#i had this in the drafts since march ehe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladyazulina · 1 year

Text

Mimi: Wip Page

Status: Drafting (#4) [Hiatus]. Genres: Mystery, Mental Health, Overcoming. Project started: 06 | 06 | 2021 (apparently). Current word count: 24.4k [33.7k in the Spanish version]. Trigger Warnings: Abusive and Violent Environment, Panic and Anxiety Attacks, Intrusive and Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Depression, Car Accident (detailed mention), Death and Mourning, Loss of a Loved One, Suicide Attempts.

Title: Mimi

Subtitle: Surviving Dreams

Author: Lady Azulina

Synopsis

Mimi Milan doesn't have normal dreams, instead, she can dream with people she knows and discover their true faces, without filters. This is how she knows that no one is to be trusted because everyone always has ulterior motives, even her family.

But her dreams also have a dark secret. If she gets injured in them, her injuries remain on her body when she awakens and she has to deal with them regardless of severity.

When her dreams start to turn violent, can Mimi find a safe way out?

Writing Process

How it all started?

I have no idea.

No! For real. I know why it started, but how? I’m not really sure.

Okay, then.

WHY it all started?

I needed an outlet for all the toxic thoughts I was having, to overcome some bad habits to be free to work on my mental health (though I didn't know that part was coming at that moment), and I saw that an author –I don't even remember who was– said that their writing was a healing process.

And I thought, "Why can't be the same for me?".

It has been years since then, considering that I started the very first draft in March 2021, according to the date of the document I have.

[I need a parenthesis here to let you all know that my year starts on December 20th and finishes on December 19th, I don't track my years with the world year (like, 2023 right now) but my year (24 right now), so in my registers there will be two Decembers, one at the end of the year that goes from the 1st to the 19th, and the other starting the next year on the 20th and until the 31st.

Instead of using the world year (like 2021 before), I will be using my year (22 in that case), but I will do my best to also put the world date so we're on the same page 💙.]

I also found that the very first register (before then I just tracked some lousy, approximated words, and just since, like, three months prior) is from March 11, 2021, of 545 words. After that, it seems I started writing regularly (more on than off) since April (18.4k words, 12.5k in May, 11.8k in June, 26.5k in July, 2k in August, 9.5k in September, and 8.5k in December).

The details of the second draft say that I started it in December 2021, so pretty sure that 8.5k are from it. There is also proof that I started posting the story on Wattpad and Inkspired, I don't know which version (seems logical that the first one but who knows), in the same month.

During my 23 (December 20, 2021 - December 19, 2022), the monthly word count was like: 2.3k in December 2021, 7.6k in February, 6.8k in March, 5.7k in April, 8k in May, 2.2k in June, 4.9k in August, 8.7k in September, 15.3k in October, 19.7k in November, and 53 words in December. If it seems like this year I wrote way lower, it was because I was not only writing on Mimi and my word count limit suffered a decline due to my health. It's still pretty limited, but I continue writing anyway.

I also started the third draft in May 2022.

I have seen a lot of writers recommending finishing earlier drafts before going to the next, but, eh, I take recommendations with a grain of salt. I felt I had to stop where I did, so for that there are three unfinished drafts before I finally started having a neat process register.

Before starting the next (and current) draft, I did an outline, in October 2022 exactly (that was the 15.3k words). It contains twenty chapters with four major points each. It's not tight, I can add and remove, divide them at will, but that was everything I was able to think about, based on what I knew of the story from the three previous drafts, at that moment.

Then, in November 2022, with the NaNoWriMo main event, I started the fourth draft, with the started words that I shared above.

Now, in my year 24 (December 20, 2022 - December 19, 2023), the word count is going like: 3.7k in December 2022, 11.5k in January, 18.4k in February, 15.9k in March, and updating monthly.

As I told a bit earlier, I'm having a better, neat process register of my writing. I'm also devoted to this story as my main project until I finish it, but all those words aren't entirely for the main story; I'm also counting extra scenes, outside activities (like the ones from Tumblr), and whatever I add to my Details (worldbuilding, characters, etc) document.

Drafting Progress: around 23%.

Writing Schedule

What is this?

As I told above, the outline contains twenty (20) chapters with four (4) major points each, which are eighty (80) scenes, but as the writing goes on, I have been dividing some major points into a few more scenes, actually having eighty-eight (88) scenes and counting. Not really knowing my writing flow, I decided to try a weekly approach and see how it went, so I scheduled one scene a week starting on January 1st, 2023.

As I started the fourth draft right away in November, the first six weeks went by revising and editing the first six scenes. Then, the real work started.

To today day (May 15th, 2023), I got behind twice in my own schedule: in the 3rd Chapter, 2nd Major Point (scenes 16 and 17) for five days, and in the 4th Chapter, 2nd Major Point (scenes 21 and 22) for thirty-seven days (still counting).

Below you will be able to see the schedule, the original one had the last scene finishing on July 13th, 2024, but I changed the dates due to the last delay.

Schedule, Time Spent and Word Count

Working on: Chapter 4, Major Point 2 [22]

Scene with most words: Chapter 1, Major Point 3 [6]

Scene with fewer words: Chapter 1, Major Point 3 [5]

Scene that took the longest time: Chapter 3, Major Point 2 [16 - 17]

Scene that took the shorter time: Chapter 2, Major Point 1 [8]

Extra details, like chapters information and characters sheets, in the page.

Posting individual character sheets soon.

0 notes

jolienjoyswriting · 1 year

Text

Family Matters, Ch. I

Chapter 1 of 4 for "Family Matters", an Essence of Ragnarok story.

After failing to conceive, Joseph and Kris decide it's time for professional help.

Word count: 2,750 – Character count: 16,146 Drafted: March 10th / 11th, 2023 –

This is a story that needed to be written. It has, in fact, been something that I've had in my head since the mid-'00s. It was actually my friend, Douglas Loya, who planted the seed for this story all that time ago. I wonder if he reads my stuff… Ah, whatever.

I hope you enjoy the story, folks. This is one of the "big ones" of the EoR universe. (Yes, I actually do have something of a timeline with major plot points and everything. Surprising, I know.)

Joseph Lithius, Kristian Sanders, and "Essence of Ragnarok" series and related characters and concepts created by and © Jo Li

[ ↶ Prev. Story | ← Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter → | Next Story ↷ ]

"Haaaaa… Whew… That was fun…"

Citrine. The sixth month of the standard calendar. A month of pleasant weather and a month of birth and revival. It had been a particularly warm Citrine perfect for sitting outside with a cool drink or doing a lot of swimming. For Joseph and Kris, though, it had been a month of something a little more private… and a lot more intimate.

Joseph lay in his bed, catching his breath and looking at the ceiling fan slowly rotating overhead. Sweat clung to his fur as he recovered from their latest attempt at conceiving a child. "You'd think I'd be bored of this after doing it for three solid months…" He grinned to himself, wagging his tail. "But, I'm not!" The fox chuckled to himself before removing his glasses and rubbing his face. After placing them back on his face, he turned his head, smiling at his girlfriend. "How 'bout you, Kris?" he asked. "One more round? Whatcha say?" When the brown-furred vixen lying to his right didn't respond, he rolled onto his side. "Kris?" he called, poking her arm. "Yes? No?" "This has to stop." Such a blunt response really threw the fox. He'd noticed the lack of a certain… spark… during their lovemaking, but he thought it was just his imagination. Clearly not.

"This has to stop," Kris repeated as she continued to stare at the ceiling. "Er… any particular reason?" was Joseph's next question. "Did I do something wrong? Did I not do something I was supposed to?" "Joseph…" She turned her head to look at him. "We have been doing this every third day for the greater part of three months." "And it's been a lot of fun!" When she narrowed her mismatched eyes and folded her ears, Joseph stopped laughing. "I'm sorry," he said. "Go on." "We have been making love regularly," Kris continued. "Without protection. During my cycle. Off my cycle. In the morning, the noon, the evening, and at night. We have attempted to utilize over-the-counter stimulants and we have attempted to procreate in cold weather. We have consumed lean proteins, we have exercised to fitness, and we have tried just about everything that has been recommended to increase fertility." Her stern face gave way to a look of worry. "Joseph…? What if… what if I am simply incapable of becoming pregnant…?" "Eh, it's probably me." Kris flinched as Joseph reached over and brushed a tear away from her face. "If you recall, I was one of those kids that weird science cult experimented on. Heh, be glad you weren't part of that mess…" She paused before asking, "Are you trying to tell me that your altered genes may be the cause of our failures?" He grinned. "Could be!" Joseph's news wasn't exactly a revelation to Kris… The thought had occurred that his spliced DNA might have made them incompatible. Still… she was holding out hope that it was something else… something within her control.

"May– maybe if we exercise more," she suggested. "Or maybe if we go on a legume-only diet! Maybe if we have sex less frequently… o-or–" "Kris…" "Wh-what?" Joseph softly sighed, resting his hand against his girlfriend's cheek. "Maybe we should get someone to look under the hood, so to speak…" "I have looked into fertility testing…" She shook her head and leaned back. "Medical science has determined that, for optimal results, men and women under the age of 35 should be tested after an entire year of failure. Even if we were over 35 years of age, the suggested wait would still be half a year…" "Well, clearly something is going on in one or both of us, Kris. Or rather, something isn't." He smiled again. "Maybe there's something they can do for us only three months in." The vixen tilted her head down, keeping her ears folded. "I… I suppose…" "Hey." She caught his gaze as he tilted her head back up. "I love you." Somehow… those three words seemed to do the trick. She sniffled, scooted closer, and cuddled up with her boyfriend, hugging him tightly against her body. The two spent some time cuddling and nuzzling, sharing purrs and adoring each other. Once they were much calmer, Kris pulled back and offered a small smile to her beloved.

"I… I shall make the call tomorrow…" –

"Well… the results of your tests came in. Would you like to hear the news?"

A week had passed since Kris made the call to the local fertility clinic. Once they directed her to the right people, she was able to set up a sperm test for Joseph and an ovulation test for herself. Neither test took very long and, surprisingly, the results of the tests were seemingly available that same day!

"So… your husband's sperm count is a little low," the doctor told them, "but not dangerously low." "'Husband'…?" Joseph looked at Kris. Kris looked back. The two then turned back to the doctor. "We are not married, Doctor," Kris told him. "Also. It's probably low because we recently, uh…" When Joseph blushed, the doctor got the message. "That'd do it, alright… Heh! Anyway," he continued, "everything looks more-or-less good with you, Mr. Lithius. As for you, Ms. Sanders…" The doctor read his file. "Nothing odd with your hormone levels! You should be ovulating normally!" Joseph chuckled. "Well, that's a relief."

"So… at a base level, there are no problems with either of us?" "I never said that, Ms. Sanders" the doctor corrected. "All we know right now is that he's packing live rounds and you should be receptive to 'em! There are more tests we can do…" "Such as?" Joseph asked. "If you want, I can do some blood work on you, Mr. Lithius. As for your lady friend? My associate can give her the ol' once-over with an X-Ray machine and see if her inner workings are, erm, working!" "But you just said–" "I said she can ovulate," the doctor interrupted. "If any of her, you know…" He leaned in, his voice lowering. "Lady parts…" He leaned back, then. "Aren't working quite right, then she still might not be able to conceive and whatnot." "Fine, fine," Kris said. "We shall make an appointment for further testing." "Alrighty!" The doctor nodded. "In the meantime, I'd suggest not being intimate for a bit. The test results may not have been 100% accurate 'cause of your recent activities, though they're certainly accurate enough to recommend the next phase of testing! On that note, we usually recommend that couples come in after a year of being unable to have offspring…" "We know," Joseph told him. "We just thought an 'early' peek might help things along." "Fair enough," he commented. "In any case, I'll send my recommendation to the receptionist and you can set up another pair of appointments if you'd like! Pay the lady on the way out, thanks! And have a great day!"

"So… I've got 'live ammo', huh?"

Once the first visit was paid for and the next appointments scheduled, the two foxes headed out to the parking lot. They were in Kris' car and on the road not long after.

"Good to know, huh?" he asked. Kris didn't respond. She seemed intensely focused on driving… "Kris?" he called. "You okay?" "I… I cannot shake this feeling that the doctor failed to tell us everything." "What?" Kris glanced over at her boyfriend. "Nothing… I am simply being paranoid." "Maybe not?" Joseph grinned. "I bet places like this make a lot of money off health insurance like ours! So of course, they'd wanna haul us back in and do more tests!" "Mm…" "Ah, it'll be fiiine." Joseph shuffled down into his seat and crossed his arms. "We'll figure this out. Or have it figured out for us. Have a little faith, Kris!" "I pray to the Trinity every night," she commented. "But… yes. I know what you mean." Joseph chuckled and Kris smiled. It seemed more likely than not that the fertility clinic could help them with their problem. It was only a matter of time…

Another week passed and the results of Joseph and Kris' second examinations had come in. They were anxiously waiting in a random examination room. Joseph was looking at all the doodads laying around while Kris quietly sat on the padded examination table. "What do you think he's gonna tell us this time, Kris?" he asked. "Realistically," she answered, "I expect to be subjected to another round of testing." "Heh. Yeah… Gotta 'squeeze blood from a stone' and all that!" Kris nodded. Not long after, the doctor from a week prior entered the room.

"So!" he chirped. "Good news, bad news, or weird news?" "What?" Joseph turned around. "What do you mean 'weird'?" "Good news," Kris answered, not waiting for a reply. "The good news is that, according to our tests, your… um, 'inner workings' are in perfect working condition! To that end, there's no physical reason why your eggs shouldn't want to accept your husband's… uh… payloads!" "Still not married…" Joseph commented. "What's the bad news?" The doctor's jovial attitude turned a little somber… "You should probably sit down." "Oh, good." Joseph walked over to the examination bench and sat next to his girlfriend. When she offered her hand, he waved it away before focusing on the short doctor and his clipboard of bad news. His ears were curled back and his eyes were narrowed… Whatever the doctor had to say, he was sure he wouldn't like it.

"Should I give you a moment to–" "Just… tell us the bad news, doc," Joseph snapped. "Very well…" The doctor flipped through his notes and cleared his throat. "Mr. Joseph Lithius?" "Yeah…?" "I regret to inform you that your testosterone levels are abnormally high. Apparently, your low sperm count wasn't just from being intimate with your… er…" "Girlfriend," Kris helpfully said. "Right." The doctor paused again. "In addition… there's some problems with your hormone levels – and I don't just mean just the ones regarding your reproductive ability." "Is it dangerous…?" The vixen asked, perking with concern. "As far as his day-to-day life? Nah. But, unless he looks into hormonal treatment… Well…" The doctor paused yet again. "I'm afraid that he may never have kids!" "With me…?" "With you," he said to Kris, "or with anyone." "So… I'm sterile." He nodded to Joseph. "More-or-less…" "What do you mean?" Kris asked. "The odds of him being able to fertilize an ovum are… very low. If I had to put a number to it, I would say it's… less than half of half-a-percent? I'm sorry…" "See? I told you it was me." Joseph paused. Then… he smiled at Kris. It was a broken sort of smile…

"Guess we won't be makin' a baby, huh?" he said, standing up. "I… I-I…" The fox's face curled and his body trembled. "I-I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" When he started to quietly sob, Kris immediately hopped up and pulled him into a hug. What was supposed to be a half-joke, half-dismissal had turned into a horrible realization that shook the fox to his core. He was devastated… "Should I give you two a moment…?" And the doctor's obliviousness didn't help.

