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therenlover · 4 years ago

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Orestes Fasting and Pylades Drunk (A Young Revolutionary!Zemo x Non-Binary Reader Oneshot)

(a/n: so, in honor of barricade day, have this young revolutionary!Zemo fic, which is basically just canon Enjoltaire dynamics but with a Zemo/reader twist on it, because that dynamic is literally my whole heart. Consider this a weird twisted Les Mis au if you want to, but you don’t need to know the book or musical to enjoy this, if it can be enjoyed...)

Synopsis: Helmut recalls the story of how he came to be the ruthless man he is and, more specifically, how he came into possession of his strange purple mask.

Tags: Canon Compliant, Angst, Young!Zemo, Non-Binary!Reader, Death, Enemies to Friends With Benefits to Lovers????, Implied Sexual Content, Friendship, Pining, Revolution, Speedrunning A Slow Burn

Rating: M (+16)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, Gun Violence, Drinking, Minor Homophobia/Transphobia (it’s one sentence near the end and it’s very vague coming from Heinrich), Swearing, Survivor’s Guilt, Really Just Death Everywhere

Word Count: 10,200~

“What’s with the mask?”

The question was innocent enough.

Sam posed it while lounging on the expensive couch of Zemo’s Riga apartment, head tilted back and eyes closed in silent contemplation.

Bucky remained silent as Zemo glanced over from his place at the counter. Outside, the sun was long gone, giving way to a stunning moonrise over the city that poured through the stained glass windows and lit up the night with its glow. It was quiet, much quieter than things usually were between the trio. Still, things being quiet didn’t mean they weren’t tense.

Clenching his teeth, he took in a long breath through his nose. “I am unsure what you mean by that, Sam,”

“The mask,” Sam pushed, “you know, the one you wore during the fight in Madripoor. What’s the deal with that?”

“Ah yes. That mask,” As if on cue, Zemo took a long swig from his glass. It burned all the way down. He didn’t speak again, though, instead choosing to let his gaze fall on the elaborate tilework above his countertops, tracing the patterns with his eyes. Anything to divert himself from the thoughts that rushed back into his mind at the thought of the knit piece of cloth that sat firmly in his inner coat pocket.

Unfortunately for him, Sam wasn’t satisfied with letting the topic fizzle out. “Come on man,” he griped, rubbing a hand over his face, “we got you out of prison, so you owe us one. In fact, you owe us a lot. So, spill. What the hell is the deal with it? Were you Sokovian batman or something?”

That urged a dry laugh from the baron’s lips as he set his crystal glass on the counter with a little more force than was necessary. “Are you always so interested in your captives’ personal lives?”

“Usually,” Bucky chimed in dryly.

“I suppose I’m outnumbered,” Zemo sighed. The bile rising in his throat was easy enough to force down as he turned himself out on his stool to face the room. It wasn’t the right time for true weakness, not yet, but he couldn’t deny that painting himself in a desirable light and offering the pair honesty might give him the upper hand. So, he folded.

Slowly he retrieved the purple mask from his coat and turned it over in his hands. It still fit after all the years it had sat gathering dust in his storage unit which was a blessing in its own right. It still served its original purpose too. That mask had seen horrors beyond imagination, had been washed clean of blood more times than could be counted. Did it hold the memories of the things it had seen within its fabrics as Zemo did in his mind? Or was it as naive as he had been at the time of its creation? He let out a bitter laugh. That was a question they would have asked him.

As he exchanged his literal mask for one entirely emotional, Zemo leaned back on his stool and managed a smile. “How educated are you on Sokovian politics?”

Sam shut his eyes again, letting his head lol back once more. “I went to public school, so I don’t think I even knew Sokovia existed until it didn’t,”

“I know enough,” Bucky added. From his place leaning against the way, ever vigilant and ready to jump into an imagined battle, he turned to face Zemo and crossed his arms. “Hydra had fingers in the government there, more so than other places. There was a big power struggle in the ’90s when the king died, right? Because people wanted democracy, and they didn’t want the little shithead prince to take over,”

“Yes,” Zemo nodded, “My cousin Emil. I’m glad you’re familiar,”

A spluttered laugh escaped Sam’s lips as he shot up. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised by this stuff anymore, but damn,”

“He and I weren’t close,” Zemo waved his hand dismissively, and yet there was a strange sadness in his eyes. It wasn’t for his cousin, though. Not in the least. “But James was correct, there were riots in the streets when the king died. They were shut down quickly by the National Guard, though, who had more than a little help from Hydra’s favorite supersoldiers once they realized just how much power the citizens held. What street were you assigned to, James?”

Bucky sucked in his cheeks, eyes falling to the floor, but before Sam could butt in and defend him he had muttered an answer. “I cleared the barricade at 18th Avenue, the second largest. Those kids fought valiantly,”

Zemo hummed lowly. “And so they did,”

“Okay, what does any of this have to do with your stupid purple mask?” Sam exclaimed.

He was sitting up fully now, face turned to where Zemo had stood from his stool and begun to round the bar. His mask still sat in a small ball on the marble. It seemed to be a member of the conversation all its own, silent and sure, drawing all three men together as it weaved a story from the past into the present with its very presence.

“That mask served me well and hid my identity when I stood against the very men that were serving my family,” Zemo muttered, letting his fingers brush the fabric gently. The names of the lost sat heavy on his very soul even if they would never pass from his lips.

Hans, Andrei, Ivan, Vladimir, Anton, Lazlo, Nicholas, little Sebastian…

Y/N.

“I was young then, too young for my own good,” he said softly, “naive and hopeful and convinced that the world was able to change for the better if I simply willed it to be… so when I discovered the connection between my family and Hydra I packed up my things, emptied my bank account, and moved into a tiny apartment with another like-minded friend, Hans Perlitch,” a soft laugh escaped him, genuine and youthful and all too honest, “We preached to the hungry masses of a world free from the thumb of the elite and all the while we would return home to a heated apartment and a stocked pantry. Still, we were well-liked and gathered a bit of a following. That was when everything changed, the early fall of 1997…”

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

“You know, for someone who claims to be as smart as you say you are, you’re quite a fool,”

The voice came from the back of the room, smoke still hanging thick in the air from the cigarettes shared by the masses of students that had packed the tiny repurposed stockroom of the bar while Helmut had given his speech for the week.

He didn’t give the interloper the dignity of his full attention as he gathered a few of his scattered notes from the table that served as his soapbox. Still, he was in a generally good mood. Almost double the usual students had shown up for the meeting and a few had even chimed in to ask questions, so he took a deep breath and resigned himself to the fact that rooting out one ignorant opposer now would mean less work in the long run. “I’ve never claimed to be smart, so I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to,”

A scoff came from the back of the room, but the person made no effort to come closer. “You can change your last name and present yourself as a member of the public all you want, but someday someone is gonna recognize that pretty face of yours, and your whole revolution is going to come crumbling to the ground,”

Now that was enough to make him pause.

“How did you-”

“How could I not?”

It was sardonic, biting and harsh in the worst of ways. Everything about the tone made Helmut’s blood boil beneath his skin. He was not one who enjoyed being threatened or outdone. Still, the play was out of his hands now, should this strange intruder choose to ruin him.

Biting his tongue, he finally turned to face them. “You have my attention, now what do you want?”

Across the room, the stranger remained unphased. They were relatively unremarkable, a bottle of cheap beer held firmly in their grip as they toasted to nothing and drank down the remaining dregs. With a smile and a chuckle, they propped their feet up on the small, round table before them. Something about that sight lit a fire in Helmut’s chest. He didn’t know who they were, or why he was there, but he was certain that he despised them already.

“I don’t want anything,” They replied, and with a certain grandness reserved for a gamin mocking the bourgeoisie, they flourished with their hands, letting their booted feet drop to the ground as they stood and bowed. “I’m just saying that if you’re trying to convince people that you’re not the missing baron while you’re pretending to be all impoverished and rallying us commoners, you might want to change more than your last name and your fashion sense,”

Helmut gritted his teeth. “So what? Did you come here just to rub my face in it, or are you going to help me make a change?”

That elicited a small snort from the stranger, but they did take the opportunity to traipse up to meet him at his table, leaning on the edge as they gazed up at him with a strange look in their eyes that he couldn’t quite identify. Their face was soft upon closer examination, alive and bright with a merriment that only came from intoxication. It made Helmut sneer involuntarily.

Licking their lips, they murmured, “Make a change? Is that what you think you’re doing?” and as they let a giggle escape their parted lips Helmut lost it.

He gasped them firmly by the front of their baggy sweater and dragged them in close. “At least I’m trying! What are you doing about it? Extorting the only person who might be able to actually make a change in this shithole of a country? That’s so much more helpful!”

Their faces were inches apart as Helmut spat his words like venom and yet the stranger never stopped smiling. It was almost dopey, the grin that made its way across their lips. Helmut couldn’t stand it.

“You know, baron,” they purred, setting down their empty bottle on the table beside them, “I like you. I might just stick around here for a little while, see what else about your little plan I can pick apart,”

Never in his life had Helmut been less thrilled for someone to join his cause.

“Why are you here anyway,” he groaned, releasing their shirt, “don’t you have something better to do with your Friday night than bother me?” and, as an extra jab, he added, “besides drinking yourself to death, of course,”

The jab didn’t land, though.

Taking it all in stride, the stranger simply grinned as if they too knew how badly they stank of cheap alcohol and was thrilled that someone had noticed. “Anton invited me. He said I should get out more, make some friends. It’s just a coincidence that I happened to recognize you while writing down an itemized list of all the things you got wrong while you grandstanded,” There was a pride in their words, a giddy energy burbling just beneath the surface of their skin, and suddenly it all made sense.

Anton was newer to their group, a poet and a free thinker, something hard to find in the slums of Novi Grad. Still, he lightened the impromptu meetings up with his smile and would often spend the hour scrawling away fervently in his notebook as he immortalized each and every word that was said “for posterity”. Helmut was sure that only someone as accepting as Anton would ever choose to spend their time with someone quite as insufferable as the person before him. Suddenly, and uncomfortably, he became aware that he didn’t even know their name.

Swallowing down a nasty barb, Helmut sighed and offered up his hand, which the stranger took after a moment of pause. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” They replied.

“Well, Y/N,” he spat their name from his mouth like a cherry pit, “I suppose I’ll have to get used to having a man like you-”

“Don’t call me that,”

Helmut cocked his head to the side. “Pardon?”

“Don’t call me a man,” Y/N replied, “and before you ask I don’t want to be called a woman either. I’m just… I’m just Y/N, at least for now I am, it’s not like I’d give a rich brat like you my legal name while we’re mixed up in all this illegal, halfway-treasonous nonsense you insist on spouting. Maybe next week I’ll be something completely different and new. Until I tell you otherwise, though, I’m just Y/N, your highness,”

“Do I dare dream that that means you might learn to respect my ideas?” Helmut sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face and choosing to ignore the sarcastic address in the hopes of letting such things fizzle and die without encouragement. Unfortunately, the goofy grin he got in return told him that was wishful thinking.

Suddenly, the door opened and Helmut jumped away from his newest tentative ally (if you could call them that) to find Hans standing in the doorway. At his side was Andrei, the third in command of their little posse and final member of the leading triumvirate. They seemed shocked at his lateness and he was quick to try to gather himself up lest they see him as undone as he had found himself while facing the smallest taste of Y/N’s antagonistic nature.

What had he even been doing when they interrupted him? It took him a moment to even gather himself together enough to remember. Scanning the room, his eyes fell on the papers

Oh yes, he had been gathering up his notes…

He was quick to finish the task as Y/N sauntered away towards the door, preparing to push past the two men who stood beyond it.

“You’re Anton’s friend, right?” Hans asked, back stiff. When Y/N nodded he did little more than give a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat. He had always been good with making things impersonal as he crunched the numbers and calculated probabilities. That was why Helmut liked him so much.

Andrei, on the other hand, provided a needed warmth to their leadership in his outreach.

He smiled warmly at Y/N and clapped a hand on their shoulder. “I hope we’ll be seeing more of you around,”

Y/N was quick to offer one of their signature grins before winking back at Helmut in a way that made his stomach turn. “Oh, you’ll be seeing plenty of me from now on,”

“We’re glad to have you,” Andrei replied as they passed.

Before they fully left, though, they turned one last time to shoot Helmut a final smile. “Till next Friday, fearless leader,”

Then, Y/N was gone, lost in the crowd of revelers beyond the small, smokey storeroom and, more importantly, beyond where Helmut’s eyes could follow. Somehow, despite everything, he missed having them there. He quickly chalked the feeling up to wanting to keep a close eye on people with the ability to thwart his best-laid plans and left it at that. Besides, he had no room in his heart for anything besides the betterment of Sokovia.

Attachments meant the possibility of other priorities, and other priorities got people killed. He couldn’t have that happening on his watch.

Thankfully, Hans snapped him out of his melancholy quickly. “Do you have everything sorted?”

Helmut gave a short nod before tapping the pile of papers against the table and setting out towards the door, abandoning his thoughts and feelings about his interaction with Y/N at the table as he exited the room and gathered himself once more into the man his friends needed him to be.

He could only hope that as long as he ignored Y/N’s jabs, they would soon grow tired and be gone within the month once they realized he was anything but afraid of their little games.

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

Much to Helmut’s abject disappointment, Y/N did not, in fact, stop showing up.

They did quite the opposite.

Instead of leaving him well enough alone, they showed up to Helmut’s meetings every single Wednesday and Friday for months, always piss drunk and happy to jeer at him from the corner, shouting their unwanted opinions and throwing off every meeting with their nonsense.

It was as if they did it just to get on his nerves, and get on his nerves they did.

As the seasons changed, from spring, to winter, to fall, and, finally, to the very beginnings of summer, so did the types of jabs Y/N decided to throw.

In the beginning it was all business, comments on the idiocy of his plans for a protest based on common police routes or mocking jokes about his unending optimism when it came to fighting the national guard on a large scale, but as things began to get more and more serious on the path towards a full-fledged revolt, they seemed to aim more and more of their vitriol towards Helmut personally.

Sometimes it was a comment on his face or voice. “Ease up pretty boy,” they’d jeer, “keep talking like that and a guardsman might just do more than knock out a few of your perfect teeth,” Other times, which Helmut found infinitely worse, they’d throw a jab at his ability to lead them to victory. “The only thing that waits for us at the end of this is a painful death, especially if you’re not joking about those fucking super soldiers they supposedly have on ice,”

The worst part was that half the time, Y/N was right.

Helmut hated to admit it but it was true. More than once he had to go back and edit his plans to take into account a valid point thrown in by Y/N that he had never even considered. Hell, if it had been anyone else picking him to nothing he would have been grateful, but it wasn’t a well-meaning contributor trying to make the world a better place, it was a drunk who seemed to have one solitary life goal: making his life as miserable as possible. Perhaps that’s why they had devolved to frantic angry fucks behind crates of wine and massive cans of chocolate spread after the worst of their arguments…

Not that Helmut cared for them.

No, he didn’t do attachments. Neither did Y/N. They hated each other, after all.

It was just a way to release their tensions at the end of stressful meetings and nothing more. They were dealing with matters of life and death after all. It was only normal to seek comfort in the warmth of a companion, if he could even call Y/N a companion.

Whether he liked it or not, though, they were they to stay, even if they rarely made themself useful to the cause.

By early June, the drunkard had become close friends with all of the remaining students that still gathered at Helmut’s location for meetings instead of ending up at the offshoots that began to form once the group got too big to pile into the storeroom. Helmut loathed thinking about it, but Y/N was probably invited to more birthdays and Saturday night get-togethers than he ever was. There was something about their smile that drew people in. It made them feel wanted, welcome. Helmut hated that he never got those smiles from Y/N, only ever the mocking, blithe kind that they handed out freely to friends and enemies alike.

He didn’t have time to think about that, though. Not with so much fast approaching as the first pears began to hang from branches down in the royal orchards, soft and ripe and ready to be harvested. Their growth marked King Hugo’s daily weakening. His death could come any day, and when it did, Helmut knew he would need to strike quickly if he truly hoped to overturn the system before the coronation of his cousin. That meant every meeting, now more frequently held throughout the week, was filled to the brim with preparations and planning.

