#or maybe he realizes that the plot can't possibly be coming from the station so he goes after the next most logical source: section 31

[a-most-beloved-fool]

sometimes in garashir fics, observers are inexplicably Really Happy for the couple, and Garak (used to being generally untrusted and ostracized) is like. hmm. that's unexpected, but i appreciate it! and doesn't really question it further

but i also think it would be funny to have people be super supportive and for Garak to go full paranoia-mode about it. "They must be lying, there must be a plot. They would never be this pleased to see the Doctor dating a former member of the Obsidian Order otherwise. Bashir is part of their plan, clearly, but is he in on it? What is their plan? Why is it so important that I date Bashir?" And then Garak starts desperately looking through all of the station's classified information and spying on officers, trying to find what bit of information he missed

In my heart, this fic is silly in spirit with a happy ending (and perhaps a very stunned and confused Garak, who is still trying to process the fact that people were genuinely happy for them and bashir really truly does want him), but it could also make for something very angsty, if people so pleased

[sxs-kav]

I saw Frozen Empire, so obviously I have to talk about it. Spoilers ahead.

Also disclaimer that these are my personal feelings, so if we disagree that's okay too!

So, overall I would rate the movie as good. Not my all time favorite in the franchise, I think that will always go to the original, but I enjoyed it. The story could have used a little work in some parts, but hey, nothing is perfect.

Favorite part of this whole movie: one Dr. Raymond Stantz, hands down. He is so cute as an old man-child whose enthusiasm hasn't waned the least bit over the years. Honestly, in Afterlife he seemed like he'd become cynical, but here his true nature really rang through. And I adore him being a mentor for Phoebe and the other younger characters, while also getting into mischief with them. That little sparkle in his eye when Phoebe asks "Aren't you retired?" No, Ray is never retired, he will always be ready to suit up.

I also loved in the police station when Phoebe was standing up to Dickless Peck, Ray had this face like he was so proud, like he could see Egon in her, memories of him saying "YOUR MOTHER!" 😆

The other thing I liked about the movie was the expansion of the Ghostbusters as a business, with the research lab. First off, I love that Winston, the one who didn't even believe in ghosts when he was hired, is now almost like the CEO of the company. But also, it opens up more possibilities for this new era and allows for more playing with the world building. Though I feel like it was a wasted opportunity to put in some easter eggs for TRGB. Unless the ghosts featured were in the (*shudder*) Q5 episodes, I didn't recognize any of them from the show. Then again, I guess they're newer ghosts so that wouldn't make sense, but maybe they could have been similar kinds of ghosts. Just as a small reference.

Other favorite parts include:

-The near-lesbian romance between Phoebe and Melody

-Ray smuggling the Mini Pufts from Oklahoma (because of course he would)

-Also just the Mini Pufts in general (why are they so violent?)

-The way Ray's face lit up when Peter came to the firehouse

-Peter being proud that Ray quit smoking

-Peter's unwavering faith that Ray's idea is good and will work, and saying they all trust him

-The library ghost (did they never go back to get her???)

-Gary saying the words to the theme song

-Janine in uniform!

-Slimer eating the pizza with the posesser ghost in it

Now, onto the areas that I felt were not as strong. First of all, I found it wild that Phoebe was being ousted by everyone without any kind of fight. She's the one that started the whole thing up again, she's got the passion, she's got the brains, she's got the glasses and the curls! Her mom says a grand total of NOTHING to defend her in Peck's office, and they all just accept that she can't be a Ghostbuster anymore. Yeah, they don't want to get sued, but it's just weird to me that they don't even seem like they feel that terrible that she got benched. Callie and Trevor are very callous about the whole thing. Only Gary seems like he gives a shit, and he's not even her dad. The way Phoebe's benching ended wasn't all that satisfying either. It would have been nice for the other three to maybe struggle a little without her, realize they need her to balance the team, and try to find a way to get her back. Winston was really the one that got Peck off their backs in the end, no thanks to anyone else (also, I'm pretty sure in that scene, someone in the crowd yells 'dickless' 😆).

Side note, I really don't like Callie's character that much. I think she's self-centered and doesn't seem to care about the kids' feelings unless the situation becomes dire. Maybe she does deep down, but mostly her attitude about everything stinks. Idk, I wouldn't care if she wasn't in the movie at all.

Anyway, back to the plot. I liked the idea of Phoebe's plotline. I wish they'd gone all the way and had her and Melody kiss, I really thought that was coming when she separated from her body. But I have an issue about that particular moment. The decision to suddenly put herself in the chamber like that seemed to come out of nowhere, at least I thought so. They made it like Melody was supposed to be the one tricking her into doing it, but she really never said anything to convince her. Phoebe just decided on her own to try it. I know she mentioned a couple of times wondering what it would feel like to be a ghost, but it wasn't a strong enough buildup to such a risky move. Honestly, when she asked Ray about him wanting to be a ghost, coupled with Winston saying Ray was going to get himself killed, I thought they were foreshadowing killing Ray (and thank God they didn't!).

They also hint at Phoebe specifically being the one that needs to be used but why? Anyone could have been tricked into the chamber and been controlled by Garaka for the chanting.

But moving on from that, the other issue I have is with the firemaster. He was a little too good at controling the fire after what, a couple of hours of practice? I think the character could still work, he could still be a quirky weird guy, but I think I would have made him more of a reluctant inheritor of his grandma's powers. Maybe he struggles with it at first and he figures he can sell the artifacts to Ray to get rid of the responsibility. Then later he can finally accept his fate to help beat Garaka when he starts believing in himself.

Those are the only major parts that I felt could have been tweaked. Besides that, I would have loved to see Slimer and Ray get a moment, just as a nod to their friendship in the show, but I guess they want to stick to one continuity. Of all the things they could have referenced from the show, though, it had to be the Junior GB 😆 It was just a throwaway line, but still, I don't want to remember they were a thing.

Tl;dr, the movie was good and there were a lot of parts I really enjoyed. For the parts that were weak, I'm confident there will be another in the future, so hopefully they'll keep improving.

Also, who the hell voted for Peck to be mayor? I bet he rigged the election.

[the-fallen-blue]

Apropos of nothing in particular and also several annoying things that always seem to come back,

absolutely nothing ever needs to happen in a story.

This isn't even about Watsonian justifications for Doylist bullshit, like she's gotta be naked because she's solar-powered, or whatever. Or not entirely. That's a part of it. But it's a broader category. It's "maybe that woman just wasn't gay in that writer's mind, it would damage the integrity of the character to just ~change~ her for ~woke~" It's "maybe the black guy died because that was the natural end of his story" It's "it wouldn't make sense to have disability in this world because they have healing magic"

It's this idea that a story has some kind of intrinsic, inviolable integrity of its own, that it can make choices for itself outside the minds of the people writing it and those choices are worthy of respect and of more importance than the impact of that story on the very real people involved in creating or reading/watching/playing it.

It should be self-evident that this is not true in a collaborative medium. Maybe the integrity of the character means this is a childfree action hero but now your actor is pregnant. Maybe the natural conclusion of the arc was a huge party setpiece but there was a budget issue and a fire on the lot and now you can only afford a bottle episode. Maybe it wouldn't make sense for the warrior to survive his wounds, but the player might have no other tank in the party and so he has to be available for the final fight.

And so suddenly, magically, what was intended is easily compromised. The warrior gets unexpected help from an old ally, making the injury survivable. The characters never make it to the party and spend the whole episode trying to fix their car at a gas station. The hero somehow gets in-universe knocked-up! And the story is totally derailed, and everyone involved just deals with it and makes the new path as believable and honest as possible because that is the most basic level of competence required from a professional writer.

What is less evident but no less irrefutable is that this applies just as much to a true, one-creative auteur project. There was an outline but the hard drive got bricked. There was an essential character-building plot point but the author foolishly did enough research to realize it wouldn't work. The author has experienced a Lifechanging Perspective-Altering Event and decided they can no longer conscience redeeming the villain, even though it would be out of character for the hero not to try. And now they must work around it. The narrative must adapt to the new goal, the new resources, the new context in which it is created.

