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pocket-lad · 9 months ago

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CH 10- Lost in the Chaos

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“They’d have to go through both Sarah and Kelly to get - to get to you,” Ian explained as if Adelaide didn’t already know that. He was trying to convince her to go lie down and get some sleep in the tent with Sarah and Kelly. It was an unspoken agreement among everyone that the women got the privacy of the tent while the men slept outside.

“I’m just not tired,” Adelaide yawned.

“Regardless, you should uh, get some sleep.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Della.”

Ian wasn’t going to pull anything else. He passed her off to Alan, to Nick. He wasn’t going to do that to her again, what with their trust already being stretched so thin. Even though he desperately wanted her to sleep in the safety of the tent.

“I’ll let you know if I get tired, and then maybe I’ll join them,” Adelaide conceded. That was as good as it was going to get, and Ian knew that. “And why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’m not tired,” Ian said. They both knew it was a weak excuse since Adelaide literally just used it, but really, they were exhausted.

They joined up with the few other people who were awake. Adelaide regarded the big group of sleeping people. They all looked so peaceful when they slept, but she knew better than anyone how quickly their demeanor could change.

“Did you find him?” Ian asked Roland. They sat together on a log with Ajay, who Adelaide learned the name of five seconds ago. Apparently he was Roland’s friend. She didn’t know it was possible for him to have such a thing.

“Just the parts they didn’t like,” Roland said. He shot Adelaide a look that said, try me, so she did, mostly prompted by morbid curiosity.

“What did it?”

“Compys, I believe. Dinosaurs not much bigger than you, actually.” A ghost of a smile flashed across his face, but it disappeared so quickly that Adelaide thought she must have imagined it. She straightened a little and smiled too. There was something fitting, poetic even, about Dieter Stark, a man who tormented her because of her size, dying at the hands of some of the smallest dinosaurs.

Roland pulled out a map and continued, explaining where they were going and what route they were taking. “We’ll let them sleep one more hour. Then we’ll hit it.”

Adelaide’s eyes grew heavier and heavier, and once the prying eyes of Roland and Ajay disappeared, she relaxed even more, her body threatening to succumb to sleep. But she had to stay awake.

Ian rolled his shoulder forward to let Adelaide slide off into his hands. She barely even protested, too comfortable to put up a fight. That’s when Ian knew it was over. “You are quite literally falling asleep in my, uh, in my palm… as we speak. Go to bed.”

“I can’t,” Adelaide mumbled.

“And why not?”

“Because they’ll take me.”

Ian wasn’t sure her thoughts were coherent and considered dropping her in his chest pocket to let her rest there, but curiosity had him prompting her further. “Who?”

“Hm?” Adelaide asked, already forgetting what she was talking about.

“Who will take you?”

“Oh…um, anyone?” She forced herself to sit up and rubbed her eyes. “I don’t like letting my guard down that much, even with you, no offense.”

“None taken.”

Adelaide yawned. “Are you sure Beans don’t eat us? He looked like he wanted to eat me.”

“I think he always looks like that.”

“Hmm…Being unconscious around strangers isn’t…And besides, I’m awake now. I’m sitting up.” Adelaide closed her eyes again and her head bobbed.

“Hey, you’re gonna fall asleep anyway, so you might as well do it somewhere safe.”

“I’m safe with you,” she whispered, curling back up in a ball. A couple minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Curled up like that, Adelaide looked so tiny, and to know she felt safe with him made Ian’s heart grow approximately three sizes. He lifted her up close to his eyes, trying to see if she had officially fallen asleep.

Adelaide slowly peeled her eyes open and found herself staring directly into Ian’s. “I’ll take the tent,” she said, defeated. If anything, it was to get herself on solid ground for maybe the third time since they’d arrived. Her eyes closed again and she fell right asleep.

Ian wordlessly made his way over to the tent, pushing the flap open. Sarah stirred, and when she noticed that there was someone inside, she bolted up.

“It’s just me,” Ian assured her.

“Oh,” she said, eyes barely open and hair messy. “What’s going on?”

“Mind if Adelaide stays with you for the night?” He neglected to mention that they’d probably take off in an hour anyway.

“Uh, sure.”

Ian crouched down and reached across the tent to lay Adelaide in the back. There was a small empty space up by Kelly’s head that would give her enough room to sprawl out and roll around. She was fast asleep and remained so even as she slid off Ian’s hand onto the hard ground.

“Get some rest,” he said to Sarah, who nodded sleepily. Ian took one last look at everyone before he left.

It was that moment that Adelaide came back to the world. She felt the hard ground beneath her body and registered movement, so she blinked her eyes open.

An unfamiliar, dark world stretched out before her, and she felt the presence of two giants, none of which were Ian. She shot upright and pulled out her knife.

Sarah saw this and slowly reached for the borrower, trying to let her know she was safe, but before she could say anything, Adelaide swung at her with the knife.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s me. It’s Sarah.”

“Where’s Ian?” Adelaide said forcefully and at full volume. Though it was quieter than a normal human, she sounded just as loud, if not louder, against the silent backdrop of the night.

“He just left. He’s around here somewhere though,” Sarah whispered. She glanced at Kelly, hoping Adelaide’s outburst didn’t wake her. Kelly was still dead to the world. “I can-” she yawned, “- I can go get him if you’d like.”

The memories came rushing back to Adelaide. She remembered something along the lines of agreeing to sleep in here, but she wasn’t happy about it. “No, no, that’s okay. Sorry. I didn’t know where I was.” She rubbed her eyes and tucked her knife back into her belt. She didn’t like how close Sarah was and how she towered over her, even resting on her elbows, but Adelaide was semi-confident she wouldn’t need her knife.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sarah said as she laid back down.

Adelaide tried to do the same, but the ground was littered with wrappers and crumbs, and the soft light emanating from the lamp was too bright for her small eyes that were accustomed to the dark. She rolled around for what felt like forever and eventually gave up. There was no way her body was going to let her sleep around two giants.

“Sarah?” she tried.

“Mm?” Sarah responded. She sounded like she’d also been (unsuccessfully) trying to fall asleep.

“Thanks.” Adelaide couldn’t let Sarah’s efforts back after they escaped the trailer go unrecognized. At the very least, Adelaide owed her a thank you. And so that’s what she did.

“What for?”

“For saving me, I guess. Trying to keep me hidden.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep you from that guy.”

Adelaide chuckled, then looked for a way to change the subject. “That wasn’t your fault. You did the best you could… Can I have some of this candy?” There was a half-eaten candy bar sitting not too far to Adelaide’s right, and it didn’t look like anyone was going to finish it anytime soon. Seeing it in front of her made her realize how starving she was, especially since she wasted the peanut she packed by throwing it at a spider. It did feel weird to ask for food, though. Normally she just took it.

“Oh, sure,” Sarah said. “You don’t have to ask. It’s not like you eat much anyway…right?” Adelaide was tiny, so Sarah assumed she couldn’t eat a ton of food, but she wanted confirmation. On all accounts, Adelaide appeared human. But was she? If not, then Sarah couldn't assume anything.

“Right…” Adelaide trailed off. She dug into the candy bar, breaking off small chunks with only a bit of extra effort. It was some kind of chocolate, probably. Whatever it was, it was good. It stained her fingers and left behind a sticky residue, but that was at the very bottom of Adelaide's list of things to be worried about.

After a long stretch of silence, Sarah rolled over onto her stomach and rested her head in her arms. “Can I ask you something?”

Adelaide jumped, and when she looked up, Sarah was a lot closer than she’d been before. She took a couple steps back on instinct, eyeing the opening of the tent which felt like a million miles away and was blocked by the two giants. She swallowed. “Uh, yeah, but I don’t know anything about why I exist when I shouldn’t, or how my brain works, or how my body functions at such a small size, or anything like that.” Adelaide recalled the questions Alan had for her way back when and how she wasn’t able to answer any of them. She didn’t know how she existed. She just did it.

Sarah started to ask something, but another thought popped in Adelaide’s head that she had to voice. “Oh, and I don’t really want to talk about Jurassic Park. The first one, I mean. It’s still kind of overwhelming…If you don’t mind.” Her voice got quieter as she went on, and by the end, it was barely a whisper.

“Why did you feel like you couldn’t introduce yourself? I assume you kind of know me if you live in the walls. Am I really that bad?” Sarah asked.

Adelaide realized what Sarah was implying and grew nervous. She fidgeted with her hands while she stood awkwardly in place. “I don’t eavesdrop,” she quickly clarified, “if that’s what you mean. At least, I try not to. Beans are kinda loud.”

Sarah saw how twitchy Adelaide got. She must have missed Sarah's attempt at a joke. “No, I’m not mad! Just curious.”

Sarah’s soft smile helped Adelaide relax a little. Beans got touchy when it came to privacy, so she felt like she had to tread carefully. But Sarah was Sarah. She was the same Sarah whether Adelaide was watching her from a distance or talking directly to her. And the Sarah she knew was friendly and cool.

“I don’t think you were around when I was telling Nick earlier, but um…I was kidnapped. Like a long time ago. And then Ian caught me and that was a whole thing, but anyway, I was raised to mistrust Humans. And the kidnapping kind of confirmed those beliefs, so I just need to be wary. I can’t really control what you do, and I never know for sure how people will react. Better safe than sorry, I guess.”

“You told Nick before you told me?!” Sarah teased her.

Adelaide was quick to defend herself. “Hey! He was my only option! I was looking for you but you were nowhere to be found.”

“Aw, I’m flattered.”

Then the ground shook. It was a feeling Adelaide was growing quite familiar with, and it wasn’t a welcome one. Her tone shifted to dead serious. “Is that…”

Sarah glanced up at her jacket covered in the baby T-Rex’s blood. That was what they were smelling, which meant two Tyrannosaurs would soon be approaching.

“Adelaide, we’re gonna stay completely still, okay? Come here.” Sarah’s voice shook as she shoved all the remaining food and wrappers into a plastic bag and tucked it under their blankets. She turned the light off and pulled a blanket over her head just as the shadow of a massive dinosaur appeared alongside their tent.

Adelaide ducked as Sarah's hand snatched up all the Adelaide-sized things around her. It was so easy to forget that Beans could move that fast. Something that big physically shouldn't be able to do that. But when Beans were in a rush - oh boy, did they know how to move, and all a borrower could do was try to get out of the way. Registering Sarah's words, Adelaide came a couple paces closer but couldn’t bring herself to close the distance. Whether it was fear of Sarah or fear of the T-Rex, she wasn’t sure, but she was rooted in place.

She could hear it before she saw it. The huffing of a giant animal. One that was smelling its surroundings, one that was hunting. Then it was visible.

The first thing Adelaide saw was one of its horrible yellow eyes. Then its snout peaked in between the tent flaps, its large, pointed teeth protruding over its curled lips. It sniffed at the jacket. Then it sniffed at Sarah.

The breeze coming from the animal was so strong that it knocked Adelaide to the ground. She had to hold her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming and her body quaked with fear, but beyond that, she didn’t dare move. She looked at Sarah for guidance, but Sarah was just as scared.

Kelly stirred, and Adelaide prayed she wouldn’t fully wake up, but luck was never quite on their side. Kelly obviously felt the dinosaur’s massive presence, and turned to look at what it could possibly be. When she saw what it was, she screamed, but Sarah was quick to cover her mouth. Tears streamed down the girl's face. She instinctively held still and kept her crying quiet, and Adelaide had to commend her for that, though she felt truly awful about it. No child should have to be this brave.

A scream from outside startled them all, including the T-Rex. Startled by the sound, it stood up to its full height, ripping the tent out of the Earth.

Adelaide finally let out the scream she’d been holding in. It would get lost in the chaos anyway. She looked around to see the whole group freaking out - screaming, running in all different directions, trying to get away. All of the rumbling and stomping prevented her from getting to her feet, try as she might. She searched for Ian in the fray, but down on the ground, it was impossible to see very far.

Nick was suddenly at their side, his enormous boots shaking the ground. Adelaide threw her hands over her head protectively, convinced he couldn’t see her in the dark. Whether it was intentional or whether it was luck, Nick didn’t step on her. He helped Kelly to her feet and then Sarah, urging them to move . Apparently he did see Adelaide, since he scooped her up and shoved her into Sarah's hands.

One second, Adelaide was on the ground. The next, she was enclosed in darkness as massive hands obscured her from the world. The next, she was four feet in the air. She struggled to get a sense of her surroundings, and by the time she did, Sarah was running. She gave Adelaide a rushed apology, and though it was scary and uncomfortable, Adelaide knew it was for the best. She tried to take deep breaths to calm herself down but was only half-successful. Muffled sounds of terror reached her ears and it was hard to tell up from down. Her head pounded with each step Sarah took. And yet one prevailing thought occupied her mind: Ian .

Sarah’s hands suddenly opened up and what little light existed around them made its way to Adelaide’s eyes. The landscape passed them by in a blur, though she recognized there were people running alongside them in every direction.

Her time out in the open didn’t last long, though. She was abruptly lifted higher into the air, and then she fell into darkness. It was only about an inch, but the shock disoriented her nonetheless. Fabric clung to her slick skin and she scrambled for purchase.

She recognized this. This was a pocket. Sarah put her in a pocket.

Okay, Adelaide thought. You get ten seconds, and then you get up.

After seven seconds, Adelaide got impatient and pushed in the direction she thought might be ‘up’. Her face found fresh air as she hoisted herself over the edge of the pocket.

There wasn’t much Adelaide could do at this point except watch where they were going and hope they didn’t get eaten by a dinosaur. She desperately tried calling out for Ian, but she doubted even Sarah could hear her over the commotion.

Any mildly tall person in dark clothing could’ve been him, and Adelaide had no way of knowing. She called out until her voice was hoarse, until nothing could come out anymore. The Beans approached a waterfall, and Adelaide squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst.

Though they didn’t end up underwater like she expected, she was suddenly drenched head to toe. When she opened her eyes, they were behind the waterfall in some sort of small cave. Her, Sarah, Nick, Kelly, and some other guy she recognized from earlier.

Adelaide didn’t have time to ponder it though, because the T-Rex was on their tail. It forced its head into their cave as much as it could. There was nowhere for them to run.