Well, preparations and planning and a healthy dose of Y/N and Helmut yelling at each other about nonsense across the room until Anton or Laszlo stepped in to pull Y/N down into their chair once more so the meeting could resume and they could all go home before things got too late and they were questioned in the street on why they were possibly out and about at such an hour.

Things were no different on that Friday meeting on June 4th.

“Is there anyone here who isn’t already passing out pamphlets in the dorms at NVU tonight?” Helmut asked the room, scanning for a hand that didn’t belong to his least favorite member of the group. Unfortunately, none came up. “Come one now, at least one of you has to be free,”

Y/N groaned. “It’s like you don’t even see my hand waving up here, oh great one,” There they went again with the ridiculous terms of address that made Helmut’s blood sizzle in his veins. He remained composed, though. At least, as composed as he could be given the situation.

“I’m ignoring you because I remember the last time I asked your drunk ass to pass out pamphlets. What round of dominos were you on by the time I showed up to check on you, five or six?”

The scalding remark was enough to get Y/N to sheepishly lower their hand, eyes downcast. It was getting easier and easier for Helmut to manage to shut them up the more frantic meetings got, and he couldn’t say he was displeased by that fact no matter why it was the way that it was. A quiet Y/N meant less chance for mistakes which meant fewer future casualties. Fewer casualties were good, it was what he strived for.

Thankfully for Helmut, a new hand came up.

It belonged to Vladimir, the oldest of the group by a year rounding out at an even 26 years old. He was dependable, definitely the kind who could be trusted to run an errand as important as the one Helmut needed to have done. The thought that Vladimir would be the one to pick up the shipment of smuggled guns was a relief. He made as much evident while explaining their next moves.

Throughout the remainder of the meeting, though, Helmut couldn’t help but feel watched. It didn’t last long, half an hour at most. Still, there was the creeping itch on the back of his neck that told him there were eyes on him that he wasn’t aware of. Only when the group was dismissed and the feeling didn’t go away did he realize exactly who was staring at him so intently.

“I hope you know I really did intend to hand out those pamphlets,” Y/N said once they were the last one remaining, the rest of the group having trickled out to get food and drinks before heading home for the night. It wasn’t unusual for Helmut and Y/N to be the last two remaining at the end of a meeting. That didn’t mean he was happy about it though.

So, instead of offering up an acknowledgment, he busied himself with plotting out a few potential spots to barricade the roads and hunker down when things got messy in highlighter on the large, laminated map of Novi Grad that had found its home on the big front table.

Y/N didn’t let up, though. They never did. “I know you don’t believe me, why would you, but I did. I just wanted to loosen them up before I started talking about overthrowing the damn government, which is a terrible plan, by the way. Have I told you that lately?”

“Only every time you see me,” Helmut sighed.

Somehow, that made Y/N smile, soft and sarcastic and all too honest. Helmut didn’t know how they managed it. Secretly, he envied their neverending veracity. He’d never say that though. No, not while they crossed the floor and offered up a large bottle of whiskey.

“A drink, dear leader?”

“Absolutely not” He griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I need to remind you I don’t drink?”

“Too many,”

“For once, I agree with you,”

A laugh passed through Y/N’s plush lips and, regrettably, Helmut couldn’t help but look up at them and relish in the sight. Their hair was a bit longer than they usually grew it out, a particularly unruly piece tucked behind their ear. Helmut hated that he noticed little details like that, despised the way he had come to know the soft dip of their cupid’s bow and the warmth of their palm. It was still Y/N, after all, for better or worse. He couldn’t help but allow himself those small recognitions though. It made him feel human, or something close to it.

Still, all good things must come to an end, and they did when Y/N decided to speak again. “You know, the longer I show up for these stupid meetings, the more I think you’re actually gonna try to go up against those bastards,”

Helmut should have known the barb was coming, but perhaps his better nature, if it truly existed, prevented that. Nevertheless, he sighed into his hands as he dropped his highlighter. “If I didn’t intend to actually try to change things, why would I have spent the last year of my life living in a shitty apartment and putting up with you?”

“You’d be surprised the things people do and never finish. Not everyone is as driven as you are,” Y/N huffed. They were quick to seat themself on the table once Helmut wasn’t actively working over it, smearing the highlighter away on their corduroy pants. “Nobody would blame you if you did tap out, you know. There are plenty of ways to make a change that don’t involve trying to take down the entire local Sokovian military force until they decide to give you what you want,”

“The changes we could make without a revolt wouldn’t really be changes, they’d just be the illusion of changes. You know that as well as I do,” Helmut replied with a groan.

Two of the fingers from Y/N’s free hand, the one that wasn’t gripping their bottle like a lifeline, pointed towards the closed door behind them. “Is living under our current system and knowing they have fingers in a few less-than-savory organizations really worse than leading all of your friends to their deaths?”

That struck a nerve in Helmut’s chest.

“And who says that has to be true?”

“Come on, oh benevolent and giving baron,” Y/N’s voice was light yet pointed, like a million minuscule particles of glass flying through the air, “Do you really think we’re all gonna make it out of a fight with the big guys? And even if all of us do, can you say the same for the poor kids fighting where we aren’t?”

“I never said there would be no casualties-”

“What about Sebastian? The kid is barely 12 and I know you’re going to say that if he tries to show up, you’re gonna send him home, but I think you underestimate how many people will want even someone as young as him dead if they catch him in the street. Are you really going to let him risk his life for this? A half-assed plan for you to get revenge on your asshole relatives for making your childhood shitty?”

“You know that’s not what this is about,”

“Do I?” Y/N asked, and for just a second, no, a millisecond, Helmut wasn’t sure anymore. It was only a brief moment though, nothing more. The fact that they could make him doubt himself do deeply though… it was a problem. Calling it that was an understatement, but there was no other way to put it that truly worked.

Helmut growled lowly and nodded, pushing the doubt from his mind. He was right. He had to be right. What would he be if he was wrong? A spoiled rich boy who was leading his friends to their dooms for nothing?

No.

He had to be right, so he was. It was as simple as that.

“Is there anything else you need to critique, or can you leave me to work now?” Helmut asked. His patience had long since worn thin. That didn’t matter much to Y/N, though. They liked to wear him down thin, see just how far they could push without breaking his resolve. It was a game they were both intimately acquainted with.

They played their hand expertly. “In fact,” Y/N smiled while they spoke, another mocking little grin that made Helmut’s stomach turn in the best and worst of ways, “there is one last thing I needed to ask about,”

“I shudder to think what it might be,”

“How are you going to hide your face?”

The question caught Helmut off-guard as he leaned back on his heels, letting his forearms brace against the edge of the table, his face scrunching up in thought. “What?”

Y/N gestured absently towards his face before bringing their bottle to their lips. “I’m betting that your family will expect you to be out there whenever we actually stage our attack. If I’m right, that means the soldiers will be looking for you as their top priority, and if they find you, they’ll kill everybody around you just to get a chance to drag you back to mommy and daddy. Even if they don’t kill us on sight we’ll be charged for harboring you without turning you in to the proper authorities. So, how are you going to hide your face?”

Once again, Helmut found himself thinking that, despite their drunken stupor, Y/N might just be right, and he hated it. He hated that he hadn’t thought of it first, hated that it was a valid point, hated that he had no satisfying way to answer the question they had posed. He hated it all.

“I’ll just throw on a bandana,” He managed to grumble, and that was that.

Or, that should have been that, but Y/N scoffed at the idea, setting down their bottle and leaning in close to Helmut’s face. After a moment of contemplation, they brought their hand up to his face and let their thumb come to rest on one of his largest beauty marks, the mole that rested high on the left side of his nose. “I’m afraid that a bandana isn’t going to cover up your absolutely blinding radiance, fearless leader,” There was a softness to their voice, a gentility Helmut was unused to. It made his chest hurt. He hated that too.

“Are you going to offer a solution or are you just going to sit there telling me I’m stupid,” His words were a low groan.

Much to his surprise, though, Y/N reached into their back pocket only to pass him a crumpled purple ball. It was obviously fabric, though the outside seemed to be coated in some sort of weatherproofing, and upon closer inspection, once unraveled, two distinct eyeholes became visible.

“Is this-”

“A mask?” Y/N finished his sentence for him, “Yeah. I figured you wouldn’t think about it, so I whipped something up with some old polyester-based yarn and then I coated it so it wouldn’t be a problem if it got wet. It should still be breathable, though,”

For the first time since he’d known them, Helmut looked up at Y/N and thought that they were incredibly valuable. He still hated them, of course he did. Y/N was Y/N and he was himself and they hated each other because they were, at their basest, entirely incompatible.

At his silence, Y/N looked away, almost nervous. “I hope it’s alright,”

“It’s more than alright,” Helmut said as kindly as he could possibly manage, “I hate to say this, but owe you one,”

“Could I collect on that debt now?” Minutely, Y/N leaned closer, eyes falling to Helmut’s lips.

He swallowed thickly. “You’re drunk, Y/N,”

“I know I am. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Why would that be wonderful?”

“Because that means I won’t remember this,” And, with that, they closed the gap between the two of them and captured Helmut’s lips in his own.

Kissing Y/N wasn’t a new thing. They had kissed plenty of times during their frenzied hookups; soft kisses and hard kisses and long kisses and short kisses. Still, Helmut would never get used to the thrill of it. That was yet another thing he hated about Y/N. He could never quite get used to them. Every single interaction always felt as fresh and raw as their first.

With a fervor only he could muster, Helmut kissed back and pushed at Y/N’s hips, pressing them harder into the table below, and just as quickly as he had gained a physical mask, he had lost his emotional one.

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

In the end, that was the last time Helmut had slept with Y/N.

They had fallen together, two sweaty half-dressed bodies laid out over the laminated map of Novi Grad, and then Y/N had gathered themself up and left with little more than one last kiss pressed to Helmut’s temple. By the time he himself had gotten home to Hans, the news of King Hugo’s death was almost an hour old.

After a few phone calls to lay the final plans and keep every sect of their band of revolutionaries on the same schedules, things rolled into motion like a finely tuned machine.

On the morning of June 5th, the barricades rose and Helmut wore his mask proudly as his people fought for freedom in the streets he had walked since childhood. Y/N was beside him.

By the early hours of June 6th, they were the only barricade that remained.

Helmut should have known that once things got too challenging that the super soldiers would be released, he should have anticipated that they’d be waiting for the backlash once king Hugo passed, and yet he hadn’t. He had blindly walked into the disaster with his eyes wide open. There was no one to blame but himself.

Little Sebastian, just one month shy of 13 years old, was dead, shot at long distance when he had attempted to grab a fallen box of bullets that had toppled over the peak of the jumble of hoarded furniture and scrap metal. Anton was dead too, taken at gunpoint while he stood guard at a side street and executed with his eyes bound and a sonnet on his lips. Even Ivan, stoic and strong Ivan who bound his knuckles in boxer’s tape and sparred with Helmut when he needed to clear his head, had been caught in the initial fire and bled out over the course of the day, dying with a smile on his face as he leaned on a discarded chair.

I never said there’d be no casualties.

His own words rang in his ears, taunted him with every bullet he shot and every breath he dragged into his aching lungs. How had he ever been so naive to believe that even one life could be expendable?

The real lowest point came at almost midnight when Helmut picked up a call from a student on another barricade only to met with screaming. “Winter is coming!” They had wailed, “Winter is coming!” and then they had died, right there over speakerphone. Helmut had the good sense to hang up once it got to the worst of it, the strangled gurgled growing to be too much for the group.

As things truly settled, in those hours so early that the world still considered them night, Helmut still stood vigilant. That’s when Y/N finally approached.

They wore no smile, not like usual. Instead, their face was stoic as they came to stand beside Helmut and waited silently for a moment. He took the chance to beat them to the punch.

“You don’t have to tell me you were right. I know you were,” I hate you for it.

Y/N offered a gentle, humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t rub it in at a time like this, but yeah, I was,” I know you do. I hate myself for it too.

Slowly, Helmut brought a hand to his face, scrubbing the exhaustion away from his eyes. How had it all come to this?

“How much time do you think we have,” Y/N was speaking before he had a chance to say anything more, saving him from having to elaborate on his admission. He was grateful. Grateful to not be alone, grateful to be spared more shame, grateful to see Y/N’s gentle smile one more time. He’d never show it though. No, he was to be the fearless leader till the end.

So, he sucked in a deep breath and stared out into the starry sky. “A few hours at most. I’m surprised they haven’t made another advance after the last big push in the evening when we lost…” he swallowed thickly, “when we lost Anton,”

Licking their lips and pushing back their hair, Y/N sighed. “For what it’s worth, for a minute there I really believed you could do it,”

It was a bigger compliment than it seemed and they both knew it, but neither acknowledged it. Instead, Helmut gestured absently towards the half-full bottle of wine in Y/N’s hand. “You mind if I have a drink of that?”

A grin spread across their lips, but it was as far from mocking as was possible as they passed the bottle over.

“I never thought I’d see the day,”

Lifting the bottom of his mask to take a swig, Helmut groaned at the deep, bitter burn of it. “Don’t get used to it,” He replaced the fabric quickly before passing the bottle back.

“I’ll try not to,”

“Happy 20th, by the way,” Y/N added, “this is a hell of a way to celebrate, but it’s very you,”

Helmut froze as the realization sunk in that it was, in fact, the 6th of June, even if it had only been that way for a couple hours.

There had been a party planned. It was just an intimate thing, cake and a few card games in the afternoon with his closest friends, but that was long behind them now, forgotten in favor of the larger cause. To Y/N, though, there was never a larger cause than Helmut himself. He was realizing that slowly. In a bitter moment of realization, he laughed.

“What?”

“You weren’t invited,”

They quirked up an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“To the birthday party. I didn’t invite you,”

“Well, I’m here now, and this is a pretty good party if I do say so myself. You and me and the revolution all jam-packed together in the middle of a street. Wouldn’t it be cool if the new democracy was born on the same day you were?”

He smiled softly. “It was meant to be,”

“I got you something, you know, even though I knew I wasn’t invited to the party,” Y/N added breathlessly. “It was stupid, just some dumb sweater with a whole bunch of random ass quotes from Machiavelli all over the back, but Anton and I saw it when we visited the better side of town to hang up those fliers for the march a few weeks ago and we knew you had to have it. It’s sitting all wrapped up on my front table,”

“It’s a shame I won’t get to open it today,”

They nodded distantly. “Yeah, a real shame…”

Then, they were quiet again, staring up at the stars mere feet away from each other and yet miles apart, farther than they’d ever been.

Y/N cut through the soundless night first, but not before several silent minutes had passed, filled with only the distant chatter of their surviving friends and the gentle whistling of the breeze over the rooftops above. “When everything goes to shit… with the universe, I mean, not now. Everything’s already gone to shit now. But that notwithstanding, when the world goes kaput and the sun explodes, we’re all gonna be starstuff together, right? You and I and Sebastian and Andrei and Anton and… all of us. We’re gonna be nothing but matter and dust out there in space,”

“Is there a point to this or are you just having an existential crisis?” Helmut muttered, but there was no bite to it.

They just chuckled as their eyes scanned the sky.

“I was just thinking, if all of us are gonna be nothing more than matter and dust and star stuff, it only makes sense that someday, even if it’s a billion years from now, a little part of each of us will be together again as part of some supernova in the sky to be seen by somebody else, and, when that day comes, I think I’m gonna know, and everything is gonna be alright,”

He hummed thoughtfully, running a hand absently over the thick purple knit of his mask, relishing in the gummy softness of the coating on his bare fingertips in the cooling air. “That makes no sense,”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Still, it’s a pretty thought. Anton would have liked it,”

“Yeah, he would have…”

Helmut let his eyes fall from the sky to his companion. They looked so fragile, so broken, that he could barely stand himself, because, if he hadn’t made the stupid choices to lead them here, they never would have felt that way. They’d be curled up in bed somewhere, asleep and safe, far from the cold darkness of the night at his side. It made him sick.

