’d have his arm along the back of your seat or have it across your lap.

After the sing along, James went back to acting as a tour guide. He pointed to a red building—whatever it was—and deemed it as “Barbra Streisand’s holiday home”.

Josh Brolin, who was sat along at the back of the deck, raised his hand. “Excuse me! I—uh don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?”

James pretending to cringe and telling him that in order to use the bathroom you have to be in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom—end credits don’t count.

Everyone being childish once again and yelling “OHHHHHHH!” Like a bunch of school kids.

James points to Tom, “Tom Hiddleston do you need the bathroom?”

Tom, with his soft voice and a small shrug says, “I’m actually okay!”

James then points to you and Seb, “My lovebirds at the back, Sebastian, (Y/n), do either of you need the bathroom?”

You and Seb glance at each other, “Nah we’re good.” Your boyfriend answers.

“Yeah, I used the bathroom before we came here.” You look behind your shoulder at Josh, a smug expression on your face, “Unlike some people.”

Josh flipping you off while everyone laughs at him.

Since Anthony and Seb aren’t sitting together, I just know that Anthony would be yelling at Seb from across the bus to get his attention.

No seriously, I saw them in the background of the video and even heard Mackie yelling lmao😭😂

“(Y/n) call Sebastian!” Anthony yelled at you from across the bus, pointing to the man beside you with a grin on his face.

You chuckle and nudge Seb, “Your boyfriend’s calling you.”

Seb would shake his head at you and turn his attention to Anthony; who just wanted to take a picture of Seb from his side of the bus.

James trying to get spoilers out of all of you but thankfully you all aren’t Tom Holland or Mark Ruffalo.

“Does anyone on this bus die in the next Avengers?” James asked. Suddenly you were all quiet, not a word coming out of any of you.

Until Paul began to scream his infamous line, “snITCHES END UP IN DITCHES!”

Getting confused when James suddenly asked the bus to stop and ran off the bus.

Next thing you know, you’re all hopping off the bus and walking into a comic store with a Spider-Man statue at the front.

Seb motioned to the statue and looked back and Anthony, “We gotta get a picture with that.”

Anthony instantly agreeing—he was willing to do anything to tease Tom Holland.

Seb’s not that huge with PDA, but he always needs to be touching you. So he’ll be interlocking your hands with his the moment you walk off the bus and all the way into the comic store.

Feeling thrilled to surprise the people who were shopping at the store.

You all walked around, mingled with some fans, taking selfies with them, and signed a few things.

You were looking at some Funko Pops with Lizzie when you felt a small tap on your leg.

You looked down to see a small girl looking up at you with wide eyes full of admiration. In her tiny hands was a Funko Pop of your character.

You and Lizzie instantly coo at the toddler, crouching down to her level so you can talk.

“Hey, sweetheart!” You greet her, taken back when she suddenly wraps her arms around you into a hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around her small figure and hugging her back.

“I love you so much!” She squeals into your ear, arms tightening around you. Your heart swelled as she excitedly babbled about how much she loved your character and how you were her favorite.

“I love you too! Oh my gosh, you’re so cute!” You decide to carry the toddler, who you later learned was named Lila. Her parents scolded her for distracting you from the other fans in the store, but you brushed them off, your attention focused on your tiny fan.

You carried her around while you met other fans and signed more comic books and merch.

You even introduced her to your other cast mates.

Sebastian’s heart absolutely melting at the sight of you with a baby.

Homie wants to wife you up one day and seeing you with a baby made his baby fever sky rocket.

“Lila, this is Sebastian! You know who he plays right?” You ask the toddler in your arms. Sebastian ducking a bit so he could hear her over the commotion in the store.

“Yeah, he’s the wiener soldier!” She replied. Both you and Seb had to hold back your laughs at her answer.

Lila bragging about how she loves you more than Sebastian.

Seb having to agree because he doesn’t wanna make a toddler cry.

Before you all left, you took pictures with Lila and her parents and signed a bunch of her merch.

^ the boys got their picture.

You guys get back on the bus only to come back to rolls of paper under your seats.

You all sang the “Avengers” song, singing screaming the lyrics dramatically.

Don and Anthony bringing on the vocals.

Before you guys get off the bus you all take a selfie together.

Leaving Chris Hemsworth on the bus and walking off the bus with your heart all warm and fuzzy because you had an amazing time with your boyfriend and your friends :)

This is so long holy shit

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

🏷 Tags ↴

*if there’s a line through your username, Tumbr won’t let me tag you*

Marvel Cast/ Avengers Tags

↪︎ @ximaginx @lozzypoz321 @sunwardsss @pokemonbong @pjokotlcmarvel201 @whoslili @111111111111111sblog @marvel-is-a-mood @blckyungblood @astroponyo @universemarvel @imthebadguyyy @roseke @bi-myself-forever @httpscarletwitch @millenniumloki @cristin-rjd @swords-are-cool @melaninfalconbucky @deamus-liv @elvish-sky @catsandbooksandsstuff @ellajoy419 @moonlight-babe99

Sebastian Stan Tags

↪︎ @theresnoplatypus @wintersoldierlover @peacelovehobbitness @milea @sunwardsss @thedenimjacket @roserose26

General Tags

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading @dracoswhore007 @swiftmind

[no-reply95]

It’s nice to think that John was aware of Jim hitting Paul, especially because that would suggest a level of trust in John and Paul’s early relationship if Paul was comfortable enough to offload his family troubles on an outsider like John.

I must admit however that I never interpreted John’s comments in that way, so let’s have a look at what John did say in the 1971 St Regis interview:

“Paul always wanted the home life, you see. He liked it with daddy and the brother . . . and obviously missed his mother. And his dad was the whole thing. Just simple things: he wouldn't go against his dad and wear drainpipe trousers. And his dad was always trying to get me out of the group behind me back”

Just to provide context to the above statement from John, the above quote is in response to a question about whether there had always been big differences between John and Paul, so the fact that John’s first thought is to bring up the importance of family is really interesting, especially in the context of the break up of the band and the break down of his relationship with Paul.

John appears to be lamenting the fact that Paul’s father, Jim, had such an influence on him, he was “the whole thing”. Paul wouldn’t go against his father, even though Jim wanted John out of the group. So how did John feel about Paul’s devotion to someone who was determined to see him out of the band and out of his son’s life? Let’s return to the the interview:

“So Paul was always like that. And I was always saying, "Face up to your dad, tell him to fuck off. He can't hit you. You can kill him [laughs], he's an old man." I used to say, "Don't take that shit off him… “He treated Paul like a child all the time, cut his hair and telling him what to wear, at seventeen, eighteen.”

We know that John prided himself on being a rebel from an early age. Not only does it appear that John was an anathema to authority he also wanted Paul to push against the biggest authority in his life at that time, Jim. In the context of trying to get Paul to stand up to his dad and to shake off his influence, John seems to be recounting how he sized up the challenge that Jim would pose, if Paul did stand up to him: “He can’t hit you. You can kill him, he’s an old man” to me these comments seem to be John’s attempts at highlighting how little resistance Jim could/would pose were Paul to stand up for himself, Paul is the younger stronger man so in a physical fight, he would undoubtably win and yet we’re aware now that Jim did hit Paul and that was something that Paul resented and probably does resent to this day. I don’t think John would have made such blazé comments (or literally laugh) about Paul’s obvious physical dominance over Jim if he was aware of the difficulty and relief Paul experienced when he did finally stand up to Jim after being hit one too many times. Paul finally standing up to Jim was such a watershed moment in his life and if John was aware of Paul being hit, he probably also would have known what a big deal it was for Paul to stand up to his dad, so I don’t think John (even in 1971) would be downplaying how monumental that was and I do think his comments here are coming from a place of ignorance on Paul’s home situation but that’s, of course, open for interpretation. As I mentioned before, this part of the interview was meant to be an explanation of how John and Paul were so different, what does Jim have to do with that? Let’s now return to the interview:

“But Paul would always give in to his dad. His dad told him to get a job, he fucking dropped the group and started working on the fucking lorries, saying, "I need a steady career." We couldn't believe it… “So I told him on the phone, "Either come or you're out." So he had to make a decision between me and his dad then, and in the end he chose me”

John’s early clashes with Jim, I think, are really instructive for understanding the parameters of John and Paul’s relationship, the stressors on their relationship and it’s ultimate breakdown. John needed to be the central figure in his friends’ lives, he needed to be the most loved, the most important, the most influential he needed to be the preeminent force and his relationship with Paul was no different. However, with Jim and more widely Paul’s family, being of the utmost importance in Paul’s life, John’s need to be the most important person to Paul was under threat. I think John’s need to be the most important person in his closest friends’ lives came a lot from his background of not being prioritised by his parents, of never quite getting the unconditional love and approval he craved from Mimi so where else could he get that love and approval he craved? From his friends, from his gang and importantly from Paul. However, what this anecdote from John shows is that, even at the earliest stages of the band’s history, John backed himself to always be chosen by Paul over his family and he backed himself to the degree that he would put the band on the line to test Paul’s loyalty, if Paul chose him over his family in 1961 he would do so again in 1969 right? It’s also interesting that John took Paul ceding to Jim and taking a job as him “dropping the group” even though Paul never quit and continued playing with the group whilst managing his new workload, perhaps suggesting that John had a tendency to overreact when he felt that Paul’s priorities were changing and he seemed less committed to him the group. Then there’s also the use of “we” in “We couldn’t believe it”. It’s possible that John is referring to George and Pete here, but if Paul was still showing up and playing with the group, what would George and Pete have had had to fear? Maybe Paul isn’t the only one who sometimes uses “we” to mask his insecurities… Let’s return to the interview for a final time:

“So it was always the family thing, you see. If Jane [Asher] was to have a career, then that's not going to be a cozy family, is it? All the other girls were just groupies mainly. And with Linda not only did he have a ready-made family, but she knows what he wants, obviously, and has given it to him. The complete family life. He's in Scotland. He told me he doesn't like English cities anymore. So that's how it is.”

So, ultimately in John’s mind it appears that the main sticking point was that Paul would always want the family life, the family life that he lost when his mother died, the family life that Jane, at that time, was reluctant to give him, the family life that John could never give him but that Linda could and did provide. Now that it was again a choice between Allen Klein (backed by John, George and Ringo) and the Eastmans (Paul’s new family) Paul again made his choice but this time it wasn’t John but the family life, that had always posed the biggest threat to John, that won out. I think Joshua Wolf Shenk made a lot of great points in his book “Powers of Two” about creative partnerships, one of his most impactful was that Jim was to John what Stu was to Paul, an obstacle to the strengthening of their friendship. A lot of authors have (correctly) drawn the link between Stu and Yoko as creating a wedge in John and Paul’s relationship but how many have drawn the link between Jim and Linda as the entrance of Linda on the scene was just as impactful and, looking at the way John spoke about Linda and her marriage to Paul (that John and Yoko predicted time and again would be short lived), it’s clear that John, maybe more than anyone, knew just how big Linda’s impact was on Paul and on the break up of not just the Beatles but also John and Paul’s relationship.

[facegodandwalkbackwards]

I’ve decided that Renesmee is a trans boy <3

He figures it out in his fifties. Before then, he just figures he’s like his Mom, a little tom-boyish, a little butch. He’s not like other girls, he says. His Mom tells him that’s normal, she was like that, too. And if he feels a longing for the boys in his classes, well, that’s also normal, she says. Wanting someone is the first step to a happily ever after.