But then the dinosaur's head got stuck. It was very, very close, but just far enough away that it couldn’t eat them. Still, it's hot breath filled the small space and its long tongue searched for anything it could grab.

Adelaide thought she was scared of being anywhere near a Human Bean’s mouth. That was nothing compared to this. She ducked back down in the pocket, hoping it would provide some form of protection, and she felt a very strong pressure just off to her right. She could hear the slimy tongue tasting Sarah’s clothes, which made her gag.

Then, the pressure disappeared. Adelaide gave it a second before she stood up, but when she did, the dinosaur was still there. She wasn’t sure how they were going to get out of this one. At this point, it was a waiting game.

A streak of color caught Adelaide’s eye, and she turned toward it. It was a snake. Beautiful and graceful, much like the spider, but incredibly deadly. It slithered down the cave wall, headed straight for the unknown man.

“Look out!” Adelaide cried, and the man turned in her direction.

He stared at her with wide eyes, realizing for the first time that a three inch tall person was hanging out in a woman’s pocket. Then her words registered, and he looked to where she was pointing.

At this point though, the snake had wormed its way into the man’s clothes. He freaked out, batting at it and trying to get it out. In his panic, he backed away from the wall of the cave, despite everyone yelling at him not to.

Adelaide saw it before it happened, and it wasn’t pretty. The man backed right into the jaws of the T-Rex. It grabbed him by the arm, dragged him outside above their eyesight, there was a loud, agonizing scream, and then the waterfall that served as their door ran red with blood.

It all happened so fast. Sarah and Kelly were crying. Nick looked like he wanted to throw up. Adelaide could only think about Eddie. And Muldoon. And Gennaro. And John Fucking Hammond.

So many lives were lost because of this idiotic man’s idiotic dream. And where was he? Back in his luxurious mansion, probably sipping on tea, while they were here fearing for their lives. A classic example of the arrogance of Human Beans. They thought they could control everything, own everything, but they were wrong. And now they were paying the price for it, dragging a whole hoard of innocent people down with them.

A single tear slipped down Adelaide’s cheek. She wanted Ian. She wanted to go home.

“Where is he?” she croaked, defeated. It wasn’t directed toward anybody in particular - maybe the whole cave? She didn’t know. But Ian hadn’t returned yet and Adelaide was starting to fear the worst.

Sarah glanced down. “He’s coming,” she assured Adelaide. Nobody had any way of knowing if that was true, but hopefully speaking the words aloud sparked at least a little confidence. It didn’t.

Sarah delicately gathered Adelaide out of the pocket and ran her finger down her wet hair, brushing it away from her forehead. Adelaide twitched away in surprise, but was way too deep in shock to care. She let Sarah continue the repetitive motion. In a way, it calmed both of them down.

“I’m so stupid,” Adelaide said, voice still hoarse. “I shouldn’t have left him. I shouldn’t have left him. I should’ve stayed, should’ve insisted…I can’t…I can’t do this again, Sarah.” She started to hyperventilate, and more tears began to slip down her cheeks.

Every time Ian and Adelaide got separated, something bad happened. She made Ian promise that this exact thing wouldn’t happen. But Adelaide was stupid and gave in to sleep. She’d been awake longer before, she’d handled worse. She should’ve forced herself to stay awake. She should’ve insisted on staying with Ian. Because now she might never see him again.

Adelaide wanted to jump out of the pocket and let the Earth take her. She was so tired, so over it all.

A shadow appeared outside the waterfall again, and everyone in the cave pressed themselves as far back as they could. Sarah held Adelaide against her chest, blocking out her vision, so Adelaide pushed and pushed and pushed at Sarah’s hand. If she was going to die, she at least wanted to see it coming.

“It’s coming back!” Nick yelled.

But what emerged from outside surprised them all. Ian, soaked to the bone and panting, but definitely alive.

“Dad!” Kelly cried, jumping into his arms.

Adelaide let her tense body collapse, relief flooding every ounce of her being. She laughed and she cried so hard she could barely breathe. But that was fine because Ian was alive and she was alive and Kelly and Sarah and Nick were alive.

After Kelly peeled herself off Ian, he looked around. “Where’s Adelaide?” His voice was intense and worried.

“I’m here!” Adelaide called from Sarah’s cupped hands. He probably didn’t hear her, so she pushed at the hand again and Sarah obliged. “I’m right here!” She continued to let the tears fall and just hoped everyone mistook it as mist from the waterfall. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, but she didn’t care.

Ian stepped closer to Sarah and impatiently reached out to retrieve Adelaide himself.

“Hey!” Sarah yelled, also laughing through the tears.

Everything was dark for a moment before Ian opened his hand in front of his face. He gave Adelaide a once over, and after he determined she was okay, he turned toward Sarah and Nick. “Thank you,” he said to both of them, completely earnest. They nodded back. “Let’s get out of here.”

“The dinosaur is gone?” Kelly asked nervously.

“The dinosaur is gone,” Ian said, though he sounded unsure. “Della, it’s gonna get bumpy. Pocket okay?”

Adelaide nodded. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” She didn’t really care, as long as she was with Ian.

She was prepared to get drenched again, even though she never really dried off, but as they passed under the waterfall, Ian held his hand above the pocket. Adelaide still got wet, but significantly less so, and she realized how much she took Ian for granted. He thought about the little things like that.

The small group quickly headed in the direction they remembered the operations building to be. There was a notable absence of people, though nobody wanted to think about what may have happened to them. Eventually, they came upon a field of tall grass.

Adelaide had mixed feelings about tall grass. It provided a great sense of cover, keeping exposure to a minimum. But if it provided cover for her and her friends, it provided cover for other things too, much more dangerous things. However she felt though, she wasn’t in charge. She was just along for the ride, as per usual.

The Beans decided the grass was the way to go. It was the fastest route, after all, and they wanted out of this place now .

Adelaide heard it first. She always heard it first, what with her sensitive ears, but it didn’t take long at all for the Beans to pick up on it. The sound of multiple dinosaurs, and this time, it wasn’t Tyrannosaurs. This time, it was something much deadlier, something that scared Adelaide to her core. This time, it was the sound of Velociraptors. And they were close.

#jurassic park #ian malcolm #g/t #giant/tiny #jurassic park g/t #gt #size difference #sarah harding

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mariacallous · 1 year ago

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Let me just be honest: Patrick Stewart brings out my daddy issues. That keen gaze, alternately steely and compassionate. That warrior-monk profile, disciplined and ascetic. And, of course, the Shakespearean cadences that wash over your mind and soul like a lullaby. For more than three decades, as Star Trek’s Jean-Luc Picard and the X-Men’s Charles Xavier, Stewart has embodied a sort of kind and courtly Master of the Universe, trusted by all to wield awesome power exclusively for good. What more could you want in a father?

Well, perhaps it’s more complicated than that. Stewart, who is 83, has just published his memoir, Making It So. The title, from Picard’s signature command, is a nod to the starship captain’s primacy in his life, and also perhaps a tease, a hint that herein lie the secrets to the creation of that galactic sense of empathy.

The book recounts Stewart’s trajectory from Yorkshire, where he grew up poor and left school at 15, to Hollywood megastardom. It wasn’t an easy one. When a producer working on the planned Star Trek reboot chanced to see him in a Shakespeare reading at UCLA, Stewart, by then aged 46 and with two decades in the Royal Shakespeare Company under his belt, had almost never had a high-profile role on either stage or screen. His first Star Trek audition went badly (unbeknownst to him, the show’s creator, Gene Roddenberry, ordered that Stewart’s name “never, ever be mentioned in my presence again!”). While waiting to hear back, he had such a profound midlife crisis over his modest achievements that he briefly tried to retrain as a professional squash player.

To be honest once more: As a piece of writing, the book is disappointingly guileless. There are moments of introspection and vulnerability, particularly around the impacts of witnessing his father repeatedly beating his mother and the breakdown of Stewart’s first two marriages, but these are brief. There’s a lot of what can only be called fanboying over legendary stars he’s met. Even the people he has clashed with (most notably Roddenberry, who never did take a shine to him) are dealt with gently. Reading it, I was tempted to conclude that Stewart is just Englishly guarded about showing his true feelings, or is even trying to disguise an ambivalence about having become a household name for sci-fi and fantasy instead of for Macbeth, Lear, or Hamlet.

These suspicions started to evaporate the moment I met him in the kitchen of his house in Los Angeles. The guilelessness is genuine: Stewart in person is Picard and Xavier in their kindliest, most compassionate moments. He seems by now truly happy with where life has led him. The house is filled with art and with mementos that give one a sense of a man deeply loved by his friends, including hand-drawn illustrations showing him and soulmate Ian McKellen as bowler-hatted Vladimir and Estragon in Waiting for Godot.

Stewart is also keenly aware of how few good years he has left. During our conversation, he apologized more than once for his “croaky” and “gravelly” voice (“So long as it doesn’t give offense”) and tendency to ramble (“Sometimes I lose my place”), and he swung between wanting to explore new roles and take Picard for one last spin.

By the time we finished speaking, I had come to understand three things. One, that Stewart’s very un-Hollywood lack of a mean streak is nonetheless hard-won, the result of a long, painful process of forgiving both himself and his father—in other words, of dealing with his own daddy issues. Two, that this struggle is all there in the book; he just doesn’t (and this is perhaps the self-effacing Englishness) make a big deal of it. And three, that as someone with no small amount of forgiving still to do myself, this was what I had unconsciously been looking to learn from him all along.

Gideon Lichfield: You’ve been with Picard for 36 years—10 seasons of television and four movies. You and he have coevolved psychologically. How has that evolution been?

Patrick Stewart: It has been a long journey in which he and I were, to begin with, very much apart. He was an object, and it’s one of the reasons why season 1 of The Next Generation is not one of the best. I think the rest of the principal cast tuned in to what we were doing so much quicker than I did.

What was blocking you?

My life before that had been primarily theater. I brought way too much of my theater technique, my stage technique, into that first season.

We think of Picard as caring, compassionate, disciplined; the fate of the galaxy is safe in his hands. But when I started rewatching The Next Generation, and then watching Star Trek: Picard for the first time, I realized that actually, he’s emotionally conflicted. He has repressed rage. He’s a rule-breaker. Were those aspects of him that you were conscious of early on, or that only came out much later?

They came out later, and it just happened to coincide with a time in my life when I was beginning therapy. As you’ve read the book, you would’ve seen there that my childhood was at times difficult. My father was a weekend alcoholic, with a lot of anger and aggression inside him. He was five years in the Second World War, but he’d also been a soldier for 10 years, from the ’20s to the ’30s. He suffered from PTSD, no question of it.

There’s a passage where you say that, from your father, “I drew Picard’s stern, intimidating tendencies. But I like to think that my mother is in the captain too, in his moments of warmth and sensitivity.” Do you see Picard as your way of reconciling that conflict between your parents?

Very much so, yes. Both Star Trek and therapy have been responsible for that. Having to open the doors into my childhood in order to be an actor became utterly intriguing to me in a way that it never had been before. And I regret that when I look back on some of the roles I played, what I might have brought to them if I just released myself a little bit more.

I asked quite a few of my friends, “Do you think Patrick Stewart is straight or gay?” At least half of them said they thought you were gay or bi. I’m gay, and I must admit I thought you were too. In the book you talk about going on a world tour with a company that included a lot of gay actors, and how you felt very comfortable in their presence, which is unusual for somebody growing up in rural Yorkshire in the 1940s and 1950s. What do you think made you so comfortable?

It was a period in the life of the Old Vic Company in London when it had a director and a producer who were gay, and there was a strong emphasis on employing gay actors as well. I adored these people, and when we arrived in Sydney, I moved into a house with three gay men. And their kindness, generosity, humor, and commitment to their work so impressed me that I fell in love with them. I fell in love with the man who married Sunny and me, Ian McKellen. So I take in your assessment of my sexuality with gratitude and a certain amount of pride. Because when finally my 15-month world tour was over, I missed those gay men I’d spent so much time with.

I think the reason people have this impression you’re gay is something about that care and compassion that Picard has—and that Professor Xavier has as well.

But the compassion comes through because there has been something else in both their cases, both Xavier and Picard. And it was knowing that in the role and discovering it in myself that made all the difference. The rage, the fear, the embarrassment. The shame of my childhood experiences. Few people knew. For decades I never talked about it.

The shame of the domestic abuse?

Yes.

It does seem like you found a way to incorporate the best parts of your father into your work.

My only regret is that I can’t tell him that’s what I’m doing. And thank my mother for her care and love and cherishment of me.

When you were first approached about doing the X-Men, you said, “I don’t want to do another sci-fi fantasy thing with funny costumes.” What persuaded you?

Well, the director, Bryan Singer. It’s very sad, borderline tragic, that he’s withdrawn from the job that he did for a while so brilliantly. [Singer has faced multiple allegations of sexually assaulting minors throughout his career, and has a reputation for erratic behavior on set.] I wanted to work with him very much, but I didn’t want it to be in science fiction. He persuaded me that there was no comparison between Charles Xavier and Jean-Luc Picard. All of the similarities I put together years later.

Do you think that Xavier and Picard are different in some ways?

Charles Xavier is physically handicapped. I think it gave him more empathy than Picard had. We’ve seen Picard lose it a couple of times.

In your book you hint that there’s possibly another Picard film in the works.

I mean, it’s not in the works at all. But I have spoken privately and confidentially to people who would be involved if it were to happen. And as I’ve already said publicly, I’m moving on. I don’t know how much time I have left, but I want it to be as diverse as possible.

You write in the book that you feel like you have so many characters in you still waiting. What kinds of characters?

I don’t know how many, and I don’t know who they are until a text stimulates them. There’s one text that keeps getting tossed in my direction, which is King Lear.

I would love to see you in Lear.

But should I do it? I’m not sure that I have the physical stamina. It’s nearly a four-hour play. Ian McKellen [who first played Lear in 2007] told me that the role has a big break, like a 25-minute break, in the middle of the play. Thank you, William Shakespeare! He knew what he was doing. He was an actor himself. He knew what it was like to play endless roles where you’d never leave the stage. And Ian lived in Stratford-upon-Avon, very close to the theater. He would go home in the middle of his interval while the play went on.

