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jaskiersvalley · 4 years ago

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🌼~BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out.~🌼

This has been in my inbox for quite a while so I really hope you're still in the fandom XD As thank you for your kind message here is something really rather silly.

It had all started out with the stupid raccoon that rifled through Jaskier's bins. The mess it left behind was unbelievable, like a small, localised tornado had been by, specifically over Jaskier's bins. No matter what he did, how he weighed down the lids, there was a mess every morning. At first Jaskier tried to be more conscious of what he threw away, less food in the bins, even ate more healthily because the raccoon seemed more interested in sweet things most nights. Except for the time it seemed to go absolutely feral with the tiny styrofoam shapes from a delivery Jaskier had. When nothing else worked, Jaskier got locks on his bins. However, his raccoon must have been working out because the locks were forced off his bins and the jumper he'd put in the bin because of a hole in the elbow had disappeared. That was when Jaskier decided to invest in a wildlife camera, this was a raccoon he needed to see.

Setting it up, Jaskier did feel a little foolish. It wasn’t like the raccoon came by every night and this time he really wanted to see it. The plan was to catch it with the net he’d invested in and relocate the little bastard somewhere that wasn’t his bins. To make sure he got the raccoon on camera, Jaskier set out a couple of honey drenched pastries to lure it in.

Sleep was difficult, Jaskier wanted to watch the camera but he was an adult and knew he needed to sleep. With great difficulty, he managed to get some rest and even succeeded in going in to teach rather than call in sick so he could watch his tape. Instead, he invited Valdo over to watch with him, knowing that his claims of a muscly raccoon would never be believed.

“Right, drinks, wine?” He asked, already grabbing a bottle and two glasses.

“I’ll order the pizza I guess,” Valdo replied, resignedly pulling his phone out. “Your usual?”

“Darling, I’m providing booze and entertainment in my home, you know the least you can do is buy me pizza.”

It was a tradition of sorts, Jaskier hated Valdo’s place, finding it too drab and grey. It didn’t matter that Valdo had magazine to prove that it was the latest fashion. And the bastard had the gall to say Jaskier was the one who pandered to the masses.

Now, they had wine in hand, the TV on and playing. Jaskier had to admit, it was pretty boring.

“Oh look, a moth,” Valdo drawled, sipping at his wine. “Maybe it flaps its wings so hard it messes with your bins.”

“Shut up.” The wine was disappearing at a steady rate and both their cheeks were getting rosy. Perhaps alcohol before food had been a rather unwise idea. “Here, I’ll speed it up until something comes along.” And something had to, the pastries were gone by the morning. They watched as moths, the odd cat and rat scuttled by.

“There!” Valdo yelled and pointed at the screen. As quickly as he could, Jaskier slowed it back down. They leaned forwards as one, seeing something large and dark move in the corner of the screen. Suddenly the darkness became a blur and both of them screamed, clutching at each other. A man stepped up to the pastries, hunching over the plate and stuffing them in his mouth at an impressive rate.

Just as they were over the shock, the man looked up. His eyes, like a cat, reflected the light as he looked at the camera, head tilted. Once again, Jaskier and Valdo screamed, leaping towards each other for protection, wine sloshing everywhere. It seemed the man had no idea what the camera was, giving it a good, long look before turning to have a rummage in the bins.

“That’s a really big fucking raccoon,” Valdo whimpered and Jaskier smacked him on the arm. “You’re going to need a bigger net.”

Laughing nervously, Jaskier shook his head. He didn’t know what to make of it, a large, long haired man with scary eyes had made a habit of rifling through his rubbish.

“Sleepover,” he declared. “You’re staying here. And we’re putting more food out.”

“You don’t want to encourage him! What if he’s, you know-” Valdo broke off, “-a vampire.”

“They’re not seen on films and their eyes don’t do that. Could be a shifter.”

“Sasquatch’s freaky cousin.”

“An eldritch horror!”

“A cryptid!” That actually seemed to fit. Still, cryptids needed feeding, Jaskier was not going to be mean. So far, other than his bins, nothing untoward had happened. “I’ll leave him some pizza.”

Drinking, Jaskier decided, was definitely not his best idea. He groaned as he sat up, Valdo snoring away next to him. He remembered most of their previous night and cursed; they didn’t just leave pizza, they left a note too.

Dear Mr. Cryptid, Please don’t eat us, eat the pizza instead. Love, Valskier

Rushing out, Jaskier saw that the pizza was gone, the note was crumpled on the ground and there was a bite missing from it. At least he now knew the shape of the cryptid’s bite.

“Wake up!” He poked Valdo in the side. “We need to watch this before work.”

It was the right choice. Jaskier spent the rest of the day thinking about the strange man with the even stranger eyes inspecting the pizza, giving it a sniff while the note was on top of it. And taking a large bite out of it all. While the pizza was given a second and third bite, the note had been inspected, given a lick before being cast aside. The camera also gave them a very good view of the man, bulging arm muscles, long, probably white or blonde hair. In short, Jaskier was fucked. He bought a whole cake and left it out that night.

The strange cryptid began to show up more regularly but at least he stopped making a mess of the bins. Jaskier tried leaving a few more notes but, after watching the man squint at the note before trying to take a bite out of each and every single one, he gave up.

“What’s the latest on your cryptid?” Valdo asked in the staff room. Rather than reply, Jaskier pulled his phone from his pocket and hit play on the video.

This time, it wasn’t his usual long haired cryptid man. Instead, it was two others with the same creepy eyes, scurrying past, snagging the hot dogs Jaskier had left out and shoving the bins over for good measure as they ran. His usual cryptid didn’t show up that night.

“I told you!” Valdo screeched, earning a few scathing looks. “You feed one and more come along.”

The following night, Jaskier put out more food, hoping it would be enough for everyone. He was almost scared to watch the footage the next day but was so glad he did. All three of the cryptids lingered near the camera, eyes flashing. However, Jaskier’s blood chilled when he spotted another pair of eyes in the background, watching but not approaching.

Looking back on the videos, he was appalled to find that an extra pair of glowing eyes was often in the background. Maybe it was a mate or a very shy cryptid. Either way, Jaskier wanted to see.

“Oh. It’s an injured one!” Jaskier breathed, appalled. He had upgraded his camera and had managed to turn the contrast up enough to make out a face. In a way, he almost wished he hadn’t because the sight was so terrible. The shy cryptid was scarred beyond belief, lip caught in a permanent snarl. He seemed the most distrustful of the camera, never approaching. But, once, Jaskier watched as a hand reached in front of the camera, snagged the sugar laden jelly pot and the camera was knocked askew. Just about visible after a few minutes was a broad back in a striped and spiked coat as it retreated. From then on, Jaskier made sure to leave soft foods out too.

“Didn’t you say your raccoon had a field day with styrofoam pellets?” Valdo asked. The school had taken a delivery of biology samples which arrived in boxes filled with the stuff. Together, Jaskier and Valdo poured as much of the pellets into a box as they could and they were left out alongside the offering of food.

That night, Valdo stayed over and neither of them slept. Instead, the TV showed the camera’s feed. It was about 3am, both of them were drooping when there was movement.

“Look!” Jaskier nudged Valdo who woke with a snort. On the screen, the original, long haired cryptid had a hand clasped around the wrist of the injured one and was dragging him into view. Behind them were the other two Jaskier had seen before. He gasped, “They’re a family, aren’t they?”

“They’re something alright. Maybe it’s cryptid double date night?”

Fascinated, they watched as the four of them inspected the box. It was the smallest of the lot, one of the two Jaskier had only ever seen together that stepped into the box, hands digging into the pellets. The grin on his face spoke volumes. The other once jumped in too, the two of them beginning to wrestled for who got to sit in the box. All while, the pellets were tumbling out, making the original cryptid and the scarred one hop back. They stared at the styrofoam like it had personally offended them. Without sound there was no way to hear it but Jaskier was convinced they hissed at it. Hesitantly, the scarred one picked up a couple and, without and warning, threw it in the air. They all darted away from it, glaring as it dropped. Once again, the smallest crept closer, darting in to pick up a handful and toss it into the air, sending them scattering again. However, when the styrofoam didn’t attack, he got braver, his mate stepping closer too. All too soon, they were all tossing handfuls of sytrofoam in the air and running around. It was all fun and games until the larger of the pair picked up the box and tossed it. The scarred one caught it but staggered and crashed into the bins.

Jaskier jumped as the clatter of his bins falling over rudely reminded him of just how close the cryptids were. It felt much more distant when they were just on his TV. Tense, he clutched at Valdo’s sweaty hand and they watched as the cryptids ran away from the scene. The next morning, Jaskier had so much styrofoam to clean up, he regetted ever listening to Valdo.

Now that he knew that the cryptids could play, Jaskier decided that they were probably intelligent beings, it was a simple matter of finding a way to communicated.

“I’ve written a will, told my parents I love them and cleared my internet browsing history,” he told Valdo. “If anything happens, you know which box in the bedroom to burn, right?”

“You crazy bastard, don’t go out there!”

Jaskier held aloft the tray of foods, trying to look self assured. “I have new friends to meet. Wish me luck.”

With that, he marched out, ready to settle in for a long wait, confident that Valdo would keep an eye on him via the camera. As he’d said, he had new friends to meet, he just hoped they wanted to meet him too.

#jaskier & valdo #jaskier #valdo marx #geralt of rivia #lambert #aiden #eskel #modern au #tldr: jaskier feeds some cryptids

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

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i saw that you at least used to write for harry could u do another? like maybe im just a basic bitch but 'only one bed' trope or sm

Summary: honestly just me shitty attempt at the only one bed thing ahah with Harry Holland x reader

no warnings I don’t think apart from my ramabling :)

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

God you were groggy. It had been a long 16 hour flight and you were well and truly completely over this day. Once you’d had some proper sleep, no doubt you will be beyond excited to explore the forest and beaches of this remote island in Indonesia. You were certain it was beautiful, even if you’d arrived in the dead of night so you couldn’t see any of the majesty yet. It was one of the joys of being Tom’s makeup artist - travelling the world and being paid for it? A literal dream.

Except maybe the previous 24 hours. The Holland name carried a lot of weight in the world, but not enough to control typhoons across the tropics - there were some limitations to his power. And yes first class lounges were nice but none had beds to crash on during the 6 hour weather delay. The four of you (Tom, Harry, Andrew and yourself) ended up camping out in a out-the-way corner. Tom got the long sofa; Andrew in one of those weird egg line chairs; you and Harry splayed on the floor. Why you’d had to get up at 4 am to catch a flight that was now not departing till 12 hours later actually hurt to think about - especially because you’d all gone out for a meal the night before that had inevitable went a lot later than planned.

Two connecting flights with a very angry baby later, the four of you were checking in to the only hotel on the island - which was now almost exclusively filled with the production team for Tom’s newest movie. It wasn’t especially big-budget with massive million pound overheads, instead a smaller scale indie film (that you privately thought might earn Tom a number of accolades). But yeh, shooting on an island that received almost no tourism meant everything was different to the usual. None more so than for Tom and his team (including you) who he normally would look after very well, with the nicest hotel rooms or rental homes.

The hotel was basic, you’d known that before you arrived but seeing is believing is it not? Most entertaining though, was seeing Tom’s face. Andrew was a well travelled older guy, he had stayed in some shitholes in his life. Equally you and Harry had both travelled when you were younger (you through inter railing and him in australia), so had stayed in hostels before. But for Hollywood star Tom Holland? The way he tilted his head to the side as if to say ‘really this place?’ did lift your spirits momentarily.

Andrew had got his key first, bidding you all good night with a grunt, then Tom - who still seemed confused as to the whole arrangements. It left you and Harry at the small dingy reception, the warm glow of an old lantern-esque light fixing illuminating the place. The guy behind the desk was a smiley local and greeted you warmly, if incorrectly.

“Ah and finally the couple I see!” He spoke with a thick accent but still very clear English which had you questioning if this was just a translational error. Harry looked at you instantly, his eyes wide which made you scoff - him joining in, shaking his unruly curly mop emphatically.

“No no we um… we aren’t together.” All the while Harry pointed between the two of you, communicating through actions rather than just the language, given that you were both the very typical Brits abroad who hadn’t learnt the language of the place they were visiting.

“Still under Holland name?” The guy asked in a perplexed manner, flicking through a book filled with cursive scribbles and scanning to see if he’d made a mistake. He checked one, then looked up nervously before checking the same page once again- you saw where this was going. ”We, we only have couples room down for you though? 3 double rooms is the booking for Holland.”

It was late, you both stunk of a combination of plane and BO, you both just wanted your individual and respective beds.

“Well can we get another room then?” Harry didn’t quite snap but there was still an impatientcy to his voice, which came out whenever he was a little agitated. Seeing the slightly worried look the mans eyes, you leaned onto the desk with a genuine smile.

“Sorry we know its last minute and its not your fault, we’ve just had a really long flight.”

“I am terribly sorry miss but we are only small hotel and Hollywood has filled us up. I have no other rooms. I am truly sorry sir, ma’am.” The guy went from looking worried to terrified as Harrys jaw tensed up, you naturally squeezed his arm to try and ground him, instantly deciding that you’d just work it out.

“No no it’s not your fault, don’t worry we’ll figure it out. Can I just get the key?”

Harry stepped back and let youtakeover proceedings, signing all the insurance documents etc and asking the man about the breakfast arrangements and such, though you saw him furiously typing on his phone and by the buzzing in your pocket- presumed he was messaging the group of you Tom, Andrew and himself.

Once finished the guy pointed you on your way, up two flights of stairs and down a hall. The whole time Harry was muttering about how useless the other two were for not replying and also for making the wrong booking in the first place. If only you hadn’t been the last two to checkin, then it would’ve been someone else’s problem.

He felt especially guilty just because you were the only girl- he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, hence why he was trying to locate his brother so they could share tonight till they got it figured out. The tension, combined with sleep deprivation, was palpable as you both walked in silence toward the room - Harry was trying to formulate a plan in his head as they did so. And honestly? You just couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. So, once you reached the door 57 holding the physical key (old school, rather than a key card) you just decided to address it.

“Will you chill please?”

“Well if my idiot broth-“

“Oh leave him be for god sake. If you’re okay with it I really don’t mind sharing with you tonight?” Not bothering to laugh at his slightly shocked expression with mouth hanging a little open, you fiddled with the key until the lock clicked open. From the entrance you had a pretty clear view of the whole room and… well, lets just say dated would be a fair expression - when compared to what you were used to? The floor was tiled and the bed was a small double, with some funky and slightly washed out prints of blue and red on the cover. The pillows looked a little limp, more like glorified pieces of cardboard than anything fluffy and comfortable. The walls were that yellowy magnolia shade that everyone in the UK had gone insane for in the 80s and there was an old school wooden wardrobe in the corner.

Home for 5 weeks.

With a shrug of your shoulders you entered, dumping your personal and work suitcases by the far wall carelessly - the higher priority action being to collapse on the bed. Doing so with an overdramatic huff, you let your eyes close but payed special attention to the delayed footsteps of Harry as he entered, then the slight creaking noise as he perched on the other side of the bed - no doubt looking at you, at least slightly fearfully.

The relationship between you and Harry was complex to say the least. Well no… it should be, not on the face of it. You had met through work and made friends. And you wished it was that simple but alas, nothing ever really is. When you’d first worked with Tom you were in the tail end of a relationship you had long since forgotten about - literally meaningless, not worth the time and effort you’d put into it. From the start you’d had a feeling Harry was more interested in you than the average co-worker (even if your job and therefore co-workers were anything but normal and average) but you were in a relationship so nothing ever came.

Then almost as if synchronised, just as you got out your relationship, Harry threw himself in the deep end with a girl he’d met through his family friends. Then the roles were somewhat reversed, you now spent a good chunk of your day just entertaining yourself with thoughts of the curly headed, slightly awkward, very-passionate-about-tea-making Holland. The cliche is so real - your always want what you cannot have.

However, a couple months ago his relationship had fizzled and faded away leaving both of you in a sort of no mans land. The sort of not wanting to ruin the friendship situation. The subject was never broached by either you - except you assumed he was being tormented in a similar way to how you were by his big brother and Andrew. Never publicly, yet whenever you found yourself alone in a room with one of them (being Tom’s makeup artist that happened often enough) there would always be a sly dig. The chemistry was so ‘obvious even a blind man could see it’. Somehow though, weeks of this and your were still stuck. Stuck in the middle.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice was gruffer and hoarser from the long journey but you could hear the self-consciousness and naivety in his tone, without having to peel your eyes open and look at his face.

“I know your not a murder and plus, we shared the airport floor this morning… this is pretty much the same.” He hummed in acknowledgement so you carried on “and plus your pint sized.” That earned you a playful shove in the side as you sniggered, before pulling yourself up so you we now sitting next to him, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. His brown eyes searched deeply into yours, as if physically checking for any hint of regret or hesitation. “Don’t even dare offering to go on the floor.”

“Okay okay okay!” Holding his hands up in surrender, you both laughed, breaking the peace of the late night of the remote Indonesian island. Once an impressive yawn interrupted you though, Harry proclaimed it was time for bed and shooed you into the bathroom to get changed and sorted.

Honestly you were too tired and lazy to dig out your cleanser and skin stuff, instead opting to just splash a bit of water on your face before swapping into your pj shorts and an old tattered oversized tee. Once done you and Harry swapped, him coming out a couple minutes later in basketball shorts and a black loose fitting tee.

It wasn’t awkward so to speak, more a sort of excited-tense atmosphere, which there was no doubt Harry was mainly responsible. The boy was jittery and on edge, which to put simply, you didn’t have the energy to reciprocate.

With a quiet wish of goodnight to each other, Harry flicked off the bedside lamp and you both rolled to your respective edges of the bed, a large space of no mans land between you. In the middle. You know the first time you share a room with someone and you overthink everything? When you don’t want to move about or fidget too much in case it disturbs the other? When your listening intently to their breathing, in the hope it’ll even out and only then will you feel able to fall asleep yourself?

Well it doesn’t work when both of you are doing it. When both of you are professional over thinkers.

God knows how long it took till you gave up, favouring sleep over your worries and concerns. So you flipped over, no doubt rocking the whole bed, turning to face his back that was still huddled almost teetering off the edge of the bed. The only light within the whole room was that coming under the actually scarily large gap between the floor and the door to the hallway. It was just enough to see the back of Harry’s curls and you must’ve fallen asleep trying to trace all the torturous and windy routes of the strands.

///////////

In the morning the process of waking up didn’t come easy to you as normal for many reasons; the long day prior; the jet lag; the weird surroundings. So you stayed in this sort of blissful haze for probably longer than you should. Half aware but not really; half asleep but not quite. In the middle of sleep and alertness. Therefore it took you longer than it should have to notice the extra weight on the dip of your waist. Not anything alarming, just a presence you were absolutely not used to. It was only when you shifted a bit to lie further on your back, that enough of a stimulus from the added pressure made you actually open your eyes blearily. And sure enough, a limp hand looked to have casually and unconsciously been thrown over your side.

As if in slow motion, you traced the arm backwards - first with your eyes, but then having to twist your neck too. Only then could you fully see the browny ginger haired boy who was lowkey spooning you? It was certainly a way to fully wake you up, breath halted to a stand still in your lungs, in fear of disturbing him and having to confront what would almost certainly be an awkward situation.

There was still a safe hands width distance between the two of you except for the rogue arm. Harry’s head was placed to the edge of his pillow, mouth slightly parted as his breathing slightly tickled the wispy hairs on the back of your neck. He looked so peaceful and calm - a difference to the normal Harry who, even on a good day, took great pleasure in meticulously picking things apart and being a bit cynical. It was part of his ‘charm’; but seeing him like this was a type of vulnerability he rarely chose to show.

To be fair he was asleep, he dint realise he was exposing himself in this way.

Finding yourself a little transfixed (a bit creepy but hey) on the natural curves and definition of his face, you ever so carefully rolled over in the bed to face him. It stopped you from craning your neck and gave the sleepy boy a slight nudge, making him tense his arm a little more tightly round you.

He settled quickly though, giving you ample opportunity to just observe what was going on . Both right in front of you… and what the hell was going on in your head. Because to be honest it was an overwhelming amount of emotion thoughts for the early morning.

Somehow you must’ve eventually drifted off once again because the next thing you were aware of was a shuffling from immediately next to you. This time though, you were instantly aware of exactly the situation you found yourself in and chose to keep up the pretence of sleep - a little interested in how Harry would play it.

You heard a small gasp, having to suppress a chuckle at what you imagined Harry’s sleepy and panicked face looked like. That lasted a couple of moments, before you felt him painstakingly slowly peel his hand from your waist and if you were being 100% honest… you heart sort of sank.

What you had been expecting?- you don’t know and really there was really no reason to be disappointed. Yet, you still felt this deflated and disappointed feeling, hit your chest especially hard. Perhaps it was because of your focus on that emptyness that you forgot you were supposed to be pretending to be asleep./.

Because when he had delicately brushed the side of your face to tuck a rogue bit of hair behind your ear - your eyes flickered open. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, Harry froze, his hand still hovering over your jaw. Equally, you didn’t know what to do. Because really… do friends tuck hair behind the others ears? And do friends look at each other with this matched expression of confusion and fear?

It took a painfully long time (though in reality was probably only a matter of seconds) before the boy retracted his hand, suddenly sitting up from his reclined position down at you. Mirroring his actions, you both ended up sitting, facing the opposite wall, bodies closer than they needed to be in the double bed. Both still very much in the middle.

“I er-“

“-No no don’t… was nice of you” He had been about to apologise which you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to hear ‘ I didn’t mean it’ - you wanted him to mean it. In response Harry nodded jerkily, and from your peripheries, noticed he was searching your face for any sign of emotion.

“Still can’t believe this all happened… I-I didn’t disturb you too much did I?” He sounded really nervous. You were never like this with each other. So static and forced.

“No no… I slept really good actually.” Your register was quieter, waiting till you’d finished speaking before looking over at him with a self conscious smile.

“Ah I’m glad… I um-I did too.” The silence returned and the atmosphere just felt sharp. It felt like you were quite literally walking either side of a knife edge. It made you chew on your bottom lip, playing with the slightly frayed edges of the vintage quilt.

“Y/n- I look…” He’d bolted upright and voice was more raised than normal for the morning. “This is gonna sound so fucking weird, especially cos we’re literally in the same bed but... but I was thinking we could maybe go on a hike or something together?” What he seemed to be suggesting didn’t match the level of panic that was conveyed in his body language which confused you. And what the bed had to do with it… was yet to make sense in your head.

“I think Andrew said we’re getting some tour of island this afternoon so-“

“ I kinda meant just you and me.”

The penny dropped and it had you focusing all energy on processing what was happening - understandably causing Harry to only worry more with the lack of response. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined ever-“

“No I-I….I’d really like that too.”

“Oh er… well… really?” The sheer shock made you giggle, feeling the two of you sliding back into the normal dynamic.

“Normally a boy has to buy me a drink before he gets in my bed but….” A mischevious smirk that spread across your lips gave Harry the final confirmation that just maybe you were interested too, making him scoff and quietly chuckle.

It was odd; mainly because this was the two of you being incredibly vulnerable and honest with each other - something that you hadn’t allowed yourself to be for fear of messing things up. And then one lazy morning, both with morning breath and slightly puffy eyes, it changed. For the first time when you looked at him, he really saw - and vice versa. You were still in the middle of something, yet it was completely different.

This time you were in the middle together figuratively as well as literally. In the middle of the bed, closer than you needed to be, but not wanting to retreat - while you both just looked shyly and bashfully at each… Eventually you lips hesitantly met in the middle.