Renesmee thinks that sounds trite, but he’s young and doesn’t quite have the exact words to describe why he doesn’t like it. Why ‘happily ever after’ feels confining.

When he reaches his twenties--in real time, and not just in growth--he asks Benjamin about happily ever afters, because he knows his Mom is young, too, by their people’s standards. Benjamin has come to visit every now and then, not for them--he’s not especially attached to them--but because Jacob sometimes drives to Oregon or Idaho to meet up with him and have coffee. He tells Renesmee that they might be possible, but Amun thinks there’s really only ‘happy for now’s. He admits he feels that way, too, sometimes--that he wants to believe happy can be forever, but he knows some day Jacob will stop coming to meet him, and he, too, will die.

During the events of Breaking Dawn, Jacob told Benjamin why the wolves phase, and Benjamin--worried that his presence there might bring more pain--decided that if they were going to be friends, he would never come visit Jacob on his land. Renesmee wishes he could convince his own family to stay away, but ‘the weather’s just too good for us, there,’ he is told. ‘You’ll understand when you’re older. We can blend in with the humans easily there. Besides, we’re never there long enough to do any real damage.’

Except wasn’t he living proof of that being a lie?

His Mother doesn’t see it that way. ‘They weren’t forced to help us,’ she tells him. ‘Jacob, Leah, Seth--they wanted to help. They chose to.’ And he isn’t so sure that’s true, either, but arguing with his Mother never gets him anything productive. Especially when his Father always, always takes her side.

In his thirties, the family--the coven--wants to return to Forks. Renesmee says no, but is overruled by a vote. He goes along at first, but he doesn’t stay. Three nights into their arrival, the aging and grey-haired Taha  Aki--Billy Black, as he’s known, now--comes to visit the house and all but begs them to leave.

Paul and Quil and Embry had just stopped being able to phase, he tells them. If you come back now--are you really going to make them go through this, again?

And Renesmee thinks that maybe his Mother will finally understand. They’re not supposed to be here. But Edward says they won’t stay long enough for it to matter--just three years. That’s all. And when Carlisle and Esme agree, Bella’s convinced.

He doesn’t make a decision right there; he can’t. He’s learned that Alice is too conniving for Renesmee to get past without careful planning.

That night, he leaves. The note, hastily scrawled, tells his family he’s going to live with the Denalis. There are phone calls and tears and accusations. How could he do this to his Mother? Doesn’t he understand how hard it is for them all, living somewhere they aren’t wanted? Doesn’t he understand that he’s still too young to get why he should just come home and ignore Billy? It doesn’t sway him one bit.

Tanya and Carmen try to convince him, themselves. Your family is just worried about you, they say. They just want you to have a good life. Don’t be too hard on them. He knows it costs them nothing to say that.

And he misses them, if he’s honest with himself. Nostalgia is a drug and he wonders and wonders if he made the right choice, but he thinks about the fear in Billy’s face and feels sure.

In those three years, he grows to resent the Denalis. Every conversation that isn’t about why he shouldn’t feel bad for the pack--for the people who killed Laurent (and nevermind that he was hunting on their land, nevermind that he broke the rules, first)--is about how much his family misses him. It’s maddening. Renesmee is mad.

It’s Garrett that gives him an out. You know, he tells Renesmee one cold winter night, days before the Cullens planned to come up north for a decade or so before beginning their standard rotation again, you don’t need a coven. It’s nice to have. They’re helpful if you’re in trouble. But there’s nothing so freeing as going solo, bound to nothing and no-one, going wherever you like as it strikes your fancy. Good way to avoid making decisions, he says, and the little smile tells Renesmee that it’s an invitation. Go, it means. I’ll take the blame for you.

Kate isn’t thrilled when she gets a call from Alice, frantic that Renesmee is gone--just gone, heading west? No--south, now. No--now he’s leapt into a river she doesn’t recognize and she can’t make out what direction he’s going in. Garrett’s been in trouble, before--he knows if he waits a few months, it’ll be fine.

The years on his own are more than Renesmee could ever have hoped for. They’re freeing and wild and beautiful. He hunts in forests and deserts and oceans, and learns how much he can love himself--and still, something feels off. A sour note in the song. Something not quite fitting.

At first, he imagines he’s lonely. He’d always been with his coven, after all, and maybe that’s just what loneliness feels like. Except even in cities, even in the busiest cities in the world, he feels out of step. It’s something deeper.

He grows to resent the name he was given; when he was younger, it had felt weird. Like he was the stand-in for the people whose names he held. Now, he wondered how much truth there may have been in that. When Renee had died, Bella had leaned on him so much, fretting and trying to care for Renesmee as she had once for Renee.

He thinks about being called EJ if he had been a boy, and what that would have meant when Jacob eventually became mortal again. He decides he hates that name, too--but it does feel closer.

Renesmee goes through names like seasons, circling around an answer, reaching ever closer to it and yet feeling so far removed.

It’s in Brazil that he finds it. He’d lost track of seasons and finds himself there in the middle of Pride, and he sees men with breasts. Men with soft faces. Men with scars and furred chests and socks stuffed into their pants. He sees men in the vibrancy of transness and falls in love.

Rio, he decides, is a much better name. Rio feels like home. Rio is learning that he can bind all he wants; his bones don’t bend like a human’s do, and it’s not like he needs to breathe. He experiments with hormones, different dosages, different types, things he’s stolen off supply trucks in the middle of the night. For a long time he thinks they won’t do anything, that he’s too vampiric to use them until one day he wakes up different.

For his best guess, the venom pushes on one side or another of absolutes. Rio thinks he’s built up enough testosterone that the venom corrected overnight. His chest aches and his thighs ache and his chin and throat hurt like he’d been punched hard enough to knock him out.

When he looks in the mirror, what looks back feels right. He’s no taller than he had been, before, but his face--there’s fur, there. A thick beard and mustache and sturdy eyebrows. He’s got fur on his chest where there once were breasts. He’s got straight and narrow hips, and hairy legs, and he cries because his body has never felt so much like home.

If he ever meets the Cullens, again, it’s long after he’s remade himself. There’s a vampire in Georgia, he’s heard, that has the power of granting shields, an echo of the forcefulness with which she protected others in life. He doesn’t need to do much to convince her to place one on him. They’re alike--so similar they could be family. She’s not so human as he is, but she knows what it is to want a different body.

Her shields are different that his Mother’s were. One moment, Alice can see him--the next, he’s gone.

Rio stays in Georgia for a while. It’s lively, there, and he enjoys the company. There’s no spark--no romance--just a desire for kinship. When Berta chooses to leave, he follows her. It’s not a coven; they’re not bound to each other. They split apart sometimes, come together again decades or centuries past. And Rio stays away from Forks.

And he is happy for now.

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

Misto Categories 2: Meta History

So, we most likely started with Munk’s Assistant Misto. OLC had Misto sing Gumbie Cat, along with a lot of other exposition that was later given to Munkustrap. Munk and Misto appeared to pass the leadership role back and forth.

Problem: Misto is such a prominent figure in the tribe that no one should be surprised by his powers. He uses them to be the center of attention all the time.

Munk’s Assistant evolves into Showman Misto. When OBC Misto carries a musical number, it’s either him showing off or him putting on a show. Munkustrap gets the important exposition. Misto isn’t a high-ranking member of the group and is generally strange, so some of the tribe might only know him as a sort of stage persona.

Problem: Okay, his magical skill is still a bit too obvious. After bringing those puppets to life, the idea that he could teleport Old Deut back to the tribe isn’t that much of a stretch. Also, when Misto describes himself as “vague and aloof” while showing off with everything he’s got, it gets a bit too ridiculous.

Showman Misto evolves into Vague and Aloof Misto. This starts in Vienna. They take a character that had been doing a lot of singing and make him completely mute. They use a similar character design to what was used on Broadway, giving him a strange appearance. When he’s completely silent and cryptid-looking, he comes across as genuinely mysterious.

Now, for the next few years, this is what we’ve got. London Misto is Munk’s Assistant, Broadway Misto is Showman, and Vienna Misto is Vague and Aloof. Even as the casts of different productions begin to change, the characterization has been decided on. The prominence of the Broadway show means that Showman Misto is quite popular internationally. US Tours sometimes used it and Japan fully embraced it. On the continent of Europe, outside of the UK, productions based on Vienna begin to pop up, and they start out with Vague and Aloof Misto. But then, something weird happens.

I could go on a long tangent about the Coming of Age Arcs of Cats, but I’ll keep it to brief notes here:

Victoria was the original Coming of Age cat, going through puberty. She has a solo dance where she begins to explore her own body. Later, at the Jellicle Ball, she has a sort of sexual experience with a tom around her age. Which tom it is literally does not matter because this scene is about her. The reason why London eventually went with Admetus is because the Admetus actor also played Macavity, and therefore had to be ripped and able to lift equally-ripped Munkustrap, so lifting little Victoria would be easy for him.

When the show moved to Broadway, they decided that the boy in the dance should have an arc to parallel the girl, because a physical coming of age arc focused entirely on a girl happened so rarely that no one knew how to react. They took the character of Bill Bailey, one of the Two Tom Kittens of the show, and rewrote him as Tumblebrutus, a boy with an arc about wanting to appear tough to impress his friends and the adults. Because he isn’t played by the same actor who plays Macavity, he can participate in the Macavity fight, coming of age that way.

The Vienna production did the same thing the Broadway Production did, as did most productions made between 1982 and 2002.

But, in 1989, the Paris production shifted the coming of age arc from Tumblebrutus to Mistoffelees. Misto had his own song. He was already a prominent character. This takes us even further away from the point that, in the mating dance, the tom doesn’t actually matter. But, the Macavity Fight came right before Misto’s number, so they couldn’t just give him the Tumblebrutus arc. Instead, his number becomes the moment when he comes of age.

So, this change is made, but Misto is still somewhat Vienna based and mute. He’s now being played a bit younger and less secure to match the coming of age arc. He might actually come across as shy, or at least a bit awkward, if you combine this immaturity with the fact that he never speaks. When you age down Vague and Aloof Misto, you get Shy Misto.

Technically, Shy Misto is a form of Character Arc Misto, because he has a character arc, but the Mistos I consider Shy feel different from the ones I’ve called Character Arc. Shy Misto is either Vague and Aloof aged down or Character Arc but mute.

Now, Shy Misto moves from Paris to Zurich and Amsterdam. More Vienna-based productions. Actors who played Misto in these productions went on to play the same role in non-Vienna-based productions. This included Broadway. This led to Shy Misto and Showman Misto being combined. Misto sings, though not as much as before, and he has that flashy Showman energy, but he still has Shy Misto’s character arc and younger age. This creates Character Arc Misto.

The 1998 VHS uses Character Arc Misto and it’s the most accessible version. A generation of future Mistos will base their own characterizations on this one.

Then something happened with the Broadway Revival and Misto lost his arc. The actors playing Misto and Tugger played up their dynamic to compensate, but with only their dynamic making Misto stand out, this is how we get Tugger’s BF Misto.

So, people built off of each other’s ideas to create new characters, providing several options on how to portray Mistoffelees. The changes mainly occurred between 1981 and 1996. 

