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shihalyfie · 4 years

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Menoa Bellucci, and her relation to Adventure and 02′s antagonists

I mentioned in an earlier meta that Kizuna has a particularly deep relationship to 02 on a thematic level, with a lot of that being because its primary antagonist, Menoa, has heavy parallels to its two main antagonists (the Digimon Kaiser and Oikawa Yukio). I felt like I should make another post talking about Menoa in particular, and how the themes of both Adventure and 02 relate to her.

Do note that naturally, this will contain heavy spoilers for the movie (although I guess I’ve technically already spoiled it in this post’s premise...).

Before we begin, I’m going to start off with...well, look, I don’t really like starting off with what’s probably going to sound like an indictment, but I’m pretty sure so much of the potential audience for this post is going to be thinking about it that I inevitably need to address it. It’s the part where a lot of people have generally accused Menoa of being a rehash of tri.’s Himekawa Maki. Honestly, I don’t blame anyone for jumping to that connection, because of how similar the surface details are -- she’s a young woman who was a Chosen Child, who lost her partner and did morally questionable things as a result. That, and tri. was only a few years ago, so Himekawa is still recent in memory, and it’s logical to think that maybe the most recent work would be pulling from the second most recent work.

...But that’s also exactly where the similarities stop. Beyond that surface level, there’s not much connection on a thematic level. Mainly: after losing her partner, Himekawa’s main goal was to get said partner back, even if it meant dismantling the same Digital World she’d been originally meant to protect -- she was willing to destroy everything for the sake of that goal (i.e. she was knowingly acting selfishly). Not only that, she’s not even the primary antagonist, because the whole thing ties into her being used as a pawn by Yggdrasil -- so we’re not even sure how much agency she had in this entire arrangement. Meanwhile, Menoa’s motives were definitely very based on her desire to get said partner back, but the whole point was that she thought it was impossible -- she’d certainly tried, but because nothing was bearing fruit, she determined that the only thing she could do would be to prevent everyone else from going through the same thing. So in other words, she was convinced her actions were actually selfless, and her failure in getting her partner back was what motivated her -- all based on her own personal choices and motivations, directed entirely by her. Other than the backstory part being somewhat similar, the way they react to it is completely different.

If Menoa is meant to be relevant to Himekawa, then that can only really be said in the sense that Menoa is a response to and deconstruction of the plot point Himekawa introduced. This is especially because part of Kizuna’s creation involved being a direct response to tri.’s inadequate portrayal of Digimon partnerships, which, unfortunately, Himekawa is...kind of a major symptom of -- we’re never given any serious depiction on what emotional connection Himekawa and her partner had, we’re only supposed to glean this by projecting the old Adventure/02 definition and depiction of partnerships, and everything else we learn about Himekawa’s desperation is after the fact. And...well, I’ll be honest, it’s still kind of hard to even rationalize how Himekawa’s “character arc” makes much sense (especially the part where we’re supposed to figure out how she apparently studied the reboot since university but had no contingency plan for Bakumon not remembering her, to the point where this apparently drove her completely insane...?). So as a result, she’s just killed off unceremoniously, because there’s no real natural conclusion to this arc, nor any underlying logic as to what relationship Himekawa and Bakumon supposedly had.

So it is true that Menoa starts off with a similar base concept, but because Kizuna is dedicated to “defining what it means to have a partner”, it takes a proper step-by-step approach: firstly, what did Morphomon actually mean to Menoa? We’re given tons and tons of depictions of how Morphomon was integrated into her daily life, and was her closest confidant for years. What exactly does it mean to lose a partner? The depictions and descriptions in Kizuna don’t hold back at all; Menoa even says that it feels “like a part of your body has been ripped away”. What is a Digimon partner in the first place, and what does it mean to have one or to not have one? In line with Adventure/02′s portrayal of Digimon partners, a Digimon is portrayed as a part of the inner self whose presence or absence depends on the human’s state of mind, which means that getting a partner back also depends on said human -- and thus, even Menoa is provided an opportunity for salvation at the end, because everyone has the potential to grow again. In that sense, it’s hard to really call Menoa a parallel or a rehash, when, if anything, it’s more like she’s taking that concept and readjusting it to what it should have been more like when under the original Adventure/02 concept of partnerships.

Anyway...

Back to Adventure and 02. On its face, Kizuna does seem to have more pertinence to 02 than it does Adventure when it comes to themes -- after all, Kizuna styles itself as something that’s supposed to be relatable and personal to the modern millennial adult, meaning that it focuses moreso on human drama and introspection more so than it does Digital World and Digimon mechanics. In doing so, it was probably inevitable that it aligns itself more with 02 (which was significantly more about human drama and interpersonal relationships than it was Adventure’s Digital World and Digimon lore) by default.

Still, there is a lot of pertinence in the sense that Adventure was always intended to be “a story of humanity’s evolution” -- recalling that the 02 epilogue was actually the originally intended ending for Adventure, and the result of “everyone in the world having a Digimon partner” being the “evolution” of humanity by having a visible form of their own soul -- and thus, the core of each enemy in Adventure was tied to it in some form. This is made especially clear in the third Adventure novel:

At the beginning of the world, when the Digital world was still in chaos, the Digital world chose the idea of “evolution.” By deciding that this process would involve the Digital world itself “evolving,” it created Homeostasis for that necessity...

...Apocalymon must have sent its thoughts through the “Wall of Fire” into the Digital world. It planted the idea into the Dark Masters’ minds to unconsciously reject “evolution.” The Dark Masters’ plan would permanently destroy the function of the Village of Beginnings. It was possible that, to the very end, they had been unaware of it. In other words, the construction of Spiral Mountain took “evolution” away from the Digital World.

When the kids finally meet Apocalymon in the penultimate episode of Adventure, he has the following complaints:

Apocalymon: We are the Digimon who have disappeared through the evolution process...The resultant build-up of thoughts that have cursed our sad and hateful fates! Sora: You were created from the dark hearts of the Digimon who disappeared? Apocalymon: Dear Chosen Children and your dear Digimon. We have been looking forward to meeting all of you. ... Apocalymon: Listen. While we lay buried under a deep darkness of utter coldness and sorrow, you were on the other side, enjoying yourselves and laughing happily in the warm light. WHY?! ... Apocalymon: What have we done to deserve this?! (tears at self) Why must we weep tears of grief while you enjoy cheerful laughter? Mimi: No, I don't want to see this! Apocalymon: We, too, have tears that flow from our eyes and feelings that flow from our hearts. Just who decided that we were to be deprived of this world and consigned to oblivion?! We wanted to live! We wanted to live and speak of friendship, justice, and love! We wanted to use this body to be helpful to this world! Are you saying that this world has no need for us? That we are meaningless?! ... Apocalymon: Then we shall rule this world! We shall make this place belong to us. All who get in our way will die! (laughs) May the light be forever cursed where it shines!

(Translation by Ryuu-Rogue.)

So, basically, Apocalymon is a “Legion” sort of Digimon, made up of the condensed regrets of Digimon who were unable to evolve, and lived so much in despair that they decided they would drag everyone else down with them, and reform the world into their own. So in other words, his main goal to “inhibit evolution” was in the sense of inhibiting the Digital World’s own evolution and development, while it was growing alongside the human world -- all of this villainous “destroying the world” and “taking over the world” is all tied to a root of “inhibiting evolution”. And this was all intended to be tied into 02 as well, along with even the theoretical third Adventure series that never happened -- an ongoing fight for humanity and the Digital World’s right to continue “evolving” against forces that were trying to block it.

How does this relate to Menoa?

“Evolution” in the context of Adventure and 02 has a lot of meanings, and of course one of the most prominent ones is in terms of the metaphor of “evolution = human growth and potential”. Kizuna brings it to the forefront in terms of explicitly saying that Digimon growth is tied to human potential, but that’s always been there from the beginning -- especially considering how high-level evolution is powered by human virtues, like Crests.

But by trapping everyone in Neverland, Menoa is keeping people from “evolving” -- not just the Digimon from evolving, but humans from gaining any growth or potential, because they’ll be fixated in their childhood memories forever. The namesake of Neverland, the original Peter Pan, was very much about how staying a child forever would involve always being immature -- Peter was not a heroic figure in the end, as he was someone who was ultimately callous and irresponsible, at times even self-serving. No one will grow as people. Everyone will stay locked in the same mentality forever. The Digimon will never evolve. Robbed of Chosen Children to help protect the world, both the human world and Digital World will be left defenseless, and perhaps even be destroyed -- and that would be the end of “evolution” for all.

All because of Menoa’s own grief and projection.

Moving back to 02, this is of course where the parallels start getting really explicit. As I mentioned earlier, Menoa is effectively a combination of 02′s two most prominent antagonists -- the Digimon Kaiser, Ichijouji Ken, who was pressured into being recognized as a “genius” by society and lost a grip on his true self as a result, and Oikawa Yukio, who was cut off from the Digital World in childhood and spent his adulthood trying to grasp at shallow symbols of his past, projecting on others in the process.

Actually, let’s go over these characters in their stages of antagonism!

The Digimon Kaiser:

Was recognized by society as a “genius” and paraded around for those abilities; mentioned to be intelligent enough to skip grades into university (was only prevented from doing so like Menoa did because he lived in Japan, which didn’t have a system for this)

Tried to smash out the aspects of himself that didn’t fit the image he was aiming for, throwing away the “kindness” in his heart under the idea it was “weakness”, trying to become “better than others”

Started pushing away his own Digimon partner in the process, symbolizing a rejection of his own inner self

Ultimately, never got to have a proper childhood of having the freedom to do “meaningless things”, because he and his brother Osamu were “demanded to grow up fast”

Young Menoa:

Was recognized by society as a “genius” to the point she felt isolated from her peers, to the point she decided to skip grades into university because she felt like it would get her recognition and allow her to be productive to society

Stopped engaging in childhood hobbies (e.g. the swing she used to play with Morphomon at) and is implied to have pushed others away in her bid to be independent

Wasn’t even talking to Morphomon much anymore by the time of their separation, because she’d prioritized her studies in order to skip grades

Ultimately turned herself into an “adult” at the age of 14, far too young for anyone to become an adult

The surface details are a little different -- because Ken’s troubles manifested in a way that made him more “consciously reject” Wormmon rather than outright neglect him, and because his reaction to being “demanded to grow up fast” ultimately involved him trying to ditch everything into the Digital World instead of trying to become more mature, he was spared from the fate of having an outright partnership dissolution with Wormmon at the tender age of eleven. (Although he did still have a pretty traumatizing “loss” of Wormmon, so it’s not like he got off scot-free -- especially when getting said partner back involved a necessary epiphany about choosing to face what he did and moving forward with the consequences, something Menoa did not do during the events of the movie.) Either way, though, he managed to snap himself out of it and prevent himself from taking the same path Menoa did -- especially since the two of them are based off the same real-life origin story, the 9-year-old American boy whom Seki Hiromi read about in a newspaper, who skipped grades into Columbia University, causing her to conclude that he’d be unable to make friends his age.

Since Menoa ends up taking a different path and going “all the way”, once Morphomon is taken from her, she veers onto a path very similar to Oikawa’s.

Oikawa Yukio:

Was torn away from contact with the Digital World (and his future partner) by a well-meaning Hida Chikara, worried about him and Hiroki getting into “foolish talk”

Was isolated from the only friend he could relate to (via Hida Hiroki’s death)

Tried to make his own Digimon, implied to at least partially be inspired by trying to fill the void (see 02 episode 47), but only manages to create minions who do his bidding

Kidnapped a bunch of children under the premise that he was just giving them what they wanted; implanted Dark Seeds into them that on the surface gave them what they wanted but actually ate at their feelings

Blamed the fact he was a “tainted adult” for his inability to go to the Digital World without more forcible methods

Menoa:

Lost her partner after discarding her childhood hobbies in order to fit society’s standard of adulthood

Developed an obsession with becoming “independent”; ended up likely having no friends to connect with (states during the climax in Neverland that nobody understands how she feels)

Tried to use “scientific” computer methods to bring back her partner, but only managed to get hordes of soulless husks to do her bidding

Kidnapped a bunch of people (eventually including literal children) under the premise that she would be saving everyone; forced them to experience eternal loops of their childhood memories that prevented them from moving forward

Blamed the fact she’d “made that choice” and become an adult for her loss of her partner

Oikawa didn’t “lose” his partner in the sense of something permanent-sounding like Morphomon, but in terms of thematic parallels, Menoa basically ends up throwing herself into his path after continuing in the direction Ken ultimately chose to tear himself away from.

Ultimately, there are still differences in execution and life circumstances between all three characters -- and that’s how it ought to be, given that it would be inappropriate for Kizuna to be a complete rehash of 02. But considering that 02 was heavily built on the themes of “not drowning in regret and learning to move forward” and “embracing the inner child and not caving to societal expectations”, it makes sense that Kizuna, which is built on “not drowning in nostalgia and learning to face the future” and “not losing touch with childhood memories and experiences nor the childish self to the pressures of becoming an adult”, the parallels between the main antagonists driving the story are going to be very similar.

Although, given the events of Kizuna and how they played out...one wonders if Ken has any idea how lucky he is...

#digimon #digimon adventure #digimon adventure 02 #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #menoa bellucci #tri negativity

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dragon-snoots-a-boopin · 3 years

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Well it seems that Ghostbusters Afterlife is causing controversary just by existing and it is the same stuff that happened when the trailer for this movie first came on to the scene. The title of this article I found on Paste Magazine’s website says it all. The title of this article is “We Should Have Cherished The 2016 Ghostbusters When We Had The Chance”. Yeah, you can see where this is going and I am going to cherry pick my favorite bits from the article and will link it so you can read this for yourself.

“The second will be that although that is very much true, there will soon be a short-term tonic. That tonic arrives on July 15, and it’s the new Ghostbusters movie. On that day and any day after, buy your tickets, sit down, and cherish every second. Cherish the expertly assembled ensemble of hilarious people making every sequence a riot; cherish the bonkers new take on spirits, specters, and ghouls that need busting; cherish the titan that is Kate McKinnon stealing every scene and getting her own slo-mo action sequence; and cherish the fact that this is a reboot/remake/whatever that means to respect what came before, but remains 100 percent confident in its new vision. Cherish every fleeting moment, because while it may not be perfect or the new take on the series you were expecting, I was telling the truth when I said what’s coming would be much, much worse.”

This is like the first part of the article and I just can’t help but laugh my ass off at this. I mean, it really sets the tone for what the article is going to be about.

“The necessity for Terminator-style time travel stems from the fact that when the movie from director Paul Feig and starring Kristen Wiig, Melissa McCarthy, Leslie Jones, and McKinnon dropped over five years ago, we didn’t give ourselves a chance to bask in its comedic brilliance.”

I am sorry but did this guy say comedic brilliance??? Yes, you had four comedians which should have helped the 2016 Ghostbusters movie but there was actually no direction given to the actors. No, no, wait, that’s not true. They were given direction and the only direction they were given is make it up as they go and just riff off of each other. oh, what’s the word for that, I can’t seem to think of the word...oh well you know what I mean. That’s what led to the most of the dialogue in the 2016 Ghostbusters was terrible because of the lack of actual direction from the director.

“by “controversy”, I mean big babies taking to social media. Said babies made the first trailer the most “disliked” film trailer in YouTube history, and in turn made every conversation about the movie have to share space with sexism aimed at the cast, racism aimed at Jones, and general rage that this reboot simply didn’t look like the new movie they wanted.”

Now, there is something I agree with here and that’s the fact that all the sexism and racism the cast got is terrible is people really shouldn’t do that. Assuming that, before Ghostbusters 2016 released, the movie was going to flop “because woman” is just wrong. But, on the flip side, the writer of this article is basically doing this to people like Ghostbusters Afterlife MORE than Ghostbuster 2016 by calling them big babies or man babies etc. so, our writer here isn’t setting the kind of example they want people to have.

“In essence, any praise (or valid criticism) was drowned out by children who opened a box on Christmas, and saw that the toy they got wasn’t the exact one they wanted, and proceeded to pout a la Verruca Salt. And a big chunk of this was all before the movie even came out.”

And this is exactly what I was just saying. The writer is calling Ghostbuster fans a bunch of children and comparing the reveal of Ghostbusters 2016 to opening and box on Christmas and seeing something they got that they didn’t want. Now they also say that most of this happened before the movie release and to be honest, it was mostly the sexist and racist stuff that dominated before the movie released. AFTER the movie released is when people set that aside and said that Ghostbusters 2016 is actually an awful, not funny movie and here is the proof that is IN the movie.

“Had we as a society had the opportunity to have a normal discourse about the movie, and have the foresight to see what was coming after the success of Star Wars: The Force Awakens the previous December, people maybe would have better embraced how Feig, co-writer Katie Dippold and the cast delivered the best possible version of a reboot of a beloved franchise.”

Okay, why the fuck are you bringing The Force Awakens into an article about Ghostbusters??? Why the fuck are you trying to COMPARE Ghostbusters 2016 to The Force Awakens??? Also, did you actually watch Ghostbuster 2016? It’s not the best possible reboot of this franchise and I am not even a fan of Ghostbusters, I just like watching them. But seriously, there is no comparison between Ghostbusters 2016 and The Force Awakens.

Here is the link to the article if you want to read it: https://www.pastemagazine.com/comedy/ghostbusters/ghostbusters-afterlife-lazy-nostalgia/

I am going to continue this in a second post.

#rant #movies #ghostbusters #ghostbusters 2016 #ghostbuster afterlife #paste magazine

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fizzingwizard · 4 years

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Digimon Adventure: Ep 19!

Wow! That certainly was an Episode!! It was pretty fun from start to finish, though nothing mind-blowing, but it was definitely the ending that made me gasp. Not wholly unexpected to an old turnip like me, but promising lots of fun (and angst!).

Picture of the week: MIKO, THE TRUE STAR OF THE SERIES!!

no for serious are the writers reading my reviews? they keep giving me what I want. within reason I guess. They seem to have an extremely limited budget as usual x’D

but Miko is still adorbs

ok I’m really looking forward to recapping this one so let’s get to it!

So last week I thought the kids sans Taichi and Yamato were abducted by Devimon, but apparently that either isn’t the case, or it was, but then Devimon decided it’s best just to dump the kids back on Earth and hold on to their partners. Because that’s the current situation. While concerning that the kids are separated from their partners, it’s probably best this way, since Devimon appears to be sending Gesomon(?) and Parrotmon(?)

to the human world, if I remember right. It’s hard to remember what happened in the first fifteen seconds kay So when the kids find their partners it will probably be in the human world and they can fight back.

Meanwhile Taichi and Yamato are alone and very Confuse

Taichi tries frantically to contact Koushirou. The others too... but especially Koushirou.

Finally he gets him!! He’s so happy!! My Taishiro heart flutters!

But I was fully expecting it to be a trap. When I saw this still here, my first thought was “Devimon’s forcing him to tell Taichi a lie by threatening him with a gun!!”

of course thats not whats happening. Koushirou is relatively fine and there are no guns (yet). What’s happened is the other kids have been sent back to the human world for reals this time!

This show is not even bothering to hide its Taiyama angle.

They spend the entire episode giving each other Significant Looks like this. The entire episode.

Now where’s Jou through all of this, you ask?

He went to talk to the police. He’s shocked they don’t believe his story about monster attacks and the world ending (well, at least Tokyo ending). I freaking love how taaaaall Jou is. Though it makes Koushirou look like a bean x’D

Jou = beansprout / Koushirou = bean

Koushirou has a much easier time dealing with the news that the police don’t believe them. He’s a denizen of the Internet. He knows how people’s minds work. And he has tons of chat logs to prove it.