"Doctor." The doctor looked up at Kris, tilting his head. She looked upset, though not angry. "This information comes as something of a… I-I mean… Joseph was hoping…" She inhaled and exhaled, clearly fighting back the urge to cry. "Joseph and I had been discussing things… It was my idea to create a child with this man, but he never once feigned interest. He wants to be a father almost as much as I want to be a mother. He never gave up on the idea… Even when I started to lose hope, Joseph would reassure me that we would succeed. And now? You have informed us that it would be a statistical anomaly were I to bear his child." Kris coldly narrowed her eyes at the doctor, finally letting tears fall from her eyes. "Yes," she said in a dark tone. "We would like a moment." "H-hey! Don't shoot the messeng–" "Leave!!" The doctor yelped, jumping in place as Kris shouted at him. He was quick to leave the room after that.

"Joseph…" Kris sighed, softly stroking her boyfriend's hair. He was a wet, sobbing mess… "Joseph, Joseph… It… it will be fine…" she told him. "Per… perhaps we could try artificial insemination… or– or maybe in vitro…?" "I… in vitro…?" The fox sniffled, pausing to look up. Kris was offering a soft smile. "It is an alternative to natural conception," she explained. "I donate one of my viable eggs and you donate some of your semen. They inseminate the egg and place it back into my uterus. It would be just like… It… I…" She shivered, looking away. "I don't want that…" she whispered, breaking her usual way of speaking. "Neither do I… but… but…" Joseph hiccuped. "I-if that's what it'll take to give you the child you want…" "Forget I brought it up," she sharply told him. "In vitro crosses too many lines for my comfort. It is far too unnatural and borders on being immoral." The fox rubbed his eyes, staring at his girlfriend in confusion. He seemed like he had questions, but at the same time, he didn't know how to phrase them. "All we can do is just… keep trying," she told him. "But… I-I'm…" When he started shaking again, Kris pulled him right back into a hug.

"I'm sorry for putting you through all of this…" she whispered, stroking his back and holding his head. "It was selfish of me to force these wants and desires on you… I don't… I don't need to bear your children – I don't need to bear anyone's children! I…" She paused, trailing off. "B-but… you want to, though…" Which gave Joseph the perfect chance to lean back and look at her, again.

"Y-you're not being unreasonable…" he told her between shaky breaths. "You just want us to have a family together… I want that, too… B-but, I guess that's just not… going… to…" Joseph bit his lower lip and shivered, looking away. He was still crying, but Kris' words seemed to have calmed him down at least a little… "We can… we can still raise a family together, Joseph…" She offered a somewhat shaky smile. "Remember what you told me the day I brought this idea to your attention?" "I… um… n-no…?" The fox rubbed his nose before asking, "What'd I say…?" "I had just bared my soul to you in the name of motherhood…" she told him. "I had said that I could not be the mother I want to be without your help. And you… in typical fashion… jokingly suggested that I could adopt a child instead of bearing yours." "I did…?" He quietly chuckled. "That sounds like something I'd say, yeah…" "At the time, it was intended as a joke. However…" Kris paused and looked away, seemingly unable to finish her thought. "Kris…" Joseph nuzzled his girlfriend's cheek. "You really want us to have a child together… don't you?" "It means more to me than life itself, Joseph…" She shuddered, her eyes watering over. "Please… forgive me for being so selfish…" "Only if you forgive me for wanting to give you a child…" The vixen weakly laughed… A second later, she sniffled and looked at her beloved. He was still a wet mess. She probably didn't look much better… Rather than linger on the topic any further, though, she rubbed her face with one arm and smiled. "I love you, Joseph…" "I love you, too, Kris…" The two shared a long, warm hug in that examination room. It probably would have gone on forever had the doctor not returned.

"I see you two are doing better…" he cautiously said. "Yes…" Kris answered, calmly smiling at the doctor. "I apologize for my anger." "No, no, I'm sorry for not reading the room better! Sometimes, I just get too wrapped up in the details and lose sight of the stuff that matters. But hey, speaking of details…" He raised his clipboard, flipping through his notes. "There was the matter of that weird news…" "Whatever it is," Joseph said, rubbing the bridge of his muzzle, "it can't be any worse than the bad news." "What is it, doctor?" Kris asked. "Well… I don't know how to say this… so I'll just say it…

#fiction #Essence of Ragnarok #Year 2046 #Family Matters #original characters #jolikmc #Joseph Lithius #Kristian Sanders #romance #slice of life #drama

0 notes

ja-lin · 2 years

Text

Concept sketch for Izaiah, Malakai’s younger brother. Eh, it’s okay for a first draft, but I want to make his features more like Malakai, eyes/eyebrows. Will definitely go back to work on it some more. Still deciding what pose I want to give him, for now he has a neutral 3/4 pose.

Malakai’s from Hawaii and is Samoan, so Izaiah is also. I’ll most likely give him some more accessories and piercings on my 2nd draft. I took inspiration from Malakai’s hair colors to give Izaiah blue highlights. His body type is a bit more muscular than Lazareth, but still super tall. He has a long and thin face structure and long hair like Laz.

Gluttony Izaiah Collins Height: 6’2’’ Age: 22 Birthday: March 15th Hobbies: Cooking, surfing, ocean swimming, reading

According to lines in-game, Izaiah was close with his brother Malakai. He really looked up to his brother and constantly talked about him to the troupe. So, I decided on a 5+ year age gap between the brothers. This way Malakai is truly the older brother figure. This makes Izaiah younger than Onyx and Vinca.

Izaiah’s youth, and how close he was to his brother is probably also why Wrath mentioned she couldn’t look Malakai in the eye after the fire incident. It was too much guilt.

Malakai was labeled as demi-sexual, in his route there was some taboo about falling in love. Might be a Gluttony assassin thing. So, in my story I wrote Izaiah as asexual. His personality will be similar to Malakai’s, but he likes having fun more than Malakai and talks more than Lazareth. He’s usually reading books all day. He learned how to cook from his mother and enjoys cooking Thanksgiving and Christmas meals for the troupe. Also he bakes birthday cakes!

(Design notes: I thought he’d be easier since I had Malakai and Lazareth as reference models, but I spent hours researching cause the only two Polynesian actors that kept showing up in my search was Dwayne Johnson and Jason Mamoa. So, I ended up getting inspiration from Hawaiian surfers instead since both those actors didn’t really suite the younger brother body type. I also have to design a new sleeve tattoo for him since the one I used for the concept was just pasted from a stock image. )

#i took one of my friend's birthdays for izaiah

18 notes · View notes

hollenka99 · 3 years

Text

Laying Foundations

Summary: The Blood God gets used to caring for a baby and small child who is getting livelier by the year. Chapter 1 of Blood and Feathers. <<Prologue