Now, to give credit where credit is due, here’s who I believe to be the first actors to perform each Misto type:

Munk’s Assistant: Wayne Sleep, 1981

Showman: Timothy Scott, 1982

Vague and Aloof: Valentin Baraian, 1983

Shy: Tibor Kovats, 1989 (He was the first Paris Misto and the first Zurich Misto. The actors to take the role after him in both productions were Shy Mistos, so it probably began with him. The oldest known recording of a show with Shy Misto was from Paris in 1990, when the role was played by Guy-Paul de St. Germain)

Character Arc: Jacob Brent, 1996 (This actually could’ve been Lindsay Chambers shifting from a Zurich Shy Misto to something that matched what was already being done on Broadway, but I’m not sure of that, having only seen Chambers in a Zurich bootleg. Character Arc Misto was definitely inspired by him though.)

Tugger’s BF Misto: Ricky Ubeda, 2016

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

A Reading: Part 8 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Witch Reader)

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Warnings: mentions of death/blood/violence, witchcraft,

Word Count: 2.8k

Another plot chapter babes :)

You'd followed him into the house, shutting the door behind you. There was a weird sense of deja-vu that set over you as you walked through it. You saw books everywhere, plants hanging off the walls, taxidermy lining the shelves, and you thought you even heard the jingle of a bell before the sound of scurrying feet. It reminded you of your own little caravan, except bigger. He led you into a kitchen, and there, sitting at the table reading a book and drinking tea, was an older woman.

If you couldn't tell by the simple sight of her, the fact that the spoon was stirring by itself was a dead giveaway that she was the witch. She looked up from her book, and the spoon stopped. You froze when her eyes landed on you. She felt familiar, but you couldn't place it. You expected something, some sort of burst of energy that your crystal would block. But nothing came. Instead, she smiled and motioned to the chair at her right side. It pulled out by itself, and she said,

"Hello, dear. Sit. I believe we have some things to discuss." And you could already feel your anxiety growing. She had telekinesis, like you did. It wasn't a rare talent in a witch, but it was one that usually gave you an advantage. It seemed, for now, you'd have to surrender the idea of having any advantages over the older woman. The man had taken the chair opposite of you, and you sat down slowly. "Tea?" She asked, and you politely nodded. You watched as the teapot and two cups floated over. One was placed in front of the old man, and one in front of you. The tea was poured into both cups from the same teapot, so the idea of her poisoning you was quickly discarded. A small bowl of sugar, a small pitcher of milk, and two spoons floated over as well. She let you make your tea as you liked, with the old man taking it black. You, keeping your wits about, did the same. You stared between the two of them, before you said,

"Um," You didn't know where to begin. You knew that she knew of you, but you hadn't expected her to expect you. It took you a moment to think about the situation, thinking if anything had been done on purpose. Maybe she just had a vision, you thought. Either way, you thought it was as good of a way to start as any. "How did you know I was coming?" You asked, and she smiled around her cup before she placed it back on the table.

"Figured you were a smart girl." She said, gesturing to the paper in your hands. "Any witch worth her salt knows to check." She finished, and you gave her a small smile. So, she'd called me on purpose, you thought. Interesting. It seems it might've been a test, but you weren't going to ask that much. Instead, your eyes flicked to the man across from you. He didn't seem to be like the pair of you, or to be supernatural at all. While it wasn't forbidden to do magic in front of regular people, it wasn't entirely encouraged. "Oh, this is Mr. Emerson. The grandfather of the boys your vampires are trying to turn." And you couldn't stop yourself from gulping. Oh, this was awkward. Despite that introduction, the man in front of you still seemed warm. The older woman seemed to realize then that she hadn't introduced herself. "Oh, dear, and I'm Mrs. Johnson." She finished, and you stuttered as you gave her your name.

"They're- they're not my vampires. I met them a couple of days ago and-" But she was raising a hand. Silencing you. The second she did, it hit you. Why you thought she felt familiar. You remembered your dream, the night before. The not-dream. The astral projection. The poppets, candles, sigils. Everything. if you hadn't remembered, you would've thought to be irked. You clamped your mouth shut as she said,

"I know, dear. You were just passing through, right? Well, you caught their attention and you- Well, you changed things. Made them a little more complicated." She said, stirring her tea with her hand this time. You could guess how she meant. While witches usually left eachothers territory alone, it wasn't encouraged to hurt one another. Killing another witch? Highly frowned upon. Not only was it bad luck, but witches were a dying race anyways. You expected her to continue, but Mr. Emerson did instead,

"I've been friends with Mrs. Johnson for a very long time. She's helped me with all kinds of hunts." You froze at the words, but Grandpa quickly shook his hands. "Vampire hunts. Retired a few years back." He specified, before continuing. His smile made you relax, and you sipped the tea just after he did. "You see, you happened to come to Santa Carla at a very bad time." Hell, did you already know that. Really, you were starting to think that you should've gone just a town up the map. Grandpa folded his hands, leaning forward. "I'd be able to spot a vampire blind-folded in the dark, so imagine my surprise when my grandson comes home a half." He said, gesturing with one hand. You nodded. You could imagine his distress. "Now, obviously, we can't have him turning. We already know who the head is and we just need to draw him out. Then, we can kill him and everything will be done." He said, holding out his hands and smiling like it was a foolproof plan. With the protection on his grandsons, maybe it was. It explained why the boys hadn't slaughtered them. A couple of teens, a couple of halves, and a retired hunter? Sure, they had the numbers, but it would've been sheer dumb luck if there was no outside interference. You looked between the two of them.

"So, what do you want from me?" You asked. You guessed they wouldn't have brought you here for nothing. And, since they hadn't tried to kill you yet, you thought they were going to ask you to do whatever it was first. Mr. Emerson looked at you, at Mrs. Johnson, and then back as he let out a small laugh. Mrs. Johnson was pressing her lips together, suppressing a smile. 

"Well, plain and simple? We want you to back off. Your protections are leveling out the playing field, so to say, and we can't have that." Mr. Emerson said, and you frowned then. So, they were calling for a cease fire. At least, from you. They noticed your silence, and Mr. Emerson quickly jumped back in to fill it. "Now, we know you really had nothing to do with this. You just got into town, and you probably haven't even met my grandson. They may have employed you, but you're not at fault." He said, waving his hands towards you. "No harm will come to you. From us or them. Mrs. Johnson will make sure of that." You glanced at Mrs. Johnson, and she gave you a nod. They must've guessed that you'd had your hands tied. Originally, you had. "And once the head is dead? Well, you can pack up and be on your way." He finished, and you were silent for another moment. Your eyes left them and went to the cup of tea in front of you.

It was a good offer. A really good offer. Step back and do nothing? And get protection, freedom, and the ability to leave Santa Carla in return? Hell of a good deal. Still, you didn't jump on it like they expected you to. You didn't jump on it like you expected yourself to. You thought of the boys, of their deaths. They'd die just to draw out the head, you thought. It wasn't fair. For all four of them to die just for that. You hadn't seen their deaths, but, looking into the cup, you practically could. It wouldn't be pleasant for any of them. They'd all probably go down kicking and screaming. Screaming for you to come save them. You gulped, looking away from the tea to glance between the two elders.

"No." You said. It was definitive and sounded more sure than you felt. You hadn't known the boys for long, but that didn't mean you wouldn't keep your word. You weren't going to back on what you'd told Dwayne. You remembered the relief you'd seen on his face, the same relief you'd seen on Markos. You remembered Paul's smile, and David's words. Even if he was as cuddly as a cactus at the best of times, he didn't want you dead. You decided to let that mean more than it probably did. 

"Dear, you don't know what you're-" Mrs. Johnson had reached for your hand, laid her warm fingers on top of your own. You pulled your hand back. They felt too warm, like they were going to scorch your skin. You'd grown too used to the feeling of cold flesh. There was a threat edging her voice, but one that made you harden. You were tired. Tired of being scared and of people assuming that you were incapable of protecting yourself. Defending yourself. It was true that you were petrified, that you didn't really know how to get yourself out of this situation. You weren't the boys, you weren't David. Truthfully, you thought it should be him in your place. But it wasn't. That didn't mean you couldn't act like him. Couldn't think like him.

You went over what they'd already told you in the seconds the words left her mouth. Mr. Emerson had said you'd levelled out the playing field. Really, you'd taken away the Emerson's advantage. If either side had a witch, then the outcome was obviously in the boys' favor. Not to mention, she said you'd changed things. You thought about how she'd blocked you from being able to do your readings, from being able to glance into the future. Maybe...

"Kill me and my spells become permanent. That's what a smart witch would do, right?" You interrupted, and tilted your head at Mrs. Johnson. "Making the playing field even, like you said." You gestured to the man across from you. You looked down at your cup. It was easier to be confident when you were looking at your own reflection. You thought of how David talked, how he acted. Like he was one step ahead and like he owned the room. You needed more of a power shift, so you continued. "My friends might not be with me, but if I'm not at the end of the street by sunrise, they go to their sire. Even playing field and five vampires. Sounds like a problem." You paused, sipping your tea. You looked up. Neither of them seemed pleased, and Mrs. Johnson went as far as narrowing her eyes. You didn't know if she could read minds, but, if she did, she'd see that you weren't bluffing. Neither of them spoke. You had them in a corner, and they'd hoped you wouldn't notice. Unfortunately, you had. "Now, I'm not a vampire expert, but I'm guessing the territory situation isn't that different from a witch's. So, best case scenario, this coven dies and...what?" You said, looking between them. Again, you were met with more silence. And it was exhilarating. They looked between eachother. It was clear they hadn't thought that far ahead. They were just trying to keep Michael from turning. "New coven moves in? Big hot spot, Santa Carla. Attracts lots of tourists. Will probably attract a lot of rival covens too." Now, you knew you weren't heeding David's warning. It was clear they were getting tired of your yapping, but you knew, on some level, the boys might've been impressed. Especially David.

"What are you getting at?" Mr. Emerson snipped, and you had to suppress a smirk. You shook your head.

"A retired hunter, a couple of hunter wannabes, and a witch." You held up a finger for each thing you listed off. "The first thing the new covens will do is try to clean house, and you and your family won't last the summer." You said flatly. 

It was true. You'd read it in your ancestors journal. Vampires only respected other vampires, and you were sure there'd be plenty trying to stake a claim on a spot like Santa Carla. Tourists, its crime rate, and general reputation? It was a dream come true. And if they killed the last coven, their names would be on missing posters before the Emerson's could even celebrate. The only thing preventing that was the current coven holding onto the territory.

Grandpa shook his head, letting out a laugh. He shook a finger at you, but Mrs. Johnson didn't seem to think you were funny. She was thinking your words over, trying to find a way to make you wrong. Some of the words your ancestor had written rang in your head. They'd written that, with vampires, it was best to avoid. And, if you couldn't avoid, to appease. All other routes hardly went the way they'd hope. You took another sip of your tea.

"So, what do you suggest?" Mrs. Johnson said. It seemed to pain her to ask the question. You tilted your head before you put the tea down. That was a good question, but there was only one thing you really wanted. 

"Leave the boys alone." You started. It was the only thing you'd promised, and the only thing you really desired. You wanted the boys to live, and you wanted them to live up to their part of the deal. Even if you knew you should head out of Santa Carla the second you weren't needed.

Still, you weren't going to be unfair and you knew you needed to give them something in return. There was only one thing you really could give them.

"And I'll convince them to let you kill Max."

***

That was a feat that was going to be easier said than done. You stood on the street corner, replaying the conversation over and over in your mind. It had gone well all things considered. You'd bought the boys time, and you promised the Emerson's, and Mrs. Johnson, something that they wanted. Kill Max and Michael is human once again. You'd talked about what would happen afterwards, and you'd made it clear that the boys would inherit his territory. They'd avoid them, and vice versa. They had no reason to betray you, as the only good course of action was the one you'd detailed. You let out a breath. So, why were you so nervous?