Shit happens. Stories change. If you are genuinely incapable of writing a story of just as much quality and honesty when you are presented with an unexpected "you can't do this" or "you must do that," if you genuinely cannot create a work of art that has value and power when you do not have absolute freedom, I am afraid the problem is not the limits, it is that you simply suck at writing.

In fact, the true argument being made with "maybe the story just ~had~ to go that way" is not that an author cannot work around limits; it is that the particular limit being objected to is not one that an author ever should be asked to work around. EG, the boobplate is out of character, but it has a financial reason, "sex sells," and that is acceptable. Making the deuteragonist bi even though the devs originally designed him as straight doesn't actually change anything about the story, but that has a woke reason, "letting queer gamers experience the same story as straight ones," and that is not acceptable. It is not genuinely a discussion of the requirements or integrity of the storytelling process; it is the exact same tired old conflict about whose benefit and whose harm should be centered, in storytelling as in everything else.

[boar-cry]

I absolutely adore your 'Gear Station is alive' premise, cause it can go in so many different directions. Those 'the house is alive' stories are SO fascinating to me, and I definetly remember loving Monster House when I was like 8.

But some questions I have are this :

Just how conscious and sentient is the Station? Is it like a wild animal, where it tolerates humans cause of the symbiotic relationship they provide (ie humans repair and maintain its 'body', and they get to go places quickly)? Or it is much more intelligent? Is the Station itself alive, or is it being controlled by some reality warping creature?

Which leads into : how much control does the Station have over itself? Can it create or block off tunnels? Can it control the flow of electricity, network signals, all the other stuff required to run a subway, etc.?

And what does it think about our two funky subway bosses? Is it just passively keeping an eye on them (heh) to make sure they do things properly (like in that amazing short comic you posted), or is it like 'omg it's the frowny boss hiiii you're doing such a good job, keep at it :D".

Also, a more disturbing question, how... fleshy, is the Station? Does it have organs? Are the walls it's veins, or its *skin*? Does it require sustenance from more... organic sources?

Honestly, I can't wait for how you handle the plot of this because there are SO many possibilities as to how it can go.

Like maybe there is a sudden uptick in disappearances of subway commuters happening (or fairdodgers, or Team Plasma grunts who thought itd be a good idea to invade Gear Station and try to flee through the tunnels), with absolutely NO leads (motivation, guilty parties, *bodies*). And then the employees start seeing bones and torn clothes at like, the very very deep recesses of the tunnels.

Or maybe it can be a spin on the PLA plot. Like Ingo disappears in the tunnels, Emmet is freaking out, but this time Chandelure can sense him. He's still in the tunnels, *alive*. But no matter how much Emmet and Chandelure search for him, they always go in circles. Literally. Cause the Station morphs and redirects the tunnels so that they never get to Ingo. Why it has him? Who knows. But while Emmet and others are freaking out over this, Ingo is having his adventures in Hisui. It's the same thing but much more peaceful. He's content, and kinda happy, but he can't stop thinking that this isn't right and that he's missing someone or something. This could work as a psychological thriller for both twins ; Ingo as he slowly realizes that Hisui is just a illusion put on him to keep him static, and Emmet trying to figure out why the walls are actually moving, he's worked here for like 10 years, he knows the tunnels like the back of his hand, so there should NOT be a left turn here. And wtf was that a giant *eye ball* he just saw??

Or maybe the Station just really likes Ingo and Emmet. In its entire existence, those two have been the most competent bosses who maintain the station at tiptop shape. Everything is upgraded, up to date and safety regulations, everything runs smoothly and efficiently, the twins are so enthusiastic and passionate about its trains, the Station has never felt this well cared for and it *loves* them. Seriously, why don't those two just live here, in the tunnels? It could literally give them a home here. And it could keep a close eye on them here, make sure nothing hurts them. (Okay admittedly, reading this over I chuckled at the idea of a yandere building XD).

Anyways, enough of my yapping, what do you think of this? Again, can't wait to see where this AU goes, and have a good day/afternoon/evening/night.

I am shaking you VIOLENTLY YOU ARE ASKING ALL THE RIGHT QUESTIONS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 💕💕💕

As for your questions I'm gonna answer as best as I can without giving too much away >:]]

So! Here goes:

The idea that I had for Gear Station is that it's not really "possessed" as it is well and truly Alive and able to come to terms with that; much in the same way that humans need all their important parts and organs to survive, so does Gear Station. Now, GS can metaphorically lose a bit more pieces of itself (something like renovations or a collapsed wall won't actually hurt it since it doesn't feel pain), so long as it doesn't lose its Soul or Will. I kinda wanna leave this a bit ambiguous and let the reader come to their own interpretations, but I do have another comic idea down the line that will give a bit more insight to Gear Stations thoughts and feelings on the matter of its own existence!

For control, my ideas is that it acts somewhat akin to what Humans are like, just perhaps on a more literal level and to a much larger scale. For an example, running water through it's pipes, blood running through its veins - or even using your example, electricity acting as the equivalent to the electrical impulses that run through our nerves! Some things that keep it "alive" in human terms are done automatically by the systems created by those same humans (like how we breath automatically or our heart pumps blood without our say); but at any time it can choose to stop whatever it wishes! If it decides it doesn't want a certain train on the tracks, it can reach down (metaphorically speaking) and make sure that train does not move or start. On the side of the humans, it would be seen as their equipment failing, but with no obvious cause behind it, something refusing to budge. The Will behind Gear Station will always override the body.

This sort of ties into a question you asked later down; while Gear Station doesn't have literal organs between its walls, it does compare certain parts of itself to those of humans. It refers to itself as having skin and bones, but those skin and bones are brick and mortar and steel from the humans perspective.

How it feels about the twins remains to be seen >:]

How it also deals with "infestations" also remains to be seen >:]]

YOUR IDEA BEHIND THE PLA PLOT IS SO GOOD THOUGH!!! It's not the idea I have in mind (Hisui is very much Real and its impacts will very much affect Gear Station), but I would LOVE to read a story like that in full!!! 💕💕 (seriously I am BEGGING you for more please please please please please please)

As for the unexplained 'oddities' that the twins (may or may not) take notice of, some will just be brushed off as small mistakes on the paperwork they inherented, some will be investigated and remain unexplainable, and some they will not question at all (because that might mean coming to terms with uncomfortable truths about their reality that neither are ready to deal with).

Okay that's all I believe I can answer without giving too much away of something I'm still ironing out the details of (and things may change tbh), but thank you so SO much for the ask!!!! It's was super fun to finally put the rough ideas I have down, and I hope I can do this story justice! And have an even BETTER day/afternoon/evening/night!!!

[princess-of-the-corner]

I would like to write an angst fanfic with the following plot but I don't know if people would read it:

Ladybug ends up accidentally sending the message to Chat Noir about Monarch's identity but ends up not realizing it. So once Adrien transforms to patrol during one night, he notice the message and reads it, and he obviously become shocked and feels betrayed by Ladybug but then he realizes that Plagg probably knows about it and hasn't told him either. He de-transforms and asks Plagg if he knew the truth and the Kwami confirms, Adrien then decides to renounce the Cat Miraculous so he can have some time to think alone.

Then Adrien realizes, Felix probably knows this too and hasn't told him, he calls his cousin and asks him directly if he knows the truth and Felix confirms. Adrien then asks if he could speak to his aunt and asks Felix to put it on speaker phone, Adrien then asks Amelie if she knew the truth too and she confirms. Adrien then hangs up on them.

The more Adrien thinks about it, he ends up realizing that Kagami probably knew too, since Felix trusts her with everything. He calls Kagami and she asks her if she knew the truth and she ends up confirming that she did.

Adrien feels more and more betrayed, his lady, his kwami, his cousin, his aunt, his friend, they all lied to him. He comes to wonder if Nathalie knows the truth too when he realizes: Nathalie was Mayura. It's the only explanation, after all she was a long time friend of his parents not just a secretary. Even the woman he considers like a second mother is not only lying to him but also helped his father hurt innocent people. This is the final nail in the coffin for Adrien, he writes a letter to each of them, saying how disappointed he is in all of them.