Warnings: Very brief emeto reference

It is a rather long journey to his Overworld forest cabin from wherever he'd ended up that caused him to be near Phillip's birthplace. The baby, ever so respectfully quiet until now, bawls as soon as the heat of the Nether seems to register. That or he finds portal travel disagreeable. The Blood God is not yet ready to unveil his latest plan. It is half formed and to be honest, he is completely winging it. He wasn't even sure whether he wished to raise his little project here, in his domain where things have always felt a bit... clearer, or in the Overworld, where Phillip is meant to belong, until the Netherdamned child threatened to blow his cover. All he could do to lessen the risk of being spotted is cover Phillip with his cloak and ignore the tiny talons poking at his skin. Besides, if worse came to worst, he could always glare a piglin down into silence. There are very few who are bold enough to trifle with a violence-centric deity, after all. But they do eventually make it. It then hits him that yes, of course, nothing here was left in a suitable condition for raising a child. There is clutter all over the table for one thing. There is also the remains of some meal he must have had prior to leaving the last time. Forgive him for not caring about trivial things such as cleaning up after himself when he's done that thousands of times over his centuries long life. Cleaning is a futile endeavour anyway. You achieve your result, only for it to rapidly be reversed. It will be worse now that he has subjected himself to a child, a form of life unable to comprehend its surroundings required respect, therefore antagonising their environment in their ignorance. That said, he did have three wolves who were capable of causing a mess all on their own. Perhaps, he ponders, he should have asked Celandine to reserve Phillip for a few days as he prepared the place for another being. It will be fine. Phillip is too young to care as it is. After some strife, the house becomes tidier. A pillow and its removed case are placed in a box for lack of better furniture. It will be as good of a bed as Phillip will get while the god fully adjusts his living arrangements. Caring for an infant is... more work than he had been expecting. And he had been anticipating to be kept busy by the kid regardless. During the first night, everything appears to be a problem. He's been fed, changed, paid attention to in general... all of it pointing to the fact Phillip should be content with sleeping. Then ah, the sword swings. Phillip must finally realise he is not going to see his family anymore. Oh well, not much he can do to remedy that. Also, he must say that for such a small stomach, it certainly seems to need filling often. Celandine checks to see how he is faring and offers advice. One such recommendation is to heat the liquid so that it is served warm. However, this occasionally proves to be a disaster as his sense of 'too hot' has been skewed by Nether standards. Phillip never fails to let him know if he's miscalculated. He knows it's irresponsible but a short trip without the baby through the Nether to collect Krev, Valka and Mort won't do much damage. They leap up at him but he hasn't got time to waste with pleasantries. The trio follow him diligently as they pass the statue of the four of them, narrowly avoid a slip into lava because how many lives must I live before you listen when I say be careful and they still remain at his heels when he steps into the portal. The wolves certainly love Phillip at first sight since they barely allow the god to leave the infant's designated room. Easy, he tells them, get your noses away because he's not a plaything and you won't even get to see him if you crowd round like this. The longer they have to get used to each other, the less agitated Phillip tends to be when not in need of care. It is during these calmer moments that they can be found, for example, reading a book 'together'. More to the point, he reads aloud while Phillip tries to grab pages, wriggles in the crook of his arm or the little boy simply stares up at him. Phillip has also become fond of gripping his caregiver's tusks whenever he is carried. It's an odd habit but it isn't painful or particularly uncomfortable so eh, who cares. Being 7 months old when they meet, Phillip is already on the verge of crawling. This is an issue. He gains the ability to be mobile by the time the Blood God is satisfied the cabin is satisfactory for a baby. This soon devolves into a keen eye frequently being kept aimed at the floor. The god wasn't a stranger to watching his step (a trio of wolves seemingly determined to become safety hazards at times will do that to you) but this was even worse. Do you know how miniscule Phillip is compared to him?! And this is the shortest the god can make himself. He is going to accidentally tread on the infant one day if he doesn't remain vigilant, he is sure of it. Winter proves to be a troublesome time. The cold seeps in through the windows whenever there isn't a lit fire to combat it. He despises the season and most years, he is either residing in the Nether anyway or he stays in his large desert home. Well actually, that place of his in the desert tends to be his usual shelter. It's just that humans (and, by extension, avians he supposes) are so fickle when it comes to temperature. They can never be too hot or too cold, for fear of their bodies' ridiculous way of attempting to maintain thermal homeostasis leading to their demises. Babies... are likely the worst culprits of this, along with the elderly. That was why he chose somewhere milder like this forest when it came to Phillip. Celandine has some thoughts on the matter, given that she is unhappy upon her next visit. "You do realise avians are migratory, don't you? It is, after all, partially how you ended up meeting and adopting him. The cold does not suit him." "It does not suit me either. If he is simply cold, I will keep him by the fire." "Keep him warm." She sternly instructs. Perhaps she is right though. He isn't too fond of the lowering temperatures and Phillip's fussiness seems to agree with him. He drafts up rough blueprints for a house, larger than this lowly, isolated cottage but also nothing requiring the time and resources on par with his massive desert villa. Hopefully, with the builders he plans to hire to construct it on his behalf, it will be ready for them this time next year. Which leaves the more pressing issue of what is he going to do for this winter? Well, he supposes there's only one thing for it. Phillip does not find the heat favourable. He spends his days complaining in his own infantile way or being very quiet when struggling with the temperature. Between the age of 9 to 12 months, his style is very much in the minimalist category. Another dilemma the god has is the fact he never exactly need a reason to keep cool here. Therefore, a water source is relatively far away and the coldest spot on the property is the room used to keep food fresh for longer. Phillip shouldn't really be around raw meat but for the sake of lowering the risk of him overheating, he does become familiar with the storage area. However, it's not as if he lives in there. He does get placed outside in the shade with a blanket underneath him every now and again. Babies will taste test any old thing they can get their hands on and there is no better example of this than the way a crawling infant takes fistfuls of the most abundant resource around him to sample. It's the god's duty to supervise in order to prevent sand from becoming unintentionally integrated into Phillip's diet. He notices birds lingering in unusual numbers in the early weeks of the new year. Low enough that perhaps he hasn't cared to notice the true extent of the local bird population before. High enough that he's sure there weren't this many before now. It's February too which makes it even more perplexing. Disappearing to warmer lands is one thing but surely they don't migrate to barren wastelands such as these. Then March 1st arrives and suddenly it all begins to make sense. Celandine could honestly have been less subtle. Any longer and it would have been an infestation. The goddess lands to the cacophony of birds cheering her arrival. Phillip's absent-minded babbling ceases as soon as his brain registers that she has taken him in her arms. She kneels, a baby in one arm while the other is held out as an invitation. She calls out, asking where the subject of her intentions was and summoning it to come to her. A bird with dark feathers makes itself known. It swoops in, perching on the offered limb. It's not a remarkable creature in any way. It has wings, it has eyes, it... presumably breathes. Regardless, it sets its eyes on Phillip from the moment it comes forward. Phillip himself observes the bird with curiosity, even reaching out to it. "Given that you have completed a year of life now, I thought a lifelong friend to keep you company throughout all the other years you're going to see would be a nice gift. She was born last spring, just like you, and she'll stay with you until it's time for you to go. So take good care of each other." The two are left on the ground opposite each other. The crow (apparently that's what the species was called) appears inquisitive. Phillip, on the other hand, crawls back towards him within a minute. "What's their name?" The god asks when Celandine soon shows signs of leaving. A chuckle. "She hasn't told me." It doesn't take too long after his birthday for the baby to learn how to stand with support. In fact, once he manages the feat once, he seems to become obsessed with it. Soft clicking can soon be heard near various pieces of furniture multiple times a day. It would seem the Blood God had just started to get the hang of dealing with a child at one stage of development when Phillip inevitably progressed onto the next. He learns to walk unassisted out on the grass around their house in June. He'd been warned this part of the infant's development would be slower than a human's but given he wasn't aware of how Overworlder children grew, it didn't bother him in the first place. The 1 year old avian struggles to maintain his balance in the beginning but as the weeks and months go on, the clack of talons on wood grows ever more common. Phillip catches him speaking with his ambassadors one day. The conversation isn't anything serious and honestly, should have been had in the Nether. However, wouldn't you know it, raising a kid requires you to be present in case they need you. So they're here, risking their wellbeing just so Phillip can be entertaining himself in the corner of his eye. The toddler specifically notices them bow prior to taking their leave. When the god turns to head back home, he spots a small figure crouch and punch the earth in an imitation of what he witnessed moments before. "Not the time or place." Phillip looks at him expectantly. He repeats the action. "Oh no, I'm not going to lower myself for you. It's called me being at the top of a hierarchy that you're at the bottom of. ...But you probably won't understand that concept for a while." A brief nod of the head is all Phillip receives. He pouts in response, makes a third attempt, but follows him inside all the same when he doesn't get what he wanted. Learning to speak is a slow process for the child, made even slower by the inconsistency of languages spoken at him. The only one who is monolingual is the bird Phillip got for his birthday. As time goes on and the boy starts to get used to forming words, he frequently points to the animal to say things such as "Am" or "Mimi". It's not until November or so that Phillip begins to refer to her as 'Amica'. It takes the god longer than it should have to realise that this is the crow's name and not, as he initially assumed, the Common translation of the Avian word for 'bird'. Amica it is then. The name becomes one of Phillip's favourite Common words to say. Also around this time, the savannah house gets completed, or at least the bare minimum of it is ready. Any extra rooms can be commissioned to be done in upcoming springs and summers if he so desires. The exterior is acacia with a cobblestone frame. It looks nice, as do the rooms inside. The basement that spans the entire area underneath the building will make for good storage space. Like the forest, there are plenty of trees and open spaces for Phillip to play in one day. With some rope and a plank of wood, he could craft a swing once Phillip is able to use one. He comes to realise that this child has no concrete language. Phillip will attempt to copy his grunts and snorts but nothing his vocal chords can produce is quite as deep or guttural as they need to be. The Blood God has been speaking in a mix of Piglin and Common, very occasionally reverting to Ancient Piglin. It depends on his mood but he has been attempting to raise him bilingual with a subconscious bias towards Piglin. Whenever Celandine visits, she will talk to him exclusively in Common for some reason instead of her own natural tongue. As for Amica, they converse only in Avian. However, the reasoning behind that is obvious. One way or another, he can tell Phillip is getting confused with all the words he has to know at only 2 years old. He will speak in Piglin, pause then make some kind of tweety noise while frowning. The funnier moments are when Phillip forgets himself and speaks Avian to him before realising his mistake when the god doesn't understand him. His tiny brain has to fit a great deal of information inside it but they will get there. Defeating a toddler in battle is very easy. His ward lacks co-ordination, focus and sometimes attempts to procure 'weaponry' that is far beyond his weight limit. The Blood God has been whacked with a stick more times than he would like. As annoying as having his legs be attacked with an inefficient blunt object can be, the kid's giggling whenever he reacts to it in any way does make it more tolerable. The wolves enjoy the results of his pitiful attempts at throwing though so all is not lost. However, all this physical play has a habit of messing up Phillip's wings if they're not careful. It had taken practice for the god to care for the wings to a decent standard. Now it was Phillip's turn to start learning, given that he was growing old enough to gain the dexterity for it. The majority of it is still the Blood God's responsibility because gods know that toddler does not pay self-grooming as much attention as he should yet but his involvement increases all the same. And when he molts over the summer, Phillip makes it clear he doesn't want his feathers disposed of. So the god supposes there's going to be a chest full of old feathers in it now. Who knows, it might be interesting for Phillip to peruse through one day. Each early January, the god has been begrudgingly allowing himself to be called away. Ever since Phillip came along, he's been slacking with this specific duty. He'll be presented with a selection of potential warriors for him to act as sponsor for but he never cares much for choosing the one he actually believes in, as he used to do. Being the Blood God's candidate in the fight used to be an advantage but he wouldn't be surprised if it's becoming a hinderance recently. How can you win if your sponsor doesn't help with your preparations throughout the year? The god would say he needed to sit out on being a sponsor if he could. It's simply not possible. It likewise is impossible for him to safely and discreetly keep Phillip in the Nether for weeks. When the actual tournaments come, he now skips them. He can get away with being absent, after all. It's not like he hasn't sat quarter- or semi-finals out before. The final though and the celebrations after? Yeah... not exactly something he can consider missing, especially given it's him who has to have the winner presented to him then host the party. To solve his problem, he speaks to Celandine. She apparently can't care for him in her own home (something about it not being suitable for mortals) but she can arrange for a couple to temporarily babysit Phillip while the finals are being fought. This time, he returns to house with a sleeping child in his hold. The toddler never says a huge amount regarding his time there. However, that's more likely due to his young age than a comment on his experience away from home. When he's three years old, the god decides Phillip is old enough to start working on fighting basics such as footing and learning environmental awareness. It's nothing strenuous or particularly physical but developing the foundation blocks now will serve them both well in the future. Use of any form of proper weaponry can be left for when Phillip is a little older. As the weeks roll by, the boy begins to really take to it. It requires conscious effort for him to maintain a proper stance when moving around but they can work on it. They both have years to get it right and improve efficiency. As a treat to reward him for his efforts so far, the Blood God plans to make a delicacy he's been wanting to introduce Phillip to for a while. He temporarily leaves him under the supervision of the wolves while he sleeps so that certain ingredients could be collected in the Nether. The fungus (both types, he's going all out) is sliced while he creates a broth with an infusion of wither petals. Mushrooms get thrown in too for an Overworld spin on it. An addition of torn petals completes the dish. When he serves it to Phillip, the boy recoils at the taste which causes him to end up eating wet mushrooms and fungus for dinner as a compromise. Not even an hour later, he is pale, less attentive than usual and holding a bowl due to being violently ill. He wants to dismiss it as food poisoning of some sort, maybe he didn't prepare it properly (he knows he didn't mess it up, not with how experienced he is with the dish) or perhaps Phillip is simply suffering from an undiscovered allergy. He reckons the best course of action is to send Amica to Celandine, she'd likely have a better idea than him. And oh, does she. "You gave him soup laced with wither rose petals? Are you trying to kill him?!" "Of course not." He growls back. "It's just that nobody seems to be writing down 'hey don't feed anything wither related to kids'." "Don't feed wither roses to anyone! How have you been around for millennia but still don't know only piglins have a tolerance to wither poison? Gods above, it is the commonest of common knowledge." Regaining his health is an arduous task for the small child. His body fights it as best as it can but its methods risk leading to severe dehydration. It is for this reason the god is eternally grateful their savannah home is close to a body of water. If he's not checking in on Phillip, he's boiling water or preparing safe food so he can urge the kid to eat. The fever keeps Phillip in bed for days. It's slow, it's messy, it's far from a great time for anyone. But they gradually see it through. Phillip just about manages to get to the other side, albeit feeling temporarily weaker. "He's lucky I gave him longevity as part of being one of my Chosen. /You're/ lucky." Celandine comments when the disaster finally begins to see its end. "Trust me, Blood God, one more miscalculation on your part that's in even the vaguest vicinity of this one and I will not hesitate to deliver him to the caregivers he should be with. The only reason I'm allowing this experiment of yours to continue is my own curiosity. However, I value him seeing 30 years more than how he gets to that age. This is your only warning." It is duly noted. The god thinks it wise to let Phillip mingle with other children. Who knows how he'd turn out if all he had for company throughout his formative years was a couple of gods, three immortal wolves and Amica or whatever other bird is willing to listen to his ramblings. The two of them are fairly secluded but there is a human town not too far from where the house is. With repeated visits, Phillip begins to make friends of the human variety. Most of the young children think Phillip is cool for having wings. They are also of the opinion that having a giant pig-looking man as a caregiver is impressive. One day on the walk home, the kid in his arm, Phillip looks up at him and opens his mouth. "What's a daddy? Coz- coz I was playing with a girl. Then the man was shouting. She said it was um... it was her 'daddy'. What's that?" "A father." "What's that?" "A male parent. So if you grew up and met a woman then had a baby together, you would be a father. Humans use dad and daddy colloquially." "What's-" "Slang." "Okay." Phillip ponders a moment. "Are you a daddy?" Nether damn you, kid. The god groans. "Yes... I suppose I am something like that to you." "Did you meet a woman?" "Well, Celandine is female and she let me take you home with me after I met her so... in a way." "Celly is a lady daddy." He nods. "That's typically called a mother." After Phillip questions whether the two deities have had a baby other than himself (no, definitely not together and the Blood God has never personally seen the point in siring any brood himself), he descends into further enquiries. It gets to the point the god makes an offhand comment about how he wasn't expecting to deal with a questionnaire today. Phillip responds by asking what a questionnaire is. With all that their conversation entails, it should honestly be counted as a miracle they never touch on the dreaded topic of conception. He does not, however, escape Phillip's gradual shift to a more informal way of addressing him. At least he's not calling him 'Sir' as if it's his actual given name anymore. Over the last few years of parenting, he has learned the quietest moments are the most suspicious ones. If Phillip is not chattering away to himself as he plays in the main room, he is likely running around outside with the wolves or engaging in conversation with Amica. That is to say, he is making noise one way or another. So when the god comes to the realisation he hears nothing on a day in early summer, it is safe to say he is concerned. He discovers Phillip standing on a low branch of a tree. "What are you trying to achieve with this?" The boy glances up. "Oh hi, Daddy. Celly said I was gonna fly. I gotta be 4 or 5 or 6. I'm 4 now so I'm gonna fly now." "I'm not sure it works like that. It's more to do with how large your wings are. They have to be able to support you in the air." "I'm 4." He holds up the appropriate quantity of fingers as if they will emphasise his point. "Celly said my wings are getting super big." That would not be how he would describe the size of those limited things. "They are growing but really, Phillip, you should be careful. I highly doubt you are ready yet." "Watch this." "Don't." He warns. "Get down from there." Phillip grins as if he's thought of the perfect scheme. "Okay!" He leaps from the branch, wings spread out. A second later, an 'oof' of a body hitting the ground is heard. The drop was too short to particularly do any damage (or, in fact, provide enough time for the wings to accept the wind). However, the young boy breaks into a fit of bawling as if he's hurt himself. He's seen stupider injuries over the centuries so a part of the god does not dismiss the possibility Phillip really has caused himself harm as a result of this stunt. Luckily for both of them, it's simply the typical 'small child acting like the most minor inconvenience is the end of the world'. It becomes a long summer of keeping an eye out for Phillip potentially attempting to repeat his actions. Practice may make perfect but the child will never take the skies if he breaks all his bones first. The kid begrudgingly adheres to the rule that he will not perform any flying-related activities without supervision. He often complains that he can't practise flying if he can't jump from a high enough spot to try. The god has none of it. Instead, he suggests the boy flap his wings to imitate flying while standing firm on ground as a better alternative. Phillip becomes a self-declared 'expert' at this soon enough. "Savannah, savannah, savannah." Phillip chants, hopping with his arms raised in an attempt to grab the god's hand. A bag is abandoned by his feet and he continues to pay it no heed in favour of badgering his father. He doesn't know why the child sees the need to jump for it. His current height now has him being not quite the length of one of his legs. Phillip is capable of taking his hand if he so desires by simply lifting it up all the way. "Yes, we are going to the savannah, hold on a minute." They both know the drill by now. In the final week of October, they travel to the house in the midst of the savannah. They return to their forest home as March sees its close. Each time, Phillip must cover up to obscure himself from view as he is carried through the Nether. The Blood God himself has a cloak of his own to further shield the child. This is arguably the first year Phillip is able to walk beside him since he can now reach the god's hand but for the sake of making things easier for everyone, the boy will be held during the trip. Most piglins have no reason to bother him. Even those tasked with helping him manage things from the ground on his behalf seem to have developed an unspoken rule to let him pass undisturbed if the path he takes leads him away from his manor. The moment Phillip is allowed on his feet upon their arrival this year, he sprints to the door. During one afternoon in February, he notices Phillip busy with the swing outside. He doesn't entirely understand the entertainment value in winding it up then spinning but if it amuses the kid then whatever. Amica seems to be keeping him company so that served the god well. He thinks this would be a good time to start carving this acacia wood he has lying around into a blade and handle. Because what 5 year old boy wouldn't want a sword for his birthday? And what god of war and blood wouldn't eagerly anticipate the day he can begin training his protégé properly?

#dream smp #technoblade #philza #kidza #my writing #blood and feathers

13 notes · View notes

nervousmendes · 4 years

Text

Canada - Shawn Mendes

Word Count: 2.4k words (fluff)

Warnings: No warnings, just extreme fluff and emotions

A/N: Writer AU based on the song Canada by Lauv ft Alessia Cara. She loves her life in LA but a new opportunity opens her eyes to a new beginning so she needs to figure out what she wants and get Shawn on board with it.

Anyone living in Hollywood knew that LA in the middle of March is not the best time to forget to pull the blinds before going to bed. Scolding herself, she turned around in an attempt to keep the sunlight away from her eyes, feeling Shawn's breath fan her face when she turned towards him. She opened her eyes and she couldn't help but smile with admiration for the man who was asleep with her in his arms. Her hand absent-mindedly went to the soft, brown curls that covered his closed eyes. She brushed them behind and grabbed a few locks in her hand gently, making him let out a sleepy groan. She crooked her neck slightly upward to softly brush her lips against his and when an involuntary hum came from his mouth she had to laugh at how much he enjoyed it even though he was fast asleep.

Waking up in his arms with the sun lighting up their skin was something that she wasn't blessed enough to enjoy often. And she couldn't really do much but simply blame the fact that they both loved their professional lives, and wouldn't give up any part of finally getting to live their dreams for the sake of their relationship. Of course she hated the distance, and so did he. There were nights when they would miserably miss each other, and while of course they had the little technology they knew to see each other's faces and blow kisses via FaceTime, they wouldn't get the feverish touch of each other's skin that they craved, the endless kisses or the warmth of being in each other's presence that they both yearned for after a long, tiring day. Their only solution to balancing everything out was to make the best of the time they got with each other every now and then, and so, he got used to flying back on days off and she came to terms with taking surprise flights to go give her boyfriend a good luck kiss before he jammed out on stage whenever her job kept her free. Not to forget that it didn't really always pan out well with the mess of the schedules that they both worked on but nevertheless, they never stopped giving their relationship their all because no matter how hard it got sometimes, love is a magical thing that always overpowered everything else, so somehow it would all just work out in the end.

She sighed in content as she snuggled closer to Shawn, her hair softly tickling his chin. She looked up at him once again, and kissed him this time not giving a care for whether he was awake or not. The feeling of her lips on his woke him up, and she cringed at herself when he stirred, eyes fluttering open.