You tried to empty your mind. Make it so they had to hear it come out of your mouth instead from the unfiltered thoughts inside your head.

"For someone trying not to think, your thoughts are pretty loud." A voice said behind you, and you jumped. You turned, staring into the face of the bleached blonde. His eyes seemed half amused, and you watched as a slight smirk came onto his face before he reached inside his coat. You had placed a hand over your chest, before you let out a breath. You tried your best, but his words didn't give you any hope that you'd succeed. So, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

"It went okay. I-I met Grandpa Emerson." You said, and you watched as he blinked in surprise. You were just supposed to meet the witch, but it was clear how they'd manage to employ her to help them then. He cursed under his breath. It was obvious they hadn't realized he was going to be a threat, and you quickly tried to keep his mood up with good news. "I got them to agree to let you live." You said, and David paused at that. A half-scoff left his lips as he lit his cigarette. The flick of his flame, the leather of his gloves. You wondered if he'd have the same effect on you if he wasn't a vampire. You wondered if he'd been just the same when he was human. Still, you could practically see the thoughts in his head. That it wasn't really their decision if they lived or not.

"How's that?" He asked, and you didn't miss his tone. He was half-serious, half playing at arrogance. Still, you answered his question just the same. The words were hard to get out, and you wished it wasn't just David that you had to say them to.

"I said you'd give them Max." You waited with bated breath. You expected a flash of anger, just like the flick of his lighter. Cruel words, icy eyes, and perhaps even the same violence you'd seen the first night. Instead, he blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth and asked,

"Is that it?"

[popopretty]

Storm Bringer Spoiler (7)

I am not sure if anyone has translated it yet but many people asked me about the relationship between Verlaine and Rimbaud so I hope these excerpts from Rimbaud’s memoirs will help. These are from two different parts of CODE;04 of the novel.

Please feel free to re-translate it if you want. Just understand that I do make mistakes because I don’t speak either Japanese or English as my first language. So sometimes I will change or update this translation without prior notices. 

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Fine weather - Evening - Waning Moon

The mice are running, black in the gray of the evening.

A mouse lady is running, gray in the black of the darkness. 

I look at the moon, holding the pipe in my mouth. Doing nothing can be fun too. Let’s go when the fire from the pipe goes out. 

After I run, behind the dry sound of my shoes, there will be nothing but death and corpses and blood and aguish and misery.

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Rainy day - Midnight - Waning Moon

I am writing this after crawling out of the rat hole. I am staying at a leaky inn. There is the sound of the rain leaking somewhere. The lamp on my bedside is too dark I can’t even see the bottle of wine on my desk clearly. This handwriting definitely looks bad too. But for the time being, it doesn’t matter. 

Because I want to write down what happened right away.

Until just two hours ago, I was in the secret cellar of the anti-government forced called “May of the Revolution”. It is all over. The outcomes are superb. In the eyes of the higher-ups. 

But for me, I can’t bring myself to think that the operation was a success.

When I stepped in, all the members were at the celler. And ultimately, “he” is dead.

I wrote “he” here because this organization only has one single member. 

The mastermind behind the anti-government movement is a skill user commonly known as “Faunus” (*TN: The original Japanese words is 牧神, which means the God of Shepherds. He is called Faunus in Roman mythology and Pan in Greek mythology. I just picked Faunus because I like the name). I fought him once. He was strong. On top of that, he has a secret weapon. He by himself has created a skilled artificial lifeform, the “Black No.12”. That’s a monster that can manipulate gravity at his will and nullify any physical attacks. “Faunus” used an instruction system to freely control that lifeform. 

But this time, our Intelligence Department has done an amazing job (how nice it would be if they could do that every time). They managed to figure out in advanced that the input of the instruction system could be done by letting the lifeform breathe in some kind of special metal powder. That’s why all I had to do was to destroy that metal powder generator.

Freed from the instructional system, “Black No.12″ regained his consciousness as though he had just been released from brainwashing and turned to attack his creator, “Faunus”. That was a chilling sight. With just a squeeze of “Black No.12″ ‘s palm, half of the facility was blown away, together with Faunus’ upper body.

After that, I carried the unconscious “Black No.12″ outside. Now he is sleeping in this cheap inn.

What will happen to him now? Will he be executed by the government?

It’s terribly cold. The fire from the fireplace feels so far away.

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Bright day - Noon - Strong wind from the East

I am writing this wearing a thick coat, earmuffs, fur gloves and thermal underclothes.

I was talking to the liaison officer in the café earlier, and was told about “Black No. 12″ ‘s treatment. It was so unexpected that I had to ask again three times.

The government seems to consider “Black No. 12″  a valuable collaborator. Because as “Faunus” ‘s watchdog, the information about the anti-government network has been hammered into his head. We will train him, and make him a spy. And it seems that the education and supervision tasks have been left to me. 

Education? Me?

Can I really do such a thing?

I don’t have any connections with others because of this job. Because friends and families can become a spy’s weaknesses. Both my parents and my former lover thought that I had died in jail.

Can someone like me teach someone and guide them the way?

I don’t know. But what if I can?

Someone like me, who had thrown away his past and his name to be called by merely a code name, now can do something for someone else, for my country, and for my newly-born friend. The thought of that made me more excited than I could imagine.

My life, and my death probably won’t be passed on to the future generations. What will be given to me after my death will be nothing but a broken, nameless tombstone. But I am okay with that. As long as before I die, I can leave behind something for someone.

My first task is to give “Black No.12″ a new code name.

I have decided it already. Paul Verlaine.

The real name that my parents gave me long ago.

Paul. One day you will read this memoir and know the secret about yourself. I pray that that moment will be a time of blessing for you.

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Cloudy sky - Midnight - Can’t see the moon

I can’t believe it. We have successfully deciphered the “Secret of the Gentle Forest”. The worst beast of all is sleeping there. That’s where Verlaine’s

(The page was torn from here, unreadable)

....

Day xx

General Directorate for Special Services, Operations Department, Special Forces Group, Agent

Fine weather - Before dawn - New moon

It’s the day before my infiltration mission into a military base of an enemy country, so I am leaving a slightly longer record today. There will be no support for that mission. No rear backup either. No collaborator from inside.

The target to be captured is a new type of skilled weapon. It takes the shape of a little boy, but is actually a disaster that has the power to destroy the world.

It’s a dangerous mission. I might not make it out alive.

But if there is anyone who can successfully carry out this mission to take the world’s disaster from the hand of the enemy country, it can’t be anyone other than me and my partner, Paul Verlaine.

I have been thinking about it for a long time. About what I can do for my reliable partner Verlaine. I couldn’t come up with an answer until yesterday.

I will celebrate his birthday.

Of course, he doesn’t have an exact birthday. But I considered yesterday his birthday. On the same day four years ago, Verlaine killed Faunus and gained his freedom.

I ordered a small pudding from a confectioner in Paris and headed to Verlaine’s hideout with a bottle of wine under my arm. Verlaine looked more doubtful than surprised. So I explained to him.

Celebrating one’s birthday implies a very simple fact. In other words, it carries the message that “the fact that you were born is worth celebrating”. No matter what anyone says, your birth has a value.

And then there is one thing that can’t be missed when celebrating a birthday. A birthday without it is like the night sky without the moon.

A birthday present.

What I gave him was a black hat.

A brimmed bowler hat. It is neither particularly expensive, nor something made by a famous hatter.

However, the cloth of the sweat-absorbing band that goes around the inside of the hat was made of a very special material.

A rainbow-colored metal made from 10% platinum, 10% titan, and gold as the central material of the rest. It carries “Faunus” ‘s skill.  It was the thing that was almost completed in his lab, but I modified it into the shape of a hat.

When you put your head inside, the cloth of the hat will serve as a coil, and  prevent the external instruction system from interfering with the mind. On the other hand, the instruction system can be controlled from the inside, or in other words, the will of the one who wears this hat.

If Verlaine has this black hat, he will be one step closer to becoming a “human with free will”.

His reaction was pretty strange. He was neither happy nor surprised. He just said “I will take it for now.” with his calm eyes. He didn’t say anything after that. We drank the wine, said good night to each other then parted.

Even now, after one day has passed, I still don’t know if that was the right thing to do. Verlaine’s eyes were freezing and as far as beyond the North Pole.

But we will know the answer soon.

Tomorrow, at the enemy’s base.

If it is for the sake of my partner, I will gladly conquer any hell.

As long as I have my God in the sky above, the bonds in my heart, and the future in my reach.

(This is the last sentence of the memoir. Nothing was written after this.)

....

[paper-n-ashes]

The Late Shift - Part 2

Characters: Paul Sevier x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Little inklings of sexual themes. Otherwise we’re still in PG territory. Oh and mutual pining from two idiots. My favourite kind.

Authors Note: One shot? I don’t know her. Honestly, I don’t have any excuse. I just felt the urge to continue on with this dumb fluffy story because it makes me feel a little warm and fuzzy inside and I needed that. Will we drive this car straight into smut town afterwards? Ah you’ll just have to see. 

Catch up with Part 1 here

*

Paul always considered himself a smart guy. Perceptive, knowledgeable, with years of grueling education behind him to be where he is today.

His schooling, work, almost every minute of his waking moments was spent in the realm of artificial illustrations of correspondence. He could happily spend hours sifting through the words and numbers that made up all types of message transmission, might even admit he had a talent for decoding their significance and origin. Exchanges born from machinery were easy to analyse – they had set rules and gave little room for differing interpretation. He was comfortable in that world. Knew how things worked, what paths data and carefully devised information would take.

Human communication was infinitely harder to navigate. It was a skill he knew he was lacking in, compared to others at least. His words never came out the way he wanted, he struggled to say exactly what was wished to convey and agonised over the fact expression and tone could morph any remark into something with a whole different meaning.

Every day, he encountered people who used this as a tool - a weapon to obscure the truth and conceal hidden agendas. It was hard not to, working for the US government. In time, he’d become cynical. Wary of what people spoke aloud, assuming it was all said without much sincerity or reliability unless proven otherwise.

And then after another arduous day, there you were. Out of nowhere. Kind. Honest. Genuine. Within such an excruciatingly short interaction, you’d exuded all these traits so effortlessly. A breath of fresh air after being smothered by the smog the rest of his life contained.

Paul would easily admit his attraction to you was surprisingly swift. The rapturing smile you wore when you’d looked up from your notepad had him snared from the moment it appeared, an aura of natural vibrance and radiant energy shimmering out from your animated expression. What he’d expected to be a dry, tedious endeavour turned into a spark-filled scene, where an excited stranger made him feel both horrendously nervous and unusually at-ease. It had been a long time since someone made him feel like that.

It had also been a long time since he’d asked someone out on a date, for more than a few reasons. The more prolific Paul became in his job, the more unpredictable and unstable his life outside of it was. It took him across the country at a moments’ notice and consumed most hours of his day, meaning forging even short relationships was fairly difficult.

Plus… he just wasn’t good at it. Putting himself out there. He was shy, paralyzingly so. It’s not exactly something he could refute. His confidence was always born from experience and understanding, in knowing the reasons behind why things worked the way they did, along with being able to calculate what would happen next. No textbook could ever cover the entire spectrum of human personality, and there was no way to truly predict what a person might do or say. 