So, he puts on the wig and contact lenses he bought so he can go out in public without being recognized and puts on a different outfit than he normally wears. He packs a backpack with essentials and leaves the mansion in the dead of night, since he now has the password to the gate and the security cameras have not yet been reinstalled, it is the perfect escape. Adrien takes the metro and ends up getting off at the station as far away from the center of Paris as possible.

It's raining and he ends up taking shelter under a fast food stall and ends up sleeping. When dawn breaks, the owner of the stall ends up waking Adrien and asking what such a young boy was doing sleeping under his fast food stall. Adrien says he eventually found out that most of the people who care about him lied to him and he can't just act like everything is fine, so he ran away from home.

The man, understanding the situation that Adrien was in, feels sorry for him and wanting to help invites him to go to his house to dry off and have breakfast with him and his wife, and Adrien accepts. When the man asks Adrien his name he says it's Adriano and when Adrien asks the man his name he says Raimund but is better known as Mr. Grassette.

OOP

Also YEAH Adrien really needs some time away from everything to process.

(I think Plagg is probably under orders from Marinette to not tell him so maybe give him a break on this.)

[smutsonian]

crybaby

the salesman (squid game) x female reader

summary: a young woman finds herself being cut off from her father’s earnings after an accident which pushes her into the hands of a certain man who takes a liking to her.

warnings: 18+, dark fic, noncon/dubcon, innocent!reader, naive!reader, brat reader, dark!salesman, yandere, age gap but reader is of age, obsession, stalking, injured reader, smut, d/s, ddlg-ish, daddy kink, virgin!reader, porn with little plot kind of, crybaby!reader, dacryphilia, manipultion?, breeding kink kind of, creampie, confusing narration, possible mistakes and typos

word count: 5.4k

a/n: endless thanks to @crappedoutlungs​ for never getting tired of proofreading my shit

main masterlist

She couldn't believe what was happening to her. Her father would take drastic measures to punish her for one simple mistake, such as canceling all of her credit cards?

It's not like she purposely crashed the new Mercedes. It was an accident, and instead of being concerned about her health, they decided to renounce her? She couldn't even walk in a straight line, and they're throwing her out?

“We’re not making you leave, sweetie. We’re simply closing all of your accounts until you realize how valuable all this is. You can’t just buy a car and then crash it after three days,” her father explains but it goes straight out her other ear.

She cries in pain as she rises from her bed, slapping her father's hand away as he tries to assist her.

"You're acting as if I purposely crashed it! It wasn't my fault at all, daddy! I'm in pain! Why can't you see that? My leg is completely messed up!" She bounces around, clinging to her father, hoping for his pity once more. In hopes that he'll reverse the freezing of her bank accounts.

"That's why you need to learn a lesson," her father says as he moves her and places her on the bed. As her father continues to chastise her, she only reacts with a huff.

"Seeing you in pain kills me, so I'm stopping you from making another mistake. I don't want to hear about another accident involving you. Your bank accounts will be frozen until you learn to behave like an adult and stop acting recklessly." His words were final, and even if she wanted to complain more, she couldn't, so she walked out of her room before her father could.

She hopped pathetically out of her room, ignoring the way her father called for her. She dashed towards the garage and asked David, the driver, to take her to her friend Dani's house.

David nods once before assisting her inside and driving away, only stopping because of traffic. David answers his phone's incessant ringing and visibly gulps as the caller yells something at him. He turns to face the young woman in the back and gives her an apologetic look.

“Your father wants me to take you back.”

Before the driver can say anything else, she jumps out of the car and waddles towards the metro station, silently laughing as she enjoys the driver's exhausted expression. She felt like a child who was being chased by her father.

She slowly comes to a stop as she recalls her father. She despises the thought of her father despising her, so she huffs angrily as she walks towards the... She had no idea where she was going. She couldn't ask Dani how to get to her location by train because she didn't have her phone with her.

Just her luck, she comes across a man, perhaps ten years or more her senior, dressed up in an expensive suit and carrying a briefcase. Maybe she can borrow his phone from him. Does she even know Dani's phone number by heart?

It doesn’t matter. He looks trustworthy enough.

She walks towards the man but comes to a halt when she notices him raising an eyebrow at her. Embarrassment starts creeping up her spine.

She takes a deep breath before continuing to approach the man and briefly introducing herself and asking if she could borrow his phone.

"I'm sorry, but I can't do that," the guy says as he bows in respect before turning his back on the girl, but is stopped by her hand on his forearm.

“Why not?” She almost whined, clearing her throat before repeating the question clearly. “Why not, mister?”

"Lending a stranger my valuables isn't really a good idea," he said with a smirk.

She visibly scoffs at his words, clearly offended.

“W-what?” Her eyes flutter as she struggles to believe what the man has said. Did she strike him as a thief? She couldn’t even look him in the eyes anymore. She felt humiliated.

She ignored whatever the man said and turned around, limping out of the metro and deciding to take the bus instead. Hopefully, Dani was home, so she could just rant to her about her terrible day.

“He thought I was a thief!” The young woman exclaimed, laughing when Dani laughed at her outburst.

“He must have been living under a rock if he hasn’t heard about you… You did mention that he was old so it's possible that he’s never heard of your dad’s business before. Maybe he’s a scammer and his get-up was just a trick,” Dani’s eyes widen as the young woman considers her friend’s theories.

"He isn't that old... I'm not sure what I'd do if I didn't have you, Dani!" The young woman jokingly cried before hugging her friend.

"Forget about your father. And don't even think about the salesman from the station. I'm sure your father will calm down by tomorrow. I'm sure he'll welcome you with open arms as soon as you get home," Dani smiles before turning off the lights and heading to bed.

The young woman sighs and pulls the blanket over her head, allowing sleep to consume her.

The young woman's plan did not go as planned the next day. Her father called Dani to talk to her and he all but screamed and berated her once more. He chastised her for being stubborn and extended the freezing of her bank accounts. She cried, but her father only hung up on her.

"What do you intend to do now?" Dani inquired.

"I'm going home and then I'm leaving," the young woman says firmly and with a frown.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Dani trailed her as she walked out of the house and into the distance.

"No, but I'll call you later.  But first, could you tell me how to use the metro station?" With a sheepish grin, she inquired.

Dani laughed and nodded.

The young woman sits on a bench waiting for the train, determined to return home and prove to her father that she doesn't need him. She regretted staying at Dani's for the entire day because the nearly empty train station terrified her, and the darkness outside didn't help.

She was terrified when she heard footsteps approaching her, so she kept her head down, hoping that whatever or whoever it was would simply vanish.

However, a familiar warm voice engulfed her ears.

"Excuse me, may I take a seat?" When the salesman from yesterday pointed to the seat next to her, she only nodded, taking her gaze away from him and frowning to herself. Why sit next to her when there were plenty of empty benches nearby?

"Would you like to play a game?" The salesman inquired softly.

“No thank you,” The young lady immediately responded, frowning when she heard the man quietly chuckle.

“It’s a simple game. Ddakji. Ever heard of it?” The man continued to speak.

“I’m sorry but what happened to stranger danger?” The young lady inquired, her voice quiet despite her desire to scream at the man who had insulted her the day before. She did, however, become shy in his presence.

She could feel the man staring at her, but she didn't dare to return his gaze.

"Would you please look at me while I speak to you?" His voice became stern all of a sudden, and she found herself obeying him and looking at him with her eyes wide open.

The salesman chuckled before whispering something in her ear, causing her body to warm up.

“Good girl.”

The woman gulped and kept staring at the man who was now opening the briefcase between them.

“It’s simple. Each time you win, I’ll give you a hundred grand. If I win, you give me the same amount of money. Does that sound fair?” He opens the case to show her the money as well as two papers.

When she didn't respond, she felt his fingers on her chin, tilting it up so she could look him in the eyes before tilting his head in question.

“I-I…” She nods, thinking about how this will help her show her father that she doesn't need him.

“I want to hear it, little girl,” the man smirks at her when he feels her face becoming hotter under her touch and takes it away from her face.

"I'll play," she says, reflecting on how simple the game is.

The man hums happily before showing her two papers, one red and the other blue.

“Pick a color,” he says, smiling when the younger woman takes the blue one away from his grasp.