Going back to the Star Trek franchise, I can imagine that somebody at Paramount has already hatched plans to do a series about Picard as a young Starfleet officer before he becomes captain …

I see where you’re going.

How does that feel to you? We now have multiple Kirks and McCoys and Spocks. Can you imagine there being another Picard?

It will happen, I’m sure. I mean, I already have a son. And who knows what’s going to happen to him. He could become the next Jean-Luc, and he’s a wonderful actor. But Star Trek: Picard, especially season three, left us in a very unresolved place. I had an idea about how to play the last scene that would have kind of resolved it, but it didn’t work out.

You write in the book that you wanted him to be married or to have a woman in his life. Is that what you would want to see, the final resolution come to the screen?

Well, it would be: Let’s explore further the inside of this man’s head. His fears, his anger, his frustration, his questioning all of those things. There is a moment, I’m not quite sure where it comes in the series … Well, there are two moments. One is when Picard doesn’t know what to do. He’s stumped. And we never saw that in The Next Generation. There is also a moment when he is truly fearful. And those two pointers alone, I think, make him an interesting study for one more movie.

You said that there are questions still to be resolved in his mind. Do you feel like there are questions on what’s going on in your mind?

About Jean-Luc?

About yourself.

About myself? That’s truly a work in progress.

Still?

Oh, yes. It always will be. There are problems in my family life, not here, not with my wife, but with my family in England. And I believe it is my job to internally connect with this and then perhaps more overtly connect with it.

You know, this is one of the kind of shameful things about acting: Immediately, I think, “Oh, yes, I know what I would do with that!” And from being a teenage boy, I could do that. Because, as a teenage boy, it meant I didn’t have to be Patrick Stewart, who I didn’t really like very much. I could pretend to be somebody else, and adults would believe me.

When would you say that you started to like Patrick Stewart?

Well, you see, my mother had suffered and I had been unable to protect her. I did my best, as did my older brother Trevor, five years older than me, who died last year. There he is with me. [He picks up and shows me a photograph sitting on his desk of himself and Trevor as young children.] Sorry—not good to be showing things on an audio recording! What was your question?

When you started to like yourself.

There were moments on stage, I think initially, when I felt, “Oops, was that me? Well, it wasn’t anybody else. It must’ve been you”—when I realized that I had stepped into another life. It meant I trusted myself, and I felt good about myself and confident. But it’s been a long journey.

It sounds like you learned to forgive Patrick Stewart even when you didn’t like him.

I think on the whole I didn’t do too badly. I could have done better, both in my childhood and in my early acting years. But now at 83, I think I’m more interested in my life and who I am than I was at any other point.

Do you have a favorite episode or film in the Star Trek universe?

Yes, “The Inner Light” [season 5, episode 25 of TNG].

That’s my favorite as well.

Really?

Yes. What I remember about it is Picard waking up after living 40 years as someone else and realizing that these were memories implanted into his brain. You can imagine what a profound effect that must have on a person. And I feel like we see that in Picard’s face, even though you don’t say anything. But tell me why it’s your favorite.

Because I become someone other than Jean-Luc Picard over decades of living a different life, and therefore become a different person, a domestic person, not a starship captain. And there is another, personal reason. My son Daniel played my son in “The Inner Light.” That was an extraordinary experience.

I think of “The Inner Light” as being one of two moments when Picard has changed irrevocably. The other is the assimilation by the Borg. He cannot be the same man after those experiences.

That’s absolutely true, and I should always try to remember that at times like this: The assimilation changed him for good. And like extreme and possibly tragic experiences, we can’t, nor should we try to, erase them, forget them. They’re part of us, what we are. We have to learn to accept them.

That’s where I am right now with Jean-Luc, and it actually makes me intrigued. So conversations like this, rather than encouraging me to move away from my history, actually are gradually sucking me in. So I get closer and closer to the possibility. One more shot!

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crazy56u · 1 year ago

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I had to force myself to wake up half an hour ago in order to catch the premiere; it's gonna be a challenge to do this for as long as they have the show scheduled at 8PM, but I'm ride or die, let's go.

Previously on Quantum Leap: The timeline almost got broke in half, and the main characters were unaware that they had gotten renewed (hence why Ben is still leaping).

I love how they included the fight in the Accelerator.

And Ben is in a broom closet. "This can't be happening." Welcome to Season 2, buddy.

"Maybe if I say all the names, I'll be allowed to leave."

"Somewhere over Russia. Fuck you if you want specifics. You're not even getting the full date, that carried over from Season 1."

I love how they are blatantly foreshadowing the Roswell episode that the season trailer teased.

I am half expecting this to turn into that one bit from Uncharted. Do they have the money to have the plane open mid-flight?

"It's a SAM!" Hey, Sam finally shows up in this, nice. (ba-dum-tish)

"I can save the plane!" Ben, that is what we in the business call "Tempting Fate".

Cut to Ben unconscious on the ground, looks like he saved the plane!

I love how this is blatantly the Arizona desert.

"Hey, help me move these giant wheels!" "Maybe physics will save the day."

Okay, he looks less like he's in pain, and more like he's trying to not laugh.

"Addison, this leap fucking sucks, I hope you can hear me say that."

Lady, choose your priorities, that crate is gonna get you killed.

The CGI explosion powerful enough to slow down time. Truly this is 1978.

Maybe kick the radio, that should fix it.

What kind of name is "Grier"?

"Should we say something about the captain?" "...well, uh... up until the plane crashed, he did good..."

Look, Iowa and Idaho are basically the same state, he gets points for trying.

Ah, yes, rob the corpse, that's classy- "His wife should have this." And I feel like a dick.

Meanwhile, in Timeline B.

Let me guess, Addison B is the person who showed up in the Accelerator at the end of last season.

"Look, Ben, trust me, it's for the best that Addison is leaping instead of you, you don't want to be in 1978, pretending Arizona is Russia."

[I only just now realized these are meant to be flashbacks.]

"How are you saying this is a metaphor?" "Well, fuck off, how about that, buddy?"

I will laugh if it turns out that crate secretly contains the Ark of the Covenant, or some shit like that.

"I AM NOT WASHED OUT, IT'S JUST THE COLOR PALETTE THEY CHOSE FOR THESE SCENES IN EDITING!"

"So, we're gonna die 'cause of feminism?" Can he die next, show?

What if it turns out Ben invents MacGuyver?

And this is the third time Ben is openly talking to himself out of stress, he is the most relatable character in the episode.

Plot twist: Ben has to save the crate, everyone else is expendable.

"I thought you were an atheist?" "Honestly, at this point, I might still be, today's still young."

Talking about the importance of memories to a swiss-cheesed man is the most unintentionally rude thing you could do.

"Buddy, did you secretly become a different person in the middle of the plane crash?"

The Russian Pickup Truck of Evil

Luckily, no one looks up, so Ben and friend are hidden.

[Can you tell that, outside of Grier, I don't know anyone else's name?]

And now they have hostages. Ben and friends are winning Russia.

Yep, just casually speak Russian, it's bad enough you forgot you were supposed to be a single-guy atheist, Ben...

At this point, Ben is just agreeing to whatever he wants in order to made the leap end sooner.

[Even if these are flashbacks, you can just tell that a certain person online is fuming over the Project subplots still being in Season 2.]

Hi, Ian, I'm from the future, fuck your math.

Maybe if they spent less time using Ziggy as a dating app and more time trying to fix the thing preventing her from talking out loud, a lot of the problems they had last season could've been avoided.

And the loot crate is bricks. They were set up for fucking failure with this flight, hot fucking damn.

I think they should each take one brick for themselves, as a treat.

I still say Puffy Jacket should die.

"I'm mad at myself for believing. ... ... ...like, in general."

"Put one foot in front of the other." Luckily, Santa Claus is Comin' to Town already came out by 1978, so everyone got that reference.

"You can do a lot in an hour!" You can also do a lot in five seconds. For example: Shoving you out the back of the truck.

"I believe in our country." In a post-Watergate world? Lady, even in 1978, that's bold.

Maybe Ben should start saying he has a concussion from the plane crash, that will excuse all the character inconsistencies he's creating.

At what point does Ben start to suspect he accidentally erased the Project from the timeline? After all of this talking to himself, you'd think he'd jump to that by now.

Guy accidentally walked onto a landmine? I too saw that episode of MASH / Legends of Tomorrow.

["The Exorcist Believer" is a shitty name for an Exorcist movie, hot damn.]

[What if 2022 Quantum Leap has the stones the original never had, and does a Magnum PI crossover?]

And Ben is now trying to Raiders of the Lost Ark this shit, I technically called this.

...is 2022 Quantum Leap about to blow up a gay man? ...survey says "Fuck that shit," good.

I love that Ben's new plan is "What if sandbags, but more?"

"Do you have a better plan?" "No!" I admire the honesty.

Okay, honestly, I didn't think that was gonna work.

[Firefox is starting to lag again, that's how you know we're back.]

FUCK YES, JUMPING JACK FLASH!

"Something doesn't feel right." That's just the blue filter.

"Look, just let me get onto the roof, nothing bad will happen."

"Wait, did they hear you?" "That would've been the ideal outcome; they noticed we left shit behind, we're walking ducks."

"We gotta blow up the base." "Well, not all of it."

Ben got his action skills from fucking GTA Online.

"Hey, Ben, why are you having another flashback?"

"Look, Ben, calm down, I'm gonna be the leaper, not you, okay? This is totally not tempting fate."

"Guys, I remembered Chinese food exists, we can totally blow up that panel."

"I HAVE FUCKING HAD IT WITH ALL OF YOU! GRIER MAD! GRIER SMASH!"

I love how they are showing how easily replicable this is.

Ben, if you don't floor it, the Russians will win.

I hope to God that wasn't CGI, that was metal as shit.

"Hey, Ben, we were trying to reach you all day, why did you blow up a base?"

...okay, sure, drop that random plot twist. "Hey, the reason you didn't see Addison all episode? It's actually 2026; the Project got shut down. Guess forgetting about that one senator bit us in the ass. Okay, bye, Ben!"

["There are no limits. We randomly included a three-year time skip, and Ben apparently leaps into an Alien. Welcome to fucking Season 2."]

["Oh, also, Addison married some random fuck instead of Ben, hopefully no one tells him, bye!"]

...okay, not gonna lie, now it makes sense that they announced they were adding two new regulars to the show...

#this took too long!#spoilers #quantum leap #macguyver #brick #santa claus is comin' to town #mash #legends of tomorrow #magnum pi #raiders of the lost ark

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sergeantnarwhalwrites · 2 years ago

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Friday Kiss Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @winterandwords!

This is an excerpt from Fucked at Five before the story takes place. Couldn’t decide between this or a fun little scene I wrote of friends assuring friends for Robots & Gardens.

I tag (only if you want!) @jezifster @the-void-writes @writingpotato07 @ezestreet @manathen @kashas-stuff @nanashi23

“You know someone really did their thing with this drink.”

Ian looked away from Elliot seeing Julie from afar hoping she’d come over and end this situation. This was supposed to be a break from the bullshit, hard to accomplish with Elliot right here.

“Yeah truly. What makes you say that?” Ian responded absentmindedly.

“For once I’m looking at you and don’t want to throw up in my mouth.” Elliot wiped his nose with the hand holding his cup failing to hide the embarrassment that arose from admitting it, “You’re not a bad looking guy. Your personality is just foul.”

Silence fell between them for a moment. Happy squeals from little kids and drunken laughter filling the background.

“Uh… Maybe you should–”

Ian went wide eyed as he was cut off by a pair of drunken lips against his. His own hands grasping at the coarse dirt, but not moving to push Elliot off.

Elliot broke the contact almost as soon as it happened and locked eyes with them ears and nose burning red.

“I’m sorry I just did that. I should’ve asked first.” They turned their head and coughed anxiously into their shoulder, looking back to Ian. “May I kiss you?”

Ian stared at him for a moment or two in silence, attempting to blink away the confusion. He swore up and down Elliot hated him. Though the disliking was pretty mutual. That’s not what this looks like.

Ian’s eyes wandered, looking the man in front of him up and down.

It doesn’t even suggest that. But it’s just one night, maybe for now the fellow deer morpher could be forgiven.

“Yeah.” Ian breathed out barely catching on to the response that fell past his own lips.

Elliot kissed Ian once more, properly this time. Capturing the breath and unease from it.

Ian lazily rubbed their hand against their pants leg before allowing their fingers to trail along Elliot’s antlers. He focused only on the silent breaths and the fuzzy feeling of the new velvet of Elliot’s antlers. There was no elder morphers, no fear of ruining Julie’s night, no stress that he wouldn’t enjoy the night just Elliot. And for once that was okay.

Elliot’s heart pounded in his throat, overcome with warmth from Ian’s actions. Ian may be a dick but he was sending Elliot reeling. He unconsciously smiled into the kiss, slipping a couple of his fingers beneath Ian’s belt pulling the morpher closer. He clumsily tugged on Ian’s bottom lip and broke the contact.

They both pulled away letting silence settle between them again as they looked to one another awestruck and embarrassed.

“Never tell Julie about this?” Elliot asked running a hand through his hair.

“Never.” Ian responded immediately.

Elliot reached for the empty cup he had forgotten and lingered for a second. He parted his lips to speak and shook his head, scurrying off back to the coolers. He couldn’t joke away this one, not yet.

Ian gripped his shirt and stared into the campfire attempting to calm the rushing adrenaline.

“That man is a menace.” Ian thought, happily taking the alcohol Julie had arrived with.

#writeblr #tag games #Fucked at Five #Their relationship is complicated #I actually completed this on a friday woo!

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sleepywriter84 · 2 years ago

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From the Beginning Part 4

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Chapter 4: Preparation

Word Count: 2396

Authors note: Sorry for being gone for awhile. I had to prepare for Hurricane Ian and I lost access to the internet for quite a while. But I’m back now. I’m planning on uploading another chapter later today! Also sorry if this chapter is formatted weirdly I had to upload it from my phone.

Bright. As she opens her eyes, she takes in the rising sun that began to peer into the R.V. Grunting, she pushes herself up and stretches. Standing up she walks over to the front door, pushing herself out of the car.