So, without the security of knowledge behind him, uneasiness and apprehension took over in most of his social interactions, particularly with those he felt a magnetism to. It’s exactly how he thought he seemed during his time with you. Awkward and floundering. Not exactly the most charming attributes for a man to have. And yet, the longer he was in your presence, the more he sensed those foibles fade into the back of his mind.

Talking to you was easy. Easier than it had been with anyone during a first meeting. What hadn’t been easy was enduring the seconds your touch grazed over him in your delicate workings while taking each different measurement - his heart beating a little faster, his muscles becoming a little more tense. When you’d eventually let your stare reach his, he’d seen how your eyes moved to trace the lines of his mouth, and it set his insides on fire. He’d been frozen by the unique type of burn, his body locked in place while a rare impulse begged him to sink his lips onto yours. In the past, he struggled to kiss a woman even after several dates, unable to push past the fear and doubt to turn his desire into action. However, in that moment, he’d been all too eager. His hand had moved on its own accord, fingers slinking up your waist, about to pull you closer when interruption instantly shattered his resolve.

The urge was still there in the dialogue that followed, although the promise of seeing you tomorrow made it easier to walk away, safe in the knowledge he had another opportunity to ask you out when his confidence was properly steeled. For once, he could be smart about this. Use his natural intellect to plan and act accordingly, giving him the best odds of securing more time with you.

Oh, but that all went to shit when your text message popped up on his phone screen. Seeing those words, even if they were meant for someone else, made his excitement reach an unfathomable peak, and in turn made him recklessly send a response without taking a second to think about the consequences.

And now, Paul had never felt so stupid in his entire life.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, the phone in his palm lit up with your conversation on display, he felt his stomach spasm with anxiety. Were you going to reply? What would you say? What if his bluntness freaked you out? What if you weren’t even talking about him? Was this all something his mind conjured up?

As the minutes passed without any sign of a response, the initially minor sense of panic began to compound, weighing heavy on his chest, the chaos of his mind soon melting into one certainty - he’d totally fucked this up.

About to slump his forehead into the steering wheel in a display of despondency, Paul suddenly felt a flash of courage at remembering the view of your face peering up at him. He knew the image of it would haunt him if he didn’t do something. He had to fix this. Explain himself. But it needed to be in person. He wouldn’t let technology mess this up for him again.

With a purposeful breath, Paul exited his car and began to retrace his steps past the other shopfronts, silently rehearsing what he wanted to say to you. He hoped to surrender himself to a collectively embarrassing situation, laugh off the turn of events, having it all culminate in an offer of dinner once your shift had finished. He already had a place in mind, only a street away, a little dumpling house that was always open late. Perfect for a cosy, quiet date after a chance meeting.

When his eyes latched onto your figure through the glass window, he stopped his hand from reaching for the door handle. You were crouching down in front of a small boy, his mother behind him cradling a newborn baby, your hand gesturing towards an array of child size suits. Paul couldn’t help but watch as your warming smile beamed, guiding the boys hands to touch and feel over the material, your words evidently making him feel more at ease as his expression slowly relaxed out of its worried frown.

Creeping backwards to make sure you didn’t catch him in your periphery, Paul felt a wave of relief wash over his skin, having evidence that your lack of reply wasn’t due to any of the worst case scenarios he’d been fretting over. You were just busy, concentrated on your work, giving your time and expertise to others in the same way you’d given to him.

The realisation was enough for him slink away, still impatient for your next encounter but assured in it being set within the next day cycle. He just had to wait.

Although, waiting wasn’t exactly a talent of his either.

 *

You were dying inside.

A friendly grin was plastered on your face as you conversed sweetly with the woman in front of you, making idle chit-chat while her son changed out of the suit you’d picked together, but the smile had never felt so insincere. Usually you loved when children came in to pick out ensembles for weddings and similarly formal events, but at the moment your mind was stuck on a small battery-powered rectangle sitting at your desk with a half-written message remaining under your lock-screen.

In the time before Paul’s response came through, you’d never felt more humiliated in your whole existence. Evaporating into thin air would have been a welcomed miracle. But when the returning text slid into focus, your whole mindset shifted.

He felt the same. He wanted you too.

You’d been in the middle of typing out a hasty invitation to come back and make true on his intentions when this overwhelmed mother with a fussy baby caught your attention. Her eldest son had done his best to iron out his only formal suit for the role of ring bearer in an aunt’s wedding this coming weekend, unfortunately resulting an a house full of smoke and a clump of burnt wool.

Personal matters withered into the background at the comprehension of her drained, exhausted demeanour, all your focus pointed back towards the job you’d been distracted from. Well, mostly.

You couldn’t avoid the thoughts and questions glinting in the back of your mind. Of what might have happened if this woman never appeared. What might be happening in an alternate timeline where you’d been able to send that waiting reply. Without intention, your wonderings turned into moving pictures – leading Paul into the back workshop, being roughly picked up onto the cutting table, his lips and yours finally connected in a heated clash, shedding all of his clothing until that heinous mustard shirt was crumpled on the floor-

The high pitched beep of the receipt machine snapped you back into reality, noting the relieved smile the mother wore while her son excitedly grabbed at the bags containing his dashing new suit.

“Thank you!” he hollered without needing to be prompted, waving his hand vigorously before skittering away to the door.

“You’re an absolute lifesaver,” the woman echoed, taking the receipt from your outstretched hand. “I’m really sorry for keeping you so late.”

“Oh don’t worry about it.” The time on the monitor screen just ticked over to 8:17pm, long after you would usually shut up shop and head home to your empty apartment. “I've got nowhere special to be.”

You each said your goodbyes, waiting until the precise moment her silhouette was out of sight before jumping to your phone. The same half written message was there, but now it felt impossible to finish. All traces of adrenaline had long since worn off, and the bravery that made you type out the risqué proposition was reduced to almost nothing. Your timid nature rushed back in full force, a thumb pressing hard on the little x button to erase all evidence of your out of character impulses.

Who were you kidding. You weren’t this person. Unashamed and brazen enough to dive into a fiery entanglement with a handsome stranger in the same evening you’d met. You wished you could be. There was never a time the concept was so enticing. But… it was a fantasy not meant for you to live out. They were destined for the outgoing, the cool and composed, the bold and sure-footed. You rarely felt like any of those things. And Paul, like most men, probably reserved their interest and attraction for those types of women. It was so silly of you to think any different. Getting your hopes up was foolish, and would only end in-

The tingle of the shopkeepers bell sounded, internally groaning as you slid your phone back onto the desk. “We’re closed,” you hawked, a coldness in your tone you couldn’t hide. Eyes snapping up to the intruder, a bolt of lightening shot through, barely able to stop the delight mixing into your blood.

“I just, uh, figured out something more that I needed,” Paul said softly, scratching the back of his neck, clearly nervous.

“You did?” you breathed. “W-what was it?”

His chest rose and fell with a calming exhale, making sure your stares were secured before giving his answer. “…You.”

*

Tagging some lovelies who might want to read. Feel free to let me know if you don’t want to tagged in future works!

@tlcwrites @roanniom @princessxkenobi @hopeamarsu @blowthatpieceofjunk @mariesackler @leatherboundriot @foxilayde @modernpaw @cornmousequeen @direnightshade @mylifeisactuallyamess @caillea @jynz-andtonic @paterson-blue @miraclesabound @prismaticpizza​ @millenialcatlady​ 

[uomo-accattivante]

Great article about Paul Schrader’s The Card Counter - a poker movie that’s not really a poker movie...

Some filmmakers write a hit movie and spend the ensuing years trying to escape its shadow. Paul Schrader never flinched. Forty-five years after his “Taxi Driver” script put him on the map, the writer-director has developed a body of work loaded with alienated anti-heroes compelled to violent and reckless extremes for the sake of a higher calling.

That includes “The Card Counter,” in which Oscar Isaac plays guilt-stricken Abu Ghraib vet William Tell, a man with a gambling addiction compelled to help the revenge-seeking son (Tye Sheridan) of a former colleague. Taking justice into his own hands, Isaac’s William Tell slithers through the Vegas strip in search of questionable salvation, not unlike a certain Vietnam vet named Travis Bickle did from the driver’s seat. As if to cement the comparisons, “The Card Counter” features Martin Scorsese as an executive producer, marking the first time the two men share a credit since 1999’s “Bringing Out the Dead.”

For Schrader, “Taxi Driver” comparisons are inevitable in all his work. “My tendency is to look for interesting occupational metaphors,” Schrader said in a recent interview. “‘Taxi Driver’ hit the bull’s eye of the zeitgeist and it doesn’t die. There’s no way I could’ve planned for that, but it does inform the stories I tell.”

At 75, Schrader continues to churn out movies much like his compatriot Scorsese, albeit on a much smaller scale. “The Card Counter” is the latest illustration of the secularized Christian dogma percolating through his work. “Our society doesn’t like to take responsibility for anything,” he said. “But I come from a culture where you’re responsible for everything. You come into the world soaked with guilt and you just get guiltier.” In his own prickly fashion, Schrader makes movies steeped in empathy for lost souls in search of redemption despite the daunting odds. “We’re all certainly capable of forgiveness,” he said, and chuckled. “Anyone who says otherwise is wrong.”

The “Taxi Driver” dilemma looms large in nearly all of Schrader’s work, from the dazzling high-stakes activism of “Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters” all the way through Ethan Hawke’s eco-conscious priest in “First Reformed.” While the latter, Oscar-nominated effort brought Schrader new fans, “The Card Counter” is an even more precise distillation of his aesthetic — a moody, philosophical drama about the vanity of the personal crusade.

Schrader, who has labeled his homegrown character studies as “man in the room” dramas, embraces the parallels as usual. “There is this kind of myth that the taxi driver was this friendly, joking kind of guy who was a character actor in movies,” he said. “But the reality is that it’s a very lonely job, and you’re trapped in a box for 60 hours a week.” He saw the same logic with gambling, a wayward profession generally depicted in the movies in the context of escapist romps, rather than the somber rituals that afflict most players. “I thought about the essence of playing cards every day, or sitting in front of a slot machine. It’s kind of zombie-like,” Schrader said. “You see commercials of people in casinos laughing. But it’s a pretty glum place. Today with slots you don’t even have to pull the lever. You just sit there and let the numbers roll.”

The gambling figure led Schrader to the bigger picture of his character’s conundrum. “I was wondering why someone would choose to live in that sort of purgatory,” he said. “He doesn’t want to be alive, but he can’t really be dead, either. What could cause that? It can’t be a simple crime, murder, or a family dispute. It has to be something unforgivable. And that was Abu Ghraib.”

After the fallout of that debacle, William did time in a military prison, and reenters society before the movie begins. That was a world the filmmaker wanted to understand in clearer terms. Though Schrader has received blowback for his controversial Facebook posts in the past, in this case, the platform was an asset: He used it to track down soldiers who had done time in the United States Penitentiary in Leavenworth, the only military prison in the U.S., to better understand the initial claustrophobic world that Tell endures, as well as the conflict between the justice he’s received and what he deserves. “This man has been punished by his government, set free, and paid his due, but he doesn’t feel that,” Schrader said. “What does he do then? How does he fill his time? That’s how it all began.”

Schrader himself toyed with gambling when he lived in Los Angeles early in his career, but soon gave it up. “I very quickly realized I was only interested in gambling if it was really dangerous and I didn’t want to expose myself to that kind of danger,” he said. Years later, though, the experience helped inform his story. “There is this whole fantasy of gambling movies from ‘The Cincinnati Kid’ to ‘California Split,’” Schrader said. “But poker is all about waiting. People will play 10 to 12 hours a day and two to three times a day, a hand will happen where two players both have chips. Now you’ve got a face-off. But that doesn’t happen very often. Most guys who are there are running the numbers, the probability.”