#Harry Holland #Harry Holland fluff #Harry holland x y/n #harry holland x reader #tom holland

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

Text

Spellbinding (Chapter Three-Part Two)

Summary: (Y/N)’s magical training with Loki begins, and she begins to evaluate her growing feelings for her best friend.

Pairing: Loki X Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Three (Part II) April 29th, 2015 Avengers Tower, New York City (Previous Chapter)

Over the next couple of weeks, Loki helped (Y/N) acclimate to her new and overwhelming role as an Avenger. He gave her tours of different parts of the tower, introduced her to several teammates she hadn’t met yet, and read with her in her room when she grew tired or was feeling too uncomfortable with all the attention. Whenever (Y/N) wasn’t with Loki, she was slowly getting to know the rest of the team. While she got along fairly well with all of them, she was the most comfortable around Steve and Bruce; She and Steve initially bonded over their mutual love of classic films and history books, and Bruce was always kind enough to invite her down to the lab for lunch whenever she wasn’t busy with Loki.

The only Avenger that (Y/N) couldn’t stand being around, however, was Iron Man himself. It was no secret that (Y/N) and Tony disliked each other; it turned out the Artificial Intelligence system named J.A.R.V.I.S. had caught their first interaction on camera and the other Avengers had gotten a hold of the recording; they thought it was hilarious that the self-proclaimed playboy had gotten a well-deserved talking-to and Tony fumed because it had somehow gotten leaked to the others. (Y/N) suspected that Loki had something to do with its release but whenever she mentioned it to him, he’d only flashed her a mischievous smile and changed the subject. Thankfully, whenever Tony wasn’t on a mission he was either busy in the lab or off overseeing Stark Industries, so (Y/N) didn’t see him around very often.

Once her prescribed two weeks of rest were up, (Y/N)’s magical training began. She, Loki and Thor gathered together in the tower’s gymnasium; now that she knew the brothers were Asgardian gods, it was amusing to see them dressed in ‘Midgardian’ workout clothes. And it’s official, she thought as she subtly examined her best friend and his hoodie-basketball shorts combination, Loki looks handsome in just about everything he wears.

“Magic is nothing without concentration, Lady (Y/N). You must focus completely on the task you’re trying to accomplish, or you risk failing and perhaps overexerting yourself.” Loki paced before her with his hands clasped behind his back as he spoke, looking every part the serious instructor.

Thor spoke up, “What did you feel when you used your magic on that Hydra agent?” Thor was only there to observe and occasionally offer advice, but (Y/N) had found herself comforted by the older Asgardian’s supportive presence.

(Y/N) thought back to the incident at the library. “Well, I remember seeing the man and thinking ‘He’s going to hurt us.’ Then, I sort of instinctively raised my hands and felt a tugging in the pit of my stomach; that’s when I pushed him back with the purple magic and fainted.”

“The reason you fainted was because although you had the proper concentration on your target, you didn’t have a clear thought about what to do to him, which caused you to use too much magic.” Loki explained patiently. “When performing magic, you must keep two things in mind: Object and intent. That way, you can control how much magic you use and keep it from exhausting or killing yourself.”

“All right, object and intent. Got it.” She nodded in acknowledgement. “And will I always have to use my hands to perform magic?”

Loki tilted his head thoughtfully and stopped pacing. “I’m not sure. Since very little is known about your particular brand of magic, you may be able to eventually use both your hands and your eyes. It will undoubtedly take a great deal of practice to even reach that level so for the time being, you’ll only try and use your hands. Now, let’s begin, shall we?” He looked around the room, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Thor, do you remember what Mother used when she first taught us levitation, before you stubbornly quit to train as a warrior?”

“Ah, you mean when you used your tricks to make an illusion of a troll chase me around the palace and I decided that magic wasn’t to my liking?” Thor chuckled as his younger brother shrugged innocently. “If I recall correctly, Mother had us begin by practicing on statues in the gardens. I don’t think that will work for a Midgardian beginner such as Lady (Y/N), though; they’re too heavy.”

(Y/N) pointed at the rack of weights across the room. “What about those?”

Smiling, Loki went over and came back with a ten-pound weight in his hand. “Brilliant, Lady (Y/N)!” He set the weight in front of her and backed away to stand next to Thor. “Try and levitate this. Remember, object and intent.”

“Okay,” She took a deep breath and raised her hands. Her eyes never left the weight as she willed it to obey her. Nothing happened. Frowning, she stared down the weight until she felt a familiar tugging sensation in the pit of her stomach; the weight was all the sudden surrounded by a purple glow, rising about a foot in the air before landing back on the ground with a dull thud. “I did it!”

“Well done!” Loki was beaming, a hint of pride in his green eyes. “This time, levitate it and see if you can’t move it in other directions…”

Hours later, (Y/N) was drenched in sweat and her body ached all over, but she’d progressed to controlling fifty-pound weights to move around the room; Loki decided to call it a day when he and Thor were nearly smacked in the head by a wayward dumbbell.

“I know it’s your turn to read aloud but I don’t mind taking over; you’ve worked hard today, after all.”

(Y/N), who was lying flat on her back on the ground, groaned. “Thank you, Loki, that would be great; I wouldn’t want to stumble over my words.” Over the past week, she and Loki had taken turns reading poetry aloud to one another; since he enjoyed reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream so much she’d introduced him to her leather-bound collection of famous poems, which he’d instantly taken to. “Why didn’t you two tell me magic was so tiring?”

Loki only chuckled from his seat on the workout bench beside her. “Don’t fret, Lady (Y/N), magic becomes nearly effortless after a while. I must say, though, you’re learning quickly for a beginner, it’s impressive.”

“Loki’s right, your magic is stronger than I could have ever expected, Lady (Y/N).” Thor spoke as he sat next to his brother. “And I know for a fact that it’s nearly impossible to impress him.” He nudged his brother’s shoulder with his own. “Perhaps she’ll impress you again when her magic surpasses yours one day, brother!”

“I have no problems with that, Thor, just as long as she promises to use her magic to bludgeon you with dumbbells whenever required.” That made them all laugh.

(Y/N) clambered to her feet and stretched her arms. “Well, I’m going to go take a quick shower before we read; I’ll meet you in your room in an hour, okay?” After turning to leave, she turned around to face the brothers, specifically the eldest of the two. “And Thor, if you even think about eating my snacks while I’m in the shower like last time, I promise that I’ll tell everyone about your secret stash of Pop-Tarts.” Thor gulped nervously as she shifted her gaze to the younger brother. “Could you please protect my snacks from him, Loki?”

Loki nodded, giving her a mock-bow and a grin. “I shall endeavor to guard your snacks from all who dare threaten them, my lady!”

“Oh, my hero!” Playing along with him, she clutched her chest and looked up at the ceiling dramatically, earning another laugh from both men. “See you soon…”

She left the gymnasium and as she walked down the hall, she heard Thor remark, “Well, brother, I can certainly see why you-Ow! That hurt!”

Behind all the pranks and insults they seem to care a lot for each other, she thought with a smile as she made her way to the elevator. She’d spent the past couple of weeks silently observing the brothers, and despite being slightly intimidated by him during their first meeting, she’d grown quite fond of Thor. And although he’d never admit it to her, she began to think that Loki was wary of living in Thor’s shadow, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by prying. Pride filled her as she thought of his praise of her developing magical skills, and she couldn’t wait to learn more about her powers with him. Hopefully I won’t be as sore from now on, though, she thought with a wince when she stepped into the elevator and hurried off to enjoy a soothing shower.

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

A moment after she knocked, Loki opened his door of his suite with his usual grin. “Your snacks, my lady, kept safe from annoying oafs as promised.” He allowed her in and closed the door behind her before gesturing to his large sofa and coffee table piled high with food. “Make yourself comfortable.”

(Y/N) smiled and sat herself carefully on the cushions, sighing in satisfaction at how comfortable they felt to her still-aching muscles. His room was very similar to hers, except his had a distinct green and gold theme whereas hers was more lavender mixed with other pastels. “Thank you, Loki. I was wondering, have you ever tutored anyone else in magic before?”

He sat next to her, her leather-bound book in his hand. “Never. I’m simply attempting to channel everything my mother taught me about magic when I first began, though I’m afraid I’m not nearly as skilled as she is…”

“Well, I think you make a wonderful teacher!” Her pulse quickened when he smiled shyly at her compliment, so to distract herself she began nibbling on her granola bar. “Now, where did we stop yesterday?”

“Um…” Flicking through the pages, he found the page that was bookmarked. “Ah yes, ‘She Walks in Beauty.’” He cleared his throat and began reading aloud:

“She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes; Thus mellowed to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!”

(Y/N) sighed dreamily when he finished. “I’ve always thought that poem was brilliant. The way Lord Byron presents the woman’s beauty as a delicate balance between light and dark is so eloquent, and I love the conclusion he draws about inner and outer beauty living in harmony with one another. It’s very sweet how he describes this woman who he obviously has feelings for…” She trailed off when she noticed Loki smirking. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you’ve proven a theory of mine correct.”

“And what theory would that be, exactly?” Crossing her arms, she raised an eyebrow at him and tried not to smile at his smug expression.

“That you, Lady (Y/N), are a hopeless romantic.” Loki grinned triumphantly as a blush spread over her cheeks. “I suspected as much when you recommended Pride and Prejudice to me all those weeks ago; though you claimed you enjoyed the novel for the witty banter and period drama, it was obvious that you also enjoyed it for the romantic plot between Elizabeth Bennet and Mister Darcy.”

Shrugging noncommittally, (Y/N) retorted, “All right, I’ll admit that I’m a hopeless romantic…just as soon as you do.” His green eyes widened in surprise. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you flicking through Much Ado About Nothing the other day, and when you were reading ‘She Walks in Beauty’ just now you couldn’t keep the goofy smile off your face.”

Loki’s stunned expression shifted as he gave her a lopsided grin. “I suppose you’re right, Lady (Y/N). Though if word of that got out it would ruin my reputation as a terrifying, all-powerful god, wouldn’t you say?” He leaned closer and jokingly stage-whispered, “I promise not to tell anyone your secret if you promise not to tell them mine. Agreed?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Loki.” She felt as if she were melting under his intense gaze, and it wasn’t until her eyes involuntarily flicked to his lips did she realize how close their faces were. Quickly pulling away, she fumbled with the hem of her peasant-top and trained her eyes on the book in his lap, fully aware that her face was reddening as she pushed her glasses back up her nose. “So, um, shall we continue?”

She heard him clear his throat and reply, “Yes, of course, um, right…” He hastily picked the book up and flipped the page, the sight of him licking his finger to do so only causing her blush to deepen. “All right: ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud…’”

As he continued to read poem after poem, (Y/N) replayed everything that had happened in her mind. She’d nearly thrown caution to the wind and kissed her best friend. Over their three months of friendship, the small crush she’d been harboring for the Asgardian had developed into something much larger and though she wasn’t sure if what she felt was love, since she’d never experienced it before, she knew that her strong feelings could jeopardize their friendship. Besides that, he was an Asgardian, practically a god, and she was just an ordinary Midgardian who just happened to have a Light Elf for a mother; there was absolutely no chance of him possibly returning her feelings so at that moment, she decided to try her hardest to repress them for both their sakes and the sake of their friendship.

But maybe I’ll let myself enjoy today, she thought, tentatively leaning her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes, reveling in the feeling of being so close to him. To her surprise, he reached around her shoulders and pulled her closer, leaving his arm wrapped tightly around her as he continued to read. His soothing musical voice combined with the warmth he radiated and his unique scent relaxed and lulled her to sleep, but not before she heard him flip back several pages and read, “‘She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies…’”

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

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! In the text I included a link to a Youtube video of Tom Hiddleston reading ‘She Walks In Beauty,’ you should really give it a listen! I’ve also created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2wx8TZwpDN0l33tES3W3Nk

Chapter Four

Spellbinding Masterlist

Tagging: @nexiva @ravenclawbitch426 @cminr @confusedfandomwriter @momc95 @nickkie1129 @austynparksandpizza @brooke0297 @destructivebliss @outoftheregular @itscomplicatedx @0-artemis @vivloki

#loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki #loki odinson #thor odinson #marvel cinematic universe

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historic-old-guard-lover · 4 years ago

Note

How many languages and which of them would the cast speak if we’re going to be completely historically accurate ?

This a great question that I can’t quite answer, but I spent six hours researching to give it a shot. I think that there’s a broad range of plausible languages and you’ve got leeway to choose how many. The first part is that different people have different affinities for languages. Some people can speak ten different languages fluently (or near-fluency), while others will struggle juggling three different ones in their brains. The range in the languages can affect this, too: it’s easy to mess up between similar languages. I personally have trouble speaking Spanish because in the middle of the sentence, I’ll drop a French word without even realizing it. The same thing doesn’t happen to me in other languages like German, though. By the same token as I’ve discussed before, similar languages are easier to learn. Going from English to Russian with the Cyrillic alphabet? More difficult than English to French, which makes up about a third of modern English. These are languages that are still in the same family (Proto-Indo-European, PIE), though, so it holds nothing to the difficulty of going from English to a language like Mandarin.

I’m breaking this answer into two parts: 1) how many?; 2) which ones? and I’m going to get carried away because I’m me so it’s below the break to spare you if this comes across your dash and you’re not a nerd...

PART 1: What’s a realistic number for them to speak?

I think that each member of the old guard probably has a certain number of languages which they’re comfortable with, a few more that they can understand/get by in, and a few that they may only know phrases from. The number of each isn’t the same for everyone. The average human being is able to speak ~1.5 languages. The most talented polyglots can speak upwards of 50 languages, maybe one guy even spoke 65 (mostly I want to mention he loved translating the phrase “kiss my ass”). This hyperpolyglot, Kreb aka “Kiss My Ass” Stan, had his brain dissected after his death and it showed a lot of “abnormalities”. That leads neuroscientists and me to believe that being able to study and learn 65 languages is either 1) a major skill that rewired his brain because he was flexing it so much; or 2) very abnormal and facilitated by his brain differences. Since their powers don’t make them stop being limited by the human brain (they can forget), I would say that it is unlikely that one of them is fluent/near fluent/comfortable in more than ~65 languages.

Getting past twelve languages is considered a feat, so I think only Andy, Quynh, Nicky, and Joe could be anywhere near the upper-bounds of languages. Remember, these hyperpolyglots spend their entire lives studying languages and often need refreshers. The members of the Old Guard don’t have the luxury of reading grammar books all day, and they also have to remember a bunch of combat training. You can argue that a lot of fighting is “muscle memory” aka located in the cerebellum and nowhere near language processing areas, but there’s still things like math, navigation, etc. that they need to remember. I doubt they have a list of their safe houses just lying around. The older members can speak more languages by virtue of being around longer and having that time to learn, but if we’re being realistic they should probably speak no more than ~45-55 languages comfortably. This doesn’t mean that they only *know* that many, but the other languages would be more like bad high school Spanish in America than able to wax poetic. Aside: that Joe is able to be poetic in what is AT LEAST his fourth or so language is very impressive and we should talk about that more.

How Many Each Member is Maximally Proficient In/Knowledgeable Of at the end of the film/Opening Fire comics run:

Lykon (comics): proficient in ~15, knowledgeable of ~30*

Lykon (movies): proficient in ~45, knowledgeable of ~80*

Andy: proficient in ~50, knowledgeable of ~100**

Quynh | Noriko: proficient in ~51, knowledgeable of ~90**

Joe: proficient in ~30, knowledgeable of ~80

Nicky: proficient in ~30, knowledgeable of ~80

Booker: proficient in ~10, knowledgeable of ~30

Nile: proficient in ~2 (maybe 3), knowledgeable of ~5

*In the comics, he is younger than Andy and Quynh and I assume he dies young. In the movie, it is strongly implied that he was the oldest. The reason why his numbers are not larger, however, is because at some point there were fewer languages as humanity had not dispersed as much as it eventually did. He’s also long before written language which facilitates learning for most people. RIP Lykon.

**I’m not saying that Quynh is smarter than Andy, just that she comes after written language and it should be slightly easier for her to pick things up. I’m giving Andy access to more languages, however, because PIE alone covers Europe, Central Asia, and South Asia. More on this later.

PART 2: Which languages would each of them speak?

I’ve covered this question a little in a previous post that was broadly about proto-indo-european/Andy-centric (check it out if you want), but I’ll give a broader survey of each character here.

A Quick Aside on Lykon: We don’t know enough about this character, and the fact that the comics and movie diverge so sharply does not help at all. I’m going to headcannon that he was from Eastern Africa, where most archaeologists agree that modern humans first appeared in the Horn of Africa aka modern Ethiopia and Somolia and neighbors, and predates Andy by ~3,000 years. For future purposes below and assuming a birth date for Andy in the range ~5,000BCE - 4,000BCE, this puts his birth at around ~8,000BCE - 7,000BCE. This is wild speculation, however. Maybe the early immortals should be spaced by warfare types (Stone Age, Bronze, Iron, Steel?) or maybe they pop up once a cultural region reaches a certain historic point or maybe they just sorta pop up and then live for six or seven thousands years. I’m working off the last assumption because it’s the simplest. The only thing I’m certain of is that Greg Rucka probably didn’t sit down and think this pattern through. If I’m wrong, oh well. I’m mad at him for all his historical inaccuracies. With dating from ~8,000BCE - 7,000BCE, I’m having trouble finding a name for the cultures that scientists/historians know were living there at the time. It’s probably because the region has been continually occupied since the first humans, which one can safely assume makes abandoned and undisturbed sites hard to fine.

A Quick Aside on Quynh | Noriko: I like the film better, so I’ll be working with Quynh. If there’s enough interest, I can add on Japanese for Noriko. I’m going to date Quynh to be ~1,500 years after Andy (maybe this should be the new date system, before Andy “BA” and after Andy “AA”). This puts her in the time range of ~3,500BCE - 2,500BCE which could place her in either the Đa Bút neolithic culture of modern-day Vietnam or the Phùng Nguyên bronze age culture of modern-day Vietnam. Those names are archaeological in nature, based on the location where sites have been found and dated to those ranges.

Other Origins: Because we have diverging cannons, I’m going to just state the backgrounds that I’ve assigned. Joe is from 1066CE with a background in the Arab-controlled Maghreb (more specifically, modern-day Tunisia and Northern Algeria). Nicky is from 1069CE with a background from the Italian maritime republic and city-state of Genoa. Booker is from 1770 southern France. Nile is from 1994 Chicago in the United States. Andy is from ~5,000BCE - 4,000BCE in the Caucasus (modern-day Georgia and Azerbaijan) or the South Western Eurasian Steppes, probably the Shulaveri-Shomu culture assuming that location.

The first language everyone learned, their “mother tongue” or “native language” is one that they definitely speak. It’s the language that they think in and would be hard-pressed to lose. This even includes now-dead languages, because, again, it’s the one that they learned to think with. Of course, it is possible to lose a language when you have no one to speak it with if you wanted to do something tragic, but I think that these things are too deeply ingrained for it it to happen by accident.

What Each One’s First Language Would Be:

Nile: American English, possibly African-American Vernacular English (AAVE) at home

Booker: Provençal/Occitan, possibly “standard French” (school and other places outside the home)

Nicky: Genoese Ligurian/Zeneize

Joe: Tunisian Derja/Tunisian Arabic/Tunisian, and possibly one of the dialects of the native Zenati language group based on where more precisely you place him

Quynh: Proto-Viet–Muong (which isn’t well documented because it’s so old)

Andy: Proto-Indo-European (PIE), but if you’re curious the Classical Scythian Language for which she is probably named is only off by a factor of 10 (4000 vs 400 BCE) *cue distressed sighing*

Lykon: Proto-Cushitic (also suffering a lack of documentation from being old as heck)

Other than their first languages, what else they learn depends on where they go. People learned languages back then for the same reasons that they do today: to communicate (and to read, after the invention of writing).

Additional Confirmed or Likely Cannon Languages:

Nile: Spanish because of the American school system for sure. French is listed on the IG account, but she probably speaks only Spanish or French to a degree of fluency, definitely one better than the other. Very Basic Pashto, which we see her use some obviously-memorized phrases with in the film.

Booker: The IG promo things asserts that he knows (modern, standard) Italian and Greek. Why not? He also probably knows Spanish depending on where more specifically in southern France he is from. He’s probably also picked up on at least Very Basic Arabic from Joe and Nicky, but actually learning the language would take commitment from him. He also clearly speaks English.

Nicky: Other Italian dialects, and it would be fairly easy for him to have picked up modern Italian. He definitely reads Latin. If he was from a wealthy family, he probably also speaks Greek. If he was from a trading family, he probably speaks the trading pidgin of Sabir. The IG account confirms Arabic (vague, but okay I’ll be generous and say modern standard Arabic) and Romanche (they meant to write Romansh). I think Romansh is poorly chosen to characterize him in Northern Italy, but I’m feeling generous. He also clearly speaks English.

Joe: He definitely speaks standard Arabic to have been able to communicate with other Arabic-speakers in Jerusalem. Genoese Ligurian/Zeneize because of the love of his life, which also means he probably picked up modern Italian at some point. The IG account confirms Farsi (they call it “Persian” *cue screaming*), which works if he was a merchant who traveled far to eastward on the Silk Road...and if you go with the comic cannon makes more sense. I’m going to say that he speaks the Mediterranean trading pidgin Sabir because of his location in Tunisia. If he was from a wealthy merchant family and could afford schooling, he probably learned Greek and maybe also Latin. There’s a good chance that he knows conversational-levels of other native Zenati languages thanks to colonialism discouraging their usage. He also clearly speaks English.

Quynh: We don’t actually know if she speaks English, but it’s safe to assume she does speak at least some of it. She’s probably learned Vietnamese and Mường because of her mastery of their proto-language. Because I see her returning to modern-day Vietnam to fight the Chinese colonization, I think that she might know Cantonese or Mandarin. Based on her travels with Andy, I’d like to propose Greek, Latin, and Mongolian. I’m sure that Andy and her share a language, but who knows which one they were each speaking when they met!

Andy: The IG account says “all,” but I’ve discussed this elsewhere (*major eye rolling*). She almost certainly picked up Scythian and Greek based on her chosen name. Latin isn’t as likely as you’d think, but is possible. I’d like to think that she’s also partial to learning Russian (or some earlier form of the language), Mongolian, and Armenian. Based on her travels with Quynh, I imagine that she speaks Cantonese or Mandarin and Vietnamese or Mu’o��ng. There is some mystery language shared with Quynh, too. She also clearly speaks English.

Lykon: I really don’t know enough about him to hazard any guesses. He should share at least one language in common with Andy and Quynh. If his date of death is ~2,000- 1,000 BCE like I’m supposing, there’s a good chance that he only speaks one or two currently-named languages. Sorry, OP.

#asks #lovely anon #linguistics #neuroscience #the old guard #andromache the scythian #andy #quynh #noriko #lykon #yusuf al kaysani #joe #nicolo di genova #nicky #sebastien le livre #booker #nile freeman #nile

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danteinthedevildom · 4 years ago

Text

A Royal Pajama Party “Analysis” - Part 3 (of 7)

Unlike the previous two posts - which were fairly length - this one is a little less of a formal analysis and more of a “holy shit this man’s so fucking cute” ramble. It’s significantly shorter; I would have actually compiled these together with the previous post if Tumblr wasn’t so awful with its image-per-post limit.

It continues with Diavolo and MC watching a movie together, and once again leads into more Story Key-locked content. So, here is your cursory spoiler warning!