“Good mornin,” Shane greets her, walking past the R.V. with a bucket of water, “Cleaning up station is over here if ya want to follow”.

Nodding her head, she goes after the male, stopping when he drops the bucket down to the ground.

“So here you can use this washcloth, it's communal which is gross I know, but it’s only for ya face. When Glenn gets back later we can talk about what you can do to contribute here. For now just get used to it all, okay?”

“Got it. Thank you,” she responds, taking the washcloth that Shane was holding out to her.

Dipping the piece of cloth into the bucket, she sighs as cold water runs down her face. After thoroughly using the towel to wipe her entire face, she places it back into the bucket. Turning around, she sees food being dished out over by the fire, the same place it was yesterday.

Walking over, she picks up a bowl off of the floor and hands it over to Carol, who was dishing the food out. Offering a small smile towards the girl, Carol hands the bowl back after putting two scoops of what looked like porridge into it.

Moving away from the R.V. she sits down on the ground, slowly sipping at the hot mush. Her peace however, is disrupted once Merle walks into the campsite.

“There she is, the lady of the hour” he barks.

Walking over to where she sat, he took the bowl of food out of her hands before loudly slurping it.

“We’re given her more handouts huh? She hasn’t done a damn thing for us, and you’re just letting her take take take. Well, missy, that’s not how this fucking works. You ‘ave to earn what you take' ' Merle speaks between eating.

“C’mon now you don’t have to be like that” a man she wasn’t introduced to last night, speaks out, walking over from the wash station.

“You think I’m going to listen to you. You’re the last person I’d ever listen to. The bitch here has to earn her keep. Her Chinese friend is, why not her?”

“She just woke up from a bad concussion, she needs a minute to adjust. Like Shane said, she’ll earn her keep once she’s better” the stranger defends.

“It don’t seem like she’s unconscious anymore, seems to me she’s good to start workin. That’s all I got to say” Merle replies, walking over to Carol and holding out the bowl.

“You already ate” she whispers, hesitating to pour more food in his bowl.

“Fill me up woman. I haven’t eaten my share, only what got took”.

Diverting her attention, she looks over to the man who was trying to defend her.

“Sorry about that, he’s got a temper. The names T-Dog, I heard you woke up last night, sorry I wasn’t there, I headed to bed right after Shane told ya I helped find ya” he introduces himself, holding out a hand for her to shake.

“It’s alright. Thank you for standing up for me, I appreciate it, though he kind of has a point. I did drain your resources, and haven’t offered anything back”.

“Hey, that’s not your fault. You were in pretty rough shape back there. Shane and I were out skimming the woods to see if anymore of those things were nearby, and we found you and your friend. He was holding a rock covered in guts, you were up against a tree, dried blood all over ya head. We actually thought he had killed you, but he explained how when they bombed the city you got caught up in it, and the force of the explosion made you bash your head pretty bad on a rock. We were surprised he even got you that far into the forest, he your boyfriend?”

“No, no, just a friend. We worked almost every shift together at a pizza parlor in a shopping center in Atlanta. He’s like a brother. He’s all I have left right now”.

“Well he should be back this afternoon, so try not to worry” T-Dog offers, patting her on the back and walking off.

As the hours drag on, she just sits in the same place, right the R.V. Her eyes are trained on the very spot that Shane says Glenn should appear in. When lunch was served, she refused to eat anything. And when water was offered to her by Lori, she refused that too. Merle happily took her servings, making a point to enjoy what was supposed to be hers. She disagreed with the way Merle was going about it, but she did agree that she shouldn’t take anything else until she gives back. These people have been together since the start of it all two weeks ago. They found each other and learned to work together to survive. She was a stranger. Someone who wasn’t a part of the group, who was just luckily brought in.

While she was in her head, she almost missed the blue baseball cap that was coming up over the hill. Halting in her thoughts, she stands up and begins to jog over to where Glenn was approaching.

“It’s good to see you awake” he calls out, shrugging off two full bags of stuff onto Shane's car.

Instead of responding, she starts to run a bit faster until she's right next to him. She then throws her hands over Glenn’s frame, hugging him tight to her body.

“I didn’t know where you were,” she whispers, grasping at the back of neck.

“I’m here. I had to go out and replace what they used to help you, I couldn’t let you die”.

“Thank you”.

Peeling herself off of him, she pats him on the back before turning over to Shane. Shane starts to shuffle through the bags, looking a bit surprised with what Glenn brought back.

“You brought a lot more than I asked. A lot of food too, how the hell did you find all this?”

“I know my way around the city, I wanted to also show my thanks for you guys helping her and taking us in,” Glenn explains before digging into his back pockets and holding something out to her, “I found this too. It isn’t yours, but I thought I’d replace it since it kind of got exploded”.

Holding her hands out, she takes the electronic device that he was holding out to her. It was a light blue walkman, it looked almost identical to the one she had before people started eating each other. Even though it was a simple gesture, it meant a lot to her. The old walkman she had was one of the only things she had ever gotten for herself. Most of her money went towards taking care of her family, she never spent any of it on herself. However, there was this one day. She just turned 18, and she had just graduated high school. She was at the pizza parlor working a double. It was just a normal day. Glenn was trying to convince her to spend a little money on herself, trying to hand her his tips for the day, telling her to buy something nice. She wouldn’t take the money though. On their way home that day, Glenn and her had parted ways. She was exhausted and she just wanted to go home and fall asleep. But something in one of the windows in the small shopping center caught her eye.

It was a simple vintage shop, and inside it was a bunch of old fashioned items. For some reason, she felt drawn to it, especially the tiny cassette tape labeled Purple Rain that sat on top of a bin that was filled with cassette tapes. Walking in, she picked up the tape, letting her fingers roll softly over the circles that contained the tape. It wasn’t that expensive, she reasoned, so she walked up to the counter to buy it. She would bring it to work and show Glenn, keeping her promise that she would buy herself something (even though that promise was made just to make him shut up about it).

As the cashier rang her up, they asked if she had a device to play the tape. Shaking her head, she said she just could afford the tape, that it would just be a nice trinket to have. To her surprise however, the lady pulled out a blue walkman.

“I’m sorry I can’t afford that. I’ll just take the cassette” she explains, raising her voice just a bit, thinking the cashier didn’t hear her the first time.

“I know what you said, but you’re the girl at City’s Pizza right? I see you there all the time, for the past three years. You always walk by this shop after work and stop and look around right? All your money goes to your family, at least that’s what Donnie, Brandon’s son says”.

“That’s not really your business” she whispers, holding the three dollars and 21 cents that she owed.

It wasn’t a secret. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that it was her job to raise her siblings and take care of her mom. At first only the people who were around her all the time knew about her predicament. But when she got caught buying coke for her mom, and got arrested, it seemed that everyone knew when she had gotten out.

Glenn was the one who bailed her, luckily getting the officer who caught her in the act to understand why she was doing it. The whole drive home from the station was silent. It was only when they arrived at her house did Glenn speak up, and felt like she just had to tell him it all.

“I know, I know. Sorry, just please take it, no ones gonna buy it anyway, it’s not gonna be missed” the cashier calls out breaking her from her train of thought.

Cautiously she grabs the blue walkman and cassette tape, trading her money for the objects.

“Thank you” she whispers, staring at the small device in her hands.

On her way home that day, she played the tape she had bought, and instantly fell in love. It was hers, the only thing she ever had all to herself, and she cherished it. The fact that Glenn remembered, made her heart swell up. She never thought she could make friends, never really had the time for it, but Glenn was always there. He was family.

“Glenn its beautiful, are you sure?”

“Of course, got it just for you” he smiles, patting her on the back.

Just in time to ruin the moment, Merle comes stumbling through the camp out to where she was standing with Shane and Glenn.

“Great, he’s back. Now can we discuss what princess is gonna do here to help out, or are we gonna boot her like we should”.

“Quiet down, you see all this shit Merle, it’s more than you’ve ever brought in. So quit your whinin and leave her be” Shane calls out, hitting the truck of his car to make a point.

“Nah. You may be the leader here, but you ain’t gonna talk to me like that. Y’all eat fresh meat because of me and my baby brother, so you ain’t got any argument there. Little lady needs to push her weight. You said we wait till he’s back, well he is, so let's discuss” Merle shouts, spitting on the ground and walking closer.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get this over with” she says to Shane, nodding her head towards him.

“Okay. Okay. So you wanna talk about pulling weight. There’s a clothes shop in Atlanta on the map we haven’t explored yet. Last time we heard, Atlanta was bombed and swarmed, but it’s been silent. We’re running out of cloth and there's grocery stores nearby we could loot for more food. I want a team out there early in the morning” Shane explains pulling out a map and walking over to the hood of his car.

Laying out the map for everyone to see. He points to the areas around the heart of Atlanta.

“What do you say? You alright to go. You won’t be by yourself, it’ll be a big chunk of us that go”

“Yeah, I got it” she agrees.

“Okay, so lets talk numbers. Merle you’re going with, Glenn if you want you got a spot too” Shane starts nodding towards the black haired man.

“Who else will be going with us?” Glenn asks, turning around to look at the rest of the group that was roaming around the camp grounds.

“Lori and Carol aren’t going, they’re needed here. Ed should stay too, he’d probably just get violent. T-Dog probably wouldn’t be opposed we can ask him. Andrea has been itchin to get her hand on a gun and go out there, so she’ll agree. Anyone else?”

“I’ll go too” the woman who was introduced a while back as Jacqui answers, walking towards the small meeting.

“Alright, so we got our team. You all will head out right before sunrise. You’ll make it to the city in the mornin and you’ll be expected to head back two hours before the sunsets, that way you get out of there right when it gets dark out. Any questions?” Shane asks, leaning against the hood of the car.

“Nope. Glad little lady is gonna be there with me” Merle barks walking away.

“Don’t worry about him. You’ll be surrounded by people, he isn’t going to touch you” Jacqui offers, hands being put on the girls shoulders.

“I’m not worried. Just happy he doesn’t have an excuse to steal my food anymore” she mutters.

The rest of the evening goes by smoothly. Glenn and her claim a small piece of land where they set up sleeping bags. When dinner rolls by she finally gets to eat, though Merle is watching her like a hawk. After she finishes her bowl, she heads back towards her sleeping bag, settling in for the night.

Taglist: @superflannel

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #twd #glenn rhee

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ascendance-if · 4 years ago

Note

How would the ROs react to a fake make out situation? referencing the ask to faith of gods tumblr!

Hello ❤ Love this one! Deep crushing stage, kay? And that wip is 10/10!!!

Elya

You're in a meeting with beings known to have a culture centered in romantic partnership and, therefore, you and Elya agreed that they would be more open to talk with a couple rather than with platonic partners.

Elya sits by your side comfortably. He leans against you when he speaks, and sometimes his eyes lock with yours. Contrary to his usual self, he doesn't blush or hesitate under your gaze. He holds it and welcomes it with the ease akin to a husband that has been with his partner for years, exactly as your facade demands. His voice is also louder and deeper than usual, and his demeanor exhales confidence like you've never seen before.

When you have to part for a while and the beings in the room look at you expectantly, Elya turns to you and caresses your left cheek. He directs his blue eyes to your hair, grooming it slowly as a subtle way to allow you to ready yourself for your cover going one step further.

When his eyes meet yours again, attentively, only you know what this really means: he's asking for consent. Getting a minimal nod, the unspoken sign from you, he places a soft peck on your mouth, one that deliberately puts more pressure on your upper lip than the bottom one, not going any deeper than it has to.

After he leaves with one of the representatives, you find yourself having a hard time focusing on the ongoing conversation. Your fingers unconsciously trace your lips every so often, intrigued.

That kiss not only felt extremely tender, but also strangely familiar.

Ian

"Hurry!" - Ian says, in between laughter. He takes your hand as the two of you run down the streets of Yokohama.

Every time he visits his hometown this happens: fans and photographers recognize "the art prodigy" born in the city and chase after him, and the fact that he has a huge face tattoo doesn't make it any easier for you to disappear in the crowd.

Entering a convenience store quickly, Ian takes off his distinct coat and throws it in a corner. The owner, an old lady, doesn't seem to mind the display at all. "Sorry about this, love" - Ian smiles widely as he pushes you towards the end of an aisle.

He presses you against the shelves and closes the distance between your faces, using strategic positioning to make it look very passionate for outsiders, while only actually placing a soft kiss on your nose.

Some fans come inside of the store looking for him and, after making disapproving noises at the two punks kissing publicly, leave at once.

Ian takes a few steps back while giggling and looking at you affectionately, his cheeks of a burning rouge. "We got them!" - He says, a huge winning smile on his face. Before leaving, he bows and takes the owner's hand affectionately "I'm sorry, Mrs. Takahashi". The old woman laughs fondly.

"No worries, child! Say hi to your mother for me" - She waves dismissively and releases his hand, bidding the two of you farewell. When you leave the store, the streets are calm again, but one thing still puzzles you.

If the danger is clearly gone, why are your fingers still intertwined?

Joana

"I'm taken" - Joana's dulcet voice resonates in the room towards the gentleman that you are in charge of protecting for the day.

Your face burns and your lips tingle with misplaced anticipation.

A few minutes ago, Joana suddenly embraced your body firmly and placed a soft kiss on your chin, cleverly using her curly hair to hide your faces just enough to make it look like a loving kiss from afar.

Now, still feeling her chest rub lightly against yours, when you look into her eyes for a sort of explanation, her pupils dilate in a way that the only thing you can actually see is your own confused expression.

You think the situation through and, then, realize that you too have noticed how the man's discrete advances continued to happen all day long towards Joana, and that not only is she already tired of incisively turning them down, but she is also in the mood to have some fun, if the glint in her eyes is any indication.

"I don't think that's ethical between co-workers" - The man says, his flirty expression replaced by a deep, almost childish frown.

Joana paces around the room and stops by the window, allowing the setting sun to bathe her skin and reflect on her eyes in a way that makes them glow with a deep red tone.

"It is in our line of work. And it has only strengthened our relationship, in fact" - Her voice is firm and, under her daring gaze, the man grows exceedingly quiet, finally.

When she looks at you with a beautiful, triumphant grin, you return it, but your senses confuse you: the kiss was clearly an act, and the deep relationship between you made up, but the pink tone of her cheeks and hammering heartbeat against your chest?