How could he possibly put that to words? How could he apologize for denying every nudge, every chance to turn around? He couldn’t, and it made him as bitter as the wine that Y/N sipped from absently before turning to face him once again.

“Hey, Helmut,” they whispered, and his breath caught in his throat because how dare his voice sound so sweet on their lips? How dare they keep that joy, the joy of hearing his name whispered with reverence on the early morning breeze, real and caring and perfect, away from him for so long? “Do you think I could take a chair from the barricade?”

Just as soon as it had come, the joy was gone. “Why would you need a chair?”

Y/N shrugged. “I want to go sleep,”

“Why can’t you sleep out here?”

“I don’t want to be woken up,”

“We wouldn’t wake you until the fighting was starting back up again-”

“Oh, my darling fearless leader,” their voice was empty, tinny and cold, “I don’t ever want to be woken up,”

Their words pierced Helmut straight through the heart he didn’t know he had. It made him feel so much, so many emotions he had simply not allowed himself out of a misplaced sense of self-preservation. “But we’ll need every able body ready to fight when they send in the super soldiers if we even want a chance at making it out of this,”

The smile that crossed Y/N’s lips didn’t come from a place of joy, nor did it mock Helmut for his blind and dying faith. It was simply there because they did not know how to do anything else. “There’s no making it out of this. Not for me, at least. For you, though… you still have a chance,”

Denial and anger went hand in hand as Helmut sucked his teeth, grinding his molars and letting his hand ghost over his pistol hanging at his hip.

“So you’d really rather die like a coward than take a stand against the evils in the world?” he spat, harsh and cold as the air around them. “Pathetic,”

“Don’t do this now, Helmut, not after we were finally getting somewhere. I don’t want to die with things like that,”

“I’m not the one who’s giving up,” he snapped.

He just needed… something. A reaction. A reason to keep fighting when the war was already lost. Anything. Why couldn’t Y/N light the same fire in him that they’d kindled for months? The fire that had driven him to spend sleepless nights poring over maps and plans and speeches and guns. If he just pushed a little harder, just hit the right button, they’d light it again, he just knew it.

“Please,” the word fell fragile from Y/N’s lips. Not a beg, just a soft plea.

It fell on deaf ears.

“You know what? You can take your chair!” Helmut was shouting then, loud enough that the remaining students on the barricade could hear every word. “Take your chair and leave us to fight while you die in your sleep. If we make it through the day I’ll put the bullet between your eyes myself. Now get out of here! I don’t want to see you again,” There was a cruelty to it, an edge that he thought might just push them off the edge. Still, it wasn’t cruel without reason. Helmut thought that maybe, if he was lucky enough, Y/N would simply leave.

They had no stakes in the results of the revolt, no serious lasting ties that would get them hunted down in the weeks to come if things came to a gruesome end. If he bid them to leave, to disappear from his sight, there was a chance, however small, that they would disappear into the shadows with a chance to live.

Against all odds, though, Y/N smiled one of those empty smiles again and drank down the very last of their wine.

“As your baronship commands,” they whispered, before departing to gather up a chair and disappearing into the restaurant where they had met so many times before.

Then, they were gone, and Helmut was free to sink to the ground as his heart broke and mended and broke again.

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

As expected, the super soldiers arrived only a couple of hours past Y/N’s departure.

Their arrival was silent, only marked by the slow thud of retreating national guardsmen in the distance. They weren’t needed there anymore, and the less they saw the better.

Helmut watched his friends fall one by one in the panic, the barricade falling to ruin as the soldiers- if they could even be considered that, soldier seemed a far too human term for the monstrous creatures before him- pulled it apart with their bare hands. From there it was just a game of who was caught first in the insanity that ensued.

Nicholas; caught a bullet through the neck.

Vladimir; thrown against a solid stone wall at a speed near impossible.

Lazlo; impaled on a bit of broken wood as the wood exploded.

Andrei; shot 3 times point-blank in the chest as he held the door closed to buy Hans and Helmut a little more time with a love confession for his closest companion falling from his mouth.

Hans…

Helmut didn’t know how Hans died.

He had never asked. All he knew that the shots had come as he wailed Andrei’s name, and then there was a deathly silence in the golden light of the morning sun as Helmut stood alone at the back of the storeroom, taking in the 4 walls that had held the best year of his life.

What remained now?

A failed dream? A pile of bodies? A single survivor waiting for his death?

Helmut didn’t know. He couldn’t fathom it.

The two soldiers sent to finish the job were nameless and nondescript as they slipped through the door, armed with long, silent rifles and hidden by masks not too dissimilar from Helmut’s own. They did not speak, not a word. Instead, they simply raised their guns and took aim at Helmut as he closed his eyes and thought of-

“Wait!”

The word rang out heavy and made the two executioners snap to the side.

“I’m with him! I’m with the revolution! Down with King Emil! Down with the monarchy!”

There, hidden among the crates and shelves of canned goods and glass bottles, was Y/N.

They looked objectively awful, eyes rimmed red and hair mussed up and coated with oil. Still, it was the most beautiful sight Helmut had ever seen.

It was only right that they go together.

Slowly, Y/N made their way across the room to take their place at Helmut’s side. “I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but I assume you’ll make an exception for the circumstances,”

“I never meant it,” he whispered back, and Y/N smiled, “You have to know, I never meant it,”

“Even if you did, I never would have listened-”

Suddenly, one of the soldiers spoke, taking aim straight for Helmut down the barrel of their gun.

“Quiet,”

Y/N only paused for a moment before pressing their hand into his. “Kiss me, Helmut?”

Who was he to deny them?

Pulling off his mask, he pressed his lips to theirs and clasped their hand like it was the last thing he would ever do. When he pulled away, they were smiling one of their old, mocking, joyous smiles.

“Oh, fearless leader… I win,”

The words were a whisper of air against his lips. Before he could fathom the true meaning of them the pair was peppered in a spray of gunfire as Helmut closed his eyes to the world for what should have been the final time.

When he opened them, Y/N was struck dead at his feet.

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

It was their final winning move, he later realized, the checkmate to a game of chess he never believed would end.

In the end, Y/N had been as correct as they always were.

All the same, he hated them for it.

Some nights, in the darkness of his room back at the summer estate where his father has imprisoned him until further notice, he wondered if Y/N had kissed him because they wanted to or if they had done it to get him to remove his mask long enough that the soldiers would recognize him and spare him. It wouldn’t surprise him. Y/N did have a tendency to be right about things like that.

Ghosts haunted him often.

Not full specters, he would wish for something so merciful. Instead, he saw flashes in the periphery of his vision. Outside his window, he’d hear a child’s laugher and be so sure it was Sebastian until he looked out to find that it was simply a group of the staff’s children playing ball. Or, when the assigned guardsman brought him his dinner, he would glance down the hall and be so sure that a man at the other end was Lazlo, preparing to face a board of proctors as he delivered a thesis he would never write. It never was, though. It never would be.

Worst of all, when he laid awake in his bed as the clock struck twelve, he would feel them beside him.

They had never slept together in the literal sense. Whatever they had shared (love, Helmut would come to realize after many, many years with Heike, painfully hollow without the same kind of flame. He had loved them and simply never known how to show it) was purely physical and contained within that bloody, bloody storeroom that he was sure would be torn down someday soon as they glossed over the casualties and stamped out the evidence. Still, he could feel Y/N beside him in the darkness despite the fact that they had never been there.

Their head on his chest, their body pressed flush to his side, their hot breath fanning over the fabric of his nightshirt, creating a patch of damp warmth in its wake…

It was maddening, an eternal punishment he was doomed to endure for his stupidity. Nevertheless, if he let his brain wander to a better place, a different lifetime, it was almost comforting to feel their ghost wrapped tightly to his side.

When he woke, though, the loss of the dream was more maddening than living through it.

Almost a month after the failed revolution, in the hot and heady days of early July when the wasps buzzed loud at the window and the skies were filled with thunderclouds most of the time, his father finally came to speak to him.

“I trust you spent your birthday how you wished to,” Heinrich said plainly. There was no question to it, just an empty sentiment.

Mockery wasn’t nearly as pleasant when delivered by his father and not his lover, Helmut thought distantly.

“On the contrary, I spent my birthday watching everyone I cared about die,” he snapped back.

Heinrich didn’t offer any sort of commiseration. He simply shrugged and continued on with what he was there to say, not that his son minded much. The less time he spent there the more time Helmut would have to himself, which was preferable to listening to his father’s droning.

“You’re lucky to be alive. The family is on thin ice thanks to that stunt you pulled, but with time we’re all sure that you’ll become an asset if you simply learn to use that fire for something more… productive,”

Who the ‘we’ was went unspoken. It didn’t need to be.

Helmut sighed and looked out the window at the rain falling on the garden. Nicholas would have loved the gardens at this home. He would have pressed every flower at least once in the little book he kept beside him filled with the pieces of the world that he collected as he passed through it. Where would he be kept and collected now that he was dead?

“I’ve called in a favor and enrolled you for military service. You’ll be tested to find your strengths, sent where you’re best suited, and trained from the ground up. Once we know you can be trusted, you might even lead your own squadron and make some friends more of your caliber,”

It took all Helmut’s strength to clench his teeth and hold back the rage he felt in his chest. “When do I leave?”

“As soon as you’re married,”

Married.

The word struck a bolt through the rage and dissolved it, giving way to pure shock. “What the hell do you mean?”

Crossing his arms, Heinrich took to pacing a 2-foot line back and forth in front of the door. “We’ve found a suitable match from a good standing Sokovian family, and they’re willing to look past your little misstep as long as their daughter becomes a baroness and is adequately involved in society. She’ll be here in three days time and you’ll have a week to get acquainted before the wedding,”

“I never said I was going to get married,” Helmut growled, “You can’t make me get married,”

His father stared down at him from above like he was a little boy again. “I can make you do whatever I want. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what happened with that freak they shot down at your side! No son of mine is ending up with someone like-”

In an instant, Helmut had rushed across the room and punched his father square in the jaw. As blood poured down the man’s face, a hiss escaped his son’s lips.

“Never talk about Y/N like that again,”

“So it had a name!”

That earned him another punch, but Heinrich escaped Helmut’s grip quickly, cupping a hand beneath his nose to catch the redness that poured from his face. As he retreated out the door, he turned to deliver his final verdict. “You have three days to get your act together, and maybe, just maybe, if you don’t fuck this up, I’ll let you know where they dumped all your little friends to rot,” And with that, he shut the door behind him and left Helmut to pick up the pieces of his soul.

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

The tale Zemo wove was a sad one (sans most of the details about Y/N. That was a story whose finer details he would take to his grave) and as he came to a close, the purple fabric between his fingers was a tether to reality. The coating was a bit old, thinner in places than it should have been, but it had remained steady and strong for over 20 years and he didn’t know the first place to start repairing it.

Y/N would have known, they’d been the one to do it in the first place after all, but they were long gone, not even a ghost anymore. Just a name and a face forgotten to time as all the other impoverished students were, buried in an unmarked grave in a place he never learned. It was all that remained of them. The only thing that proved they were ever there at all.

“You know the rest of the story,” he added firmly. “I married Heike, climbed the ranks of the military, had my son… and they were simply lost, an unwritten page in the history of a country that no longer exists,”

Suddenly, though, a deep voice cut in through the heavy air between them.

“Ciczheni,”

“Pardon?” Zemo asked softly, pouring himself a final tumbler of whiskey and stuffing the mask back in his pocket.

“We buried them in Ciczheni,”

He nearly dropped the bottle in his hand.

Bucky was quick to continue, voice low and eyes clouded with memory in a way that only the two of them would ever truly understand. “It’s a tiny town along the border to the Czech Republic. There’s a big open field there, or at least there was, marked with a flat grave marking it as a burial site. I don’t remember the name on it, some random pseudonym, but they’re all there, all 57 dead and buried in the ground under that rock,”

Helmut gave a stiff nod. “I see,” Then, in one long gulp, he downed the whole two fingers of whiskey straight and relished in the way it burned down his throat. When the glass was empty and set down safely on the counter again he was quick to school his expression as he turned away. “I’m afraid all that excitement has exhausted me for the day. Goodnight, gentlemen,”

He was gone down the hallway into his bedroom before the pair had a chance to say another word.

Ciczheni.

As he undressed, he smiled softly, letting a few errant tears drip down his cheeks.

They had been born and raised in that tiny farming town. Sometimes, when he had let himself listen in on their conversations with some of the other members of their small, tight group, they would talk about how much they wanted to return someday, once they’d made enough money to live on for a while if they supported themself by growing a small garden and maybe keeping some chickens. The thought, even then, had always made him smile. Just Y/N and a cottage and a chicken or two.

Sometimes, if he was especially indulgent, he would imagine himself there with them. Sharing a home.

Making a family.

His biological family, the one he had created with marriage and his own flesh and blood, was something different entirely. He had loved them. God, how he’d loved them. Still, it was never the same. He was never at peace. He was never home. There would always be a bitterness there, as bitter as the dark summer wine he’d drunk the night he’d turned 20, a resentment that came with the obligation of creating a place in his heart for them when there never should have been.

For Y/N, though...

He sighed, wrapping himself in his robe and slipping on a pair of fleece pajama pants before crawling between the sheets and laying flat on his back, eyes to the ceiling.

Things wouldn’t have been happy all the time. Hell, they probably wouldn’t have been happy even most of the time. Still, they would have been where they belonged, seated firmly at his side for the rest of their long, wonderful lives.

Ciczheni, he repeated in his mind, then the memorial for Novi Grad. It was a minor detour, adding barely 2 hours more to the whole trip when he had plenty more to spare.

Ciczheni, then Novi Grad, and then, finally, peace.

Beside him, he could feel the phantom limbs wrap around his body, resting their weight firmly on his chest where the guilt and shame and terror built by the day, and for the first time in almost a decade they were not Heike’s. Perhaps, if all went according to plan, they wouldn’t be phantom much longer.

Or, if not, he would wait. He would wait a billion years to disintegrate into stardust and spread across the cosmos in search of them.

Either way, when they were together again, he’d know.

They both would.

--------

a/n: I’m not crying, you’re crying.

TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater , @elaineygrace , @multiyfandomgirl40 , @lovelymischief , @rami-malek-trash , @avgravy , @wh0re-4-techno , @forcebros , @sugarsweetkiss , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff , @killsandthrills , @novasstudy , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp , @inmate-marmalade , @alanathedeer , @your-pixels-are-showing , @shit-post-things , @bbarton , @sux-ubus , @halefirewarrior , @janelongxox , @rax-writes , @wondermia69 , @booklover2929 , @lol-im-done , @rorodendra , @spookycereal-s , @viviace , @wxrmh0le , @whatawildone , @mush-room-princess , @aliyahsfantasticlife , @gredvb , @chipster-21 , @whatawildone , @cloud-of-roses , @bry-97 , @mossybank , @simsiddy , @xxspqcebunsxx , @be-cautious-around-bri , @metaphorical-love-for-a-car , @frothonthedaydreams

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #baron helmut zemo #zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #barricade day #zemo fanfic

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99liner-s · 3 years ago

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I realized I know more than I should about USA's pop culture - me being a gen z on the internet it was kinda inevitable - but since I know so much, I've decided I should tell my followers something about Italian's pop culture. Just because.

So, on this fine evening, because I know my audience, I will strat with fanfictions. But not any fanfiction. Oh no.

I will address the specific subgenre of fanfictions written by Italians for Italians. And no, those are not your generic Pizzeria AU or, God forbids, Mafia AU.

No, Italian fanfictions written for Italians are crack or, as we prefer, trash. And it's in that trash that you find gold. That's very basic Italian 101. And it's either AUs of iconic Italian TV shows or High School/College AUs, but the characters are all stereotypes from various Italian Regions. The most common would be the Roman the one from Milan, and the one from Naples. I'll get to that in a bit.

For the category "Iconic TV show", let's enter one of the most genius AUs ever written, the Les Mis Don Matteo AU. Now, who is Don Matteo, and why is it iconic?