Picking up from the previous post, the movie Diavolo picks to watch with you is a black and white Human World film. A few thoughts come to mind on this.

One: He picked a movie specifically because he wanted to watch it with you. Not just anyone in general, or even just a human in general - specifically you. He spends a lot of time thinking about and noting down things he wants to do with you.

This, to begin with, is just... impossibly sweet. He’s never had a friend before, so he’s never had someone to think about when he’s looking at things he enjoys. Even the closest demons to him don’t generally like humouring him with his more playful whims.

Now, however? He has you. Someone willing to spend time with him. Suddenly, he has someone utterly receptive to the things he loves; someone happy enough to listen, someone who might enjoy them just as much as he does.

We’ve all done it before, after all. As soon as we know someone’s happy to listen to you ramble about something, we take note of things we think they might like so we can share it with them and (potentially) get them into it as well. Make it a bonding experience, because we like the thing and we like them, so why not mix the two? That’s how you deepen a friendship, after all.

It’s such a normal, human thing for Diavolo to do. He’s sincerely just happy to have you there; to finally have someone he can pick out likes to share with. Just a passing thought - “Oh, MC might like that, I’ll have to save it for our sleepover” - that speaks a thousand words to how often (how casually, naturally, easily) he thinks about you.

But it’s also a bit more than that. Because while this is just about the movie, we’ve already seen Diavolo admit he’s quite literally written out a list of activities he wants to do with you.

How long is that list? What sort of things has he got written down? We’ve been given a small glimpse at the list for this Devilgram, but it really is just a small glimpse. How many times has Diavolo seen something that has immediately pinged in his brain as “things I need to do with/show MC”?

(How many things has he never felt comfortable or happy showing anyone else before?

How many times has he tried to share his interests, only for them to be rejected?)

Two: It’s Human World media. Diavolo’s only recently (in the main game) gotten to see the Human World properly, and considering this is black and white, I’d say it’s fairly old. At the latest? Maybe a hundred years old at this point.

That’s (possibly) at least 100 years Diavolo’s been consuming Human World media.

The fact that he’s remembered it this long, too - for you to appear, and him to want to share it with you - either means it’s something he watches frequently, or it’s something that made a big impression on him.

Diavolo’s infatuated with the Human World, that much we already knew; one of his Homescreen interactions is about wanting to see the sunset, and another mentions how he hasn’t been to the Human World (either at all, or often). It’s something he wants to see more - something that excites him in a very boyish, childish way. Like a kid going on holiday to Disney World after seeing it on TV a thousand times.

But this isn’t a recent infatuation. The movie (potentially) proves this. Even before the Exchange Programme - before he met you - he’s held this infatuation with humanity. It’s not just about peace; there’s something about the Human World that draws Diavolo in.

There’s more evidence of this in a later post, so I’ll go over this a bit more then. For now, however...

We can say with certainty that Diavolo wasn’t kidding when he said the Exchange Programme has been a dream of his for some time. It makes me wonder just how far back he wanted to unite the Three Realms, and why; whether he started with interest in the Celestial Realm or the Human World, and whether or not he hoped the Exchange would branch out his social contacts (considering we already know that demons don’t tend to spend time with him, and Diavolo is horrendously lonely).

(As an aside: the fact that he’s seemingly so infatuated with the Human World makes it even more special for him to share this movie with you. This is something he adores, something that’s affected him so much, he’s dedicated his life to improving relations across the Three Realms - and he wants you to experience it, too.)

Three: A bit more of a joking point, admittedly. Boy really said “I’ve been wanting to watch this movie with you that I love that also happens to be related to the Human World” with the same vibe as Ariel seeing the Prince for the first time and realising he could tell her what all the crap she’s been collecting is for.

I just... love the idea that his logic is “well, MC is human. This movie was made in the Human World. Ergo, this is the most appropriate movie to watch with MC for our super special sleepover!”

He’s so determined for everything to be perfect... I wonder if this movie was his immediate choice - something he’s always known from the start he’d do with you first the moment he could - or if he debated over several movies for the longest time, trying to come up with the best possible choice.

Adorable ramble time!

He’s good, in that he won’t make you do anything you don’t want to - you’re always given the choice of how close you want to be to Diavolo, and if you want to nope out of vaguely (or even overtly) romantic situations even at the last minute - but when given the chance? He will get as close to you as possible.

He’ll have you sit right next to him, pressed arm-to-arm, thigh-to-thigh. He’ll thread his fingers through yours, and rest your joined hands on your lap. And he’ll savour every moment, because this isn’t something he gets often, if at all.

That comment - “your hand is so warm...” - has such a sense of awe to it. He’s finally close enough to you to say that you’re warm. He’s finally reached this pinnacle of contact that he’s always wanted - and look at him! He’s so happy! He’s so, genuinely, wonderfully happy to be this close to you.

He’s been wanting to watch the movie with you for at least months, if not a few years (timeline depending), and he finally has the time to show you this thing he’s genuinely excited for you to see - and it is totally blown out of the water by the fact you’re snuggled up to him, holding his hand.

That’s how special you are to him. That’s how special this moment is for him.

There’s something so sweet - and yet so heartbreaking - at seeing the damn Prince of the Devildom get so flustered over asking to hold your hand. I know that the OM demons aren’t always depicted as your typical demons, and a few of them are fairly sex-shy, but there’s just... something about this scene that hits different.

He’s so tentative, so hopeful, to be able to hold your hand. He’s so shy about it, too. And, yes, some of that is absolutely him fretting over ruining the evening by asking - fretting over chasing you off if he’s too touchy, when you’re already doing so much just by staying as long as you have - but some of it has to be him not knowing if that’s an okay thing to ask for. Wanting to get closer, but not knowing if it’s appropriate.

I have a lot of feelings about this scene. It’s just... whether you see it as romantic or not, he’s so happy. He’s so happy just to have you there. He’s so happy you’re humouring him. He’s so happy you’re letting him do these very simple things.

He’s so lonely. And you just make all of that go away.

This is actually more of a silly thing, but I just wanted to note that - the Devildom has fucking Jenga and it’s called The Demonic Tower.

I’m also still not over this for a slightly sadder reason. This is another one of the things that Diavolo wanted to do with you - another activity on his list. And it’s playing fucking Jenga.

He knew/knows so few people and has such little free time, something as simple as Jenga is riveting entertainment for him.

He’s played so few board games in his life, he actually thought it was worthwhile to write down as something he absolutely had to do with you for your special, rare night of shared time spent together.

There are so many normal, plain, boring, everyday life experiences he’s never done, and every new thing he presents just hits harder than the last.

+++

And that concludes our (slightly shorter) part 3! Once again, thank you for making it this far. Hopefully the slightly lighter post was alright-

Next post, we’re going to skip ahead a bit. The game of Jenga itself is mostly just fun, so there’s no need to focus on it specifically. What is important, however, is the next activity - and what Diavolo does based on certain choices.

So, if you’d like, head on over to part 4!

#obey me diavolo #obey me analysis #obey me

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calwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Masked Singer (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: The team has become obsessed with The Masked Singer, an extremely silly singing competition about trying to guess what celebrity is singing behind a mask. Imagine Spencer’s surprise when he hears a familiar voice.

Warnings: none (unless you count bad writing lol)

Word Count: 6.2k

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Spencer wasn’t quite sure how it happened, but it had. The team was obsessed with The Masked Singer. One morning, JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia had been talking about it before they had to brief a new case. Apparently they had found the first season online after they had too many glasses of wine and had made it through half the episodes in one night.

“It’s just trying to guess what famous person is singing while wearing a mask?” Morgan had asked. “That doesn’t sound very hard.”

“Yeah it should be obvious, but it’s not and that’s what makes it so addicting. They disguise their voices when they talk and they give you these cryptic clues about who they are.”

Emily nodded along to Penelope’s point. “Plus the judges’ guesses are everywhere, which doesn’t help.”

“Maybe you should watch, Morgan. Put those profiling skills to use,” JJ teased.

Derek was opening his mouth to respond when Hotch walked into the room. “Unfortunately, we have a case that needs our profiling skills.”

Spencer thought that would be the last of it. They spent the next few days tracking down another serial killer, and he was looking forward to relaxing on the jet on the way home. Maybe he’d read for a bit if no one wanted to play chess with him. What he wanted more than anything, though, was to be able to go home to Y/N. But he couldn’t.

His thoughts of you were interrupted by Penelope popping up on a screen. “I have a wonderful surprise for my favorite crime fighters.”

“Well don’t just tease us, baby girl,” Derek prompted when Garcia paused for dramatic effect. Instead of answering, Garcia started playing something on another screen.

“Oh there was a new episode on last night,” Emily said excitedly. “No one looked up who was unmasked, right?” After getting verbal confirmation that no one had looked up who was unmasked the previous night, Emily and JJ gave the rest of the team a short rundown of who had already been sent home.

“And people actually agree to do this?” Rossi asked in disbelief when they were done. The girls ignored him, focusing instead on the show. Rossi and Morgan shrugged at each other, but Spencer could tell that they were both a little curious about the show.

“I know Donny Osmond, and that is definitely Donny Osmond,” Rossi yelled approximately twenty minutes later. “Just look at how he walks.”

“I think it should be cheating for Rossi to guess when he might actually know some of these people,” Derek complained. Emily and JJ both nodded in agreement, so Derek turned to Hotch. “Hotch?”

“It’s cheating.” Hotch was trying to seem like he wasn’t also paying too much attention to the show, but he wasn’t doing a very good job. Rossi threw his hands up and started arguing his case, but JJ shushed him as the clues for the next performer started.

And just like that, the team had a new tradition. Garcia would play any episodes they missed when they were on the jet on the way home from a case. If they were without a case when there was a new episode, they would get together at someone’s house, usually Rossi’s, to watch it as it aired.

Emily and Derek were probably the best at guessing correctly, but Rossi sometimes had the advantage of actually knowing the celebrity behind the mask. Hotch and JJ blamed their incorrect guesses on not having time to stay up to date on celebrities because of their kids. Most of the time, Spencer didn’t even bother guessing. He had no idea who most of the celebrities were, but he enjoyed watching as the rest of the team got into trying to figure it out. Garcia had been banned from guessing after the team found out she was doing her own research. She had tried to argue that if they could use their super profiling powers, she could use her internet sleuthing powers, but the others weren’t having it.

Spencer had mentioned the show to you when you two were on the phone chatting before he went over to Rossi’s for the season 2 premiere. Curious about the show that managed to captivate and puzzle actual FBI profilers, you had decided to start watching on your own. Now, you and Spencer discussed the show whenever you had both watched the new episodes. It was nice having something new besides work to talk about. Of course, you, like Rossi, had the advantage of actually knowing some of the celebrities.

“How did you know it was Sherri Shepherd?” Spencer asked you after he got back from Rossi’s one night. “You said you knew it was her from the first time you heard her sing.”

You laughed at the frustration in your boyfriend’s voice. More than anything, you wanted to be cuddled up with him on the couch. But you were on opposite coasts, so imagining his furrowed brow would have to do. “I’ve met Sherri Shepherd. I’ve been on The View. Or did you not watch that interview?”

You were just teasing him. You knew that Spencer watched every interview you did. He was the most supportive boyfriend ever, even though you knew that some of the answers you had to give in interviews hurt him. Every time you were asked about dating, you had to give an answer like ‘No one special,’ ‘Not looking for anything right now,’ ‘Too busy to start anything.’ Truthfully, you were too busy to start a new relationship. You were constantly filming a new movie, doing press for a new movie, or getting ready for a new movie. Plus, you already had a boyfriend. Why would you want another one?

It was hard being away from Spencer so much, but you both knew that it was what was best for your career right now. You had met Spencer when you were a struggling actor who had just finished filming your first major movie. Now, you were an Oscar winner who was constantly getting offers. Spencer had told you that you needed to take advantage of those offers to really cement your place in Hollywood. You had both decided that the best way to keep each other safe, from both the media and psychopaths with grudges, was not to go public with your relationship.

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

It was over three years ago. You had just finished filming in DC. Most of the cast and crew had already gone back to LA or wherever they called home, but you had decided to stay in DC for a few more days to unwind before going back to your empty apartment in New York. It was probably about time to accept the fact that you should move out to LA, but you preferred the East Coast to the West.

You wandered through a park, when a cluster of chess tables caught your eye. More specifically, one man sitting at the chess tables. He looked to be about your age, but what made you watch him was the way he was playing three games at once. And winning them all. When the games were over, his opponents all grumbled as they walked away, leaving the man looking at the boards almost sadly.

You knew how to play chess, but you wouldn’t say that you were great. Still, you had to talk to this guy. So you sat down across from him, startling him as he replaced all of the pieces to their starting positions. He blinked at you in surprise instead of saying anything, so you took the lead, moving a pawn out first.

The two of you played in silence for a few turns. You smiled every time you caught him looking at you, and he blushed every time he was caught. He was cute. You quickly realized that you had no chance of winning, so you abandoned any sort of strategy and began moving pieces at random. You watched as he became more and more confused at your moves.

“It’s going to be a tie,” he said finally. His voice was lovely. “I mean, I could still win, but looking at our moves throughout the game, it seems most likely that it’s going to be a tie.”

“Is there any way I could win?” Truthfully, you hadn’t even been expecting a tie, but you wanted him to keep talking.

He shook his head. “No. You actually had a decent chance of winning until I took your rook four turns ago. If you had moved your queen instead, then I would have had to move my knight, leaving my king open to check.”

You blinked at the man for a moment. “Do you remember every move we made?”

He nodded shyly. “I have an eidetic memory.” You had no idea what that was, but it sounded impressive. At your blank look, he launched into an explanation of an eidetic memory and how it was different from a photographic memory. You weren’t really sure what he was saying, but you liked listening to him.

“So, it’s probably going to be a draw,” he finished shyly, painfully aware that he had just spent way too long explaining something to you that he hadn’t asked him to explain. To his surprise, you grinned at him, taking his breath away.

“Well, I was going to say that if I win you have to tell me your name, and if you win I have to tell you my name. Since it’s a draw, I guess we’ll both have to tell each other our names. I’m Y/N.” You stuck out your hand, but he looked at it awkwardly.

“Considering how many pathogens are passed during a handshake, it’s actually safer to kiss. I’m Spencer,” he continued quickly as a blush spread across your cheeks.

“Well it’s nice to meet you, Spencer. Honestly, I feel a little bit like I cheated. I started moving pieces randomly after about three turns.” Spencer looked shocked at your admission before he started laughing. “To make it up to you, can I buy you dinner tonight?” You were a little shocked at your own confidence, but thankfully Spencer seemed to like it.

“Only if I can buy you a coffee now.” You had agreed, obviously. The two of you spent the rest of the day together, getting to know each other. By dinner, it was like you had known each other forever. You had stayed in touch when you had to go back to New York. Spencer didn’t have a lot of free time, but you didn’t have any jobs at the moment, so you went down to DC whenever possible.

You and Spencer had only been officially dating for two weeks when your movie premiered. You weren’t ready for the media to scrutinize you two, and Spencer wasn’t ready for his coworkers to profile you, so you had agreed to keep your relationship on the down low.

Then you name blew up. The reviews for your movie, and your performance in particular, were glowing. People started suggesting an Oscar nomination for you. You started getting offers for roles your couldn’t refuse. So you packed up your life in New York and moved out to LA. You and Spencer talked all the time. He had even started texting you. Plus, you flew to DC whenever possible to be with him, even if it was just for a few hours. But it was still hard for you two to be apart for so long.

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

The season premiere of Masked Singer is tonight. Maybe you guys can watch it on the plane.

Spencer read your message and smiled. You knew it had been a tough case without him even having to say it. Sometimes he thought you could read his mind. You had a way of always knowing what he needed, even when he didn’t know.

A new season of their favorite show was just what the team needed. Spencer sent a quick text to Penelope to ask if it was possible for them to watch the show on the jet as it aired. She had responded not to underestimate her, which worried Spencer slightly.

The team sat in silence for a few minutes, the engine the only sound, until the screens came to life and the opening for The Masked Singer appeared. “I forgot this was coming back tonight,” JJ sighed in relief as the rest of the team smiled at the show. They settled in, ready to start trying to profile the celebrities in wacky costumes.

“And now, our very own royal contestant: The Queen,” the host said as a new clue package began to play. Spencer stiffened as The Queen began to talk. Despite the voice modification, Spencer could recognize the way you spoke. Your word choice. Your cadence. Even the way you walked onto the stage. Everything screamed Y/N. Spencer couldn’t help but smile at the mask you had chosen. It was like the top of the queen chess piece. Not the mention the tight white costume looked great on you. What would really confirm Spencer’s theory was your singing, so he waited with baited breath and hoped no one on the plane would notice his sudden heightened interest.

“If I should stay, I would only be in your way.” Spencer’s breath caught.

“Aww. Whitney,” Derek exclaimed. The rest of the team joined in with similar comments of surprise and joy as the music joined your voice on screen, but Spencer was too focused on you to notice them.

As he watched, it was like the cape on your shoulders turned into the blanket he kept on his couch that you had wrapped around yourself. The microphone became a spatula that you held to you mouth instead of using it to flip the pancakes, belting this very song much to his neighbors’ annoyance. It was a scene he was used to, having seen it many times.

“That was amazing. There’s no way you’re not winning this season. But I have no idea who you are,” one judge said when you were done. The other judges echoed similar thoughts before they all started throwing around some possible names. Spencer smiled to himself as his teammates were similarly confused. No one mentioned your name. And they probably never would.

You were very insecure about your singing voice, though Spencer often told you that you shouldn’t be. However, you never even mentioned singing in any interviews, and you didn’t sing in front of anyone that wasn’t Spencer.

“So what brought you onto The Masked Singer?” one judge asked.

“I’m actually a big fan of the show, but the real reason was because it’s my boyfriend’s favorite show. I wanted to surprise him.” Your voice shook nervously as you spoke. Spencer couldn’t tell if it was because you had stage fright or because you had publicly announced that you had a boyfriend for the first time. Not that anyone knew it was you. You and Spencer had been talking about going public with your relationship for a few months now, but you had both always found reasons to keep putting it off. Spencer knew what you were doing. Once you were unmasked, you would have to acknowledge that you had a boyfriend.

Of course, some part of Spencer’s mind reminded him that all of this was filmed in advance. There were people somewhere who knew that you were The Queen and that you had a boyfriend. Spencer just hoped that the NDAs that they had signed were enough to keep that from getting out before the episode aired. Not that he had time to worry about that. You were still talking to the judges.

“Do you think he’s going to be surprised when you’re unmasked eventually? Not that that’s going to happen any time soon.”

“Definitely not. He probably knew it was me the minute I walked on the stage. Plus, he has to hear me sing all the time when I’m home.” It made Spencer’s heart soar hearing you refer to his little apartment as home. You spent more time in your Beverly Hills house than his apartment, but whenever you talked about going home, Spencer knew you were talking about getting back to DC. Getting back to him.

As the rest of the team continued to discuss guesses about your identity, Spencer pulled out his phone to text you.

The Queen sounded amazing.

Spencer knew that, wherever you were, you would smile when you read that text.

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

Pretty soon, the new episodes of The Masked Singer were the highlight of Spencer’s week. He was always antsy when they couldn’t watch an episode when it aired, desperate to make sure that you hadn’t been eliminated yet. He loved watching as your confidence in your voice and you stage presence grew.

Surprisingly, it was after you did a cover of Heart of Glass by Blondie that the switch flipped. Spencer could pinpoint the moment it happened. Your performance became electric and there seemed to be a pull, even in the jet, that drew everyone to you.

Spencer had seen it happen before. About a year after you had started dating, you and Spencer had met up in New York for a weekend. Spencer was in awe of the way you managed to seem completely normal, allowing the eyes of all the tourists to slide right over you, despite the fact that your face was on a billboard in Times Square.

The two of you were eating lunch in a pizza restaurant. Spencer had wanted to do research to find the best place to eat, but you had pulled him into a random place. Although he hated to admit it, the pizza was really good.

It was easy to hear the conversation of the two girls, high school students if Spencer had to guess, in the nearly empty restaurant. Spencer saw the look of joy on your face when you realized that the girls were talking about your movie. You both had to smile that they were now talking about how obsessed they were with you when they had walked past you a minute ago without even realizing it.

You looked at your boyfriend with an unspoken question in your eye. Spencer nodded his head at the girls, letting you know that he didn’t mind if you went over to talk to them. As you stood up, it was like the air around you changed. There was no difference in the way you held yourself. If Spencer believed in things like vibes, he would have said that you just started giving off a different vibe. Suddenly, everyone’s eyes were on you.

You spoke to the girls for a few minutes before taking some pictures with them and returning to your table. You seemed unaware of the effect you had on everyone, but Spencer couldn’t shake a strange feeling. It was like for the first time he had seen Y/N Y/L/N instead of his girlfriend Y/N. When you finally got Spencer to tell you what was bothering him later that night, you had confided in him that you often felt intimidated when he talked about his job.

The two of you had grown past that as your relationship went on, but it was strange seeing the effect that you had on his friends.

The closest he got to spilling your secret was the next week. As you got closer to the finale, the competition began heating up. In an effort to prove that you were more than just a good voice, you had chosen 1,2 Step, complete with your own twist on the iconic, according to you since Spencer didn’t really know, choreography from the music video.

“She has some serious stamina,” Emily commented as you got through the rap flawlessly despite all of the dancing you were doing. Spencer knew all about your stamina.

“And look at how her body moves. She can dance.” Spencer’s fist clenched at Derek’s comment. He knew that Derek didn’t mean anything by it. Your body moved fluidly through the dance. It was easy to see in the tight costume you wore. But something seemed to burn inside Spencer as he watched Derek watch you. He wanted nothing more than to tell Derek that last weekend he had used his stamina to keep you up until the early hours of the morning.

But Spencer stopped himself. You had said that you had a plan for telling people about your relationship. He just had to wait for you to put that plan into motion.

The judges were still clueless about your true identity, though Spencer still thought that all of the clues should have made it extremely obvious. Still, it was amusing listening to their guesses.

“I think-no, I know who this is.” Spencer settled in, ready to hear Ken Jeong’s latest wild guess. Last week he had been sure that you were Leona Lewis and the week before it was Mariah Carey. “This is Y/N Y/L/N.”

Spencer tried not to react as everyone in the jet, and on the screen, shook their heads at Ken’s guess.

“Y/N doesn’t sing,” one judge told Ken as another said, “Y/N’s not a singer. No way.”

“But Y/N won an Oscar for her role as a queen. Plus, and stay with me here, in the clue package we’ve seen things about agents. She has an agent, who gets her roles and probably got her on this show, so welcome to the show Y/N Y/L/N.”

“The Queen is in a long term relationship, and Y/N isn’t dating anyone,” one judge pointed out. The other two judges nodded along, so Ken gave up his fight. Spencer realized that, if anything, Ken guessing it was you would convince people that it couldn’t possibly be you.

“Hey, Spence, didn’t you have a little celebrity crush on Y/N Y/L/N?” JJ asked as the commercials started. The rest of the team turned to look at him. Spencer tried to hide his blush, but the smirk on Derek’s face told him it wasn’t working.

“Yeah,” Emily continued, “You go to see all of her movies. Multiple times.”

Spencer tried to shrug nonchalantly. “I just think Y/N is a good actor.” Luckily, the team soon lost interest in teasing Spencer, so he could focus on texting you about your performance.

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

“Thank goodness we finished in time to catch it.” Everyone nodded in agreement to Emily’s statement. They had just finished another case earlier that day and had made it to the jet in time to watch the finale as it aired. The team settled into their seats and quickly began sorting out their bets about who was who and who would win.