People are chatting and spreading gossip and disbelief and complaints, but my favorite is the comment that just says “It’s a flood of fake news” xP

The home team runs into Mama Yagami! Who Sora literally calls Mama Yagami! x’D I mean I know that’s how kids generally refer to their friends’ parents but I still lol’d.

So un... Jou is almost as tall as Mama Yagami. LMAO. I’m gonna assume she’s short. Jou might indeed be quite tall for his age but Sora and Mimi are pretty close to Mama Yagami’s height too. I guess we haven’t seen Taichi standing next to his mom yet! With his hair he’s probably taller than her.

So Mama Yagami is HILARIOUS and I’m so glad that’s a continuing thing in the reboot! She was already that way in 99 Adventure, but we’re just seeing a lot of it now - like every time she’s around. (And we didn’t see it in Tri so I missed that.) Basically she seems like a basketcase. Not a totally irresponsible one, more like just... generally the carefree go with the flow type. Which is not bad. She just also seems a bit, uh, ditzy?? I think Taichi probably grew to be so serious by necessity. Dad’s busy with work and someone’s gotta make sure mom doesn’t leave the house without her keys!

The way Sora just stares at Hikari like “explain??” after Mama Yagami thrusts Miko at her and runs off to get her car with a big smile as if they hadn’t all nearly died recently... bahahaha.

also I love how she doesn’t even bother asking her son’s good friend if she knows where he is after not seeing or hearing from him for three full days

^The face of a boy shouldering the weight of nuclear family life and all its batshitness

Taichi and Yamato determine their priority is find the Holy Digimon. I wish they were a little more concerned with what happened to their friends’ partners, but I guess this is the only goal with solid clues. Anyway before they can do anything they are attacked by Bulbmon Looks like subtitlers went with Valvemon which also works, who looks like a Lego monster creation by an eight year old (and probably is).

He has the Domo face. Grrraaah

Domo is NHK mascot by the way. bahahaha

Next these guys come swarming out of Valvemon. (And if we didn’t already get it, apparently Digimon can construct other Digimon as we’ve seen before.) Nothing is quite as freaky as gas masks. They are commanded by Minotaurmon/Mintaromon whatever.

They too have the aim of Stormtroopers though so our heroes will be fine...

... probably...

... then Leomon finally shows up!! Yay! He looks good! All beefy and scarred and sounding exactly like Zaraki Kenpachi. Uhh. Is it the same VA?? Nothing comes up in the Google search so maybe not but it sure sounds like him. (Minotaurmon and Ogremon also sound like Leomon... while it’s normal for VAs in kids shows to voice multiple characters esp minor ones, it literally sounds like Zaraki Kenpachi is the voice of all the characters in this episode besides the main ones. And Mama Yagami of course because that would be weird.)

Leomon may look cool, but his ride... and his friends... uh, less cool x’D I want to strangle that ostrich thing with its own scarf somehow it inspires violent emotion in me

In the smallest, most shocked voice, Yamato says, “Leomon...?” It’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s clearly remembering what Neemon said about Leomon leading the resistance way back when.

Leomon helps them escape. Taichi very considerately and cutely helps Agumon aboard the fashion disaster ostrich emu thing.

Yamato also considerately helps his partner but rather less cutely xD

Leomon takes them to his hideout and gives them your standard fare of weird-looking Digi fruit. He then proceeds to tell them about Devimon and that he is trying to infiltrate Valvemon yadda yadda.

Taichi is freaking ADORABLE, immediately concerned that by saving their asses, Leomon’s battle plans have been ruined. Leomon waves that aside though. Yamato is equally adorabibble when he asks after Neemon and gets told that they made it to Leomon safely.

Leomon plans to try to get into Valvemon again because he knows Devimon’s put something related to the holy Digimon in there. Taichi is determined to join in. He doesn’t have much of an argument as it why they should be allowed when they just got their butts kicked so easily, but he has a trick up his sleeve: the Burning Eyes of Fiery Passion.

Not to be outdone, Yamato shoots off his Icy Eyes of Cold Determination.

Faced with this twin assault, Leomon has to give in. Ahh, I remember last week when we saw the trailer for this ep and I naively thought Leomon would train them like Piximon did in 99 Adventure. Nope. They’ve just met and they’re already spy buddies.

Okay, okay, yeah Leomon does seem to have some knowledge of the “Chosen Children” and that’s his real motivation. Still.

They break into Valvemon and we get the excellent invention of Agumon riding on Garurumon. I assume because of Garurumon’s advantageous speed. That seems to be recurring thing in this show.

Idk I just capped this because he’s so darn cute

I don’t know why I capped this one though.

They enter some sort of central space where Leomon tells them something relevant to the holy Digimon is being kept. (Lol I already forgot the details of what he said.) There are two protectors, Minotaurmon and Bullmon. Leomon tells the kids to take Bullmon while he faces down Minotaurmon. These guys might have been somewhat intimidating if we hadn’t already got Perfect level evolutions mastered, not to mention the occasional Jogress :P Sooo I didn’t feel too worried.

... uh, never mind x’D Taichi what are you doing

Yamato saves his idiot butt and almost gets in a bind himself. Once again I’m just wondering why they are sticking at Adult level. Whatever. They win of course

Leomon uses his Fist of the Beast King to maim Minotaurmon. His brilliant one-liner? “I have more than one first.”

Bully: *punches you*

You: ow

Bully: *smirk* I have more than one fist.

You: That’s funny, I only have one, but it’s made of titanium *You punch the bully straight through the stratosphere* Quality over quantity!!!!

*cough*

Our heroes approach the secret compartment supposedly holding something to do with the holy Digimon... Yamato gets a look inside and gets the black shadow of true terror over his eyes

becaue floating inside like some kind of Weapon X experiment is... Takeru!!!

Hold on while I put in my ear plugs. Okay, ready, screech all you want now.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!

So... okay. First of all, baby Takeru is sooooooo cute <3 I had two predictions about what happened to Takeru last week. Either he ended up in the digital world and was now on his own, or he got abducted by Devimon. I thought the former was more likely, but in hindsight, it should have been obvious that it was the second. This show misses a lot of points where I feel like they could have developed some relationships or thrown in some drama, but it never passes up a chance for Yamato angst.

So yeah, this is pretty much gonna destroy Yamato xD Not only is the baby brother he wanted to protect no longer at home where he can easily protect him, he’s now in the digital world and in the enemy’s clutches.

I BETTER SEE REALLY TRAUMATIZED YAMATO NEXT WEEK. Of course, I expect him to be cool-headed enough to try to save Takeru, but I will be very disappoint if this goes off with no break downs at all. Takeru is always Yamato’s number one priority!

Super exciteddddd

So I give this ep 7.5/10. The .5 is pretty much for ending with a killer cliffhanger. My one real complaint about this ep is how highly plot-based everything is - we finally got the team all together only to split them up, and on top of that, once split up, we don’t even get all that many character moments between Taichi and Yamato. As I said, they give each other lots of Signifcant Looks, but man cannot live on bread alone. However this is par for the course for this show and I know I should stop mentioning it every week because I doubt it’s changing. We will get the big shockers when we get them and not a moment before.

I just want Yamato to cry in front of Taichi and make him all uncomfortable x’D That’s what made 99 Adventure so great bahahaha

Some cool bits from next week’s trailer:

Surprise surprise, Angemon is the holy Digimon! Or one of, anyway. And he is indeed trapped. This makes the “Angemon is Devimon” theory less likely. Let’s not forget that our heroes’ Digimon partners were evidently a band of powerful warriors in the past, but they’ve forgotten much of it. I won’t be surprised if the result of that war played a part in Angemon’s abduction.

Next week they’ll have to fight to save Takeru from being drained, I guess.

And then!! Digi egg! Excite. Also I only just noticed that his hate says TK!!!

Takeruuu <3 My first fav when I was 10. Though my heart has belonged to Taichi for many long years, I still have a special spot in it for Takeru only <3 Even if he does dress like a celery stick

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure reboot #digi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020 #i made edits lets see if they save for once...

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robbyrobinson · 4 years

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If you were to ask me whether I’d choose to watch episode 24 of Gou or to have a mad case of diarrhea due to eating one of those sandwiches at Arby’s, I’d probably choose the latter.

Just...there is nothing really salvageable from the season finale for Gou now that it is made clear that there will be an additional season come July. It just feels...empty like why did I dedicate a few months to watching the anime for it to end on a sour note?

There’s just not much to gain here. The episode basically confirms a lot of what we already know: we see Takano having a “nightmare” of her killing herself once she was defeated even though that doesn’t really make much sense. I will commend the show for at least better properly depicting the nurse as more sympathetic: that was kind of the issue that I had with Kai. It just poorly adapts Takano’s origin story to where it’s hard to truly feel bad for her even when knowing she had a horrible childhood. I mean that came right smack after the episode where she kills everyone execution style and disembowels a little girl; there’s just no coming back from that. So, props to the show for making me care a little bit.

We get some insights into the conspiracy Takano was behind, so we do see now what made her deflect. And of course, we get to know the obvious: Satoko was the one who stole a sample of H173 to inject people with it (dun, dun, duuuunnnn!!!). And we end the episode with Takano giving up her goals of becoming god and Satoko taking the mantle calling herself the new Oyashiro-sama. Even though that doesn’t make much sense because when she was performing the Watanashi ritual and gutting Rika, she claimed to be the new shrine maiden of the godlike being Not Hanyuu and Totally Not Featherine. So was it that she was referring to herself in that moment? And of course as the new god, Satoko intends on using the new curse to break Rika. Fuck this bitch.

Out of everything; the false advertising this as a remake/reboot when it was really a sequel to the OG show, to Satoko and Rika’s character derailment, and the thin line of whether this should be taken as canon due to the obvious ties it has with Umineko, the show ends up validating many a fans’ concerns as to the necessity of this continuation. It at first didn’t appear to know what it wanted to be: a straight retelling of the events of the original question arcs, or if it’s trying to not just tell the same tales beat to beat, but also add on more twists and plot holes. You cannot have your cake and eat it too.

But what is the most irritating bit of this is that in the end...really, nothing mattered.

#higurashi: when they cry #higurashi when they cry gou #higurashi: when they cry gou #satoko houjo #satoko hojo #hojo #houjo #satoko #hojo satoko #rika #miyo takano #takano miyo

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calmgotmelike · 4 years

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Hey guys! So this is something I wrote awhile ago and idk if y’all will like it but wanted to post it 😊 let me know what you think and/or if I should write more. If you have any questions about horse stuff feel free to message me! The cover page has all the horses on it! I’ll reboot with the order of which horse is which.

5sos x horses; Luke Hemmings x Nicole

Chapter 1

The trailer door swung open and a beautiful chestnut warmblood backed out with his head held high and his tail brushing against his legs,as he swishes it back and forth. His name was etched on the silver plate attached to the cheek piece of his orange halter. The scripture was neat and straight, etched in all capital letters "CRASH" centered in the middle of the plate. Crash was a heck of a horse, strong and trained to the t. He excelled in everything he did. He won almost all the Jumper shows he entered and excelled in dressage. Crash was sent to my farm as a retirement home, even though he's only about 6. His owner decided that he should retire from the show life and just be a normal horse so I bought him to teach people how to jump and use him as a beginner level show horse. I took Crash from the trailer hand and led him into the barn.

The barn had about 12 stalls with an attached indoor riding arena at the end. There were 6 sets of cross ties in the isle between the stalls. There was a room 5 stalls deep on the left that was filled with saddles,halters,leads,bridles, and everything the horses needed along with their food.All the stalls led out to long stretched out paddocks, leaving the horses plenty of room to run and graze. All the horses were outside in their pastures when we entered the barn and I brought Crash into the 4the stall on the left. I released the lead from the place it was clipped on his halter, letting him loose in his stall. He instantly gulped up some water and moved to his hay with a wag of his tail. After waving off the trailer hand, i climbed up into the hay loft and pushed down 8 bales of hay, landing them right outside the front door of the barn.

"Oy,Nicole! You almost crushed us there sweetheart." a thick Australian accent called from below. I smiled as i climbed down the ladder faced with 4 boys covered in hay. "Sorry guys!" I giggle as i grab each hay bail and quickly stack them in a 4X4 pile. "Haven't brought the horses in yet?" A voice asked form behind me. I turn around to face him. He is tall, about 6'3", with bright blue eyes and blonde hair that was styled up into a quiff. "The new horse came just a few minutes ago,Lucas.I haven't had time." I smiled at him as i walked up to him and quickly kissed him on the lips. If you couldn't tell the blonde,tall boy is my boyfriend Luke. With him he brought his friends Ashton,Calum,and Michael. Ashton is tall but the shortest of the boys. he has curly brown hair with emerald green eyes and is always smiling. He wore a ripped up muscle tee and black skinny jean identical to the rest of the boys. Calum has black hair with a blond streak in his bangs that is swept off to the side just over his chocolate brown . Michael has a different hair color every time i see him, but today it was red and styled in a messy wind swept look hiding a little bit of his jade eyes from view.

"Do you guys wanna help me get them in?" i asked as i ran down to the end of the barn entering the stalls and clipping the doors to the paddocks open and sliding the stall doors closed behind me. Ashton and Calum did the same as I saw Luke and Michael struggling to open a hay bail. "Um,Nicole do you have like a knife or something?" Michael yells to me as i meet Calum and Ashton by the tack room, all the stalls ready for the horses. "You don't need one,Mike." i say as i walk over to them and take the baling twine and popping it off the hay. "Your girlfriends got some muscle, Luke" Michael nudges Luke in the arm as he watches me break open 4 more bales of hay. "It's because I've been opening hay bales for you for like 3 years." i turn around and look at Michael who is shocked for being called out on not be able to do it. The rest of the boys start laughing at Michaels lack of words and soon he joins in realizing i

was joking.Partially. The 4 boys helped me get hay in all the stall, Luke tossing a broken up bale over his shoulder and walking to the end of the barn, throwing 2 flakes in each stall until he ran out.

As soon as the hay was in all the stalls, Calum turns to me and asks "can i do it this time?" I laugh as I nod my head and grab onto Luke's arm as he comes up next to me. Calum put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loud and long and there was a moment of silence throughout the barn then there was the sound of thundering hooves. All the horses came running in as we stood at the beginning of the barn and watched as the horses started to nibble on their hay. In the stall to our left was Cam, a big chestnut suffolk punch. His coat glistened from the sunlight peeking in through the door behind him, making him look as if he was sparkling. On the Right side was Joe, a big black percheron with a huge head and body. His mane was perfectly straight and flopped to one side as he ate his hay. Beside Cam was my favorite horse, Baelfire. He is a beautiful bay Arabian with a beautiful white blaze going down his forehead and ending at the end of his nose.

Across from Baelfire was Jade. I have had Jade since she was a foal.I rescued her form an animal shelter after her mother passed away and needed constant care. There was about a month where i was sleeping in the barn with her ,feeding her bottles every 3 hours. Now she was one of the best horses I've ever trained. Even though she is about 7 years old, she is trained to understand my vocal commands and i use her all the time to teach the barn kids how to ride. She is a beautiful white Warmblood mare and is one of the most beautiful horses I've ever seen. Next to Baelfire was Luke's horse, Coal. We had gotten him about a year and a half ago as a 5 year old and Luke instantly fell in love with him. Horses then turned into a passion for both of us. Luke worked hard with Coal to make him the excellent horse that he is today. Coal is absolutely spoiled too. Luke always sneaks down and gives him ��twizzlers and candy, which Coal loves and can now smell on anyone, even in your breath. Across from Coal is a horse named Klaus who is the biggest horse in the barn. He is a beautiful black and white shire with with fluffy white feathering on his jet black legs. He has a straight blaze running down the length of his face and ending right above his nose. Despite his big body, he's the sweetest horse and everyone who meets him instantly falls in love with him. Next to Klaus is Crash the warmblood that I received this morning. He was settling in nicely as he munched on his hay looking up and down the aisle at the horses around him. Across from Crash is Beck. Beck is a solid colored golden paint with a flaxen mane.Beck is sort of the barn stud. He always has the 2 barn mares around him and he is always very possessive over them. The other horses let him think he's the boss but when he steps out of line the horses put him right back in his place.

Next to Beck is an empty stall at the moment. Across from the empty stall is the tack room filled with saddles and bridles,along with brushes,first aid supplies, and a bunch of other horse necessities. Next to the tack room is a chestnut warmblood gelding named King. He is the old guy on the farm at the age of 24,which is just a number to him. King loves to run and he loves to act like a 2 year old and run around the paddocks with the young guns of the barn. We never count King out because of his age. His age just makes him more experienced. Across from King is the other barn mare Aussie who is an Australian Stock horse. She is a beautiful dark bay with light points and legs. Aussie is a great trail horse and has received many ribbons in reining and barrel racing. I still take her to shows every once in a while but here new favorite thing to do is to go swimming in the lake down one of the trails. Next to Aussie is one of my favorite horses, Dino. Dino is an 18 hand giant Warmblood and is ever pound of 2,000lbs. Dino is a dark bay with light dapples on his rear and white socks on his two front legs. Across from Dino is a small Paint named Mason who is very vibrant red paint with one brown eye and one blue eye. Mason is The youngest horse that i have at just about 3 years old. He is ridable, but is very green and needs a lot of help. Every one of these horses holds a special place in my heart and they are all family to Luke and I.

"So you guys ready to go now?" I ask as I enter the tack room walking down the line of bridles hooked to the wall and grabbing the black leather bridle with a snaffle bit on it and a silver tag on the brow band reading "Baelfire". I then grab my saddle from the saddle rack to the left of all the bridles, along with a saddle pad and girth. "Ash here has never ridden a horse, Nicole" Michael says as he grabs Ashton's shoulders and pushes him a little. " He can ride Jade! Where did Luke go, he can help" I ask Michael as Luke is no where to be found. As if on queue, Luke comes out of one of the stalls and starts walking towards us. "Well i was tacking up Coal cause i had a feeling you were gonna ask me to help Ash." Luke announces as he comes up next to me with all my tack in my arm and grabs my saddle and places it on the saddle rack near Baelfires stall. " Thank you, Baby." i say as walk up to where he was with my saddle and i attached my lips to his. At first it was a soft kiss but then it grew into more of a kiss.I started to

Laugh into the kiss as Baelfire reached his head out of the stall and grabbed Luke by his t-shirt. Luke pulled away from the kiss feeling the pressure of Baelfire pulling on him and once he got his shirt free, he said "I guess i have some competition, Hey Baelfire." Luke giggled as he scratched Baelfires head and started walking towards the tack room. "What do you want Jade in,Nicole?" Luke yells over his shoulder as he enters the tack room. " Throw her in the kimberwick and use Mason's saddle." I yell as I get a halter on Baelfire and pull him into the aisle, attaching him to the cross ties. "What the heck did you just say?" Ashton giggled as he looked at me like i had 3 heads. "It's the tack Ash. Luke will show you." I laugh as i return to Baelfire and start brushing him off. Calum and Michael come out of the tack room with tack and place them on the saddle racks that are on the wall down the aisles. "Are you guys taking Beck and Dino?" I ask as the walk down to the end of the barn and into stalls. "Yes,Nicole. Is that a problem?" Calum sasses as he gives me a grin and enters Dino's stall. " I laugh and continue brushing.