"Someone seems a little too impatient this morning, eh?" She smiled on hearing his morning raspy voice and pushed away the thought of not having it the next day. His eyes were half closed and his curls were a mess but she still didn't miss the twinkle in his eyes when he smiled down at her. It was now his turn to peck her lips, and as they met his mouth, he pulled her closer and swiftly lifted her off the bed and had her sit right on his stomach, hands splayed across his chest.

"Says you, who couldn't wait till I was done with my phone call last night." Her cheeks heated up and he had a smug smile on his face as they both reminisced their shenanigans from the previous night, the way his fingers worked their way under her lacy underwear while she was engrossed in discussing something work related with her colleague.

The thought of work (and sex, but she can think about that later) reminded her of the email she received three days ago, the morning Shawn had returned from tour. It was about a job offer in Toronto to be an editor for a well established magazine. He knew she had applied for the position, in fact he was the one who pushed her to when she kept complaining about how it would be impossible to actually get it. She did want to talk to him about the offer, but only after she knew for sure whether she was ready for a big change or not. And after a lot of thinking she figured that the opportunity would open so many new doors for her to grow and establish herself. She loved her work in LA but she had to admit that it was monotonous and there was nothing new for her to learn from drafting those articles anymore. With the new job she could also be closer to her family, and at the end of the day Toronto is where Shawn's home is too, not that it was really a deciding factor but she still considered it. She never thought she'd be one to make career decisions based on her relationship. She grew up with the idea of being an independent, self sufficient and confident woman who stood on her own two feet with her head held high. But love came in the way, consumed her. He consumed her, gave her his all, and literally breathed for her. And it would only be a big, fat, shameful lie if she said that it wasn't the same for her with him.

So now here she was, sitting on his pretty tummy with her mind lost in thought, trying to find the right moment to bring up that goddamn email with the most luring offer she'd ever gotten since the beginning of her career. She didn't want to upset him by saying she wanted to move, but she needed to talk about it. She knew in her heart that the job fit her needs and her dreams. She knew it was the right place to go to, and no matter how convenient living in LA made her relationship with Shawn, it was high time she gave herself the opportunity to grow. And who was she kidding, she wouldn't ever find anyone more supportive than him no matter how hard she tried, so yes, she knew it would practically take nothing for Shawn to support her with this decision, but the fact that she'd have to do it by that night before he we went back on the road did give her a good amount of stress.

"Baby, is everything okay? You haven't registered a single word I said."

His fingers resting on her waist drew small soothing circles on her skin as he pulled her closer to him, craning his neck up to meet her halfway and leave comforting kisses, the first to her lips and the second on the tip of her nose. She gave him a small smile that anyone would gladly accept, but Shawn being Shawn knew it was half-assed and could see the worry roaming behind her beautiful eyes.

"So is this the part where you tell me what's wrong or do I have to ask again?"

There was no avoiding it anymore, she had to talk about it. She slid off his frame and sat down, pulling her legs close to her chest. The sudden change in her demeanor caused Shawn to straighten up against the headboard and face her. She saw the lines his concern drew on his forehead and before even she could reach her hand out to smoothen them his big paws engulfed her tiny, warm ones, fingers carefully lacing into hers.

"Now spill, I'm listening." His reassuring smile that came after was enough to get the conversation started.

"Okay." She dragged, not knowing where to begin. His patient eyes didn't leave hers for even just a second as she reminded him of the application she made the first time and then told him about the offer, the position, the work she'd be doing and how it seemed a lot more interesting when compared to what she was doing at the moment. Shawn was always a good listener, and just like every other time, he paid attention to every detail and didn't cut her off a single time so that she could fully pour out how she felt about everything. She told him the whole story and finally let out a breath she didn't know she was holding in for that long.

"So yeah, that's what's up. I love the offer but I'm scared about moving and I don't know if it's the right thing to do."

"Okay first of all, I'm so proud of you, love. I can't ever say this enough but I am literally" a kiss to her lips, "sooo proud of you. I knew you'd get it, you are the most talented writer I know, and I mean that with my entire being." It was funny how even after more than a year of being with him she still giggled and blushed at his compliments like a kid in high school.

"What does your heart say?"

"My heart says I should take the leap and try something new. This is probably what I've always wanted in terms of my career. But I think-"

"No 'buts' baby. If this is what you want, you should go for it. What's stopping you?"

"This. Us. Me being in LA makes it so easy for us, we always get to see each other a lot more because at the end of the day this is where we both work. And yes we're both Canadian but let's face it, how often do we actually visit home?" The crack in her voice at the end gave her away and her glossy eyes fell to their intertwined hands, tears threatening to spill out.

"Hey, look at me. Look right at me." He now had his hands pressed against her cheeks and he lifted her face up so she could meet his gaze.

"We can make this work no matter where you go. You could be in fucking space and I will still love you just as much as I do right now. I love you so much, but you will never hold yourself back for the sake of our distance. Not under my watch. Okay?" And that was all it took for the tears to tumble down her face, except for that they ended up being happy ones.

"I love you so much, Shawn."

"And I love you more."

Her hands went to either side of his neck and he pulled her closer as her soft, pink lips connected with his. He pushed his tongue against hers and kissed her back with everything he had. His neck tilted sideways to give her a better angle, their mouths doing a patterned choreography that they knew all too well. He ended it with one wet kiss square on her lips, the smooching sound making her giggle loudly. They stayed that way, foreheads touching each other's, her hands, one around his neck and the other grabbing his hair, and his arms wrapped around her tiny frame pressed against his chest. This was all they ever wanted, young and in love, staying in bed an hour after they woke up, silly kisses and even sillier I love you's. It was perfect.

"So there's something I've been keeping secret for a while because I wanted to wait till the end of tour. But right now feels like the perfect moment to tell you. Also the fact that I don't think I can keep it in anymore, but that's secondary."

"Go on." She nodded, sitting back down while smiling at him.

"I did a lot of thinking and I realised that the end of four albums and four tours is a good time to take a much needed break and live a little normal life." He made air quotes on 'normal'. "And it would also make more time for me to spend with you. We deserve to have a normal relationship too, you know?"

"Shawn I'm so glad you realise you need a break."

"Wait I'm not done yet, here's the best part. The condo in Toronto is dull and empty, so... I'm coming with you to Toronto. I'll be there as soon as I'm done with tour " He smiled at her.

"Shawn, you don't have to! You have so much going on for you over here."

"No, I want to. I'll stay for however long, record the next album over there whenever I feel like it, but I'm going to be right there. I'll be there after a long day of work to give you back rubs, I'll be there to cook you some pasta, give you endless cuddles, keep you up on a weeknight for.. you know what." He had to add a little wink in there. "Point is, I love you and I love my job but I need a break from it to love you and myself a little more. And there is nothing in the world that I want more than that right now. So yes, I'm coming with you to Toronto."

She was at a loss for words. She didn't know what to say. The wide smile pasted on her lips and the tears in her eyes told Shawn more than her words could ever. Not knowing how to react, she plunged into his arms with a shriek and he let out a loud laugh as his back hit the mattress, her body going down with his.

"This is really happening." She breathed out, feeling his lips press a kiss to the crown of her head. His fingers stroked her hair and their smiles didn't seem to fade for what felt like hours. She could already imagine going to see her parents or his on weekends, build forts for movie night, reconnect with their old friends and relatives, get to take Karen's dog on walks, house parties, everything. Just the mere picture of their life in Toronto was enough to fill her with a buzz of endorphins. It felt so right. It suddenly felt like her life was pieced back together. She was going to live the life of her dreams, this time with the man of her dreams. It felt perfect.

"So.. Canada, huh?"

"Canada it is."

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

taglist : @theregoesmyherojd @shawnmendez @madatmendes @mendesficsxbombay @samaratheweirdo @mendesassemble @vinylmendes

ask me anything | masterlist

Reply or message me to get added/removed from my taglist.

This is only my third fanfic and I'm still learning, so I hope you liked it. You can take a look at my masterlist for my other works right here. If you have any feedback or tips please feel free to tell me, it would be very much appreciated as I'm still new to this x

-sah

97 notes · View notes

magicalcrwn · 3 years

Text

update!

also hi, i’m alive! i have something to say so let me get this out, okay? maybe this’ll address my inactivity.

first off, i gotta put down this warnings so here we go

tw // mental health issues, depression, mentions of suicide

as you may know, i started this blog around this time and i believe this blog’s 2 year anniversary is coming up soon. i was super into kpop, specifically bangtan, but now i’m just… eh. i still listen to it, i’m not into it as much lately.

since posting “lost, then found” last year, my health just went COMPLETELY down. i was a junior when i posted that and my god, i wasn’t used to being online full time at school and THAT absolutely obliterated any will to live or keep going in me for like the majority of the school year. heck, the pandemic even made me do worse at school. i failed half of my classes and now i’m doing credit recovery classes this year as a senior so i can graduate :/

luckily, i was able to see a therapist around january-february which helped a lot. i believe hybrid learning started around february or march at that time too which also sort of helped even though it was, yknow, hybrid. i was able to somewhat get back onto my feet even though i lacked lots of motivation. HOWEVER i still didnt have the will to write or do anything i love throughout the year.

as i’m writing this, i’m currently in my last year of high school and as mentioned before, i’m trying my best to get my credits in on time to graduate. i had to stop seeing my therapist last month when school started due to scheduling BUT i’ve been doing well compared to last year. i’m back on campus full-time (with mask mandate, thank GOD) and i’m finally able to pull myself back to where i was or better than where i was before the pandemic.

i’m slowly getting back into writing, just step by step. right now, i’ve been starting off with roleplaying on discord and twitter and that’s been helping me get back on my feet. and i also opened an anime/video game blog called @crystillyzed ! rn there’s only one post and its a tears of themis hc post, i’m trying to finish my drafts in there like two of them are 80% done. OH SPEAKING OF ANIME/VIDEO GAMES

during the past year, i’ve started getting back into anime and playing more video games. i used to be super into them before being introduced to kpop. my brother introduced me to jujutsu kaisen a month or two after s1 ended and that got me back into anime. in fact! my current twitter rp account is a jjk oc!! i might bring my oc onto tumblr but i havent checked the community here. as of video games, i’ve been playing final fantasy xiv a lot with both of my brothers. and my bf, THATS RIGHT BF IM DATING A HIMBO AND I LVOE HE, introduced me to genshin impact!! i started playing genshin around the start of last month and i’m already in inazuma at ar 36. i’ll prob start writing for genshin on the other blog.

while i’m no longer into kpop as much anymore, i still love bts and txt even though at this point i’m just someone streaming their releases. yeah, i’m super behind on btxt content. i still wanna continue writing on this blog, but i may rebrand and just write whatever or whenever i feel like writing. this is still a hobby and one i enjoy a lot.

this is a super hefty update post but if you read all the way to the end, thank you for sticking around AND ALSO! I HIT 200 FOLLOWERS??? WHAT. THANK YOU OMG I WANTED TO DO A FOLLOWER EVENT BUT MAN CONSIDERING HOW DEAD I’VE BEEN ON HERE, I’LL HAVE TO SAVE IT FOR LATER.

ANYWAY this has been lucy!! ily all!!!! 💖💖

#important

2 notes · View notes

ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Field of Poppies Part 13

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 13: War.

England and Germany At War.

Your King and Country Need You.

Tommy was downstairs in the kitchen, sat at the table, chewing on his nail anxiously. The newspaper hadn’t left his hand even though he’d already read the headlines. His brothers were near, they’d shown up to Tommy’s flat with the newspaper in hand. John in the doorway of the kitchen, unsure of where else to stand. Everything felt uprooted. Arthur was leaning against the kitchen counter his face in his hand.

To interrupt the somber mood was the sound of small footsteps skittering down the stairs.

“Daddy!” Max launched into Tommy’s lap.

The toddler seemed to snap him out of his daze. “Hello, hello.” Tommy kissed his cheek and hugged him close.

Amelia came down a few moments later, having been the first-person Max woke up. “Morning.” She greeted as if it were any other day. But there was a tell that things weren’t right. All three of the Shelby boys were in the kitchen. At that time of the morning, they were usually off doing work. Unless there was a family meeting, it was rare for the three to just come over and lounge around the flat. Then she noticed the looks on their faces. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Tommy cleared his throat and handed her the paper.

It didn’t take too long before the news sank in. But she still read the headline a few times just to make sure she was reading it correctly and not just making the words up in her head. “What? But…what does this mean?”

“Means we’ll be shipped off to God knows where.” Arthur lifted his head with an agitated look. He didn’t take kindly to others telling him what to do, even if it was the government. “Fighting for God knows what for God knows how long!”

Tommy didn’t have the heart to tell him to calm down in front of Max. “It won’t be that long.” He muttered.

“How could you possibly know?” The sense of dread and panic settled in fairly quickly for Amelia. "How do you know what they're planning on doing?"

“It’ll be alright.” He assured her without any facts to really base it on. “It might be over before anything happens.”

“But, I-”

“C’mon, nothing we can do right now.” He took the paper from her hands and tossed it onto the table.

“Tom.” Arthur gave him a stern look. “You know-”

“Look,” Tommy spoke over his older brother. “the military will be mobilizing the Rifles. That’s inevitable. But since it’s a volunteer basis, I don’t think they would ship us overseas.”

“Tom, you don’t know that!” Arthur urged.

“Daddy…” Max started to pick up on the worrying atmosphere. “Are you leaving us?”

“No, Max.”

“Tommy, please.” Amelia didn’t want him saying anything that wasn’t true that might break their son’s heart later on.

The room was starting to get a little too loud and crowded for his taste. Tommy got up, set Max down, and walked out of the kitchen without saying anything else.