He envisioned “The Card Counter” as a repudiation of the traditional poker movie, which builds to the giddy release of a final tournament. When that moment arrives in the movie, Schrader takes the movie in a bleak, shocking new direction. “It’s not really a poker movie — that’s a red herring,” he said.

William is immersed in his casino journey when he encounters Cirk (Sheridan), the crazy-eyed son of another Abu Ghraib soldier who committed suicide. Cirk blames the soldiers’ former commander (Willem Dafoe), and hopes to loop William into the plan. Instead, the older man decides to take Cirk under his wing to talk him out of the act, which doesn’t prove so easy. In the process, the gambler forms a curious bond with La Linda (Tiffany Haddish), a gambling agent and pimp whose icy, relentless drive to make the most out of the poker circuit brings William some measure of companionship on his wayward journey.

It should come as no surprise that the “Girls Trip” breakout is nearly unrecognizable in the role of the calculated La Linda, which is also a distinctly Schraderish touch: From his work with Richard Pryor in 1978’s “Blue Collar” all the way through Cedric the Entertainer’s supporting turn in “First Reformed,” Schrader has made a habit of seeking out comedic actors willing to play against type. That’s partly opportunistic on his part. “They’re eager to do it because they want to expand their palette, so you can get them for a price,” Schrader said, chuckling again. “That’s necessary, given the kind of films I make.” But that’s not all: “They will always find a way to be interesting, even when they’re not getting a laugh.”

Which is not to say that the process comes easily to them. Haddish recently told the New York Times that Schrader had to coach her out of speaking in a comedic sing-song. The filmmaker put it in blunter terms. “On the first reading of the script we had, frankly, she wasn’t very good,” he said. “I told her to go back and read every single line without emotion. Then I said, ‘You’re not going to do that in front of the camera, but you can’t hit every line either. So let’s pick five or six lines you can hit where you get a smile or reaction.’ Quickly she got that it was a different rhythm.”

As for Isaac, whose disquieting turn suggests a maniac lingering just beneath the surface, Schrader once again turned to metaphor. “I told him to imagine himself on a rocky coast in the ocean,” Schrader said. “Waves are going to come up and get you all day every day. They’re going to try to batter you. Let them. The waves will go away. You’ll still be there. Don’t compete. In the end, the rocks will win. You have to learn to trust that the way these things are put together has more power than the individual movement.”

William’s routine includes an odd ritual in which he covers all the furniture in his various Vegas hotel rooms with white paper. While the motivation is never explained, Schrader said it stemmed from an experience with production designer Ferdinando Scarfiotti on the set of 1982’s “Cat People,” when Schrader realized the man was doing the same thing. “He said, quite simply, ‘I have to live here surrounded by these ugly hotel furnishings,’” Schrader recalled. The concept inspired the new movie’s most compelling visual motif. “Casinos are very ugly places. There are no exceptions,” Schrader said. “Often you aspire to finding pockets of beauty and there weren’t really any here except the only place he could control, which was his hotel rooms, where he could privatize his visions. I came up with this ritual for him to control those visuals.”

At a certain point, Schrader himself couldn’t control the visuals of “The Card Counter” for more prosaic reasons: After an extra tested positive for COVID-19, the production shut down last March, with five days of shooting left, and couldn’t resume until July. Though Schrader initially took to Facebook to fume at his producers, the pause eventually opened up an opportunity to tweak his vision. “I edited the film and put in placeholders for the five or six scenes of consequence that I hadn’t shot,” he said. “I didn’t have a fully finished film but I could screen it for people. Normally you only get that privilege if you have a big-budget film and you’re allowed reshoots.” The early audience included Scorsese, who provided a crucial note. “I asked Marty, ‘What am I missing?’ He said to me that the relationship with Tiffany and Oscar was too thin. So I rewrote those scenes.”

Schrader asked Scorsese to take on the executive producer credit as a favor. “I said, ‘Marty, wouldn’t it be nice to share a card again? I thought it would help sell the film but it would also be a cool thing to do after all these years,’” Schrader said. “Then a couple of weeks later his agent called wanting to work out a deal. What deal? I asked Marty and he said yes. That’s the deal!” Now, the pair are trying to collaborate on a new long-form TV series based on the Bible, though the timing has been delayed by production on Scorsese’s upcoming “Killers of the Flower Moon.”

In the meantime, Schrader has been mulling over the way “Taxi Driver” not only continues to inform his storytelling but the world at large. “Hardly a week goes by that I don’t notice or hear some reference to it,” he said. “But I don’t know how you’d tell such a story today. A number of writers have tried and I don’t think they’ve succeeded because it has to come out of a certain place and time. We have plenty of these incels around, but they’re not as original or revealing as they were 45 years ago when that character came on the scene. I wouldn’t know how to write about it.”

Instead, his next project is a love triangle called “Master Gardener,” which he hopes to shoot in Louisiana before the end of the year. He has several other potential scripts ready to go after that. And while he has expressed trepidation about the future of cinema in the past, he’s not convinced that audiences have given up on it yet. He recalled a conversation he had with Cedric the Entertainer when “First Reformed” made the rounds. “He said off-handedly to me, ‘You know, I didn’t realize there were so many people who liked serious movies,’” Schrader said, and chuckled once more. “Well, yeah, there are.”

“The Card Counter” premieres next week at the Venice Film Festival. Focus Features releases on September 10, 2021.

###

[seancekitsch]

Powerplay: a Marko x Reader fic

part 3 of 3, previous part here

Warnings: harassment, vamp typical shit, cursing, death/killing, smut mentions, reference to the book

Marko was a good boyfriend, it turned out, except for when he wasn’t. You liked the sweet little kisses, the teasing way he snaps his jaw at you when you catch him staring, the way he holds you while you’re falling asleep even though he doesn’t have to.You like that he listens, more than your friends do. You rang another friend the other day, and were left waiting with the endless ringing again. You want to be upset, but they weren't as close as you were hoping they’d be. Your close friends were back in New York, three thousand miles and a year of working behind you. And they were Marko and his brothers now.

You love the way he keeps you safe, your protector being probably the deadliest thing you could encounter. You love the way he laughs, always joking and jovial. You always thought his smile hid a joke like some mystery, but now you're in on it too, and it's the funniest thing. There is no secret  joke, just Marko seeing the world with eyes full of humor. He sees the little things, and now he shows them to you. You love the way you can speak without speaking. Silence followed by heavy laughter, kisses, and understanding.

You even love that week you were on your period and every night he ate you out until you screamed yourself hoarse.

“Marko,” you’d say, “lets ride.”

And he would obey, letting you hop on the back of his bike, always after work, always too fast. You'd like to imagine him crashing as the wind whips your hair, stings your face. What that would be like, huh. It's what you assume he feels like when he flies, free and wild in the night. He caters to your every whim, makes you feel the happiest,  as long as the sun has set.

He was less a good boyfriend when he was hungry, brooding and refusing to get close to you. He would be irritable, pick fights, silent treatment. He would purposely leave you in silence, but he wouldn't ask for a taste, despite your offering. He respected you enough not to try that. Other times, he would make sure that you could hear every thought in his head. His thoughts sounded like shouts, always telling you to get the fuck away, always reminding you how vulnerable you were, how easy to kill you’d be. It's almost maddening. You never knew which nights he would be the silent ones, or which ones would be the loud ones.  

“Marko,” you’d say, “This is just temporary.”

You don't even have to think the words for him to know what you mean. Or those moments during the day when it's highlighted just how different he was, would always be. He would always be twenty and handsome and having fun, with a guaranteed group of friends. With a family he belonged with. You would always age, you would have to find something else to do eventually, and you would probably have to leave Santa Carla, because he wouldn't. You could always bore him, with Marko one day realizing you can't keep up anymore. You would always be weaker, and no matter how often Marko puts you first, he always holds the power. You’re only the decision maker because he lets you be. He could always take that power back. Find someone new when you get old and he stays the same age. He will always be this way, and you will always change.

It's those nights you think of pulling away from him, and you hope he never hears those thoughts. You love him, but he’ll always say it's not temporary. It's not true.

You love Marko today.

The jingling of the bell snaps you from your thoughts, head rising only to be face to face with one of the surf nazis. Huh, guess the boys didn’t clear all of them out. This one was tall, a skinhead with an upturned pug-like nose, wearing a lot of denim with eyes alight with mayhem in his agenda. Oh, please don’t fucking break anything.

“Hey Baby,” he sneers. God, his voice was even worse than his looks and his smell.

“Not your baby,” you deadpan, wishing desperately for him and his friends to leave without stealing or breaking anything forcing a sickeningly sweet customer service tone, “But what can I help with?”

Maybe good customer service will get them in-and-out quicker.

“That hot little body of yours could help me out,” his tone is outright mocking. God, is this how dudes like these think they can pull? You can’t even hide your grimace as you flinch at the words. If there was anyone else, just one other person working tonight, this wouldn’t be happening. You know this. Working nights alone practically invited this brand of harassment.

fuckfuckfuck. It’s way too early for Marko to be sniffing around, and if you can get them to leave the next four hours of your shift will be miserable. The man laughs, and it makes your blood run cold. He leans over the counter, past the little curtain of incense haze; breaching your only barrier of safety.

“I bet it could. Couldn’t it, baby?”

His large arms press against the glass of the counter and your eyes immediately flicker from them to the back room, where your knife is. He straightens up.

“Cat got your tongue?”

You frown, meeting his eyes now.

“Do you plan on buying anything we sell?” The Bauhaus record you have playing over the speaker skips, and you almost jump. It's just enough to break the tension, the rising bile in your throat clearing.

“I come in here for you, girlie,” and he affirms what you already know. Now that half of the surf nazis were gone, they were struggling to maintain their turf on the boardwalk. So harassment and torture at their hands were on the rise. Many people over the past few weeks had been dodging them in the stores around here, and now apparently they had caught wise to that. Done with it, you take a step back, leaning yourself against the back shelf to retreat further into the curtain of nag champa.

“You can fuck off,” you offer, gaining confidence as you realize the bong behind your head was more than affordable, and if you broke it over his head, you could cover it.

He opens his mouth to respond, but-

The bell on the door jingles again. A familiar smile fades into a scowl. Marko looks like one of those greek heroes tonight, maybe if only because his presence saves you from the gross comments (or anything worse) of the shaved head across the counter. He immediately distracts the surfer from you.

“Why don’t you get outta here, buddy? Me and the lady were just discussing me trying her out later,” the man spits, and you almost gag at the mental image of that.

Marko laughs, that high pitched full body laugh you love so much.

“That’s funny, buddy,” He throws the man’s nickname back at him, “Cause that’s my old lady right there.”

You loved and hated when he called you that. Technically, you are a year older than the year he turned. The first time you all realized that, Paul gave himself a stomach ache laughing over the ‘older woman’ Marko brought home. Tonight though, the nickname brings the biggest smile to your lips.

“Damn right I am,” you chime in, “and you couldn’t take the hint.”

Marko seals the deal by striding over to where you are and pulling you into a kiss over the counter. It doesn't take much more for the surf nazi to leave, the jingling of the door opening announcing his departure.

“I’m gonna make sure we kill the rest of them before the week is out.”

He waits the three hours it takes for you to be able to lock up behind the counter with you, loosely holding your hips and following you around, only moving away from you to pick out new records when one ends. 