Don Matteo (Father Matthew) is a priest who lives in the very small town of Gubbio and when he's not saying mass - an even when he is - he solves crimes. This town is so small Don Matteo's church is the only one, and he knows every single victim and at least half of their social circle, and I swear there's a murder every other week and it's hilarious once you realize. The format is very simple: there's a murder, the police follows a clue that seems right but is wrong, and then Don Matteo remembers something random the murdered said, get to the murderer and convinces them to repent from their sins just as the police figures out who the real murderer is and barges into wherever Don Matteo and murderer are. This is it.

They have done - and I am not exaggerating- at least 16 seasons of this. There is no backstory for Don Matteo or the other characters, no actual characterization, they are all stereotypes and it is amazing

Like, we literally know so little about Don Matteo - the titular character:

1. He is a good priest

2. He like to play chess

3. He rides a bike

4. He solves crimes. Every single one of them.

5. He is Terence Hill and Terence Hill is him. He has done other stuff in his career, but none of them as iconic as Don Matteo.

6. There is always at least one child that lives with him and the few other supporting character

And the Les Mis AU is genius. I can't explain how and why because that requires a whole other post, but it is genius. Enjolras is french but his mom is Italian from an even smaller city than Gubbio, and when he gets angry he starts talking in the most unintelligible dialect ever. It's gold.

Now, for the second category, I'd like to introduce the twitter AU: Stray Kids d'Italia (or, Italian Stray Kids), in which they are very stereotyped Italian characters in High School (except Chan who is in college, but has never attended a class, and Minho, who is somehow pretty good at it - except his name is Occhi di Gatto, Cat Eyes). This is a chat fic, and a long one. Each Stray Kid lives in a different city, except Changbin and Han, they both live in Naples and have been renamed 777 and Pino, and I cannot stress how funny that is, Chan and Felix who both live in South Rome and are cousins. Yes, South. This is important. And lastly, Hyunjin and Jeongin, both from Florence and childhood friends. I won't explain how genius each character is, that would, once again need a whole post, but they are such stereotypes that they are genuinely hilarious. It's trash, but it's genius and it made me cry so much.

If you have questions, I will elaborate on anything written on this post, but for now, I guess that's enough

#italian 101 by me #don matteo #italian pop culture

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pandemicperipatetics · 3 years ago

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Two Weeks in Missoula, MT

View from a bridge over the Clark Fork River

The Verdict

What a fun place to spend two weeks! Missoula prides itself on being weird, and we can see the charm. This tiny university town of 70-80K residents is surrounded by mountains and has the cute little Clark Fork River running through it. There are hardly any tall buildings and the downtown area is full of places to eat, drink, and buy random Montana-themed tchotchkes. We encountered very few chains or national brands (basically just some hotels downtown and the nearby Albertsons grocery).

From the quad at The University of Montana, Missoula

We also got a different kind of weird vibe, though. Missoula is gentrifying, and there’s an odd juxtaposition of it feeling a bit run-down -- the downtown area on the river isn’t terribly well-maintained; the local housing stock is pretty old; the university has lost a lot of funding and applicants in recent years -- and also designed for deep-pocketed tourists (food is more expensive than comparable options in NYC; the new downtown Mercantile building that houses the ~2 year old Marriott Residence Inn feels like an upscale shopping mall; it’s hard to believe how so many breweries could be supported by the size of the local population). As visitors unfamiliar with the area, we didn’t always feel totally welcome -- and we can only imagine what it must feel like for people from the area to experience it being transformed by yuppies and Silicon Valley money. Even the local shops already evoke AirSpace, and it’s a bit sad to think of Missoula losing its quirkiness more in the future.

Walking around downtown Missoula

What to Eat: Vegetarian Edition

For a town of its size, Missoula has a surprising number of places to eat out. It was exciting to discover lots of ethnic food and plenty of vegetarian-friendly options, but ultimately we found a lot of the food to be extremely overpriced for what it was. We also noticed that many of the places we visited were advertising for staff, some were closed due to lack of staff / inventory / ingredients, and a surprisingly high number of places experienced outages of menu items during our time there.

Note: All recommendations are in downtown or within walking distance. We’ve listed them in order of how much we liked them.

Five on Black [5/5]: Brazilian food that is surprisingly vegetarian-friendly and pretty reasonably priced ($12 for a large bowl). The tofu bowl with sweet potatoes and mango BBQ sauce was out of this world. Outdoor seating was available.

Masala [5/5]: Indian make-your-own bowl, Chipotle-style ($8). The coconut curry korma was delicious, and the paneer was pretty good too. This was the best value meal we had downtown. They had outdoor seating.

Basal [4.5/5]: Smoothies and salads. The Caesar salad with vegan dressing was pretty amazing, and the creamy smoothie (blue version) was obsession-inducingly good. Knocked off half a point because it is ridiculously expensive...yet we still went back a second time because it was delicious and healthy. Can’t remember if they had outdoor seating...

Market on Front [4.5/5]: Right by our hotel, and known for breakfast burritos. We tried picking up lunch there one day but it was a 25 minute wait. We tried again for an early dinner and voila...the Rawsome Vegan Wrap ($10.50) was very good The service was friendly, too.

Bernice’s Bakery [4.5/5]: This is a cute little bakery with great bread and vegetarian-friendly lunch options; we really liked their house-made Parker rolls ($0.60 each, or great as part of their sliders). They post their changing menu on Instagram daily. We didn’t try any of their sweets but they looked very enticing. This was also one of the few normally priced places we ate at. The shaded picnic table outside was very nice to eat at.

Zoo Thai [4/5]: This is an overpriced but pretty good Thai restaurant downtown. We really enjoyed the massaman curry ($17) and the coconut milk Thai iced tea ($3.5). There is one other vegetarian curry on the menu that was also decent. The service was exceptionally friendly although they are clearly understaffed (like lots of local places, it seems) and it took an unusually long time to get our food. Their outdoor patio was nice, and about a 30 minute wait on a Wednesday around 6p.m.

Conflux [4/5]: In a similar boat to Zoo Thai: the food was pretty good but it was one of the most expensive places we visited. We liked the vegetarian burger and the mushroom sandwich, and the beers were good too. The outdoor patio is extra cute and there was no wait when we went on a Thursday evening (when the wait was over an hour at The Camino).

The Union Club [4/5]: Our friend took us here, it’s a no-frills spot with a dive bar vibe, including pool tables and a few arcade games. As far as vegetarian options, they have a veggie burger (something like $6-$8) that was pretty decent and various fried items (breaded zucchini, jalapenos, etc). It was the most reasonably priced place we ate and we liked the relaxed atmosphere. There wasn’t any outdoor seating, but luckily it was nearly empty when we went.

Break Espresso [4/5]: Cafe. The lemon jam scone was decent, very sugary. We would totally go back here, but it didn’t seem like they had outdoor seating.

The Catalyst Cafe [3.5/5]: Good brunch options; the huevos rancheros were amazing, 5/5. However, the breakfast burrito with tofu and black beans was disappointing (maybe try the vegan brunch burrito with vegetables instead), and the service was particularly grumpy compared to anywhere else we went. They charge a gratuity on take-out orders, which they were upfront about but is still a bit odd. They have outdoor tables but due to the wait we took our food to go and ate on the lovely patio at our hotel.

Madeline’s Mediterranean (food truck) [3/5]: The falafel plate ($10) was tasty but unconscionably overpriced - 3 falafel balls, some lettuce, and a good heap of french fries.

Bahn Missoula (food truck) [3/5]: We tried the tofu bahn mi sandwich ($8). It wasn’t bad, but the bread wasn’t great, overall it had a bit of a sterile taste like airport food.

Le Petit [not rated]: This is a very popular local bakery that was recommended by a friend. We visited on a Sunday a little over an hour before closing and they literally had ZERO pastries left. We actually haven’t seen that anywhere before. Maybe it’s a small town thing? We didn’t see outdoor seating.

An area across the river from downtown, near the University. Close to Bernice’s and Le Petit. The reminder to “Believe women” brought us back to Jon Krakauer’s book Missoula.

Notable places we didn’t try:

The Camino (Mexican): We heard good things from friends but the vegetarian options looked sparse. Their happy hour could be a good option if you’re in the mood for margaritas -- we put our names down on a Wednesday around 5:45PM and an outdoor table wasn’t available for us until 7:10PM, after we had already sat down at Conflux. Notably, there was an open patio table for 40 minutes that they were saving for someone who was supposedly coming “soon.”

Tagliare Delicatessen: Our friend highly recommended, but the sandwiches were mostly meat- or cheese-oriented. Could be great for a tomato/basil/mozzarella lunch option.

What to Drink

There are so many great breweries! We only tried the most popular ones, but imagine there is much more to enjoy.

Draughtworks: Gorgeous and spacious outdoor patio; we easily got a table on a Saturday at 5p (though it filled up a bit later). They seem to be known for sour and fruity beers and have many unique flavors; the flight ($10 for 4) is a great way to try them out. The watermelon rhubarb kombucha was also amazing.

Dram Works: Has a good outdoor patio and exceptionally friendly service. They let you sample anything before ordering. We really loved their peanut butter beer. They also have multiple kombucha options on tap!

Big Sky Brewing: We didn’t actually go to this brewery, but tried their beers at a fun street festival (Roots Festival) that happened during our visit. We had to mention this because their beers were so delicious!

The Roots Festival was fun -- in addition to enjoying beer and food trucks, the 4-mile race through south Missoula was great!

Plonk: Cocktails place with an extremely cute outdoor patio upstairs. The cocktails were excellent -- especially loved the Pink Panther (it had watermelon in it, what’s not to love?)

Lake Missoula Tea Company: Not beer, but their array of loose leaf teas was incredibly interesting and expansive! They can brew a cup of any tea for purchase in store if you’d like. We heard the lychee black tea was exceptional, though didn’t try it. We did try the vegan ginger chai, which was good. Definitely a fun place to visit if you enjoy tea.

What to Do

As this was our stop between Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks, we didn’t do a ton apart from eating and drinking.

We did hear there is some decent hiking nearby. We walked the M Trail -- a short, straight uphill hike (1.2 miles each way) with a good view of Missoula -- it was perfect at around 8:30a.m. while still shady. Pattee Canyon was a longer hike recommended to us.

View from the M Trail

We heard hanging out on the river can also be fun. We did a chill ~2 hour tubing excursion on the Clark Fork River with Clark Fork Yacht Club. It was a lot of fun, we definitely recommend!

Where to Stay

We would have loved to stay in an Airbnb to get a feel for what it’s like to live in an actual neighborhood. Availability was sparse -- a local friend told us housing has been very difficult to find across the board as gentrification has accelerated, and we were also visiting for the 2 weeks before the fall semester started at the University.

We ended up staying at the Marriott Residence Inn Downtown (it was actually cheaper than the few Airbnb options we saw -- you can get a decent discount for staying 12+ nights). It felt more like a hip Manhattan high rise apartment than a Residence Inn -- it was swanky with a great gym and outdoor patio. The service wasn’t great and the staff were fairly unhelpful, but it otherwise worked out fine. The location was great: we were within walking distance of basically everything we wanted to do.

View from the Marriott Residence Inn Downtown Missoula patio

#missoula

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omgthatdress · 5 years ago

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How to make Cats a good movie.

I watched Cats, and once I got over the initial horror, I was actually pretty entertained and found myself enjoying the shit out of it. Like god bless it, for as nightmare-inducing as much as it was, Tom Hooper was clearly *committed* to his vision and you gotta give him credit for that. The scenery was actually really beautiful and the cinematography was frequently breathtaking. Like it really did have a lot of elements that really worked for it. But for every bit of genius, there was something terrible that the movie just couldn’t overcome. So let’s dive in.

First of all, you kind of have to understand Cats: the musical. It’s an adaptation of poems that T.S. Elliott of nihilistic lost generation fame wrote for his godchildren about cats. And the poetry is charming af and totally captures the nature of cats and why they’re so lovable. In the in the 1970s, Andrew Lloyd Webber did a shit ton of cocaine and decided to make a musical out of these poems. As a result, Cats has no plot. It’s a bunch of cats singing their songs about who they are and doing a lot of dancing. The thinnest of narrative devices is created with the “jellicle” ball and the deciding of which cat gets to ascend to heaven or some shit. So yeah. Cats is actually pretty controversial among theater nerds, it’s very much a you either love it or hate it thing. Is it stupid? Yes. Is it going to make everyone happy? No. Does it lend itself well to film adaptation? fuck no. I get the feeling that Tom Hooper was really going for deep, meaningful poetic cinema here and trying to make another Les Mis (which was way overly long and ultimately sank under its own sheer weight as a movie and probably is better viewed as a play). I’m operating under the assumption that Hooper was going for ground-breaking cinema that would have made millions and swept up during awards season and cemented him as a legendary director and gone down in movie history, because every little detail of Cats is clearly meant for maximum impact. You kind of need to drop all expectations going into Cats, so once you’re there, you can have fun with it. So how do you make it a good film?

1. The HORRIBLE hyper-realistic cgi human-cat hybrids. YES, it’s a technical marvel, and the CGI artists who made it all deserve a ton of credit for the work they did. And I understand why the actors were kept in their human shapes: live dance is a huge part of what makes Cats work. One of the smart decisions made was hiring theater veterans for the filler roles in the cat chorus, so when you have the choreographed numbers, it’s really spectacular. It’s just the end result was way too uncanny valley and bizarre for any of the film’s good parts to ever rise above it. I think a minimalist approach would have actually worked best. Cat ears and simple costumes with clean lines that show off the dancer’s bodies. Go for the suggestion of cats, and kind of let the viewer’s imagination take over, and showcase the cat’s personality. A huge part of what I enjoyed was hearing the poetry and imagining these cats and how they all relate to cats I’ve known. The dance and the music helped heighten this experience, but hybrids kept reminding me of the joke: what do you get when you cross a human and a cat? An immediate cessation of funding and a stern rebuke from the ethics committee.

2. The schlocky, honestly amateurish attempts at slapstick humor. I’m gonna come out and say it and say that Hooper is pretty deeply entrenched in *dRaMa* and has no sense of how comedy works. There was a lot of added in comedic bits from Rebel Wilson and James Corden, and it was honestly terrible. I mean really, a crotch hit? That kind of lowbrow comedy is so crude and base that it’s actually really hard to pull it off well. Slapstick comedy actually lends itself to the whimsical tone, and slapstick done well can be utterly sublime, but Cats seemed satisfied that fat people falling over is the height of comedy and should be left at that. And a second note on the comedy? Weirdly fat-shame-y. A saw a post about how odd it is to see James Corden, who has been very frank about how he’s struggled with dieting and come to accept that his body is fat and can’t be made not fat, playing this role where fat is added to his body, his CGI vest strains at the buttons, and he’s literally stuffing his face with garbage. The theme of fat people as lazy, stupid, and slovenly carried over from Rebel Wilson’s role, in which she also plays a fat lazy cat who is leaned on heavily for comic relief. I know the role is about a fat cat, and gently laughing at a fat lazy cat who loves to eat is fine, but, speaking as a fat person myself, this felt like a gleeful exploitation of a nasty and cruel stereotype. James Corden and Rebel Wilson are both extraordinarily funny people who happen to be fat, and their comedic gifts were tremendously mis-used here, reducing them to simply two fat bodies to be laughed at.

3. Jennifer Hudson. She’s a talented actress who can sing and emote like a motherfucker. And emote she did. She was clearly GOING for that second Oscar. I really don’t want to call her performance bad. The same level of emotion, tears running and snot flowing, in another movie, would have been devastating (Hello, Viola Davis in Fences). But this isn’t Fences, it’s fucking Cats. You need a level of character depth and development that Cats doesn’t afford to make those tears hit. All the crying and misery was an odd maudlin and over-dramatic break in the fun and whimsy. With a subtler performance and a hint of self-awareness, it could have actually brought in an emotional anchor for this light-as-air film, but Cats doesn’t make any attempt at nuance, and as a result the scenes just hit you out of nowhere like a load of bricks.