“Tommy!” Amelia called after him but he simply shut the door behind him.

~~~~~~~~

“It’ll be alright, Thomas.” Charlie was sat in the Yard, mending a bridle.

Tommy was standing near the canal, trying to keep his breathing steady. He shook his head. “What if they ship us overseas?” He asked. “They’re right, how are we supposed to know how long this goes on for? Should’ve bloody seen this coming.” Like other people who read the news every morning, Tommy wasn’t blind to the growing tensions in Europe. Hostilities between countries were growing and treaties were being signed. Just a precaution, everyone said. Just a precaution.

Charlie noticed Amelia before he could say anything else.

“Tommy.” She walked over to him, nodding a curt greeting to his uncle.

“Mel, go back home please.” Tommy ran a hand over his face.

“We need to talk about this.” She urged, not willing to leave him.

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You seemed confident enough back there!” She exclaimed. “You seemed like you knew what you were talking about!”

“I don’t. I don’t know what’s happening. I’m not confident, I’m not confident about anything, how am I supposed to know what they’re going to do?”

When the strongest support beam started to crack, the house would soon fall down. Amelia realized they were utterly helpless to the rest of the world. Small Heath had been a little kingdom, of sorts. Allowing the Shelbys to bend the rules and always come out on top. But when it came to an international dispute, they were nothing. No one considered their opinions, their feelings. They were suddenly lumped into a group of healthy, able men who would be drafted whether they liked it or not. No one cared about the families they had, the lives they led. Nothing. Only the powerful were making decisions that mattered. Tommy and the rest of them were back to where they began. Stuck under the thumb of someone else. It was suffocating.

Amelia hugged him close so he wouldn’t see the tears streaming down her cheeks. She was so frightened and it didn’t help that he was just as scared as she was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was an odd atmosphere over the Garrison that night. No one seemed to be in a jovial mood though the alcohol was alleviating everyone’s burden at least for a while. There wasn’t any news about the Small Heath rifles yet, there was only speculation. But it seemed inevitable that they would be put to use. Armed and set up like little toy soldiers. Puppets.

Tommy got up from the table he was sitting at with his brothers and went to the bar. There, he saw Jeremiah walk in.

“Thomas.” The man gave him a half-hearted smile.

“I’m glad to see you.”

“Eh?” He chuckled as he sat down at the bar. “Why’s that, then? Want to turn to God before we’re shipped off?”

The joke made Tommy’s insides turn but he forced a smile. “I was wondering if you’d marry Amelia and me?”

Jeremiah’s face softened. “Of course. Name a day and I’ll be there.”

“Tomorrow, if you’re not busy.”

“Tomorrow? Well…I suppose that’ll work.”

“Thank you. I’ll come to find you tomorrow.” Tommy said and took his leave from the bar without telling his brothers. He walked down the dark streets which were quieter than usual. Maybe everyone was still trying to process the news.

After unlocking the front door, Tommy found all the downstairs lights were off, the only light left on came from beneath the master bedroom.

He and Amelia hadn’t spoken much more the rest of the day. Tommy didn’t have much else to say and Amelia was so overwhelmed with worry that she couldn’t find any words. But he wasn’t going to let the news put a wedge in their relationship.

After climbing the stairs, Tommy went into the bedroom to find Amelia just getting ready for bed.

“Hey, I thought you were going to stay out with the boys for a bit.”

He didn’t respond, instead, walking over to her to embrace her tightly. He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder.

She didn’t resist and wrapped her arms around him and kissing his jaw. “Tom…”

“Will you marry me tomorrow?” He asked quietly.

“Tomorrow? Why so sudden?”

His hand pressed to the small of her back, holding her closer. “Because I don’t want to wait any longer.” The war suddenly put a lot of things into perspective for Tommy. What if he had gone all this time, and one day he dropped dead? All the time wasted where he could’ve been married to Amelia. Sure, what was a marriage license and a ring in the grand scheme of things? They lived together and were raising a child together. But it was the principle. If he was going to die in this war, he was going to die knowing that he had been married to the love of his life.

“Okay.” She agreed softly. Because she too didn’t want to wait another minute.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry allowed them to get married in the Garrison. Tommy offered to find a better location. Maybe somewhere a bit more romantic than a pub. But Amelia didn’t want to waste time. Plus, she added, they could get married and celebrate with everyone all in one place.

So, there they were wed. Tommy in his nicest suit and Amelia in a blush pink dress, one of the nicest she’d worn since she lived in London. Ada held Max as they all watched the two sweethearts get married.

After quick vows, the wedding erupted into a small celebration of friends and family. Tommy popped a bottle of champagne, probably the most expensive thing they paid for that day, and everyone toasted to the newlyweds.

Outside of the Garrison, far from Birmingham, men were marching to arms. But the windows of the pub kept out the worry over the war. Inside, Tommy and Amelia had a festive time with their loved ones and each other. It was a happy memory. It might not have lasted long, but it was something no one could take away from them. Even if they were separated by the war. At least they had that one night.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @shelbyblinded

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

36 notes · View notes

ducktracy · 4 years

Text

174. get rich quick porky (1937)

release date: august 28th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky), cal howard (gabby), earle hodgins (honest john)

another cartoon that entails a lengthy preface!

while this is bob clampett’s second piece as a director, it’s the first cartoon where he has full control of the helm. his previous entry, porky’s badtime story, was started by ub iwerks, who as preceded the unit. but, technically, clampett was co-directing with chuck jones.

here’s where the famous Clampett-Jones rivalry settles in. bob clampett and chuck jones did not get along. even friz freleng mentioned that they had been fighting like kids since they WERE kids, which is very true. clampett and jones would have both been 24 at the time of the cartoon’s release, jones turning 25 in september. chuck jones thought that he was co-directing the shorts with clampett, doing character layouts (which WAS a very hefty job and considered a director’s job) while clampett did the writing and timing of the shorts. however, the credits only credit clampett and not jones, so jones assumed that clampett had deliberately gotten rid of jones’ credit (to which clampett didn’t have any control over). jones would therefore hold this grudge against clampett all the way to the grave--they were bitter rivals, and chuck especially was very outspoken about his disdain and contempt towards clampett. it’s unfortunate how such a big misunderstanding can be inflated into such a bitter rivalry, and even more unfortunate to see two great talents go against each other, but that explains that. we’re here to analyze their great cartoons, not gossip about them! (...well, not ALL the time, anyway.)

a second extra little treat is that this cartoon has an animator’s draft, courtesy of devon baxter, so that we can see who animated every single scene! devon also has a breakdown video posted so you can see the credits in conjunction with the assigned animation. thanks a bunch, devon!

gabby goat sings his swan song in this fun, light-hearted clampett entry tentatively titled the oily bird gets porky: porky and gabby are easily swindled by honest john, a snake oil (emphasis on the oil portion!) salesman who scams the boys into thinking they’ve struck it rich digging for oil.

“when my dreamboat comes home” fittingly scores the title card as the cartoon opens. in some clever signage play, the camera trucks back to reveal the title card posted on a sign--the screen fades out, fading back in to reveal a new sign (now scored with the appropriate “with plenty of money and you”) advertising “oh! ~~~ just oodles of oil!”, with the oil typography actually dripping, courtesy of norm mccabe.

john carey provides the animation of the facetiously named honest john, the antagonistic oil huckster of the film. a fun bit of clampett continuity: from 1959-1962, clampett would make a cartoon adaptation of his hit puppet series time for beany. one of the characters, the show’s antagonist, was actually named dishonest john! honest john chuffs on a cigarette (his wealth and snootiness indicated by the cigarette holder he sports) as a truck driver asks where to deposit his “erl”. john, voiced by earle hodgins, redirects the trucker to park around the fence. it is then that john attaches a hose from the oil tank attached to the truck to a sprinkler system, and presto! sweet, bubbling “erl” spouts up from hidden sprinklers within a patch of land. carey’s animation is very smooth and dimensional, a telltale trait of his work.

satisfied, john now opts to search for his next pair of suckers (”ahem. i should say prospects. someone with a little money to invest in...”) lo and behold, his pair of suckers are right across the street, marching up to the bank.

said suckers, are, of course, porky and gabby, now cast as children. for porky especially, his age was inconsistent in the ‘30′s and early ‘40′s cartoons--sometimes he was a child, sometimes he was an adult. more often than not, he was a young adult, and would obviously remain that way through the vast majority of his filmography, but there are a few exceptions, such as here. after all, he did debut as a school child. bobe cannon animates the closeup of the duo at the bank, porky toting a bag of money. gabby, voiced here by storyman cal howard as opposed to mel blanc, urges porky not to store away his money (”let’s buy us a car, or a yacht, or a trip to europe, or a chocolate soda or somethin’!), but porky refuses. “uh-uh, i’m eh-geh-geh-geh-gonna sock my eh-meh-mo-mo--dough in here and get eh-teh-teh-two percent!” bobe’s animation of porky is easy to spot in the clampett toons, especially around 1938-1939, where he would typically draw porky with buck teeth.

suddenly, honest john swoops in himself to stop the boys from going any further. he introduces himself as john gusher, doing some gushing of his own as he describes how fortune is going to smile down upon them. jerry hathcock’s timing is excellent as he shows the kid his card, zipping it out of his pocket and back in again at the blink of an eye. without giving the boys any time to think for themselves, john pushes the kids to the oil site, ranting and raving about the wondrous business opportunity before them. to demonstrate, john jabs his cane into the soil, where a mini oil gusher spurts up on command--”presto!”

more succinct comedic timing as john, finally winding down his spiel, concludes “i won’t take any more of your valuable time. a little parting word, let me say...” after a pause, he jumps right back in with a breathless delivery of “this land is so saturated with oil that you can literally wring it out with your fingers!” he does, of course, just that, much to the delight of the kids.

john carey takes over and does a rather impressive little scene of porky and gabby contemplating signing the deed. gabby urges porky on, telling him that they won’t get another chance like this (prompting a rather humorous delivery of “uh... ‘til death do us part” from earle hodgins as john.) carey’s animation is extremely smooth, brimming with subtle character action. porky and gabby’s differences shine, but also unite: gabby is much more outspoken about his eagerness to sign the deed, nudging porky and literally pushing him to sign the deed. porky, on the other hand, is more cautious and timid, having to mull it over by thinking and tapping his chin with the pen. but, of course, porky shares gabby’s excitement--it doesn’t take much for him to change his mind. he signs the deed, gabby excitedly looming over his shoulder. even the animation of john tapping and signaling towards the deed is well crafted. john carey’s animation is very appealing--once chuck jones would leave the clampett unit, carey would take over as his layout man, all the way until 1941 when he moved to norm mccabe’s unit.

the boys are now excused, free to dig for oil. the shift from minor to major key in the underscore of “with plenty of money and you” reflects their excitement as they rush to get the equipment. bobe cannon animates gabby drilling into the soil--he strikes something, and sure enough, he hauls up an entire canister of oil. he’s delighted, rather than outraged or confused at being scammed, gleefully remarking “porky, look! oil!”

thus sparks the B plot of the cartoon. this isn’t as segmented as other clampett cartoons with A and B plots as, say, porky’s party, but it’s a start--clampett would sort of introduce the concept of having A and B plots in his cartoons, which wasn’t quite something that existed before in pre-existing warner bros. cartoons (off the top of my head, anyway.) a stray dog stumbles upon the oil site, curiously approaching the dirt pile left by porky as he digs for sweet, sweet “erl”. much to the dog’s delight, porky digs up a bone, which the dog takes away and buries for himself. the scene (animated by bill hammer) definitely takes inspiration after the rising popularity in pluto cartoons over at disney, demonstrating that WB wasn’t entirely free from the disney stranglehold just yet.

as the dog digs, the bone is suddenly propelled into the air by a mini-gusher. dog carefully covers the gusher by lowering the bone down, but gets smacked in the face in the process as the gusher propels upwards once more. bill hammer was an animator over at the iwerks unit, and a bit of that iwerks flavor is still present in the dizzy lines hammer animates after the dog gets struck in the head with the bone. resigned, the pooch covers the hole back up, only to get squirted in the eye by another gusher. and, to top it all off, we have more Naughty Clampett Humor as the gusher from before brushes against the dog’s nether regions, prompting him to giggle delightedly. this isn’t the first nor last gag of its kind in a warner bros cartoon--especially a clampett cartoon! frantically, the dog attempts to plug up all of the rapidly appearing gushers beneath him, a double-exposure technique used to convey the urgency of his plight. gushers prevail as the pup is launched into the air, propelled by a stream of oil beneath each paw. in all, the scene drags along and definitely plays into that “curious puppy” humor filled with polite chuckles, but some of hammer’s poses and facial expressions make for a treat.

back to the boys in the next sequence, handled by bobe cannon. gabby, perched on a jackhammer, asks porky how to operate it, but he immediately begins drilling uncontrollably before he can finish his sentence. cal howard’s vocals as gabby are amusing, especially his ad-libbed cries for help--his gabby is less scratchy and high pitched than mel’s gabby, and instead deeper voiced and more goat-like in inflection, sounding like he’s bleating at certain points. porky rushes to speak into the hole that gabby dug himself into, anxiously asking “uh-guh-eh-guh-eh-gabby! uh-weh-eh-where are ya?” gabby answers his query by digging out of an adjacent hole, breaking cartoon physics by drilling and floating upside down in the air. he manages to land safely, the drill stopping just enough for him to chew porky out for not helping him. and, of course, the drill starts up again, sending gabby within the earth’s soil once more. porky asks if he’s alright, prompting a bleat-y “what do you think!?” from an offscreen gabby. it should be noted that the underscore here is, of course, “the merry go round broke down”, a rather fitting and amusing choice. interestingly enough, clampett’s next entry, roval’s rival, would be the first cartoon to debut that song as the looney tunes theme song, which would be used all the way up until the last short in 1969.

chuck jones hones in on one of his three specialties: dogs (the others being drunks and close-ups--sometimes all three at once!) he animates the malcontent pooch fiddling with his bone. a bump in the ground, and a gopher pops up, doing a little twirl in the process, bugs bunny style, like a magic trick. clampett always fostered a love of magic tricks, and this fascination pokes through in this scene. the gopher signals for the dog’s attention before ducking inside the hole, much to the dog’s delight--a hole to bury his bone into! as he tosses the bone inside, he’s treated with a rude awakening as the bone is hurled right back up out of the hole. jones’ timing varies wonderfully--the dog is slow to put his bone back in the hole, but once he does he jumps to cover it up quickly, resulting in some intriguing psuedo-smears. after all, it would be his own cartoon, the dover boys at pimento university, that really brought the magic of smears to life. the animation of the dog twitching his eye on one’s is another great touch.