"You can go first," the man says as he throws his paper to the ground.

"No, no, no.  You can go first." The woman kneels to place her paper on the ground before picking up the red paper and handing it to the man who was smiling down at her.

He nods before rising to his feet and slamming his paper on top of the blue one, successfully flipping it.

He smirks at the girl who was staring at the papers with wide eyes before looking back at him with a nod.

"My turn," she says as she picks up her paper and throws it at the red one, which barely grazed it.

When he notices the girl chewing on her thumbnail, the man's arrogant smile turns into a fake frown.

"Is there something wrong?" He asks, feigning concern for the girl, but still removes her hand from her mouth to prevent her from nibbling on her thumb before standing tall again.

“I-I don’t have a hundred grand right now…” she says under her breath.

"Wait, what was that?" He asks again, despite the fact that he heard her the first time. He simply enjoys watching the girl be nervous.

The girl repeats her words louder this time, her eyes slightly teary as she looks at the man.

“How about you use your body to pay?” 

That causes the young woman's eyes to widen.

“Wha--”

She was interrupted when the salesman slapped her on the left cheek. She was stunned and emotional, clearly having never experienced anything like this from anyone else. No one, not even her strict father.

The salesman observed the young woman as she held her left cheek with both hands as her once slightly teary eyes began to produce more tears until she was full-on crying, minus the sobs that she tried hard to suppress.

The salesman's heart clenches as he gazes at the woman's lovely face, and his pants begin to tighten around the crotch area.

"How about another round?" He tries to smile at her, to cheer her up, but the way she shakes her head no, scared of him, breaks his heart but makes his cock harder at the same time.

"I-I don't want to play anymore," she says, dropping the blue paper on the ground and limping away from him, which he only now notices.

He calls for her but it didn’t make her stop.

“I know about your father freezing your accounts. I know about you more than you think I do. I know you’ve got nowhere to go,” he smiles when she finally stops but frowns when he sees her face filled with tears and anger as she turns around.

“Are y-you stalking me now?” Her voice wavers, making him feel even worse.

"Not at all, little girl. I…” He closes his briefcase before reaching for the card in his front pocket, but he comes to a halt halfway through. He couldn't let her participate in the game. She wouldn't last a second in that place. She's far too delicate. She must be protected.

He approaches her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder before squatting to be at eye level with her.

“I can help you,” he smiles.

The woman, who was overly emotional and in pain, only stared at him with hopeful eyes, so he continued to speak.

“I’ll help you, my little crybaby. I’ll make sure that your father will regret pushing you away. Wouldn’t you like that?” He speaks softly, caressing her face and brushing the back of her head as she leans in closer to his embrace.

“But you slapped me…” She murmurs beneath him.

His chest rumbles as he chuckles, but he comes to a halt before gently rubbing her back. At the very least, he got her attention.

“It was a mistake, and I will never do anything to upset you like this again. I promise.” He speaks, but she doesn't respond, instead, she continues to bask in his embrace.

“I will help you. I will be here for you and we’ll make your father regret everything. Is that what you want?” He tries once more.

"Yeah," she finally nods against his chest, making him smile triumphantly.

He draws her in closer before taking a whiff of her hair.

She’s so frail. So delicate. So sensitive. So ethereal.  She does not deserve to be in pain. She needs to be protected.

He’ll protect her.

He’ll take good care of her. Only him and no one else.

The salesman assisted the woman out of the train and onto his home with care. It took almost everything he had not to just carry her all the way home because he didn't like the way she kept limping. But he liked how she leaned into him for support. He liked the idea of her putting her trust in him.

It makes him wonder what else she will entrust him with.

As the salesman assisted her in becoming acquainted with his home, the woman gazed around in awe. It was almost as big as her house, if not bigger. She smiles slightly at the prospect of doing better without her father. Her father expected her to apologize and suffer despite the fact that she had done nothing wrong. She is not going to apologize for something she did not do. At least not on purpose.

The young lady was brimming with pride and the salesman was well aware of it. He can't decide whether he likes that aspect of her or if he wants to tame it. He already admired her nervousness towards him. It makes him wonder if she'll be his actual good girl.

While he admired the woman, she admired his house. He could sense her discomfort at not knowing what to do next, so he decided to put her out of her misery.

"I'll take you to the room, and then I'll make something for dinner," he says, earning a nod from the girl as she follows him down the long corridors.

After being left in the room, the woman looks around, admiring the large bedroom and limping around to get a better look at everything.

She gulped as she entered the walk-in closet and saw an array of designer suits and designer shoes. It's the salesman's room. Why did he bring her here? Will they be sharing the same room?

She jumped when she heard his voice coming from the entrance, not realizing she'd been gawking at the closet for a long time now.

"Are you ready to eat?"

She looked at him with wide eyes, which he realized was an endearing expression on her face. She appeared to be completely innocent.

“Why am I staying in your room? I’m sure you have plenty of guest rooms...”  Her voice had grown louder, no longer the shy girl he'd seen at the train station.  

She observed as the salesman cocked his head to the side and mockingly pouted at her.

"I'm so sorry. Is the princess dissatisfied with this room?" His words, as well as the new nickname, cause her eyes to widen.

“You’re a brat, aren’t you?” When she tries to hide from his gaze, he walks closer to her, tilting her chin up with his fingers.

“If your father allowed you to talk down on him all the time, don’t expect me to do the same. You, my little princess, are in my home. If you want this to work, you must follow my instructions. Failure to do so will result in punishments.” He leans in closer, gazing deeply into her eyes as he enjoys her shaking form.

"And I don't think you like being punished, you crybaby," he smirked, wiping the tears away with his thumb as they began to fall down her cheeks.

“I-I’m not a crybaby!” She whimpered, more tears welling up at the humiliation she was receiving.

“Are you going to cry just because I called you a crybaby?” He cooed, laughing quietly when she shouted no at him before crying harder and desperately trying to wipe the ongoing tears.

He sighed and drew her into a hug, pressing her face against his chest and cooing at her until she calmed down.

After a while, he pulls away before squatting down and wiping away the rest of her tears.

"If you keep being a good girl, I won't have to punish you. Would you be able to do that for me, princess?" He smiles at her, urging her to respond, which she does with a nod.

"I'd like to hear it, princess," he says with another smile as he nods at her.

“I-I’ll be good,” she says shyly before humming when he hugs her.

“My good girl?” He asks again and smiled against her head when she nodded.

The salesman didn’t miss how the girl welcomed his touch with open arms whenever he shows her that he’s the one in control.

He'll have so much fun with his adorable little crybaby.

He gets to his feet and takes her with him, carrying her out of the closet and onto his bed, carefully placing her with a sigh.

He places a white shirt beside her on the bed before leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

"I'll get you some food," he says as he exits the room, leaving her alone.

She looks down at the shirt before pawing at it and realizing that it was one of his. Before she could unfold the shirt, he came back with a tray filled with various food.

She sat up excitedly, waiting for him to approach her, and smiled when she saw the appetizing dish that had been served to her.

She hears him chuckling but ignores it, reaching for the spoon only to have her hand slapped away.

She let out a yelp before looking at him with yet another pair of tearful eyes.

"Patience, my crybaby," he warns before pulling a white cloth from his pocket and hooking it like a bib on the front of her shirt.

She watches him as he takes the spoon she tried to take earlier, scoops some soup on it, and carefully blows on it before guiding it to her lips.

She looks at him strangely, not opening her mouth, but one hard look from him compelled her to comply.

That pleased him.

He observed her lips wrapping around the spoon and considered whether he should simply feed her some fruits with his own hand.

He made the decision to test the waters.

Taking one grape and placing it near her mouth, he licked his lips as he watched her try her hardest not to touch his fingers with her lips. He did, however, surprise her by shoving two fingers inside her mouth. He shot her a warning glance, daring her to bite him, but she didn't.

"Good girl," he smirked as he replaced those two fingers with his thumb and pressed his thumb against her tongue.

He groans as her tongue brushes against his thumb, and with her confused expression, he doubts she knows what she's doing to him.

How hard she’s making him.

He shoves his thumb further, making her gag and produce tears in her eyes.