4. Francesca Hayward. Okay, before we go anywhere, I want to say that this girl is not un-talented. She’s the principal ballerina of the Royal Ballet, and has a very long list of ballets that she’s lead in. So it makes sense that she’d be hired for a role that’s primarily ballet. This girl is a really really great DANCER. But Cats was clearly trying to make an A-list actress out of her. They tried to make her into Florence Pugh, who has been acting for a while and is blowing up right now because she’s very talented. Like everything about Francesca’s role in the film said “This is a star-making role.” A new song was written just for her to sing as an addendum to Cats’s show-stopping signature song. But the song was just okay, it didn’t carry nearly the emotional weight or all-around beauty of “Memories,” and all in all felt wedged-in and totally unnecessary and really just felt like a grab at that “best original song” Oscar. Francesca’s voice is high, thin, and child-like. It’s not unpleasant, but next to the richness and depth of Jennifer Hudson’s voice, it crumbles, and it’s not the sort of voice that I want to seek out to listen to over and over again. As for her overall performance, she largely keeps the same look of wide-eyed wonder throughout her numerous close-ups, so much so that I found myself thinking of the the MST3K “dull surprise” sketch. But I don’t know if that’s really entirely her fault. There was an attempted romantic storyline with the magic cat, but again, because of the nature of Cats and its lack of real character development or depth, the chemistry fell flat. There really isn’t much of a chance to show off a lot of dramatic range, so to keep going back to her character, it kept reinforcing the one-notedness of her performance. Really, I just kept wanting to see Francesca dance. Ironically, I think they really blew an opportunity trying to make an A-list actress out of her. All she really need to make people want to see more of her is one spectacular dance number, but for some reason, she never really gets that show-stopping moment.

5. Dignity? I guess this goes back to the whole CGI cat thing, but there were a lot of moments when I felt this tremendous wave of second-hand embarrassment hit me on behalf of the talented actors in this film. Watching Gandalf lap up milk from a saucer was a wholly uncomfortable experience, like come on, grant the great Ian McKellan some fucking DIGNITY here. Which goes back to whatI said earlier that a suggestion and interpretation of cats would have worked better than all-out just being a cat. Or it could again just be how much Cats just fails its attempts at comedy. But then again there was no fucking reason at all for Idris Elba to be that fucking NAKED. I guess they were trying to make him sexy? But his sexy smolder and just being Idris Elba wasn’t enough they had to make sure that we all saw his chiseled pecs and thick thighs. And then at the end when he’s dangling off of the rope of a hot air balloon and what’s supposed to be a funny scene, I think, I kept thinking “I’m so sorry this is happening to you, Idris.”

There’s a bunch of other small, nit-picky things that I could go into. Those cockroaches would have worked so much better if they weren’t humans with an extra set of arms. Watching them get eaten was some horror movie shit. Taylor Swift’s Macavity song would have worked a lot better if the cat chorus full of cats we’ve gotten to know had sung it, but instead Taylor Swift is brought in as a new cat we don’t know whose only purpose is to sing the Macavity song? but of course a big oscar-bait movie needs to have that pop star that draws in the people who wouldn’t otherwise see it and making her a part of the cat chorus would have had her performing throughout the whole movie and she would have floundered the way pop stars tend to do when performing musical theater around a bunch of musical theater actors. So I guess I get why she was thrown in.

So.... yeah? Is there anyone else who found themselves enjoying it in spite of everything? I’m glad I have dogs and didn’t have to watch this mess with actual cats around me.

#Cats 2019 #Cats

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smallblueandloud · 4 years ago

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2020 fic round-up

[image description: picture of a bar graph titled “2020″ with bars representing words written in each month of 2020. the bars are made up of colored blocks that represent the words written for various projects during that month. on the bottom, there’s a key: “fitzskimmons ‘verse” (blue), “hoo rewrite” (black), “school essays 2019-20″ (green), “various fanfic/meta 2020″ (orange), “doctor who ficlets 2020″ (purple), and “school essays 2020-21″ (pink). in the upper left, there’s a pie chart titled “projects breakdown” with colored slices that also correspond to the key. end id.]

SO I WROTE A LOT OF FIC LAST YEAR. like, a lot more than i was expecting to. in 2019 i barely cracked 100k (my total was 101,775 words) and last year i wrote......... 200,959 words. which is. a lot. honestly i don’t know why or how so many words got written this year but i guess i just stuffed all of my anxious energy into my writing?

and there was a lot of anxious energy in 2020.

some interesting stats that i am writing out just because i feel like it:

july had the most words written with 34,151. november had the least with 1,684, although really it should have been december with the least. i wrote a lot of essays near the end of the year that i just counted for december 31. apparently stress makes it really hard to write, who knew? (i did. everyone did. i’m just trying to be flippant about how i've only written like 3k of fanfic in the past two months and i’m worried about my skills leaving me. anyway.)

ao3 says i published about 120k last year! (it’s approximate because i’m subtracting the first chapter of the fsk rewrite.) a.... reasonable portion of that is from the beginning of the year when i was posting stuff written in 2019, but i’m still proud of it! i’m really glad that i got to share that much fic with y’all, and i’m so grateful for how lovely all of you were when reading it.

i published 21 fics last year! that’s about double what i’d posted in the past two years combined, which i’m proud of! the fandom i published the most fics for was agents of shield, with doctor who, mcu, and the west wing tied for second.

i published fic for nine fandoms last year (agents of shield, b99, doctor who, his dark materials, les mis, mcu, miraculous ladybug, steven universe, and the west wing). i had a very informal goal of ten fandoms, but i’m still really happy with the ones i managed to get to. six of those nine were fandoms i’d never written for! that’s really cool and cash money of me i think.

i wrote 43,442 words for essays. that is MUCH too many. at least i am now done with them!

i started counting meta in my wordcounts last year! or, more accurately, i actually started following through on counting meta in my wordcounts last year. i’d been meaning to for a while before then, but last year i wrote quite a bit more of “meta”/headcanons than i’d expected to (remember when i wrote like 1k about each of the prequel movies and how i’d fix them?) and i figured i’d better count them since they were all the writing i was doing. this doesn’t include stuff from ask memes, since i just.... didn’t count those? but it DOES include things like that 4k post about the fsk playlist.

i ended the year with ten wips, which is more than i think i’ve ever had at once before. they are in various stages of completion -- there’s two or three that probably only need a few hours, and there’s two or three that are literally just me having feelings in longform for [checks notes] CHRIST I WROTE 4K ABOUT THE SKYWALKER TWINS BEFORE THEY KNEW THEY WERE TWINS. okay then. whelp, that one is gonna take a LOT longer because it doesn’t even have a central idea yet. we’ll get there.

my most popular work of the year was in blackwater woods, to the surprise of absolutely no one. i love the doctor who fandom. y’all are just the absolute best.

my... least read (?) work (yeah we’re going with that) is bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust. (think you should come home had fewer kudos but WAY more hits and comments, so i’m splitting the difference.) it’s a fic for a small fandom about a tiny subsection of canon that features a character who’s only been tagged in three works, so i’m not surprised. also, last i checked, ao3 counts fics tagged with both the book of dust and his dark materials as crossovers, and in a fandom tag like hdm where you need to filter out crossovers to avoid all the teen wolf daemon aus.... yeah i get it. i’m not super broken up over it lmao. hopefully the third book of dust installment will be SIGNIFICANTLY LESS TERRIBLE and people will check out the fandom tag!

so yeah! 2020 was a pretty good fic year for me, ignoring the two months at the end of the year where basically nothing happened. for a very informal goal.... publish things for those Big Fandoms that i love very much but have never published anything before? star wars, star trek, xmen, etc. (yeah i know i have an xmen fic but no i don’t <3) OH and i also want to finish the fsk rewrite this year! chapter 3 is probably not going to happen by april, but hopefully i can finish it by the end of the year.

anyway, thanks for stopping by! all of you are such wonderful people and fandom was one of the highlights of my year. thank you for being so supportive, and here’s to a 2021 that cleans itself up and leads to impeachment.

#sb and l rambles #sb and l is writing #if there's a way that i can improve the id please let me know #okay and now to tag all of these fics lmao #fic: in blackwater woods #fic: bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust #verse: fitzskimmons thingy #fic: you're a candle in the window #2020 #fic roundup

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thelittleredheadedmusician · 4 years ago

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some original nonsense

“I’m so glad I get to be here for this,” Eve practically flung herself onto the couch, bouncing slightly before settling. She’d just gotten dropped off after rehearsal and was miraculously still teeming with energy.

Clara pursed her lips, an obvious attempt to cover up a smile. They’d spent the day helping Eli and Ann track down paperwork and somewhere between the borough hall and stopping at the deli for lunch had been seen by Oliver’s parents. Who forced him to introduce them to Clara and insisted she come for dinner. Ann managed to talk her way out of it by vague statements of “being with her family right now” that had the McNally’s cooing in understanding. Clara couldn’t manage the same without raising too many questions. At least not that quickly.

So, she’d spent the evening at the farmhouse and then had herself talked into spending the night. The whole experience was odd, Clara settling somewhere between her true sharp self and the doe-eyed charming he’s seen her present herself as. Oliver had the sense that it was strange for her too and that Clara was navigating uncharted waters as she ate his mom’s chicken alfredo.

But after dinner his parents retreated to the office that used to be the dining room, claiming to be going over paperwork but probably watching House Hunters or something. Leaving the living room to “the kids” which fit when Eve came barging in.

“I was so worried you would be gone when I got home,” she told Clara, having latched on to the older girl a few days before.

“I was somehow convinced to spend the night.” Clara narrowed her eyes, brows drawn low as she tried to puzzle out exactly how that had happened. It made her freckles scrunch up into an indistinguishable blur.

Eve nodded sagely and began wrapping herself up in one of the afghans from over the back of the couch. “Yeah, they do that. It’s a weird quirk of being the ‘cool parents.’” Oliver knew by her tone that she was using air quotes but from the cocoon his sister had made herself it was hard to tell.

Oliver finished tweaking the playlist he’d made, deciding to kill as many birds with one stone as possible, and pressed play. Rising from his crouch next to their entertainment center to go sit on the couch on Clara’s other side. The music began to play through the living room’s speakers and Eve giggled madly.

Clara turned to give him the most suspicious look he’d ever seen, and that was saying a lot based on the past week’s events. “I know this song. Maybe. It sounds familiar.”

Shaking his head, Oliver barely managed to contain his laughter. “Nope.”

The lyrics started and the look of baffled confusion that overcame Clara was the best thing he’d ever witnessed. She froze, shook her head slightly, narrowed her eyes, and then finally turned to him in betrayal. “When did this happen? I was just in Constantinople... When was I in Constantinople?”

Eve squeaked, high and long as she inhaled. Unable to hold in her own laughter any longer. Oliver managed to remain silent though he was shaking and his stomach ached at the strain.

“This isn’t funny,” Clara insisted. Her glare wasn’t that harsh though so Oliver didn’t relent. “Oliver!” she scolded. “It’s not funny!”

“No, it’s hilarious,” he said between gasps of breath. “And it only gets better.”

“Russia’s favorite love machine?” Clara looked like she was going to be sick. “I mean, I might have actually met Rasputin but honestly he was disgusting. And smelt terrible.”

It was Oliver’s turn to look on in horror. “Of all the things you managed to miss, you met Rasputin?”

“Possibly,” Clara said sheepishly. “It could’ve just been a drunk.”

One day, Oliver would stop being shocked by things Clara said. But apparently not today.

“Ok,” Eve interrupted, “but thoughts on the song?”

“It’s... good?”

The look of pure offense Eve gave her made Oliver want to whither and he was mostly immune at that point. Eve took a deep breath, seeming to recenter herself. “It’s a certified bop, Clara.”

“Ok, I’m not an idiot. I know about the Battle of Waterloo. And I’ve read Les Misérables.” Clara was unimpressed by Abba.

“You actually read Les Mis?” Eve clearly had her own priorities.

Oliver might not really be into theater but Eve was and he managed to pick some things up. “Ok, hold on.” He tried to do some quick math, but just asking Clara would really be easier. “When did you just... stop following cultural events?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, some point after the second Great War?”

Eve and Oliver shared a look, leaning forward so that they could do so. Eve’s expression said that either Oliver handle this or she would. And also, what the heck was he planning?

“Ok, so World War II, not second Great War. Where did you even get that one?” he tried to be gentle. But honestly, what the heck?

Clara wrinkled her nose. “I’ve outlasted entire civilizations, Oliver,” she hissed. “Cut me some slack for forgetting some terms. English isn’t even my second or third language. And you people keep changing it.”

Oliver lifted his hand in defense. “Ok, ok. Point taken. Still, did you not pay attention to the Broadway or West End theater scenes in the 1980s?”

“No?” Clara turned to see if Eve might be any help. Her slightly manic look meant that probably not.

“So, you didn’t know that Les Mis is a musical?” She gasped.

Clara slowly shook her head.

“Ollie!” Eve screeched, but he was already standing, going to shift through the many DVDs Eve had of various performances.

“Bed,” their mom said, emerging from the office. Their dad had already headed upstairs sometime during One Day More and she was currently in her pajamas.

Eve tilted her head up, shaking off the hand that Mom was combing through her hair. “But, it’s not over!” she whined. The drums of the finale refrain of Do You Hear the People Sing were starting up meaning that it would be over very shortly.

“And you’ve seen it a million times and have school tomorrow. Bed,” she countered.

“Clara’s never even seen Phantom!” Eve tried to counter, which they’d discovered when Eve began rambling about actors sometime during ABC Cafe. Oliver loved his sister, he hated that he knew the names of every song in Les Mis.

“Clara can stay up and watch it with Oliver then. Or just visit another day,” Mom glanced to Oliver with an almost apologetic tilt to her smile.

“I can come back,” Clara offered softly. The effect was immediate. Eve and his mom both had twin smiles of pure glee. Much like Ann a few years earlier, Oliver’s friend had been officially deemed another extension of the family. Well neither girl seemed to mind so far.

Eve launched herself onto Clara in a hug, throwing her blankets to the floor and startling the blonde. Over Eve’s shoulder, he could see Clara’s pale eyes widen and it looked like she was trying very hard not to let her shock get the best of her. They’d managed to keep his parents in the dark about the whole “technically dead” bit but Eve passing right through Clara would kind of ruin the careful charade.

“I’ll wait until next time for Phantom,” Oliver made it sound like a chore, but he knew Eve would be pissed not to be included. And the whole experience would be more enjoyable for Clara because the two girls had talked through the entirety of Les Mis about the characters and changes from the book. He was positive watching Phantom of the Opera would be the same.

“You’re not a terrible human,” Eve said by way of thanks.

Oliver shrugged and their mom rolled her eyes. She started ushering Eve towards the stairs as she said her goodnights. When it became clear that Eve was still occupied squeezing the unneeded air from Clara’s lungs, she gave up. “Don’t stay up too late you two. And Eve, your butt better be in bed by the time those credits stop.”

Clara laughed and finally began to peel Eve’s arms off her. “You should listen to your mother,” she said kindly.

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“If you don’t leave now I will introduce Clara to Drunk Space Pirate without you,” Oliver threatened.

Eve gasped and leapt to her feet. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

The two stared each other down as Eve began backing towards the stairs, almost stumbling over the coffee table in the process. “I knew you like The Mechanisms.”

Oliver smirked. “Space operas, Eve.”

His sister huffed and ran upstairs. Clara started laughing softly. “What was that about?”

“I’ll explain later. I think the novelty of being a ghost would be ruined if I became one too, which would happen if I explained without Eve.”

“Your sister does seem capable of murder,” Clara agreed.

“I feel like all the women in my life are?”

“Yes.”

Oliver started cracking up at that. Clara joined him. It felt cathartic in light of... everything. Then they remembered that the rest of the house had been going to sleep so they tried to hush each other. Only to laugh more.

Finally, they sobered and Oliver went to go get his laptop. “Do you know literally anything about the band Nirvana?”

Clara blinked. “Do you enjoy asking questions you know the answer to?”

Barking a short laugh, Oliver came back over to sit next to her again. “Ok, fair. But I’m going to play an ironic critic of how people respond to the lead singer’s death for you now.”