the gopher returns to bonk the dog on the head with the bone, which segues into a series of magic tricks (scored fittingly with “she was an acrobat’s daughter”.) the gopher shrinks the bone into his hand, reducing it to nothingness, much to the befuddlement of the pooch. tried and true, the gopher brings the bone out from behind the dog’s ear, pointing at it excitedly as the pup can only stare in bewilderment. gopher buries the bone, signaling for the dog to dig it back up. delighted, fido digs for his beloved bone, and is greeted with a spurt of oil right in the face. to top it off, the gopher brings the bone out from the recesses of the dog’s mouth, ending the show by retreating back in his hole. heartbroken, the pup begins to cry mournfully, pounding his fists against the ground and kicking his legs. in all, the scene is a very nice one. not very snappy, but chuck’s timing is full of momentum and personality, and his drawings are very appearing. there are some angles of the dog’s head that just SCREAM chuck jones--they look like something straight out of one of his cartoons. some aspects of these magic tricks, such as the gopher shrinking the bone to nothingness, would be used in chuck’s own cartoon, prest-o change-o, a mere two years later in 1939. the gopher itself IS very bugs bunny-esque in execution.

transition back to our piggy protagonist, hacking away at the ground with a pick-axe. he hits a sweet spot, excitedly reaching for his bucket as oil spurts out of the ground. just as he’s able to collect a few drops, we cut to our favorite huckster john, who snickers as he turns the hose valve off, thus eliminating the geyser. porky digs again, this time striking one of the sprinkler systems connected to the hose. we get a closeup, where porky is squirted straight in the eye by the hose.

honest john himself opts to scope things out. “what’s the matter, sonny boy? you aren’t discouraged, are you?” porky displays his childlike innocence (a property that would carry on to his adult years as well, but is especially strong here since he is a kid in this picture) as he wipes away his tears. “you’re je-je-je-just a crook, and i want my muh-me-muh-me-muh-me-money back!” john, ever the haggler, proposes that porky return the deed in return for a $1 bill.

norm mccabe takes over from john hathcock, whose animation is muddied by noticeably poor inking. pan to the ground, where we see a black slick hiding under the soil, the words “OIL!” bubbling up to make its appearance obvious, with gabby drilling dangerously close to it. pan back up to more norm mccabe animation, a switch--clampett LOVED to switch his animators around. so much so that identifying his later cartoons can be infuriatingly difficult because he would switch his animators in the middle of a scene out of seemingly nowhere. he wasn’t the only director to do this, but he certainly did it often. nevertheless, we pan back to porky and john. porky trepidatiously prepares to hand john the deed, who greets it with outstretched hands. just as gloves prepare to make contact with paper, gabby strikes the “SAME OIL!”, the typography playfully melting into a true oil geyser as goat, weasel, and pig are all catapulted into the air by a real, genuine gusher, scored by (what else?) “we’re in the money”. the layout of the oil geyser raining down upon the camera is at a nice up-angle, very tashlin-esque and intricate, if only for a second or two.

gabby still drills aimlessly around on the geyser as porky, holding onto the deed with john, remarks “a guh-gusher! i’m r-ri--i’m w-we-weal--i’m a buh-be-buh-be-buh-billionaire!” suddenly, porky realizes he’s still holding onto the deed with john, and thus sparking a tug of war between the two as he stutters threats (”i’ll tell my be-be-big brother on you!”) to the huckster.

thankfully, gabby, who has been drilling aimlessly for the past few minutes, saves the day by accidentally drilling into the back of john’s pants. earle hodgins’ screams are hilarious (and sound almost genuine), as is bill hammer’s animation of the weasel being held hostage by the drill running around in the back of his pants. the deed is now in porky’s clutches, who grabs gabby and pulls the both of them to the ground. hammer’s drawings of porky especially in this last shot of them preparing to fall down are very, VERY appealing and cute.

both kids on the ground, porky holds up the white, elongated object in his hand, gleefully declaring he got the deed... or so he thinks. jerry hathcock does porky’s closeup as he realizes the precious deed he holds in his hand is, in fact, a bone.

dejected, the kids are left to mope, until a little bump in the ground comes to solve all of their problems. chuck jones animates the final scene of the Magic Gopher coming in to save the day: porky hands him the bone, and, much to his head-shaking surprise, is met with the deed right in the gopher’s hands after just a flick of the wrists. porky reaches out for the deed, prompting the gopher to shake his finger--always a catch.

“partners? 50-50, even steven?” porky nods. with the deal made, the gopher helpfully rips the deed in half, giving porky the bottom half. iris out on the gopher winking, holding up the top half of the deed (emblazoned as such) in victory.

while this isn’t the most rousing clampett entry of them all, it’s certainly one that i revisit quite often and am rather fond of. it has plenty of fun and intriguing animation--john carey’s scene of the boys signing the deed is just fantastic. his animation is very grounded and smooth. while the psuedo-pluto scenes aren’t the most exciting pieces of work around, the chuck jones sequence with the gopher and dog are especially impressive, highlighting just how strong jones’ draftmanship was. clampett’s cartoons became much more wild and loose after jones left the unit (just look at porky in wackyland), and chuck certainly seemed to ground clampett, but at the same time, the lack of jones’ draftsmanship was rather apparent upon his exit. he’s a very strong force, and that sequence with the dog is no exception. earle hodgins does a great job as honest john, as well as voicing salesmen in general--he was also the salesman in tex avery’s porky the rainmaker a year earlier. i love mel blanc to death and have nothing but praises to shower him in, but it is always fun to have other people like earle hodgins to come up and voice characters alongside him. cal howard does a fine job as gabby, too.

speaking of gabby, as i mentioned earlier, this is his final cartoon. i have this odd fascination with gabby. these clampett cartoons i’m going to be reviewing are some of the first LT cartoons i watched as an adult, and therefore have a fonder place in my heart than others. so, watching the iwerks cartoons that clampett was heavily involved in, gabby was introduced to me VERY early on and i’ve been fascinated with him since. out of his three entries, he became more and more watered down: his fury and anger is practically nonexistent here in comparison to how bitter he was in porky and gabby. while i find him interesting, i don’t shed too many tears over his absence--daffy will always be porky’s best sidekick, and i’m not saying that because i’m biased! nevertheless, gabby is an interesting enigma, serving as WB’s failed attempt at a donald duck for porky’s mickey (who is much richer in personality than mickey himself, as we’ll explore, much to my unbridled excitement!) gabby WAS slated to return in porky’s party, alongside petunia, but was instead scrapped for a penguin character instead. thus, gabby would take a near 80 year absence, being revived in 2018 in wabbit/new looney tunes, voiced by bob bergen.

so, overall, i recommend this cartoon! i view it more fondly than it probably needs to be viewed, but it’s a fun, early entry that makes for a good, leisurely watch.

link!

#lt #looney tunes #get rich quick porky #clampett #reviews #long post #i'm gonna try putting a readmore so i don't clutter up dashes.. but please read it! i don't want that to make these get less exposure #i don't do these for clout of course i do it for educational purposes because i want to share my passion and love for these cartoons with #you guys so you know what's going on and why i love these cartoons so much #but i don't spend 5 hours on one cartoon for 0 notes yaknow? so if the reviews with readmores get significantly less traction/overlooked #then i'll stop 'em. but we'll see...!

22 notes · View notes

emospritelet · 4 years

Text

Key to the Cell - chapter 13

Last time, Belle freed Rumplestiltskin from the clutches of the Blue Fairy and returned home.

[AO3]

After her night of travelling through portals, freeing fairies and releasing the Dark One from the spell containing him, Belle was exhausted. She had hoped to sleep a little later than usual, but news of Gaston’s unconscious state had spread through the castle, and it was in uproar. Maurice himself hammered on Belle’s bedroom door when she was still in her dressing gown, pacing back and forth and ranting about how her intended might never wake up.

“What are we to do, Belle?” he asked, almost wringing his hands. “All those plans for a good marriage, for the merging of our lands! All gone if he dies! I should have insisted that you marry him weeks ago! I shouldn’t have let you talk me into all this waiting!”

“He slipped in his bath, you said.” Belle beckoned to Marilee to enter. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Has anyone sent for a healer?”

“Yes, but they won’t be here for hours!”

“Well, there seems little point in panicking,” said Belle. “I suggest we have breakfast and wait for the healer to arrive.”

“But the King is here!” persisted Maurice. “The guests! The wedding!”

“Isn’t for another week,” said Belle calmly. “If we have to postpone until he wakes up, then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll explain to the guests that Sir Gaston is ill and needs rest and quiet. We can see them off after breakfast.”

“How can you be so casual about this?” demanded Maurice. “This man is to be your husband! You’re to own these lands after you’re wed! If he dies before he makes you his wife, I don’t know where I’ll find another suitor of his calibre!”

“I suggest we worry about that when it becomes an issue,” said Belle, her voice cool. “From what you say, Sir Gaston is very much alive. If a good deal quieter than usual.”

“The master’s a strong man, milord,” said Marilee diffidently, hands clasped at her waist. “If anyone can survive a blow to the head like that, it’s him. He’s taken worse while jousting.”

“Yes, yes, I suppose you’re right,” sighed Maurice, running a hand through his hair. “We must all pray for his swift recovery.”

“Of course,” said Belle neutrally. “We all want that. Marilee, I believe I’ll wear the green today.”

“Very good, milady.”

“Papa, I’ll see you at breakfast,” said Belle. “I’m sure Sir Gaston will be up and about and bellowing orders before you know it.”

Maurice gave her an exasperated look, but threw up his hands in defeat and stomped out. Belle sighed in relief. A few days of peace. I shall make the most of it.

After breakfast, and once she had bid farewell to their guests and accepted their good wishes for Sir Gaston’s speedy recovery, she selected a book and casually asked Marilee to send the new maid to bring her parasol out to the garden. She walked amongst the last of the summer flowers, breathing in the scent of them. The autumn air was cool despite the sun, and the leaves on many of the trees were starting to turn, the treetops kissed with red and orange, as though fire was devouring them. The patter of footsteps on the path behind her made her turn, and she smiled as Gerta hurried up to her, parasol in her hands.

“Oh, milady, I’m so glad you’re safe!” she gasped. “I couldn’t sleep a wink last night for worrying!”

“I’m fine,” said Belle warmly, taking the parasol. “I take it the steward believed your story?”

“I’m not sure he even listened to me,” said Gerta, wrinkling her nose. “As soon as I said the master had fallen, he shoved me aside and went running. But never mind about me, milady, what about you? And - and him?”

“I did as I promised,” said Belle, smiling at the memory. “And a little more besides. The Dark One was content with our bargain, and considers it paid in full.”

“Thank goodness,” said Gerta, sounding relieved. “I was so worried that he might try to trick you. Do you think he’s right about the master? Will he really remember nothing?”

“If Rumplestiltskin says so, then I believe him,” said Belle. “He keeps his word. You’re safe, Gerta, I promise.”

Gerta hesitated, fingers twisting in her apron.

“It’s - it’s not my place, milady, but - but the master is - well, he’s - he’s not a kind man.”

“Indeed he is not,” said Belle dryly. “My father insists upon my marrying him, though. The wedding is in a week.”

“What if the master doesn’t wake up in time?” asked Gerta. “What if he forgets he’s supposed to be getting married? My uncle got kicked in the head by a cow once. Out cold for four days and when he came to he couldn’t remember anything past turning thirty-two. Bit of a shock for my aunt.”

“Rumplestiltskin said three days,” said Belle. “I suppose he understands how his magic works far better than I.”

“You say his name so easily,” whispered Gerta, her expression one of awe tinged with fear. “I think I’d be scared to, in case I called on him by accident. Making deals is all very well, but I can’t imagine what the Dark One might do if you disturbed him for nothing.”

“Well, he doesn’t frighten me,” said Belle. “I think he’s a good man, beneath it all. Better than he thinks he is.”

“Begging your pardon, but I think you try to see the best in everyone,” said Gerta, and Belle smiled.

“I do,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Over the next two days, Belle had the most peaceful time she had enjoyed since arriving at Sir Gaston’s castle. She spent her days seated in the gardens with her books on magic, and her evenings shut away in the library, practising everything she had read. Maurice and the servants fretted over Gaston’s unconscious body, but the healer had inspected him, had shrugged and prescribed a poultice for the head wound.

“He’ll either wake or he won’t,” she said, with a matter-of-fact air that made the steward exchange uneasy looks with Sir Maurice. “Three days will tell, I reckon.”

There was only one thing to cause Belle distress, and that was the news of the approaching ogre horde. The servants returned from town full of stories of the horrors that awaited any men that tried to push the creatures back. Tales of the earlier Ogre Wars were told, in which thousands of men and even children had been drafted to stand against them, and had been cut down like barley. The tales made Belle uneasy; although there had been no battles against the ogres yet, it was only a matter of time before the King decided that he had to deal with the threat massing on the border of his realm.

On the third day, Gaston woke up.

Belle flinched at the sound of his disgruntled bellowing, audible even from behind the closed door of the library. She buried her nose in her book, eyes scanning the words of a new spell she had not yet mastered. A binding spell. It was far more complicated than anything else she had tried, and suitable only for defensive purposes, but she thought it a useful thing to learn, nonetheless. She thought she could see a way to adapt it, using something similar to the book she had used to call on the Dark One. A question for Rumplestiltskin, when she next saw him.

“Belle!”

Maurice burst into the library, breathless and red-faced, and she sighed and laid her book aside.

“Gaston is awake!” he said urgently. “Our prayers have been answered!”

Your prayers, perhaps.

“Is he well?” she asked.

“As well as ever, and calling for ale!” laughed Maurice. “Come, I’ll take you to him. This wedding is happening, my girl!”

Belle wanted to sigh, but got to her feet. Not if I have anything to say about it.

Rumplestiltskin had been true to his word. Gaston remembered nothing that had happened in her bedchamber, his last memories being of the hunt, and those somewhat hazy.

“Must have been riding at an incredible speed, to have knocked myself out like that,” he declared, banging his cup on the table to call for more ale. “Damn stag almost killed me, but I brought it down! No shame to fall in the hunt if you get back up again!”

“You fell in your bath,” said Belle, but he wasn’t listening, and Maurice glared at her.

“Have all preparations been made for the wedding feast?” asked Gaston, reaching for the plate of roasted pheasant and tearing off a leg.

“Everything is in hand, milord,” said the steward, bowing. “The King has sent word, though.”

He handed over a letter, and Gaston sniffed, wiping grease from his hands and breaking the wax seal to scan the letter.

“He plans to move against the ogres,” he announced. “The Duke’s army has marched on them today, and King George plans to join him in a week. He wants to know that he can count on my support. Seems like we’re headed to war, Sir Maurice.”

“But - fighting the ogres.” Belle shook her head. “The men will be slaughtered. Everyone has heard what happens to armies sent against them.”

Gaston snorted, handing the letter to Maurice..

“They’re not so tough,” he said. “My men and I have encountered ogres before, and they came off worse, believe me.”

“Then why do all reports that I hear suggest that the ogres are formidable?” asked Belle, and Gaston shrugged.

“Cowards will always find an excuse.”

“Indeed,” said Maurice, reading the King’s letter. “Still, they are not to be underestimated.”

“Perhaps we ought to delay the wedding until after the battle,” suggested Belle, and Gaston chuckled.

“What, with everything arranged? I think not. The battle is a week away. What difference will a few hours make?”

“It’ll mean a short honeymoon,” observed Maurice.

“Only takes one night, eh?” Gaston guffawed, slapping him on the back, and Maurice looked as uncomfortable as Belle felt.

“It means the King won’t be able to attend the wedding, of course,” said Gaston, reaching for the pheasant again. “Nor Prince James. No doubt Lady Belle will be disappointed.”

“Not at all, I assure you,” said Belle tonelessly.

“The ceremony can still take place,” said Maurice. “You can be married, and we can have a proper celebration when the ogres are defeated.”