Luke comes out of the tack room with Ashton in toe and sets the tack down on the saddle rack with a Purple saddle pad. I put Baelfire's light blue saddle pad on his back along with the saddle. I then attached the girth and tightened it on both sides. I unclipped Baelfire from the cross ties and slip the reins over his head and slide off his halter. I slowly push the bit in his mouth and pull the crown piece over his ears and adjusted the nose band and throat latch. I left the reins over his neck and just let him stand there as I put on his light blue splint boots. Once I was all tacked up. I looked behind me to see everyone tacked but Ashton. "Whats the hold up Luke?" I ask as i come up to Jade's side. "Umm, well i can't find her girth" He says as he scratches the back of his neck and looks around the tack room. I go in the tack room and look under some of the saddle racks and find the girth we were looking for under one. It must have fallen while we were moving all the tack around. I exit the tack room and hand Luke the girth as he hands it to Ashton, he instructs him on how to put it on. "Ok. Ash so you buckle it like a belt and then you go to the other side and tighten it a bit." Ashton does the girth no problem and then picks up the bridle from the saddle rack and moves to her head and unclips her from the cross ties and bridles her. After he is done bridling Jade, He puts on her purple splint boots and she is all set to go.

We all went outside with our horses in one hand and a helmet in the other. Michael led Beck out in his dark green saddle pad and splints which contrasted perfectly with his light coat color. Calum came out next with Dino in a Teal saddle pad and white splint boots, not matching the teal because we couldn't find teal splints in his size. Finally Ashton and Luke come out with Jade and Coal and join us in the little field in front of the barn. Luke put Coal is a bark blue saddle pad and splints, which kinda matched with Baelfire and I. Luke,Calum,and Michael all hop on their horses and put their helmets on. I tie up Baelfires reins and let him nibble on some grass and walk over to Ashton to help him get on. I walk over to Jade and tighten her girth and roll down her stirrups. "Ok Ash so all you have to do is put your foot in the stirrup and pull your self up into the saddle." I instructed as I held on to the stirrup on the right side of the saddle while Ashton was on the left side. Ashton put his foot on the stirrup and pulled himself up into the saddle like he had been doing it for years. "We have a natural here boys" Calum says as he drops his reins and puts his hands up in the air celebrating that Ashton got on. I adjusted his stirrups for him as well as tightening his girth one last time and then walked back over to Baelfire. I untied his reins and jumped on his back, clipping my helmet in place before i adjusted my girth and stirrups.

When I was finished, I asked "Are you ready boys?" with a nod from all 4 boys we start heading on the trail. I gave Ashton a quick run down on how to ride, "Ok Ashton so kicking her will make her go forward and kicking her more after shes moving will make her go faster. if you want her to stop pull on the reins. If you want here to turn pull gently on the rein in the direction you want to go. Don't worry if you have a hard time, Jade knows commands so just tell her what too do. Got it?" I ask riding up to Ashton's side. He nods and gives Jade a gentle kick and we were on our way.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #michael 5sos #michael clifford #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #calum 5sos #calum hood #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin #5sos imagines #5sos imagine #5sosfam #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer imagines

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philipholt · 4 years

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Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021

I think we can all agree 2020 sucked. Hopefully 2021 will be better.

I've been a remote worker for 13 years by choice but in 2020 I HAD TO DO IT because, well, most programmers and tech workers did. I wrote about how Remote work != Quarantine Work while our whole division and then the whole company moved back home! We were a fairly remote-friendly company before but I have to admit I didn't always think my coworkers had really deep empathy for the remote...until they, too, were forced to be remote.

Last week on the podcast, I got to speak with Amanda Silver. She's a CVP in the Microsoft Developer Division who has been coding and thinking deeply about coding for many years. She's leading the creation of tools like Visual Studio, Visual Code, Live Share, Code Spaces, IntelliCode, and other collaborative productivity products. She's always thinking about what coding will look like in 1, 5, and even 10+ years.

We talked about her thoughts on moving the division remote and whether it would slow us down. Would it change how we develop software? What about when everyone comes back? After talking to her about her thoughts on 2020 and where she thinks we're heading, I got to thinking myself and wanted to put those thoughts down.

2020 broke everything, and developers like to fix things

Somewhere in the spring as we started into lockdown, developers started making sites. Sites to track COVID, GitHub projects with scripts to scrape data and analyze it. Javascripters started making D3.js visualizations and codepen users started building on top of them. Bots on twitter would tweet out updates and parse new data.

When there's a problem - especially a scary or untenable one - developers run towards the challenge. Necessity breeds invention and 2020 was definitely a year where we were collectively reminded there was a bunch of stuff that was always possible, but we needed a push. Cameras and mics were upgraded, ring lights were purchased, home networks got fancier, and everyone who could called their ISP and got an upgraded plan. We could have done all this before, but why? Remote work happened for the first time in 2020, and I say that having worked remotely forever.

We HAVE to collaborate remotely now

Back in 2010 I spoke to PhDs at Microsoft Research about how people feel when they are remote and what they can do to be more connected. Ten years! Folks thought it was pretty "out there" but I sure needed my virtual cubicle buddy this year.

2020 accelerated what was possible with remote collaboration. I spent hours coding with Live Share, pushing text and coding context over the wire, not a ridiculous 4k worth of pixels. Having two cursors (mine and my friends) - or even 10! - in one Visual Studio seemed like magic. Even more magic is me pressing F5 and my coworker hitting their localhost and seeing our app running! We needed tech like this more than ever in 2020.

I heard one story where a company sent everyone home but folks had disparate desktops and laptops so they set up 100s of Virtual Desktops over a weekend so everyone was able to log into secure work systems from their home machines.

For us, since we use Github and Azure DevOps here in DeviDiv, our collaboration model is asynchronous and distributed whether we are in the office or not. Can you imagine everyone working remotely while using a locking source control system in 2020? I feel bad for those who are in that predicament.

Can something be BETTER remotely?

Many of us miss being in the same room with co-workers, and we will be together again one day, but are there some things that the constraint of being remote can make better? In the podcast episode Amanda said that our new hire bootcamp was so much better remotely!

She said (paraphrasing a bit):

We have a bootcamp for anybody who's newly started on the team. They actually fly out for two weeks. And the first week is introduction and the second week is our customer driven workshop. And our customer driven workshop is basically this really intense team project where you break up into groups of five to six people, and you're given a business assignment like - how could we double the number of Python developers using Visual Studio Code.

You're basically doing like stickies on the wall the entire week - that's how you collaborate. I've been so amazed that that has transitioned to be remote first. And it's better. It's better. That was a brainstorming process that I thought was only possible in person it's better.

When we moved remote, we had to essentially reboot the way that we thought about our meeting culture to actually make it much more inclusive. And if we go from 40 to 50% of the people participating to just 2 people participating, that's a huge, not only degradation, but you're wasting people's time. Right?

Now if we can actually take six people who've never met each other before and get them to work super collaboratively on a new problem area that they've never worked on before. It's incredible. And the thing that's also really awesome about it is they are forced by nature of the fact that this is remote to actually create it as digital content. Whereas in the beginning they would literally walk us through sticky notes on the wall and they had fantastic ideas, but it was really kind of somewhat unorganized and, and it was hard to be able to see and, and retain and share out afterwards what these incredible ideas were that they came up with.

But when remotely starts with this digital format by necessity because everyone is remote first, we actually now have all of these things archived. We can come back to them, we can go back and actually see, you know, what was the genesis of the thought and, and pursue a lot of these things that we really weren't being able to pursue previously.

Constraints breed innovation!

It was nice to be reminded that People are People

2020 normalized being a person. Having a boss welcome a sad child to sit with them during a meeting reminded me that, what, my boss is a person? With a life and kids? Having meetings while going for walks, talking about treadmill desks, and video called parties with family, and OMG when will this be over is the most horrible team building exercise ever.

It's forced us to rethink our group's culture, how our interpersonal dynamics work, how many meetings we have (let's have less), and it's given everyone the joy of somewhat flexible hours. We talk more now about 'is everyone in this meeting being heard?' than ever before. We use the "hand raising" tool in Teams to make sure all voices get a chance to speak.

If 2020 hadn’t happened, we may not have made these important leaps forward. MAYBE this would have happened by 2025 or 2030 but COVID was the pivot point that forced the issue.

Here's some other blog posts that are both reflecting on our last year and hopeful for the coming year:

Software Development in 2021 and Beyond by Amanda Silver

4 Open Source Lessons for 2021 by Sarah Novotny

Low-code Trends: Why Low-Code Will Be Big In Your 2021 Tech Strategy by Dona Sarkar

PODCAST: Living through 2020 as a Remote Developer

Sponsor: Looking for free secure coding training but don’t know where to turn? Check out Veracode Security Labs Community Edition to start hacking and patching real apps online. Try it today.

Looking back on Software Development in 2020 and forward to 2021 published first on http://7elementswd.tumblr.com/

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pinegreenapples · 5 years

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My Last Two Brain Cells Took a Nap and Now We’re Here

This is essentially a love letter to @incorrect-rangers-quotes. Keep doing the Lord’s work.

Halt was never worried about whether or not Gilan and Will would get along. Both boys were quite affable and easy going, and while Will was still skittish in his new home, he had a feeling that the two of them would grow close as the summer went on. Even after Will had beaned Gilan with a Nerf dart to the cheek.

“Hey. Hey Will. If you work on a farm and your job is to take care of chickens, you are a chicken tender.”

Will gasped long and loud. Halt frowned down at his report, what the hell-

“Yoooooooooooo!!!!! Gil you’re so right!!!!”

Although, on second thought, Halt really should’ve been worried.

***

Most mornings for Halt were often blessedly silent. Will was an early riser but he wasn’t exactly a cognizant early riser and seeing a ghost was more likely than finding Gilan out of bed before eleven. However, today was different.

One day, every July, Halt set aside time for himself and Gilan to go to the amusement park. It had started back when Gilan was barely 12 and had more energy than a pika who had chugged ten red bulls in a spite fueled dare. Halt had figured that an amusement park was a worthy investment that would burn off at least five of the red bulls and he hadn’t been wrong.

Gilan had spent so much energy running around from ride to ride that he went to bed early that night and Halt had a wondrously quiet time reading in the living room. Halt decided then and there that the amusement park trip was now a necessity for each summer he had Gilan, if only for the potential of peace and quiet for one night.

At seventeen, Gilan was considerably less of an energetic mess that vibrated if left without something to do for too long, but the trip out to the amusement park had become a tradition to him and so, Halt was obligated to set a date and go.

This year, Will would be accompanying them and Gilan was thrilled at the prospect of finally having someone to ride the rides with him. Halt, knowing his limits, had only ever gone on the whirli-gig for its slow movements and gentle circular motion. Occasionally, Crowley had joined them but Crowley could only handle so much before he also had to bow out.

Due to the excitement of the day, Gilan had actually woken up early and was seated at the table with a zombie-like Will eating eggs. Halt pulled the last of waffles out of the waffle maker and set the plate on the kitchen table.

“Thanks, Halt!” Gilan smiled up at him and reached for a waffle. Will grunted out something that could’ve been English and also reached for a waffle.

Halt snorted at the two of them as Gilan began to drown his waffle in syrup and Will tore into his completely plain. After a few bites it seemed like Will was beginning to finally perk up. Halt went back to the stove, collected the bacon, and was about to reenter the dining room when Will spoke up.

“You know, if you think about it, waffles are just thick pancakes with abs.”

Halt felt his brain screech to a stop.

Gilan snorted. Then he giggled. He broke out in a full peal of laughter and kept going for the full minute it took Halt’s brain to reboot.

“Oh my goodness, Will, you’re so right! They are! How did I never notice?”

Halt saw will shrug. “You just never let the subconscious rule your waking thoughts for more than a few minutes.”

“Well damn, now I gotta try it!”

Will nodded and the two of them went back to eating.

Halt took advantage of the quiet to slip back in with the bacon and start in on his own breakfast. He managed to get two bites of his eggs in before Gilan spoke up again.

“Wait, if waffles are thick pancakes with abs, what does that make crepes? Are they the twinks of the pancake family?”

Halt pinched the bridge of his nose.

***

“Will! Gilan! Come on we’re going to the hardware store!” Halt called.

There was a loud thump from Will’s room followed by a yelp and hurried footsteps. Another thump and more footsteps joined the first set.

There’s one, Halt thought as Gilan came skidding around the corner in his sock feet. Aaaaaand, there’s two, he thought as Will tried to run around the corner, slipped, faceplanted, and got up grinning.

“Shoes, the both of you. Preferably closed toed. We’re buying bricks for the garden walkway.”

“You have a garden?” Gilan hopped past with a sneaker.

“Yes, I have a garden, Gilan.” Halt glared at the teenager.

“Yeah, it’s the rectangle by the two oaks that has all the dandelions in it. Halt says they compliment the petunias he put in.” Will plopped himself on the floor and started to loosen his shoelaces.

Halt stared balefully at the middle schooler sitting in his hallway. “Yes, thank you, Will.”

“Huh, I always thought that was just a patch you let grow over from the first owner.” Gilan straightened and moved closer to the door.

Halt swung his glare back around to Gilan. Gilan’s cheer didn’t diminish in the slightest.

“But hey, to each their own!” He sidled past Halt and went to sit in the passenger’s seat.

Will got up and followed Halt out the door, dogging his step with questions.

“What color are we buying? Are they gonna be straight or wavy? I like the wavy ones I think they’re cool! Ooh, are we gonna get to put them down? I’ve never done that before! How do you make a garden walkway anyway? Do you dig little holes and then put the bricks in there or do you just set them down on the dirt?”

“Red, straight, yes, and I’ll show you later.”

“Okay!” Will bounded into the vehicle like a puppy that had been told it was going for a walk and practically vibrated in his seat the whole drive there.

***

While Will and Gilan had behaved themselves on the ride over, they seemed to have forgotten all their manners once they entered the store. They buzzed around from display to display, picking up items and cracking jokes. Halt tried to ignore them and kept on a steady course for the bricks. The boys followed him, but at a more sedate pace.

When they did catch up to him, he was already loading packages of bricks into the car. Will, helpful as ever, came over to aid him while Gilan hung back and snagged a display brick off the shelf.

“You know, bricks are just domesticated rocks.”

Halt closed his eyes and fought off the urge to lay his head down on the cart handle.

“Nu-uh! What do think pet rocks are if they aren’t domesticated rocks?” Will countered, crossing his arms.

“Can I please have one day without your nonsense. Both of you. One day. That’s all I ask. Please. Just one. A singular day,” Halt broke in just before the two of them could really get going. Both heads swiveled towards him. Will, a bit sheepish, Gilan, utterly unrepentant and clearly not done with the topic at hand.

Halt saw the gears turn in Gilan’s head and belatedly moved to cut him off. “Don’t-”

“What if pet rocks are kinda like monkeys though? Like, they’re similar to the domesticated version but they’re not quite there.”

“Wait, but wouldn’t they be more like Neanderthals, then?”

“An excellent point!”

Halt sighed and started to push the cart towards the check out. Maybe if he walked fast enough he could lose them and have a peaceful ride back.

#halt o'carrick #will treaty #gilan davidson #ranger's apprentice #the ranger's apprentice #they are dorks #halt is so done #modern au #ananas writes #mine

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 11

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle. It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes. With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3 | Masterlist

—

Saturday (1 week to wedding)

Rose straightened with a groan, grabbing her wine glass and taking a large gulp. She’d spent most of the day alternating between packing and questioning her life choices, as she prepared to move. It wasn’t the most exciting way to spend a Saturday, her last as an unmarried woman (or, inevitably, a divorcée), but she had put it off for long enough.

Tomorrow Malcolm, Mickey, Danny, and Pete would move out anything she wouldn’t need in her final week here; most of her clothing and some knickknacks would be going to Malcolm’s townhouse, while the rest returned to her parents’ house for storage. Clara and Danny had more than enough in the way of furniture and furnishings, and she’d decided to clear out everything to allow it to truly become their own space, instead of making them feel like guests in what was now, essentially, their own home.

What they would all do in five years was anyone’s guess; so many things could happen between now and then Rose refused to dignify it with any thought – except for when the questions haunted her in the middle of the night.

She took another large swig of wine, unable to bring herself to regret skipping dinner as warmth rushed through her.

A knock on the door made Rose frown, and she hesitated until a second, more forceful bang on the door convinced her to move towards it. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, open up,” Clara called.

Rose sighed, glancing between the door and her wine glass, finishing it off in one go before opening the door. “What?”

She realized her mistake too late, as she found her mother, Clara, and several other female friends smiling on the other side, dressed up for a night out.

“No,” Rose said firmly, then spotted the ‘Bride’ sash tucked in the crook of Clara’s elbow. “Oh, fuck no.”

Clara caught the door before it slammed in her face, wriggling her way inside. “Oh, fuck yes,” she shook her head, artificial curls bouncing. “C’mon, it’s your last weekend as a bachelorette, you should live it up!”

“I don’t want to, and I have a lot of packing to do,” Rose whispered, giving her friend a pleading look. “Don’t make me do this.”

“It’s tradition!” Clara tried and failed to match her volume, telling Rose that the partying had already begun. “It’ll be fun. We’ll go out, have a few drinks, maybe one last one-night stand?”

“I’ve never had a one-night stand, and I don’t intend to start now. Besides, I’m getting married – to your father – next week,” Rose hissed back, conscious that Clara was the only person in the proposed party to know the truth. “Stop it.”

“Rose,” her mother said firmly, eyes crossing slightly as she tried to focus, “stop being a wet blanket. We want to celebrate you finally getting married. This isn’t for you, it’s for us. Now, get tarted up and let’s go. You owe it to us.”

Rose sighed, not convinced but knowing she wasn’t going to win. Jackie had made everything about this so far a Thing, whining over every choice Rose and Malcolm had made, first and foremost that she wasn’t being included in any of the decision-making. Malcolm had insisted on footing the bill, letting Rose have whatever she wanted, though she’d insisted they make their choices together. They’d decided the fairest thing would be leave everyone out of the planning, making all the decisions and arrangements themselves.

I know I should just be grateful she’s still talking to me, but still…

“Fine.” Scowling, she opened the door wide and stepped back. “C’mon in, I’ll just go get dressed.” Not waiting until they entered she stalked off towards her bedroom, cognizant that Clara trailed behind her. “What?”

Her friend was silent, settling herself on Rose’s bed as Rose opened her closet and started flipping through the dresses still hanging there. “You know, if you’ve changed your mind, Dad would understand,” Clara said quietly. “He wants you to be happy, and so do I.”

“I made my choice.” Rose clucked at the options in front of her; what twenty minutes ago she’d deemed too slutty for work were suddenly seeming perfectly tame. “Really, I’m good.”

“Dad says you’ve been in a shitty mood all week.”

I’m marrying a man I love who doesn’t love me. I’m scared that I’ve wasted the last five years of my life waiting for someone who will never want me, and that I’m going double or nothing on something that could never be anything. I’m scared of missing my chance at real love, and happiness, and a family.

“I’m just stressed,” she sighed. “With moving, then the wedding and the Gala… There’s a lot going on right now.” Picking a dress at random she started undoing her jeans; after four years of living together at uni and more than a decade of friendship, she had no issue with changing in front of Clara.

“If you’re sure,” her friend said cautiously. “For the record, I think Dad’s really excited about having you in the townhouse. He’s been fussing over everything, insisting it has to be perfect for you. It’s cute.”

Rose smiled wistfully to herself, backing out of the closet and otherwise ignoring the comment. “Zip me up?”

Clara rolled off the bed, and by the sound of it, it was a less-than-graceful move. “Comin’.” A moment later she zipped her up, and Rose turned for inspection. “Is that what you want to wear?”