“Why?” Clara asked incredulously.

“I really just want to see what someone so totally removed from the situation thinks of this song.” Oliver shrugged.

“You are very strange.”

“And you shouldn’t throw stones.”

#hitch hiker #own writing #original writing

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musicallisto · 4 years ago

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songs that make your heart beat (tag game)

I was tagged by @lxncelot - thank you so much for tagging me! this tag was made for me. (also, lie to me and iris are GOOD. not to spoil anything, but iris is one of my song prompts for my 1k writing challenge, so stay tuned for that maybe.)

“Hiiii so I thought of this game where you put 5 songs that just make you feel out of this world with a short explanation- It could be your comfort songs, your favorite ones, anything that makes you feel things! and then tag your friends :))” @/spideyanakin

These are some of my favorite songs of all time - and I'll try to explain as best as I can but sometimes you just... feel the vibe and can't think you know.

1. 5 seconds of summer - wrapped around your finger

while Olive hated 5sos with a burning passion in junior high, I was utterly and feverishly obsessed with them. if you knew me in 2014-2018 during my 5sos phase no you didn't. but wrapped around your finger still SLAPS as hard as it did back in the day and I have nothing but love for that song. it's so angsty!! but good!!! and like, poignant!!! and gut-wrenching!!!! and it has that ~nocturnal elegy~ feel to it. i love it. excellent vibes. (strong STRONG contender i hesitated with too: outer space/carry on by 5sos for the same reasons, tho I'd argue outer space is objectively better than wayf but I have poured too much of my soul in wayf)

2. bruno mars - young girls

why? you ask. why a bruno mars song? idk i literally DON'T KNOW these are pure vibes. vibes and only vibes!!!! when i was a kid and really into pop music (before i went through my emo phase and despised everything that was on the radio), i was really into bruno mars and lady gaga (locked out of heaven still has me shook). but i discovered this song much later and it was love at first listen. it has a very particular feel, nostalgic and melancholic, that you don't find often in pop music, and especially not in bruno mars' discography? of course he's written beautiful ballads and poignant songs (grenade SLAPS), but this one is different. in the best way. it destroys me every time.

3. hollywood undead - lion

in my voice ask when i talked about how i came to learn english, i briefly mentioned hollywood undead and how obsessed with them i was in seventh grade (which prompted my emo phase, as i said). they were super edgy and their lyrics super fucking raw. looking back now, they were sometimes too edgy, but not lion. lion still hits as hard as it did on the first day. i've never quite managed to totally grasp what it deals with (addiction, maybe?), which is a common occurrence in my favorite songs. but i'm always left breathless by the end of the song, and i don't think i'll ever outgrow that love.

4. ana belén - peces de ciudad (lit. city fish)

this is the nostalgia speaking here... but my mom used to listen to this song all the time when i was young, and it's been etched in my brain ever since. it helps that the lyrics are absolutely magnificent (courtesy of joaquín sabina, spanish songwriter and poet). there are many versions of this song, but ana belén's remains my favorite because of the memories i associate with it, and also how clear and soft her voice is. besides, it features my favorite twitches to the original lyrics (en Macondo comprendí & cuando en vuelo regular surqué el cielo de Madrid). the second verse is so ethereally beautiful, like! it's out of this world, i don't know how to explain it. it truly sends me to another dimension. if you look closely, this song is everywhere on my blog, most notably as my title (pez de ciudad), and at some point it was in my bio (as ¿y como huir cuando no quedan islas para naufragar?).

5. michel sardou - les lacs du connemara (lit. the lakes of connemara)

WAIT the tag never said that these all had to be serious and angsty and introspective and stuff!!!! it's literally called 'songs that make your heart beat', and boy if my heart doesn't beat during that song then i must be very dead. a little bit of context: it is a tacit truth among the french nation that this song must be played at every single house party, and most specifically as the last song. it's an implicit agreemennt to let everyone know that it's time to clean up and go home; so it's kind of a little bit of a meme, right? like, everyone is piss drunk when they hear it, so i bet no one remembers having ever heard the song in full. but somehow everyone knows the lyrics, and it gives way for the most beautiful moments in humanity. picture this: a crowd of fifteen or twenty people hoisting you up by the shoulders and jumping around to this epic irish beat? you've never spoken to any of these people and you'll never speak to them again but for the six minutes of this song, you're bound by the unspeakable friendship of five a.m. i love it, i love the moment so much.

but THEN! the thing IS! as i've said, this song is kind of this drunken meme in france, right? but i like it; unironically, i truly do. and i may very well be the only person on the face of earth to genuinely love it - except for the beaufs, but that's a whole another deal that i can't get into rn -, but it's as much of a banger as any other song on this list. clearly this is beyond a good time with friends. this song is a religion and i feel it carnally.

also that sardou dude plays enjolras in the original les mis adaptation and i have not been the same ever since i learned that. enjolras belting les lacs is glorious it brings me too much joy

this was such a fun tag - thank you for thinking of me! i'm tagging anyone who wants to do it! ♥

#tag game #music #abt c

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the-metaphorical-jellicle-cat · 4 years ago

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A Scene in Cats 2019 Where the Music Makes the Scene Better

Last time I spoke about Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat and mostly talked about how I think Steven McRae’s talent as a dancer influenced how the song was basically choreographed and how it seemed as though all the energy went into this performance.This time, it’s Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer’s turn. I actually really liked this both as a song and performance. Like with Skimbleshanks, I will be going over my initial thoughts with the music and then the scene itself. I also think the same can be said here when those cast for Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer make the scene better than it needed to be. Alright here we go!

When I first listened to the soundtrack recording, I was very puzzled. I was already familiar with the version from 1998 which is upbeat and fun. This version was jazzy and slow. I was definitely surprised but in a good way. When I did some research to see if this version was actually from the show’s history. And it was (and is) used in the original London production. If you want a good idea of how it was performed you can see it here as it is in the 1993 London production. Anyway, the opening instrumentals really gave an immediate different feel from what I was used to. Just from that opening, I know that these cats are sneaky and they know it.

I also get a Pink Panther type of feeling with the instrumentals. Where Pink Panther sets the mood of the music to be mysterious and shows how it’s a detective film, Jerrie and Teazer give off a mood of sneakiness and danger. And that only in the first 16 second of the track. The use of the cymbals and the horns also lends towards tension. We don't know what these cats are going to do. Because I am listening to it first, I don’t know if they have an audience or not. Who are they singing to and why? The use of piano is also hesitant yet inviting. We want to know. We have a need. The same can be said with the clarinet, strings, and some of the piano. It is a hint of what’s to come.

Then we hear the characters singing. I needed to remember that this was recorded as a ‘live performance’ in the Tom Hooper style. (If you don’t know what I am referring to, watch this video. I also made a post about it. Just search the tag #sideways and you’ll find it.) Anyway, so far in the movie, as according to the soundtrack, we have heard 3 solos. 2 of which were terrible and 1 that was actually pretty good. The reason being that it was sung live just like Les Mis was. I thought they were going to butcher Mungo and Teazer but was surprised when I heard the singing capabilities of the actors (Naoimh Morgan and Danny Collins) who are from the world of musical theater. Of course I didn't know that when listening to the track at first but one can tell they had experience with this type of music. Their voices pull you into their story almost as if they are talking to the audience very much like in the stage show. I also want to point out the instrumentation once more since, unlike the other songs,it almost becomes a character in itself by contributing to the version that is being performed.

After that we come to the midpoint where we hear big brass and percussion. There is something happening but we don’t know what it is. We can infer by the use of these instruments that something chaotic is happening in the scene. It builds and builds and we hear Rumpletazer come in once more but quieter as she is hiding something. It’s 72 seconds of instrumental music which takes us to a different location musically with the instruments. As Teazer sings her part, we hear more piano but with Mungo, we hear a dynamic change with the horn and the instruments that follow. The music becomes more playful and more like the characters we know from the stage version.

What I really love about this track is the playfulness we hear when they are at the dining room section of the song. Mungo breaks the song by speaking instead of singing and it works. It works because it helps us understand how the cats view humans. To them, we are their source of fun. These two cats like to trick humans for food and essentially cause as much chaos as they can. Then we hear an entirely new voice. It’s Victoria and we realize these two actually do have an audience. It's this new voice who sounds taken in by their story. They have her wrapped around their paw. You can especially tell this because Victoria finished the line “it’s that horrible cat”.

Afterwards we get another big band moment but it lasts longer than the last. There’s more bombastic horns and saxophones and percussion while their voices reach above them. This combination pushes that chaotic sneaky narrative we heard at the very beginning. We even hear a guitar that uses the same musical theme as the horns/saxophones.

Then we get towards the end of the track and I hear something I have no idea how to take. We hear them creating the chaos we have only heard through the music. We hear the smash. We hear the crash. However, it sounds very rushed and the actors sound out of breath. I can barely tell what the lyrics are and if I wasn't so familiar with this song I would probably never know.

Then the music quiets while keeping that mischievous tone. I also love Victoria’s high note for the word “and” and how it matches with one of the instruments. But Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer whisper “and there’s nothing at all to be done about that” like it's a conspiracy and they can get away with pretty much anything. The end of the song also has a sense of finality. This is who they are and they managed to get Victoria to follow what they want. The fact that the music does this also suggests that something is going to happen. Nothing stays final and their chaos doesn't end there. All of which we see later in the film but not the music. We just get a taste.

Overall, I like what they did with this song musically and vocally. This version is different and not used as often as the one we know which is smart. They also had to choose a version that matched the film’s aesthetic, was different in mood from Bustopher Jones, and gave a different interpretation of the characters. It needed to stand out against what we had heard so far and I think it accomplished that task.

Now onto the scene itself. I had to backtrack a bit after Bustopher Jones and really listen to the dialogue that happens during the track itself. The first 16 seconds of the song is instrumental yet the dialogue within that section is important. Victoria had to leave her new friends because of Macavity. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer literally pick her up which transports her into their world of chaos and shenanigans. I’m going to be pointing this out a lot in this section but the tail animation is used perfectly throughout the sequence. Their tails are used to make sure Victoria is looking at them when each of them is speaking. It’s a great detail which then causes us to pay attention to the two cats’ relationship. Their facial expressions are also great! We get a moment where Rumpleteazer is speaking to Victoria and the look on Mungojerrie’s face gives us a hint of what’s in store. The music itself helps with this set up of mischievous fun.

You can also see how Victoria is very uncomfortable with the two cats at the very beginning of the song. Her face and posture is uptight and uncomfortable. She is kind of forced to be there since none of the other cats are there with her. She doesn't want to be there but Rumpleteazer ‘encourages’ her to have some fun. Teazer steals the spotlight in the beginning of the song as it shows Victoria this is what they do. She even does this thing with her hand as if she is hypnotizing the other queen. Teazer even nods to Jerrie to continue with the job. It’s almost as if Teazer is technically used as a reassurance device to show that this is okay and they’ve done this before.

Then Teazer puts the pearls around Victoria’s neck. Of course this is done with the line “suddenly missing her Woolworth pearls” and it is effective. This is when Victoria begins to trust these two cats. To her they are different. They don't take the world seriously. The fact they are having fun basically destroying every room in the house makes everything right.

The camera work from when they are on the bed to when Mungojerrie puts the drawers on Victoria is very well done. The circular motion of the camera creates movement with the choreography without it becoming nauseating.

I don’t have much else to say about the sequence other than once the music picks up near the end, we see why they become so out of breath. They are literally destroying the kitchen and the bedroom with very little care. And, again, Victoria is fully invested which also contributes to her part in the actual song. In the version we know, the only vocals come from Mungo and Teazer. This version has Victoria, who represents the audience. At the beginning we only hear the two trouble makers. Then Victoria has bits and pieces. She, like us, wants to be part of this new type of fun. And destroying property can be fun.

Overall this is a version that deserves to be seen and heard. I think if we got the other version, we might have a different movie all together and these characters might be different. This is definitely one of the many highlights of the film. The others being the ones I’ve already written about. But what I love most about this sequence is the acting, tail animations and the use of practical props.

I will say this now, if it wasn't for Naoimh Morgan and Danny Collins, this could have been a lot different. The acting, especially the facial expressions throughout the scene, are perfect for these characters. They give a sense of mischievousness and like they can get away with anything. Their facial expressions give more to this idea that these characters like to have some relatively harmless fun. If it wasn't for those facial expressions, I don’t think I would have enjoyed this version as much as I did.

There is also the use of dialogue that I didn't expect to like but it works. In between some of the phrases, dialogue is said by the two cats which help with their character. My favorite bit is from Mungojerrie on the stairs. He says something to a ‘police officer’ which is in character for the purpose of the film.

This is also probably one of the best scenes to watch if you want to see how they used the tail animations for the characters. My notes for this scene were mostly just how they animated those tails. I wrote examples above, but another one is when Victoria is singing ‘And’ at the end of the song. If you pay close attention, her tail rattles because of the high note. Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer also constantly use their tails to communicate with each other and Victoria.

There are also two things I want to commend in this sequence. The use of practical props and the scale of the set. I really like how the cast used the practical props in a way that not only showed quirks of the characters but also development (in Victoria’s case.) My favorite set of props they used were during the dining room scene. There were parts where it did feel a bit faked and plastic but I ignored it in favor of the performance. There were several points I did have to remind myself that this world is different from reality. Other than that, this sequence used props that pushed the story rather than hinder it. They weren't there to be there, the props were there for a reason. One can say they are a character in themselves because this world takes human objects and transforms them into how a Jellicle may see them.

They didn't need the theatrics of the stage version. What I mean to say is they didn't need the double cartwheels because they were not necessary. Instead we got the over the top music, wonderful acting, dialogue that made sense, and a version of the characters that make sense within the world of the film. While I know a lot of people wanted the double cartwheel (myself included), it felt fine the way it was. If you want to watch a version of this with the double cartwheel, I highly suggest watching this video. It’s a dress rehearsal from the 1994 West End production with Jason Parmenter & Vikki Coote.

Overall, I love this version of the song and scene. It fits the characters of Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer while also continuing Victoria’s journey through the Jellicle tribe. This is also one of the few songs where there aren't any interruptions from other cats or mice. The other one being Skimbleshanks (there was one but that’s it). The only ‘interruptions’ are dialogue between Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer which never break the song. It doesn't take away from the flow of the song like in Rum Tum Tugger where the interruption disrupts the scene and performance. Here, it was done in a way that was smart.

I would definitely suggest this to others who want to know some of the good parts of this film. It is definitely up there with one of the best sequences of the film. Right along with Skimbleshanks the Railway Cat and the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.

#long post #might redo this so it has a read more bar #cats 2019 #mungojerrie #rumpleteazer #Mungojerrie And Rumpleteazer #scene analysis #music analysis #rum tum tugger #skimbleshanks #cats 1994 #naoimh morgan #danny collins #jason parmenter #vikki coote

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drunklander · 5 years ago

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Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 507

OK QUICK QUESTION, OUTLANDER WRITERS, IF YOU’VE STILL BEEN CAPABLE OF MAKING EPISODES THIS GOOD THEN HOW THE FUCK DO YOU JUSTIFY MAKING *GESTURES AT THE LAST FEW SEASONS* ALL THAT SHIT?!

This is literally the first episode of Outlander in fucking *years* that I have liked and actually meant it. Like, I *wanted* to watch it again. I cannot remember the last time I’ve wanted to rewatch an episode rather than it feeling like “fandom homework.”

Their track record over the last few years has me worried this was a fluke. And they just accidentally did a good job, and we’ll be back to mediocrity next week. But...y’all. What if the show actually gets good again? You know, that thing we’ve been hoping would happen for 84 fucking years...

*attempts to keep expectations in check while simultaneously being excited to actually have positive feelings toward the show again*

(Now can we have a Claire-centric episode that isn’t about rape and/or the usual ye olde times violence against women?)

Nudity AND sexual content warnings at the start? It’s a quarantine miracle!

Am I the only one who isn’t so much a fan of the voiceovers?