Those definitely weren't.

#ask #thanks for asking ❤#yallcantyougivemeabreak #i'm going to update your tag!#Aalaa ❤#this was a lot of fun to write #and sorry it took a bit #tech work consumed a quarter of my soul this week #XD

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casspurrjoybell-17 · 2 years ago

Text

HEART'S REDEMPTION - CHAPTER 35

*Warning: Adult Content*

When Sam Asato screams, Ian Foley loses it.

He'd been holding his cool pretty well up until that point, too.

After Sam passed out, Maria Walker had told Jack and Sofia to lock him in the basement below the lodge.

Ian had only agreed to this idea because they'd promised not to hurt him and Maria had threatened to shoot Ian if he didn't go along with it.

He'd spent the past thirty minutes doing his best to convince her and Inez that Sam was not a threat but he'd made little progress so far.

The only reason Ian hadn't lost it already is that Cass Walker has taken their side and Antonia Martinez proves a level-headed ally in a crisis.

They've been standing in the kitchen, near the basement stairs, Maria, Inez, Cass, Toni and Ian, trying to hash things out while Carlos, Jack and Sofia keep an eye on Elliot.

So far, Sam remains unconscious but no one knows what will happen when he wakes up, whether he'll be himself again or if he'll go on another rampage.

Ian has just finished telling everyone, for the eleventeenth time, that Elliot attacked them and that Sam is not dangerous, when he hears his high-pitched, terrified scream rising from below.

Shoving Maria aside...

‘Call me a jerk but old lady or not, she's blocking my way to Sam.’

Ian leaps down the steps to the basement, taking them four at a time.

Sam is in a small storage room at the back, the door bolted and locked and even as a bear Ian doesn't know if he'd be able to bust through.

He pounds his fist on the heavy boards that separate them and shouts his name.

"Sam. Sam? Are you okay?"

"Ian?"

"Yes, I'm here, Sam I..."

"Ian. There's something in here. Please, please get me out. Get me out."

Sam’s voice is high and strained with panic and the sound twists like a knife.

He screams again, cutting Ian off and making his heart leap with fear.

"IAN. Get me out of here. Please."

Fortunately for everyone, Cass seems to understand that if there's anything to be afraid of right now, it's Ian Foley.

"Jesus, Mom, open the door." they say, holding out a hand for the keys. "Something's clearly wrong in there."

Maria frowns but hands over the set of keys and Cass quickly unlocks the door and throws it open.

‘The sight that greets me makes my heart burn with rage. My little Sam, in chains.’

Sam’s wrists are caught in thick metal bands, suspended above his head and secured to a thick wooden beam at his back.

The only light is what spills in through the open door and by its feeble cast Ian sees that Sam’s pale face is streaked with tears and his whole body trembles, making the chains rattle faintly where they pull at his arms.

"Sam." Ian rushes forward and drops in front of Sam, taking his face between his hands. "What is it? A demon?"

He shakes his head.

"I d-d-don't know. Something t-t-touched me," he stammers.

Cass works quickly and a few seconds later the manacles come off and Sam falls into Ian’s arms, a shaking mess.

Maria and Inez stand in the doorway, matching frowns on their almost identical faces.

"There's nothing in here," Maria says, shining a small light into the corners of the room.

Ian has to admit, it looks like she's right.

Besides a few old boxes along the back wall, the room is empty.

"Did you see it?" Ian asks Sam, rubbing his hands over his back in an attempt to soothe his painfully raw fear.

"No," he says, sniffing. "I couldn't see anything. I just... heard it and f-felt it."

Even as he speaks, a small rustling noise reaches them from the far corner.

"That's it. That's what it sounded like." he says, spinning to press his back against Ian’s chest.

Cass stands and takes a tentative step towards the noise and then everyone startles as something small breaks cover, streaks across the floor and disappears through a crack on the opposite wall.

Ian sags with relief, while Maria and Inez release their breath in a huff and Cass bursts into laughter.

"A rat?" they shriek. "You were afraid...of a rat?"

"Yeah, you'd be scared too, if you woke up chained in the dark with no idea what the fuck might be there in the dark with you," Sam snaps.

He's clearly as relieved as the rest of them but he hasn't stopped shaking and Ian hugs him a little tighter as he turns again to hold on to him.

He hides it so well, it's easy to forget that he's been through a lot of shit and Ian hates myself for letting the Walkers put him through more.

Cass's amusement fades.

"You're right. Chaining you up like this was a shitty thing to do, even if you did scare us... I can't speak for everyone but... I'm sorry."

Ian doesn't like to admit it but he does understand the Walkers' reaction.

They'd never seen Sam's demon-form before and even he had to admit he'd been alarmed.

He'd still found him beautiful, of course.

Beautiful and terrifying, savage and deadly, a fierce, living warrior-God.

Elliot was the largest and strongest of the Walkers but Sam had brought him down like it was nothing.

Of course, then he'd passed out and resumed his human form, small and delicate by comparison, a compact little body that fits perfectly in Ian’s arms, hardly a threat and certainly not someone to lock in a basement in the dark.

And with that thought, Ian remembers that this isn't the first basement Sam had been locked in, which probably explains why even now he can still feel his heart rabbiting in his chest where it presses against his.

"Hey, are you okay?" Ian asks.

He doesn't answer but nods with his head against Ian’s shoulder.

"We're getting out of here, I promise."

Ian stands, drawing Sam up with him and leads him from the awful little room, his opinion of the Walkers continuing its downward slide as he wonders why they have such a set-up to begin with.

‘I mean, I know Shifters can be a weird bunch but who keeps heavy manacles just lying around?’

As Ian passes her and start to climb the stairs, his arm around Sam, Maria frowns at him and Ian glares a challenge back.

She's lucky Ian didn't know what condition they'd tried to keep Sam in, or Elliot wouldn't be the only one with bruises and broken ribs right now.

"Mom, stop," Cass says, seeing Maria's look. "He's crying because of a rat, for God's sake. He's not a threat. Like Ian said, he's a kid."

"I'm not a kid," Sam answers reflexively. "I'm..." He stops, blinks, and then goes on in an oddly soft voice. "I'm twenty-one."

"Almost twenty-one," Ian corrects automatically.

"No," he returns, still very quiet. "Twenty-one."

Ian realizes what he's saying with a little shock.

"Shit, babe. When?"

"This morning, I guess."

"Jesus. What a way to celebrate, huh?"

Ian pull Sam closer and kisses the side of his head.

He shrugs a little.

"It's not the first birthday I've spent in a basement in the dark," he says, a tiny, humorless smile twisting his lips.

"Fuck," Ian swears, again promising himself to do better by him any way he can. "We'll make it up. We'll make up for all of it, okay? You and me. No more bad birthdays."

"Wait, it's his birthday?" Cass asks, sounding horrified.

Ian doubts the knowledge would have changed anything but it's fine with him if it makes the Walkers feel bad in retrospect. "Damn. Hey, I think there's some leftover cake in the freezer. You want some?"

Sam laughs, for real this time and sniffs.

"No. Thanks, Cass but I just want to get out of here."

"Me too, babe. Me too." Ian assures him.

‘Screw the Walkers and their whole damn mess.’

Ian doesn't know if it makes him a coward or just a sensible person but he knows when it's time to walk away from a problem that's too big for him to solve.

He just wants to take Sam and go home.

"You can't leave," Inez says, frowning at me. "You still have the mark, remember?"

"I don't care," Ian says. "Besides, the farther away from your territory I can get, the safer I'll feel."

She looks unhappy but doesn't argue.

As they step outside, though, Ian realizes that running away might not be so easy after all.

He might want to leave the problem behind but unfortunately, it seems like the problem has other plans.

His truck and the two Walker vehicles are parked in front of the lodge and even from the porch Ian can tell that something is wrong.

Every one of the tires on all three vehicles has been slashed.

At least for the moment, no one's going anywhere.

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jamiemackenziefraser · 4 years ago

Text

All That Was Fair

Chapter 11: Busted on All Fronts

(Here’s the original mood board I made but decided to revise. And since I’m here talking but don’t usually put notes for my tumblr readers, I just wanted to say thank you all so so much for your continued support of the story!! It means a lot. Love to you all!)

Chapter Summary: Jamie receives an unwelcome surprise, then an accident sparks new discoveries.

Read on AO3

Read chapter 11 below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 11: Busted on All Fronts

***

When they arrived home that night, Jamie thought it likely that he’d end up carrying her inside again. He came around to her side, opened the door, and then gently shook her shoulder. She woke just enough to get out of the car, but the second Claire was on her feet, she was leaning into Jamie and twining her arms around his neck.

He wrapped his own arms, in turn, around her waist (just to steady her), and pulled her closer with forbidden longing tugging at his heart.

“Jamie?” she murmured.

“What is it, a nighean?”

She was quiet for a long second.

“Oh… nothing.”

That unsettled him a bit; he wanted desperately to know what her sleepy confession might have been, but he wouldn’t press her.

“Want me to take ye up tae bed, lass?” he asked, his heart skipping a beat as he made the suggestion. It was a completely innocent offer to carry her inside, but his mind couldn’t help drifting to the implications…

“That would be nice,” she mumbled against his chest.

So, not one to refuse his Sassenach any request, he lifted her off her feet and carried her inside.

Jamie was a stubborn man. He liked to think that meant he adhered to his principles, but Jenny always said it was just that he was hard-heided. Whichever it was, he insisted on putting her in the guest room— despite the evidence to hand that she wouldn’t be inclined to stay there.

He deposited her gently into bed, watching as she sleepily settled in. She was well and truly conked out, the sweet lass, and Jamie thought she just might be too tired to wake herself up and climb into bed with him. Perhaps tonight would be the night she finally managed to stay in her own room?

And that thought disappointed Jamie more than he cared to admit.

Flicking off the light and leaving her to her bed, Jamie headed toward his own room. He stopped dead in his tracks when a thought suddenly occurred to him.

Real life. He’d forgotten nearly everything that day— caught up with Claire as he was. He hadn’t eaten since that morning, nor had he thought about work, which was expecting him the next day.

But there was no way he’d be leaving Claire tomorrow, no way in hell, so he whipped out his phone.

This time— not wanting to deal with Ian’s incessant questions (which surely would have only grown with the added day)— he simply shot him a text.

<<Sorry, brother, I need another day. I trust you can take care of things. Thank you for understanding.>>

That taken care of, he headed downstairs. First order of business: the pile of clothes and things were still in the car (his hands had been a little full of a certain faerie when he’d come in the house), and he groaned before heading outside. He scooped up the heap and then went straight back in, dropping everything carelessly on one chair in the living room. The little book at the very bottom of the pile lay forgotten.

Next, Jamie headed for some food.

Adso sat on his lap as he ate at the table, probably feeling a bit neglected. He made sure to give him plenty of attention with indulgent one-handed scritches. Guilt was starting to tug at him as he thought about the responsibilities he’d been shirking ever since he’d stumbled across Claire. The lass made him lose his damn mind when he was around her, and he hoped someday he’d actually get it back and be able to attend to his responsibilities again. The company would do fine without him for a few days, but they did need him. Eventually he’d have to break free of this bubble he was living in and return to his obligations.

He didn’t want to think about that, though. It was too painful to imagine explaining to Claire that he was leaving her for the day— her big, sad eyes as he walked out the door, leaving her upset and alone in the unfamiliar house…

Jamie actually shook his head in an attempt to dislodge the disconcerting thoughts.

Once he was properly showered and prepared for bed, he tossed his phone on the dresser face down and collapsed onto the mattress. It was only 10 pm, but he felt as worn out as if he’d been up for three consecutive days.

Sure enough, only minutes after Jamie settled into bed, Claire came padding into his room, rubbing at bleary eyes. She was like clockwork, his faerie.

He made no protestations this time. His earlier disappointment at the thought of her no longer wishing to share his bed deliciously ebbed away as she came toward him. Simply opening his arms for her, he rumbled, “come ‘ere, lass,” and Claire laid down beside him, resting her head on his chest and melting against him.

“Goodnight,” he whispered into her hair.

But she was already asleep again, breathing evenly, chest rising and falling against his side.

Jamie followed her shortly, ensconced in the warm contentment of having her, once again, wrapped in his arms.

Where she belonged.

Jamie woke abruptly the next morning to the incessant ring of his doorbell. Whoever was at the door must have lost their bloody mind, because the ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong was obnoxiously unceasing.

“Ifrinn,” he cursed under his breath as he shot out of bed.

Claire, startled into wakefulness by his body leaving hers, jolted upright and looked wildly around the room as if expecting attack.

“Stay here,” he told her as he darted from the room.

Stumbling down the stairs, trying to run his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair and blinking away the remnants of unconsciousness, he made his way to the front door.

“I’m coming, haud yer wheesht!” he called in frustration.

The ringing stopped just as he reached the door. When he flung it open, he was greeted with the sight of his sister Jenny standing on his porch, her arms crossed and eyes glaring daggers, and Ian lingering just behind her.

“What the devil are ye doin h—” he started, but Jenny interrupted him.

“What the devil am I doin? What the devil are ye doin!”

She shouldered her way past him, barging inside without a shred of social decorum. Her dander was clearly up. Jamie stood rooted in his spot, staring straight ahead, and Ian simply gave him a shrug. Then, his brother-in-law followed his wife inside, and Jamie was left to trail after them into his own house.

“I dinna recall invitin’ ye in, Janet,” he grumbled as he shut the door behind them.

Jenny was in no mood. “Four days and no’ a single word from ye? I’ve texted ye countless times, called ye even more, and ye dinna have the decency to let me know ye’re alive!” Her voice was raised in confrontation, and as she laid into him, her face grew redder with the heat of the upcoming battle.

Jamie tried to maintain his cool in the face of this tirade.

“I told Ian I needed some days off,” he said patiently, “besides. I am no’ a child, Janet. I dinna have tae tell ye where I am at all times.”

Ian chose that moment to jump in, which was probably good timing, because Jenny looked close to exploding at his response. “Where have ye been, Jamie?”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Here. At home. Believe it or no’, sometimes people just need a break.”.