Rolling her eyes, Rose moved towards her bathroom. “Yes. Give me five more minutes.”

It was almost midnight when the first text came in.

Never been so bored at a club. Am I getting old?!?!

Malcolm stared down at his mobile in bafflement, double checking that the message had come from Rose.

I thought you were packing tonight? he sent back, before setting it back on the sofa next to him. The movie playing out on screen faded to the background as he waited for a response, worried- and somewhat concerned he was overreacting.

She can go out if she wants, he reminded himself firmly. She doesn’t need me fussing over her.

To that end, he picked up the mobile again, hesitating a moment before sending another message.

Forget my last message. Have a good time.

He hit send and immediately regretted it. I don’t know how to do this. A month ago if she’d texted him something like that they’d spent the next hour or so joking back and forth – but that was a month ago, and this was now, a week before their wedding.

Can I tell you a secret? was her response after an agonizing wait, and nothing like what he expected – he had, in fact, given up hope of any reply at all.

Of course.

It took seemingly forever for her to answer, but he daren’t give up – if Rose Tyler wanted to confide in him, not even death itself could stop him from being there for her. Dramatic, much?

I’m… actually really happy we’re going to be living together. Officially Clara’s my best friend, and she always will be, but… so are you. I’m looking forward to spending more time with you out of the office, hanging out. Watching a movie, dissecting the latest ep of Game of Thrones as it airs, cooking dinner together.

I just think it’ll be nice.

Sitting on his couch, Malcolm stared at his mobile, in equal parts awed, confused, and heartbroken. Awed, because that was exactly how he felt, confused because how could someone like Rose, so caring and warm and sweet and funny and wonderful want to spend more time with him, and heartbroken because… she doesn’t love me. That much was clear. Obviously she cared for him, maybe even loved him, but that didn’t mean she was in love with him.

Eventually his brain rebooted enough to realize that was not a message to leave unanswered, and hurriedly pecked out, I wholeheartedly agree. Really looking forward to it.

He fell asleep waiting to hear back.

Malcolm knocked on the door again, harder this time, and checked his watch. Rose had strictly instructed him to be there at eight, and he’d been knocking off and on for several minutes – it was only a matter of time before her nosy neighbor rang the police, which was the last thing he needed or wanted.

Is she even here? he was starting to wonder; after not hearing back the previous night he was worried if it was just a hangover, or something more.

His mobile buzzed then, and he pulled it out to see a new message from Rose. Clicking it open, he was confused to just see the word key. What? A moment later he understood, and found the spare key she’d given him years ago, just in case.

He’d never used it before.

Juggling the bag of baked goods and a tray of coffee he let himself in, dumping his backpack by the door and making his way through the flat. “Rose?” he called quietly, sidestepping the veritable maze of mostly-full boxes. “I brought coffee.”

A pitiful moan led him to the living room, where he leaned on the back of the couch and looked down to find a mess of blonde hair splayed out. She was face down in the pillows, half falling off the couch, and he had to fight back a laugh at the adorably pathetic vision she made. Out of habit his eyes flickered over her, down the back of her tight black dress, only to stop, breathless, at her bum.

Her bare bum.

By the time his heart restarted he realized she was, in fact, wearing a scarlet thong, which was visible because the hem of her dress had ridden up at some point. His full senses returned then and he spun on his heel, stalking away and resisting the urge to adjust himself in suddenly uncomfortable trousers. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Once there he relinquished his death grip on the paper bag and carrier tray, setting breakfast carefully on the countertop. The more he tried not to think about what he’d just seen the clearer the image was; her soft skin, the delectable curves- Stop perving on her, he told himself firmly, even as he wondered what other skimpy knickers she might have and- heaven help him- might even bring to the townhouse. BEHAVE.

In an effort to distract himself he looked around the kitchen wildly, spotting a few gift bags down the other end of the island. Mostly out of desperation he stuck his hand in the bag, closing around something and pulling it out, staring down blankly at it, blood rushing in his ears – and other bits.

“Um…”

His head snapped up in horror to find Rose, now with her dress lying flat on her thighs blimey could that be any shorter? standing in the doorway watching him.

“I can… this is not what it looks like,” he stammered, heart now racing in embarrassment. “Really.”

Rose licked her lips, giving him a faint smile as she ran her hand through her hair and padded towards him. “So you’re not standing in my kitchen holding a massive dildo my mates bought me?” Her voice was raspier than normal, further evidence of her night of drinking, and he had to swallow twice before he could attempt an answer.

“Okay, maybe it is what it looks like.” Glancing down at it again, he frowned. “I dunno if I’d say it was massive.” Then, face flushing further, he gingerly dropped it back into the bag. “Sorry.”

She just hummed, reaching for one of the cups but hovering her hand just over it. “Mine?”

“Yeah.”

Lifting it to her mouth she drank greedily, and he watched her throat work as she practically inhaled the coffee. For fuck’s sake, did you wake up eighteen? Pull your shit together he reminded himself firmly, pressing against the countertop to alleviate some of the pressure.

It didn’t work.

“Rough night?” he managed, inching down the island towards the as-yet untouched bag. “Brought you a bear claw.”

“Mhmm, thanks,” she accepted it, ripping off a big bite. “Yeah, you could say. I was gonna just stay in and pack but Clara and Mum and a few mates showed up and dragged me out for a hen night. Didn’t get in until two.”

He just nodded, entirely inappropriate thoughts swirling through his mind. “Erm, can I ask- why the…”

“Dildo?” she finished helpfully, dragging herself up onto a barstool. “That was Shireen’s gift. She thought it might come in handy… just in case.”

“Just in case what?” He knew the answer before he even finished asking, bristling. “I’ll have you know, I have no trouble in that department,” he said stiffly, thinking of his current predicament. “Believe me.”

Her smirk just grew, her eyes coming alive with a twinkle. “If you say so.”

“I do!”

They stared at each other for a long moment, her look teasing, his indignant, before the reality of the conversation settled around them.

“Uh…”

“I need to go clean the club off me,” Rose stood. “Thanks for the coffee. Give me ten minutes, then we can get started.”

“Okay.” He watched her go, studying the way her skirt clung to her hips, before turning a glare on the gift bag.

“That may never happen between us,” Malcolm told it quietly, checking to make sure she was out of earshot, “but if it does, she sure as fuck won’t need you.”

#bbatcfic #ficandchips #Doctor Who #doctorroseprompts #Human!12xRose #Human!Twelfth Doctor #Rose Tyler #Human AU #AU #The Nuptial Necessity

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zap-writing · 5 years

Text

The sun sets on another day - TRSNS fanfic

@redstone-sun‘s fic fucked me up so I did what I know and wrote about it to cope asdfghjhgf

the basic summary of this fic: Mumbo has a Bad Day(TM) and we stan Good Guy Iskall

AO3 Link

On days like these, Mumbo felt his guilt like concrete weights tied tight around his throat.

The actual impulses and desires to obey that sanguine call no longer affected him as often as they used to―perhaps out of sheer necessity rather than true recovery, but the fine details didn’t matter. Not to Mumbo at least. The intrusive thoughts and feelings, however, were another story.

Sometimes he wished he could just press a button and fix all of his problems like one would a faulty machine, force him through some kind of psychological reboot. His prescribed process was tedious enough as it was; exposure therapy was a snail’s race by nature, and the transitions were mind-numbingly gradual. From mentions of redstone, to discussions of redstone, to looking at redstone, to touching redstone, to holding redstone, to――

And so on and so forth.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and the process was anything but linear and orderly. For a long while it felt like every step he took forward, something would send him three steps and a stumble back. One moment he was setting up semi-complex circuits from memory in his obsidian home, the next Grian would make an off-hand comment about a test contraption one of the hermits built nearly killing him and Mumbo would find himself involuntarily wishing it had.

Those moments scared him. He knew that it wasn’t really him thinking then, that it was just some heinous, corrupted part of him, some deep innate brand of the Red Sun festering behind his eyes. But it wasn’t any less terrifying to catch himself tempted by the crimson voice in the back of his mind that told him he didn’t belong in the overworld, that he needed to continue wiring in the quartz covered plains or he’d never be satisfied, to beg and steal and lie and cheat if it meant getting back to the Sun’s dimension, that if anyone got in his way he had to kill kill kill kill kilL KILL KILL KILL KILL K―

. . .

Those nights, Mumbo felt pain beyond anything he’d known before, from the crescent welts of his fingernails dug deep into the meat of his forearms, to the once-foreign hopelessness that left him wondering why anyone thought he was worth saving anymore.

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

On days like these, Mumbo found himself convinced that he’d never be released from his blood-stained binds.

It hurt more than he cared to admit, having redstone so intrinsically ruined for him. Sure, he had brute-forced his way into standing it enough to look over blueprints with Iskall and play with it like a child when he was alone, but it was never the same. Nothing compared to the satisfaction of improving on an existing design, nor the pride and excitement of inventing something entirely new.

Inventions. Redstone was such a progressive material, a resource far beyond any of the hermits’ understanding. It was able to do just about anything if only someone could crack the code to get there. Most of them already knew of the wonders it could provide--plenty of the hermits used redstone-based bionics, or at the very least a form of enhancement.

Iskall was no stranger to them, obviously. Perhaps Mumbo shouldn’t have been surprised, then, when the man came to him amidst his wallowing with a stack of crudely arranged notes in hand. He was somehow more chipper and cheeky than usual if the bright smile on his face was anything to go by. There was a proud sort of flourish as he handed the papers to Mumbo, who sat with wariness and confusion. That apprehension, however, was quickly replaced with curiosity.

Blueprints and notes regarding the conception of redstone-powered contraptions and devices would typically be a quick read for Mumbo, but even having been friends with Iskall and Grian for quite some time, there was no way to scan through the chicken-scratch handwriting and less-than discernible doodles in a short amount of time.

Mumbo’s initial attempt at cracking the code that was Iskall’s notes was interrupted not ten seconds in when two loaves of bread, an apple, and a bottle of water was set down in front of him, making him flinch slightly. He stared at the selection for a moment, mouth suddenly dry, before nodding his thanks and reaching for the apple. It was in that instant that Mumbo realized he didn’t remember the last time he had something to eat and swallowed down his embarrassment.

The two men soon fell into silence as Mumbo worked through the notes bit by bit, often pausing to right papers that had somehow folded or flipped upside down in Iskall’s attempt to organize them. Though it took a while, a careful read through informed Mumbo of Iskall’s plans to research a possibility of mechanically repairing his vocal cords.

There was a prominent section on the usage of prismarine crystals and diamond powder to color match the box with his eye prosthetic, and another that explored the possibility of controllable pitch and volume settings.

(In a better scenario, Mumbo would have been terrified at the possibilities that would come with giving Iskall such power, and even now he wondered who the first prank victim would be.)

All of it was quite clearly in the early stages of development, but Mumbo could help but brighten up at the thought of Iskall being able to talk again. It wasn’t something he liked to think about for long or often, but he missed Iskall’s voice. Before the incident, his friend’s laughs and sly comments were one of the things that helped the days go by, and Mumbo knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so. The man deserved his voice and more for what he’d gone through.

But information on Iskall’s voice-box plans came to an unexpected stop halfway through the stack of notes. Suddenly Mumbo was reading through two different handwriting styles about mechanical joints and synthetic muscle fiber and artificial nerve endings and――

He stopped reading. This section contained far too many things he knew too little about.

Head spinning from unfamiliar jargon, he looked up at Iskall in question.

“F...f-for Gri..ian,” came the harsh rumble from Iskall, startling Mumbo in the process. Both of the men stared at each other for a moment, each sheepish in their own right, before Iskall pulled out a relatively new-looking book and began writing.

[Doc let me take a look at his arm a bit ago and helped me out with the technical stuff. I’m hoping that we can replicate a pair for Grian. Took much more work comin up with this blueprint than it did for my voicebox plan lol ]

Mumbo went from bemused to ecstatic as he read Iskall’s explanation, feeling surprisingly hopeful for the first time in a long time. The sheer thought of his friends getting back what he took from them made his heart swell with guilty joy.

The technician’s part of his brain fired off a million different inquiries about how they could get these plans to work, but his heart ached knowing this was a project he wouldn’t have much part in if any. He didn’t specialize in bionics for one, but even if he felt like dabbling in the expertise for the benefit of his friends, Mumbo didn’t want to get too involved out of fear of relapse.

Especially not after today. He just wasn’t ready.

“These plans are incredible, Iskall.” Mumbo whispered in awe, flipping through both sections of the packet thrice over. A part of him yearned to add notes and suggestions of his own along the margins of the already messy prints, but he swallowed down the eagerness and handed the papers back to Iskall with a shaky hand. Far too fast for him to subdue, bubbling apprehension rose into his chest again as a presence beneath his ribcage scolded him for not ripping the notes to shreds when he had the chance and Mumbo turned away from Iskall in shame. He didn’t even notice himself staring off into the corner of his room until the scratching of a feather pen against paper got his attention again.

[I was hoping you would say that. Wouldn't be Architech patent-worthy without your approval :) ]

Mumbo gave a half-hearted as smile his dear friend stored the notes away in a light blue shulker box he hadn’t seen get brought out. As Iskall packed the box up, a red hot silence burned within the room and Mumbo flushed at the uneasiness of it all, hating the fact that he couldn’t enjoy the company of the people he loved anymore. It made him feel like an ass when he was so unresponsive and caught up in self-pity, but at the same time it felt like acting as if nothing ever happened would be a slap in the face to everyone he wronged. He was halfway through a mental reprimand when Iskall huffed through his nose and came to sit beside him at his birch wood table.

A beat or two passed in silence before a steady hand reached out to fix the uneven part in Mumbo’s hair, smooth out the collar of his dress shirt, and pat him gently on the side of his face. The warmth of Iskall’s hand damn nearly drove Mumbo to tears. With cloudy eyes, he watched as Iskall tilted his head, expression a melancholy mix of fondness and sorrow.

[It’s bad today, huh?]

With a sharp intake of breath and clenched teeth, Mumbo glanced away from Iskall. He’d rather pretend he was fine than admit to the Red Sun’s influence holding strong sway over him today. But before he could come up with something to say, Iskall was already shoving his book back into Mumbo’s hands.

[Don’t try to lie to me, I can see it in your face. And in the stubble on your chin.]

“I…“ Mumbo started, cotton-mouthed and ashamed, closing his eyes to prevent the tears from glossing over his vision.

Sweet scarlet whispers pricked at the back of his head and swirled behind his eyelids, reminding him the Red Sun never sets the Red Sun never sets the Red Sun never sets, and he tensed his jaw to try and drown out the words with a high-pitched strain. The world around him grew warm and tight and dark, and despite his best efforts, the voices seemed to just get louder.

All at once, Mumbo realized that Iskall was pushing at his shoulders and letting out determined, wordless noises as he tried to bring the man from his panic. Mumbo brought down his hands from where he found them pressed firmly against his ears, noticing that his face felt warm and wet. He silently wiped at his cheeks with his sleeve, defeated.

“...Yeah. It is.”

“I-I...It’ss oh-k-kay.” Iskall offered gently, releasing his hold from his friend’s shoulders and sliding them down to his arms as he scanned Mumbo for any more signs of distress. As soon as his hands were free, he reached for his book again.

[It’s a nice day out today. Let’s go for a walk. I’ll shoot Grian a message to meet us in the shopping district.]

Before Mumbo could begin to read, Iskall plucked the book from his hand and began writing frantically, leaving Mumbo to wipe at the heavy tears that pooled over the edge of his eyelids once again.

[Let’s not tell him about my plans yet. I don’t want to get him excited for something that could take months or more to even start on. Promise to keep it a secret for now?]

Mumbo couldn’t help but flash him a warm smile. This man has done so much for both him and Grian even in wake of his own obstacles and responsibilities. There was nothing in this world or the next that Mumbo could offer as retribution.

“Sure thing. You have my word.”

Iskall huffed a laugh, grabbing and immediately shaking Mumbo’s hand with unnecessary earnest.

[Jolly good cheers mate! Let’s get you ready for our stroll, shall we lad? Pip pip!]

With a good-natured roll of his eyes, Mumbo stood from where he’d been sat since early that morning, bones audibly popping from inactivity, and made towards his room to change into a clean white button-up and dress pants, leaving his coat on the bed. It took him a moment to brave the mirror in the corner of his room, but once he could stand to look at his reflection, he made an honest attempt to make himself presentable. After smoothing out the folds and wrinkles in his shirt, Mumbo pulled at his mustache a few times in an attempt to style it, lamenting that he didn’t have the time to shave the shadow from his jaw.

There was a soft, gentle hum from Iskall that got Mumbo’s attention as he exited his room, and he walked closer to read what his friend was saying.

[Handsome.]

Bashful, Mumbo blushed and shut the book. Compliments always made him somewhat embarrassed before, but it hit him much harder nowadays, especially when he felt bad about not being able to clean up as much as he preferred. Despite his self-consciousness, Mumbo was grateful for Iskall’s encouragement and offered a small smile in thanks.

As he and Iskall locked up his house and began the journey towards the shopping district, Mumbo watched him message Grian and shake with silent laughter―probably at something stupid Grian responded with, knowing them, but he was too engrossed in thought to catch what was said―and noticed that for the first time in a while that he couldn’t hear the honeyed song of the Red Sun, nor could he feel its pull deep within his bones.

Truly, Iskall and Grian were gifts from the universe he didn’t deserve. It was a bloody wonder that they still stood by him after all they went through. Despite everything, his friends still cared for him. Still loved him. There was nothing he could do to repay them for that. And nothing could compare to the outpour of adoration he felt for them in return.

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

On days like these, with his best friends at his sides, Mumbo felt free.

#the red sun never sets #trsns #mumbo jumbo #mumbo #iskall85 #iskall #grian #grian and mumbo and iskall #architech trio #hermitcraft #I am likely to and probably will be looking for errors so Blease let me know if u see any

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ifeveristoday · 5 years

Text

you are the vessel and she’s the life

Okay. When I first read issue #3, I did not like it. The art continues to be amazing, the colors glorious and they add to the atmosphere of the Hellmouth world - but I felt at first read, this was a weaker installment for the non-movement of the plot. If Hellmouth was a longer arc, I would have less issues because Jordie & Jeremy are developing Buffy and Angel, and giving the space for the audience to learn more about them, just as other characters are being brought into the spotlight for the namesake comics. I want to learn more about Kendra, Jenny, Fred, Gunn, et al. But it’s also a valid criticism that Buffy was missing from her story, long before Hellmouth began.

To compare Buffy (the intellectual property) to another cultural juggernaut for a minute - Star Wars. The reboots, the prequels, the ever-expanding universe - it’s all Star Wars, no matter what fans may feel about certain portions of it. But I see a lot of the same argument leveled at the Boom!verse that I do about Star Wars - ‘it doesn’t feel like ________________’, or ‘that’s not my Buffy.’ I’ve certainly done my fair share of completely ignoring/complaining about the Dark Horse ‘canonically approved’ verse, so I get it. And I think just by the nature of a reboot, there are so many expectations, especially when you use the same characters. And IMO, Jordie and co. have been doing an admirable job of balancing their version of Sunnydale vs. memories/nostalgia of the TV canon.

The point is to remake something for a new audience while respecting the source for the ‘original’ (whatever that means) fans. And it’s such a rich world with many characters to play with, and lots of different ways to explore themes that the show didn’t, or botched/dismissed. It’s a daunting experience to adapt, I’m sure - and I’ve been enjoying reading what Jordie has been doing with character development and the emotional beats of a story. The characters do feel like they exist in 2019.