Opening with Roger singing, and the title, made me rull skeptical of how much I’d like this episode. Glad he was just the B plot.

*mentally prepares for next week, because ugh, fuck that guy*

At least we won’t have singalongs anymore? *runs away*

The shots of the camp and stuff reminded me again how glad I am that this season feels much less claustrophobic overall than last year.

JAMIE IS HAVING A SUPER SOFT BIRTHDAY PARTY!

LOOKIT THESE SOFT AF FRASERS!

MY BABIES ARE SO ADORABLE AND CUDDLY AND KISSY AND SNUGGLY AND MAKING DICK JOKES!

Move over Marilyn. I have a new favorite version of Happy Birthday.

Now quick, sing it a second time. I need a very sexy hand washing timer.

Ok but two of the English soldiers have the same last names as two people I work with but don’t particularly like. Eeeep.

99 yellow cockades on the wall, 99 yellow cockades. Take one down pass it around, 99 yellow cockades on the wall!

Update, I’m still not interested in the Browns or Isiah. But I guess if they’re gonna do what they’re probs gonna do next year, they have to make the Browns’ beef with Jamie a bigger thing than one episode... Le sigh.

Omfg the scene with the Findlay boys. They’re so young! Jamie’s giving them advice! They’re gonna follow the advice! And it’s gonna be tragic af! Literally perfect choice, tbh.

Tryon is such a condescending douchecanoe. Just going full Javert here.

Why the fuck is Bree in Hillsborough, though? Besides, needing to be conveniently there for Plotty McPlotterson reasons.

The more they say Alamance, the more all I can think of is Salamence. Which is fitting considering what happens to fellow ‘mon Roger MacSeedot at the end of the episode.

A+ choice moving Jamie calling on Dougal to here rather than before the flaming dildo.

Especially given a certain piece of stunt casting...

“My professor said that some people consider this to be the spark of the American Revolution.” *stares in Boston*

“Ye say some people believe this is the spark. Couldn't the spark alight from somewhere else?” “Yes, it could. You know, in Boston. Where you grew up. Your professor in Cambridge can shove it.”

If Harvard wasn’t closed because of the ‘rona, I’d march down there and give that fictional professor from decades ago a piece of my mind.

They’re really putting a lot of faith in a fucking handkerchief. Don’t see how that could go wrong.

“Now go. Be ready for the morrow.” And then all the Regulators sit down around their fires and sing Drink with Me.

Yes, I’m still on the “this season is Les Mis fanfic” train.

Ok but Murtz was ready to die at Culloden for a cause he believed in *with* Jamie and now, after hearing what Roger has to say, he’s ready to die here for a cause he believes in *against* Jamie* AND I AM FULL OF FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

*yes, I know that Jamie’s not 100% into it and definitely isn’t actually on the side of Murtz’s enemy.

“You have farmers, with knives and pitchforks.” *queues up Turning*

How fucking far away was this creek though that it took all fucking night to get there? Now is not the time for a sleepover party, Roger.

PERSONAL SPACE BUBBLE, ROGER, PERSONAL SPACE BUBBLE!

At least he doesn’t fucking kiss her, but you are *such* a dumbass, Roger.

LOL @ DOUGAL 2.0

They do love them some stunt casting on this show, don’t they.

Ok but making Jamie wear a red coat is a great fucking choice. And I know I shit on Heughan a lot, but his face as Jamie puts it on shows literally every emotion and his entire history with the men who wear those coats without saying a word.

Ok but since they cast Graham McTavish as a bit of a joke, does this mean we aren’t going to be subjected to Roger and Buck’s adventures through time? Because omfg I hate that shit so much. I mean, it’d be on brand for the show to make us watch an abusive husband gallivant around as a buddy of one of the leads, but it wouldn’t be a good look.

Buck!Dougal must have one of the previous season’s wigs. Because what is that dead thing on his head, haha.

Ditto what I said about Heughan re: Caitriona’s face when she see’s Jamie in the coat.

I AM STILL TRASH FOR THE SOLDIER THING.

Also, this is a good example of book shit worked in. Not awkwardly shoehorned in like they usually do.

Kinda bummed that Nurse Marsali is out of action, but get why Bree’s there. Whatevs. Can we get more Nurse Marsali soon?

The Browns are super obvious about trying to kill the person they’ve told everyone they want to kill.

Also like fuck the Browns for breaking her magic needle, but Claire, girl, keep a better grip on that shit.

THE MOURNFUL VERSION OF THE JE SUIS PREST/PRESTONPANS MUSIC IS PUNCHING ME IN THE FEELS.

FUCK THE ENGLISH, TBH. THEN AND NOW.

Also, why the fuck didn’t JAMMF ditch the coat as soon as they went into the woods? Not the smartest idea to run around in a bright fucking target, buddy.

OMG IT’S SO PERFECT THAT ONE OF THE FINDLAY’S DID IT. War is awful. War is random. And having a fucking pretty much child following the advice of his commanding officer, thinking he’s protecting his Colonel, be the one to kill Murtz is just the most perfectly tragic choice.

“Dinna be afraid... It doesn’t hurt a bit to die.” *sobs in Voyager*

I love that it’s Jamie’s men, who are ostensibly fighting for the English, are the ones who help him with Murtagh. Because, after all, they’re loyal to their chief and new clan, not the crown.

OMG ALL OF THEIR FACES THOUGH! JAMIE WITH THE GRIEF AND DENIAL AND ANGER AND BARGAINING! CLAIRE WITH THE GRIEF AND ACCEPTANCE! BREE WITH THE GRIEF AND DEPRESSION!

(Maybe not depression with Bree, I was just trying to fit in all five stages of grief.)

I’m obviously super sad to be losing Murtz, but this does feel like a good way to end his arc. With the added bonus of putting Jamie on the path to join the Revolution in a few years.

I’M JUST GONNA MISS THAT CROTCHETY FUCKER SO MUCH, OK! *drinks wine straight from the bottle*

Jamie ripping Tryon a new one is...not smart. But it’s what we all wish we could yell at the fuckwad. So carry on, JAMMF.

He’s being very Beauchamp-esque with this rant.

“I’ve paid my debt... and I’m finished with my obligation to you and to the crown.” Is that how that works though?

“You may have your coat back, sir.” A Mood™

I’m glad Claire kept his little scrap of plaid.

Ngl, I loved the Claire and Murtz relationship more than the Jamie and Murtz one. I am very sad for Claire.

Oh man, they are trickily ending on a high note*. We may have lost Murtz, but at least we’re rid of Roger!

*YMMV, don’t @ me.

But alas, next episode starts the saga of Emo!Roger. You can tell he’s gonna be alive because they show his one hand slipped from the handcuff rope and up at his neck rope.

We’ll deal with that next time. For this week, I’m just so fucking glad I’m still able to love this show and feel actually feelings while watching it.

I’ve missed that. So fucking much.

#*#outlander starz #outlander 5x07 #drunj!der yells about outlander

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barefoot-pianist · 5 years ago

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Les Mis – Sondheim Theatre (New Production) – 28/01/20

** HUGE HUGE SPOILER ALERT! CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED**

**second disclaimer: it is nearly half midnight and I’ve been on the go since 5:30am, please forgive rambling, meta commentary to myself, and bad grammar. I just wanted to get this all out whilst it was still fresh**

General

YES the new staging was 90% a hit. I liked it. It was great to see Les Mis performed in a radically different way, I think, and enough was kept (like, for example, the basic structure of One Day More) that it didn’t feel totally alien and I didn’t miss the turntable all that much?. The opening scene is now on a ship, rather than in a mine. More on specific stagings below.

THE. SET. WAS. BEAUTIFUL. There is literally no other word for it. The original Les Mis set is quite minimalist, I think, whereas this one was lush – heavily centred on the idea of houses, which really gave more of a feel to the Paris streets. They had tenements and posh houses, the barricade was still huge, don’t worry, and they had a staircase which was in the café and the Thenardiers’ inn, etc. The scale really worked as well – like in Who Am I, the courtroom felt enormous as opposed to the little mobile thing they had before.

A preface to this point is that I don’t think I’m the right person to offer a critical commentary on race & the cast of Les Mis, but I think it is worth flagging – will 100% defer to folks with more experience/expertise. There were four black cast members – Éponine, Gavroche, and two of the chorus, which is way more than I’ve ever seen in the West End in this damn show. I’m under no illusions that Les Mis in the UK hasn’t got a bit of a problem with race. It is slowly inching its way better – when the Bishop came out and he was black right at the beginning I had a moment of “finally? Are they finally doing this right?” but the diversity wasn’t quite as much as I’d hoped. Especially as in my head, I’ve developed a huge, very multi-racial dream cast for the show, so…yeah. I’d love to see some of the characters who always get played by white people played by folks of colour – Enjolras, for example, Grantaire, Valjean himself. Or have both Éponine and Cosette be not white? For once? This would be great? Please let me know what you all think?? (this is West-End specific, I know there have been some productions working on this elsewhere).

The general mood seemed a bit darker? More violent? Perhaps that was the updated lights and set, idk, but more fake blood abounded I felt, and yeah – more actual deliberate fight scenes. It worked, ngl, the world feels like it’s gotten to a darker place, and the new Les Mis reflects that in a way, doesn’t gloss over the violence. Again, I think more thinking will let me know what I actually think about this, but we’ll see.

ONTO SPECIFIC CHARACTERS & SCENES!

Valjean

· Jon Robyns – he was brilliant, like, nearly as good as my holy grail (Killian Donnelly). Voice incredibly on-point – I’ve seen some Valjeans with really harsh voices which I don’t think fits the character – his Bring Him Home started so softly and gently and then really soared (until some twat decided to take a FLASH PHOTOGRAPH of him mid-song, whoever it was should have been ASHAMED of themselves).

· He was so sweet with little Cosette! At the end of the curtain call, he and the actress had their own mini bow and then hugged, and he carried her off into the wings.

· He really made more of Valjean’s physicality than other actors I’ve seen – perhaps to do with staging too – but his and Javert’s interactions were much more physical, violent, and in your face than they have been. It wasn’t OTT on his end I don’t think, but you definitely got the sense that he was trying to rein himself in and that the violence was still there? You know? But ofc NEVER towards Cosette or anyone unlike SOME adaptations I could mention (yes I am still bitter about the BBC trashfire, sorry to anyone who liked it but eh, imho, gross).

· At the end, he and the Bishop have a hug in heaven! It was very sweet!

Javert

· This is the second time I’ve seen Bradley Jaden in the role of Javert and I am a blessed human being (really want to take my Dad to see him too) because he has officially ruined every other Javert for me. Like ever. His characterisation feels very book Javert, very stern and uncompromising but more so than other Javerts, idk, it’s just his sheer stage presence as well, and his facial expressions and his general look…I can’t put my finger on it. He’s just phenomenal.

· Stars was on this beautiful Parisian bridge (fake stone balustrade-style complete with four hanging lanterns) that came down from the flies, incredible backdrop, and he just brought the house down again.

· Ngl – they have him actually holding a legit chain during the Confrontation and maybe I’ve read too much ship fic, but it certainly gives a whole new dimension to the line “Msieur le maire, you’ll wear a different chain!” Also especially as the Confrontation was so much more physical as well, they were properly fighting each other instead of just circling.

· He was much more bloodied at the barricade, and there was this moment where he was being taken offstage as a prisoner and he’s on his knees in front of Enjolras, who’s very blonde hair is all you could see from where I was sitting, and they’re both in a spotlight, and the mood just really reminded me of the dynamic in the fic Les Hommes de la Misericorde by Kchan88 (which is great and you should read if you want to).

· After the barricade, they incorporated that heartbreaking idea from the movie – Gavroche is lying dead in the front of the stage and Javert bends down to shut his eyes and crosses himself. There’s then a total reversal of the moment with Enjolras described above, but I’ll get to that in more detail in the Enjolras section.

· In Javert’s Suicide, he did the complete breakdown thing again – which worked as he actually had blood on his face and long hair loose everywhere from the barricade scenes. Back on the pretty bridge, which split in two and he legit FLEW for the drowning scenes, so was thrashing suspended in midair as the lights and backdrop swirled around and behind him. That was something special.

Fantine

· The one, the only, the Carrie Hope! She played a very understated Fantine? Which…I liked more than I thought I would? Like the voice came out at the end of I Dreamed a Dream, Lovely Ladies etc, but she was so…controlled? It perhaps felt odd after seeing her as Éponine and Veronica in Heathers where she let loose a lot more, but her Fantine just felt a little more mature, a little more resigned?

· Her Fantine also gets put through the bloody wringer, jeez – the fight with the factory woman is much more physical (and when I say more physical, I actually think they were properly choreographed?) and with Bamabatois, who is just as grim but less slimy than the last actor I saw play him?

· I’d kind of almost forgotten about her by the time she came out as a ghost at the end, but that bit was lovely, as it always is.

Éponine

· Shan Ako was a scene stealer. Bloody hell she can sing – she put some pretty riffs in On My Own (small, but noticeable if you know the song) and her belting voice was unbelievable.

· With the new set, you really get a feel of the Gorbeau tenement – she’s hanging around up there a bit. Also in Attack on the Rue Plumet, with the set the way it is (a house with a wrought iron balcony and a door, with the gate and fence extending out towards centre stage) you again get a feel for the scene in the book when Éponine basically says to her father and his gang that they’re dogs but she’s a wolf and she’s not afraid of them because she’s standing guarding the door with her arms wide…yeah, it really worked.

· She and Gavroche are either friends or it’s a subtle nod to their siblinghood, as they fist bump right when Gav introduces Éponine.

· On My Own was a tour de force – second standout of the night after Stars, for me.

· Her A Little Fall of Rain was also gorgeous, and she had a real fizz with Marius, which was cute.

· A rather large niggle – Shan Ako is black, and Young Éponine was white. Perhaps there was a last-minute emergency, but surely they could have got a little black actress to play Young Éponine? Idk, it just bothered me.

Cosette & Marius

· Oh my god, Harry Apps as Marius – he Pontmercied around the place, and was so awkward and adorable! In Éponine’s errand, when he tried to go up the stairs, he banged into the set! During his bit in Red and Black he gets up on the staircase and starts full on declaiming, arms wide etc. His scene with Cosette in Heart Full of Love was gorgeous – he chucks a stone at her window, and she comes out, sees him, and disappears and he’s like “oh god I’m doing everything all wrong” and then she comes hurtling out of the front door instead and then stops and they stare at each other and it’s so cute! And then he’s just so self-conscious for the entire scene? And what’s so interesting is in the reprise at the end and the wedding, he’s so much more sure of himself – I really loved all the little nuances like that?

· He’s also really young! He’s the complete unknown they cast off the open auditions for the UK tour, and he is bloody amazing – totally deserved that!

· Lily Kerhoas was very charming as Cosette. I adore the character, but sometimes actresses play her too girly, which drives me a bit nuts, but she managed to pull off young/innocent/naïve/very soprano with a bit of practicality, heart, and edge. And there was a great moment when she and Éponine are both in the garden after, and getting that look in at each other without the gate in the way was really powerful.

· Cosette and Marius had chemistry! It was lovely!

· Empty Chairs – wow. So basically Turning (my underrated fave) was a range of women dressed in black who leave candles dotted all over the stage. Marius sings Empty Chairs surrounded by them, and (you guessed it) the dead Amis come in and all pick one up and Marius does too, and then they blow them out and leave and Marius is left holding the only lit one and blows it out then raises it like a toast and WOW MY FEELINGS WERE NOT PREPARED.

Gavroche

· This kid STOLE THE SHOW. LITERALLY. He was black too (like Éponine) and they had a proper little thing going, it felt like it really drew on the brother-sister Brick canon. He also felt very book-Gavroche, so cheeky and so serious at times.

· They’ve changed his first set of lyrics in Look Down to be those from the movie, which…sure. Worked.

· OKAY – in The Robbery, when Javert is like “everyone about your business/clear this garbage off the street” everyone scatters APART FROM GAV who’s pootling around behind Javert yelling “go on! You heard the man! Go away, even you!” and then when Javert turns to face him, Gav just does this irreverent little salute and saunters offstage and Javert just…lets him?? It was a FANTASTIC moment.