“Reid, you want in?” Rossi asked. So far, Spencer had abstained from all of the betting about the show they did. But now he wanted to have a little fun with his team.

“I think The Queen will win.” Most people nodded. That was a popular opinion. “And I think The Queen is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Oh c’mon, kid. You’re just as bad as Ken,” Derek complained, but he was smiling. Spencer felt slightly guilty. He knew that he was at least partially right. He had been tempted to ask you whether you win, but held himself back. There was no doubt that you signed some NDAs, so you really weren’t supposed to tell him.

Spencer had a hard time caring about the other performances. He was looking forward to hearing you again and to seeing the faces of his friends when he was right about your identity. Finally, the other two finalists had gone and it was your turn. Unsurprisingly, your performance was amazing. The best of the night in Spencer’s slightly biased opinion.

Spencer was so relieved when third place was announced and it wasn’t you. Some celebrity he didn’t know took their mask off. There was some exchanging of money among his friends. But then it was time to announce the winner.

“And so, the winner of this season of The Masked Singer, who will go home today with The Golden Mask trophy is,” the host paused for dramatic effect. Spencer had to remind himself to breathe. “The Queen!”

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief as he watched you jump up and down onstage before being ushered to a throne where you would watch the runner up take off their mask. It was another celebrity Spencer didn’t know and didn’t care about.

“I guessed Miley Cyrus when you sang Jolene a few episodes ago. I don’t think that’s right, but it’s the best guess I have, so I’ll go with Miley,” one judge said when it was time for their final guesses. This was it. You were about to be unmasked. Spencer wasn’t quite sure why he was so nervous. You had won! And he already knew that it was you under the mask.

The other three judges threw out their final guesses, but no one was very sure of themselves. Except Ken, who confidently said, “It’s gotta be Michelle Obama,” earning lots of laughs from everyone watching.

“Well, let’s see who it is. Take it off. Take it off.” The host started the chant, which the audience and judges quickly took off as you pretended to struggle to take off your mask. Spencer found himself joining in with the rest of the team as they chanted too.

And finally, you removed your mask and Spencer could see your beautiful face. As great as you looked standing on the stage with your hair and makeup perfectly done, Spencer couldn’t wait until you were back home in a week and he could see you huddled on the couch wearing pajamas.

Chaos erupted, both on the screen and on the plane. It seemed like no one could believe that it was you. The rest of the team was too busy yelling in shock that they didn’t notice the look of absolute adoration Spencer was giving you.

“This might have been the most shocking reveal in Masked Singer history,” the host said into his microphone as the judges and audience began to calm down. “I mean, no one even knew you sing, Y/N. Why did you decide to come on The Masked Singer?”

You laughed uneasily into the microphone. Spencer could tell that you were feeling equal amounts of joy and nervousness. It was understandable, he thought. You had just won a singing competition despite having never sang in public before.

“I’ve always loved to sing, but I’ve never had much confidence in my voice. I’d love more than anything to be in a big movie musical. I guess I was hoping that this would be a good place to build my confidence.”

“You have an absolutely amazing voice,” one judge said. You ducked your head shyly, smiling slightly at the ground before looking back up at the judges. “I think after people see your performances you’ll have no problem doing a musical. I mean, you tackled so many different genres, and you sounded amazing doing all of them.”

You thanked the judge before turning to the others. A smile remained on your lips as they all congratulated you, but Spencer could tell from the way you kept shifting your weight that you were uncomfortable with all of the attention.

“Wait so you said that one reason you did this show was that it’s your boyfriend’s favorite show?” Spencer’s heart fluttered as he watched your smile grow at the mention of him. “That really threw me. I didn’t know you were dating anyone.” The other judges agreed.

“Yeah my boyfriend and I have been together for over two years. We’ve just kept it a secret.”

“Well the secret is out now.”

“You still don’t know who he is though,” you pointed out. The judges laughed and agreed.

“Whoever is dating her is a lucky man,” Rossi commented as the show wrapped up. Spencer tried not to let his heart skip a beat. What would his team think when they found out about you two?

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

“I still can’t believe that The Queen was Y/N Y/L/N,” JJ sighed. The team was in the elevator on the way up to their floor. They all needed to drop some stuff off, but Hotch had told them that no one was allowed to stay late tonight. They needed to get home and relax.

“I can’t believe she managed to have a secret boyfriend for over two years without the media finding out,” Emily added. “You know Garcia is probably already trying to uncover the mystery man.”

The team laughed as the elevator doors opened. Spencer made a mental note to warn you about Garcia. He had already texted you to congratulate you, but he missed you. You were supposed to finish filming in a few days and then you’d be back home in about a week. Still, Spencer was a little bummed that you would miss your third anniversary, which was actually tomorrow.

“Hey, Pretty Boy, who’s at your desk?” Derek asked.

It took Spencer a moment to really understand what he was seeing. It didn’t quite make sense in his brain. Every time you got home, you would immediately shower (to wash off the airplane germs), throw on one of Spencer’s old sweaters and some leggings, and curl up on the couch with whatever book Spencer had left laying around until he got home. And now here you were, wet hair and all, sitting at his desk. He barely had time to admire the look of concentration on your face as you tapped at your phone, probably texting your agent.

“Wait, is that-” But Spencer didn’t let Emily finish.

“Y/N!” he called as he pushed through the doors into the bullpen.

Your head shot up at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, a huge smile growing on your face. You dropped your phone onto the desk (your agent could wait) and rushed over to him. Completely ignoring the fact that his team was a few steps behind him, you threw your arms around Spencer, wrapping your legs around him too when he picked you up. He began to spin you around, causing you to shriek in glee.

Finally, he put you down. You started to move away, but he surprised you by putting his hands on either side of your face and connecting your lips. You smiled into the kiss, so happy to finally be back with your boyfriend.

“Does anyone else feel like they’re missing something?” You two broke apart at the sound his coworker’s voice. You smiled shyly at the man who had just spoke, Rossi you assumed, based on Spencer’s stories about his team.

“Everyone, I’d like you meet Y/N. My girlfriend.” The team looked between Spencer, who was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered, and you. You could feel the blush on your face, but that didn’t stop your own goofy love-struck grin.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you guys,” you finally said. “I’ve heard so much about you all.”

“We can’t say the same,” the blonde, JJ, slowly replied. You could feel Spencer shift uncomfortably beside you, before he pulled you even closer to his side.

“That’s my fault,” you said before Spencer could say anything. “I wanted to keep our relationship a secret so it didn’t get out to the media.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Spencer corrected you quickly. “I wanted to make sure that Y/N didn’t get targeted by anyone because of my job. She didn’t want anyone targeting me because of her job. It was a mutual decision.”

“And you couldn’t even tell us?” JJ asked. You could tell, even without knowing her, that she was hurt. You knew that she was Spencer’s best friend, so it was understandable. In fact, every face was looking at the two of you with some mixture of confusion, surprise, and hurt.

“I didn’t want to risk it,” Spencer said uncomfortably. “I figured that the more people who knew, the more likely it would be to get out. Y/N already had to tell some people, so I didn’t want to add to the list.”

“I only told my agent, my assistant, and my security team. And I only told my security team because they thought they caught Spencer trying to break into my house one day.”

Spencer’s face went bright red as he remembered that failed surprise. “I think we need to hear that story sometime.” The rest of the team quickly agreed with Prentiss. It seemed, for now at least, they would let the whole secret thing go.

“What are you doing here?” Spencer asked suddenly. “Not that I’m not happy to see you. I am. You’re supposed to be in LA filming.”

You grinned mischievously at him. “I managed to get the filming schedule rearranged a bit, so I could finish early. I shot my last scene this morning, then went straight to the airport. I wanted to surprise you, so we could finally spend an anniversary together.”

“When do you leave again?” The softness of Spencer’s voice broke your heart. He was preparing himself for you usual answer. You’d be here for a week or two and then have to leave again. But not this time.

“Not for months.” A smile of disbelief spread across Spencer’s face. “I’ll have to go to LA and New York for a few days here and there, but nothing long term. I want to be here with you.”

The two of you had, once again, forgotten that Spencer’s team was standing in front of you. It was so easy to get wrapped up in one another when you were both used to being alone together.

“Did I hear something about an anniversary?” Rossi asked, shaking the two of you out of your little bubble.

“It’ll be three years tomorrow.” You grinned up at your boyfriend. It was the first anniversary you would get to spend together.

“Let me host a dinner for you,” Rossi offered. “I’ll make one of my famous meals. We can break out some nice wine that I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

Spencer began to shake his head, but you grabbed his arm and gasped. “Spencer please,” you begged. “You know I’ve always wanted to go to a dinner at Rossi’s place. You only talk about them all the time. Please. Please. Please.” Spencer finally gave in to your pleading, nodding reluctantly.

You hugged him in excitement before moving to properly introduce yourself to his friends. As you chatted with them, you could hear the clicking of approaching heels.

“My favorite crime fighters will be unhappy to know that I haven’t been able to find anything about Y/N Y/L/N’s secret boyfriend.” You looked up at the brightly dressed woman, definitely Garcia, who had just walked into the bullpen.

“Actually, baby girl, I think we figured that one out ourselves.” Garcia looked up from her phone at Derek’s words. Her eyes widened as she saw you standing among her coworkers.

“Wha-? Who? How? What?” she stammered. In response, you grabbed Spencer’s hand, pulling him closer to you. He wrapped an arm around you, grinning apologetically at Garcia. “Spencer Reid, I would be so mad at you if I wasn’t so happy about meeting Y/N.” Without wasting another second, she rushed over and hugged you. You laughed at the look of jealously on Spencer’s face as you were taken from his arms. This would take some getting used to.

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

You smiled happily, watching Spencer’s friends laugh at a story you had just finished. “I think this was a much better anniversary than burning dinner and then ordering takeout would have been,” you whispered to your boyfriend. Rossi’s food had not disappointed. Nor had his wine. You were feeling comfortably warm as you cuddled up with your boyfriend.

“It’s what we would have done after dinner that I was looking forward to.” You tried not to shiver at Spencer’s words.

“There will be plenty of time for that,” you reminded him. “I’m glad I’m getting to know your friends. They’re so important to you.”

“I’m glad they’re getting to know you. I think you all will be friends. That might not be good for me though.” You laughed at the embarrassed look on your boyfriend’s face. His friends had plenty of embarrassing stories about him, so you had been swapping stories all night.

It was easy for the team to see how absolutely in love the two of you were. Even if they hadn’t been profilers, the looks you two shared were so obvious. What had surprised them was how open Spencer was to your touch. In fact, he was the one initiating most your contact. You had been prepared to control yourself for the sake of Spencer’s professionalism, but he didn’t seem to have the same thought. Any time he could, he would grab your hand or wrap his arms around you.

That was how you had gotten to be cuddled up next to him. After dinner, the party had moved outside. You had been heading for a seat in between Emily and Penelope when Spencer’s hand had reached out and grabbed yours, pulling you onto the outdoor sofa beside him. Not that you were complaining. So you had stayed like that the rest of the night, leaning comfortably into your boyfriend’s side.

A couple weeks later, you posted a picture that Penelope had taken of the two of like that onto your social medias. It was time to introduce the world to your boyfriend.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler #mgg #mgg fic #spencer reid x you #calwrites #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

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bimboamyrose · 4 years ago

Text

Unfamiliar (Ch. 12)

Unfamiliar - A Metamy Fanfic

First two chapters

Previous (Ch.11)

Ch. 12 - Everything Has Changed

There was a long tradition of wearing white during the vernal equinox. While Amy had always celebrated on her own, not having known anyone in the occult community personally, it didn’t stop her from wearing a floaty white gown to welcome the sunrise most years. And just her luck- it was meant to be warm the next day during the festival! She had just the dress.

She pulled a gauze sundress from her wardrobe, hanging it on the back of her door in preparation. She smoothed out its long, sheer sleeves and flowing skirt, admiring its pristine appearance. It had been purchased over a year earlier for a picnic that never happened- date plans that fell through or were possibly never really finalized. It was typically how it went with Sonic.

With a sigh, Amy set out the rest of her outfit and changed into loungewear for the evening. It wasn’t late, but she also wasn’t doing anything until morning- very early morning. She had already decided to welcome the sunrise on her own, but it was going to be a long day at the festival nonetheless.

The living room was empty when she stepped out. Metal was reading on the back porch when she slid through the doorway, and he acknowledged her with a quick glance and nod. Amy had handed him the 300-page novel about an hour earlier, but the page was already turned halfway through the book. She probably shouldn’t have been as impressed as she was, Amy thought, but it was still a sight. I thought I was a quick reader.

After a few minutes of breathing in the night air and listening to the quick page-turning behind her, Amy turned to Metal’s cross-legged figure on the floor of the deck. “Are you enjoying it?”

Metal nodded without returning her gaze. Another page turned.

Amy leaned on the deck railing, listening as distant waves crashed ashore. It was a pleasantly cool night- she wasn’t shivering without her blanket as she had been for months. She also welcomed the faint scent of rosemary that sprouted from her small garden, having smelled nothing but salt and snow since last autumn. Another crisp page turn.

“You don’t have to finish it in one sitting, you know.” No response. She faced him. “Do you wanna watch a movie with me?”

Metal held up a pointy index finger, signaling to give him a minute. Amy couldn’t help but snort at this gesture, knowing he’d seen someone do it on TV not long ago and was quick to pick up communication cues. There was another brief silence before Metal closed the book, having reached the end of the chapter.

“Do you like it so far?”

Metal gave her a pronounced nod. He was intrigued, reading about the long chain of events leading a triumphant hero home after a conquest overseas. The many adventures and accomplishments described in the writing were compelling, and Metal found himself engrossed in the power fantasy.

Amy nodded. “Thought so. It’s one of my favorites.”

The first time she’d said this, Metal was surprised- but after seeing another side of her at the arcade, he understood. The book’s protagonist was powerful, clever, determined... perhaps she related. Or maybe she was just a fantasy adventure buff; He appreciated the recommendation either way.

“So, about that movie-” Amy was interrupted by a loud ringtone coming from inside. She hurried back into her room to pick up the call.

Admittedly, a movie sounded pretty mundane after everything Metal had read that evening. Most of what he’d done in the last weeks had been mundane. It was strange, being directionless, just waiting for the opportunity to recover his memory. And then what? He was getting used to experiencing unfamiliar affairs; the novelty was wearing off. He could continue waiting for something big to happen- to remember his past life, or have an encounter with his creator- but he knew it ultimately wasn’t what was keeping him there. The real reason peeked through the back door and beckoned him in.

“Tails wants to talk to you,” Amy said as she handed him her device.

“Oh- hi Metal.” Tails still found a certain degree of awkwardness in speaking to the robot directly. He had hoped for Amy to interpret. Metal raised a hand in greeting from the other end. “Hey, would you wanna come over tomorrow so I can take a look at a few things?”

“Tails...” Amy scolded gently from off-screen.

“O-oh right. Uh… how are you?” After seeing Metal look off past the screen with a confused beep, Tails continued. “There’s this chat function if you need it- here.”

A speech bubble came on screen. Tails: Hi!

Metal was less worried about how to communicate than what he would actually say. How do people usually answer that question? He tapped gingerly at the screen.

Amy: Operating normally.

“Ah, that’s good.” There was a pause. Amy had insisted Tails talk to Metal personally, emphasizing that she thought it important to let him speak for himself. Manners and pleasantries were also mentioned, but Tails had a feeling Metal didn’t have a lot of those skills going for him either. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better myself…”

Metal didn’t have a lot of experience with conversations, but it did seem logical to repeat the question. He made a note to do this for next time. As for answering Tails, Metal held his hand in a thumbs-up on screen. The signal seemed to him quite versatile.

“Okay. Anyway, I was wondering if you could come over tomorrow for a checkup? And, maybe we can replace your, you know.”

It had been on Metal’s mind ever since he began to remember seemingly random moments from his past. And he would be in need of recharging and refueling soon, anyway. There was, however, a conflict- he looked up at Amy.

“Are you okay with going to Tails’ by yourself after you drop me off?” she asked.

Though he’d promised her a ride, Amy would be away for the afternoon either way. It didn’t seem to interfere with her plans, so he nodded at Tails and typed a short message.

Amy: 1:25 PM

“Oh,” Tails responded, “that’s… precise. Works for me, I guess.” Another uncomfortable pause. Usually one would continue the conversation in some way, at least acknowledging the agreement, but neither Tails nor Metal really understood what the other was looking for. “Okay, well, see you then. Bye.” Tails chuckled awkwardly before hanging up.

Amy clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “Looks like you have plans for tomorrow! Great.”

Metal wasn’t sure if he considered sitting idle in a lab “plans,” since Tails deactivated him last time and it wasn’t the most pleasant feeling. It was just simple maintenance in his eyes. He shrugged casually, placing the communicator aside.

Hands innocently clasped behind her back, Amy leaned in with her usual charming grin. “Still up for a movie?”

--------

Amy’s taste in films ws, evidently, not like that of her favorite novels. She shoved popcorn into her mouth absent-mindedly as they both sat watching from her couch, Metal’s perpetually confused state causing him to shift focus from the television to Amy and back. “It’s a romantic comedy,” she’d told him. “The main characters are work rivals who really like each other but neither will admit it. It’s pretty funny!” It was no wonder neither of the characters admitted their affection for the other- they were constantly at odds, combative even. Amy swooned every time the two leads competed or argued over something petty and one became flustered.

Perhaps it was his limited understanding of relationships or romance but Metal had been under the impression that couples generally enjoyed one another’s company. But when the film’s protagonist decided to move far away and faced little opposition from the romantic interest, the duo seemed to compete over who could appear more cool and unphased. Just as Metal thought he could predict the ending, Amy chimed in. “Oh, here comes the grand gesture!” Sure enough, one of the characters stopped the other from leaving at the very last moment and feelings of affection were finally shared. “Aww,” he heard Amy sigh dreamily. Watching 86 minutes of tension between those two only to become a couple in the end was beyond vexing.

Amy stretched her arms as the credits rolled. “What did you think of the movie? Cute, right?”

Cute wasn’t the word he would have chosen. Did it really only take a single gesture for people to fall in love? No, they were hiding their affection- but why? He scratched at his forehead instead.

“Confused? Is it ‘cause they were rivals?” she chuckled. Metal bobbed his head around, thinking that was pretty obvious. “Love is complicated,” she stated as matter of fact. “Trust me…” Amy trailed off with a huff before hopping off the couch. “I’m not very sleepy, can we watch another?”

There wasn’t much point in disagreeing, so Amy quickly put on the next film and made herself a hot cup of camomile as the intro began. “This movie’s also a romance, but it’s more of a drama. It’s kind of a tear-jerker,” she giggled.

Did that mean she was going to cry? Why would she be so cheery about that? Whenever Metal thought he began to understand, some little, bewildering nuance made itself known. He would have been annoyed had Amy not plopped herself back down next to him with a flushed smile and excitement in her virescent eyes.

The leads in this film did look to be more interested in each other than the last. They’d spent some time together one spring before becoming separated, and the romantic interest then spent the rest of the movie trying to recapture the protagonists’ affections. It was incredibly long- much slower paced than the last. Amy began yawning about an hour in, and by the time the second act was wrapping up, she’d laid her head on the couch. “I’ll head to bed after this…” she started, but ended up fast asleep on a throw pillow just minutes later.

Metal couldn’t keep himself from glancing at Amy’s sleeping form every few minutes. It became increasingly difficult to concentrate on the television the more he checked on Amy- noting her breathing pattern, heart rate, temperature. A bit cold. He pulled the blanket she kept draped on the back of the couch over her body, resting his head in his hand as he observed her. U nable to focus, he wondered why he was even still watching the film at that point and was about to switch it off when the current scene caught his eye. The couple must have reconciled, as they were now sitting together on a picnic blanket, one’s head laying in the other’s lap. The love interest’s fingers were buried tenderly in the protagonist’s hair as they enjoyed the scenery together.

He gazed back at Amy. She lay with her head inches from his lap, curled up comfortably in her warm blanket. Breathing steadily. Hair splayed out over her makeshift pillow. Metal had to stop himself as he lifted a hand in her direction, shaking his head and fixing his eyes back on the TV. The last scene had apparently been a flashback, as the leads were now much older. One sat at the other’s bedside in a hospital, recounting the memory. The protagonist died moments later. That was… certainly a dark turn. It must be what Amy meant when she mentioned the sorrowful theme.

Metal laid eyes on his friend once more as he contemplated the ending. At least, he attempted to. The scene of the lovers on a picnic blanket was the only thing capable of occupying his mind at that moment. It seemed so peaceful, so quiet. Metal found himself enjoying those tranquil moments during his own day; doubly so if Amy happened to be near. It was what one could call relaxing. And she did seem incredibly comfortable around him - as he did with her. As credits rolled on the screen, he leaned in a little closer to Amy, inching his hand toward her tousled hair. It looked soft and silk-like; inviting even. Would this wake her?

As gently as possible, Metal touched the end of Amy’s quills with his fingertips. They were smoothly brushed down, tapered bluntly to be minimally prickly. He’d often noticed her combing her hair so it laid sleekly out of the way, even seeing her trim the ends once. Though her quills couldn’t scratch or prick him, the mildly wooly texture felt pleasant in his hand. Metal’s fingers crawled up the length of her short bob and towards her scalp, where he combed down any stray pieces that had slipped out of the neatly styled locks in her sleep. Amy stirred slightly and Metal swore his engine stopped functioning for the split second he thought to have awoken her. To his relief, she just nuzzled her face into the cushion a bit before laying still once more.

Her bangs covered her sleeping eyes now. Metal brushed the short wisps away from her face and gazed at her reposeful expression. This is what regular people look like when they rest- tranquil, relaxed, with small, gentle movements. Still but alive. Metal supposed his own idle body was more of a lifeless prop and tried to imagine what actual sleep felt like as he separated thin strands of her hair, letting them glide between his fingers until the ends slid out of his grip and floated back down.

After some time, he checked his clock- it was just past 2:00 AM. Metal was unsure what it meant, but he’d understood Amy wanted to “welcome” the vernal sunrise. He doubted she’d hear the alarm from inside her room. Sunrise would occur at 7:34 AM. She took about 30 minutes to get ready, on average. A few more minutes to travel to the appropriate location. Setting his internal alarm for 6:15, Metal resolved to ensure Amy awoke in time for her strange ritual. He smoothed down any quills he’d misplaced on her head and switched off the TV. It was probably time for him to “rest” as well; but something about Amy sleeping at his side kept him lucid and he sat awake with his thoughts for hours, peeking over at her when she entered his mind. He did this every few minutes.

There was still so much for him to consider. He hadn’t remembered anything new since Amy recounted their last story back on Angel Island. She’d even told him about other times they encountered each other over the years, though they didn’t interact with one another directly for some time. It was fruitless. To Metal, it sounded as if he’d been dragged along on his creator’s various schemes only to lose every time- but none of it was familiar in his mind. If he could think freely, if he could crave autonomy, then why had he stayed with Eggman for so long? How did the man manage to keep Metal on his side for nearly ten years? There must have been something in his memory that could provide an answer. He needed to understand his past perspective.

Metal’s alarm was due to go off in another minute. It was the longest he’d sat on his own, just thinking- no, not on his own; with a friend by his side. Even separated by consciousness, Amy’s presence felt comforting and provided him some fortitude. Metal heard Amy’s alarm go off faintly from her room. He was pleased with himself for predicting just the time she planned to wake up. It didn’t seem to reach her ears, as she continued to snooze, so he tapped her on the shoulder softly until her eyes half-opened.