However, with this issue, I felt like there was retread/not enough of a building on the momentum that Issues 1 and 2 had, along with a last-minute feel of a brand new original character, and some in-jokes that didn’t really add anything. This was my first reaction. Then I read it again, and with the other Hellmouth issues.

Major spoilers underneath the cut.

Back to my earlier point about Buffy being missing from her story - we still don’t know very much about Buffy’s backstory but that was never the point of her character, she was always very much in the now. The earlier issues had her in full Slayer mode with little intervals of an awkward, uncertain teenager! Buffy, and the last time she gets to hang out and do teenager things, Xander gets turned. And we didn’t really see the fallout in terms of Buffy’s feelings about it - but we did get very much appreciated insight into Willow and Xander’s characters.

Then Buffy flings herself into the Hellmouth, after feeling estranged from Willow and dealing with a lot of unspoken guilt/shame. Oh no, not like TV Canon Buffy at all.

However, the break from the Scoobies and entering the Hellmouth brought out Buffy Summers in all her confused, messy, intense bravery. Here was the girl who quipped malapropisms, made up sassy nicknames and leaped into the fray, fists first. And here was the girl who’s self-aware that her impetuousness and desire to save people also hurts the people she loves because she pushes them away - both out of necessity and because it’s her job. It’s a common refrain throughout the run of the series, emphasized by Giles and repeated by Buffy - she has to do this, and often alone - she’s the first responder in the apocalypse.

Heroine complex, man.

And then she meets LA’s finest, the dark knight, Mr. Hunchy Shoulders Guy - Angel. I’ve said it before, Bryan Edward Hill’s decision to have Angel meet Buffy cold, with an already established backstory of his own and then Jordie carrying that over into the Hellmouth event really changes the Buffy and Angel dynamic in the Boom!verse. A welcome change, and then when the portents/prophecies kick in, Angel dismisses them completely. His no-nonsense, I’m just here to do a job and then I’m out mode is amusing to me, because obviously, this is going to end up in romantic comedy land, just with a higher body count and lots of blood.

Buffy and Angel in TV canon never really got that light-hearted, getting-to-know-you phase because there was always the pall of forbidden love/gothic angst/and willful misunderstandings on both parties, never mind the interference/concerns and complaints from the people who loved them.

In Hellmouth, not only do Buffy and Angel get developed as characters, so does their budding ‘work’ friends relationship. Their banter is just delightful to read, and they get to be vulnerable/honest (to a point) with each other, that they haven’t been able to do so with their respective friends. And as they’re fighting demons and tracking down Drusilla, it creates an understandably sudden bond that most likely wouldn’t have happened above ground. They’re the only ones who can stop the forces of evil and cover each other’s backs.

Except for the undead elephant in the room, that has been in the room since Angel first appeared in Sunnydale -

Angel is a vampire. Angel witnessed Drusilla attacking Xander -- and did nothing to stop it.

And he knew it was Drusilla and Spike.

That lie comes back to majorly haunt his ass in Issue #3. Drusilla gleefully tells Buffy that he saw the whole thing, and also he has this whole other name, Angelus, which Buffy completely mishears and then rounds on Angel, asking him pointedly if they need a moment, or can she do the job she’s here for.

The revelation that Angel didn’t stop Xander’s turning naturally pings Buffy’s anger defenses and she tells him actually, no, we’re not friends, you don’t know me (even though I vented my guts out to you and you know I’m a slayer and you give weird pep talks to try to make me feel better -- Issues 1 & 2) - and I think besides the fact that Angel stood by and did nothing, it’s also that he didn’t tell her. Angel not telling Buffy important things, lying by omission basically, breaks their fragile alliance.

But it’s not until the second lie.

Something that has been driving me nuts since the first issue is that Angel hasn’t revealed his Vampire self to Buffy. There’s different levels to the relationships Angel has cultivated so far in the Boom!verse - with Fred and Gunn, he’s an ally (reluctant on Gunn’s part) and a friend (Fred) and he’s upfront with them that he’s a vampire. But with Buffy, who is going to be a major part of his life (if any of the previous portents and prophecies are to go by), he holds off/and hides his vampire self. And the question is why? Buffy already has a friend who has a Vampire side, but Xander’s a special case because he can still pass as human.

And it’s humanity that pops up in this issue - I knew it was coming, due to Boom’s wildly spoilery summaries/previews, but the way it was delivered?

Auggie - I know he has a full demon name but I’m not typing it out - and I think his name is also derived from Augury which means an omen/sign of what will happen in the future, seemed out of place to me. I mean, okay having a hell hut in the middle of the Hellmouth is whimsical and not completely out of the realm of the Buffyverse tone, and demons just trying to demon with no ambition to destroy the world is always nice to see - I just felt the introduction of him was too McGuffiny. There already was a figure who could see into the future (two of them, if you count Fee Fee from Angel’s first issue, except she disappeared into the plot hole where women characters go in that issue) and the initial one who set Angel on this path: Lilith.

Having Angel strike up a random conversation with an essentially magic demon eight ball when he could have been searching for Buffy or Drusilla felt like an unwelcome departure from the main story. Yes, the revelation that Angel could achieve humanity through some terrible ritual is important, but also - do you believe a demon who’s making a stew out of unidentifiable parts in the middle of the Hellmouth and just casually drops that information?

Read the room, Angel. It’s probably a trap.

Back to the A-story, Buffy thinks the Cthulu shape-shifter demon is back when she sees the vision of the guys in her life attacking the women - Giles and Jenny, Eric and Joyce, and Xander and Willow.Just as the Demon Joyce taunted her about her absence causing more havoc than help, the Demon men call her out Greek Chorus style - Giles says, “Sunnydale burns, Sacrifice.” Xander tells her, “But we can stop all this. The mother awaits you.”Eric says, “Come. End this suffering.”

Buffy accuses Dru of orchestrating this, and she laughs and tells her, “This is the hellmouth. Adapt, won’t you? It’s adapted to you....these are your people. This your nightmare.”

Buffy denies it coming true, and Dru tells her that it may yet come true - and she’s left Sunnydale defenseless. A slayer without her friends. There are fouler things than beasts, above. There are men.

Who have become the puppets of the unseen Hellmother.

So Drusilla was a red herring, a pawn in the game of Evil Chess. And this bums me out because Dru as a tangible villain/opponent is more interesting to me than another shadowy doom voice from the ether. Hellmother? Really?

This is where the reboot kind of loses me - Buffy’s greatest villains have been the ones who were personal to her, not as in just wanting to kill her, but an active part of her life. Dru (and by extension, Spike) in the Boom!verse would qualify because of what she did to Xander and threatening her mother. Dru being the front of a disembodied voice (that probably will take form in the next two issues) is a letdown. It’s the First Evil again.

The side effect of the men being turned into malevolent goons - okay, that is scary, but are we talking the Pack/Billy scary? (aka not very good episodes of either show because they either pulled punches or handwaved consequences)

Buffy teams up with Drusilla, which was unexpected, but at this point in the game, Buffy doesn’t have that many options. Her friend is missing (and it’s telling that even though she was hurt by the knowledge Angel did nothing to prevent Xander’s turning, she still refers to him as a friend to Drusilla. It might not be true forgiveness, but she was willing to move on, just for the sake of finding him and working to stop this mess.) And she keeps on reminding herself, these demons are not her friends, and are not real.

Which brings us to the final act - in more ways than one. Angel gets ambushed by a bunch of orc looking vampires, and finally goes Not Today, Satan on them.

And of course Buffy spots him on a mound of corpses, in full vamp face.

As much as I’m disappointed with the way Angel’s vampirism is revealed, it had to happen, and I have to admit, those last pages and panels are incredibly vivid and affecting.

Angel’s outstretched human hands covered in blood?

Buffy’s disbelief and then hardened look of disgust and her, “Don’t touch me.”

Goddammit.

Jordie and Jeremy have specific repetitions that I find interesting in terms of character development and where I think the plot is going -

Friends - the potential loss of them, the making of them, who to trust and how personal actions always have a consequence in relation to friends - Buffy is down on herself because she pushes people away and tried to lone wolf and it always, always blows up in her face, so this new thing with Angel is Buffy trying something new - trusting the other person so she can trust herself (because even though Willow and Xander are helpful and her besties, Buffy still can’t fully trust them with the fighting of evil because of her Slayer nature and belief that it’s her sole responsibility. She’s never had friends like that before. Angel has an equivalent strength to hers and already knows the evil game.)

So this issue blowing up all those tentative friend bridges?

Fucking painful. Because now it feels like Buffy was right - she can’t trust Angel, he’s not a friend, because why would he lie? Why didn’t he stop Drusilla? They clearly have a history. Has he been in on this from the beginning?

Buffy is alone, again.

And Angel? Who the fuck knows. Buffy has become important to him in a short amount of time, and it still needs to be addressed why he did nothing to save Xander. He was already on the saving gig, and was it because he knew Spike and Dru that he let it pass out of...familial bonds? That still doesn’t jibe with what he’s atoning for now.

As always, thanks to @jenny-calendar for being there for me to figure out all these fiddly parts. I still think this is the weakest issue of Hellmouth, and I’m not as confident as I was before in thinking it’ll be wrapped up neatly in the last two issues - but I hope this doesn’t signal the end of crossovers, and that the relationship wherever it goes, continues to develop over both of their lines. But I dislike it less on reread.

And Buffy better make an appearance in Ring of Fire, damn it.

AND WHERE IS CAMAZOTZ?

#buffy comics #boom! studios #hellmouth #boom! verse #meta #tldr summary i didn't like it as much as i did the first two #but i didn't hate it either #reactions and reviews #spoilers and reactions #angel in boom! land #angel done fucked up #disaster grumpy bats

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b0x · 5 years

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i hate that post that's like “we would've gotten a better trilogy if they'd just let rian johnson write all three films than playing hot potato with jj” like i get the point it's trying to make but you're forgetting that rj was fighting tooth and nail for the tlj r*ylo narrative since day 1 so you do realise we would've just gotten the same trilogy as we got now.......

further Thoughts on the trilogy as a whole and a few troc spoilers under the cut

also you KNOW that even if jj COULD have had a hand in saving it... there’s no saving a screenplay written by the guy who did the justice league films

No Comment. No Thoughts. Head Empty. everything post tfa was doomed from the start

have you SEEN the screenwriters for tfa? THAT’S why that one was so good, THAT’S why tfa succeeded as an excellent reboot of a long-dormant franchise. kasdan and arndt and jj should've been on for ALL THREE, and if they couldn’t, then a hiatus was the way to fucking go. rian never should have Touched it, never should have even Looked in its direction.

tfa had the essence of sw BECAUSE the essence of sw wrote it! tlj and tros isn’t sw!!!!

they rly just tried to make Anakin..... 2! with kylo... but somehow... even Worse. you can’t make an anakin story Without showing kylo’s motives and morals - oh, except, you Did show his motives and morals, and they were in no way redeeming whatsoever! anakin had a whole ARC of complexity that allows for endless discussion on morality and justifiability that led him to earn his redemption. all kylo had was a blood tie to han and leia, which!!!! if anything!!!!!! made his motives and morals WORSE, knowing that he had the most IDEAL most loving and perfect upbringing and he still chose the dark side. that makes any love received from han or leia or luka or even fucking rey completely insignificant because we ALREADY KNOW what it means to him. all of this shit was so worthless!!!!!!!! fuck!

and i have a lot to say about rian johnson because i Cannot for the life of me believe the guy behind BRICK (2005) was taken on for tlj, WHILE TFA WASN’T EVEN FINISHED YET. i really didn’t think this had to be said but that is just NOT how you make a Trilogy. that is how you make Three Separate Films and guess what! that is exactly what we got! and it honestly saddens me to think that the guy behind the beautiful 6 minute music video ‘oh baby’ by lcd sound system, inspired by some of his greatest work in looper (and even brick!), would then take the absolute worst of his worst and apply that to a star wars franchise that desperately needed his best. and there’s something hilarious about that too, that you have this huge sandbox FULL of belief-suspending ridiculousness and STILL somehow make it fail? make it atrocious? that takes skill. it’s like that one post that was like “you have to ACTUALLY put EFFORT into making something this bad” like it’s no longer silly mistakes or lacklustre energy, this was ACTIVE sabotage.

the fact rian Had the Understanding of the core concepts of star wars right in his hands, but somehow completely missed the entire point of them? if you look at the films he screened to his story group during the development of tlj... this handful of culturally and historically significant war films that just seem like he screened for aesthetic and reference purposes only instead of actually exploring and analysing the importance and criticism of the exonerating war propaganda and racist source materials and using these films to inspire the actual groundwork of some of the root themes of current climates and today’s culture in a sw universe... i bet big bucks on the fact that twelve o clock high was only screened to inspire the air battle on crait (red salt planet) and because of ‘VIII Bomber Command’ because ha ha hee hee tlj is episode VIII and hoo hoo hoo *you’ve been gnomed.mp4*

the general rule is this: when reading ANY report on tlj and tros and something like “the characters came first” is mentioned, just exit out the window, it’s already a botched article/thinkpiece.

i’m also thinking a lot about how arndt translated his first draft for tfa into a script for eight months and said he needed 18 more, which disney and jj said no to, so he left, and IMMEDIATELY after jj kept saying how relieved he was that the release date was delayed and gave him more time that he also needed. like.. you had your lesson then and there. did they learn from it? *disney forcing rian to write tlj at the same time as tfa was still being made* No!

i am ALSO thinking about how they had considered fincher, brad bird, jon favreau, del toro, even getting development suggestions by spielberg.......... and rian johnson is who they called up for tlj.... my head is... empty.

just give the fucking thing to taika waititi he understands the nuances of the socio-political climates of sw’s narratives built around a guise of a fun sci-fi fantasy adventure-drama. he understands. that’s literally the very definition of his style of writing and directing. Makes You Think Why The Mandalorian Is A Hit.... they already gave him 2 mandalorian episodes just give him the whole franchise i cant take it anymore.

AND NOW THEY’RE GIVING RIAN JOHNSON A WHOLE NEW TRILOGY? RIAN? RIAN JOHNSON? THEY’RE GIVING HIM A WHOLE NEW TRILOGY AFTER WHAT HAPPENED... HERE. SURE.. OKAY . ALRIGHT. IT’S HONESTLY MIND-BLOWING. THE THOUGHT PROCESS THAT GOES INTO CONSECUTIVE DECISIONS SUCH AS THIS. like i would LOVE to see footage of the board meeting for this. no sarcasm i am GENUINELY curious to hear what was said to greenlight this. i have GOT to know what post tros board meetings about this will be like.

anyway! op of that post! i will be thinking about you when the new rj trilogy drops!

what’s worse about this whole trilogy is that.. they Had it. they had it in the bag with tfa. they HAD the original idea they HAD the power to make a sw trilogy set to current climates JUST LIKE THE PREVIOUS TRILOGIES DID, cos that’s what sw is all about! what it was ALWAYS about! a space opera reflective of current times and climates. but disney turned it into a Keeping Up With The Skywalkers reality tv show that’s nothing more than a sci-fi fantasy light show and vfx flex to keep the brand alive, and personally, i think that’s ultimately one of the reasons it’s so hated and why it failed (of course rampant misogyny/sexism, racism, homophobia under the guise of geek culture within the sw community and in the production itself is a whole other discussion and is another humongous part of why it’s hated and why it failed)

and it’s why hamill had every right to criticise tlj the way he did with rotj, why boyega and isaac and ridley had Every right to their commentary on their distaste of the second and third instalments. how the only reason they’d rescind what they said was due to their contracts. how their silence was necessary to squeeze every last dollar out of consumers because god forbid a potential boycott due to their own star’s “controversial” (Correct) judgements and disapprovals

they really had it in the bag..

a female protagonist who could be a chosen one regardless of her blood and family ties, a protagonist that reflected the importance and validity of found family, and the idea that Anyone can be a “Skywalker”, a symbol of hope and a fighter for justice and goodness and love in the world, especially in the darkest of times... a young woman being just as powerful, as Chosen, as essential as Luke and Anakin were... a narrative that couldve been commentary on the necessity of women needing to do double the work, make double the effort, to earn the same spot of her counterparts. and with the second and third instalments, especially NOW, with the growth and vocalisation of the MeToo movement, the narrative of strength to speak out against abusers, to fight back and to thrive, a symbol of justice, to teach that men such as kylo who refuse consequence, who actively and soberly choose violence and manipulation for the strengthening of the self, who will ignore and deny all opportunities to better the self, to know their guilt, to make up for their actions, are the ones who are irredeemable. that people like him are not owed any time or understanding or belief in, when that belief perpetuates the violent and oppressive nature they are indefinitely attracted to and make themselves defined by.

a black hero raised by violence and refusing to be defined by it and unlocking the force within as a symbol of that strength within over encompassing goodness, to have a hero that breaks that harmful narrative stereotype that black characters have had for decades and still continue to do so, to have a voice and a hero that fights with love and kindness, that is able to find family and support in a place beyond what he believes he is allowed to have, the significance of a hero being deemed a “traitor”, a term that holds weight in the shame of seeking your own independence and identity, versus the cathartic empowerment of thriving in the independence you make for yourself in the end. a black hero that defeats his oppressors, oppressors that belong to a policing fascist regime, a faction that has always from the very beginning been a depiction of nazis, of authoritarian nationalism.

a canonical gay latino man freedom fighter, being the best in his career as a literal symbol of hope for the resistance, a literal symbol of the climates for lgbt folk in regards to resisting those same fascist nazi regimes, resisting laws against lgbt existence, lgbt employability, lgbt success. a man who grew into a legacy of heroism, surrounded by it, something that could have been powerful poignant commentary on the necessity to sacrifice lives so others like his didn’t have to, the very narrative to fight for a world that the innocents and the ones he loves could have peace in, could have a future in, could Exist in. poe fights in the skies because he knew damn well the effect of believing in someone that is human, like you, instead of a force that is bigger than anything you could ever know or believe in. poe brings humanity and realism to an otherwise fanatical universe of magic and religion and chaos of endless war that means nothing, that is based on nothing. poe is commentary on fighting a fight that you have no choice but to fight, that you are forced to fight from birth just for the very act of Existing. his humanity and realism is a significant grounding necessity for our two protagonist heroes and it is appalling that he’d just be discarded the way he was, shallowly played off as sideline comic relief, much like lgbt narratives and characters are expressed in pretty much ANY media today, so it comes as no surprise.

the three most vital narratives that should have been told in this trilogy but no of course not (disney voice) gimme my Fackin MANEY. it’s the silence of marginalised voices cleverly disguised under hollow face-value representation.

honestly, even rey being blood-related to palpatine as his granddaughter was such a strong and perfect set-up for The Narrative That Could’ve Been TM, but instead they had palpatine make it a whole weird pseudo-marriage thing that was just so. backwards and unbelievably shocking that it was in a 2019 era star wars film.

wow marriage story and the rise of skywalker really is the same movie huh

yes we wanted a grey jedi protagonist hero that gets tempted by the dark side but this was the absolute worst way that could’ve been explored. like if they were just gonna recycle old characters and old storylines and make them worse they could’ve at least looked at darth maul or asajj ventress and the nightsisters

and NO WONDER oscar looked so DEFEATED every time finnpoe was mentioned cos he fought for that shit tooth and nail and they? ? ? they gave him a funny ha ha hee hee hoo hoo straight flirt scene? ? with like his ex or something, where they imply they get back together? COMPLETELY destroying the ENTIRE narrative of his character that was so lovingly built and developed in the Official Canon Comic Series About Him ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