"Such a crybaby," he cooed before removing his thumb from her mouth and slamming his lips against hers, his tongue replacing his thumb and lapping her tongue with hunger.

Eager to get a taste of her.

He basked in her whimpers and tried his best to taste every corner of her mouth before abruptly pulling away as his cock started to get so stiff that it started to hurt.

He takes her hand by the wrist and gives her a reassuring look before guiding it towards his crotch, making her feel how hard he is through his pants.

"Do you see what you're doing to me?" With a groan, he humps her hand, his jaw clenched in need.

"M-Mister," her small voice only makes him harder, and if he hadn't seen her face filled with tears mixed with that familiar innocence, he would've continued humping her hand.

He comes to a halt, never letting go of her hand, before kneeling on the bed and leaning close to her face.

“Have you never touched someone like this before?”

His face lights up when she shakes her head in disagreement.

"You truly are innocent," he says as he lets go of her hand and caresses her face with both palms.

“Tell me, princess…” He gives her a quick kiss before looking at her face.

"Are you getting wet for me?" he smirks, sliding a hand down her sweatpants, straight to her cunt, and sliding his lithe fingers through her soaking slit.

“Ohh!” He laughs as she closes her eyes in humiliation. He comforts her with his free hand back on her cheek as he shushed her against her lips.

“You’re so wet for me, princess. Are you going to let me take care of you?” He waits for an answer but never receives one.

He growls and pushes the tray off the bed, making a loud noise that causes the girl to open her eyes.

She stares at him with wide, fearful eyes, yelping when he pushes her shoulders so hard that she falls onto her back.

As he climbs over her body, his hand returns to her cunt, the other hand wiping the tears that had begun to fall down the side of her face.

"Has anyone ever touched you here, princess?" He licks his bottom lips as he watches her eyes flutter in pleasure, but she refuses to answer his question, which frustrates him.

When he feels her getting close, he abruptly pulls his hand away, eliciting a quiet whine from her that he would've chuckled at if he wasn't so frustrated with her lack of response to his questions.

“I asked you a question, princess. And I expect an answer!” He growls before yanking her sweatpants down, along with her panties.

“N-No! Nobody!” She screamed, and the salesman grinned, crawling up to press another kiss on her lips.

"Such a good girl," he mutters through the kiss, biting her bottom lip, which causes her hips to jolt against his, slamming into his painfully hard cock.

"Fuck!" he hisses, making the girl beneath him stiffen.

“If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to stop myself from fucking you hard, princess. And believe me when I say that I want to see you fall apart before I do that,” he says as he stares at her needy and curious eyes.

He chuckles at the prospect of her liking what he's doing to her and about to do to her.

“You’d want that, won’t you, princess? Would you like daddy to ruin this lovely pussy?” He slides a finger inside her, eliciting a loud whine from her, her hands harshly gripping his shoulders, attempting to ignore the minor pain from the intrusion.

The salesman clicks his tongue but has a concerned expression on his face.

“How will you handle my cock if you can’t even handle one finger, princess?” When she opens her eyes and looks at him with sad and shy eyes, he smiles.

He sighs as he leans in to kiss her on the nose.

“Don’t worry. Daddy will get you nice and ready before he ruins you with his cock, okay?” Not waiting for a response, he begins to pull the finger out before pushing it back in to produce more juice from her.

He adds another finger before scissoring her and attempting to open her up, her cries and heavy breathing filling his ears.

"If you keep crying like that, I might just fuck you right now," he glares at her cunt before moving his fingers faster, his thumb finding its way to her clit, making her body jolt and him grin with pride.

He focuses on her clit, and when he notices her legs shaking, he knows she's close.

He dives his head towards her neck, licking and sucking on a specific area while his fingers continue to satisfy her cunt. She's squirting under him after a few more strokes, her voice sounding like an angel singing only for him. The way her walls gripped his fingers made him excited, and the pulsing of her clit only increased his desire for her.

Her cries were silenced when he kissed her once more, his tongue lapping her own before pulling away when she moaned needily against him.

He quickly unbuttons his shirt before tossing it somewhere and then yanks his pants off as quickly as he can so he can kiss her lips again, moaning loudly at the taste of her. He grunts before crawling down so he was faced with her cunt.

"I need to taste you down here, princess," he whispers, his breath tickling her, making her clench her thighs around his head, which he stops with his firm hands, spreading her wide open, his hands gripping her tightly, making sure she can't move her thighs.

His tongue danced around her slit before going in to taste her juices. He pulls it out to circle around her clit, flattening it directly on it which makes her mewl above him. A few licks and sucking on her sensitive clit were enough to make her cum again, he smirked as he sat up, watching her face light up with ecstasy.

He quickly crawled back up to her lips, making her taste herself against his lips. His cock rests heavily on her thighs, eager to settle inside her cunt.

He grunts and moans against her lips while humping her thighs, causing her to cry.

“P-please…” Her hands were flat on his stomach, attempting to push him away, her face filled with fear and anxiety as he lines his cock against her cunt.

“I’ll make you feel good, princess. I won’t hurt you purposely,” he assures her, frowning when she shakes her head from side to side.

"Don't make me tie you down, princess," he says dangerously before kissing her cheek and smiling as he wipes her tears away.

"I promise I'll make you feel good," he says as he kisses her lips again before coating his cock with her juices. With dark and lustful eyes, he observes the way his cock slides against her lips.

He looks back at her with an apologetic look before giving her a reassuring pat on her thigh.

"It will hurt at first, but it will only last a second," he explains watching his cock pressing against her slit. He licks his lips as his head enters her with some resistance from her cunt.

He looks at her teary eyes before leaning down to kiss her lips, swallowing the scream she lets out when he pushes his cock all the way inside her. His hand finds its way to her hair, rubbing it comfortingly while the other rubs her side.

“I’m sorry, princess. I’m so sorry,” he says through the kiss, holding his position for a full minute before moving slowly to pull away, cringing slightly when she cries against his kiss. He pulls away from the kiss before kissing her neck, sucking at the hope of marking her and diverting attention away from the pain.

He pushes his cock in one stroke, eliciting a moan from her this time.

He smiles at her closed eyes, enjoying the sensation of her warm pulsing walls surrounding his cock.

He moves his lips from her neck to her chest, licking her nipple before moving the other, teasingly biting it, causing her to clench around his cock.

"Fuck, princess," he moans before thrusting into her faster, his gaze fixed on her face.

He braces himself as he continues to piston into her, hips slamming against hers, eager to hit her as deep as he can with each stroke.

He notices her eyes widening before her hands push against his chest.

“N-No, I...” She whimpers as he grabs both her wrists and places them on the headboard, trapping her as he continues to thrust into her.

“Cum on me, princess. Don’t you fucking dare hold it!” His voice booms, his hips slamming into hers even harder, eager to make her cum around him.

“Do it! Cum for daddy, princess!” They both scream in delight when she finally cums, crying in pleasure as her arms wrap around his torso, pulling him close while his hips continue to thrust into her cunt, motivated and needier at the way her pussy was creaming his cock.

He hears her whining beneath him, too sensitive for his cock, but he only shushes her, kissing her and praising her for being a good girl.

“Just a few more, princess,” he says softly, almost beggingly.

The girl observes him as he cries in pleasure, unable to pull out and cumming inside her. The warmth surprised her, and his constant thrust causes her to cum once more. When he feels her clenching around him again, the salesman groans, laughing heartily at how he was able to make her cum again.

His cock continues to twitch inside her, emptying his seed before collapsing beside her and pulling her against his chest.

"You've been such a good girl, princess," he says before kissing her on the forehead, her eyes already fluttering shut from exhaustion.

"T-thank you, daddy," she mumbles nonchalantly, but his cock, which is still inside her, jumps in delight.

“My good girl,” he smiles before letting himself fall asleep next to her.

The girl wakes up in a bathtub when she hears the man’s voice softly calling her.

“It’s your father,” he says, pointing at the smartphone in his hands. 

"Would you like to tell him something, princess?" The man smirks at the haughty expression on the girl's face. She nods and gazes adoringly at the man as he kneels beside the tub and places the phone by her ear, bright eyes fixed on her.