“Oh, is that so?” Jenny hissed, “Then why is Mrs. Fitz callin’ me up to inform me ye were shagging a lassie in her dressin’ room?”

Jamie threw his hands up in agitation. “Christ! I wasna doin’ anythin’!”

“But ye were wi’ a lassie?” Jenny demanded.

“Aye, but—”

“Christ, Jamie! Is she the reason ye disappeared?” Her roaring tone had fallen into one that was more exasperated and accusatory.

Jamie didn’t have an answer for her, mind grappling with how best to proceed— he clearly couldn’t tell her the truth about Claire, no way in hell she’d believe him. Jenny took his silence as a confirmation though, and her eyes blazed. He gave her a shrug.

This insolence was apparently the last straw for Jenny as she threw her hand up to stop him from speaking and averted her face in disgust.

“Who is she?” she asked in an even, low voice— one that indicated she would not tolerate anything but a straight answer.

“Jenny, she’s no one,” he said firmly, trying to infuse his voice with enough sincerity that his sister would take his word, “listen. She’s nothin’ but a fling. Somethin’ tae pass the time. I was feelin’ burnt out from work and… I jes’ needed tae blow off a bit of steam, is all.”

The whole time he was speaking, Jenny had been deflating. Her shoulders lowered from their confrontational set and the fire in her eyes was dying down. Ian, on the other hand, stood there with wide eyes, his jaw fallen open.

“Jamie,” Ian said, “I have never kent ye tae ‘have a fling,’ as ye say.”

“Well maybe ye dinna ken me as well as ye think,” was the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind to say. “Now, if ye’re quite finished interrogatin’ me about my love life and sticking yer neb where it doesnae belong, will ye please leave me tae have my day off in peace?”

He thought they were both so taken aback that they just might leave without a fight. His suspicions were proved correct when Ian, face tinted with the heat of shame, took Jenny’s arm and started steering her toward the door.

“Goodbye, Janet,” Jamie said pointedly as they stepped outside.

“Goodbye,” his sister said numbly as Ian pushed her in the direction of their car.

Resisting the urge to slam the door in her nosy face, Jamie closed and locked it. He still fumed from Jenny’s confrontation. The audacity. For her to barge into his house demanding answers, defaming his character…

He was just rounding the corner of the hall to head upstairs when he was stopped dead in his tracks by the sight of Claire, hand braced against the wall, eyes wet and shining with tears.

She looked up at him when he froze in front of her, and the expression on her face nearly ended him. Heartbreak, betrayal, sorrow— all glittered in those bonny whisky eyes.

“‘No one?’” she whispered, repeating his earlier words.

A tear escaped the corner of her eye and trailed slowly down the side of her face. The sight of it was like an arrow to the chest, and his heart leapt to his throat. The precursor to full blown panic.

For her part, Claire was completely motionless, save the slight heaving of her chest as she tried to keep herself in check.

Jamie reached out for her instinctively, but she shied away from his touch with a sharp step back, and his hand froze midair.

Oh God, never before had she done that.

“No,” he breathed, all the air punched out of him, “no, Claire, I didna mean that.”

“That was your sister, wasn’t it? She asked, her voice tiny but accusatory. More tears were leaking from her brimming eyes now, and Jamie was torn apart with longing to take her into his arms. “You told your sister I was nothing to you?”

She was angry, Jamie could tell. But it was the kind of anger that was a poor façade covering barely restrained hurt. Although she was standing firm in herself, her voice— and even her demeanor— seemed tiny. It was as if she was angry at him while at the same time wanting desperately for him to fix things.

“But it wasna true, mo chridhe,” he forced out, agonized to see the effect his words had on her, “I jes’ had tae tell her somethin’ t’ get her tae stop askin’ about you.”

“Because you’re ashamed of me?”

The breathy question rocked him to his core.

“No,” he shook his head forcefully, “no, mo nighean donn—”

“I can’t blame you,” she interrupted, and then her words came faster, “I just fell out of the sky and into your lap and ruined everything for you. Of course you don’t want to tell your family about the poor lost faerie you took pity on and—”

“‘Ruined everything’?” he repeated numbly, shaking his head again as his brain wrestled with that particular phrase.

“That is why they were here? You haven’t been seeing them? Or going to… what is it called?”

“Work,” he answered automatically, “but listen to me—”

She swiped a hand frustratedly over her face to clear the falling tears. She wasn’t listening to him, and Jamie desperately reached out and took her hand.

Claire tried to jerk it away, but he held fast. His fingers were insistent but gentle on her soft skin. Every part of him entreated her to just hear the truth and to know the depth of his heart for her.

“Listen to me, Sorcha,” he said firmly, “you havna ‘ruined’ anything. These past few days wi’ you… they’ve been the best days I’ve had in a long time. Maybe in my life. And I’m not ashamed of you. It’s jes’ that they dinna even believe in the fair folk, so it would be too much for them if I told the truth now. So I lied. Do ye hear me, Claire? I lied to them to stop their questions.”

She was still, looking up at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She looked desperate to believe him, but was warring inside herself.

It shattered him to see what the overheard words— his words, ones he’d chosen to say— had done to her.

He had to make it right. He would. He couldn’t lose her over this.

“I’m so sorry, mo chridhe. Ye were never meant tae hear that, because it was not true. Ye mean so much tae me. And with time, I promise I will tell my family the truth. Please, Sassenach, believe me.”

The next few seconds when Claire remained motionless were the longest of Jamie’s life. His heart raced in his chest and the still silence weighed heavy on his bones.

Finally… finally… she gave a wordless nod.

Jamie let out the breath he’d been holding. He wanted desperately to reach out and smooth away the sad crease between her brows, to wipe away the tears and hurt and pain from her face. There were so many things he longed to do, but for the moment, he had to be content with having only her hand in his and her acceptance of his apology.

Claire had finally managed to form words, and looked up at him with her face set.

“I believe you,” she said quietly.

That broke all his resolve.

He bridged the distance between them and took her into his arms, hugging her tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, “I’m so sorry.”

So near he had come to the world dropping out beneath his feet. So close to driving her away with a careless misunderstanding...

But Jamie’s shattered heart was miraculously healed the moment Claire’s arms wrapped around him in return.

Forgiveness.

A sob almost burst from his chest, but he managed to restrain it. Instead, he simply embraced her more tightly, pouring out unspoken promises into the touch.

I won’t hurt you like this again. I won’t betray your trust. I promise I’ll tell them with time.

And as she squeezed him tighter in return, he knew she accepted them.

A short while later, Jamie found himself in the kitchen chopping vegetables for his lunch. Claire had asked him if she could take a shower, likely needing a moment to herself, so he’d taken her to the bathroom and turned it on for her before reluctantly leaving her to collect herself. His thoughts were spinning with regret and guilt, but every time he began to berate himself, he grounded his turmoil with the knowledge of her forgiveness.

He’d heard the shower turn off minutes ago and hoped Claire would be coming to find him soon, but he wouldn’t push her. She needed to come to him. If not, he’d let her have her space.

All of a sudden, the tip of the knife blade he was wielding sliced into his finger, having missed the edge of the tomato and glided straight into the skin of his forefinger.

He cursed as pain zinged through him and he dropped the knife. The blood was already beginning to well up, dripping onto the cutting board, and he quickly grabbed the dish towel and wrapped it around the wounded digit. It was nothing too serious, but still hurt like the devil.

Jamie was cursing under his breath when a voice came from the doorway. “Jamie?”

He whirled around to see Claire, standing across the room, her eyes wide with concern.

“Are you alright?” she anxiously asked.

The faerie had caught sight of the blood on the cutting board and all of a sudden was rushing toward him. Jamie didn’t even have time to tell her not to worry. She just took his wrapped hands in hers— with equal parts desperation and gentleness— and demanded, “what happened?”

“Dinna fash, it’s no’ but a wee scratch. The bleeding will stop in a minute,” he assured her.

She was studying his face with concern, eyes darting to the bloody cutting board and then back up to him.

“Let me see,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

He hadn’t even given his consent before she started to unwrap the towel. With the loss of pressure, more blood came welling up from the cut. Heedless of the bleeding, though, Claire dropped the towel to the floor and wrapped one hand around his fingers, placing the other on top.

Jamie would have attributed what happened next to a blood loss hallucination if it wasn’t for the fact that he hadn’t actually lost all that much blood.

A glow of soft yellow light shone from between Claire’s cupped hands, and then a warm, tingling sensation began in Jamie’s finger. As the light from her palms grew brighter, the pain started to ebb, little by little. Jamie could hardly wrap his head around it, and simply stared down at their hands with wide, disbelieving eyes. After only another second, even the residual sting was gone. The glowing light died away and Claire removed her hands, revealing his finger— completely unblemished, with not a single hint of damaged skin.

Jamie’s mouth gaped open as he looked at her in astonishment.

“Ye…” his wits were gone and he had trouble forming the words, “Did ye—? Ye can… heal?”

Claire gave an offhanded shrug. “All it takes is a little concentration and energy,” she stated, as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

Jamie was still dumbfounded. “I— eh… wow! Thank ye, lass,” he finally managed.

He was so blown away by her that his brain didn’t comprehend when she took his hand in hers and began gently rubbing it. There was no trace of injury left, but she still seemed troubled, and was stroking his hand comfortingly. Her thumb traced several times over the spot where the cut had been.

His slightly addled brain found her distress over him incredibly endearing. When she stooped down to grab the towel and began to gently wipe away the residual blood, Jamie simply stood still and allowed her to care for him.

Once she was finished cleaning off his skin, she looked up at him with a startlingly fierce expression on her face.

“You need to be more careful,” she said, “you had me worried.”

Jamie couldn’t help but smile. “Really, it was nothin’, lass. Besides, I have you tae patch me up now, it seems.”

Claire was not smiling. Her face was set in concern, brows furrowed as she gazed up at him.

“I won’t lose you,” she said softly.

“Oh, mo nighean donn, ye wilna lose me.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly, demonstrating its capability, “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

***

#all that was fair #update #claire x jamie #outlander fanfiction #fae!claire

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dramaticviolincrescendo · 4 years ago

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As is often the case in conversation with the magnificent @gallavictorious, I’m left pondering when exactly it all went wrong.

Frank is inarguably, objectively a terrible person. He’s arrogant, entitled, dishonest, manipulative, irresponsible, and selfish. That’s not even mentioning his abysmal parental skills, which are seldom on display because, from the beginning of the show, he simply wasn’t around. And they liked it that way—it meant less chaos in an already mayhem-fueled environment. However, as awful as he is, it’s apparent at various points throughout the series that his kids have loved or felt some form of loyalty/attachment to him as much as they’ve hated him, even if grudgingly so. We know the process by which Debbie and Carl eventually wrote Frank off. We watched that happen in real time and know when he burned his final bridges of meaningful contact with them. We saw them accompany him to assist in various scams, often at his request and sometimes without the intent to use them for anything. They went to him for help, Debbie with babysitting and Carl with school. For as many times as Frank shrugged them off, there were others where he offered a wink and followed along, even if it was motivated by his own self-interest. During his “born again” phase, he stood up to a drug dealer and made sure he knew that coming for his family would not end well for him. His relationship with Liam has been playing out in similar ways, especially in the last two seasons.

This isn’t to say that Frank’s occasional moments of decency or genuine if misguided parenting can ever begin to balance his debt to his children or erase the neglect and outright abuse in some cases. But it makes me wonder...

When did it happen for Fiona, Lip, and Ian? At what point did “just enough” turn into “not enough”?

In s3, Fiona recounted the story of Frank buying drugs and being abandoned with Lip and a very sick Ian to take care of on her own. After Monica died, she reminded him of all the times Monica wasn’t there and how Fiona had to step up because he wouldn’t. But in s4, when Frank was delirious after his transplant, he apologized to “Fiona” for forgetting about her and Lip. He said he’d take her to Claire’s to get her ears pierced with a little waggle of his eyebrows. And it makes me wonder: was that why she was still taking care of him in earlier seasons? Why he was still welcome in the house until he hurt Ian and Jimmy dumped him in Canada? Even why she spent time with him when she was at her lowest in s9? Was the final bridge burned when he called to get the kids taken away from her and scattered into the system? Or did it come sooner and the tenuous tethers of their familial obligations simply held them together during convenient or necessary trials ever since?

Then there’s Lip, who definitely has a complex relationship with Frank similar to Ian’s with Monica. He followed Frank around to taunt him when he left the house; in his own very Lip way, he seemed to write him off without being too concerned about his behavior, except more egregious instances. Even in s2, when Frank and Monica spent the squirrel fund, it wasn’t Frank he seemed to be as angry at—it was Monica, and Fiona by connection since she wasn’t watching. But he still went out and had a good time with Frank when he graduated. He mentioned how he was so devastated when Frank tried to go sober before and let him down. Was that the moment and Lip was simply too irreverent and sarcastic at the time to shut that door with extreme prejudice? Was his version behaving in a superior manner or like he wasn’t worth the effort until Frank made genuine trouble? Was celebrating his graduation a form of reclaiming some of what he never had that time Frank sobered up: a father who was proud of his achievements, even if only for a day?

Ian has to be the most complicated of them all. In the pilot episode, he didn’t seem upset to say Frank hates him, but he did appear somewhat disappointed about it—or, perhaps, disappointed that he didn’t know why. For the most part, with the exception of his open trepidation when Frank turned on him in 1x02, Ian is consistently indifferent to Frank’s presence unless there’s reason to behave otherwise. He didn’t revel in the hijinks about or making fun of him after he returned from Canada, nor was he relieved to discover that he is, in fact, not Frank’s biological son. He joined the toast at the Alibi during Kev and V’s fake wedding, and he joined in the celebration when they successfully convinced those thugs that Frank was dead. He didn’t blow up at Frank’s indiscretions or missteps with the family to the extent that Fiona did, though. In fact, aside from hauling him to the yard or dumpster with Lip, trying to stop Frank and those drunks from going upstairs in s3, or grabbing the beer back in s2, we mostly don’t see him vehemently oppose Frank on his own until much later when he threatened to hit him with a baseball bat if he didn’t get out. (That may have precedence, though, since Frank said he never counts to three.) So, I wonder: did Ian even have the tiny moments with Frank that the rest of his siblings did at any point before the show’s narrative began? Was there ever talk of coming to one of his events at school or getting him a special treat to make up for something? He never really mentions it, which isn’t necessarily evidence one way or another as Ian is a very private person who doesn’t tend to speak a great deal about the past. Perhaps there was and he prefers not to dwell on it. Contrarily, perhaps all he has is a chat in a gay bar and Frank’s quasi-pep talk after he caught Ian with Mickey. And if the latter is true, then why was Ian so different? Fiona said he looks more like Monica than the rest of them, but what if she had it wrong? What if, even though Frank didn’t consciously know about Clayton and Monica, the fact that Ian looked so much like the brother he didn’t talk to anymore had him unconsciously pulling away? In that case, how would Ian feel if that hadn’t been the case—more like Lip or Fiona, or the same as always?