She grumbled groggily for a moment before shooting up unexpectedly. “Did I- is it the next day?” She looked around frantically. Metal chimed to get her attention and she whipped her head around as her face flushed with embarrassment. “Oh my gosh- did I fall asleep here? I’m so sorry!”

Metal watched her scramble out from under the blanket and grope under the couch for her missing slippers. He was waving his hands in front of him dismissively, but Amy was too panicked to notice. “I probably missed my alarm,” she thought aloud. He finally took hold of her shoulder to get her attention. Then he cocked his head in the direction of the digital clock beneath the TV. 6:17 AM. It was early.

“Oh, I still have time,” she exhaled. Wearing an apologetic smile, she turned back to her friend. “Thanks for waking me. Sorry I kinda took over your bed…” It wasn’t the most eloquent way to put it. Amy could feel her cheeks warming up again. “I should go get ready!”

Amy’s exit from the living room was never complete without tossing the blanket over the back of the couch, which she did more haphazardly than usual before slinking away into her bedroom. Metal sank back into the cushions, now staring out the back door into the predawn darkness. Well equipped to see through the night, he watched absent-mindedly as some palm trees swayed in the distance. The sunrise “woke” him daily, but he supposed this would be his first time observing it. He was sure he’d get a front row seat of the dusk horizon first…

In her room, Amy groomed her hair hastily, still red-faced and slightly shaken. Falling asleep on the couch when you live by yourself is one thing, but it was definitely rude with a roommate present. Wait, roommate? Was Metal living with her really becoming that official? She did her best to perish the thought as she combed her lashes with mascara.

Amy dug up an old wood-beaded necklace and tan belt from her wardrobe, accessorizing her otherwise monochromatic outfit. She slipped on her lightweight dress, tugging on the underskirt as she noticed it bunching in the mirror. She spent far too long adjusting the billowy sleeves and repositioning her belt, still a bit embarrassed to face her house guest. It was a quarter to seven now. Time to get outside and start the ritual before it became too late.

Pulling a small saddle bag over her head, Amy stepped out of the room quietly. “I’ll be back in a bit,” she said as she scuttled toward the back door. To her surprise, Metal was waiting for her just by the exit, leaning against the wall.

Amy floated into the room, looking ethereal in the airy ensemble. Certainly a change from her usual colorful garments and the bulky outerwear she sported to keep her warm. Metal tried to hide the strange delight he felt at the sight of her and casually pointed a thumb out toward the dark outdoors, offering her a ride. She lit up.

“Oh! Did you want to come?” Amy hadn’t expected him to join her, much less after worrying about the awkward situation she found herself in that morning. Finding that Metal didn’t seem to mind was a weight off. ”Well, it’s nothing fancy since I’d have to hike pretty far to get to where you can see eastward clearly. I usually just do it from the beach,” she shrugged, not wanting to get his hopes up. “It’s still nice to watch the sky, though.”

A small miscalculation. Metal assumed Amy would ask for a ride and already knew where they were going- it was obvious to him, anyway. The taller hills on the other side of the valley gave an unobstructed view of the eastern coastline, and there was still time to fly there. He shook his head, offering Amy his outstretched palm. She understood immediately.

“You wanna fly somewhere? Is it close?” He nodded. “Well…” Amy placed a hand over his, feeling herself blush for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning, this time backed by a much more pleasant warmth.

-----

Dawn’s first light illuminated the horizon in soft gray tones as the sun got ready to emerge. Amy’s pale figure practically glowed against the dim morning. She’d adorned herself with a light shawl against the cool air and every inch of her attire trailed behind in the gentle breeze. Metal watched as she wrote in a journal and took clockwise steps around an imaginary circle before sitting on her heels to meditate. It was an unusual ritual, the point of which was lost on him; but learning about the tradition was interesting to Metal, if only because it was so to Amy. After a few minutes, she invited him to sit with her and wait for sunrise.

Metal crossed his legs as he sat by her. He looked ahead into the horizon, but was still observing her rhythmic breathing and occasional soft sigh. “Thanks for bringing me here- it’s definitely a step up from sitting a few feet from the house,” she chuckled. “I usually do this alone. It’s kinda nice having someone to share it with, though.” He nodded at this with a soft, mechanical tone. She turned to him and continued. “The point of doing this isn’t just to watch the sunrise, you know. It’s supposed to help you reflect and get in touch with your surroundings. You’re pretty attentive already- maybe you can try seeing how many sounds you can hear.”

On the surface, it sounded silly; There was hardly a moment when Metal wasn’t contemplating something or listening to his surroundings. Yet he recalled the first time Amy advised him to reflect all those years ago, when the world was new to him. He was just as directionless again now. Back then, he’d ignored all the signs, all the guidance- and from what little he could remember, it didn’t appear to land him anywhere worthwhile. Metal glanced at Amy momentarily before concentrating fully on listening to what occurred around him. Despite the overall quiet, leaves rustled and birds chirped in the distance. The ocean swayed calmly below as little animals scuttled about high in the trees behind him. And then there was Amy- her steady respiration and the light billowing of her dress in the breeze. It was grounding, somehow- Metal’s mind was clear for what felt like the first time in his life.

“It’s rising.” After spending quite some time mostly listening, there was now something to see as well. The sun inched over the horizon, warming the sky with its red and orange light.

Amy pulled out her small journal and scribbled some notes before raising her face toward the rising sun. The sunrise was beautiful, but Metal found himself watching the scene through the reflection in Amy’s shimmering eyes rather than putting much attention to the sky.

“I’ve been thinking,” she finally faced him, “it feels like everything has changed lately. Having you here has been really… different. In a good way.” She paged back and forth through the book with her index finger absently. “But, change can be scary, sometimes. I remember one time...” Amy shook her head anxiously, staring straight out into the ocean. “Well, I guess you could say... you rebelled? Against Eggman.”

Metal listened to her with intrigue. He had hoped that the next thing she’d recount would lead to answers, but so far it was only causing further confusion. If he had rebelled against his master at some point, something in her nervous eyes told him it wasn’t for the better.

The colors up ahead shifted steadily from magenta and lilac to greyish blue as the sun made its way past the horizon. A bright golden column shone in the sea and as Amy squinted in the yellow light, she lowered her eyes to its watery reflection below. Just as she parted her lips to continue, a distinct ZIP came from behind the pair. Amy jerked her body around to look over the other side of the cliff. Metal’s engine was already whirring in annoyance as he predicted what came next.

The breeze turned to a whirlwind momentarily as Sonic skidded to a halt in front of Metal and Amy. The sudden gust sent her dress billowing wildly and the shawl she wore across her shoulders floated up and away, past the eastern edge of the cliff. “Woah!” Sonic jumped for the scarf but it was out of his reach before he could catch it. “Uh, oops,” he chuckled remorsefully.

Amy was about to bemoan the loss of her silky stole when another sudden gust blew back her hair and skirt once more. Metal propelled himself off the cliffside to go after it. Amy and Sonic watched as it drifted just out of Metal’s grasp a few times. Sonic received a dirty look from her when he appeared far too amused at the sight. Metal finally managed to catch it, returning it to its owner.

“Thanks, Metal,” Amy reached out and took hold of her scarf, which, to her dismay, made a harsh ripping sound as she pulled it back toward her. She gasped slightly when she realized it had become unfortuitously caught in Metal’s claws when she attempted to take it back. A lamentful ring came from him in realization. “It’s okay! I can fix it when we get home, don’t worry.” Amy gave her friend a reassuring smile, dawning the scarf over her shoulders once more and folding the tear out of sight. “Thank you, really.”

“Ah, sorry about that,” Sonic apologized from the sideline.

“It’s fine,” Amy exhaled. She didn’t want to sour the tranquility of the morning altogether by having a tantrum. All in all, it was still a nice surprise to see him. “You’re up early.”

Sonic rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s 7:30 in the morning. You really haven’t slept all night?”

“Nope,” he snickered. “Hey, am I interrupting? I need to talk to you.”

“Well,” Amy sighed, turning back to Metal. “Let’s talk later, okay?” If Sonic was looking for her, it must have been important.

Metal looked from Sonic back to Amy with crossed arms. He would have made some sassy response if she didn’t return his gaze so pleadingly, preemptively beaming with gratitude. With a nod, he offered her a hand getting up that she graciously accepted.

Sonic cleared his throat. “Sorry, mind if we get a little privacy? I’ll walk you home so we can chat.”

Even though she knew his intent wasn’t malicious, Amy still frowned at Sonic’s request in the wake of how rude it must have sounded to her friend. “Could you meet me back home, Metal?” He simply returned with a reluctant nod which she thanked him for. Amy waved him off as her and Sonic started down the hillside.

“You’re good with walking, right?” Sonic nodded toward Amy’s open footwear, which didn’t seem the most comfortable for a hike.

“I’ll be fine! Is everything okay?”

“Well…”

Their voices drifted away before Metal could catch anything significant; not that he was looking to eavesdrop. It would be at least a 30-minute hike down, then another few minutes before they arrived at the beach. Metal stared into the horizon for the better part of that time, trying desperately to remember something- anything- about what Amy had begun recounting. He’d rebelled. It was as Metal suspected: he hadn’t remained completely loyal all those years. Wasn’t it the same as what he was doing now? Why hadn’t Amy said anything earlier? Metal raised his palm to eye-level, examining his sharp fingers and wondering uneasily what suffering came at those cold hands.

.........................................................

hi babes- thanks for reading as always. reminder i’m adding songs to the playlist each chapter and if you have a suggestion, shoot it my way

oh and someone asked if this is on a03 and it is! in case you’d like to bookmark it. i post here first though!

#metamy #metal sonic #amy rose #metal sonic x amy rose #unfamiliar #ch. 12

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aer-in-wanderland · 4 years ago

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구미호뎐 | Tale of the Nine Tailed - Jo Bo Ah Q&A Wrap Interview

Q: From around the start of summer to the beginning of winter, you spent a long time with Tale of the Nine Tailed. How did you feel when you finished filming your final scene?

I think more than anything I felt that it was too bad. It was my longest collaboration ever, living as Ji Ah and Ah Eum for over 7 months. To the extent that it was multi-genre, from fantasy to action, thriller, and even romance, I think I immersed myself in filming with a great deal of concentration. So I think it’s a production that will remain in my heart for a particularly long time. I hope the viewers will also remember ‘Nam Ji Ah’ for a long time.

Q: You played a character three dimensional enough to have been considered 4 roles in 1. When you acted, what did you focus on most?

In this production you can think of me as having played four roles: Ji Ah and Imoogi-possessed Ji Ah, and Ah Eum and Imoogi-possessed Ah Eum. For my main character Ji Ah, from the start I analyzed her a lot and talked with the writer and director a great deal while creating her. When I threaded Imoogi into gallant and chic Ji Ah, I raised the tone of my voice so that it would contrast with hers, and I worked to express Imoogi with a cruel manner of speech and expressions. Also, because I thought of the Imoogi from her previous life and her current life as one and the same, I also acted Ji Ah who had changed into Imoogi while watching the scenes where Ah Eum changed into Imoogi.

Q: Ah Eum’s action scenes in [Ji Ah’s] past life left a strong impression. Do you think you might want to try your hand at something in the action genre?

Seeing as how I encountered the action genre for the first time in this production, I felt a bit of dread and was quite afraid. But while commuting to action school and preparing ahead of time and then working with the stunt director and my counterpart actors on set, the process of making each scene cut by cut was actually really thrilling. Action acting, which has a different quality to it than any acting I’ve done so far, felt novel to me and was really really fun.

Also, the completed scenes were edited even more convincingly that what I had imagined, so I think I felt quite accomplished. If there are action roles that I can pull off in the future, I’ve developed the desire to try my hand at them.

Q: Nam Ji Ah was a confident and strong-willed character, but there were many scenes in which she sheds tears. What’s the secret to shedding tears?

There’s no secret technique to crying well. It’s a little embarrassing, but while not only Ji Ah, but Ah Eum too, were strong people, the circumstances and pain that the two carry was well illustrated in the story. I think that when I felt that [pain] and thought about it the tears came naturally.

Q: There was a lot of buzz about you being a ‘visual [highly attractive] couple,’ but how was your collaboration with Lee Dong Wook?

Lee Dong Wook sunbae-nim is the type who leads well. From the time the drama began to when it ended, I depended on him a lot and received help from him, and I learned from him as we filmed. To the extent that sunbae-nim took the lead for me and I did my best to follow him, I think our unique chemistry was well expressed, and I’m very thankful that the viewers looked on us favorably.

Q: You made self-produced promotional videos with Lee Dong Wook and uploaded them to social media, but what was the impetus for that?

To the extent that we spent a long time preparing the production, the affection we had for it was very great for the both of us. And so I think our feelings of wanting to introduce and promote the production we had worked so hard on to even a few more people were exactly in sync. So we both decided to do our best to make something. It began with us deciding to try making use of the end of episode 2 when Ji Ah changes into Imoogi and grabs Lee Yeon by the throat and make it like a parody and went from there.

Q: The straight-ball lines that you threw at Lee Rang (Kim Beom) were particularly intense. Are there any lines that you felt, ‘this is going too far’?

There were really a lot of lines that I felt went too far (laughs). “You look like s**t in that suit,” these sort of lines. I think the parts when she’s with Lee Rang using expletives or speaking very strongly really served to highlight Ji Ah’s unique appeal. And so for me, of all my lines in the drama, I think the strong lines I said to Lee Rang were my favorite. (laughs)

Q: If you had to pick the most memorable episode that happened while filming what would it be?

I think, in any case, the scene I care for and love the most is the scene in her previous life containing Ah Eum and Lee Yeon’s sad circumstances. As soon as I received the script I really cried a lot [reading it], and when we were filming it, it actually took me a lot of effort to hold back my tears because I had to die and leave Lee Yeon behind. Because we filmed deep in the quiet forest for three days with a high degree of concentration, I feel like I was able to do so without any regrets. It’s the most memorable scene for me.

Q: How do you imagine the story continues after the final episode?

At the end there is a scene almost like an epilogue where Lee Yeon meets the Samjae and his eyes suddenly change, right? If it turns out that Lee Yeon still has some bit of his power as a mountain god left, then I think it would be interesting if Ji Ah, who belongs completely to the human world, and Lee Yeon, who has a small amount of supernatural powers, live as a couple who help the weak and misfortunate together like the Avengers.

Q: Finally, something you’d like to say to the viewers who loved Tale of the Nine Tailed?

I’d like to express my sincere thanks to the many people who have loved Tale of the Nine Tailed this far. All productions are precious [to me], but this production is one that I will really think back on a lot. I received a lot of love via this drama, and since I had wanted to show that this side of actress Jo Bo Ah also exists, and it seems that that was expressed even a little bit, it’s a production I’m very grateful to.

#tale of the nine tailed #jo bo ah #I feel like we don't talk enough about how amazing JBA was in totnt #I don't know if I've ever seen something where the heroine and primary antagonist are played by the same actress #but she slayed at both #wrap interview #my translations #sidus hq #구미호뎐 #조보아 #종영 인터뷰 #totnt interview

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ultrahpfan5blog · 4 years ago

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Watching Snyderverse Part 3 - Zack Snyder’s Justice League

After BvS, I was honestly not particularly looking forward to Justice League. For me, it was obvious that Snyder’s versions of these characters and his overall doom and gloom approach was not something I was particularly enjoying despite some promising elements in both MoS and BvS. Then we saw exactly how JL production went down. Despite the happy face they tried to paint, the fact that there was going to be a 2 hour mandate, the fact that Whedon basically reshot a bunch of Snyder’s film with the film being a mishmash of two directors who couldn’t be any more different in their sensibilities, and that that the actors, specifically Ben Affleck, looked like they couldn’t wait to be done with this movie and this role, made it obvious that the movie wasn’t going to turn out well. So my expectations were rock bottom for the theatrical cut. As it happens, that was a good thing. The theatrical cut of JL is a thoroughly unremarkable movie. I don’t abhor it but it is so obviously a patchwork job and a studio mandated film that there is no passion or vision in the movie at all. I mean, I didn’t like BvS much at all, but there was a vision there. Theatrical cut of JL seemed like a film that felt like WB just felt they had to put out there and then move on. And then years later, we get Zack Snyder’s full version of Justice League. I watched it in one sitting, which was maybe a mistake because it is heavy viewing for 4 hours. Without a doubt it is a better movie than the theatrical cut. Its a little tough to judge this film because this is no way a movie that would have been released theatrically. But its also impossible to judge on what it may have been if it was edited down to a 3 hour length. So best to just judge it on its own merits.

Firstly, the positives. This is definitely a more coherent and clear movie. The plot is not rushed and every sequence, be it a character moment or an action sequence, is fully realized without any weird edits. The film does have some more humor than the previous two Snyder films. Mainly courtesy of Ezra Miller and Jeremy Irons. And the humor is not awkward like in the theatrical cut. Ezra Miller in particular benefits from that because some of his cringey lines from the theatrical edition are cut. The special effects are largely impressive and definitely an improvement over the theatrical edition. On a character level, definitely Cyborg gets the most benefit out of all the characters. As we get a full and thorough backstory for him. We get insight into his relationship with both his parents. Steppenwolf also gets significantly more screen time and his motivations are definitely more clearly defined in the movie than in the theatrical. Miller and Momoa also get some more scenes to flesh out their individual characters. What does surprise me is that the film contains a lot of scenes which are essentially just alternate versions of scenes from the theatrical cut. The film isn’t radically different from the theatrical version, but the scenes included in this version feel a little more real. Like a scene with the entire League discussing Superman’s return in the theatrical cut made it obvious that the actors weren’t in the same room together, whereas the original scene in this movie has them clearly in the same physical space. The Superman scenes are also infinitely better without the CGI upper lip. Thankfully, Snyder doesn’t do what he did with the previous two movies and gives some breathing room between action sequences. Probably a bit too much time, but that’s better than no time at all. the tunnel action sequence and the climax set piece is definitely pretty cool. Flash actually having an active role in the climax was a big improvement. My favorite action sequence is still the Superman vs the League because it shows just how powerful Superman can be. Also, the color palette is a lot more consistent and better than the weird bright and red color palette that is used in the theatrical cut.

When it comes down to the performances from the cast, nobody really stands out. They are all fine, but unlike in BvS, where Affleck stood out. Everybody here is just motoring along. In the theatrical cut, Affleck looked completely checked out. I was hoping the original cut would beef up his performance. While it is slightly better, he’s still just a bit too restrained in the role and doesn’t leave the type of impression he left in BvS. Everyone is at their most dour self. Gal Gadot’s WW is more serious and therefore does not get to show her more radiant side in Patty Jenkins’ movies, Momoa is also similarly more dour and serious and not quite as fun as he was in Aquaman. Ray Fisher is decent but its a role that requires him to be very robotic for large chunks of the film. So its a little difficult to assess his performance. Cavill is in far too little of the movie to give much of a performance. He’s perfectly fine in the handful of scenes he has. Miller is probably the best of the lot, even though he’s still more Peter Parker than Barry Allen. Some of the supporting cast actually fare a little better. Irons is a delight whenever he’s on screen and Affleck is also at his best when they have scenes together. That dynamic works. Joe Morton is surprisingly affecting as Silas Stone, as is Billy Crudup in his brief scenes as Henry Allen. Its always nice to see more of Willem Dafoe, Diane Lane, Connie Nielsen, and JK Simmons. Simmons as Gordon was great casting and its a pity we won’t get to see more of him in that role. Amber Heard for some perplexing reason has a British accent in this film as Mera. Given Dafoe and Momoa both speak in their normal voices, that must have been a choice. It did feel a bit funny. Jared Leto and Jesse Eisenberg are back as Joker and Lex and neither of them particularly improve on their performances. I mean, they have a scene each so its no harm done, but the Joker scene particularly drags on for too long. Amy Adams has a small role and she does manage to make to get some emotion out of a handful of scenes.

The film has more than its fair share of issues. Firstly, it is just way, way too long. The pacing is glacially slow at times. And I mean that in the most literal manner. There is so much slow mo in this movie, its crazy. I swear, if you removed the slow motion, you might lose 20 minutes of the run time. Snyder is clearly in desperate need of an editor here. The film has the exact opposite problem of the theatrical cut. Whereas in the theatrical cut, it always felt that every scene was just edited a little too short, in this movie there are scenes that are going on for far too long. There are some very strange edits. Like an entire scene where women in the village are singing hyms when Arthur leaves and smelling his clothes. There is a meet cute between Iris and Barry which is completely unnecessary and is frankly slightly creepy where Barry is caressing her face while she is in the process of being thrown out of her car. Some music choices in these scenes are also a little bizarre. Everything involving the Martian Manhunter is not necessary. I mean, his involvement in a crucial Martha and Lois scene actually takes away from the emotion of that moment. And then he has a very tacked on final scene which is kind of awkward. The Knightmare scene also drags for a bit too long, especially given they are supposed to be in danger while being out in the open. We still have no more clarity as to why Bruce is having these visions. The slow pace does make things boring at times as well. While I am glad that Cyborg’s backstory gets beefed up, there is a bit too much of Cyborg being angry at his father. After a while, it gets monotonous. The film takes too long to get the team together and the first JL action sequence doesn’t happen until over 2 hours into the movie. The film should have spent a bit more time with the team interacting with one another. That’s what made the Avengers movies work and some of the best parts of this movie are also the team together. There are some Snyder tone deaf moments as per usual. While WW’s entry action sequence is very cool, I do find it funny that they have her comforting a girl and the girl wanting to be just like her after she basically obliterates the terrorist into dust. Given her abilities shown in that sequence, there is no reason she wouldn’t have been able to disable him. But instead she just obliterates him. Its all very Snyder. I do also have to wonder about that sequence. I still don’t get exactly how terrorists feel that blowing up a few city blocks will bring down the modern age. I thought this was a weird Whedon thing but it turns out to be a weird Snyder thing. Also, for all the hype about the black suit Superman, its really nothing more than an aesthetic choice for no rhyme or reason. I honestly prefer the Blue and Red if the black suit doesn’t have a point, like the restorative factor from the comics. Also, for all the blame people put on Whedon about the skimpy outfits on Amazons and the weird backside shots of WW, turns out they were all Snyder. There are a few select things that the Whedon cut did slightly better. For example, there is no real major debate or conflict within the team other than minor objections from Arthur over the implications of using the mother box to bring back Superman. Also, a sequence in the theatrical cut where Bruce admits that Clark was more human that he was, is a better version of a similar scene in this movie. Also, while not perfectly executed, the theatrical cut did acknowledge that Bruce was a human fighting amongst superpowered individuals. Also, most importantly, while Steppenwolf is an improvement over the theatrical cut, this is still a movie where the plot involves a villain trying to find three boxes. Steppenwolf is still pretty boring and the main story is not interesting at all. The Darkseid angle of this story is also overhyped since he’s barely in the film.

In the end, it feels that there is a pretty decent 3 hour movie hidden in an ok but dragged out 4 hour film. I’m glad the Snyder fans got to see it. I have had my issues with Snyder’s vision. While I feel he has grand ambitions and a sense of scale and scope, he hasn’t really got the sense of story and script to really make it work to a degree where the audience at large would appreciate it. I have seen his old storyboards and read his recent interviews about what he was going to do. It sounds very grand and very cool, but with a big potential of being a gigantic mess. Who knows what will happen in the future but at least it right now seems that they are moving on from Snyder’s vision. For this film, I am right now landing at about a 6/10, which is the highest mark out of all the Snyder DC movies. I’ve only watched it once and watching it again is a big endeavor so I won’t do it anytime soon, but maybe revisiting it will make me either like it more or less.