Come over tonight, Marko thinks, and you know it isn't a suggestion. You kiss him hard on the mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him to press against you. His arms automatically find themselves around your waist, squeezing you as he eagerly returns the kiss. This wouldn’t be your first time at their dilapidated hotel, with sprawling caves and chandeliers and beautiful spray painted murals on the walls. The first time you were there, he brought you there while the others were hunting. He fucked you on any surface not covered with knick knacks they'd collected or takeout containers, leaving you to sheepishly blush while he proudly talked to the others when they returned, deep red hickies and a bite mark on your collarbone you couldn't hide. The next time, the boys and Star and Laddie welcomed you in with booze and a feast and a fun night where you had to crawl out of the cave at dawn looking like a mess. Either way, he waits for you to agree before he leads you to his motorcycle.

“Star, Why don't you just become one of us already?” Paul whined, holding his half eaten eggroll like a cigar, “You're already living with us, Mama. We just want to be friends forever.”

She scrunches her nose, smoothing the long hair of Laddie’s head in her lap. The boy was tired, their unofficial little brother or not, he was still an eight year old.

“Or maybe,” David starts, dropping down from the rim of the check in counter of the hotel, “Star can just have some fun with them and we don’t even have to do what Max wants.”

The boys all laugh, Dwayne’s shoulders turning inward, while Paul smacks Marko in the chest behind you. Whoever Max was, he was someone that could give the boys orders; something you didnt think possible besides their own little group hierarchy. You'd figured out pretty quickly that David was the leader, Marko was his right hand, Dwayne was the left hand; with Marko enforcing, playful and impulsive, and Dwayne being the level head, logical and the one who often kept the boys from fighting and made them all remember why they loved each other so much. Paul was the baby. Both literally and figuratively. He was the messiest, the most likely to slip up;. He was also the one turned last. So when Star decides to be one of them, she’ll be the new baby. Then Laddie.

“No,” Star affirms, “No, I can’t do that to Michael.”

“Michael,” David tests the name on his lips, tongue darting out to lick them after he says it. The curly haired brunette on the boardwalk had a name. Then his eyes flick to you. There's a sharpness to them that feels so different from Marko’s. David is trying to stare through you, not to look inside of your head, to look past it, to see any weakness. A challenge.

“Who’s Max?” you speak up from your spot on Marko’s lap. You can feel him tense under you, but David smiles.

“You don't know about Max? Marko, you didn’t tell her about Max?”

Marko’s hand wraps around your wrist as David continues.

“Max knows all about you, y/n. There’s a reason you're here.”

Here as in, still alive in a vampire den, or here tonight specifically?

Mind thing? You think, and Marko leans his head down against your shoulder as he nods.

“So he knows Marko and I are X-men? Is he Professor X?”

You hear Dwayne and Paul chuckle from the other side of the circle, and Dwayne mutters, “Yeah something like that,” as he swats his hand at Paul’s mesh-covered chest.

“He sired us,” David clarifies.

“You feel it right?” changing the subject, “You feel like you need to be near Marko?”

Marko squeezes your wrist in encouragement, and you nod.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“That's not what I mean.”

You know what he means. It's the way you feel Marko before you see him, the way you can never sneak up on him.

You nod again.

“That’s what Max wanted to know. Marko, do you wanna tell her, or should I?”

What does he mean? You think and the man below you perks up.

Come with me. His palms grip your hips and gently push you to stand, and he follows suit before taking the lead.

He leads you towards the mouth of the cave, where you enter and away from any listening ears.

“So you know how David is dating Star?” he asks, voice low and close to you in the shadows.

“If that’s what they’re doing,” you joke, and he laughs along with you.

“Well, he thought they had what we have, and that's why she’s with us.” He reaches for your hands to hold them, dropping any playfulness from before.

“I’m supposed to turn you, Max thinks. He’s a lot older than us, and he says some vampires have mates or something similar to that. Others they have some deep mental connection with. The guys… we can hear each other sometimes if we try hard, because we’re a pack. I don't have to try with you and that's why Max thinks it's different.”

Turn you? Like, capital T- Turn you? Into one of them? If he turned you, you’d never see the sun again; never feel its warmth. You’d have to drink blood, and human blood at that. You’d become a killer, and you’d have to keep killing. While you aren’t innocent, killing kind of seems like it would be a stretch for you. Some of their victims had to be innocent, but would your hunger corrupt your morals one day?

It's like he can see the wheels turning in your head, ability to hear your thoughts or not.

“Y/n, you don't have to. Fuck, this was dumb to bring up. David thought you were ready, but if you don't want to I won't make you…” He trails off, visibly a little more deflated.

But if you did, you would be on the same level as Marko. All of the insecurities you have about your relationship would just… stop existing. Your relationship’s expiration date would disappear, your fears about having to leave him or him leaving you would disappear. You'd have people and a place to belong and lover and guaranteed group of friends to be a new family.

“How does it work, Marko?” your voice surprises him, and in honesty, he brought you to the mouth of the cave to give you an out. If you wanted to leave here, leave him specifically, he was going to let you.

“You gotta drink, uh, vampire blood.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You shrug.

“Are you sure? There's no take backs for this,” Marko’s voice is stern, unlike you ever heard it before.

Deadly sure, Marko.

He smiles, slowly like the moon rising in the night before it crescendos into the wide toothy grin you're so used to seeing.

Marko leads you back into the den of the cave where the others are hanging out.

Dwayne is the first to approach the two of you.

“Everything okay?”

You nod thankfully, offering him a smile.

Paul swoops in next.

“You better be tellin’ me you're joining the fam, chica!”

He tries to drape his arm around your shoulder, but Marko pushes him away playfully, both of the boys smiling.

“Let’s get this girl a drink!” Marko shouts, and the guys start up hollering and laughing.

Marko leads you back to where you had originally been sitting, his designated folding chair. He gestures to you to sit down, while he looks to David for something. Over his shoulder, you can see Star frowning as she watches on.

“Glad you got to talk it out,” David remarks as he hands a bottle of wine to Marko. Maybe you’ll be able to get used to his mannerisms in half a century. Marko hands off the bottle of wine to you, and your hands dip with the weight of it.

The wine bottle is bejeweled, another do it yourself project that the guys seem to love so much. It's heavy in your hands, dark and unseeing down the neck of it, but full. Marko crouches down between your legs, palms flat against your thighs as everyone waits with bated breath. You uncork the bottle, noticing the dark red staining on the cork, and knowing exactly what’s in it now. Two shaky hands bring the bottle to your lips, tilting your head back as you let the contents flow into your mouth, filling it. The ‘wine’ is thick, warm and salty but feels like it's already intoxicating you from just being in your mouth.

“That’s all Marko’s blood, you know,” David remarks, and you swallow deeply. All Marko. He drained his blood for you, weakened himself for you. Your eyes flicker to him, and he smiles up at you from his spot between your legs.

You smile back at him, widely, teeth stained with blood.

[tngrace]

Finding My Happy

My dearest Max, happy birthday dude! I hope you have the best day ever and I hope you enjoy this! Thanks for letting me add the missing Judd/TK and missing Tarlos moments from the last episode. I truly hope you enjoy this.

Read on A03.

As always thanks @moviegeek03 for helping me iron out the finer details and the support. It means the world 💙

After their little talk that morning about the news TK received the night before, Judd knows something major is up when TK leaves his father's office with a simultaneously pissed off and kicked puppy look on his face. "TK," he calls out, but TK just brushes past all of them.

Judd sees the questioning looks from the others and just shakes his head at them. "I'll take him," he says heading in the direction TK went.

He finds TK outside pacing the front of the firehouse. "Hey. Take a breath," Judd says, laying a hand on TK's shoulder. TK tries to shrug him off, but Judd just gives his shoulder a squeeze and holds him still. "You wanna go out again? Talk?" He questions when TK won't say anything.

TK looks at him with those sad eyes and a nod, and Judd squeezes his shoulder in response knowing he'd do anything with TK giving him that look. "Gimme five and we'll go," Judd tells him as TK nods again wringing his hands. Just as they're loading up in the truck, questioning looks from the others still firmly in place, the alarm sounds and TK groans.

Judd gives him an apologetic look as TK jumps out to gear up and climb in the back. Once everyone is in, Judd takes off leading them to their call. Owen is giving out the information from dispatch, but TK is a little zoned out. The call is easy, routine, and TK was rather impressed that Pearce was able to save someone. He knows Owen can feel the attitude he's giving off, but he can't help it. His dad's comment hurt more than he wants to admit.

Once back at the station, he grabs a bite to eat before he and Judd try once more to have their conversation. "You gonna tell me what's up? Or am I gonna have to pull it out of ya?" Judd eventually asks as they sit in the firetruck and TK doesn't even attempt to start it. 

"It's just something dad said earlier. It just…." TK trails off, biting at his lip as he hangs his head. 

"TK you can tell me anything," Judd reminds him squeezing his shoulder. Judd hates the kicked puppy look TK seems to have perfected. It makes him hurt for his brother. 

"Dad had me sign papers earlier. Signed his power of attorney over to me. Said he's gonna have that cancer surgery in two weeks, the one I've been bugging him to do." 

"That's great bud. I know you've been on him about it," Judd says knowing that would be a relief for TK. 

"Yea…. Well," TK sighs running his hands through his hair tugging at it. "I asked him why he was finally going to do it. And you know what he said?" 

TK's eyes drop to his lap, his hands twitching and wringing with nervous energy. Before they can go any further, their radios crackle to life with a call. Luckily they're right near the firehouse, and after a quick switch of drivers they're back at the station. Judd so wants to know what Owen said to devastate TK like this, but it's gonna have to wait. TK grabs his gear from Paul, and jumps in the back with the others. He can see TK in the mirror zoning out again as Owen talks. He is determined to get to the bottom of this after this call. 

Upon arrival, the two captains converse with the Travis Co Sheriff's Officer on site as the team hangs back waiting for a game plan. TK can already feel the adrenaline starting to course through his body as Owen details out what they need. "You good?" Judd asks him and TK nods reassuringly even though he can tell Judd doesn't buy it. 

He can't help but overhear the conversation with the new guy as everyone else gathers what Owen requested and Judd keeps tabs on the bomb squad. TK hates that his dad is always putting himself in the most dangerous situations, but he knows he can't do anything about it either because Owen wouldn't listen to him. When he hears the new guy declining to go, he knows he needs to speak up and save two captains from being in danger. 

"I'll go," he says getting looks not only from his team, but also both captains. He can almost see the objections on his dad's tongue, so he continues before Owen can object. "I was a dual-function FD medic in New York. All my certifications are up to date. I can do this," he says almost daring his dad to contradict him. 

Owen just nods and tells him to suit up. Captain Vega prepares the bag he will need while Judd pulls TK to the side to help him suit up. "What the hell are you thinking?" He practically growls at TK. 

"That kid needs saving and it was better than both captains risking their lives," he says, stripping down to his undershirt. Judd straps his chest harness around him as TK puts on his helmet. "I'm fine. You're not gonna lose anyone else," TK says quietly to which Judd just grunts. TK knows he's worried, but TK honestly feels steady. 

Jumping through a minefield had his blood pumping and his adrenaline flowing. He almost forgot what Owen had said earlier as he zoned in on work. The call goes faster than TK expects even though his dad almost got blown up. TK felt steady, felt sure of what he was doing and keeping Wes alive. It felt good to get back to the medic side of calls. Once the bomb squad cleared a path for them, TK helped load the boys into the ambulance. 