“I don’t need you anymore, daddy. I’m not going home and I’m not apologizing for something that I didn’t do,” she ends with a huff, watching the man smirk at the phone before ending the call.

"Good girl," he says, his hands caressing her thighs beneath the pink water.

“How are you feeling? Did I go too hard on you?” He looks at her with concern in his eyes.

The girl shakes her head and smiles at him, her hand resting on top of his.

"Just a little sore, daddy," she whispers, giggling as his eyes darken.

"Let's get you ready for bed," he says as he pulls her up and out of the tub, his hands under her arms.

He takes his time drying her, the big towel feeling soft against her skin and she gulps at the way he took his time drying her private parts.

The girl admires his face when he buttons his shirt on her body.

“What are you looking at, brat?” He teases, smirking when she pouts, eyes threatening to make tears.

“I’m not a brat!”

"No, you aren't.  You're a crybaby," he quips, amused by the way she frowns at him. He wipes the lines away from her face, kissing her nose repeatedly, which makes her giggle.

"You're my little crybaby, princess.  And you're not going to leave me, are you?" He looks at her intimately, his heart pounding as he waits for her response.

"Never, daddy," she says as she pecks his lips. As she attempted to pull back, he drew her back, a hand behind her head to prevent her from fleeing.

He jumps into bed with her, turning their bodies until he's straddling her.

“It’s you and me forever,” he smiles when she nods in agreement at him.

The salesman admires the girl, his heart skipping a beat at the memory of his original plan for her. He was relieved that he had not allowed his girl to participate in the game. She didn't belong there. She belonged nowhere but with him. She's finally found her place.

She’s where she belongs now.

With him.

a/n: we might have not learned a lesson here but we did get ourselves a fine zaddy so ✌🏼

been kinda simping for this guy so I had to make a thirst trap for him :3 im not dead btw. but not too far from it too. university is killing ur girl :’) i’ve been thinking of writing a squid game au for a while now too like frontman!steve or whatever but ehh

also, i know i fucked up the ddakji game so pls try to ignore that 🥴

taglist:

General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @empath-bunny @belovedcherry @white-wolf1940 @the-soulofdevil @mianorth @scorpiosmalfoy @rottenstyx @denisemarieangelina @littlegasps @priii

[roseverdict]

hey i vaguely remember there being a few AUs where the various characters of gravity falls are shuffled around in their roles and their ages and whatnot

has anybody done a sock opera for "the au where the stans are the kids and mabel's in the portal" which may or may not be called "inverted relativity falls"

i call it "rock operation"

short version: i chucked the character roles into a blender and this came out

long version:

the two conflicting plotlines:

Stanley wants to go to a rock concert, and to do so he does chores around the cabin for money to buy tickets.

Stanford comes across a laptop left behind by "The Maker Of The Scrapbooks" and wants to figure out the password and get in.

How they turn into a Sock Opera With A Twist:

Stanley juggles his many chores with helping Stanford try and crack the laptop.

Stanford continually pulls Stanley away from the chores. He doesn't mean harm by it, but it starts wearing Stanley down.

Stanley begins losing sleep.

Stanford declares he'll help Stanley make money as the concert date approaches, but gets hit with a "eureka" moment and scrambles back to try another possible password.

Stanley eventually falls asleep in the middle of straightening various figures and plushes of fantasy characters (from Grunkle Dipper's DDMD campaigns). (He wonders if the plushes are handmade. The answer is yes. They point to Mabes.)

(He's been insisting he "can handle it" whenever somebody goes "uh dude are you sure you should be working this hard, i'm pretty sure you need sleep" and that includes when Grunkle Dipper says it)

Bill appears and convinces Stanley that "All [he] want[s] is a puppet!"

we all know how that goes.

Bill: "now, where's that laptop?"

in canon, Mabel yoinks the Journal for a prop and runs off to get the stage set up for her play and "i'm gonna go before you process this sentence okay BYEEEEE!!!"

in this version, Stanford declares he's gonna go to the library with the laptop and do some more research and Stanley should probably get some sleep and he'd catch up with him later and "i'm gonna go before you process this sentence okay BYEEEEE!!!"

bill decides to go after him, but without anybody expecting him to need a ride, he winds up going on foot, and, for more sadism points, he purposely injures stanley as he goes

this gives stanley, who can fly at this point, enough time to grab one of the plushies he'd been straightening and shoot off towards the library to warn stanford

stanford is, understandably, skeptical, but quickly comes around when they see bill stanley (or "billey") walk into the library

he tells stanley to go get grunkle dipper. "he'll know what to do! i'll keep bill distracted!"

they split back up and go to their battle stations

so stanley goes off to find dipper, who has wandered off to people-watch, except with the supernatural creatures of gravity falls

dipper doesn't realize it's him at first, but a quick check with Insert Plot Device Truth Checker Here proves stanley's identity

he promptly FLIPS THE FUCK OUT and has stanley lead him to where stanford and billey are

as they run/fly, stanley explains what happened

meanwhile, stanford starts clambering around on top of bookshelves, intentionally being noisy so bill knows where he is and can follow him

he's shuffling around on the shelves and manages to climb up to the library roof, and for a moment, he can't find billey

("it's quiet.")

("…too quiet.")

he freaks out a bit and starts heading back into the library to see where billey went. "maybe i can find Stanley and think of another plan"

billey, climbing up onto the roof and startling stanford: "oh, but why would you wanna do that?"

bipper's dramatic scene was him pulling mabel up and being backlit by the stage lights as the reverend costume fluttered around him

billey's dramatic scene is him standing between stanford and the way down, looking beat-up and grinning maniacally regardless, the trees waving in the wind behind him

(wowie zowie the winds up there are strong aren't they? it'd be a shame if the kids fell off the roof!)

they go back and forth for a bit

billey, holding stanford over the edge of the roof for a moment: "sh! we don't wanna get in trouble~!"

billey, later on: "who would give up everything they've worked for just for their dumb sibling?"

ford, seeing a poster for the rock concert nearby, steeling himself: "…stanley would."

billey: "wHAT-?!"

stanford throws them both off the edge of the roof, and the laptop goes flying, shattered into a kghjillion pieces

stanford doesn't care anymore. all he has to do is keep bill occupied long enough for stanley and grunkle dipper to come back and fix things!

meanwhile, billey is starting to feel the aftereffects of hurting the body he's using so much

stanford: "fun fact about the human body! you look worse than that time i had to carry stanley home after running into crampelter, and i've been sitting in the library all day!"

grunkle dipper and plushie stanley manage to find them just as billey collapses, and stanley divebombs his body!

stanley: "yes! i'm back in my own body! and it's…just as tiny as i remembered."

("…ohhh, everything hurts.")

dipper Has Some Words with them about the whole "bill" situation, but is mostly just relieved they're alive and don't seem to be injured beyond bruises and scrapes

stanford mourns the loss of the laptop but lets dipper keep the pieces when he asks about it

(dipper will be repairing it.)

(either that or he finds the one who swapped with mcgucket (candy maybe? i don't know things) and has them fix it)

they eventually find bill's note in stanley's pocket when they go home so they panic and hug some more

they wind up not being able to go see the rock concert legally, but dipper sneaks them in just in time for the last song.

(dipper: "stanley you realize if you wanted to go to this concert you know you could've just asked right")

(stanley, thinking back on all the times his dad turned him down on things that wouldn't be immediately beneficial to his grades and therefore his future job prospects and therefore future money: "…OH REALLY")

[roguetatertot]

!SPOILER ALERT! At the end of FFVIIR when we see Zack walk with Cloud, Cloud is clearly still out of it.. However in the OG Cloud should have woken up around the time just after the battle by the cliff.... WHAT DOES IT MEAAAAAAAAN?!!?! Is my bb Cloud still gonna be comatose in the "alternative timeline" or whatever the heck is going on there?? My heart can't take it.

Hoo boy do I have theories about this, but to be honest, I can barely articulate them because of all these unknown variables and avenues things can go, also the plot holes I run into when expanding on the ideas.