NO WORDS. there are NO WORDS. head EMPTY. no not even empty there's NO HEAD at all i am BEHEADED

finn had NOTHING in this film. Nothing. how are you gonna make him a joint-protag with rey and give him Nothing?

anyone with brain cells knows that what finn truly was trying to tell rey the entire film was that he was force sensitive, i will take this to my grave, and that should’ve built up to this grand reveal where they empower each other and take down palpatine and kylo as one, as the joint-protagonists they were Literally Fucking Written And Built Up To Be. they gave EVERY antagonist to REY. what was the POINT. rey had her significant clash with kylo across two films, hell, even in this one (before the Final one), tros was the penultimate film about her family, her bloodline, so her significant final battle should have been with palpatine a la rotj. the person who DESERVED to clash with and take down kylo once and for all was FINN, even a TODDLER would understand WHY.

but considering everything, i would take the thing finn was trying to tell her the entire film being that he loves her ANY DAY if it meant whatever the fuck we got instead Never Happened.

finn got made general and not only was it a blink-and-you-miss bit but it adds NOTHING, yes it’s something to celebrate and of Course he deserves it, but it holds zero significance to him as a character. like i mentioned earlier, when han was made general, that never defined him. he was still han solo and it took a Dozen other significant scenarios and twists to make him a significant and vital memorable character. han solo isn’t known for “being a general”. he’s known for being han fucking solo, a critical puzzle piece in the taking down of the empire, a scamp-turned-deeply-loyal friend and lover, a man who not only got his own personal storyline concluded to the level it deserved to be (the repercussions of his bounty hunter life, the importance of the falcon, his relationships with lando, luke, and leia, his triumph over his captors even when it was luke and leia who freed him).

side note, this was maybe the one thing that tfa screwed up, the entire point and development of the original trilogy, it sort of felt a bit moot with how they put a “twist” on han, leia and luke’s relationship, especially when it came to kylo. but i think there are some forgivable aspects to it for the sake of the new trio, and that’s why those executive decisions kind of Worked! this is, of course, for another discussion bc this is about the new trilogy.

leia IS known for being a general because part of her entire storyline revolves around it and the significance of it!!! which is why finn being made general just feels so... i don’t know! just completely disrespectful, to both him as a character, and to generals who are defined by this position (such as, hello!!!!! poe!!! poe fucking dameron!!!! a man raised by the resistance!!! a man who’s entire life and prior legacy was entirely dedicated to the resistance!!!! him being made general MEANT something). it’s like rubbing salt in the wound of the fact that finn has been discarded as the protagonist he was meant to be, the story, development and conclusion he never got, just to slap general on him and call it a day and then write about his actual development in a novel that 3/4ths of the ppl who watch the films will never read.

and that's just the core story stuff!!! do NOT get me started on the general lore proposed in this shit. i’m talking about the force ghost nonsense and the convenience of some of the timing choices (rewriting the way death works in sw, claiming that rey “didn’t really die/wasn’t really dead” since she didn’t fade which in itself completely destroys the entire plot they were going for with the resurrection scene, the timing of the fades themselves bullshitted for “dramatic cinematic purposes”), the entire palpatine storyline, the bullshit with snoke and the lack of explanation, all these one-off characters that have the lore capacity of an overwatch character when instead they could have developed the ones that already existed and had the opportunity to be fleshed out and CARED about

the FACT that HUX (hux!!!!!!!!!) had a more interesting storyline in all three films with a total screentime of maybe 10 minutes than these one-offs whose only purpose is to stroke the cock of sw nostalgia seekers and lore aficionados. to make these characters so inaccessible that to fully appreciate them, fans have to dive into hundreds of different novels and comics and games and whatnot. like if you make it so that the Only way someone can experience a character’s full essence is by reading their wiki page then you’ve failed in creating them, in writing them, in including them, in using them, in whatever them. you’ve just failed as a creator.

and the ONLY reason hux got a reaction (a barebones reaction but a reaction nonetheless) out of me was because they essentially just turned him into phasma 2 which is SO telling of the climate of this trilogy.

it’s a recycled trilogy. that’s all it is. it’s a recycled series of films where tfa’s originality was completely entirely scrapped and ignored because rian wanted to write his personal fanfiction more than he wanted to continue the story he was given, and did everything he could to insert that whenever he could, and kennedy, of course, let him, because she realised giving herself indulging content other than fifty shades and radfem articles that she could jerk off to was more important than telling a critical story where its wonder and valuable, influential morals could’ve stayed in this generation’s minds for years to come.

if you want to watch tros just watch the prequel trilogy instead you'll get the same story except actually good.

#cmon THINK #star wars -----

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uas-fics · 5 years

Text

Title: Who Needs Sleep Anyway?

Summary: Kenny's been working long hours, so a Saturday date is just what he needs to relax.

Ships: Stenny

Rating: T

Request from spaceboi.craig on instagram

~~~~

Four and a half hours at City Wok, eight and a half hours at school, two hours rushing through homework, that's fifteen hours, not counting morning grooming and travel time.

Fifteen hour days all week.

Kenny had never been so thankful for a weekend. A weekend with a Saturday date on top of that almost made not spending the day sleeping worth it.

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. Even so, he was still tired. Slapping his cheeks might wake him up. Didn't he watch a Mythbusters episode on that once?

As he prepared to smack his cheeks, a voice called out his name.

A hand slammed firmly between his shoulder blades, nearly toppling him over.

“Oh, shit, dude, ” Stan gasped and grabbed his forearm, “are you ok?”

Kenny flashed a smile and a peace sign.

“I'm fine, Stan, my man, but you shouldn't go attacking people like that. Your jock strength is dangerous, ” Kenny teased.

Stan did not look amused. He fixed Kenny with a hard, probing look.

“When did you last sleep?” He demanded.

Kenny held himself firm with a deadpan expression.

“I got seven hours last night, ” he replied. That wasn't a lie, but it wasn't what Stan wanted to hear.

Kenny continued on, “I got plenty of sleep all week. Mr. Kim has been letting me work on my homework at City Wok when there is a lull, so I don't need to do it at home.”

That was a lie, but it pacified Stan enough that he backed off the subject, much to Kenny’s relief.

He would rather not start their date once again reminding Stan that Mr. Kim wasn't all that bad and if he hadn't let Kenny work under the table for the last few years, Kenny’s family would have starved.

Throwing an arm around Stan's shoulders, Kenny asked, “So, what's this date plan of yours and does it involve me driving Sweet Rig?”

Stan snorted a laugh.

“Sweet Rig” was Cartman's sarcastically given name to Stan's car, which all of Stan's friends lovingly adopted.

Sweet Rig was actually Stan's grandpa's car, handed down to him on his sixteenth birthday. The brakes squealed. The back passenger side door only opened from the outside. The whole vehicle shook when the speedometer needle was over fifty-five. It smelled like mold and cat urine and dust, guzzled gas like none other, and Stan coddled it like a newborn baby.

The tank never fell below a forth. He didn't allow food or drink inside. A trash bag waited under the back seat for muddy shoes, and every seventh, like clockwork, Stan checked the fluids.

Kenny batted his eyelashes and Stan pushed him away.

“Nope.”

“Damn, well, worth a try.” Kenny shrugged. “So what are we doing really?” He cast a glance around him.

The morning sun glinted off Stark's Pond. Little rivers of melted snow snaked across the dirt paths. The trees extended into the distance.

Stan puffed out his chest. “Hiking, ” he proclaimed.

Kenny couldn't help but wince.

“Hiking?” He repeated. Stan had to be joking.

Stan nodded. “Yeah, hiking.” For emphasis he turned the backpack Kenny just noticed he had towards his front.

“You see, ” he said as he began to unzip the pack, “the weather is supposed to be gross and windy next week, so I thought it would be a good idea to enjoy nature before then.”

For a moment, Kenny wondered if this was a test. Was Stan doing this to make Kenny fess up to being dog tired? If he did, would Stan give up the charade then drive them to the movies?

The admission sat on his tongue for a best, ready to come out, when Kenny remembered that this was not the first time Stan had done a date idea like this.

He did it before when he and Wendy were still together. It had been the first time he put his hand up a girl's shirt. Stan bragged about it for weeks afterward, earning the respect of his fellows.

Oh, I get it. Stan wants to get down and dirty in the woods, Kenny thought.

Out loud, he said, “oh, that sounds great. I'm game for some outdoor activities.”

If Stan noticed the inflection in Kenny's voice, he didn't show it. Instead, he nodded, pulling out a pair of worn hiking boots.

“Here, ” he set them in Kenny’s hands, “they'll work better than what you have.”

Kenny lifted his right shoe. The sole near his big toe came loose on Wednesday. He'd wrapped some duct tape around it, but when he got home, Kenny would have to super glue it.

Stan set a hand on his elbow and led him to the bench by the pond.

Kenny pulled out a boot’s tongue with a frown.

“Stan, I'm a size nine, this is an eleven,” Kenny told him.

Stan set his bag on the bench to dig around.

“I know, so I picked up some socks. Two pairs should work, you think? The pack has three, I think if two doesn't work.”

Kenny perked up from the bench seat as he untied his shoes.

‘Picked up’ had become something of a code word meaning ‘you can keep these afterward’ that Stan started using in an attempt to save Kenny some pride when he bought him a necessity.

Kenny didn't complain though. He could always use new socks, with how fast he wore out his.

“Oh, cool, thanks.” Kenny set his shoes on the bench beside him. As he did, he stole a glance into Stan's bag.

Gatorade bottles, granola bars, beef jerky sticks, but Kenny didn't see anything particularly useful for adult recreation. Maybe it was in another pocket.

“Damn it, ” Stan swore. “I forgot the socks in Sweet Rig. Do you mind waiting?”

Kenny shook his head. “‘Course not. Take your time, but, ” here he winked, “don't take too long, lover boy.”

Kenny took great pleasure in seeing Stan's cheeks turn pink.

“Um, yeah, be back.” Stan pointed towards the parking lot before jogging towards it.

Kenny snickered, then leaned back against the bench.

The sun warmed the wood, leaving it pleasent against him. The birds tweeted a lovely song. Ducks occasionally splashed in the pond.

He shut his eyes.

“Just for a moment, ” he muttered to himself.

If the weather really did get gross and windy as Stan claimed, then making a pleasant memory such as this was the best course of action.

After a few moments, his chin lowered to his chest, his breathing deepened, and Kenny dozed off.

~~~~~

On some level, Kenny knew he was dreaming. Somehow he always knew when he was dreaming.

But lucidity of the dream soon faded as the dream solidified into a scene.

He was on a nice couch, in a house he knew he owned— not rented, owned. The walls had posters of scantily clad people in many different poses that showed off their exposed skin.

On the shelves were knick-knacks and pictures of his family. Karen and Kevin were happy and his parents were sober.

This was his dream future.

When he was younger, the room would be filled with the people from his posters, but with age, the people had dwindled to one person laying under him.

He had his lips pressed to Stan's neck and Stan had his hands running up and down his back.

Sounds more wanton than anything Stan had made in real life escaped his mouth.

Kenny pulled back, admiring the string of hickies he’d left along Stan’s neck and collarbone. Stan’s hands stayed planted firmly on his lower back as he scooted to a sitting position.

He hugged Kenny, hurrying his face in his stomach.

“Good...Love you...” He murmured. Stan was sappy and clingy when they made out and Kenny loved it.

He raised his hand to stroke his boyfriend’s hair when a sharp pain resonated from his back.

Throwing back his head, Kenny let out a gasping scream as sharp claws dug into his flesh.

When he looked back down, Stan was gone, replaced by a thick, sinewy claw wrapped around him.

Its nails dug deeper into him as the claw rose up.

Soon Kenny found himself face to face with a creature of nightmares and madness.

Cthulhu’s skin stretched across his face like wet leather. His eyes burned with an orange, unworldly flame.

All around them strange architectures sprung up as did disfigure, unnatural monsters buzzing by like grotesque flies.

Cthulhu squeezed and Kenny bit down on his tongue to hold back another scream.

This creature was his nightmare and, in a sense, his equal. This was one of the few beings that could kill him forever —

His heart froze in his chest. His limbs felt like lead.

If Cthulhu killed him, he wouldn't come back. It would be The End. No rewind. No reboot. No return after the commercial break.

Just The End.

His cries fell quiet in his throat.

Another squeeze and he heard bones crack.

“...no...please...” He whimpered. “I'm happy. You can't do this to me when I'm finally happy.”

Kenny wanted to cry, to scream, to plead that it wasn't fair, that he was scared, that he didn't want this.

He shut his eyes, trying to calm his shaking.

The afterlife stopped scaring Kenny a long time ago, but having all he worked for taken away from him, leaving his love and family alone? That scared him stiff.

He waited for antagonizing moments for the great old one to squish him like a bug, but instead of killing him, Cthulhu turned his claw around and dropped Kenny.

Not once did he open his eyes to see the ground rushing towards him. His body went lax, like Kenny long ago taught it to do when it was one a collision course with a hard object.

The collision never happened.

A pair of arms wrapped around him. His head slumped against a chest. The sound of a strong, steady heart calmed his own.

Kenny had dreams of carrying quite, though he didn't know why. At least they were always a comforting dream.

Usually in his dream, either his mom or dad carried him. This time, the scent of cigarettes and beer didn't fill his nose. The scent of body spray, grass, and dog hair did.

Stan, he realized groggily.