Something I’m very interested to see as we enter s11, especially with some of the summary information, is whether we’ll find out more about Frank’s history with the kids. I don’t expect it to happen and would be pleasantly surprised if it did, just as I don’t anticipate relationships to be fixed: they seem happy with what they have, the ups and the downs and the downright strange. That’s the most important part.

Nothing Frank does will ever make up for what he put his kids through, and I definitely believe that he is incapable of changing on a fundamental level as we’ve seen him try and ultimately fail long-term. Even so, I’m very curious about his relationship with Fiona, Lip, and Ian in particular.

#shameless us #Frank Gallagher #Fiona gallagher #lip gallagher #Ian gallagher #shameless meta #please note: this is not designed to be an attack on the writers for not putting this in the show #it wouldn’t have fit authentically #I’m just curious and decided to meta it out

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ae0nx · 4 years ago

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FRUITS BASKET S3 EPISODE 1 + 2 RECAP!

Yayyy! Season 3! Finally! I’m hoping this season will make me understand/sympathise with Akito and maybe even Shigure a little bit more because... honestly? My opinions on episode 2?... I might get some flack for my opinions on them... 😬

But, first: I’d like to appreciate how on the Funimation app we got a little interview/message from a few of the english dub VAs! Specifically Colleen Clinkenbeard, Jerry Jewell, Eric Vale, Ian Sinclair and Brina Palencia (Akito, Kyo, Yuki, Kureno and Isuzu). And it was nice seeing some of their opinions of the characters they play and how much they’re emotionally invested in the story. (Ian’s such a nerd ‘I wanna see giant mechs later this season’ 😂 - I lowkey stan him lol)

You should definitely check it out if you’re interested in what they would have to say!

ANYWAYS, let’s get into it...

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EPISODE 1

I really love this depiction of the original zodiac and how you can just tell from the tone of the scene how desperately the God of the Zodiac was clinging on to these connections that they had with the participants in the banquet. How much they clung on to and loved the cat... Also, interesting how Tohru’s narrating this scene... almost like she can relate to the desperation of wanting to keep things the same... but we’ll get to that later. But also, Tohru is a God

This new opening is beautiful, I love the way that camera moves around the still illustrations and how the general tone just hammers down that... this season is gonna be some real shit lol (which makes me nervous for the opening for the second half 😳). It’s so warped and the general blue, grey and black tone that follows around every Akito scene we get in the anime has bled into every scene in this opening concerning the rest of the zodiac. Almost... like something is decaying. It’s great, it’s just very sad lol. I love the song tho, issa bop.

One of my favourite things in stories is when we get a bigger villain than the ‘pronounced’ villain of the story. Ren’s introduction through a manicured outstretched hand towards Kureno and Hatori is so weirdly gross in what it insinuates (especially when you apply her connection with Shigure) but again... I wanna know why she’s such an asshole to Akito specifically besides the bad mental health management within the Sohma compound. I have an inkling of what it is through memory of the manga, but like Akito and Shigure... I just wanna understand why.

Also, Ren is gorgeous and I’m sorry for simping.

I mean... she’s kinda got a point? She just didn’t need to be so mean about it lol. It’s pretty clear that the connection the zodiac have to each other is real and something they cannot control. BUT, wouldn’t it be easier if this connection wasn’t perpetuated by outer circles of the family and if Akito herself wasn’t so cruel about it? But, I guess Akito - through her relationship with her mother - kinda doesn’t know how to genuinely show love and affection. (Which brings me into my thoughts of how the manga ends and how I kinda... have a few problems with it which I will get to... when that comes lol)

Lol - weeeeeeeee! (flashes back to Tohru being yeeted into the river). Is this a part of Akito’s god-like powers?!

Again. She’s got a point! They’ve both got a point. But, they’re both the source of the problem. It’s really painful to see two mentally ill people duke it out. This whole institution is just rotten.

- I am super curious about what Akira’s relationship was like with the zodiac and if it was just as dark. I’m gonna assume it slightly already was, as the exclusion and degradation of the cat curse is already dark in itself but maybe the rest of the zodiac were just fine with how things were? I dunno if we actually will get the full backstory of Akira and his zodiac but I’m definitely intrigued

Ok, but if four crying children came up to me after I’d just consummated with my partner to reach out at my stomach chanting ‘we’ve been waiting for you’. That would disturb me and scar me for a while too so... 😂. I know it’s supposed to be ethereal and spiritual but... dude, wtf lol

...I don’t like how much I’m into Ren being such a Villain™ 😅

- Akito being seen as a crying child by the older zodiac members has always been interesting to me because yes, they could see her as that through mainly the age gap, general empathy and the way she sometimes irrationally acts out. But, also the depiction of Gods being seen as children having tantrums has being reflected in many different beliefs and myths (especially Greek Mythology) and I just like the fact that this all powerful, all knowing being would be compared to a child. It gives you a different perspective on power.

- Is the paper note in the CD case that Kureno gave back to Tohru an extra addition or was it always there?...

Mannnn... I really wanted Isuzu to fuck shit up after seeing Tohru so upset but... *le sigh* (outfit’s still on point)

But, I’m so glad we get an equal Ethereal Goddess to save Tohru! HANAJIMA! We love her, we stan her. <3

- ‘Tohru will be in my custody’ 🤣 I personally think Hana’s bluntness was a kindness in her conversation with Yuki because if I found Tohru upset? I’d automatically start firing metaphorical shots at everyone in that house

- Shigure fearing Hana makes me sleep better at night <3

Hana’s just like ‘hmm... sounds like someone I know... 👀’ I’m here for this parallel between Tohru and Kureno in the hopes that Tohru doesn’t ever get in as bad a situation as Kureno. Ahhh... Kureno... (Also, Laura Bailey was killing it in this scene as always)

- Hmmm... there’s something terribly poetic about Kyo saving Tohru’s scarf from oncoming traffic... but also, Kyo can’t help himself aha

KWEEEN! I love this look for Uo, it’s very Kyoko. I already said this in Season 1 but I STILL need to get wool-lined jacket. Outfit Appreciation goes to her - 3.5 stars.

<3<3<3 Friendship is magic!

- Megumi is such a good egg as always! From him going to get Uo to him being so wise with his outlook on love and how it takes time to really flourish. The best!

- This whole episode ends really nicely from Tohru’s return home and Kyo washing and returning Tohru’s scarf and Yuki being happy to see Tohru and Shigure being somewhat decent. It was nice to get a bit of relief after the tornado of emotions

Also, this was a nice screencap! Even Kyo is smiling!!! :))))

EPISODE 2

*takes sip of wine* ...ok.

👀... later lol

This scene really highlighted how Tohru is starting to see Shigure and the whole zodiac curse in a new and darker way. For the first time, it felt like Tohru was a little bit more guarded around Shigure and I hope they delve more into this season. Her description of her feeling around the curse being like a ‘dark well with no bottom in sight’ is pretty spot on. Ugh.

Aw! Is this the last we’re getting of Small!Momiji?! I love them :3 (Momiji’s shorts look a little shorter too, like he’s growing out of them ahaha)

- I haven’t found the Yuki fan club funny since their first scene in the anime but their poor disguises made me chuckle

- Yayyy! Kyo has an obsessive fan club too? ...Yay?? 😅 haha

- ‘I won’t kill them but they can go to hell’ why is Kyo speaking like me?! 😂

The fact that we got a scene of Yuki kinda admirably looking at a group of friends (boys and girls) playfully physically interacting and he unconsciously reaches out to Machi almost like he forgot about the curse? Heart eyes... 🥰

Again. Relatable. 😂 God, Yuki. You really are an airhead. Bless your soul. <3

And that look says it all. Damn. Kyo’s sense of hopelessness is heartbreaking but I still stand by it being understandable considering his circumstances.

Kyo freaking out about Tohru being visually upset was super cute but I couldn’t even appreciate the fluff because the whole scene had such a morbid tone to it, despite it being so visually romantic:

KYO’S FACE!!! 💔 Ahhh, my emotions!!!! Also, that shot from Tohru’s perspective under her bangs is great.

- Poor Mitsuru, I’d ask for extra pay just for dealing with Shigure’s ass.

Hahah - what a great metaphor!

- Now that Shigure’s ‘true form’, so to speak, has been fully exposed all his comments that are supposed to be teasing come off so much more awful. Him insinuating Mitsuru wasn’t ‘upper class’ enough for Ritsu was awful

COLLLDDDD. AS. IIIIIIICE. But seriously, Shigure this whole episode was cold in many different ways but I definitely felt this personally since I’ve been told something like this by a family member before... 😕 Also, it’s just gross how both Shigure and Akito are taking their own personal issues and mistrust of each other out on to other people. The curse and the institution behind the curse complicates a lot of feelings for sure, but there’s a difference between wrong and right and I get the general feeling that they both are just using the muddy waters to their advantage. Although, I feel like Shigure is taking more advantage of this than Akito but I’ll get into that in a bit.

- There’s also something about this episode that made me sympathise a lot more with Kureno in a more understandable way. But, it also makes me question the ending of this whole story and the resolutions that happen and what life for the whole Sohma institution/family looks like after the curse has broken.. I guess, I should read ‘Fruits Basket Another’ after this, huh?

😳... Shigure is so petty, man. Really?!

So...

I hate this relationship. I’m sorry. I know there are loads of people who like this relationship. And I’m still giving myself space for the show and the story to convince me why it’s worth it. But... I really don’t like this relationship. It’s so toxic. In so many ways. And in a weird way, this scene made me feel a LITTLE bit more for Akito than Shigure. It feels like Shigure gaslights everyone in his life but none no more than Akito, herself. I hate the fact that he keeps saying he loves her while hurting her or disregarding her. You know, almost like he’s treating her like a child. But on the other hand, I hate the fact that Akito has lowkey gaslighted herself into thinking she can treat people however she wants because she is ‘God’. I understand this is part of the way she was brought up and it seems like life in the Sohma compound has been very isolating for her so there’s been no one really to show her better (or have the confidence to show her better). But, at least I can be a little bit more sympathetic on her side than Shigure’s. I dunno... it’s just all very ugly and toxic and I’m hoping that it’ll turn around somehow.

I just hope it’s not one of those relationships that are ‘so good cos it’s so bad’.

...I’ll briefly talk about the ending theme to end this on a good note lol:

I really like this ending! I dunno if they’re gonna have two endings and two openings for this season but this ending definitely feels like it should’ve gone in the second half as it’s almost spoiler-y? But, then again what anime opening and ending isn’t packed with spoilers lol

All the illustrations are gorgeous, I’m assuming they were drawn by Takaya-sensei herself as it seems very much in her current style of artistry but my favourite illustrations are definitely the ones shown above! <3

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Ahhh! Fin! Sorry, about this one being super long and you probably having to scroll past a whole lot on your dash 😝 As usual, I had a lot to say. I’m open to hearing from people who actually like Shigure and Akito’s relationship btw, it’s just that everything before and episode 2 just really didn’t sail the ship for me, personally. I do want to understand! Haha

See you soooon!

#fruits basket #furuba #fruits basket season 3 #fruits basket 2021

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years ago

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Ian's idea of giving up smoking on doctor's orders was to cut down from sixty a day to thirty … and on instruction he reduced his intake of Vodka Martini from three lethal doses to one. He was very shaky, his normally brick-red complexion the dry mauve of a paper flower.

- AIan Ross, Coastwise Lights

Fleming was 56 and indifferent about living longer. He once revealingly described his own character thus: "I've always had one foot not wanting to leave the cradle and the other in a hurry to get to the grave." This strange mixture of the infantile and the world-weary seems very typical of the man. A few months earlier he had been visited by Evelyn Waugh. Waugh was a friend of Fleming's glamorously waspish wife Ann and didn't like Fleming much. The feeling was mutual. Waugh wrote to Nancy Mitford: "[Ian] looks and speaks as though he may drop dead any minute. His medical advisors confirm the apprehension."

Where did this implicit death wish come from? In some ways it's a very English slow suicide – one that Waugh, incidentally, was also participating in – obesity, cigars, alcohol and assorted drugs hastening him to an early grave two years after Fleming. Yet, on paper, Fleming had everything to live for. Born into a rich and well-connected Scottish banking family, he went to Eton, briefly to Sandhurst and then became a remittance man, notionally working in the City – "the world's worst stockbroker", in his own estimation – enjoying pretty girlfriends, fast cars and foreign holidays. After the war, during a spell at the Sunday Times, he began to write the James Bond novels, one a year from 1953 to his death. To new global fame could be added even more riches. Why was he so unhappy?

It's hard to explain this taedium vitae when it seems that most of life's injustices, hassles and difficulties – large and small – have been erased by wealth. A few biographers and friends have said Fleming couldn't get over the second world war. I think this rings about true.

For many of his generation the war was both a gigantic upheaval and an astonishing adventure in his life, an unparalleled episode in which he had found himself and felt his work had been both meaningful and useful. In other words, during the war, paradoxically, he had been happy. When it was over the meaninglessness of his feather-bedded existence slowly re-established itself.

Fleming's good fortune was to be recruited in 1939 into the Naval Intelligence Division as personal assistant to NID's head, Admiral John Godfrey. He had a rank in the RNVR – commander – wore a uniform and went to work in the Admiralty. Everything about his life had changed. As a result of this key role and position he not only was connected to the very centre of the secret world of spies and spying but he could also actively participate in it – travelling to France and Spain, the US and Canada – suggesting ideas and schemes as they came to him, some of which were taken up and provided notable covert successes.