My HOPE is that Cloud is still comatose and we get to see some D O M E S T I C Clack interactions, like Zack finding an apartment for them and caring for Cloud. ;u; Hopefully we’ll get to see a little bit of how Zack cared for Cloud on their journey, like Zack moving his limbs to keep things working, feeding him, wiping his face of food, watching over him as Cloud “slept.” Oh man, now I’m imagining Zack walking Cloud around the slums and sitting him down on a bench and kind of Weekend-at-Bernie’s-ing him about to A) keep Cloud as active as possible to prevent further atrophy; B) because at this point Zack is so used to hauling Cloud around that it just feels weird without him.

Then at this point I feel like Zack will run into Tifa down in the Sector 7 slums. He’ll begin doing mercenary work, while Tifa cares for Cloud (which runs along canon since she finds him slumped over at a train station and thus begins Cloud’s journey with her).

Zack will either be captured by someone (from Shinra or AVALANCHE), leaving behind his sword and not being around when Cloud finally comes back from being so mako-muddled. Maybe this Cloud doesn’t remember that Zack is alive. Maybe this Cloud believes that Zack is dead. Tifa might not want to divulge him in the truth because that could make things worse for Cloud’s memory; he needs to remember things on his own lest things get more confusing for him. This sets Cloud on the path of the canon game and things progress as normal up until a certain point when PLOT TWIST Zack is revealed in some way shape or form. One theory I have is that he is either the head of AVALANCHE or is involved in some way.

Zack being alive will undoubtedly alter Cloud’s role and character. This is the UNKNOWN JOURNEY that SE hints at end game. This is where I lose all semblance of articulation because all the possibilities bombard me and make it so that I cannot FOR THE LIFE OF ME put things down into words. 

One theory I have is that maybe Zack being alive is what truly did happen, but Cloud is so confused and remembers it wrong. Maybe Zack never did die, and Cloud in timeline A (canon) is just so screwed up that he perceived the bloodbath that was Zack’s stand against Shinra as being so horrific that there was no possible way Zack could have lived. Cloud could get the Buster Sword because Zack leaves it behind for him if he’s captured with my main theory above.

Another theory is that there are two or more planes of existence for these characters, which is how Aerith sensed Zack being alive at the very end. Perhaps Zack and Cloud in this other timeline are working together as a team and heading AVALANCHE. This Cloud will not be the same Cloud we know. He could be similar to his Crisis Core self since Zack is still alive. Sure, he has his trauma from being tortured by Hojo for four years, but perhaps this Cloud is friendlier, more relaxed and open. Maybe he smiles and laughs, and embraces the true dork that he is.

Maybe there are other Clouds in more timelines than we realize. In the original game after Cloud gets mako poisoning and is washed ashore in Mideel, there’s that scene with Tifa where she goes around Cloud’s subconscious, piecing his memories back together with various forms of himself. Perhaps something similar will occur, but Tifa will have to have all of the different Clouds from different timelines converge and have main game Cloud get to know all his other selves to help piece him together. Who knows, honestly.

But sadly, Zack and Aerith cannot outrun their fate. I have a feeling they both will die to set things back on the original timeline to finish out the installments. Maybe they won’t die in the same way as the original game, but they cannot exist for long. This opens up another can of worms of theories I have about the Whispers and Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie’s roles in the game. But honestly I can’t right now. I just can’t get into it without losing my mind.

[sometimesrosy]

You've said season 5 completed Bellamy's hero journey, so what do you think we'll see for him in season 6? I try to imagine where he's heading but what I see is always boring and static and I know that can't be true. Bellamy's character has always evolved so well, but my favorite arcs have always been him struggling with morality and now he seems so... balanced. What does he need to learn now?

That’s a hard question to answer because it’s about what the NEW story will be. What is Book 2? 

And they’ve given us very little. I didn’t figure out that they were doing hero’s journeys until season 3. But then I wasn’t looking for them, because I just thought it was a simple action adventure story, not a literary one. I FELT the symbolism and allusions and literary techniques, but I wasn’t looking to understand them, so they all stayed subconscious for me. 

I don’t think that Bellamy’s character will ever be static. He’s the main character other than Clarke. And I looked up The Hero’s Journey, from Joseph Campbell, just because whenever I’m unsure of things I google them, because I wanted to know what came after the hero’s journey, and it turns out, if you follow Bellamy’s hero’s journey, He did KINDA get to the end, but not quite. He returned with the elixir, but he did not get his reward, yet.

12. Return With The Elixir

This is the final stage of the Hero’s journey in which he returns home to his Ordinary World a changed man. He will have grown as a person, learned many things, faced many terrible dangers and even death but now looks forward to the start of a new life. His return may bring fresh hope to those he left behind, a direct solution to their problems or perhaps a new perspective for everyone to consider.The final reward that he obtains may be literal or metaphoric. It could be a cause for celebration, self-realization or an end to strife, but whatever it is it represents three things: change, success and proof of his journey. The return home also signals the need for resolution for the story’s other key players. The Hero’s doubters will be ostracized, his enemies punished and his allies rewarded. Ultimately the Hero will return to where he started but things will clearly never be the same again.

Now I don’t actually think JR is doing some new version of The Hero’s Journey. I think he’s using the classic, Joseph Campbell. He’s using OLD stories and combining them in different ways to make the new story not trying improve the old stories or be original. Just bringing the old stories into the new age. Which is really what I’m here for.

So where does Bellamy go from here? First, I think he’s going to get a name like Wanheda. I’ve been waiting for it since season 3, but it hasn’t come yet. And they made sure to mark Bellamy’s arrival in the bunker with almost RELIGIOUS imagery, with all wonkru watching him descend in the light to give them freedom. Add this to the MANY times that he has freed grounders, MW, COL, Farm Station, opening the bunker so they could get in, and now opening the bunker so they could get out? AND THEN he delivers the army to the ship and ALSO opens the door for the Eligius? I imagine his name will be something along the lines of Opener of Doors, Lightbringer, Redeemer or something. Lightbringer sounds good actually. 

But also, when the hero reaches the end of the hero’s journey, I think he starts all over again. Comes back to the beginning. Being a new world, that makes sense. And we know they are doing that circular story, so that makes sense. 

I think season 6 will take him back to season 1, but he’ll be more like the Clarke character, the one with the hope, who knows what is right. And Clarke will be like, midseason Bellamy (she’s gone through the selfish ass part in season 5) which will have them working together. IDK. I think his role is to help bring Clarke and the others with him. They won’t agree. Or maybe they will agree. IDK.

I think Bellamy might step back from his personal character development (no more self hate, no more doing it for my people, no more over protectiveness, no more trauma) and moving forward into being a leader, being a hero of everyone.

TBH Bellamy has had a very classic heroic role every single season. He is always heroic, saving lives, saving Clarke, saving the delinquents, while he’s dealing with his internal darkness. And I think we’ll see that again.

Okay, so what is the internal struggle he’ll have? I think it will be about love, tbh. They’ve set it up already. He’s in love with Clarke. AND Echo. But his loyalty to Echo has him sacrificing his soulmate love for Clarke in order to do the right thing. So he clearly hasn’t gotten over that self sacrificial thing. I think the SECOND part of Monty’s charge will be the hardest for him. Not being the good guy, he’s been working on that one for 5 years and is now the good guy. No. The other part. Live a good life. Be happy. Love. The heart part of the head, but a balanced, holistic heart this time.

Wait. Is it possible that Bellamy’s personal journey is NOT about trauma, but about learning to love himself enough to allow himself to be with the woman he loves? 

That will be an ENTIRELY different feel than book 1. But if we’re talking about post apocalyptic stories, that means that we’re tipping over from tragedy into comedy (classic comedy not ha ha comedy,) with a lighter, happier, less tragic story…. ooooohh. Could it be? 

Does that mean that Bellamy’s struggle is no longer about a negative, TRYING NOT TO DIE (aka survival) and is now TRYING TO LIVE FOR SOMETHING. 

Wells Jaha:Your life can be more than just impossible decisions and a tragic end. You can choose to live.

Ha. They put it in the beginning of the show. The endgame goal, if they ever got to the endgame, was to make life worth living, make humanity deserving of survival. To Love. Wait. Did they wait to give Bellamy a decent romance because his romance with Clarke was going to be part of his character development and THE MAIN PLOT? Are we getting a romance genre story next season? His heart will enable Clarke to fight for a world WORTH fighting for. Book 2.

holy shit.