If Kenny had more conscious control over his dreams, he might have wondered when Stan became so involved in his happiest fantasies, but he didn't, so instead, he wrapped his arms around Stan and snuggled close without ever opening his eyes. Curling up against Stan, Kenny let himself slip back to his earlier dream of the house and of a happy future.

~~~~~

Someone shuffling around under him woke Kenny up.

He blinked looking around.

The interior of Sweet Rig was all around him.

“Oh, shit, sorry, did i wake you up?” Stan yawned, stretching out. He too blinked the sleep from his eyes.

“What's going on? Did we go hiking?” Kenny readjusted himself more comfortably on Stan's lap, his feet hung over the center console of the front seat. He was still only in his ratty socks. Where did his shoes end up? Stan probably set them in the shoe trashbag.

“Nah, you passed out on a bench. I carried you to the car.” Stan explained. “I was going to take you home, but then you hugged me in your sleep.” He smirked. “It’s was pretty cute, dude.”

Kenny pressed his shoulder against Stan’s chest and smiled slyly. “Cute enough for a drive?”

“No.” Stan purposefully took the keys from the ignition and put them in his jacket pocket.

“Worth a try,” Kenny sighed dramatically. He continued, “So, how long was I out? An hour?”

The sun still shone outside, so at least he didn't sleep the day away.

“Try four,” Stan took an open Gatorade bottle from the drink holder.

“Four?!” Kenny gasped, twisting onto his stomach. “You let me sleep the whole fucking day? How can we go hiking if I’m asleep?” His hand grasped the door handle when Stan set a hand on his wrist.

“Dude, dude, dude, it’s fine. You needed it anyway.” Stan shook his head with a smile.

Kenny deflated before rolling back over. His shoulder blades pressed against the car door. The window handle stabbed into his back.

“But...the date...second base and all...” He trailed off, his mind going to the start of his dream.

“Second base?” Stan furrowed his brows. “What?”

“That’s why you wanted to go into the woods. Like you did with Wendy? To fool around?” Kenny’s shoulders slumped. “We could go now, but it’s afternoon, so there will be more people.”

Stan’s face went red. He shook his head. “N-no, no, that’s not my plan.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’d forgotten about that, actually.”

Kenny bolted straight, scraping his back against the door. “You forgot about the first time you groped boob?!” He was almost offended. How could anyone forget such an important milestone?

Stan hummed. “About that, I, uh, didn’t. Not completely.” Kenny fixed him with a confused look, so he went on, “She let me stick a hand up her shirt, but the second I touched her bra strap, I panicked and, um, didn’t go any farther.” He laughed nervously. “Don’t tell anyone, though.”

Kenny’s lips quivered. Snorts escaped his nose. He tried to hold it back, but the wave of laughter escaped nonetheless.

“Really? Really? Holy shit, dude! You went in for the long con on that lie. Remember how Clyde and I begged you to give an in-depth detail on how it felt? Did you just make all that up?” Kenny doubled over, holding his stomach. “Shut up, or were breaking up,” Stan threatened, shoving his hand over Kenny’s mouth. Even his ears were red now.

Kenny pushed Stan’s hand anyway. “Phew, ok, ok, I’m done.” He wiped away a tear. “Back on track, I really am sorry I fell asleep on you.”

Stan raised a shoulder. “It’s cool. You talk in your sleep by the way. Something about being happy and dying?”

Kenny pressed his lips into a line. He didn’t dare tell Stan about this dream in full. Years of dealing with his curse caused him to learn to appreciate it for what it was, a weird, unnatural secret that no one else needed to burden themselves with.

“Nightmare, I think.” Kenny shrugged back. “But it ended on a good note.” He pressed a kiss to Stan’s cheek. Stan wrapped an arm around his waist and hugged him.

Part of him wanted to stay in the front seat and keep snuggling the rest of the day, but the afternoon was so lovely, it would have been a crime to do so.

“I think,” Kenny said, reaching for the door, “I do what to go on that hike now”

#stenny #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #fanfiction #one-shot #south park

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theajaheira · 6 years

Text

i router, you giles

read it on ao3!

“Wifi,” said the dark-haired woman, holding a small tech-looking box out in front of her like it was some sort of birthday present. “Got any?”

In which Giles meets the new computer science teacher, Jenny is unapologetically combative, and Willow does her best to set them both straight. (It doesn't work.)

in the event that jenny calendar does show up in the btvs comic reboot, we are probably going to see her meet giles for the first time. and because i have my own thoughts about how that will play out, i wanted to make sure i wrote a fic about it before there’s any established canon.

doesn’t actually require any knowledge of said 2019 reboot--just that this is giles and jenny’s first meeting, now with modern tech thrown into the mix.

“Wifi,” said the dark-haired woman, holding a small tech-looking box out in front of her like it was some sort of birthday present. “Got any?”

Giles missed the British Museum, where his request for a lock on his door had been processed and accepted. “The library’s closed,” he said, in the annoyed-academic voice that generally got most of the children in this school to leave immediately. “If you could perhaps come back later—”

“Oh, no, this is totally a necessity,” said the woman, breezing past Giles as though the word closed wasn’t in her vocabulary. “See, the principal’s under the impression that this—” she blinked, squinting around in the dim light, “—musty old cave of antiquities is lacking a basic Internet connection, so I figured, hey, why not be a good neighbor—”

“Neighbor?”

“I’m in the classroom across from yours,” said the woman, giving Giles a small, bewildered frown. “I see you all the time. Are you telling me you’ve never noticed me?”

“I’m a bit busy,” said Giles, gesturing around at the books he had been shelving, “and I do not appreciate my work being interrupted.”

“Well, aren’t you just a laugh and a half,” said the woman, looking—amused? Giles was insinuating that he didn’t want her there, and she thought it was funny? “Anyway, you being a stuck-up snob totally isn’t the point right now—”

“I beg your pardon?”

“—my point,” said the woman, verging on impatience, “is that I brought you a wifi router. In this day and age, an actual internet connection is a total necessity.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want people to unplug themselves from their smartphones and actually read a book, now, would we?” said Giles waspishly. “Forgive me, Ms—whatever your name is, but I’m afraid I cannot condone adding a potential distraction to a place of studying. Please leave.” With a wince, he realized that this wasn’t very decorous of him. “I appreciate the offer,” he tacked on somewhat unconvincingly.

“You so don’t,” said the woman. Her eyes were narrowed. “And for the record, computers aren’t a distraction. They’re a tool. Have you ever used one, or do you just cast aspersions on anyone who does?”

“Oh, absolutely the second one,” said Giles, pulling out his flip phone for emphasis. “I see no need to muddle my mind with poorly sourced information and exorbitant amounts of social media.”

“Oh my god,” said the woman disbelievingly, “have I somehow stepped back into the nineties?”

“There were computers around then,” Giles began smugly.

“The 1890s, Rupert,” said the woman, giving him an extremely attractive grin. Giles very hastily replaced the revealing adjectives with annoyingly smug and glared back. “You know, you can rot your brain from academic elitism just as fast as you can from—ahem—” She cleared her throat, then said in a horrible British accent, “exorbitant amounts of social media?”

“I don’t sound like that,” said Giles indignantly. Then, “And my name is Mr. Giles, thank you—”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” said the woman. “I’ll call you Mr. Giles if you let me install wifi in your library.”

“Absolutely not!” said Giles immediately, infuriated. “How dare you blackmail me with informalities!”

“Well, how dare you insult me and my chosen profession!”

“You came into this library when there was a clearly marked CLOSED sign on the door—”

“I was trying to be friendly!”

“BY BRINGING IN THE INTERNET?”

“Okay, what is going on?” came Buffy’s voice.

Giles turned. Buffy, Willow, and Xander were standing in the open doorway, all of them watching the spectacle with expressions that suggested they’d been here for longer than he would have liked them to be. “She was attempting to install better Internet in the library,” he said, “and I told her that I wasn’t having any such nonsense.”

“Wait, the Internet is nonsense now?” said Willow, frowning.

“Rupert here thinks that everyone uses good wifi for flash games, dating sites, and Instagram,” said the woman, patting Giles on the shoulder. He jumped away and knocked over two stacks of books. “And I attempted to inform him that actually, the Internet is used for a lot of things when you’re not a dinosaur.”

Buffy looked extremely happy. Xander looked like he was trying not to laugh. Willow’s frown had deepened. “Well, Giles isn’t a dinosaur, Ms. Calendar,” she said, “and I don’t think it’s very mature of either of you to be acting like this. You two are my favorite teachers.”

“Her?” said Giles.

“Him?” said Ms. Calendar.

“Work it out,” said Willow, and led a beaming Buffy and a giggling Xander out of the library.

Giles considered this turn of events. Awkwardly, he said, “I—suppose I was a bit abrasive, initially. If Willow likes you, you can’t be as intolerable as you initially seemed.”

“Way to apologize,” said Ms. Calendar, looking completely unimpressed.

Giles snorted. “Am I supposed to grovel for reacting poorly to you forcing your way into my library?”

Ms. Calendar tilted her head, glaring at him. “You do know that the reason a school library needs Internet is for things like online research papers and collaborative study groups?” she said.. “A lot of the work that these teachers assign is done almost entirely online, and a lot of students are going to turn to the library for a good place to study between classes. The least you can do is make the library more accessible for the kids who are going to be using the Internet responsibly.”

“Or,” said Giles, refusing to feel guilty, “the least I can do is make the library more accessible for the children who want to come in here and read books, undisturbed by YouTube videos and, and, Myspace.”

“Have you ever touched a computer, or have you just read a lot of instruction manuals from 2009?” said Ms. Calendar.

Giles didn’t want to answer that.

“Anyway,” said Ms. Calendar. “I do not accept your apology, I think you’re a total asshole, and at some point, when you aren’t paying attention, I am going to sneak back in here and put the wifi router somewhere you will never find it. Kudos!” She patted Giles on the shoulder again (she had graceful fingers with sparkly, painted nails, not that Giles noticed) and headed out of the library without a backwards glance.

“I hate her very much,” said Giles to the books. It didn’t sound all that convincing.

The wifi router turned up seventeen times within the next two days, regardless of his attempts to remove it from the library. Giles had no idea how she was doing it, and strongly suspected that the children were helping her out.

#fic #calendiles #rupert giles #jenny calendar #anyway i am so glad my wife is alive and well in 2019 #this is short bc i literally wrote it today

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naferty · 6 years

Text

Part 7 is here!!

One thing Tony hadn’t considered when he accepted the help of the prince was the method in which the prince was going to lather him with the disenfectives. Paws weren’t exactly ideal, not when claws could accidentally cause more damage or the salve wouldn’t be placed properly.

As a panther it would’ve been difficult for T’Challa to work on four legs. Opposable thumbs was a luxury and proved to be a necessity on more than one occasion and now suddenly the blanket T’Challa brought with him made more sense.

Tony tried his hardest not to allow his eyes to glance over to the form of the prince kneeling next to him with only a blanket to cover his nakedness to the world. Instead he focused on the feeling of fingers trailing through his fur and caressing his skin. The medicine soothing the burn of his fresh wounds and the soft fingers relaxing his muscles.

The sensation had him nearly falling asleep and his weakness to touch had him going soft and pliant. If he had the capability he was sure he’d be purring right then. As it happened, he might or might not have been slowly melting under the prince’s hands.

He had a weakness. Living as a solitary tiger had its pros, less worry, no responsibilities to others, no other mouths to feed, but above all else solitary had its cons. No physical contact. No affection. No grooming. No gentle touches. No bonds. No pride strength. He was alone and the feeling of loneliness in moments of weakness hurt more than any wound he could ever receive.

He didn’t believe himself as someone to easily grow affection for another simply because he ran fingers through his fur, but as T’Challa gently lathered around his wrists with a care of easily breakable glass Tony could feel the affection bloom in his chest. It said something for a tiger to allow the fragile treatment, but Tony had been so starved of anything related to gentle treatment after being captured he couldn’t be faulted.

He wondered if T’Challa understood or even noted the importance of it.

The more the panther tended to his wounds the more Tony inched closer to falling asleep. Then T’Challa moved his hands to his flank and back and Tony was in pure bliss.

“You sustained more injuries than I have salve to use.”

Tony twitched his ear at the sudden sound disrupting his elation. He made the mistake of looking to T’Challa and got a trail of skin visible between the the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a well-toned chest for his troubles. Mouth suddenly dried he put a lot more effort than necessary to move his gaze to T’Challa’s face.

“As long as the big ones are taken care of. Don’t go using all your stock on me.”

T’Challa’s hand suddenly moved to lather on his neck. Tony prevented himself from flinching but gave himself away when his ears went flat down. He moved his head according to T’Challa’s movements to accommodate. At one point T’Challa had to use both hands to adjust and held his chin as he put pressure in order to pass through the fur. Tony stared at his face as he did so. The tongue sticking out slightly as he focused. The thought of grooming strong on his mind after seeing that.

The panther’s fingers ran over the fur of his cheeks and as if belatedly realizing what he’d been doing T’Challa finally met his eyes. For a brief moment time stopped and Tony wondered what the prince’s next move would have been had the sound of twigs snapping didn’t make them nearly jump apart. T’Challa retracted his hand and both of them faced the panther cub and wolf pup trying and failing to hide under bushes. The youngsters looking far too interested at what they were doing.

T’Challa wrapped the blanket tighter against himself and Tony did the sensible thing and stood to move his body in front of the panther, blocking the view. He gave the young pair an unimpressed look.

“How long have you both been hiding there?”

The panther princess peeked her head through the green and piped up. “Long enough.” The feline grin she had didn’t leave room not to worry.

Peter followed her and stuck his nose up, tongue hanging lazily out of his mouth. “We didn’t want to disturb you, Mr Stark. Looked like you were having a moment.”

If looks could scare.

“Mind coming out from there?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Shuri slithered out and stood tall. Her fur shining under the light of the sun. Peter didn’t slither but he gave a good attempt at it. His fur wasn’t as shiny but considering what they had gone through months prior it was practically sparkling compared to his fur’s previous state. He looked healthy and energetic and Tony sighed fondly at him. Carefree for the first time in so long. He couldn’t take that away from him.

“Did you both need something?” There had to be a reason why the two sought them out.

“No, we wanted to check you both weren’t dead. You were awfully silent.”

“What, were you expecting us to fight? Pretty sure your guards would be against me hurting a prince.”

“No, but plenty of other reasons to be quiet.”

T’Challa, now in his panther form, walked around Tony. “Such as?”

“I can’t possibly say.” Shuri made a show of looking around paranoid. “Far too many ears around us.”

T’Challa shook his head, ready to respond, but it seemed Shuri was not going to stick around for it. She jumped on her four legs and to Peter she said, “Race you to the top of the hill.”

Peter crouched down before taking off. “You’re on!”

And just like that they were both gone, leaving tiger and panther alone to wonder what all that was about.

“The energy of youth,” T’Challa said with fondness.

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you calling me old?” Which, rude.

“N-no! Of course not. I hadn’t meant to offend by it.”

The wide eyes and the taken back stance made Tony internally chuckle. A prince that stuttered. He never thought he’d ever see it in his life. Then, as if stuttering wasn’t enough, the prince actually froze and blinked at him. As if his mind was attempting to reboot.

Tony grinned. “No offence taken. I wouldn’t even know what to do with all that energy. I’m old and grumpy.”

The panther seemed to snap out of whatever notion he got himself in. “There is plenty to do with that much energy. You just need creativity.”

Now it was Tony’s turn to blink. If he didn’t know any better he’d assume the prince was flirting with him, and his eyes seemed to be half lidded.

It was a good thing he knew better. The prince was his owner and most likely didn’t have time to flirt with his property. Even if he did nothing would come out of it. Not unless the prince wanted a warm body for the night and Tony had no choice but to say yes.

Tony hummed and refused to respond. If he didn’t acknowledge it perhaps the prince would drop it. Instead he turned and got comfortable back on the ground.

Shuri ended up winning the race up the hill by using the branches and jumping to her advantage while Peter was stuck running on the ground. While he may have lost he hadn’t been upset by it. Not when he could finally run after being locked up for so long. To feel his legs burning from exertion and breathing heavily.

He flopped down on the ground when he finally reached her perched on the hill. “Next win is going to be mine.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” She wasn’t winded and she didn’t look even close to as tired as he was.

“Five minutes.”

“I’ll give you ten.”

“Thanks.” Peter breathed deeply during the time, trying to calm his heart, all the while Shuri sat upright for a moment before pacing in a circle around him.

“So,” she started casually, “my brother and Mr Stark.”

Peter grinned. “Do you think they know?”

“If they don’t they’re about to. The way they were gazing at each other. It reminded me of that lion film and the love song it played. They’re practically begging for it to be their song.”

“Lion film?” Peter perked up.

“Have you not watched it?” the panther tilted her head.

“I live with my pack hidden in the forest away from humans. I’ve seen a few films from what we manage to get, but they’re usually not priority. My uncle tells me to focus on staying hidden.”

“I see. Sounds sad.”

Peter shrugged. “Plenty to do with the pack every day. Not that it’s always fun, but we survive.”

Shuri circled one more time before curling up next to him. “Is that how all shifters live where you are from?”

“Not all. Only those who live as their animal form. It’s easier to live hidden like that and have humans keep walking. There’s some who try to live as both and even manage to make small villages deep within forests. They have electricity and technology and everything.”

“Do you live as your animal only?”

“Yeah. Electricity makes it easier for humans to track us so we try to avoid that.”

“Is that why you don’t shift even now? You and Mr Stark?” It was a sad thought, and made sense now that Shuri thought about it.

Peter nodded. “We live in a forest. Mr Stark on his own but he’s a friend of my pack. He helped me when I got seperated from my aunt and uncle one day, and tried to stop the poachers from taking me. They got us both instead.”

“How long ago was this?” How long were you captured.

“What day is it?”

“Seventeen of September.”

Visible sorrow appeared in Peter’s eyes. “More than half a year ago. Aunt May and Uncle Ben must be worried sick.”

“You’ll return to them,” Shuri said with utmost certainty. “I meant what I said. We wish to help and that means returning you to your home. Wherever that is.”

“Thank you.”

Shuri made a quick move to bump her head against Peter’s in affection before pulling away and standing again. “Now. I can’t believe you haven’t watched that lion film. Tomorrow I’m bringing a whole set up and we’re going to sit and watch it and when that scene comes out you’re going to help me play it out for my brother and Mr Stark.”

Peter hopped to his feet as well. “I can’t wait.”

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part8)

@xissa-chanx @bornwithgasolineheart @societyslostone @aliceinawesomeland @seven-oomen @not-the-cavalry @gabriel-r3ap3r-reyes @msmynx @sodoyoufondueme @damej @gentlemanspygalahad @lighthearted-liv @meghatron12337 @the-ice-goddess @fullheartedlyprovocative @breyito @llaladonna @caped-ace @can-i-be-your-alice @writingstealer @batfamily-stark @harryrockz777 @larissaloki @ninacloverfield @wateriiterro @avengingphoenix @hurricanesass @kaci1ynn @arellaroth @inkblackfingers @hestia-sama @caffinatedtrashcompacter @itsall-taken @olevereidna @im-an-indoor-person @0dannyphantom0 @zessagirl @drarrydarling @beautiful-rave

#text post #long text post #ironpanther shifter au #lost and found au #ironpanther #tiger tony stark #panther t'challa #panther shuri #wolf peter #what better way to promote birthday fic than posting it on the main character's actor's birthday #happy birthday to all!!#naferty writes #peter and shuri

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maevefiction · 6 years

Text

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 8

I managed to wake up on time, despite the fact that I’d forgotten, yet again, to set my alarm. After putting on my glasses, I padded over to the dresser to grab my phone. I checked my notifications as I crawled back under the covers and saw there were four texts waiting for me, three of them from Tom sent late last night.

Meeting’s finito. They dragged us out for drinks. It’s 3:00 AM. I want to see you. – T

Mean Nanny Luke says it’s too late and he hid your room key from me. Asshole. – T

We meeting again with Skull people again at 11 morning tomorrow. 3:17. Bed. Night. – T

I figured he’d still be out cold and I was overwhelmed by the urge to ring his phone and rouse him unpleasantly, solely for my own amusement. I resisted, telling myself that he surely would have turned it off prior to retiring for the night. So tempting, but I decided to take the high road instead.

Good morning, Thomas. Hope you and Luke managed to get some rest and that the meeting goes well. Looking forward to seeing you both later. – M

The fourth was from Anne, sent fifteen minutes ago.

Hey kiddo, I’d love it if you’d give me a call. It’s been entirely too long since we last talked. – A

While it wasn’t a complete surprise to hear from her, given Luke had spoken with her yesterday, I honestly hadn’t expected it to happen so damn soon. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I closed my eyes for a few moments, exhaled and decided to postpone dealing with it and order breakfast instead.

My stomach grumbled as I reviewed the room service menu, my index finger tapping my lips. I grabbed the in-room phone and dialed, and my call was answered on the first ring by an obnoxiously pleasant-sounding woman.

“Good morning, Ms. Gallagher. What can we get for you today?”

Funny, they hadn’t a clue who I was when I’d ordered in over the weekend. I guess Tom Hiddleston answering your door when a meal for two was delivered elevated one’s social status.

“Good morning to you as well. May I please have an order of Belgian waffles with bacon, a large orange juice and a cup of tea? Earl Grey if you have it, sugar and cream on the side. Thanks!”

There was dead air for a few seconds. “Will that be all?” I rolled my eyes. Subtle, lady, really subtle. Sorry to disappoint, but he’s not here at the moment.

“Yep, that’s if for now, thank you.”

“Your meal should arrive in approximately twenty minutes. Aloha!”

I re-read Anne’s text and sighed, running a hand through my hair. If I called her now I could use the arrival of my meal as an excuse to get off the phone, though twenty minutes could seem like an eternity if the conversation turned to a topic I didn’t care to discuss, which it always seemed to do.

“Come on, Maude. Like a Band-Aid, right off. Pee first, then call. That should waste at least two minutes, more if you walk really slow.”

After the bathroom, I sank down into the oversized wing-back chair, phone in hand. My heart began to pound as I located her in my contacts, under ‘L’ for Lestat because it amused me to no end when ‘Lestat calling…’ came up on my screen. Anne had been a part of my life since I was ten years old. In 1988, only a few months after my parents had moved into the neighborhood, she’d returned to the Garden District of New Orleans. After rejoining the Catholic Church she met my father, a devout Irish Catholic himself, and they became fast friends.

She’d been a friend to me as well, offering unwavering support and becoming my lifeline during some incredibly difficult times. One of the hardest decisions I’d ever had to make was distancing myself from her emotionally in order to force myself to move on as I tried to heal. Though it had been a necessity, I still felt terrible about it, and I deeply missed having her to turn to for comfort.