Before TK could volunteer to ride along with them, Judd pushed him towards the firetruck. TK knew their conversation was far from over, but having a good call helped refocus him. Once back at the station, Judd pulls TK out to the side yard. "That was fool-headed and stupid," Judd starts, but he pulls TK into a tight hug. "And also badass as hell. You did good," he says, making TK shake him off with a nervous laugh. He's still not good at taking praise for just doing his job. 

"Thanks. It felt… it felt good," he says with a shoulder shrug and bashful smile. 

"We'll get back to this," Judd says as they sink into some chairs. "Wanna tell me what your dad said now?" 

TK sighs as he bites his lip, his eyes dropping. He knew Judd wouldn't forget, and he knew he needed to talk about it. He just wanted to ride the adrenaline high a little longer. "I asked him why he was finally doing the surgery. He said…." TK sighs and Judd can see he's fighting tears. "He said because he's going to be a father," TK gets out quietly not looking at Judd. 

Judd is stunned. He didn't think Owen could be so callous to TK. He has to bite back a growl of anger on TK's behalf. "I mean…. I know he's happy about a new baby, and it's their…. Their second chance to get it right and not screw this one up.... but I just… " 

"TK stop!" Judd says forcefully interrupting TK's self-degradation, reaching for TK's shoulder giving it a squeeze. "You are not a screw up, you hear me?" Judd searches his eyes trying to make sure TK hears him and believes him. "You're not. And I don't give a damn how happy he is about another kid. That doesn't give him the right to ignore and hurt the one he's already got. Just because you're an adult, doesn't make you any less his kid." 

"Thanks Judd," TK says quietly. "Dad's… dad's always just been dad," he shrugs. "He wasn't around much as a kid, and then mom worked, and I just... I figured things out on my own, made some bad decisions, some not so bad…. And I became a firefighter so I could be a part of his family finally." TK hates painting his dad in this bad light, but he's just trying to be honest with someone who's always honest with him. "He's always had a hero complex and when I need saving he's there. And then he finds someone or something else that needs saving, and that's that. I'm used to it, but I dunno. It just…. It hurt this morning ya know?" TK finishes, his eyes dropping back to his folded hands. 

"Of course it did. And you have every right to feel that way, and express how you feel TK." 

TK scoffs as he finally looks at Judd. "He wouldn't listen if I said something. He'd tell me I misheard him or something. Hell he didn't even notice anything after he said it, and I know I don't have that good of a poker face," TK says with a shrug. "But that last call, it felt good. It felt right. It made me forget what he’d said for minute.  I haven't done medical since New York for obvious reasons, but it just…. I don't know it felt really good." 

"TK you were a total badass out there today. If this is something you want you should go for it. I doubt Pearce is gonna last with Tommy. I'd say he's already out the door," Judd says looking back at the firehouse. 

"Yea but…" he trails off with a deep sigh. 

"But what? You've got the qualifications and the experience. You proved yourself today for sure. Tommy would be lucky to have you." 

"But what about us? The team? Dad?" He trails off quietly.

"TK we're still a team, a family. That's not gonna change just because you move over to medical. We're gonna support whatever you want to do because that's what family does. If this is something you want you should go for it." Judd’s quiet for a moment contemplating his next words. He reaches over, squeezing TK's shoulder, making him look at him. "You don't have to do everything exactly like your dad did. You have a family that loves you and supports you, and if he's too stupid to see that, that's on him. You have to do what makes you happy, bud. And if medical is what's gonna do it, then I say go for it." 

TK nods, taking in Judd's words. "Think you could sneak me an application just in case?" TK asks him with a sly grin. 

"Yea… yea of course. Think it over, but you've always got our support," Judd says squeezing TK's shoulder one more time before heading inside. And if he decides to detour by Owen's office to give him a piece of his mind, then TK doesn't have to know. TK sits there for another minute before going to find the rest of the team to see what their thoughts are on this development.

He finds the rest of them in the kitchen. He jumps up on the counter, grabbing some chips to snack on as they hear footsteps coming down the stairs. Pearce has his bag over his shoulder, and says his goodbyes. "And another one bites the dust. Man Vega's got them dropping like flies over there," Paul chuckles. 

"Must be tough," Mateo chimes in. 

Before TK thinks it through he opens his mouth, "She's tough. So is the job. It was… um.. it was pretty exciting though," he says with a grin and a shrug jumping off the counter. 

"You should get his paycheck for this week and yours," Marjan says as Mateo chimes in, "Yea you were a badass out there." 

TK chuckles as he shakes his head at Mateo's enthusiasm. "Thanks guy," he says bashfully. "I uh… I wanted to ask you all something." He notices three sets of eyes fall on him immediately, and he can't help but nervously chew on his bottom lip. "I uh… Judd and I were talking just a bit ago…. And I just… I wanted to see…" 

"Yes," Paul says before TK can even finish, making the other two look at him strange. He gives them a shrug and a smirk having already figured out where TK was going with this. "That's not fair," comes from Marjan, and "Let him finish," from Mateo making Paul and TK both chuckle. 

Paul's unwavering support gave TK the boost he needed to spit it out. "I wanted to see how you all would feel or what you all would think if I applied for Vega's open position. Judd seemed to think it was a good idea, but I don't want to… I don't want to mess this up," he says gesturing between the four of them. 

"Yes," Paul says again as the other two appear to be in shock. TK turns to them biting at his lip as Paul clears his throat and shoots them a look. 

"TK I think you would be amazing at it," Marjan says squeezing his arm. Mateo is the only one not to say anything until Marjan nudges him. "Yea.. You'd be great at it TK. I wasn't kidding when I said you were badass today." 

"Are you sure?" TK asks, getting three nods in return. "Aren't you worried about this changing things?" He asks them gesturing between them once more. 

"No," Paul and Marjan say at the same time. "We're all still a part of the same house. We're all still gonna hang out at Carlos's. We're still family TK. That will never change," Paul finishes getting agreement from the other two. 

"Thanks guys," he says with that bashful grin again. "I wanna talk to Carlos first, but I think I really want this." 

"Vega will be lucky to have you," Marjan says. They all three converge on him for a hug before Paul gets called away and shift ends. When TK grabs his bag, he sees the application Judd must have slipped in there and smiles. He tells his team bye, barely gets goodbye out to his dad, before he's heading towards home, to Carlos's. 

Carlos was just finishing up dinner when he hears the key in the door and his boyfriend walks in. "Hey babe," TK calls, dropping his duffle at the door and kicking his shoes off.

"Don't think you're out of the doghouse," Carlos says trying to be gruff, but he opens his arms to TK for a hug and a kiss. 

"You heard?" TK says cocking his head to the side and scrunching his nose adorably. 

"Did I hear that my boyfriend went jumping through a minefield?" Carlos asks with a contemplative look. "Yes… yes of course I did because the bomb squad couldn't quit talking about it." 

TK pouts and Carlos just finds it too adorable. He gives TK a soft kiss as he squeezes him gently. "Did I also hear that said boyfriend saved two kids' lives and was a total badass about it? Yea I heard that too," he smiles kissing TK's scrunched nose. 

"Who told you that part?" TK asks, adorably confused. 

"Judd sent me a text while they were watching y'all jump through the field. Then he let me know you were fine and had done a stellar job." 

TK gives him a bashful smile finally letting Carlos get back to plating their dinner. "Yea it was pretty cool," TK says, getting two glasses of tea as Carlos brings their food to the table. "I uh… I haven't felt that good on a call in a long time," TK says barely meeting Carlos's eyes. He has the support of his team, but he's still nervous about telling Carlos what he wants. 

"Yea? That had to make for a good day then right?" Carlos asks, picking up on TK's nerves but not pushing him. 

"Mmmm yea," TK says with a nod as he digs into the delicious as always food. "That part of the day was good. The rest…." He trails off with a shrug. 

"Wanna talk about it?" 

"Eh… dad just made some comment that hurt," TK says shrugging it off. 

"TK your feelings are valid no matter what he says, you know that right?" Carlos asks, laying his hand over TK's. He knows TK and Owen have their spells where Owen won't listen and makes TK feel unheard and insignificant. But he wants TK to know it's ok to feel what he feels and to voice those feelings. 

"Judd said the same thing," TK says, finally meeting his eyes. 

"Then maybe you should start believing it," Carlos smiles. 

"Yea… and then the call today. It just…. It got me thinking," TK says pushing his plate away and climbing into Carlos's lap straddling him. He wants the comfort of being close to his boyfriend. 

"Yea? Thinking about what?" Carlos asks, wrapping his arms around TK’s waist. 

"What I really wanna do. Today was so invigorating and I felt really good about it. I felt confident and sure of myself. Something I haven't felt on the job since New York. And I talked it over with Judd and the rest of the crew, and I think…" he trails off biting his lip. Carlos rubs his back and softly kisses his lips to get him to stop biting it. "I think I want to apply to Captain Vega's open paramedic position." 

Carlos gives him a soft smile and softly kisses his forehead. "I think with that big caring amazing heart of yours that you will make an amazing paramedic," Carlos murmurs.

"Yea?" 

"Yes baby. I think you would rock at it." 

TK lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he lights up. "Would you maybe wanna help me type up this resume then?" TK grins toying with the buttons on Carlos's polo. "I mean I can do it, but I'd…" 

Carlos kisses him to interrupt him. "Yes. I will," he grins. 

They finish dinner, and Carlos clears the plates as TK gets his laptop. They type out TK's resume for the paramedic application, and Carlos is honestly impressed. He already knew TK had been on the job straight from high school, but he didn't realize what great scores TK had on his tests or how many commendations of Valor he had already racked up. "Baby this is impressive," Carlos says in awe. 

TK blushes and shrugs him off.  "Captain Vega is going to be lucky to have you," Carlos says kissing TK's forehead. "You said you talked to the team, so what did your dad say?" Carlos asks. He knows TK said Owen had made a hurtful comment and he's trying not to push TK, but he is curious. 

"I haven't told him," TK says with a shrug. Carlos wrinkles his forehead at that, setting the laptop on the coffee table and pulling TK into his lap. 

"I see. Do you wanna tell me what happened?" Carlos asks him softly. TK bites his lip before recounting the conversation with Owen earlier and what Judd told him. TK can feel Carlos's anger, and he runs his hands through Carlos's curls to try and calm him. Carlos takes a couple deep breaths knowing this is about TK, not him. 

"TK, I'm going to agree with Judd on this one. I know sometimes your dad speaks before he thinks, and I don't like how he makes you feel insignificant and unimportant. Because you are the most important person and you deserve to feel how you feel. I get why you don't want to tell him, but he's going to find out and you're gonna have to talk at some point." 

Carlos runs his hand up and down TK's back, "But no matter what, I'm going to support you, and I'm going to love you, and I'm always going to be here no matter what. This is your home too, and you’re my life. I never want you questioning where you belong ever again." 

He reaches up and wipes TK's tears. "I think you're going to make an amazing paramedic, and if you need help coming up with what to say to your dad, then I'm here. Whatever you need," Carlos says as TK dives in for a hard passion filled kiss. 

"I love you too Carlos, so much," TK murmurs as he snuggles his face into Carlos's neck. They eventually make it to bed with TK feeling confident in his choice to apply. He hopes Vega will accept it because now that he's set his mind to it, he really wants it. He knows he's going to have to talk to his dad at some point, but for now he falls asleep in his boyfriend's arms, happy and secure in his choice.