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beastars-takes · 5 years ago

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Zootopia Takes: The Power of Really Liking Each Other

Our main event, Beastars Takes, will resume soon, but in the meantime I want to talk about one of my favorite movie relationships:

Has this been talked about to death by other people? Yes. But this is my blog and I write it for free so I can do what I want.

Note: this is not a shipping post--this is just an examination of their canonical relationship in the movie and why it rules.

At first glance, this is your typical enemies-to-friends story. I love those. But while the typical arc tends to involve two characters who can’t stand each other, who eventually develop a grudging respect for one another (often through some kind of shared ordeal) and maybe thaw into actual friendliness at the end. Zootopia packs all of that into the first half--by the midway point they are clearly not just allies, but friends, and by the end of the film they’re inseparable.

It’s important to recognize this isn’t just for the hell of it, or just to be cute--the closeness and trust they build is the linchpin of their success in the final moments of the movie.

All the reasons why, after the jump.

Something I talked about in the previous post was the messaging of Zootopia, and I don’t want to rehash it too much here. It’s a movie about prejudice, and the work it takes to overcome it. A key theme (one that it shares with Beastars, incidentally) is that friendships with those who are different from you are hard--but they are worth it.

Part 1: They Hate Each Other! (Right?)

Now...it goes without saying that when these two first meet, they bounce off each other hard. Each is seeing the other at their absolute worst.

Judy can’t stand Nick because he takes every bit of optimism she has about this world and throws it back in her face. She want to use him as a prop in her vision of an equal society, where “not all foxes” are crooks. He laughs at her. He humiliates her. All he has to do is walk away, but he takes his time. He twists the knife.

For his part, Nick sees a laughably ineffectual bunny who condescends to him and threatens him with jail for the crime of...humiliating her. She may not personally be a threat to him, but she wields the institutional power of the ZPD--a power he has plenty of reason to be afraid of--and she does it irresponsibly.

On first viewing, Nick inarguably wins this exchange. He avoids arrest, reads her to absolute filth and leaves her stuck in cement.

And he makes her really sad. Nice!

But, and I don’t pretend to be the first person to have pointed this out, on second viewing it’s obvious he can guess her story so well because it’s basically his story. The only difference, in his mind, is that he’s accepted the reality that he’ll never be allowed to live the life he wants, while she is still vainly pursuing hers.

I don’t know about you, dear reader, but the people I’ve met who have always most pissed me off are the people who remind me of things I hate about myself. The people who seem to embody the flaws I’ve worked to minimize. Nick’s naive hope is what has brought him the most pain in his life. He sees this bunny full of the same naive hope, surmises that she’s facing the same failures he did and yet stubbornly refusing to learn from them. It’s irritating.

Pictured: irritation.

Maybe I am projecting, but if Nick is anything like me, he probably didn’t walk away entirely happy from this exchange. Yes, he “won,” but he was also reminded of everything about himself that he least wanted to think about.

Part 2: They Are Not Very Good at Hating Each Other

So, the thing about Judy is, she is naive. By default, she assumes people are her friend. But she’s not stupid.

Nick assumes she is stupid, not least because she hasn’t wisely given up on her dreams like he has, and...he learns that she maybe not so fun to pick on after all.

So they wind up doing the first part of this enemies-to-friends routine, allies of necessity.

So, naturally, because he is Him, he makes it his mission to torment her.

In fact, we get two whole scenes where all he does he does is watch her struggle and make this face.

The first read of this behavior is that he’s just enjoying the failures of someone he hates. He says as much later. But I would also argue--from a viewer’s perspective--Judy is ridiculously entertaining and charming throughout these encounters. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and it’s hard not to like people like that.

Is there more happening here than just schadenfreude? I won’t pretend to know for sure. But worth considering.

By the time they’re investigating the limousine, his sabotage has diminished into something more like gentle trolling. And you can’t see this face, in context...

...and tell me she isn’t starting to like him, at least a little bit.

He’s also starting to help! By the time they’re past the minor detour of almost being murdered by a mob boss, he’s entirely cooperative, helping her conduct interviews and look for clues. The movie doesn’t call particular attention to this, but it almost did.

Finally, let’s look at Nick’s behavior when they’re being chased by a rabid jaguar. He could have absolutely booked it, with no regard for the cop who was blackmailing him into helping her.

These moments go by so quickly, but they’re hugely revealing of his true character, even before he defends her in front of Chief Bogo.

He picks her up when she falls.

More importantly, when he gets to the skytram, his first instinct isn’t to jump in--it’s to hold the door for her:

He sees she can’t make it, and she even tells him to leave without her. He doesn’t. He holds the door until he can’t anymore, and as a result he’s nearly killed.

Nick is a good boy.

Part 3: They Are Friends Now

She save his life, so he saves her job. This is a key story beat, and it’s a Disney movie, so there’s not a lot of subtlety (except how the specular highlights in Judy’s eyes fade as Bogo asks for her badge--the light literally goes out of her. Go watch).

But it’s such a sweet moment of teamwork--he was contemptuous toward her from the start because she believed in herself. This is the first time she’s simply given up in the whole movie, and he steps up. Because he believes in her now.

And she believes in him! Or, she wants to.

Judy’s supportiveness here is sweet, but it’s also still a little selfish. It’s not that different from their interaction at the ice cream shop, really: she wants to meet a fox who defies stereotypes, who is easy for her to like. Someone who ticks all the boxes to prove her family wrong.

When he starts being more foxy, later--self-identifying as a predator, showing his claws, challenging her--we learn that her supportiveness is conditional.

Am I being too hard on her? Sure. She’s been in bunny country her whole life. She’s new to this and she’s trying. But that’s where she’s at.

But still! They’re friends now. They’re no longer pretending they don’t like each other. Judy’s openly encouraging, Nick is fully in her corner, and we get a few cute sequences where they keep being more and more impressed with each other.

He’s still not above affectionately messing with her, and she’s getting worse at pretending to dislike it.

And he trusts her enough to let her flush him down a toilet...

Which gives us this heartbreaking shot where he thinks she’s drowned. He cares a whole lot about this bunny.

She likes him too! Enough to want to team up on a more permanent basis. This is pretty standard-fare enemies-to-friends stuff now, but considering where we started, and considering they’ve known each other for all of two days? Not bad!

It’s clear this moment means far more to him than it does to her, too. It’s actually taken very little persuading from Judy to get him to step up and be brave and helpful and trustworthy. The fact that he’s turned around and opened up to her so fast suggests he’s been ready for an opportunity like this for his entire life, and never got it. I mean, look at his face.

The foundational flaw in her worldview is still there, though, and it’s about to do almost-irreparable damage to their whirlwind friendship.

Part 5: Fuck!

So Judy gives her press conference, and gives a great example of why police usually answer every question with “the matter is currently under investigation,” or “we’re not prepared to comment further at this time.” Honestly, though, this is on Bogo--I had coworkers who once did some press interviews, and they spent over a week doing media training. They didn’t even break a major kidnapping case. So, you know.

So she repeats some weird race science stuff she assumes is true because someone in a lab coat said it, which is amusingly similar to how race science (or “race realism”) often propagates--people with low-rent doctorates from crappy universities write a bunch of scientifically shoddy material and people say “well, he has a PhD!”

And then Nick has a PTSD flashback? I don’t want to be irresponsible and make an armchair diagnosis, but also...that is absolutely what is depicted on screen.

You’re not immediately “better” after something like this, which is why I cut Nick a bit of slack when he basically blows up their friendship.

Judy...doesn’t get it. It’s completely heartbreaking, because she likes him, and doesn’t understand why he’s mad, and isn’t self-reflective enough to stop and think maybe he has a point. Not until it’s too late. He tests her, and she fails.

Their friendship has always been a little inequal. He’s trusted her with everything, shown her his deepest vulnerabilities. She’s never trusted him completely.

So he leaves.

I don’t want to impugn her professionalism by suggesting she wouldn’t have quit the force if she hadn’t had that friendship-ending fight, but, you know. Maybe.

This is the second time she gives up, and this time he’s not there to pick her up again.

Judy is intensely goal-oriented, and I don’t think she realized what Nick’s friendship meant to her, as the first person in the city who truly believed in her, until it was too late. Judy is sweet and well-meaning but emotional intelligence is not really her strong suit (which is actually cool to see in a female Disney protagonist, imo).

So, while it would have been nice for her to track Nick down immediately and apologize, I think it makes sense for them to spend time apart. Her own self-perception has been shattered, and she needs time to figure out how she went so wrong.

So when she does come back, she delivers one of the best animated apologies I’ve ever seen. Only AtLA compares, in my mind.

Part 6: They Are Much Better Friends Now

Nick forgives her, because of course he does.

(Sidebar--people talk about how he kept her carrot pen the whole time they were apart. He also kept his handkerchief from Ranger Scouts, AND he only wears shirts that match the wallpaper in his mother’s house. He desperately needs a hug.)

Credit to Nick also, who can’t fight and has no police training whatsoever, who has multiple times been almost killed helping her out, now agreeing to help her out again. She’s not even threatening him with jail this time!

We, the viewers, are then rewarded with this great montage of them being best friends.

She’s finally stopped pretending not to be amused by his shenanigans.

(One other sidebar here--Nick is canonically a really gentle character. For all their adventuring, this is only time in the movie he gets physical with anyone: to protect the bunny. Again, he definitely can’t fight and immediately gets smacked across the room. But it’s the thought that counts, right?)

Per the post title, more visual evidence of them really liking each other.

Judy trips on a dead body, and here we get the second time in the movie that Judy tells Nick to leave without her, and he won’t--this time, he refuses explicitly.

Which then gives us the opportunity for the big moment--the culmination of all this care and intimacy and trust.

In order to con Bellwether, she lets him stalk her, and bite her throat. This has been often pointed out, but it’s important--throughout the movie, Judy’s wriggling rabbit nose has been used as a signifier of fear and suspicion. It wriggles when she’s spying on Nick at the beginning. It wriggles like hell when he confronts her after her press conference.

Not here. Doesn’t move. It’s a great, clearly intentional animation choice that tells a close observer (or more likely, a repeat viewer) that she’s completely unafraid.

She trusts him.

I could write a whole other post about how well-scripted this movie is, how every scene is doing half a dozen different things, but the way the personal and the professional come together here, the way the threads of prejudice and friendship and the police case all tie together in this moment. It’s good shit.

This is basically where things end, in terms of character development, but we get a bunch more shots of them clearly adoring each other:

So there it is.

To sum up, certainly not suggesting this movie invented “characters liking each other,” or anything like that. But it goes above and beyond in portraying a friendship that’s not just one born of circumstance, one that’s authentic and unmistakably loving. Characters who enjoy spending time with each other, regardless of what’s going on around them.

I hope everyone is able to experience friendships like that. I absolutely treasure the few I have.

Appendix: The Shipping Thing

I hope I’ve made all this ship-agnostic, which was my intention. I personally like the ship, and I think the reason it resonates with people is because that love and trust and closeness is clearly there, and a romantic relationship creates a lot more easy opportunities for dialing those things up even higher.

I would also argue, if pressed, that the amount of teasing and physicality that happens reads as pretty flirty. If they were humans I knew in real life, I’d definitely think there was something going on there. But I’m an American, where touching and emotional intimacy tends to be read as romantic. Also, animals are a lot more cuddly than humans. So who knows? I think it’s perfectly reasonable to read them as platonic friends until the end of time.

But, one way or another, they love each other a lot. Shout out to this, one of the most emotionally rewarding relationships I’ve ever seen in a cartoon.

#zootopia #zootropolis #zootopia takes #judy hopps #nick wilde #disney

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natromanxoff · 5 years ago

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Queen live at Colston Hall in Bristol, UK - November 18, 1975

The photos could be from either night.

This article from the November 29 issue of Sounds chronicles the second night in Bristol.

Queen triumphant

QUEEN ARE the type of group that make a man want to abandon rock writing. They pose questions and never provide answers. They exist in their own space-time continuum, visible and audible but keeping their secrets to themselves.

On the surface they couldn't be a nicer bunch of people, but they carry English reticence to an epitome. It isn't, as Geoff Barton said two weeks ago, that they're boring, it's just that they're reserved. Or in writer parlance, they don't automatically provide colourful copy. All my instincts as a writer tell me that there is a great story in that band, but after two nights with them I'm hardly any the wiser.

Skin tight

That their insularity has a lot to do with them being one of the most amazing heavy-metal and/or rock bands in Britain - with all the signs that they'll end up monsters on the order of Zep - is fairly obvious, but just how much bearing it has on the matter is hard to say. The enigmas they might pose mightn't even have answers.

Is there any logical reason why they present an image and persona straight out of the Beatles school of interlocking chemistry?

John is reserved, almost nonchalant on stage, as if it's all in a small, personal joke. When asked how he saw himself within the framework of the band he replied, with a small smile, "I'm the bassist".

Roger is his opposite, the cheeky sidekick in a Clint Eastwood movie, and attracting a lot of cheesecake attention in America and Japan.

Freddie is an original - one of the most dynamic singers to tread the boards in quite a few years. His attraction is obvious.

Brian is perhaps the biggest enigma of all. What is this seemingly frail, gaunt astronomer doing on that stage, striding purposefully and blasting diamond-hard rock? They're all equally strong personalities - like the Beatles there's no one major focal point. Ask four fans who their dream Queen is and you'll get four different answers.

Queen have been busy lads these past few months. Having disassociated themselves from their former management and joined with John Reid, the fourth album was seen to. Reid decided that a tight schedule wouldn't cause them undue harm, and figured on two months to record before embarking on this current tour.

Only Queen are driven to better each previous album - which at this stage of the game is obviously producing some excellent results - and 'A Night At The Opera' turned into a saga - culminating in 36-hour mixing sessions in an effort to allow at least a few days for rehearsal. In the end they managed three and a half days at Elstree with four hours off to videotape the promotional film for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'.

Their first few dates had not been without errors and the quartet were still not feeling totally comfortable their second night in Bristol, fourth night of the tour. You'd never know it, though.

Like all other aspects of the group, the stage is sophisticated. A black scrim provides a backdrop bounded by a proscenium of lights both front and rear. At each side the p.a. rises like a mutant marriage of Mammon and Robby the Robot. Amp power is readily evident but the most extraordinary is Brian May's subtle set up: nine Vox boxes stepping back in rows of three. The only packing crate visible is holding a tray of drinks, and you may rest assured that no roadie will rush, crawl or lurk across the stage while the show is in progress unless it's to rescue Freddie's mike from the clawing crowd.

As the auditorium darkens the sound of an orchestra tuning up is heard over the p.a. The conductor taps his baton on the music stand and a slightly effete voice welcomes the audience to A Night At The Opera. The Gilbert & Sullivan portion of 'Bohemian Rhapsody' follows, a brief glimpse of Freddie is allowed, and then in a blast of flares and white smoke the blitzkrieg begins.

Roger is barely visible behind his kit, just his eyes and tousled locks. John is wearing a white suit and playing the-man-who-must-stand-still-or-it-will-all-blow-away. Brian is slightly medieval in his green and white Zandra Rhodes top, while Freddie is...

Around his ankles his satin white pants flare like wings - fleet footed Hermes. Everything north of the knee is skin tight - tighter than skin tight - with a zip-up front open to AA rating. But further south, definitely in X territory, lurks a bulge not unlike the Sunday Telegraph.

There have been sex objects and sex bombs, superstar potency and the arrogant presentation of this all-important area, but never has a man's weaponry been so flagrantly showcased. Fred could jump up on the drum stand and shake his cute arse, leap about and perform all manner of amazing acrobatics, but there it was, this rope in repose, barely leashed tumescence, the Queen's sceptre. Oh to be that hot costume, writhing across the mighty Fred!

Phallic

Freddie is not pretty in the conventional sense of the word; like Mick Jagger of '64, he is his own convention. Also like the Jagger of the time, his stage persona and action is unlike anything else. Although it borrows - like most of the group's plagiarisms - slightly from Zeppelin, in tandem with Freddie's supreme assurance and belief in himself - he always refers to himself as a star - it explodes into something that is a constant delight to watch.

He reacts to his audience almost like an over-emotional actress - Gloria Swanson, say, or perhaps Holly Woodlawn playing Bette Davis. At the climax of the second night in Bristol he paused at the top of the drum stand, looked back over the crowd and with complete, heartfelt emotion placed his delicate fingers to lips and blew a kiss. Any person who can consume themselves so completely in such a clichéd showbiz contrivance deserves to be called a star.

Freddie's real talent, though, is with his mike stand. No Rod Stewart mike stand callisthenics here, just a shortee stick that doubles as a cock, machine gun, ambiguous phallic symbol, and for a fleeting moment an imaginary guitar. He has a neat trick of standing quite still in particularly frantic moments and holding the stand vertically from his crotch up, draw a fragile finger along its length, ever closer to the taunting eyes that survey his audience.

Their show contains lots of bombs and smoke, lots of lights, lots of noise. They fulfil the function of supremely good heavy metal - i.e. you don't get a second to think about what's going on. When they do let up for a few minutes, it's only so you can focus in on the bright blue electric charge crackling between your ears.

Bulldozer

Dominating the sound is Roger's drumming, a bulldozer echo that bounces like an elastic membrane, meshing with your solar plexus so that your body pulses in synch with the thunder. Tuned into that, everything else is just supremely nice icing.

For three days rehearsal, after eight months off the road Bristol was extremely impressive. In speculative mood I quizzed people on how long they thought it would take to headline Madison Square Garden. I was thought a radical at a year and a half. John Reid smilingly assured me it would take a year.

That Queen should end up with John Reid is an entirely logical proceeding. Everything about Queen demands that the world eventually kowtows at their feet in complete acquiescence - so big that bodyguards have to accompany them at every step. Well, no - they found that an annoyance in Japan, but, you know, huge.

Such status demands a Reid or a Peter Grant, and whatever the causes for their leaving Jack Nelson and Trident, an elegant group like Queen is going to look for a man with class. Reid found the idea of managing a group interesting, and having to deal with four strong personalities a challenge. He only concerns himself with their business and ensuring that the year ahead is mapped out. In January they begin a jaunt through the Orient, Australia and America, by which time it's March and they begin preparations for the next album.

Reid's prediction of a year was proven highly credible the next evening in Cardiff. The band had still not paused from the rush up to the tour and spent most of the day relaxing and sleeping - no doubt a factor in their near recumbent profile. Also, unlike most groups, they were keeping their dissatisfaction with the show to themselves.

They stopped off at Harlech TV on the way to see a cassette of the video for 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. The general consensus was quite good for four hours, with much laughter during the operetta. Brian finds film of the group educational - the first time he saw himself was a Mike Mansfield opus for 'Keep Yourself Alive' - "It was 'All right fellows, give it everything you've got but don't move off that spot.' It was terrible." You don't like Mansfield, eh? "Oh, I hate him - we all do... I was horrified when I saw it - I couldn't believe we looked that bad. I looked very static - seeing myself has taught me a lot about stage movement. Some of the things I do are planned for effect, but it's mostly just feeling the audience and communicating that back to them."

Arriving at the motel - several miles out of town - Freddie immediately fell asleep, John held court of a sort, joined later by Brian, while Roger went jogging, a daily event when touring. Tuning in to rock via Bill Haley and Tommy Steele, he became a drummer because he was better at it than guitar. All through school he was in bands; he only went to dental school out of "middle class conditioning, and it was a good way to stay in London without having to work". His mother thought it a bit strange when he opted for a career as a rock star, but she doesn't worry too much now.

The concert starts in much the same manner as the previous night, but there are signs that tonight is work, with posing an afterthought. The endings to most of their songs are magnificent and majestic, especially 'Flick Of The Wrist' and the rapid harmonies of 'Bad Boy Leroy Brown'.

Maniacal

The audience, seeing their faces in town for the first time, are vociferous in their appreciation. Guys know all the words to every song, yelling enthusiastically at every effect and solo. The band picks up, Freddie receiving the crowd beneficently, telling them they’re beautiful.

As the show builds it is obvious that things are gelling more. The previous night Brian had seemed totally out of place, not moving too much, taking solos with the weirdest half blank half possessed stare, talking to himself; cocking ear towards guitar. He was the proverbial stranger in a strange land, one step removed from the plane inhabited by you and me.

Tonight he moves fluidly, the gonzo lead guitarist of a gonzo band. His expressions are just as maniacal, but it only makes him look more demonic. His solo in 'Brighton Rock', an exposition in riffing and echo, is a treat because of his physical response to both music and audience, complete with ham acting. Freddie gets into the same game on 'The Prophet's Song', where he conducts an acapella madrigal with himself. It's a pretty commanding moment.

It’s soon after this that Madison Square seems reasonable. About a minute into 'Stone Cold Crazy' it becomes very obvious that Queen have suddenly Plugged In. Found the metal music machine and Connected. Freddie's movements explode in perfect unison with the music, the lights and surroundings go crazy, and the audience goes berserk.

Freddie asks for requests and receives a roar out of which one can vaguely make 'Liar'. Fred walks along the stage, nodding, agreeing he will do this one and that one while the kids roar on. "I'll tell you what - we'll do them all!"

'Doing Alright' opens slow and portentously. Queen's variation of light and shade is one of the major factors in their popularity, but even so the quiet sections frequently find the audience's mind wandering. One kid starts getting a joint together, totally forgetting it when everything blasts off again; guys talk among themselves, only to instantly leap to their feet, fists flying to the beat.

'Doing Alright' changes into a cha-cha beat, Freddie snapping his fingers, the coolest hipster in town, and then instantly drops into faster-than-light drive - the whole row next to me leaps to their feet as a man, rocking back and forth as Brian roars into a blinding solo.

Two songs later, in 'Seven Seas of Rye', the kids break - very fast - and in five seconds half the audience is a seething mass in front of the stage, climbing on each other in pyramids, sudden openings appearing as a splintering seat sends a few bodies to the floor.

The rest of the show is equally intense, especially for a couple of minutes during 'Liar; where Fred and Brian merge into a tight little triangle with Roger while John stands in front of the bass drum, staring out with his small smile.

Freddie has treated his encores - 'Big Spender' and 'Jailhouse Rock' - differently on successive nights, once appearing in a kimono and in Bristol with rather rude tight white shorts, giving the song title new emphasis. In Cardiff, though, he doesn't bother to change at all. Later it transpired that Brian had twisted his ankle during 'Liar'. While he’s attended to, kids out front pick up chair slivers to keep as mementos.

On the bus back to the hotel Brian sits quietly at the back, chatting with two girls. John sits at the front, as always. Freddie stares out of the window, lost in his own world. Roger bounces around, starts a pillow fight with Brian - which stops as soon as Brian scores a direct hit to the face - then discovers an eight track of 'Sheer Heart Attack', punching it through the channels as he conducts the group. The two hours towards which they have channelled the day's energies are spent.

Ambition

That Queen have become a top attraction through a fair degree of plagiarism is amusing. Stealing is nothing new in rock (or any art for that matter) and mostly Queen use the borrowed material better than the originals. That they would be big I don't think anybody really doubted. All four have immense desire to be successful, and that kind of ambition will keep them slogging until they achieve it.

But there are popular heavy metal bands and there are popular h-m bands. From watching Queen's audience it is apparent that Queen speak for them in a way that bands such as the Who and the Stones and the Beatles spoke (and continue to speak) to their audience. Uriah Heep may be great at what they do, but five years after their demise who'll remember them? Creedence Clearwater Revival demonstrate the same thing - who remembers them? And yet five years ago they were the largest band in the world.