My hands clenched and grew clammy as the pounding of my heart morphed into a dull, throbbing pain. I silently vowed to cut her off immediately if our chat veered into the past and hit the ‘call’ button.

“Maudie, honey! You took the job!” I wondered how the fuck she knew that already, then remembered she followed my twitter account and must have read the letter I linked to last night.

“Yes, Anne. I took the job. Though I wasn’t looking for one. And thanks for your glowing recommendation. Which established preconceived expectations that I will never be able to fulfill, by the way.”

“You will not only fulfill them, you will exceed them. Never underestimate your abilities, Maudie. You know better. So who is this Luke fellow? Is he as handsome as he sounds?”

I tipped my head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to prepare myself for the onslaught of Matchmaking for Maude that was about to ensue. “He is indeed.”

I could picture the sly grin that had surely spread across her face. “So? Is he single?”

“No, Anne. He’s actually engaged.”

“Well, you’re very attractive and, you know, anything can happen…”

“And he’s gay.” I thought that would do the trick. It didn’t.

“You have to introduce him to Christopher.” At least I wasn’t the only victim of her matchmaking…she’d been trying to find Mr. Right for her son as well as me forever.

“I haven’t met his fiancé but I hear they’re deliriously happy. So what’s new with you? How’s my next Lestat installment coming along?”

“I’m still researching some things, but the initial draft is essentially complete. You know, I Googled up Prosper PR and went to the facebook page and that amazingly talented actor, what’s his name…right, Tom Hiddleston, is one of his clients. I would love for him to take on the role of Lestat when the reboot of the Vampire Chronicles gets underway. Will you be working with him? Plant that seed for me, will you? Hmm, maybe he’s single?”

The thought of Tom as Lestat de Lioncourt rendered me mute for a solid thirty seconds, followed by lord knows how many more as I attempted to figure out how to weasel my way around her last question.

“Maudie, are you still on the line?”

“I…erm…yeah. Still here. Sorry, I was…multitasking. I have no idea if he’s single or not.” I was grateful that she couldn’t see my face because she’d know I was full of shit if she got one look at me. “But yes, I am working with him. I’m starting as his social media manager, which he desperately needs because he has issues with keeping his existing accounts updated and his overall presence is lacking, to say the least. Once I’ve gotten him back on track I transition into the role of social media director for Prosper. But please keep that between us. We haven’t announced anything yet, though we’re meeting tonight to discuss timelines and such.”

She chuckled, and I cringed, realizing that she still knew me entirely too well. “No idea if he’s single or not my ass. Don’t lie to Auntie Anne. You’ve already met him, haven’t you? And he’s a component of the ‘we’ and ‘we’re’, isn’t he?” I said nothing. “That incredibly long pause, in conjunction with your use of ‘am’ as opposed to ‘will be’ working with him gave you away. So, is he as beautiful in person as he is on film? And is his personality as lovely as it appears to be in interviews?”

There was a knock at the door, and my gratitude for the delivery person’s impeccable timing was boundless. “Sorry, my breakfast is here and I have to dash becau…”

She cut me off. “Maude, I did want you to call so I could congratulate you, but I also wanted to speak with you about something else. Your mother…”

I could feel every muscle in my body tensing. “Anne, how many times have I told you that I will NOT disc…”

“Please, hear me out. Her health is failing, Maude.”

“All those years of sucking down bottle after bottle of booze finally catching up with her?” The venom in my voice caught me completely off guard. As much as I insisted to myself that it was all behind me, the reality was that it was always with me, here, in the now… lurking just below the surface, ugly and dark and awful.

“I know, Maude, I know. And I hate to bring it up, but she’s in hospice and, well, I felt compelled to tell you in case you wanted to see her. Before it’s too late.” I counted to ten before I responded, focusing on all the positive things she’d done for me, hoping I could end the call courteously.

“Anne, I have to go. Be well.” I hung up before she could reply…and, thankfully, before I said something I’d wind up regretting.

************************************************** Breakfast was eaten in silence, but I’d showered and gotten ready with my iPod cranking out tunes from my ‘Fuck Off’ playlist. I’d even done a passable job on covering up the hickey. I frowned when I glanced at the clock. It was only 8:15, and I knew I had to keep moving or I’d start thinking again. As I stood on the balcony, gazing out at the azure water rolling in and out, I determined that a walk on the beach might be an ideal distraction.

Shoes in hand, messenger bag slung across my chest, I wandered down as far as I could go without getting soaked by the lapping waves. I breathed in, then out, in, and out, ever so slowly, trying to match the rhythm of the ocean. The sun warmed my face, my hands, my feet, my body…but it couldn’t quite reach into my heart. I closed my eyes and lowered my chin to my chest, using nothing but the sheer force of my will to shove the anger and pain back in the box I’d crafted for it so long ago.

I remained stock-still until the tide of somber memories began to ebb, carrying them further and further away from me, back into the turbulent sea of my past…where they fucking belonged. Always a part of me, but no longer controlling me.

My eyes opened slowly as I raised my head, and I bent down to pick up a handful of sand, letting it sift through my fingers, just as I had less than forty-eight hours before. Everything I’d overcome, the life I’d made for myself, and the promise of what was to be hit me all at once and I could feel the corners of my mouth curl up in a tiny smile. I stood, took one last look at the ocean, then turned around and headed for the conference room.

I checked my phone as I slowly worked my way down the hall, deleting five new texts from Anne without reading them. Nothing from Tom, which I fully expected. He was probably still sound asleep, all cozy and warm. Bastard. I put the phone away and pulled out my tablet to check my email, cursing myself for not doing so since Monday afternoon. One hundred and fifty-eight messages in my inbox. Fuck. I scrolled down as I walked, starring items that were urgent, until I collided with another body. My tablet went flying, landing on the floor behind me. I bent to grab it without looking up, apologizing.

“I am SO sorry…totally my fault. Reading and walking is not my forte, apparently.” I turned as I rose, and the device fell from my hands and back onto the floor as I realized just whose body I’d run into.

He was wearing black shorts, a white T-shirt and a black sweatshirt that he’d left unzipped, the hood up over his head. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but he quickly removed them as he spoke softly. “Good morning.”

He leaned down and picked up my tablet, slipping it into my messenger bag before encircling me with his arms. I slid mine under his sweatshirt, ran my hands up his back ever so slowly, finally coming to rest on his shoulder blades.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted to see you, but what in the ever-loving fuck are you doing up and about? It’s only 8:30. You’ve got another hour and a half to sleep, at least.” He bent to kiss me instead of replying, parting my lips gently with his tongue, then delving in to explore as his hands fell to my hips and pulled me against him. He was commando again, and rock hard. I groaned and broke the kiss, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Christ, do you even own a pair of underwear?” He laughed, then flinched. I slipped my right arm out from under his sweatshirt and gently grabbed his chin as I inspected his face. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes that made him look bruised. “You appear to be significantly worse for wear since we last met, sir. Do I need to have a word with the gentlemen from Legendary?”

He began rubbing small circles on my lower back with one hand. “Honestly, I’d seriously consider having you stand in for me at today’s meeting if you didn’t have prior obligations.” He took the hand that held his chin and brought it to his lips, then sighed. “They just kept buying round after round…Luke and I could barely keep up. We got mortifyingly clobbered at pool and darts. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

I fished a bottle of water from my bag and offered it to him. “Here. Drink.” He stared at me, pouting.

“But I’ll have to let go of you in order to open it. And I don’t want to.” I shoved it back in my bag. He brought me in closer, bending to nuzzle my neck. “I hope my late night texts didn’t disturb your rest.”

“I didn’t hear a thing. Wish I had, though. I would have told you to get your ass up the stairs and into my bed.” He snickered, and I felt his teeth tug at my earlobe. I wiggled my hips against him. “Thank you for the note, by the way.”

He pulled back to look at me and smiled timidly. “Did you like it?”

“No.” His eyes widened, and I stood on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I loved it. So much so that I held it in my hand while I slept.” He grasped the back of my neck, fingers easing into my hair as he pressed his lips to mine, both of our mouths falling open, tongues colliding. I sucked on his lower lip, sliding my leg up to wrap around him as he bucked against me. We froze at the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly. I leaned sideways to peek around Tom and found Serena staring back at me.

I wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand, then wiped my hand on my tunic as I stepped away from Tom. He took it in his and turned around to face her with me. My brow furrowed as I wondered what the fuck one was supposed to say in this sort of situation. Should I apologize? Should I pretend it hadn’t happened? It appeared that Tom had no clue, either. Serena burst out laughing and patted me on the shoulder.

“Good morning, Maude. I should probably give you a lecture and tell you to get a room, but I won’t because my god, the two of you are just so adorable. Dante’s loading the rest of our equipment onto the dolly. He should be here in a sec.” She opened the doors of the conference room, engaging the stoppers so they’d remain that way, then entered and began rearranging a few pieces of furniture.

I turned to Tom, shaking my head. “Public indecency. Told you so. I’m a ticking time bomb.” He smirked.

“I’m afraid I must leave you to your work, Maude. It would appear that something’s come up and needs my immediate attention.” He pulled at his shorts, adjusting himself as he whispered in my ear. “Though it would most certainly prefer your attention.” I pinched his nipple, delighting at his gasp.

“No one likes a tease, Thomas.” Dante was quickly approaching. I sighed. “On with the show, I guess.”

Tom pulled me to his chest and kissed my forehead. “Last one. And then you’re all mine.”

I poked his chest. “You need to go right now or I’m going to disappoint two hundred people when I run off with you.” He grinned. “Good luck with your meeting. I’ll see you at 4:15. Be ready to hula.”

“Oh, I’ll be ready. And I’ll bet you dinner that you can’t get Luke to join in.”

“Well, in that case, you’d better make sure there’s lots of room on your credit card, sunshine.”

“Not necessary. Won’t ever happen.” He waved as he turned and walked down the hall. I called after him.

“You are so very, very wrong.” I watched him go, biting down on my thumb. Sex on legs. Absolute truth. Serena spoke from behind me.

“Maude, Dante needs you to stand on a few marks.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

“If he happens to come back before we leave, would you mind terribly if I asked him for a pic with me?” A light blush colored her cheeks. I laughed, shaking my head.

“Nope. Not one single bit.”

************************************************** It seemed as if it was over as soon as it began, and I even managed to keep my shit together when the attendees gave me a send-off standing ovation at the end of the last lecture hour. Though my emotions were mixed about being done with something that had kept me going for so long, I couldn’t help but feel…free.

Tom had stopped in during our first break, transformed from hung over frat boy to runway model after a hot shower, a huge breakfast and a gorgeous charcoal bespoke suit. He hadn’t worn a tie, and his white dress shirt was open at the neck. It took five tries on my part to get a decent shot of him and Serena, mainly because she kept looking at him instead of the camera, but my shaking hands factored in as well. I’d need to get over that shit pronto if I was going to be on photography duty for the foreseeable future. She asked if she could post it online, and I told her it was fine as long as she didn’t include location details.

It was 4:08 when I got back to my room, leaving me just enough time to change into my hiking shorts and vintage X-Files T-shirt. I did a little happy dance at the prospect of being able to spend more time in casual clothes…I’d amassed quite a collection of graphic tees over the years that I hardly ever got to wear, and now that a good portion of my work would be behind the scenes, I could.

“Well, that’s a fucking plus I hadn’t even considered. Comfy clothes, baby. Bring it on!” I ended the dance with a fist in the air as I entered the bathroom. I put my hair up in a ponytail, not even bothering to brush it first. My black Rio Birkenstocks were nowhere to be found, and, thinking about it, I hadn’t seen them since Monday. After tearing the rest of room apart, I spotted them in the little open cubby under one of the nightstands where Tom must have tucked them when he did my laundry. I strapped them on, grabbed my wallet, keys, phone, and iPod from my bag and stuffed them in my pockets, making up a little song as I danced some more.

“I love pants with pockets and I can wear them all the time and that is fucking cool because…shit. Because I’m a mime? Because I like to rhyme? Damn, I used to be GOOD at this. Ah, fuck it. POCKETS!”

One of the things I abhorred most about dress clothing was the lack of pockets. Carrying any type of bag made me feel weighed down, plus they always either fell off my shoulder or smacked me in the ass as I walked, yet I had stuff that needed to be stored somewhere. Men’s pants had the best pockets, and I often opted for those over the women’s version.

I took a last look at my reflection in the mirror. “Off you go, Maude. New chapter and all that.” I opened the room door and meandered down the steps, hand trailing along the rail. Tom and Luke were waiting for me outside their suites.

I flung my arms out to the side. “Who’s ready to HULA?!”

Luke groaned, rolling his eyes as Tom raised his hand and shouted, “I AM, I AM!”

I put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Come on, Luke, let your hair down a little.” He snorted.

“I tried that last night and found it to be rather disadvantageous.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Tom smirked at me and mouthed ‘this is a bet you cannot win’. I threw him double birds. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys to his rental car dangling them in front of me.

“Shall we?” I shook my head.

“Let’s take my Jeep. Feel the breeze. Be rugged.” Luke held up his hand.

“Please, no. The jouncing around might kill me.” I huffed.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way. But if the car has an auxiliary jack you might be sorry I acquiesced.”

He was indeed sorry, as Tom and I sang the entire 11 minutes it took to get to the Kaua’i Museum. Towards the end of Pharell’s ‘Happy’ he appeared to be contemplating opening the door and leaping into traffic.

“I’m not sure what’s making me more nauseated…the hangover or the two of you caterwauling up there.” I reached back to pat his knee.

“I promise I’m not always this obnoxiously elated, Luke. I’m just on a quit-my-old-job-today-and-have-a-super-cool-new-one high. It won’t last.”

He nodded his head. “Mmm hmm. And I’m sure it has nothing to do with our chauffer.”

I glanced over at Tom, put my hand to the side of my mouth and looked back at Luke, whispering. “He is awfully pretty, isn’t he?” He rested his head in his hands as the car made an abrupt right turn into the museum parking lot.

It was a lovely place, located on Rice Street in the Albert Spencer Wilcox and William Hyde Rice buildings. Hula classes were conducted by members of the Daughters or Hawai’i in the courtyard, as the museum itself closed at five. There were a total of eleven of us, and just as Tom predicted, Luke immediately sat on the sidelines while the rest of us gathered around the instructor. Her name was Iolana and she appeared to be in her late fifties. As she explained that hula is a dance accompanied by a chant (oli) or song (mele), the dance portraying the words in a visual format I stared at Luke and tapped my foot.

Iolana asked us all to move behind her, at least three feet apart, and I flung my hand out at Luke and then pointed to the open space next to me. He shook his head. I pouted. Then I put my hands together, silently begging, mouthing ‘please?’ while batting my eyelashes. No way in hell was I losing this bet. He sighed, put his chin on his chest and hefted himself out of the chair to join us. I turned to Tom and stuck my tongue out. He shook his head and stepped closer so he could whisper in my ear.

“He hasn’t actually danced yet, Maude.” I slapped his arm.

We were instructed to stand with feet apart, left knee bent and our hands on our hips, then step with our left foot and slide our right foot next to the left, bending that knee. The process was repeated in the opposite direction. After we mastered the steps, it was time for some hip action…raising it in time with and in the opposite direction of the step, keeping both knees bent. Iolana turned to check our progress and immediately went to Luke, putting her hands on his hips and pushing them in the correct direction. I turned to Tom and grinned. He shook his finger at me.

“He’s not using his hands.” I rolled my eyes. Iolana had moved back to the front to continue the lesson. One arm bent at the elbow in front of the body, the other extended out from it in the direction of the step, head facing that way as well, fingers together and hands moving at the wrists like a wave. Again, the process was repeated in the opposite direction when moving that way.

Iolana taught us a few more arm motions and explained what they meant, advising that they were only the chorus of a mele called Eleile, which we’d be ‘telling’ over and over for the duration of the class, then turned on the music. I glanced at Luke, then turned to Tom and started doing alternating wave motions rapidly with my hands in front of me. He tilted his head.

“That doesn’t look like a legitimate hula hand motion, Maude.” I grinned.

“It’s not. Do you want to know what it means?”

“No.”

“Sure you do. It’s my visual interpretation of ‘you lose, sucker’.” I thumbed in Luke’s direction. He was dancing, and it looked like he might even be enjoying it a little. Tom hung his head in defeat, and I tried to refrain from drooling as I watched him roll his hips. I kept missing steps and had to close my eyes in order to focus. The tempo of the music increased, and without the distraction of keeping an eye on Luke or ogling Tom I completely lost myself in the dance. It was an incredible feeling, moving faster, back and forth, the rhythm and motions of my body conveying this brief chapter of a story via a method that had been used for generations, dating back to ancient times when indigenous peoples worshiped volcano goddesses.

I heard clapping, faint at first but louder as more people joined in. I opened my eyes, discovering that I was the only one still dancing other than Iolana. And that everyone was staring at me. I stopped. A huge grin spread across her face.

“Miss, where did you study hula, if you don’t mind my asking?”

I swallowed. “I’m Maude. And, just here. I’ve never done it before.”

Her eyes widened. “Well, Miss Maude, it’s very unusual for someone to catch on so quickly, especially a first-timer. I guess you’re just a natural.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “You dance beautifully, my dear. I’m sure your boyfriend would agree.” She smirked knowingly at Tom, then began to circulate amongst the other participants, stopping to speak to Luke first.

Boyfriend. Is that what he is? I turned to face Tom, and what I saw in his eyes was overwhelming. Desire, passion, admiration, awe, joy, and something else that I didn’t think I was ready or willing to hang a name on quite yet. I waved self-consciously.

“Hi there.” I watched him take several deep breaths, and I noticed he had his phone in his hand.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, did you film that?!” He nodded. I groaned and covered my face with my hands. He pulled them away gently, and now that he was right in front of me I could see his eyes shone with tears.

“Sorry. My original intent was to video Luke so I could email it to Simon, which I did, but then you…and I had to. It was one of the most breathtaking things I’ve ever seen. Here, watch it.” I shook my head.

“Nope. Maybe later.” He reached out to touch my face, fingers feathering over my cheekbone and down to my jaw.

“Alright. Later. But I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. The rest of us, we were just moving. But you, you told a story. An ancient, timeless story.” He waved to get Iolana’s attention. She excused herself from her chat with two older ladies and came over to us.

“Hello, Iolana. I’m Tom.” She shook his proffered hand. “Do you happen to have an English translation of the chorus you taught us today?”

“Yes, I do. Right up here.” We followed her to the table that held her portable stereo and paperwork. She pulled a sheet out of a purple folder. “I’m so pleased you’re interested in learning more. An hour is such a short period of time and I have to focus intently on the dancing, so I rarely get to talk about the song itself. This is the chorus of the mele. Eleile is a dark swirling pool on Maui, also known as the water that returns the ti. It is customary to break a ti leaf stalk and throw it into the pool. As the water swirls, the leaves are unfurled, then pushed back into a long, tight bud.” She handed it to him. He read it, then passed it to me without saying a word. I read it. Then I re-read the chorus again. And again.

Dark is the water of Eleile The cold dwelling place of the mist It is made warm by love That stood close at my side

I felt his hand on my forearm. I refused to look away from the words on the paper. He spoke, voice fraught with emotion he struggled to contain.

“Looks like you were telling our story.” My hands were shaking, eyes still fixed on the mele chorus. He put his on top of them, steadying me. “When you danced…I swear I could see your soul. And oh, how it called to me, Maude.”

Silence surrounded us, and as I raised my gaze I noted that everyone was staring at me. Again. I inhaled, then let it out with a whoosh as my eyes found his. I still couldn’t quite manage to form words. He took a step closer to me, moving his hands to my shoulders.

“I know it’s only been two days since we met, and that you’ll very well likely think me certifiably insane for saying this, and perhaps I am, but every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do so and sometimes you just have to fight your fears and say fuck it, come on, so…Maude, I am totally, completely, utterly, madly in love with you.”

My mouth dropped open, then closed as I bit my lower lip. Right. Fight my fears. Sure. Fuck it, why not? I shrugged. “Well, Thomas, in that case we’d best pick out some matching straitjackets because I, too, have clambered aboard the crazy train. Wildly, wholly, entirely, absofuckingloutely in love. With you.”

He kissed me, briefly, sweetly. The tiny crowd oohed and ahhed, then began to disperse. As we said our goodbyes and thanks to Iolana Luke came over, phone raised, smiling. I rolled my eyes.

“Let me guess. You filmed all of that. What is with you people?” He laughed, and I shook my head. “Well, now we have even more details to discuss. And I want pizza. Can we get pizza? Let’s get pizza. LOTS of pizza. Tom’s even buying. Right, Tom? Or was all this a distraction so you could welsh out on our bet?”

He put his arm around my waist and kissed the top of my head as we exited the courtyard. “You can’t blame me for trying, can you?”

Luke’s eyes narrowed. “What bet?”

I looked at Tom. “You tell him.”

He shook his head. “I’m not telling him.”

Luke ran in front of us, stopped, arms crossed. “Someone had better tell me.”

We remained silent and walked around him to the car. Luke groaned as he got in. “Already conspiring against me. Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’m going to order ten fucking pizzas, just for spite.”

He took out his phone, clicked something, and the sounds of hula music filled the vehicle.

“Thomas William Hiddleston, did you send Simon a video of me doing the hula?” Tom started to chuckle.

“Me? Why on earth would you think I’d do such a thing?”

Luke snorted. “Because you fucking did, that’s why. Hmm, I think I’m starting to see how this went down. Your bet involved whether or not I’d dance. Maude suckered me into it and won. Tom, I’m going to kick your ass when we get out of this car. Maude, I’m impressed. Mildly disappointed in your behavior, but impressed just the same. And Simon says to tell you you’re a wonderful dancer.”

I turned to see Luke’s phone, hoping to catch a glimpse of Simon’s face. I got lucky…it was his lock screen background, or so I assumed. “Is that Simon?” He nodded and passed me the phone. “Damn, Luke, he’s gorgeous.” Luke grinned.

“Even more so in person. You’ll get to meet him tomorrow. He’s flying out to stay for a bit. In the beach house we’ll all be sharing.”

I turned to Tom, tilting my head quizzically. “Um, beach house? What beach house?”

He smirked, then shrugged. “What can I say? The meetings with the Legendary people went well. Really, really well.”

#your light in the mist #chapter 8

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