· At the barricade when Gavroche busts Javert’s disguise, he goes right up to him and on “this only goes to show what little people can do” just cheerfully gives Javert a big old middle finger. Which was SO GREAT.

· When Éponine is dying, he spends most of a little fall of rain loitering next to Marius and not really knowing what to do and my heart just BROKE.

· He and Grantaire had a cute bromance going – after Drink With Me, when Grantaire nonverbally tells Enjolras to go fuck off and goes off to the side of the stage, Gavroche just goes over to him and starts hugging his back, and then they have a cuddle on the side of the stage together for Marius’ solo.

· Because no turntable – Gav didn’t die alone on the other side of the barricade, he makes it just back to the top, gets shot with the bright white light (which they kept) and then just falls over into Enjolras’ arms, who then carries him down the barricade and puts him in Grantaire’s arms who just stands there, centre-stage, cradling a dead Gavroche for a few minutes before lying him down at the front of the stage.

· At the end, Gavroche gets dumped unceremoniously into the cart with dead Enjolras and idk, it’s just a moment.

Enjolras

· Right – instant disclaimer that I am incredibly biased and Hyoie O’Grady is and will forever be my Enjolras and I measure everyone against his performance.

· This guy, Ashley Gilmour, – mostly had the look and the hair and general icy beauty. I was initially disappointed with his voice, but he did grow on me – he just really didn’t have the presence I associate with a great Enjolras. This was especially evident in the speech bits like in Red and Black?. Like, you know they’re not right for the role when you don’t particularly have much to write home about. Maybe I’m being unfair – other people who’ve seen him – what do you think?

· The one bit of changed staging I didn’t like was Do You Hear the People Sing. I think Enjolras being towed around on the cart (which did come back during the beginning of the barricade) gives the song the momentum it needs & deserves? Whereas they were just marching round a staircase they’d shoved in the middle of the stage which Feuilly got up on for his verse, so…

· Aside from a few handclasps, there was basically no E/R. Not even a hug during Drink With Me. It wasn’t even like “no homo” bullshit whatever, it just…didn’t happen. Actors didn’t have chemistry, and it’s a fair reading – this Enjolras read ace/too busy for romance quite strongly, I guess, and also very young, but yeah. After the joy that was Sam Edwards, even a bit more chemistry with Hyoie O’Grady (even though he said he didn’t really like that reading (I think??) which totally fair), and some actors I believe ACTUALLY KISSING OMG in other productions (one Enjolras also wore a Pride sash instead of a revolutionary one in Brazil, I think???) it really wasn’t anything. I would love a cast with an outwardly gay & together E/R, but I think the West End has a while to go before that becomes reality.

· Enjolras’ death: obviously no turntable, end of that iconic spin to reveal him draped across the front of the barricade with his flag. In this version, he basically yeets himself off the front of the barricade very dramatically (there is no other word for it, I promise I’m not using “yeet” gratuitously) and then when Javert comes back after the fall of the barricade, there’s a soldier with the cart from the building of the barricade with a very dead Enjolras on his flag, arms akimbo out the end. Which worked. It was more quiet and understated, but it worked. No complaints from me.

· At the curtain call he gave us a little hand heart, Taylor-Swift-circa-2010 style. It was cute and I should probably stop being a cow.

Les Amis

· They’ll never cast them as diverse as they are in my head (I can only hope one day, perhaps, PLEASE!) but they were a good bunch. Their Feuilly looked more like a Jehan to me, but eh. Again, just no real…buzz. Not in the way I’ve seen them performed before? And I think Les Amis depends on a good Enjolras and a good Grantaire, because as the two main Amis in the musical, they set the tone?

· When the soldiers’ final announcements were happening during the Dawn of Anguish, one of the boys (idk which, they were basically all blonde) was having a very obvious panic attack on the floor by the tables, and one of the others was comforting him and it was like that horrible powerful scene in the 2012 movie and I didn’t like it because it was heartbreaking but it was very effective.

· They all seemed a bit less tolerant of Grantaire, who wasn’t even that disruptive by other actors standards, which I didn’t like?

· Grantaire was, again, eh? Funny, fine, but didn’t have interesting things going for him (like Adam Filipe’s pacifism, for example, or any kind of chemistry with Enjolras) in the way others have done, but it was a solid performance.

The Thenardiers

· Yes, they were great! Master of the House built to Thenardier being given the birthday bumps, which was funny.

· Madame Thenardier’s solo in Master of the House was delivered in the kitchen all by herself as a bitter monologue, rather than the drunken rowdiness you used to get in the old show.

· They were a pretty typical funny Thenardier couple, and I’m getting tired, I might remember some more about them tomorrow.

So yeah. Those are my thoughts. Would love to hear what other people think, and I definitely want to go back and see it again, perhaps with a different cast (a different Enjolras, argh). I’m off to bed, I have class in ten hours. Oops.

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purplesurveys · 4 years ago

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1034

survey by tater-tots What is a fruit that you might eat in the morning? Hahahaha. That’s a pass for me; I can’t imagine regularly eating fruit at any set time of the day.

Do you enjoy any food combinations that others might consider to be weird? I like to eat fish with mayonnaise, which was always normal in our household but I realized was weird when I first saw the horrified expressions on my friends’ faces when they saw me use the combination. I like mayonnaise with a lot of other foods as well, which a lot of people generally find weird.

What is a green vegetable that you enjoy eating? Broccoli and asparagus.

Name something you might find in a salad. In my salad, you’ll always find tuna sashimi in it heh.

What is your favorite type of sandwich? Anything that’s like an Eggs Benedict or Monte Cristo.

Which condiment do you use the most often? Mayo, for sure. Banana ketchup too. I also like sriracha sauce but my dad hasn’t been buying a new bottle of it for a while.

Name a chocolate bar that you enjoy eating. It’s called Whittaker’s - just not sure what country it hails from; maybe Australia? - and I like their peanut butter variant. Google also told me it’s a New Zealander brand.

What is a meat that you do not eat - ever. Dog or cat.

Are you lactose intolerant, or have any other sort of food allergies? I’m mildly lactose intolerant but I ignore it because a lot of my favorite foods use dairy. Other than that, no food allergies.

What was the last food that you burnt your mouth on? Just plain rice, haha. I had been extremely hungry and I just wanted to dig in; but I ended up spitting it back out.

Which brand of soup do you eat? I don’t regularly have soup, much less buy canned brands of it.

What are some flavors of ice cream that your enjoy? Cookies and cream, mint chocolate, coffee, chocolate chip cookie dough, queso real.

What is the best type of cookie, in your opinion? I like keeping things classic when it comes to cookies, and I’ve always been perfectly happy with chocolate chip cookies :)

Would you rather have popcorn, pretzels, or chips as your salty snack? Chips. I dislike the other two as I only like the softer, doughy version of pretzels.

Have you thought about going on a diet & actually went through with it? No.

survey by pinkchocolate

When you woke up today, was there anything on your mind? Kinda. I felt sad and I was aware of it instantly, compared to most days where the sadness will take a while to build.

Who was the last person you interacted with for the first time? Literally speaking, maybe the barista at Starbucks who took my temperature at the entrance before I was let in the store. I interacted with her yesterday.

What colour was the wrapper of the last snack you ate? White. It’s more of a tiny bag than a wrapper, though.

Do you have a favourite mug to drink from? What does it look like? Yeah, I’ve since claimed my mom’s mug for myself. It’s a copper mug with the Starbucks label on it. It looks super minimalist which I appreciate.

What was the last thing you used, that came in a spray can? It was a Lysol spray.

What colour is your favourite bra? Don’t really have one.

Who was the last person you went to for advice about something? I think it was Andi. I’ve been going to them a lot for help, advice, extra sanity, etc. lately. If it hasn’t been for them I probably would’ve left a few months back.

Have you had a deep conversation with anyone lately? Yes. I finally met up with Gab yesterday to discuss a lot things, iron some stuff out, figure out where to go from here.

What was the last compliment you recall receiving from someone? I’m not sure, I haven’t been receiving any.

And the last compliment you gave to someone else? It was most likely a compliment for Andi on how helpful they’ve been to me.

What kind of bread did you eat most recently? Flatbread.

What was the last sound you heard, that you found pleasant? We were watching a mass livestream earlier and I was delighted when they played the closing song.

How many books do you think there are in your house? Take a rough guess. I would guess around 60, the overwhelming bulk of them mine.

Of all the books you own, which do you think has the most pages in it? It would definitely either be Gone with the Wind or Les Miserables, but I’m not sure which one is thicker.

^ And how many pages is that? I checked both of my copies and they’re soooo close – GWTW has 1,440 pages while Les Mis has 1,463.

What was the last film you saw at the cinema? What did you think of it? Knives Out. I went to the mall yesterday and the cinemas were still closed, so it’s not like I’d be able to watch new movies at theatres anyway. Anyway, I’ve been vocal about the movie enough times on my surveys but I didn’t enjoy it. Whodunnits were never my cup of tea, but Gab had wanted to see it and I didn’t want to make her watch the film alone.

In the last book you read, what was the main character's name? Haven’t been reading.

What was the last song you heard, that meant something to you? Lose by Niki.

How many people do you know whose name begins with Z? I can only recall one such person at the moment; it’s one of my mom’s aunts who also doubled as a principal sponsor for my mom and dad’s wedding.

What do you expect to be doing at this time tomorrow? Maybe doing my embroidery (my package finally arrived!!) or surveys or watching Start-Up, because tomorrow will be a holiday :)

survey by luckforlemmy

Did you start listening to more Michael Jackson after his death? I can remember that there was definitely a brief period after his death that I caught up with his discography and listened to MJ nearly everyday; I read up on him and his life as well. 11 year old me figured he must’ve been an interesting figure because of the big reception around his death, so I wanted to know the reasons behind it.

When was the last time that you played hide and seek? I can vividly remember the day when Nina and I played hide and seek when the house was newly-built and still devoid of furniture, back in maybe ‘07 or ‘08. I’m fairly certain that was the last time I played hide and seek.

Who was your first celebrity crush, if you can remember? It was a tie between Ashley Tisdale and Zac Efron, though the older I get the more I’ve been convinced that I ‘crushed’ on Zac only because I was surrounded by girls who went crazy over him in school. I’m pretty sure my first real celebrity crush was Ashley, hahaha.

Do you worry about money? Yeah, especially now. I can’t even enjoy my first paycheck because most of it’s gonna go to Christmas presents, but oh well; at least I can finally buy gifts for my loved ones who’ve always gotten me presents.

Have you ever had to beg for a second chance? Kind of, when I was trying to convince Gab to let our relationship have another shot four years ago. Beg is a strong word for what I actually did, though. It was more of me pitching the idea, not begging.

When was the last time that you sent an actual letter through the mail? I don’t think I even ever did that, not even when I was younger and snail mail was still kind of a thing.

Are you excited to return to school? There’s nothing to return to anymore. Unless I decided to take up a post-grad course in the future, I’m done with school.

Do you hate Internet abbreviations? It can just feel a bit jarring when they’re used excessively in a single sentence, but I honestly don’t mind it for the most part. It’s understandable especially now that most, if not all, of my interactions whether personal or for work happen online.

What was the last insult you gave out? I was never really the roasting type of person, not even towards my friends.

What'd you last look up on YouTube? Hahaha I looked up ‘skynwallz.’ I was looking for the episode of Rhett and Link’s vlogs where they painted the rooms of their offices in the color of their entire person – hair, eyes, and skin. They were joking about starting a new business for it called Skynwallz, so that’s what I looked up.

Are you texting someone really awesome right now? No, I prefer to be alone today.

Do you know when to be serious and when you shouldn't be? Er sure, it’s not that hard.

Do you think that you're funny? I like my sense of humor, yeah, but I know it’s not always going to translate to everybody’s tastes. For example, I’m still figuring out the dynamic in the team I was put in at work, so I can’t make the same jokes that I would normally say with my co-interns with whom I have a more comfortable relationship.

Have you ever sent a secret to Post Secret? I don’t know what this is, so no.

What movie do you really want to see in theatres right now? They aren’t showing anything at the moment. A movie I want to see badly, though, is Ammonite.

Have either of your parents shown affection for you today? My mom made breakfast for us, if it counts. She also gives each of her kids a kiss during the peace-giving portion at mass, so there’s that as well.

What's the last thing that you sang out loud? I watched Start Up before this survey and was humming to the song that was being played at the end of the episode. I couldn’t sing along to it because it was in Korean, but I knew the melody so I hummed.

Is there a word that you always misspell? Rhythm is one of my worst enemies for sure. I also have a love-hate relationship with accommodate.

What was the last thing that you bought that someone else benefited from? I met up with Gabie yesterday and bought her her favorite meal from Yabu to break the ice – menchi katsu with brown rice. I originally got mozzarella sticks for myself but when we got to talking, she mentioned her sisters at one point; I remembered how much I miss them, so I gave up my food and told her to just give my food to her sisters since I hadn’t touched it yet anyway.

Has someone ever made you a really great mix CD? Andi gave me one before she made the flight to New Zealand 10 years ago to permanently live there. I believe I still have it, but I’m just not sure where it currently is.

Have you ever been on Omegle.com? Yes, when I was a teenager and it was new.

Did you talk to someone cool there? Not really; most seem to exit our chat after we did the whole asl thing. I also avoided the webcam option because my anxiety for video calls has always been present.

What song reminds you of your best friend? Any song by The Maine.

Who was the last person to hit on you? Some creep on Facebook.

What's on the paper nearest you? It’s the guide for my embroidery kit. It tells me what stitches to do and the colors of thread to use for the different parts of the template I was provided with.

Do you have a set of lyrics that you really love? From Paramore’s Pool: “As if the first cut wasn’t deep enough, I dove in again ‘cause I’m not into giving up Could’ve gotten the same rush from any lover’s touch, But why get used to something new When no one breaks my heart like you” I scream those lyrics every time they come on. I know I often showed the good, shiny side of my relationship on these surveys; but it was very much toxic at a lot of points and those lyrics - and that song - served as a nest for me, something that told me someone understands how I sometimes felt about my own relationship.

Did you get an A in your last English class? I got a 1.25 instead of a perfect 1.00, but I think that’s still equivalent to an A so yes.

What did you last use scissors for? Cutting thread.

Did you ever secretly hate a friend of yours that thought you liked them? That makes me sound shitty lol, but yeah I’ve acted nicely to people I don’t particularly like.

What do you think of when I say "boat"? That episode of Friends where Joey bought himself a boat at an auction; and Canadian accents.

Would you ever get a tattoo sleeve? Nope. I planned on getting one as a teenager, but I grew out of that phase.

Do you know any really fake people? Yep. I think everyone’s got to be at some point.

What does the last blanket you used look like? It’s pink and has multi-colored polka dots on it.

Do you have appreciation for graffiti? Sure, especially if it’s for political purposes (that I agree with).

Why don't you drive? I do. I just have done it a lot less because I have had little need for driving and traveling to places throughout the pandemic.

Does it annoy you when your printer runs out of ink? I think we have the kind of printer that never runs out of ink, but I’m not exactly sure about the terminologies or how the technology works. I let my sister do the printing hahaha.

Have you ever drank anything from a thermos? Yes, mostly water and coffee.

When was the last time you played in the snow? Never.

Do you know any ignorant people? Sure, mostly Gen X-ers and Boomers.

What is the coolest name you've ever heard? Thylane.

What did you last argue with someone about? Relationship stuff. It wasn’t a full-blown argument, but when Gab and I talked yesterday it was natural for us to disagree on a few points.

Is there anyone that you dislike for no real reason? Hmm, I don’t think so. If I feel that strongly about someone, I usually have a reason otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to them.

Have you had a good day? It was okay; it was nice. I got to do my embroidery hoop art thing, got to watch a couple episodes of Start Up, played with Cooper, and now I’m doing these surveys and am planning to continue my embroidery later. It’s nice to feel productive about non-work things :)

Are you going to have a good night? I hope.

#survey #surveys #multiple surveys – chop em up if you wish

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