“In eight days’ time, then,” said Gaston, and downed his ale in one.

The day before the wedding, Belle woke with a start, nerves making her belly flutter and tighten. This evening he’ll come. What will he do? What will I say to him? I know what I want to say, but will I get the chance?

She could barely concentrate all through the day, but luckily Maurice and Gaston were closeted in the Great Hall, discussing the approaching ogre horde, and their possible plan of attack. Belle had her own preparations to make, and tried to summon all her concentration to channel magic through the crystal wand. Whether she had been successful in her attempts at magic would not become clear until she had to use what she had created.

As the sun sank towards the horizon, Belle had Marilee dress her in the gold gown that she had worn to the ball. Her wedding dress hung in the closet, along with a long veil of embroidered lace. It had been the wedding gown of Gaston’s mother, with a frothy skirt of white gauze, crystals studding the bodice and a high collar edged with pearls. Belle hoped she would never have to wear the thing.

She made her way down to the Great Hall, a book tucked under one arm. The sound of raised voices reached her before she entered, and she found her father and Gaston bent over a map of the kingdom, rolled out on the large table with markers for troop movements. Shadows stretched long and thin on the floor, the setting sun going down in a blaze of fire.

“If the tales are true, this is a disaster in the making,” Maurice was saying. “We must change our plans. The King cannot hope to prevail.”

“The men were unprepared,” said Gaston shortly.

“The men were slaughtered!”

“The Duke’s auxiliaries!” Gaston straightened, scowling. “Thieves and cutpurses, for the most part, not proper troops! What were they thinking, attacking before the King’s armies joined them?”

“What has happened?” asked Belle, and both men looked around.

“A minor setback,” said Gaston, waving a hand.

“A battalion of the Duke’s soldiers came upon three of the ogre scouts,” said Maurice curtly. “They attacked, and the ogres destroyed them. Almost to a man. The stories of the ogre horde are true. This is not a war that can be won by force.”

“The King thinks otherwise!” snapped Gaston.

“Then the King is a fool.”

Gaston pounded the table with his fist.

“We do not run from these creatures!” he shouted. “They run from us! Shall I tell the King you turned traitor?”

“My father is no traitor,” said Belle, glaring at him. “But no more is he an idiot. If the war is unwinnable, we must find a way to make peace.”

“You cannot reason with these creatures!”

“Has anyone tried?” she retorted.

“We have to do something,” said Maurice desperately. “We have to stop them!”

“Well, perhaps you can.”

A snide, familiar voice came from behind them, and Belle turned on her toes to see Rumplestiltskin lolling in Gaston’s chair, eyes alight with mischief. He was dressed from head to foot in tight black leather, the collar of his coat standing high, brushing the curls of his hair. Belle felt her heart begin to thump hard. He came! He’s here!

“Who are you?” asked Maurice roughly, and Rumplestiltskin bounced out of the chair, bending one leg in an elaborate bow.

“Rumplestiltskin,” he announced. “Or as others know me, the Dark One.”

“The Dark One,” breathed Maurice. “The most powerful man in all the realms.”

“He’s an evil imp,” said Gaston sourly. “We need no dark magic here.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” said Rumplestiltskin lazily. “The ogres are quite upset, you know. Only blood will suffice. The blood of one person in particular.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Belle, and he eyed her for a moment, his gaze dropping briefly to the book in her arms before flicking back to her eyes.

“I heard an interesting tale from the ogres,” he said.

“You - you spoke to the ogres?” asked Maurice.

“The most important part of deal-making,” said Rumplestiltskin. “Is finding out what the other party wants more than anything. Take the ogres, for example. They spoke of a dark-haired man in a red doublet, who kidnapped one of their children several weeks ago, and tortured him. What they want, more than anything, is that man’s head on a spike.”

He pointed at Gaston, and Belle felt her mouth fall open.

“So I tortured one of them,” said Gaston, with a shrug. “So what? How else would I find out what my men might face when going against them? Everyone’s heard of the Ogre Wars. Their numbers have been swelling for years. It was only a matter of time before they attacked again. We had to be prepared for what might come.”

“You tortured a child?” said Belle, horrified.

“It wasn’t human!”

“What difference does that make?”

“Like I said,” interrupted Rumplestiltskin. “His head on a spike. A simple enough request to prevent all that war and bloodshed.”

“Begone, demon!” snarled Gaston. “My men are loyal to me! No one will betray me on the words of a twisted little imp!”

Rumplestiltskin pursed his lips, shrugging.

“In that case,” he said. “I could offer the ogres something else. You have mountains to the east, enough space to allow them to settle down and live peacefully. I’m sure they could be persuaded to call off this war in exchange for a place to call their own.”

“Yes!” said Maurice eagerly. “The mountains straddle both my land and Sir Gaston’s. I say yes.”

“I say that the Dark One is not to be trusted,” said Gaston suspiciously. “Why would he do this great favour and ask nothing in return?”

“Oh, you’re right, there is a price,” agreed Rumplestiltskin, tapping his fingers together. He seemed to be enjoying their discomfort, his eyes twinkling. Belle felt as though her heart would beat its way through her chest.

“We have gold!” said Maurice. “I’m sure the King would contribute, he—”

“Ah.” Rumplestiltskin shook his head regretfully. “No, you see, I make gold. What I want is something a bit more - special.”

He was pacing, slow, swaggering steps, circling around the two men.

“My price,” he said. “Is her.”

He had turned on his toes, pointing at Belle, and Maurice let out a sound of horror. Belle met Rumplestiltskin’s gaze with her head held high, and he winked.

“The young lady is engaged,” said Gaston harshly. “To me!”

He stepped in front of Belle, and she frowned at his back, slipping around him again. Gaston threw an arm up in front of her, keeping her in place.

“I wasn’t asking if she was engaged.” Rumplestiltskin waved a hand, looking amused. “I’m looking for an apprentice. And I want her.”

“What, so you can turn her into your whore, Dark One?” he sneered. “I think not.”

Belle opened her mouth angrily, but Rumplestiltskin tutted, shaking his head.

“I said an apprentice,” he said. “Not a lover.”

“You expect me to believe that you’d take someone of Lady Belle’s face and form and train her in magic?”

“What do her looks have to do with her potential?” Rumplestiltskin sounded genuinely baffled. “I asked for an apprentice. She doesn’t need to be pretty to mix potions, and the fact that your mind took a swan-dive into the gutter is hardly my concern.”

“She doesn’t know one end of a wand from the other!” Gaston’s tone was jeering. “She’s - she’s just a girl! She has no ability beyond embroidery!”

Belle could feel anger rising in her at Gaston’s incredulity at anyone seeing anything beyond her beauty. She was about to inform him exactly where she would shove the next magic wand she found, but Rumplestiltskin caught her eye briefly, as though he could read her mind. She sank back on her heels, glowering at Gaston’s back.

“Well, perhaps my assessment of her abilities is more accurate than yours,” said Rumplestiltskin. “It’s her, or no deal.”

“But - but - she’s betrothed!” said Maurice, looking appalled. “The King himself agreed to the match!”

Rumplestiltskin shrugged.

“He’s not my king.”

“They’re to be married tomorrow!” persisted Maurice.

“Oh, inviting the ogres to the wedding breakfast, are you?” said Rumplestiltskin snidely. “How very open-minded of you. Be sure to provide extra ale, I hear they have a head for it.”

“But…” Maurice looked to be almost wringing his hands, glancing desperately at Gaston, who stepped in front of Belle again, throwing out his chest and rolling his shoulders to make himself look even bigger than he was.

“She was promised to me!” he shouted, jabbing a thumb at his chest. “She is mine, Dark One! Choose another!”

“You speak of the lady as though she were a possession to be handed around,” drawled Rumplestiltskin. “Isn’t the decision hers, not yours? Perhaps she would find more purpose in becoming a sorcerer’s apprentice than in - well, whatever dull provincial life you have to offer her. The lady as my apprentice, in return for dealing with the ogre threat. That is my final offer.”

“Get out!” said Maurice sharply. “Leave!”

Rumplestiltskin gave a lazy shrug.

“As you wish,” he said, swivelling on his heels and sauntering towards the door.

“No, wait!”

Belle slipped out from behind Gaston, dodging his grasping hand and circling her father. She stepped in front of Rumplestiltskin, who was tapping his fingers together, his eyes gleaming at her and a hint of amusement in the twist of his mouth, as though he was enjoying himself. Belle raised her chin.

“I will go with him,” she said decidedly.

“I forbid it!” shouted Gaston, as Maurice reached for Belle, mouth wide open in horror.

“No one decides my fate but me,” snapped Belle. “I shall go.”

“You’ll do as I tell you!” thundered Gaston, his eyes flashing as he jabbed a finger at the floor between his feet. “I won’t have my wife-to-be carried off by the Dark One to be his slut! Don’t you know how our people will see this? Don’t you care how this makes me look?”

“Your reputation would be in tatters, Belle!” added Maurice wretchedly. “If you go with this creature you will never be part of our society again! You will be shunned, and I too, for letting it happen!”

“Society is overrated,” remarked Rumplestiltskin.

“Out!” shouted Gaston. “Go back to your lair, you twisted creature!”

“Certainly,” said Rumplestiltskin. “If the lady will accompany me.”

“She will not be your whore!”

“Sir Gaston is right,” said Belle loudly.

“See?” Gaston gestured at her. “Belle knows this is madness! Begone, imp! I’ll have the Blue Fairy banish you to the deepest pits of the underworld!”

“Sir Gaston is right,” repeated Belle, frowning at his interruption. “If I go with you as your apprentice, the world will call me your whore. No matter how honourably you treat me.”

“Honourably?” Gaston let out a hollow laugh.

“So I will go with you,” continued Belle. “If you’ll take me as your wife.”

She had seen surprise on Rumplestiltskin’s face before: a hint of a smile when she had said something clever, a flick of his eyebrows at a question she had asked, but she had never seen him shocked. His eyes almost bulged out of his head, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“Have you lost your mind?” thundered Gaston, stomping forward. “You can’t seriously be suggesting that—”

Rumplestiltskin flicked his fingers almost contemptuously, and Gaston was silenced, mouth opening and closing. He also appeared to be frozen in place, his face turning red with rage as he glared at Belle. She decided to take advantage of his silence, and turned her attention to Rumplestiltskin, who was staring at her with that same wide-eyed look of disbelief.

“It seems a fair exchange to me,” she said. “After all, my father was happy to give my hand to Sir Gaston for the sake of land and gold. Surely if the bride-price is an end to death and destruction for all the people in this kingdom, the King could not object.”

“Belle, this is madness!” hissed Maurice.

“No, Papa, it’s good sense,” she retorted. “You said yourself that you wanted a good match for me in terms of wealth and status. I imagine that the Dark One must have an impressive estate.”

“It is - rather large.” Rumplestiltskin appeared to have found his voice again. “But - my Lady, please think this through...”

“I have,” she said simply. “I’ve watched my father and Sir Gaston and the other nobles argue and bicker over strategy and I have counted the cost in potential lives lost if we do not stop the ogre horde. You can stop them, can you not?”

She had stepped up to him, almost close enough to touch, Rumplestiltskin licked his lips, a brief flick of his tongue, as though he was nervous.

“I can,” he said.

“And do you have any objection to taking me as a wife?” she asked. His eyes flicked left and right, as though he was uncertain whether he was really there.

“I - no, no objection,” he said. “But your father speaks the truth. Married or not, you will be shunned by your peers if you choose me. You will have chosen exile, and censure.”

“I will have chosen a man who values me for more than my beauty,” she said clearly. “A man who brought peace to our lands, and saved countless lives. If the nobles of this land shun me for that, I shall count it a worthy sacrifice.”

He was staring at her with something like wonder, his eyes wide, and she watched his fingers twist in the air, a nervous motion. She arched an eyebrow at him.

“Do we have a deal?”

#fic: key to the cell #rumbelle fic #dark castle rumbelle #my fic

55 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

1087

survey by tigerfan1205

Name 5 people that are very important to you. Other than my dad, mom, and Angela, I can’t think of anyone else. Andi’s a very close friend but they’re not necessarily I’d-take-a-bullet-for-them levels yet.

Do you like eating chocolate covered cherries or strawberries? I don’t like fruits, so no. I like chocolate-covered unhealthy stuff though, hahah.

What does your 9th text say in your outbox? Ughhhh I remember this tab being in my old cellphones but I can’t quite remember if this is referring to texts I’ve sent, or my drafts. Anyway, my phone doesn’t store text drafts and I can no longer recall my 9th last sent text.

Ever had a really scary dream? Tell me about it. I’ve had loads of nightmares but my least favorites have always been the ones where someone I love is shot and they had to pass away in my arms. Out of all my scary dreams, those are the ones that send me crying in my sleep/as soon as I wake up.

Where is the coolest place you've been on vacation? Vigan was great because it really felt like visiting a 17th-century town. Singapore and Shanghai were also fun because it felt cool going to places much richer than ours and getting to interact with technologies that we will never get to have here HAHA

Would you rather have salad or french fries for a side dish? Erm, unless the salad has spicy tuna in it, fries all the way please.

Ever been to California? Did you like it? No. Idk, it’s not the first place on my list if I am to visit the US though. Places in the East Coast and the Midwest personally appeal more to me - and I’m fully aware it’s because they’re well-known for being passionate wrestling hubs.

What's your favorite thing about the town you live in? I live right smack on the boundary between the more urban sprawl of Manila and the quieter, more peaceful and quaint mountain part of my city. It’s very easy to access either depending on what I’m in the mood for.

Do you like Mexican food? What's your favorite dish to eat? It’s great, but not my top favorite cuisine. My favorite dishes would have to be fajitas and chimichangas.

Favorite kind of pizza is? Quattro formaggi all the wayyyy. You’ll never see me ordering anything else.

Do you have a boyfriend/girlfriend? If so, how long have you been dating? No.

Any brothers or sisters? Do they make you mad? I have one of each. My sister will sometimes piss me off, but it dies down quick. My brother did something unforgivable to me two years ago so that’s how long I have been constantly mad at him.

Are you nosy? Eh, sometimes? For the most part I know my place though. I let people share the amount they’re willing to, and very rarely do I try to pry.

Ever been to a bar? What was it like? Sure, had my fair share of favorites too when going out was still a normal thing. For me, bars are the best if I’m with the right mix of people. If I’m in a crowd I’m not necessarily close with, it can definitely dampen the experience as I will only be feeling awkward. The people in the bar will sometimes be a factor too – I will most likely feel annoyed if I’m somewhere that’s clearly populated by high schoolers or college freshies as they can get super rambunctious and loud.

Are you old enough to drink? Yes, have been for the last 4 (almost 5) years.

What's your favorite kind of flower? I enjoy looking at peonies.

Would you rather have pasta or chicken? Right now, probs chicken - preferably chicken wings because that sounds the most fucking yummmmmm rn. We’ve been having pasta a bit too much at home so it would’t hurt to skip it for now.

Have you ever dated someone, but made them not tell anyone about it? Yeah. Gabie and I got back together in our final months of high school. We were about to graduate and it was crucial we kept our record clean so that the school won’t strip us of our diploma and prohibit us from marching (it was Catholic school, sooo homophobia and stuff). Because of that, we had to keep it secret for about a month and a half. As soon as I got home from the ceremony and my family dinner, I shared the news on social media. So I didn’t exactly make her keep it secret - it was a mutual understanding.

What's the meanest thing you have done to a friend? I honestly can’t recall a time i deliberately set out to be an ass to someone I considered a friend. The one thing I can recall was accidentally misgendering Andi when I was still getting used to their pronouns, but I didn’t do it on purpose.

Have you ever kissed anybody with the name starting with a C or R? No. Those are my initials though, ha.