Queen will probably always be remembered, because as their tour is beginning to demonstrate, they have the ability to actualise and encompass the outer limits of their sense of self-importance. Queen and their music, presentation, production - everything about them says that they are more important than any other band you've every heard, and who has there been, so far, who has objected? Certainly not the 150,000 people (plus 20,000 a day) who bought 'Bohemian Rhapsody' in the first 20 days of its release. Certainly not me.

See you at Madison Square Garden.

~ You can see the photos which was mentioned on the article, from the link on the title. ~

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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bananaofswifts · 5 years ago

Text

By : Callie Ahlgrim and Courteney Larocca

Taylor Swift released her eighth studio album, "Folklore," on Friday.

Swift surprised fans by announcing its release just one day in advance — and less than one year after the release of her acclaimed seventh album "Lover."

"Most of the things I had planned this summer didn't end up happening, but there is something I had planned that DID happen," she wrote on social media. "And that thing is my 8th studio album, folklore. Surprise!"

She described "Folklore," stylized in all lowercase, as "an entire brand new album of songs I've poured all of my whims, dreams, fears, and musings into."

Much of the 16-song tracklist — 17 on the deluxe edition — was cowritten and produced by The National's Aaron Dessner. Smaller pieces were cowritten by Bon Iver, Jack Antonoff, and someone named William Bowery. Antonoff also produced five songs.

Insider's music team (reporter Callie Ahlgrim and celebrity and music editor Courteney Larocca) listened to the new album on our own, jotting down our initial thoughts track by track.

Almost immediately, we were forced to reckon with the fact that "Folklore" might be Swift's best album yet — potentially even better than "Red," which previously seemed like it couldn't be topped. We were stunned with the mature, poetic, stunningly understated collection of new songs.

Here is what we thought of each song on "Folklore" upon first listen. (Skip to the end to see the only songs worth listening to and the album's final score.)

"The 1" is the best album opener Swift has had in years.

Ahlgrim: "I'm doing good, I'm on some new s---" is a wild way to begin a new Taylor Swift album. This is going to be different.

This is easily the best intro song she's released in years. "The 1" far surpasses "I Forgot That You Existed" on "Lover," "...Ready for It?" on "Reputation," and "Welcome to New York" on "1989" in terms of sheer quality.

It's also an engaging scene-setter; I find myself gently rocking back and forth, eyes closed, smiling without realizing. It's only the first song and so far, I am totally grasping the woodsy aesthetic of this album. I'm already ready for more.

Larocca: I would argue that there hasn't been a strong album opener on one of Swift's albums since "State of Grace" on "Red" in 2012. "The 1" breaks that curse.

I was vibing from that very first piano note, but when Swift comes in and warmly delivers the first line of the album — "I'm doing good, I'm on some new s---" — it became evident this project wouldn't be anything like the rest of her discography.

As far as "The 1" goes as a standalone song, it's incredibly solid. Swift has a breezy attention to rhythm as she paints a tale of a the-one-who-got-away romance. I truly, truly love it. This might end up being an all-time favorite track.

"Cardigan" is beautifully influenced by Lana Del Rey.

Ahlgrim: I heard "Cardigan" first because I watched the music video before I listened to the album.

Right off the bat, I was struck by the Lana Del Rey melody in the chorus; I jotted down "folksy 'Blue Jeans.'"

Swift has actually cited Del Rey as an inspiration in the past, so this makes sense — and that particular shade of nostalgic, haunting glamour really works for Swift's voice, so I'm overall very impressed with this direction. I am more than amenable to a "Red" meets "Norman F---ing Rockwell!" album experience. On my second time around listening, sans music video, "Cardigan" already feels richer coming after "The 1."

This time, I'm struck by small lyrical details like "Sequined smile, black lipstick," a clear callback to her past eras, and "Tried to change the ending / Peter losing Wendy," an effective way to evoke young love and innocence lost.

I also think the song's central refrain, "When you are young they assume you know nothing," is clean and sharp and — especially given Swift's public struggles with sexism and years-old contracts — extremely poignant.

Larocca: I had the thought that Swift listens to Lana Del Rey after hearing "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince" on last year's "Lover," but now I know for sure that Del Rey is an influence on Swift.

While "Cardigan" isn't what I thought this album would be like sonically, I'm overjoyed at how clearly singer-songwriter this album already is. I've been waiting years for Swift to make a lyrical marvel set to acoustic, warm, folksy instrumentals and it's here.

(And while I expected something different sonically, I am not mad at all by the backing instrumental choices here.)

"The Last Great American Dynasty" proves Swift is a natural storyteller.

Ahlgrim: Personally, I love Storyteller Taylor, so this is quite literally music to my ears.

There are so many delicious details here to unpack. The first verse, with its subtle sexist whisperings about Rebekah Harkness ("How did a middle-class divorcée do it?" and "It must have been her fault his heart gave out"), is a truly savvy way to set up for the song's eventual reveal.

Rebekah spent her time partying with friends, funding the ballet, playing card games with Salvador Dalí, somehow "ruining everything" — and her Holiday House was "free of women with madness" until Swift herself moved in.

That twist in the bridge is poetic genius. When the final chorus adjusts to the present day, underscoring the parallels between Rebekah and Swift, I'm forcefully reminded of an iconic bridge when Romeo finally proposed and changed everything — but Swift has evolved past daydreams of pure white dresses and fathers giving permission.

Larocca: I'm immediately taken back to 2012's "Starlight" when "The Last Great American Dynasty" starts. Thankfully, this song ends up being a lot better than "Starlight," which always felt more like a filler track on "Red" to me.

I love a lot here: the casual use of "b----," the acute attention to detail ("She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green"), and every version of this line: "There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen."

I had a marvelous time listening to this song.

"Exile," featuring Bon Iver, is one of Swift's most successful duets to date.

Ahlgrim: Swift and Bon Iver, aka Justin Vernon, are two of the best songwriters alive today, so this song was destined to be breathtaking.

Swift has historically had difficulty allowing her voice and vision to coexist with a featured artist; her collaborations often leave me feeling like she should've just delivered the whole song herself.

But Swift and Vernon were able to weave their lyrics together so gracefully, I was left feeling grateful for his presence. His rich, rustic tone and those iconic hummed harmonies lends the regretful song an added coat of sincerity.

The production here is generally fine, but the layered instrumentals in the ending really bring the song together. I love a dramatic exit.

Larocca: When I see a "featuring Bon Iver" on a track, I instantly assume Vernon is going to come in with his high falsetto. So it was almost jarring that the song starts with Vernon sounding like a lumberjack dad who hasn't left the woods in a decade.

That didn't end up being a detriment, though. Swift sounds delicate on her verse, and their vocals contrast nicely later on the track.

This one also brings to mind her collab "The Last Time" with Snow Patrol's Gary Lightbody. The line "I think I've seen this film before and I didn't like the ending" is also reminiscent of "If This Was a Movie."

I'm obsessed with the clear influences Swift's previous discography had on these tracks, which have also so far felt completely unique to her catalog.

"My Tears Ricochet" is an extraordinary display of Swift's songwriting powers.

Ahlgrim: First of all, "My Tears Ricochet" is an incredible song title. Let's take a moment to appreciate that.

In fact, pretty much every line of this song is arresting.

Much of it feels both familiar and rare, like you know exactly what Swift is singing about, but hadn't thought to put it in those words before — which is, in my opinion, the mark of any good piece of writing but especially a breakup song. You can relate to the emotion, if not the particular details. You can hear the pain. It almost plays like a funeral march.

What a gift it is, what an exhilarating experience, to feel like you're listening to a poem being recited in real-time.

Larocca: Any true Swiftie knows that track five is reserved for the most vulnerable moment on the record, so I went into "My Tears Ricochet" ready to be sad.

I am endlessly impressed with how Swift managed to bake the word "ricochet" into this song so effectively. She also ditched her traditional song structure for this one, and instead built the track from peak to peak, utilizing clever lyrics along the way to tell an epic, devastating story, almost obviously calling back to the most beloved track five of "All Too Well."

I'm calling it now — this one is going to age like a fine wine. As all of Swift's best breakup ballads do.

"Mirrorball" is several strokes of genius.

Ahlgrim: This song gives me intense Clairo vibes, and I mean that as a very high compliment.

It's so fun and refreshing to hear Swift slip into different musical styles, and this shimmery take on alternative-bedroom-pop highlights her soft vocals and nuanced songwriting supremely well.

Also, my Leo sensibilities are fully under attack by this bridge: "I've never been a natural, all I do is try, try, try / I'm still on that trapeze / I'm still trying everything to keep you looking at me." Oof! Just tag me next time.

Larocca: This one is so pretty! Swift's vocals sound better than ever as she spins on her highest heels across a glittery daydream.

"I'm a mirrorball / I'll show you every version of yourself tonight" might be the thesis statement of this entire album. So far, "Folklore" feels both diaristic and vague; detailed and completely anonymous.

Fans will be debating for years whether this album is about Swift's own life, or if it's simply really great storytelling pulled directly from her own mind. In the end, it doesn't really matter.

Because as all of Swift's best songs do, these songs will attach themselves to listeners in completely new ways, showing them elements and stories from their own lives.

"Seven" is pure whimsical magic.

Ahlgrim: This is playing make-believe in the garden when you're too young to feel self-conscious; it's poetic and nostalgic and full of awe in such an unpretentious way.

I wouldn't change one thing about this song. Swift's whispery high register sounds divine, and at this point in the tracklist, her rhythmic delivery in the chorus hits like a shot of espresso.

Right now, I'm wondering if it's possible for Swift to maintain this intrigue and momentum for another nine songs. There hasn't been a misstep to speak of, and I remain wholly beguiled. Can it last?

Larocca: The beginning of "Seven" sounds like Swift listened to Marina's "Orange Trees" on repeat before showing up to her songwriting session. Fortunately, "Orange Trees" is the only song I like on Marina's "Love + Fear" so I will gladly accept this inspiration.

Swift continues to impress with both her vocals and her sense of rhythm on "Seven." I also personally love space imagery so the line "Love you to the moon and to Saturn" is a standout line.

"August" will go down as one of the best songs in Swift's extensive repertoire.

Ahlgrim: I'm immediately catching hints of Phoebe Bridgers and girl in red in Swift's delivery. And I simply adore the idea that Swift has spent the last few months sitting at home, daydreaming about summertime humidity and listening to music by queer indie-pop girls.

In an album full of songwriting expertise, this song has some of Swift's best lines yet: "August sipped away like a bottle of wine / 'Cause you were never mine" actually hurts me.

In my notes, there simply sits this valuable insight (yes, in all-caps): "WANTING WAS ENOUGH. FOR ME IT WAS ENOUGH TO LIVE FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL." This song has my favorite bridge on the album so far.

In terms of production, "August" is exquisite. It's lush and layered without feeling overwhelming at any point. It builds to the perfect level then recedes, like a wave.

Also worth mentioning: It can now be considered a historical fact that any time Swift mentions a car or driving in one of her songs, it's a perfect song.

Larocca: While listening to "August," I texted Callie and said, "I can't wait to finish the album so I can relisten to 'August.'" It's an instant favorite.

This is also the first track on the album that seems directly inspired by our current state. Not because she's expressing fear or singing about being bored at home, but because she so easily slips into a reflection of a relationship that ended years ago with a newfound wave of wistful nostalgia.

When quarantine started, it seemed like a million lifestyle articles came out explaining why everyone suddenly felt compelled to text their exes and why we're so invested in looking back instead of forward right now.

"August" validates those feelings with zero judgment, letting its listener know that yes, it's totally normal for you to be overanalyzing that quasi-relationship you were in back in college that never made it past graduation. Am I projecting? Maybe, but that's debatably what Swift's music is best utilized for.

I'm also going to be thinking about this song's bridge and outro for the rest of my life.

The National's influence can be felt on the stunning "This Is Me Trying."

Ahlgrim: "This Is Me Trying" quickly strikes a more sinister tone than its predecessors — still nostalgic and wistful, but carrying an edge, like a threatening secret.

Ironically, this one was co-written and co-produced by Jack Antonoff, not Aaron Dessner, though I can really hear The National's influence here. I'm getting strong wafts of songs like "Pink Rabbits" and "Dark Side of the Gym."

Based on Swift's own words, we can speculate that "This Is Me Trying" is a fictional tale, built around the image of "a 17-year-old standing on a porch, learning to apologize." And, as previously stated, I'm a big fan of Storyteller Taylor, so I'm into it.

The song's darker tone mingles really well with Swift's imagery; when you're a teenager, and you make a mistake, it can feel like the end of the world.

Larocca: "This Is Me Trying" is precisely what I imagined this album sounding like when I found out Swift collaborated with the National's Aaron Dessner and Bon Iver.

But I'm glad she was strategic about her use of echo and also finally paid attention to the tracklisting from a sonic standpoint. This haunting soundscape is reminiscent of 2014's "This Love" and comes in right when you need it after the yearning daydream of "August."

I'd also like it to be on the record that the line "I got wasted like all my potential" ruined me and this song is a win for that lyric alone.

"Illicit Affairs" is a glowing example of what sets Swift apart from her peers as a songwriter.

Ahlgrim: The expert songwriting on "Illicit Affairs" reminds me of the as-yet unseated queen in Swift's discography: "All Too Well."

Swift is a master of wielding specific details like weapons: "What started in beautiful rooms / Ends with meetings in parking lots," she sings. "Leave the perfume on the shelf / That you picked out just for him." These are the sorts of images that set Swift apart, and they're especially strong when she punctuates their delivery with a little growl in her voice.

This song has real power. I have chills.

That power is magnified in the third verse, similar to how "All Too Well" builds to a crescendo: "Don't call me 'kid,' don't call me 'baby' / Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me."

Certainly, "Illicit Affairs" is more restrained than Swift's iconic arena rock ballad, but goddamn that last verse hits hard.

Larocca: The way that she says "him" in the second verse shook me out of my skin in the very best way. And "Don't call me 'kid,' don't call me 'baby' / Look at this idiotic fool that you made me" will go down as one of her best breakup lines of all time.

It's been a minute since Swift delivered a painstakingly beautiful breakup ballad, and the fact that this album is littered with them is, simply, a gift.

"Illicit Affairs" has growing power and will likely become one of those tracks that fans form a strong emotional attachment to over time.

"Invisible String" is Taylor Swift at her most Taylor Swift.

Ahlgrim: "Invisible String" is a feast of Easter eggs and callbacks.

"Teal was the color of your shirt" reminds me of the line about Joe Alwyn's blue eyes on "Delicate," and her reference to a dive bar is similarly familiar. "Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs" recalls the push-and-pull on "Exile."

"Bad was the blood of the song in the cab" is undoubtedly a reference to Swift's 2015 single "Bad Blood," while "One single thread of gold / Tied me to you" feels like a nod to Swift's description of love's "golden" hue on the "Lover" album closer "Daylight."

This song is sprightly and sparkly and certainly nice to listen to, but its real strength lies in these details.

Swift is weaving many different stories on this album, many connected by a sort of "Invisible String," tying different pieces of her life and your life and other lives together. It ends up feeling like a growing plant with far-reaching roots, or a sentient treasure map.

Larocca: I'd be lying if I said there weren't multiple points throughout this album where I worried that Swift and her boyfriend Joe Alwyn had broken up.

Thankfully, "Invisible String" is a rosy, wide-eyed ode to love. The plucky guitar paired with Swift's soft vocals is a sound I want to live in, which is fitting since this track feels like coming home.

Every small detail, from the nod to Alwyn's time spent working at a frozen yogurt shop in his youth, to the color imagery that paints every inflection of Swift's adoration (especially the single thread of gold) come together to lay the holy ground Swift's relationship walks on.

Also, the image of Swift mailing Joe Jonas and Sophie Turner gifts for their expectant first child brings about an unbridled sense of joy.

"Mad Woman" is yet another highlight.

Ahlgrim: Every time I think I've heard the peak of this album's songwriting potential, Swift manages to surprise me.

Case in point: "Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? / Does she smile? / Or does she mouth, 'F--- you forever?'" Whoa.

And another, for good measure: "It's obvious that wanting me dead / Has really brought you two together." I texted Courteney, "Did she really just say that??"

This song is sublime on its own, but the way it ties back into the perception of female freedom and "madness" on "The Last Great American Dynasty" makes it even better. "Mad Woman" is definitely a personal favorite so far on this album, if not in Swift's entire catalog.

Larocca: "Mad Woman" will forever hold the honor of being the first song in which Swift says "f---" and for that, we should all be thankful.

I was also so wrapped up in the storytelling of this album, that it took a minute for this to even register that this is likely about the Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta / Kanye West and Kim Kardashian West ordeals of Swift's past. These callouts used to be so obvious, that I greatly appreciate the subtlety and restraint here.

It almost feels like these feuds were a lifetime ago, but this track does an excellent job at showcasing how anger and pain can leave an indelible mark on you. Swift went mad years ago, and that's just an accepted part of her narrative now.

But for the first time, her rage sounds like freedom.

"Epiphany" doesn't stand out.

Ahlgrim: There are some really interesting vocal moments on "Epiphany," but so far, this is the only song I haven't felt captivated by. It's a bit snoozy, and a bit too long.

This song clearly references war, the loss of a loved one, and the coronavirus pandemic, which makes it lyrically intriguing at best — but distressing at worst. I don't mind letting the overall effect waft over me, but this won't be a song I revisit outside the context of the album.

Larocca: "Epiphany" is the only track on "Folklore" that didn't immediately grab me. It's essentially a war drama in song format, so some people might like it, but I truly couldn't care less about war movies or war songs! So it's not my favorite, but it makes for pretty background music.

"Epiphany" does have another benefit though: Now, whenever some random dude erroneously claims Swift "only writes songs about her exes," fans have a clear song in her discography that they can point to and be like, "That's not true. This one's about war."

That's not to say Swift needed that — anyone who has been paying attention understands she's quite possibly the best songwriter of her generation.

This just happens to be further proof of that fact.

"Betty" is a charming callback to Swift's country roots.

Ahlgrim: "Betty" is like the best, sauciest song from Swift's 2006 debut country album that no one got to hear. It has sonic and lyrical similarities to hits like "Our Song" and "Tim McGraw," plus some name-dropping stuff like 2008's "Hey Stephen," plus a little harmonica thrown in for good measure! I love that for us.

"Betty" also appears to complete a three-song story, recalling details from "Cardigan" and "August" to close the loop on Betty and James, a couple in high school with some infidelity issues.

Looking back, it feels like "Cardigan" was told from Betty's perspective, while "August" was told from the perspective of a sort of "other woman" character. Now, we get James' side of the story. This is high art, folks! This is peak Storytelling Taylor!

"Betty" is also, like, very gay? I know it's easy to assume that James is a male character, but Swift herself was named after James Taylor, so she could be referring to herself. The song also references someone named Inez; James and Inez are the names of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's daughters.

Plus, in retrospect, the idea of whispering "Are you sure? Never have I ever before" during a summer fling seems pretty gay to me.

I'm not saying the story of Betty and James would be better if it was written about sapphic lovers, but I'm not not saying that.

Larocca: This one is gay, and if you try to tell me otherwise, I will simply ignore you.

But Courteney, it's from the perspective of a guy named James. James and the other character, Inez, share the same names as Reynolds and Lively's kids (will leave it up to you to decide if that means their third daughter's name is Betty). James is their daughter. Get out of here with your antiquated ideas about which names connotate which genders.

To me, the James named in this song is a woman and a lesbian and this song is for the gays. I will not be saying anything else or accepting any feedback on this opinion, thank you.

"Peace" is honest and raw.

Ahlgrim: This song's intro sounds like LCD Soundsystem had a baby with "The Archer." The gentle guitar riff is also lovely.

With Dessner's echoey production, Swift's voice sounds like a warm little fire in a cave — fitting, since she sings in the chorus, "I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm."

OK damn, I'm getting really emotional. This songwriting is beautiful and haunting. "Peace" perfectly captures the ambient dread of feeling your partner slip away, of wondering whether love can be enough.

Larocca: If you're a "Call It What You Want" stan, you're going to love its mature older sister "Peace."

I will hereby forever be thinking about the parallels between "But I'm a fire and I'll keep your brittle heart warm" with "He built a fire just to keep me warm" and between "Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother" with "Trust him like a brother."

Also, "Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" has the same emotional impact as when Swift changes the lyric in "The Archer" to "I see right through me" and that's meant as the highest form of compliment.

Swift's vocals are so crisp, that guitar riff is so stunning, and these lyrics are so gut-wrenchingly vulnerable. A perfect song, through and through.

"Hoax" is unlike any other album closer in Swift's catalog.

Ahlgrim: I don't know if Swift is going through a traumatic breakup, but if she isn't, the woman is one convincing creative writer.

The National makes some of my favorite music to cry to, so when I heard Aaron Dessner had co-written and produced much of this album, I knew I was in for some glossy cheeks. Until now, I think I've felt too captivated by Swift's artistry to really let myself get there.

But finally, "Hoax" is making me cry.

This is heart-wrenching stuff for anyone, but for a fan and student of Swift's work, this is like reading a friend's diary entry.

"Don't want no other shade of blue, but you" must be a reference to "Delicate," in which Swift sings: "Dark jeans and your Nikes, look at you / Oh damn, never seen that color blue." Later, she croons, "You know I left a part of me back in New York," perhaps regretting the move to London that she detailed throughout "Lover."

"You knew it still hurts underneath my scars / From when they pulled me apart," recalling the public shaming she endured and demons she exorcised on "Reputation." "But what you did was just as dark." Like I said before: Whoa.

Personally, I love having a good cry set to moody music, so I appreciate Swift's soul-bearing. "Hoax" is one gut-punch of an album closer.

Larocca: Swift has a habit of ending her albums on an uplifting, hopeful note and I always eat it up. But if "Folklore" hadn't made it clear by now that it should be consumed differently than any of her previous works, "Hoax" brings that message home.

Instead of reveling in all the ways that love has made her stronger, happier, or more whole, "Hoax" deconstructs everything Swift has learned about love and leaves a bleaker picture about how maybe even the best of relationships hurt.

But at its most tragic, this love still isn't something Swift will ever let go of: "Don't want no other shade of blue but you / No other sadness in the world would do."

Finishing a Taylor Swift album has never been so devastating.

Final Grade: 9.7/10

#taylor swift #folklore #review

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moviemunchies · 4 years ago

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So it turns out that my friends all betrayed me, in that all of them let me get this far without watching a single Miyazaki film and that’s just a darn shame because holy Father Francis, this movie is amazing.

I kind of resisted seeing this movie back when it was big? In the early 2000’s, this was one of the movies that got universal praise and adulation, and since no one really bothered to explain to me what it was actually about, and why I should care, and it was before I spent all that much time on the Internet anywhere that wasn’t related to LEGO, all I knew was that there was this anime movie that people loved and nobody I was friends with back then seemed to care one way or another about it.

[Although admittedly, it wasn’t that I had a lot of friends at that point in my life.]

So it goes like this: Chihiro is a ten-year-old girl who isn’t too thrilled about her family moving to a new house. Her parents stop and explore this weird abandoned area for a while, and when they find a bunch of food they start eating, and whoopsie-daisy, they’ve been turned into pigs, and now Chihiro is trapped in the spirit world! A friendly spirit appearing as a young boy named Haku helps Chihiro stay safe, and gets her to obtain a job at the bath house, run by the evil witch Yubaba. There she can safely spend time while they work out a way to free her and save her parents.