The most remarkable and lasting of these was his suggestion that a special commando be set up – a small group of intelligence-gathering raiders – who would attack and plunder targeted German establishments – radar stations, Kriegsmarine offices, naval installations and the like – and "pinch" anything that that might be useful – code books, movement orders, bits of Enigma machines and so forth.

The force that was established as a result of Fleming's brainwave was called the 30 Assault Unit, a commando that saw its first operation during the disastrous 1942 raid on Dieppe. Fleming was on board a destroyer not far from the beaches during the raid and it was not an auspicious start, as even he had to admit, but 30AU was to prove itself invaluable in north Africa, Sicily, Italy, Rhodes, Yugoslavia, the invasion of France – and, most effectively, in Germany during the final days of the Third Reich when, among the wholesale larceny of German technology that was taking place as the war ended, its most audacious "pinch" of all was achieved, namely, the entire archive of the German Navy – the Tambach Archives, a vast document haul that weighed more than 400 tons.

As well as being intrepid fighters it seemed as much a requisite of joining 30AU that the soldiers possessed strong, not to say eccentric, personalities. These included such extraordinary men as Bon Royle, Lofty Whyman, Patrick Dalzel-Job, "Sancho" Glanville and Peter Huntington-Whitely among others. Together they went on audacious exploits from 1942 onwards.

Many of 30AU's pinches facilitated the code-breakers of Bletchley Park. Captured Enigma machines, cipher books and coded messages were sent back for analysis and, as the code-breakers grew ever more efficient at their work, it is clear that Fleming's commandos actively aided the general war effort and possibly shortened the conflict.

The commandos were unaware of the actual contribution and long-term effects of their looting – as, probably, was Fleming. He remains something of a background figure to the group itself. Fleming occasionally visited the men on the front line (and complaining about the quality of the brandy he was served) and not much loved, it has to be said. This again is probably a result of a particular trait of the privileged English classes. Fleming found it hard to mix with others outside his own society and to express emotion, like many of his peers, and cultivated instead the very English phenomenon of putting on a façade of nonchalance.

If the war made Fleming feel fulfilled as a man it also provided him with a vast store of memories that consciously or unconsciously fed into the plots, characters and situations of the novels themselves. "M" in the novels is a portrait of Fleming's old NID boss Admiral Godfrey. The "Lektor" machine in From Russia with Love is clearly modelled on the Enigma encryptors.

An old 30AU member, Tony Hugill, became a minor character under his own name in The Man with the Golden Gun, and so on.

Most telling of all is the late story Octopussy that can be interpreted as a deliberate self-portrait of the author as embittered, self-loathing drunk, living off the capital of his war.

For Fleming, one feels, nothing ever matched the intensity and excitement of his life between 1939-45 and all his worldly success after it could not drive away his demons. His wife, Ann, described him in his last days as living in a state of "total misery".

Alan Ross, however, an old friend and together they would watch Sussex cricket at the Hove would write his own memoirs of his dear friend. Ross just saw another multifaceted and complex man and also a naval officer in the war: "Not many of [Fleming's] wife's friends cared for him, a feeling that was reciprocated, but to me he was a good and entertaining friend and I missed him greatly."

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mashounen2003 · 4 years ago

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Sonic opinions - 2

In large portions of every fandom, it looks like it prevails the idea that you can only take one of two positions: praising the story in every respect, including both the ideas themselves and their execution by the writers, or admitting not to like the story and not to praise any element of it at all. I think my ideas regarding the Archie-Sonic comics and the Sonic franchise in general cannot be pigeonholed into either of these two extremes.

More below the "keep reading" cut.

I loved all the world-building in Archie-Sonic, the elements the comic introduced, their many characters and the potential to tell stories about them; I also really liked much of the art and personal styles of several artists Archie-Sonic has had throughout its history, with very few exceptions (and such exceptions include Ron Lim, of course). That's why, of all the Sonic continuities, I often use the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic comic as the primary source for world-building elements and story ideas.

What really makes me feel bad about that comic, what motivates most of my criticism, is the ideas’ execution by the main writers, as well as aspects that I think are more linked to each writer as a person, the unique way in which each of them has written their stories.

Firstly, Michael Gallagher: the writer for the first few dozen issues of the comic had a terrible sense of humour, and this hurt the comic hugely since those first issues were fundamentally based on that low-quality comedy style. The characterization of the entire cast also suffered greatly from this; in Sally's case, something quite ironic happened too: Gallagher portrayed her as bossy, annoying, temperamental, usually bickering with Sonic, and now that's also how Sally is seen by many fans of the videogames’ continuity (at best). Other than this, not much more could be said about him.

Karl Bollers wrote quite decent stories with some nice comedy, with “Return to Angel Island” being his best work, one of the best stories in the entire comic and perhaps even one of the best in the franchise; but Bollers’s work was "torpedoed" by Ken Penders and then-editor Justin Gabrie, which ruined the stories’ final versions sometimes or led to elements introduced by Bollers being "retconned" and overwritten by whatever Penders smoked and decided to do when taking over. The characterization of Fiona Fox is one of the main examples, with Bollers's Fiona being a quite under-utilized character but with a great potential that would later be wasted by both Penders and Ian Flynn. Another similar case was Sally breaking up with Sonic: Bollers tried to give context to such a drastic decision by Sally and show how she was the one who was suffering the most at that time and also that both she and Sonic were partially right, but Penders and Gabrie didn't let Bollers develop this subplot properly and all we had was a quite infamous scene that unfairly made Sally one of the most hated characters. It’s also known of several plans Bollers had for future stories, and one of them was Antoine being corrupted by the Source of All and turning into a villain; this had the potential to be a good story by subverting the concept of the Source of All and making it an actual threat, but on the other hand, it’d have meant resorting once again to the resource of "this character isn’t doing anything, let's make them evil", something quite disappointing, which later would have disastrous results when Flynn did the same with Fiona a few years later. However, these plans of Bollers were just ideas, and the quality of a story created from them still depends a lot on execution. In the end, I can't say anything about how good or bad Bollers was as a writer, simply because I have no way of knowing what his stories would have been like if he had been given more freedom and had stayed as the writer longer.

There were two writers who influenced Archie-Sonic comics far more than any other writer in its history: Penders and Flynn. The first of them was a retarded pervert with an overly inflated and fragile ego. He became obsessed with the primitive, toxic ideal of "family" North-Americans have. He wrote nonsensical, contradictory stories, having already decided the end down to the last detail long before even thinking about how the story would come to that end (I also made this specific mistake a few times when I was just starting to write fanfiction, I must admit). He increased Fiona's age in order to be able to pair her with the Don Juan that Sonic had become, which also ruined Fiona's characterization forever. The issues 150s -right before being replaced by Flynn- were the worst part of Penders’s run, as Bollers was no longer there to put a stop to his madness in any way, and it was at this time when there was the most egregious case of Penders pouring into the comic his worst perversions and retarded ideas: he hinted at a sex scene in one of the most infamous cases in the history of the entire Sonic franchise, although it wasn’t infamous for the implied sex per se but rather because what happened was technically a rape by deception; to add insult to injury, the writer implicitly blamed the victim some years later when asked about it on Twitter.

I could go on talking about “Ken Perverts”, but I think that's not necessary and would be a waste of time since, as everyone here already knows, he's been the laughingstock of the entire Sonic franchise for years; @ponett even has a whole secondary blog, @thankskenpenders, mainly dedicated to this. On the other hand, there’s still another writer who has also contributed a lot and also made huge mistakes but is not criticized in the least by almost anyone, simply because he was better than Penders.

Ian Flynn usually reduced the characters to slightly oversimplified portrayals, similar to the personalities of the characters in the most recent videogames. Under his pen, Sonic was more sympathetic but his words sometimes sounded too empty and shallow, his apologies for past mistakes didn’t lead to genuine changes on his part, and sometimes he even seemed plain insensitive to all the tragedies happening around him, especially at the Mecha Sally Arc (I nickname Ian Flynn’s Sonic "Plastic Smile" for this). Admittedly, this had already happened several times with previous writers (Penders portraying Sonic as a Don Juan, as I already mentioned), and this is why I think the original Sonic from Sonic SatAM was always better for feeling more "genuine", less "empty", and more heroic and likeable as a result. Perhaps the only ones to escape the oversimplified portrayal have been Shadow and E-123 Omega, whose characterizations in Archie-Sonic were the best in the whole franchise.

Besides, Flynn had strong favouritism for Amy Rose, which only made things worse because this Amy was much more similar to the one in the videogames from Sonic Heroes onwards. Anyway, this also happened with previous writers, like when Amy wished to be younger at the cost of a chance to save Sally's mother and no one ever berated her for it.

Let’s look at the villains. Unlike the typical Eggman from the videogames, with his follies, eccentricities and other absurd aspects, the Robotnik “inherited” by the comic from Sonic SatAM was explicitly a genocidal bastard and crueller while at the same time being sane enough to realize everything he was doing (@robotnik-mun already spoke in detail about this once); however, Flynn tried to combine the two characters into the pre-reboot Archie-Sonic Eggman, and the result created some severe problems with the stories’ tone. Something derived from this was how Sonic let Eggman live and even felt sorry for his fall into madness, in addition to treating him as if they were the Sonic and Eggman from the videogames, Sonic X or Sonic Boom; it’s worth remembering this Eggman technically is a sort of reincarnation of the SatAM Robotnik (his exact nature is quite complicated and includes parallel universes, but yes, he’s supposed to be exactly the same as the SatAM Robotnik, with memories and everything) and this Sonic is supposed to have fought a bloody decade-long guerilla war against him just like his SatAM counterpart.

Scourge was turned into a massive Mary-Sue who achieved easy victories, as subtle as a huge neon sign saying "the bad guys win"; he was also an abusive manipulator towards Fiona Fox, and Flynn was unable to show that properly for fear of making his pet look no longer cool, which makes you wonder how alike Flynn and Penders might actually be in some ways. To clearly understand the horrible damage this has caused: it not only created a generation of young Sonic fans -mostly boys from the USA- who romanticize abuse either consciously or unconsciously, but also there are even women -including scholars, committed feminists and transgender people who are also activists for social justice- who either sympathize with Scourge or think Fiona made a right, wise, rational or informed decision by joining him in the story (I’ll not give names of those women, I’m not really eager to get into heated fallacious discussions about “the true meaning of Feminism”); to top it off, among the writers who started working with Ian Flynn either on IDW-Sonic or the last years of Archie-Sonic, there’s at least one person who got the job of writing official Sonic comics after gaining quite a bit of fame with a fan-comic where they used the pairing of Scourge & Fiona to inspire its readers to feel sorry... for Scourge. And speaking of Fiona specifically: the subplot of her career as a villain was ill-conceived, was built by using as a cornerstone the A-story of Issue #150 (that quite infamous and widely known story written by Penders where Scourge may or may not have raped Bunnie by deception), and was also seemingly "abandoned" as Fiona ended up merely being Scourge's new abuse victim girlfriend and her status as a traitor didn’t even have a significant emotional effect on the Freedom Fighters.

Flynn also followed something like a pattern of taking tropes from famous works and then using them when writing the comic but not actually understanding why those tropes had worked in the first place. Perhaps the prime example of this was Scourge giving Sonic the Joker's "One Bad Day" speech: it almost felt a bit like giving the same speech to the Batman of Batman vs. Superman, as Sonic had already had a whole "bad decade" and was still a hero despite it; also, Sonic's answer to that speech (telling Scourge it only takes a tiny bit of selflessness and decency for him to be a good person) wasn’t that great, not at all compared to the mildly masterful answer Batman had originally given to the Joker in The Killing Joke, and it even made Sonic look more like a bad judge of character.

Lastly, the entire Mecha Sally Arc was poorly planned, had some contradictions with itself and with previous stories, was stretched through dozens of comic issues no matter if that felt forced, and the main events and plot twists throughout the story arc were heavily based on shock-value without giving any substance to this or making it a bit more sense when putting it under scrutiny; meanwhile, Flynn always seemed to have quite a hard time when writing long story arcs, so these long stories looked like he was trying and outright failing to imitate Toriyama (someone quite known for putting together stories ad-lib according to what seemed most convenient at the time).

Despite this, it looks like those Sonic fans who are still interested in material outside of the videogames will keep buying and reading whatever Ian Flynn or one of his colleagues writes, simply because they’re better than Penders... even though it's been 15 years since Penders wrote something official about Sonic. Seriously, we should have gotten over it by now, instead of continuing to compare all material in the franchise with Penders's work, which sets the bar too low for any official content creator. Now that I think about it, Penders's work is to the North-American Sonic canon what Sonic 2006 is to the videogames: people can criticize the latest games all they want, and rightfully so, but if someone even casually mentions Sonic 2006, any Sonic game from 2010 onwards instantly becomes a masterpiece just for being marginally better than Sonic 2006; the same happens between Penders's work on pre-reboot Archie-Sonic and any other North-American Sonic comic written by Flynn after Penders left.

Right now it looks like it's also forbidden to criticize Flynn as a writer at all just because he's much nicer in his personal life and engages with fans more directly through his podcasts, or because Flynn is truly progressive while Penders claimed to be progressive and a feminist and was affiliated with the USA Democrats but his work showed how misogynistic, perverted, retarded, reactionary and downright sick he was. Also, now saying something about Flynn other than total blind admiration for him and his work, even asking for the Freedom Fighters to return in the IDW comics, has become synonymous with agreeing with those assholes who cry "Rally4Sally" or "Udon4Sonic" on Twitter: "nostalgic" fans of SatAM and Penders's work on Archie, in their 40s or 50s, deeply conservative and absurdly paranoid, who claim that those new inclusive cartoons such as Steven Universe or She-Ra "are ruining their childhood", are mad at Flynn just because he hinted Sally and Nicole may be a lesbian couple (and in a rather platonic way, not even romantic in the traditional sense), and try to justify their own warped ideas and fantasies about SatAM by ignoring any “liberal” political messages SatAM may have had at the subtext level.

#sonic fanfiction by mashounen #sonic opinions by mashounen #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #archie sonic #sonic comics #sonic satam #michael gallagher #karl bollers #ken penders #ian flynn

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