Why did you and your last ex break up? She wasn’t ready, she wasn’t down for commitment, and she felt suffocated having only been in a relationship throughout her late teen and early adult years. She really made herself sound like such a victim and she made it sound like commitment is the biggest sin, and so I blamed myself a lot during the first few months of our breakup; but I’ve since made a conscious effort to turn my mindset around and convince myself that I’m not at fault. Bye gaslighters.

Have you ever had a really bad fight with a best friend? Angela and I only had petty fights and our last one was in like 5th grade. Gab and I got into heavy arguments, but only when we were in a relationship and never as friends.

Do you like spaghetti? It’s okay. I like other types of pasta better.

Which color: orange or red? Red.

Do you know any songs by Katy Perry? Do you like her music? She’s...popular lmao, so yeah I know a good number of her songs. She’s in the middle for me; some songs I really enjoy, like E.T., Dark Horse, and Thinking of You (a personal fave); and there are some that didn’t grow on me as much, like Wide Awake and that awful Christmas song she recently released.

Ever had a near death experience? I suppose. My almost-car crash is the event I always cite.

Which number: 5 or 19? 19, for no reason whatsoever.

What's your favorite song by Taylor Swift? Why is that your favorite? Wildest Dreams; it meant a lot to me on a personal level for a time; right now it’s kinda doing it again for me. From her newest album, I really like dorothea also because it’s a bit relevant to my life at the moment.

Pick one: apples or oranges? I guess oranges. I don’t like fruits but I’m more likely to take a liking to orange-flavored stuff, like juice or chewy candies.

Do you know anybody named George or Bob? I don’t think so.

What do you like better, being single or in a relationship? Why is that? I like being in a relationship; commitment comes easy to me and I love looking out for a significant other, supporting them in their dreams, and generally just having someone to focus on, build a future with, and spoil. Being single hasn’t been bad and I guess I won’t mind if I never found someone; but in the grand scheme of things it’s really nice to be able to love someone.

Are you close with your mother? Not really but our relationship isn’t as strained as it used to be.

Have you ever dated someone named Kyle? Nope.

If you still go to school, who sits next to you in your fifth period? I can’t remember the last time I had five classes in a day, lol.

Who was the last person to ring your doorbell/knock on your door? I think it was my mom, earlier this morning when she arrived back home from her daily jog.

Does anything on you itch right now? Yeah actually; the opposite elbow got itchy just now.

If the last person you kissed came to your house now, what would you say? “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

If your ex called you crying, what would it most likely be about? I have no clue, and she would never do that so I literally can’t imagine even a hypothetical reason for this. It has to be a super serious situation, likeeeeeee idk, maybe a death. *knocks on wood aggressively*

Who was the best kisser out of all the people you have kissed? I’ve only kissed one person, so can’t compare.

Name everyone you have texted today. This media guy celebrating his birthday today so I had to ask him for his details so we could send him a gift, as well as the contact person for the cake shop that we got in touch with to order said gift for the birthday celebrant.

Who was the last person you spoke to for over 5 minutes over the telephone? Maybe my grandma when she called a few months ago.

How many times have you went to the bathroom today? Around three times total, I think.

Who do you currently live with? My dad, mom, Nina, my brother, Kimi, and Cooper.

What do you like better: sour or sweet candy? Sweeeeeeet. No sour anything for me, thanks.

Have you ever been told that you have an annoying laugh? No but I hope this isn’t an actual thing people say to other people. They can think others’ laugh is annoying, but I think it’s one of those things that you can just try to get over and is unnecessary to raise lol.

#survey #surveys

2 notes · View notes

mendesstories · 5 years

Text

From the Ground Up

A/N: This idea came to me when I first heard the song ‘From The Ground Up’ by Dan + Shay a few months ago and this has been sitting around in my drafts ever since. I never liked how it kept turning out and I’m still not a 100% proud but here goes nothing. Tell me what you think!!

Taglist: @mendesficsxbombay @particularnervous (if you’d like to be added or removed let me know)

March 2016

“So...it’s time, eh?” He sighs looking at her.

She glumly nods, her eyes roaming everywhere but refusing to meet his. Her mouth opens to say something but her throat runs dry and suddenly words seem hard to find. Truthfully, she’s not sure what to say to the boy she loves when he’s about to leave for what, she prays for his sake, is the first of many of his own world tours.

She steps towards him, takes a deep breath and attempts to gather her resolve for him.

“I’m only nervous because I don’t know how things will work out ahead.”

“But I’ll call ever-”

“No wait let me finish, I want you to know that this-” she gulps and her fingers fidget with the frill of her top, “-this is big and it’s going to change your life. I’m so so proud and happy that you get to do this because, my dude, you deserve to live your dream more than anyone else I know. And, even if all the distance and time changes us, I won’t hate you ever, you’ll always be my best friend first.”

He wants to tell her that her fears are irrational. They are them, they’ll get through it all together but he’s not sure he can actually convince her this time. If he’s being honest he’s terrified she’s going to be right like always, that’ll he’ll get caught up in the glitz and glamour of it all and lose her.

He moves towards her tentatively, hands snaking around her waist and she melts into his embrace. Her head rests on his chest, her shoulders shuddering and for a split second, he blames himself for choosing to do what he loves and hurting the ones he loves in the process.

For a fraction of a millisecond, he has this feeling although nothing might ever be the same in his life again, that somehow the two of them will pull through it. That little glimmer is enough for him. Now, it’s his turn to take a deep breath and garner some strength for her sake.

He whispers softly, “Believe me, baby. We’ll be alright.”

Her dad watches them wearily from the side. He knows Shawn is a bright young boy with big dreams filling up his mind and only the best intentions at heart but he cannot help his fatherly inhibitions from clouding his thoughts.

He wonders how right Shawn is in choosing to make this his career and not going to college. He isn’t sure if they truly understand how the dynamic of their relationship is about to alter, both of them ambitious but heading down starkly different paths. He worries the scrutiny and attention that is bound to come, will wear out even his strong-willed little girl.

August 2019

Post-concert Shawn is always on an adrenaline high. Tonight, however, was truly special. He’s played the biggest show of his life. A sold-out stadium in his home city. The same place he would pass by numerous times as a child with his gaze fixated and eyes wide unable to wrap his mind around big it is.

Certainly, he never imagined that one-day a deafening crowd would sing the words he wrote in his journals back to him when his slacked jaw and welled up eyes leave it hard for him to swallow and finish the words.

She’s out there in the deafening crowd with her hair flying in every which direction with his sister singing along to every song just like everyone else in the audience. His biggest (and possibly favourite) supporter since day one.

He gets off stage a jittery mess with his heart still pounding fast against his chest and the whole room is electrified with his entrance. He hands his guitar to Cez and is pulled in for a hug.

There are bottles clinking, friends and family making rounds hugging him and each other. There’s enough energy in the room to spark up the CN tower standing tall behind them.

The past five years of his life and career have gone by in the blink of an eye. She was right when she predicted everything would change but the one thing that’s stayed constant is that he wouldn’t want to do any of this without her by his side, be it having to clean up the beer bottles and leftover pizza after Brian’s roaring 21st or playing a twice as roaring Rogers Stadium.

So, smile a mile wide and hands still clammy he makes his way towards her. He picks her up giving her a quick twirl and she lets out a little laugh. It’s enough to ignite his burning heart further.

He puts her down and she pulls him in closer for the tightest and warmest hug ever. Her blanket of love, happiness and pride envelops him.

He did it

Something lights up in her holding him so close in her arms. A glimmer, like the one he had in the airport all those years ago, tells her as long as they are hand in hand giving life their all, they’ll have many more moments like this one.

September 2019

He’s seated in the crowded auditorium between her parents and little brother, adjusting his dress shirt and formal slacks waiting for the graduation to start.

He recalls that one late night during the Europe leg of the tour when he woke up to fetch some water and realised she wasn’t in his arms. He found her with her shoulders bent over her textbooks and laptop, reading and rereading the words attempting to make sense of the page. She rubbed her eyes and willed herself to stay awake.

5 more minutes she convinced herself every five minutes

His heart plummeted looking at her haggard appearance knowing he was partly responsible for it. He never asked her, he never had to, she magically always knew. She could tell sense his anxiety building up. The initial buzz of being on tour fading away. He wanted to come home, tease his sister and press kisses to his mother’s cheek.

She would give him the world if he so asked and if there was anything she could do to keep his heart even slightly happier, she would. So without much hesitation, she makes a few adjustments in her budget for the rest of the month and flies out to him.

The glint in his bright eyes and his warm laugh reverberating through her eardrums when she surprised him made it all worth it.

Standing in the dim light of the tour bus it occurred to him how selfish and unfair he was to be so caught up buzzing around in excitement of her arrival to see how all that she does for him takes a toll on her as well.

He knows she’s going to compensate for this trip by working a few extra and long shifts around her classes. Her classes are a whole other story. They are far from easy and he has come to understand computer science is an incredibly time consuming and draining major despite her being passionate about the subject.

Recording albums, selling out stadiums, and writing heart-wrenching, gut-twisting songs was never her dream but she believed in his nevertheless. While chasing her own dream, she’s continued to support his.

Decidedly he wipes the sleep away from his tired eyes. He makes up his mind that he’s going to help her study even if that meant simply keeping her company.

“What? Why are you awake?” She asks him breaking out of her trance as he settles into the space beside her.

“Here, please take care of yourself, honey.” He mumbled into the dark placing a cold glass of water and some fruit in front of her.

Andrew may have found them the next morning all cuddled up, soft snores leaving their exhausted bodies, but they had successfully finished her linear algebra 1 work.

His face breaks into the biggest grin when they announce her name. Hands clapping as loudly as possible while she walks up on stage beaming with pride and standing tall in all her 5 feet 5 glory. Her dad even whistles a few times. He can only imagine how proud her parents are of their daughter.

She did it

His chest constricts with a bubbling feeling and he isn’t quite sure what it is. Perhaps it’s pride but something tells him it’s just the all-consuming love he has for her and all of her.

4 years later

The second she is pushed out the room is engulfed in an overwhelming torrent of emotion.

She’s beautiful

It’s his first thought. Certainly, she’s covered in baby gunk but she’s still beautiful.

The silence in the room for the first few seconds seemed piercing. Is she alright? She’s supposed to cry, right? Why isn’t she crying? Then it’s replaced by her faint little cry which grows louder and louder until it has turned into an all-out no holds scream. She’s loud but he doesn’t mind in the slightest. She’s safe. His wife is safe. His own family is here safe and sound.

“We have to clean her up first.” The nurse declares gently picking her up from her mother’s chest where they placed her for barely a minute.

He doesn’t want to let her out of his sight. So, he drops his head and presses a kiss to his wife’s forehead, whispers an ‘I love you’ and speeds off after the nurse.

Not so much to one’s surprise she cries and shrieks as they take a prick of her blood and check her vitals. It takes everything in him to not pick her up and coo into her little ears that he’s right here and as long as he’s round he won’t let anything bad happen to her.

“Hi angel, I love you.” He bends down and mumbles as the nurse runs a washcloth across her tummy.

He never imagined those five words would alter his life and perspective forever. Her cries seem to subside and he knows that newborns have little to no muscle power and she can’t really see but he swears she looks at him and calms down.

4 years later

Estela Mendes is nearly four now. She has more fun each day than should be legally allowed. She struggles with sharing toys and her parents’ undivided attention with her toddler brother (her parents promise you they are working on this), while her curiosity about the baby in her mama’s belly grows each day.

4 years and 7 months later

Gotta support the neck Gotta support the neck

The thought has been drilled into his head by his parents over the past few months. While his fans may have said countless things about his large hands, some of their words managing to leave him haunted, he never really noticed how large his hands actually were until now. She seems so little and fragile in his arms compared to the first two now notorious Mendes siblings.

It’s safe to say the youngest Mendes daughter wasn’t planned yet somehow she came at the perfect time.

The two of them had spent a fair number of nights with goosebumps rising on their skin in the Toronto breeze, after putting their kids to bed, (god, how do they sound so old?) huddled shoulder to shoulder as she indulged in her choice of cravings for the night (it was a jar of pickles more often than not) dreaming of what the baby girl growing inside would be like.

Now, she’s here and he’s enamored with her very existence. He can’t keep his eyes off her. If it was all up to him he’d sit there for hours on an end memorizing every little detail of her being and watch her attempt to clasp her small figures around his large ones.

His wife rests her head on his shoulders, exhaustion rimming her eyelids with her matted hair against her forehead. She moves her hand that is free of the IV needles and tubes to bring the two older children, smitten with the latest addition to the family, closer into her lap.

Everything he’s ever wanted - needed really - is right here in his arms. He feels complete.

7 years later

The youngest Mendes child is clutched to her waist, hands moving animatedly describing plans she has with her siblings for the rest of the day, as the pair of them make their way out to the rest of the family in their backyard.

His wife’s heart grows in size finding both sets of grandparents recollecting stories while Shawn teaches his two older children how to strum a certain chord on his guitar.

The mess of curls - that is her son - seated on Shawn’s lap has a glint of mischief lacing his eyes trying to think of ways to add his touch of fun to the relatively calm backyard.

She puts her daughter down who wobbles across the grass to where her dad and siblings are seated.

Now, all four of them are playing some game. He somehow manages to lift all three of them into the air, makes the sound of a bear growling, places them back onto the grass gently and tickles them until they’re all in fits of laughter.

The delirious belly laughs they let out at his antics have him grinning ear to ear. The simplicity of the moment overwhelms him. This is all he could ever dream of having and more. A family of his own, people that are his own and people with whom he can cherish the wild rollercoaster of moments his life has been and continues to be.

All those inhibitions her dad had at the airport years ago no longer hold true. He’s watched Shawn grow into being the incredible partner and father that he is today.

He’s the man her dad hoped he would be.

65 years later

The morning sun streaming in uninvited kisses them awake. He opens his eyes to the slivers of light peeping in through the gaps in the blinds casting thin stripes across her tan and angelic skin.

She blinks multiple times adjusting to the sudden light drowsily, mouth curving into a lopsided grin as he pulls her closer into his embrace.

65 years old now, in this little house that they made home when they stepped foot into young, first child on the way, eyes dancing with excitement for the future.

The pictures that adorn every nook and corner of this warm and humble abode are a testament to their tale. The clouds may have rolled and the earth may have shook but they sheltered each other through the wind and the rain.

They did it

#shawn mendes #shawn x oc #shawn mendes fic #blurb #shawn #shawn x reader #mendes #writing #shawn mendes fanfic #fluff #fics #shawn mendes fics #fanfic

48 notes · View notes