The animation in this movie is gorgeous. I love it! I love it quite a lot. It’s very good. I know I say that about a lot of animated movies, but I can’t help the fact that I watch a bunch of well-animated movies.

The story of this film feels not dissimilar to a fairy tale--a child getting trapped in the world of fairies/spirits, and having to navigate its bizarre inhabitants and rules that are hostile to ordinary humans, while trying to save her parents. I hold that yokai in Japanese folklore behave in a way that’s very similar to the ways fairies are in European folklore, but I’m not Japanese so I could just be talking out of my butt from the limited experience and knowledge I do have.

I suspect that if I were Japanese, there are parts of this movie that would resonate more strongly with me. But I’m not Japanese, so I either have to speculate or read other commentaries and hope that it doesn’t make me feel dumb.

A particular theme that stuck out in this movie was the destroying nature of greed. I saw plenty of people commenting that this was Miyazaki’s commentary on capitalism, and maybe, but overall the film does not portray greed very pleasantly. The least sympathetic characters, like Yubaba, are incredibly greedy and treat everyone around them terribly. In the case of No Face, it infects and corrupts him into being something he’s not--Chihiro even says it makes him sick. Besides, let’s not forget that what started this mess was Chihiro’s parents sitting down and feasting on food that isn’t theirs.

And Yubaba, when she employs someone, whether human or spirit, she takes their names, and they forget their original names and who they were before. Chihiro has to be reminded by Haku what her name was the previous day. Haku doesn’t remember his own identity outside of being Yubaba’s apprentice.

[Something something, Rule of Names--I’ll save it when/if I cover Tales of Earthsea in a post.]

Greed makes us forget who we are. It’s made an entire settlement of people forget who they really are and who they’re meant to be.

Hm.

Again, don’t know if this would resonate with me more if I was Japanese, or if Miyazaki is commenting on greed in the world in general, or what. But it’s definitely a message that applies to American culture and corporatism. It sure as heck applies to the state of animation nowadays, and Disney deciding to remake its classical animated library in live action for the sake of making money!

Ahem.

I should talk about some of the characters.

Chihiro is an excellent heroine. I feel that a lot of stories aimed at children very often try to make the child protagonist too capable to be believable or too dumb to be sympathetic--usually with the excuse of, “Oh she’s a kid, of course she messes up!” Chihiro walks the fine line between those two in a way that I think works. I never thought that she skewed one way or the other, and that was relieving.

Yubaba, on the other hand, is a perfect villain for this kind of story. The image of a wicked witch is exactly the sort of antagonist for a fairy tale, and Yubaba fits it to a T. She’s not the kind of villain who instantly tries to kill the heroine, though it’s not because she can’t--when she shows her power she’s truly terrifying. But what makes her tick, and what makes her (sadly) realistic is that she’s more concerned with utilizing her power into making money for herself and controlling others to do so, not caring whose lives she’s making miserable in pursuit of it.

No Face? Is a fantastic character? Great design, great animation, just great all around. He’s unsettling, but he’s not evil, at least not in his base nature--he just becomes corrupted by the greed in the bath house. I don’t know if he’s based off of a creature in Japanese folklore, so maybe he’s not original to the film, but he’s very creatively realized on screen.

Yubaba has a twin sister named Zeniba that’s… well, she’s exactly the same in appearance, and I felt as if she didn’t get enough screen time to really get a good impression of her? At least, one distinct from “She’s mostly the opposite of Yubaba.” I did like that she wasn’t always nice--the first impression we get of her is sending paper minions to attack Haku. For reasons that are completely justified from her perspective, but still not particularly nice.

Haku’s great and I could try giving an analysis but if I’m being real with you, he’s a dragon. I love him because he’s a dragon. That’s shallow but that’s the truth. Again, he’s good, but he’s not nice; there are times, when he’s in dragon form, that you are reminded that he’s a dragon, goshdarnit, and that’s more than a little intimidating.

It’s a fine movie. It’s got fantastic characters. It’s amazingly animated. It’s got great themes. It’s a lovely movie and I’m sad I only now just saw it for the first time. Go see it if you haven’t. If you have, see it again.

#Spirited Away #anime #Movie Munchies #Hayao Miyazaki #animation

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heresince93 · 5 years ago

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Gillian Anderson Sunday Times Interview Transcript

There is a moment in the second series of Netflix’s Sex Education when Gillian Anderson’s character, Jean, sighs a deep resigned sigh as she is lying in bed one morning and spots the messy pile of small change her latest lover, Jakob, has left on her bedside table.

It’s my favourite moment of this uplifting show about the tangled love lives of British secondary school teens that manages to appeal to both parents and adolescents alike. Anderson plays the outrageously inappropriate sex therapist Jean Milburn, a stylish, confident single mother.

The sight of those coins will resonate with any woman of Anderson’s age and stage of life (she is 51), whatever kind of relationship they are in.These pennies, a symbol of how untidy life gets and the constant imposing presence of someone else even when they aren’t in the room, represent for Jean the gradual realisation that the excitement of a new love soon becomes tempered by the boring bits.

For those of us who have been married a while, the coins are perhaps the equivalent of the dull domesticity of picking up the shirt always dropped on the floor or the wet towels you always end up refolding after your teens have left them near but not on the bathroom radiator. Anderson and I chat about this a lot when we meet to talk about the second series of Sex Education, given that we are both working mothers in our early fifties.

The actress, who is most recognised for her role as Scully in The X-Files, is twice divorced and has three children, Piper, 25, Oscar, 13, Felix, 11, all of whom live with her in London. Her partner of three years is the playwright, screenwriter and creator of The Crown, Peter Morgan, himself a father of five.

In person Anderson is chatty and witty, aloof and friendly at the same time, a peculiarly feline trait that I often encounter in driven, confident women who have reached midlife. Tell me about Jakob and the coins, I say, what is it like starting a new relationship in your forties, compared with your twenties?

“It’s very different,” she says. “I think you are more fully formed, especially if you have taken time out of previous relationships to find yourself.

“Early on after the break-up of my last relationship and before my current one, somebody encouraged me to write a list of needs and wants in a future partner. Needs are non-negotiable. If you go on a date with someone and realise they won’t meet, say, three of those needs, then they are not the person for you. It may last as a relationship, but it won’t make you happy. Wants are easier, not more frivolous per se, but easier to deliver. Doing this made it clear to me going forward who would be good for me in a relationship.

“And there is a new creativity nowadays to what a relationship should look like, too. For instance, my partner and I don’t live together. If we did, that would be the end of us. It works so well as it is, it feels so special when we do come together. And when I am with my kids, I can be completely there for them. It’s exciting. We choose when to be together. There is nothing locking us in, nothing that brings up that fear of ‘Oh gosh, I can’t leave because what will happen to the house, how will we separate?’. I start to miss the person I want to be with, which is a lovely feeling. And it is so huge for me to be able to see a pair of trousers left lying on the floor at my partner’s house and to step over them and not feel it is my job to do something about it!”

I’ve never interviewed a celebrity who, even though she is wearing heels (little pointy white boots) is still shorter than me (I’m barely 5ft 2in), but Anderson is tiny. This is only important to note, I think, because her roles since Dana Scully have been so big and so powerful: Blanche in A Street Car Named Desire and Margo Channing in All About Eve on stage; Lady Mountbatten in the film Viceroy’s House; Stella Gibson in The Fall; and now Jean Milburn.

I wonder if she is perhaps filed under “tricky, unpredictable, charismatic, spiky, intelligent and fearless woman” in the casting director’s directory of suitable roles. After all, her next part is going to be Margaret Thatcher (in The Crown). And when she arrives for our chat in the closed Chinese restaurant of a central London hotel, she apologises for the sticky mess in her hair caused by wearing the Iron Lady’s wig the previous day. Her nails are manicured pale pink like Thatcher’s too.

“She had a condition that meant two fingers of each hand would curl around — Reagan had it too — so it affected her gestures and she would wear lots of rings and bracelets to distract. But she kept her nails long, which is how I have to keep them now,” Anderson says. She is fascinated by Thatcher, concluding, after studying her childhood, that “nobody ever existed like her. She was unique.”

Anderson might be unique herself, and despite giving many interviews (three last year), I see that she has been smart and managed to remain a bit of an enigma. When I listen back to the tape, she is very good at general talk, but not so hot on specifics.

She spent her early years in north London with her American parents before going back to Michigan for high school. She was a teenage punk plagued by panic attacks that have continued to trouble her over the years, particularly during her intense work schedule on The X-Files. She went into therapy at 14, then became world famous at 25, and had her first child at 26 (the same age her parents had her, before going on to have her two siblings 12 years later). She split up with her first husband three years after that.

In 2011 she endured the death of her brother, Aaron, aged 30, from a brain tumour, which she rarely discusses. She is an impressive activist, campaigning for a variety of issues including women’s rights in Afghanistan, Burma, South Africa, Uganda and South America. There are 10 charities she has worked with listed on her website, and in 2017 she co-wrote We: A Manifesto for Women Everywhere, a well-received book of advice for women. She has also designed two small fashion collections for Winser London, which include some gorgeous silky blouses. I found I had three in my wardrobe without knowing they were hers.

She is a Bafta nominee and Golden Globe winner, and Neil Gaiman, who cast her in the TV series of his book American Gods, said: “She is in this strange place where everything exists in the shadow of Scully, yet she is bigger and better than that.”

When I listen to her 2003 Desert Island Discs, though, she tells a darker story. In between Radiohead and Jeff Buckley, she talks of troubled mental health that she has worked ferociously hard to improve. She has been in therapy for more than 30 years.

Anderson tells me she has been teetotal since her early twenties and despite some mild probing on my part is reluctant to elaborate on exactly why. I understand. She has soon-to-be teenage children who don’t need to know about any of the “dangerous things” she has done, as she described them to Sue Lawley.

I’m fascinated by Anderson and can see why she was the perfect person to cast as the quirky, funny therapist Jean in Sex Education, which really hits its stride in the second series. While still a comedy at heart, the subject matter tackled by its fantastic young cast is revelatory. Sex Education is one of the first productions to hire an intimacy director to make the young actors feel comfortable and process what they were doing, often naked in front of multiple cameras, to be happy and authentic about what they did and feel they had input.

Anal sex, drugs, masturbation, STDs and nudity feature graphically in this show, which I would advise all parents and teens to watch, though not at the same time — only Jean would do that. When I interview Anderson I have yet to see the finale, but Jean’s journey is that of many women in the middle of their lives after divorce with teenage children.

“There’s a grief, isn’t there?” Anderson says as we discuss the menopause. “I haven’t quite got to the place where I don’t have my eggs, but your body is going to mourn that, isn’t it? I remember the very last time I breastfed and it was heartbreaking. I wept and wept through it.

“And I know people who describe particularly difficult periods at home without realising they are describing their mothers going through the menopause.

“We’re all at the point where we’re kicking off just as our teenage children are kicking off. I was looking at some home videos of Piper when she was three and wondering where all my patience came from in my twenties. I have forgotten that version of me.”

She says she doesn’t feel quite ready for her two boys to become teenagers, but sometimes Jean slips into their conversations at home.

“I find myself saying something embarrassing at the dinner table and I don’t know if it is me or if Jean has given me the licence to say that. Maybe I have always been that way, though. Some of what she shares is too much information. I wouldn’t share it, even with my eldest in her twenties. But my son came home after having a sex education class and I completely clammed up. I couldn’t bring myself to continue the conversation. I just let it die. I really don’t know why.”

Over the years Anderson has tried to schedule her roles to fit in with her children, but like many of us who have devoted much of our time to careers, she still lives with nagging doubts about doing the right thing.

How did you deal with a small child while filming back-to-back episodes of The X-Files for 16 hours a day, I ask, especially when you decided to go it alone as a mum. “I missed her, really so much. Those moments when you see a small child in the street when you are apart from yours and the conversation just drops, it’s hard. She was on a plane a lot when she was six and we moved production to the West Coast. I justified that, I mean it was selfish on my part. I just could not imagine being away from her for long periods of time.

“I became obsessed with schedules, and I still am because of that time. I would plan and colour-code everything, make a series of propositions about schedules so I could see her, and the show would either reject or accept them.

“With the boys the longest I have been away from them was during the two X-Files movies, but again I would be travelling constantly to see them.”

I ask her if she regrets working so hard. “Not yet,” she says. “I have a feeling that will come. I definitely feel like on a level I do regret Piper flying back [to her dad, when she was six] as an unaccompanied minor.” We sit in silence for a bit, mulling over the thought.

“But there’s another version of my life where I could have worked less, had a smaller life and been more present as a parent. I could have chosen that, that could happen. But sometimes it feels like why would you, if you keep getting work as an actor, doing things you dreamt of doing and being offered incredible roles at this age, while paying the bills, and you still get to see them a huge percentage of the time and they witness a mother enjoying her work?”

She has talked to her daughter about it, but says Piper is not yet at the place where the lightbulb goes on and she realises Mum was still up at 6am the days she faced 16 hours of work to be with her, or those days we all have when we are still on the edge of the sports pitch, despite the demands of a job.

But Anderson is an all-or-nothing personality. She tells me she is either on a healthy eating plan, meditating and working out or hiding like a hermit at home eating chocolate. She has been plagued by frozen shoulders all her life, leading to months of pain-filled insomnia and cortisone injections.

“My default position is sedentary,” she tells me when I ask about her meditating and yoga right now. “I like being in bed in my PJs. When I’m working, like right now, I seem to exist mostly on chocolate. Then I go through a stage when I feel dreadful and I review it all and start a food plan, torture myself counting shots of milk and all that.

“In the cycle of all or nothing, I am in the nothing phase right now. It has gone on for quite some time, but I think I am better to be around. I was having lunch with my daughter and we were just, you know, eating, not asking for stuff without oils or sugar, and she said, ‘It’s so much better when you are not in that place.’ ”

I’ve enjoyed my hour with Anderson; she is likeable and thoughtful. I sort of hope we’ll meet again one day. It’s unlikely she’ll read the interview; she has said before that she rarely does. So what do I think as I walk away from her? I’m impressed by her curious nature and, obviously, her sense of style, a blueprint for us all at this stage of life, but mostly I’m inspired by her strong sense of self. It has obviously taken quite a bit of work for her to get there, but from what I can see, it has been worth it.

@GillianA

Sex Education series 2 is available on Netflix from Friday

Hair: James Rowe at Bryant Artists. Make-up: Mary Greenwell at Premier Hair and Make-up. Nails: Saffron Goddard at Saint Luke using Sisley Hand Care

#gillian anderson #sunday times #interview

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erekiosuncreativeideas · 5 years ago

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The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 01

Summary :

Based on @fedoraspooky‘s Puppet AU.

Lukas is a student in need of money. He manages to find a job in a famous television studio as a stagehand. However, his situation changes greatly when the directors give him one of the main roles of a new TV show for children. Lukas has to fit into this new and unknown world, meeting all the other actors, all while dealing with his student life. What could possibly go wrong?

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/57259018

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New fanfiction on A Hat In Time ! I hope you're all well and safe in this very hard period.

I had started this fanfiction for a while and I figured that posting it might help to make me write more. I work a lot with motivation/encouragement, so posting it might be one of the best ways to motivate myself.Anyway, I hope you'll like this story! :D

Don't hesitate to leave me a comment/like/reblog if you do, it'll help me a lot!

Happy reading !

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Chapter 1 - “What the absolute fuck?”

Lukas Pryce had seen many strange things in his short life, especially as a college student: people doing incredibly stupid stuff during parties (not that he went to a lot of them), students watching porn in the lecture halls, wandering drunk students in the middle of the night… But this right there? This was way weirder than anything he had ever seen before.

“What the absolute fuck?” thought he young student, as he tried to take in the sight in front of him.

He was standing up in an entrance hall of a famous movie studio, the Dead Bird Movie Studio. To be honest, Lukas never really understood where the name came from and never really thought much about it until more recent events. All he used to know was that they made a lot of stuff, from movies to TV shows, and even musicals! It was strange to think that a single studio could manage such different genres and still doing a good job with them. The student never thought he would ever step in a place like this, but his life had recently taken a route very different than what he expected.

Several persons were running in front of him, most of them carrying fire extinguishers. A fire had apparently started in the middle of a shooting and smoke could be seen through the doors leading to the filming stage. No one was noticing him, as they were all preoccupied with the current situation, and Lukas almost thought about leaving. But he couldn’t, as much as he wanted to.

Being a college student, especially a law student, was hard. In a system where students were in debt and had to pay a lot of things, Lukas couldn��t afford to lose one of the only job opportunities he could get in his two years spent at the university. While he did have nice parents who helped him to fund his studies, he didn’t like the idea of depending too much on them, especially on studies which were quite expensive.

So, yeah, he needed the money too much to consider leaving.

Lukas tried to get closer to the people, hoping to stop someone long enough to know if he should wait and come back later. Well, it did seem like the most reasonable solution, yes, but he had lost too many job positions because of his hesitation. Maybe he would look like a complete idiot, but if it meant he would get this job, then, he didn’t care!

-“Hum, excuse me?” he asked, as he managed to grab a someone’s arm, stopping them from doing whatever people did in case of fire emergencies. It was a blond man in his forties, and he was very much angry from the sudden interruption.

-“What are you doing? Let go of me, there’s a fire in there!”

Lukas tried to get more of him, but the man pulled his arm from the student’s hand, who didn’t really know what to do with himself. It was a bad time to go to this job interview, after all.

“Maybe I should just leave and go back later?” he thought quickly, turning away from the reception desk. He could call the studio later to reschedule the interview. Sure, Lukas never liked phone calls in the first place, but hey, what can you do against a fire emergency? It was better to leave this place, call back later and have another chance next week. Or at least, he hoped so.

However, before he could push the exit door, two voices interrupted him. While most of his surroundings were loud and full of agitation, these voices were even louder, cutting short all of Lukas’s inner monologue. The young student stopped in his tracks and threw a glance behind him, more than curious about what was happening on the other side of the room.

Two figures entered the room, apparently arguing with each other in the most intense way. One was a tall and sturdy black man, while the other was an older and smaller blond man. The former was wearing a set of very excentric clothing, while the latter was wearing a black costume, as well as a black cap on his head, which was hiding his eyes underneath. Both made big gestures with their arms, as they bickered. Something about them felt really familiar to Lukas who, for a brief moment, didn’t understand why. It was only when he heard their voices through the general brouhaha that he remembered: they were the famous directors of the Dead Bird Movie studio!

-“Was it really necessary to have that many sparks in the last scene?!” asked the sturdy man -DJ Grooves-, pointing the smoke coming into the room with both hands.

-“Of course it was!” replied the older one, much louder, stomping his foot on the ground. This was the Conductor. It wasn’t his real name but the old director never accepted to tell his real name to the media. He was mostly known as “The Conductor” and all of his movies were signed this way. Well, so were DJ Grooves’s, but the latter’s real name usually appeared somewhere in the credits.

They had recently started to work together on several projects and, while those became extremely famous blockbusters, it was said the two directors had problems working together in the past. It had seemed to improve through the years, but Lukas remembered reading an article somewhere, dealing with the direction problem on their latest movie at the time. While they were both very competent, they also had very different ideas and visions about movie-making, which made the filming quite difficult sometimes.

The argument kept going despite the agitation around them. In fact, most of the people in the room were avoiding them, by distancing themselves as much as possible from the duo, passing from one side to the room to the others by doing a detour in order not to be noticed.

-“It was? Darling, everything caught fire! I know you like action, but this was way too much!”

-“Pfff, as if you knew the basics of action movies! I know what action scenes need! Mind your own part of the movie, the music!” he said, putting a strong and ironical emphasis on the last word, as if he was mocking it. Which, in retrospect, was probably the case.

-“Excuse me? Conductor, darling, we talked about this: music is as important as action! A movie without any good music is worthless, just as it is without good and measured action!”

The bickering continued for a while and Lukas couldn’t help but stare at the two directors. They didn’t seem to hate each other as much as they did in the past, at least from what he had seen on TV, but it was quite impressive nonetheless. They both had strong personalities and those didn’t mix well together.

Lukas didn’t know what to do. He instinctively opened his shoulder back to take the job poster out of it. It was about a stagehand position, which didn’t need a lot of experience. It demanded to know how to fix set materials and to know how to sew -which he did-, nothing hard, really. What matters was the pay at the end of the month, pay he very much needed for his studies.

He hesitated a moment: should he step in? Most of the people here seemed to avoid them as much as possible, maybe there was a reason for that? However, if he didn’t do anything, he would get back home without any more job than before. What if someone showed up not long after he left and got the job? He didn’t want to take the risk.

Lukas needed that money.

The student took a deep breath and walked towards the two bickering directors, feeling his heart sink in his chest. Not only was he approaching celebrities, but he was also going to interrupt them to ask for a job! In a way, this was an extremely bold move, which contrasted tremendously from his usual behaviour. In any other situation, he would have chosen to leave, not to bother them, try later… But he wanted this job and he was ready to step out of his comfort zone to get it!

He finally arrived next to the two men, who absolutely didn’t notice him in the least, continuing their previous argument about the (un)necessity of using such or such pyrotechnic. Lukas felt eyes land on him: some workers seemed to notice his intent of interrupting the two directors and silently shook their head in his direction, telling him to give up, that he would end up regretting doing it eventually.

But the student didn’t listen. Instead, he cleared his throat, first once, then twice, this time a bit louder. The two directors immediately stopped talking and turned in his direction, surprised by the sudden interruption.

-“Hum… Excuse me, I- I saw that you were looking for a stagehand and I‌ came for the interview,” he started, unsure. Lukas wasn’t afraid to approach people, usually. But this wasn’t a usual situation: he was facing two famous movie directors! And interrupting them in an argument during a fire emergency!

… Suddenly, the whole thing didn’t seem like a good idea anymore.

The two men were now staring at him, probably not knowing how to answer. Lukas felt very nervous, being stared at that way. He felt like they were examining him from top to bottom, as if he was just an object.

All of a sudden, the Conductor let out a huge sigh and, still very much angry, quickly grabbed one of the fire extinguishers from someone’s hand. He then pushed it violently in the student’s arms:

-“You know what, fine, you’re hired!” said the old director curtly, before turning away to leave like a sulking child: “Go put out the fires with the others!”

Lukas remained unmoving, too shocked to react right away. Next to him, DJ Grooves let out a tired sigh, maybe because he was used to that kind of things. When the Conductor noticed Lukas’s non-reaction, he stomped his foot once again and pointed to the room from which came the smoke :

-“Now!”

Lukas jumped at the harsh order and turned to the stage room as fast as he could, extremely confused by what had just happened. Did he just… Get the job? That easily? There had to be a catch somewhere!

But here he was, passing through the door, only to find something on fire in the middle of the stage, surrounded by several people trying to put the fire out. Without thinking much, the student ran to meet them, almost falling down because of the weight of the fire extinguishers. No one seemed to notice him as they were all focused on the danger in front of them.

Lukas then joined their effort, disabling the safety lock on the device before spraying the fire.

Surely, this was just an exception… The working conditions weren’t going to be any weirder, were they? Lukas felt doubt growing in him, as the flames became weaker and weaker as seconds passed.

What did he get himself into?

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End of the first chapter ! I hope you enjoyed it ! :D

Chapter two is still a WIP at the moment, but that might change in the near future! My other fanfiction, Reliving An Old Nightmare, is my current priority, but I might continue this one if I'm in need of change!

Thank you for reading !

Chapter 2 =>

#A Hat In Time #fanfiction #my art #The Part-Time Puppeteer #TPTP #snatcher #puppet au #conductor #dj grooves #ahit

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