[dikanamai]

—Rosa Rivera, in the Land of the Dead <3

I'm not very fond of AUs, but there's a kind of fic in the Coco fandom that I really like a lot: retellings of the movie with a little divergence or some sort of role reversal/role switch.

Some of the fics I've read and enjoyed the most over these months are like this. Like Elegy, my very favorite, in which Imelda is the one who gets cursed in 1942, after Ernesto's death, and visit the Land of the Dead to find out the truth (Elegy isn't a retelling of the movie, but follows a similar plot). Or Shaken by How Long it Took, an actual retelling of Coco, but with an important canon-divergence: Miguel found the wedding photo of Héctor and Imelda years ago (with Ernesto as padrino) and he knows since the beginning Héctor is his great-great-grandpa. This fic is sooo sweet and heartwarming, because both Héctor and Miguel develop a beautiful relationship. Fluff and family bonding.

Other examples are The search for the Female Mariachi, with a role switch between Héctor and Imelda (so she was the one who left and the one who guides Miguel in the Land of the Dead). Or Miguel, a fic with a complex multi role swaps (still on-going). And I'm sure there are more that I've missed.

The last one I've read is Rosa's Journey, a fic that FINALLY follows a plot I was eager to find: Rosa's the one who goes to the Land of the Dead, instead of Miguel. I've been thinking about it a lot. How would've Coco been if the main character was Rosa? I got very excited with Rosa's Journey, though the role switch isn't just between Miguel and Rosa, but between Héctor and Imelda as well (she's the one who left, again). There's a completely new villain, too: Ernesto doesn't exists and Imelda's colleague is a woman named Earlina de Paula. I've loved this fic and, to be honest, it's been a pleasure to read a Coco retelling with female characters in all the main roles (except for Héctor, obviously).

But this last fic let me thinking… what about a Coco retelling in which the only difference is who goes to the Land of the Dead? I mean, what about a Coco retelling in which Rosa goes to the Land of the Dead, but there's no actual role switch? Miguel is the one who wanna be a musician, he's the one who runs away, he's the one who's about to steal de la Cruz's guitar… but then, Rosa follows him, catches him in the cemetery and almost by mistake gets cursed by picking the guitar for Miguel. How many things would've changed then?

The idea got stronger and stronger, because it's a kind of story I would love to read. Rosa loves music too, but she loves and admires her family. She despises her great-great-grandpa for being a jerk. She doesn't idolize de la Cruz. She's sassy, funny, smart, sharp. So what kind of relationship would she develop with Héctor, who's salty, sarcastic, has no more fucks to give and also despises de la Cruz? I mean… wouldn't they be the perfect duo?! I've realized the relationship between Héctor and Miguel in the movie is kind of tense most of the time, because the kid adores Ernesto and Héctor doesn't want to disappoint him but knows the true face of that fucker. But if the kid had been a bit warier about Ernesto, their bond could've been very different. And, let’s be honest: taking care of Rosa would remind Héctor of Coco ALL THE TIME.

So I couldn't help but start writing my own retelling, because I couldn't stop thinking about it. In this story, Rosa lives the adventure that was meant for her cousin. The motivations and relationships between characters are very different. She meets a family she loves, she finds herself forced to look for a great-great-grandpa she despises and joins a trickster who has a lot in common with her. And it's being a joy. I'm writing it in a row (7 chapters by now, I'm in the battle of the bands) and I'd love to post it when I finish. But I wanted to share a little bit, because I'm enjoying it very much. So, if you're interest, here's a sneak peek of chapter 4, when Rosa and Héctor meet each other :D

Before reading: please, remember English is not my mother tongue and this is actually the first time in my life I write fiction directly in English (instead of translating something previously written in Spanish). Though I've been a writer for 20 years now, I'm not good at English. This is the first draft and it hasn't been revised. I have no beta readers, either. So any kind of tip, feedback or whatever would be very appreciate. Enjoy! :)

(...)

She thought she had lost him in the crowd, but spotted him again very quickly. It wouldn’t be possible to get too far with that limp, though he strode across the gallery with firm determination. He was crumpling the officer's warning and throwing it aside.

"Hey! Hey!" Rosa sprinted to him. "You, err… ¡señor! Do you really know de la Cruz?"

The man huffed loudly and began to turn. "Yeah, who wants to—" Then he saw her and shrieked so stridently it seemed to echo around the whole hall. "Y-YOU'RE ALIVE!"

Forget the curse: she was going to die tonight by a heart attack. Blind by the panic rush, she grabbed the man by the suspenders and pulled him rudely into a near phone booth to get out of sight. He pressed himself against the farthest corner, still as scared as if he'd just found himself trapped there with a chupacabras instead of a girl. He seemed about to start screaming again and she was going to throw up, seriously, she was going to.

"Stop yelling, por Dios!" she demanded frantically. "Sí, I'm alive! And just in case you haven't notice, I shouldn't be here right now! I'm in a big trouble and need de la Cruz's blessing to go back home in the Land of the Living!"

"You need— You just— Wait, what?" He was babbling, but then frowned. "Wait there, that's weirdly specific…"

Rosa grunted in frustration, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. Okay, this needed a direct approach. "He's my… great-great-grandfather."

"He's your WHAT?!"

"STOP YELLING!" She shook him, so on edge she didn't even notice she was shouting herself. "I need his blessing now, okay? A family blessing! I just wanna know if you can help me or not!"

"Okay, okay, okay, wait." He waved a hand to shush her and looked aside, a deeper frown shadowing his face as he focused on his thoughts. Some very complex thoughts, it seemed. "Wait, wait, waitwaitwait…" He started tapping on his chin, as if trying to figure something out, and Rosa started tapping her foot impatiently.

"Look, I don't have much time."

"It can't… but what if…"

"Could you just answer my question, ple—?"

"Yes. Yes!" He brightened up and flashed a wide smile at her. "Yes, you're going back to the Land of the Living!"

"No, I'm not, if we spent the whole night here!" Rosa put her hands on her hips, but then noticed his wild expression and grimaced. This guy's mind seemed to be racing even faster than her own, no brakes. Perhaps he had already lost it in full. "Aaand now it's when I start regretting all of this…"

"Nononono, listen up, niña!" He bent down a little, snapping his fingers under her nose. "I can help you, but you can help me too! I can help you, you can help me, we can help each other, but most importantly, you can help me!"

"Whoa…" Rosa couldn't but stare at him, raising an eyebrow. "And I thought I was desperate…"

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, his shoulders drooping. "Oh, you've noticed? How sharp!" Okay, that sounded far too salty. "Desperate is my second name, chamaca, nice to meet you."

"That's not very comforting…"

"Hey, hey, hey, look at the bright side! Since I'm desperate to cross over, I'm also desperate to get you to go home! Take it as a guarantee of my honesty, I'll help you!"

She narrowed her eyes, too. The guy was really something, but he didn't seem dangerous, despite his ragged appearance. Rosa was used to identify and avoid creepy men; they all had some kind of energy around them that gave her bad vibes just by being close. But this one just looked like… Miguel. A taller, older Miguel, as harmless as her cousin. She knew she couldn't trust a stranger and she would keep her eyes open, but maybe this could actually work. She glanced at Dante, checking for approval, and the dog was so calm she relaxed a bit.

"Okay then, don Despair." She shot him a smug gaze. "And what's your first one?"

"Héctor." He smiled and offered her his hand.

"I'm Rosa." She shook it and kept the grip to pull him out the booth. "And we're going right now, because I'm chased."

"That's new." She could hear his frown even without looking at him. "Chased by whom?"

But there was no time for explanations. Rosa had just put her feet in the hall, when a well-known female voice called out her name from the distance. She finally spotted her family far away, rushing down the staircase of the upper platform. And the punch of stress and dread hit her hard again, making her heart jump and her stomach twist.

"¡Ay, Dios! Come on, come on, COME ON!!"

She pushed Héctor to the exit, ignoring his complaints, and the three of them bolted to the street. They zipped through the revolving doors so fast that several skeletons broke apart as they slammed against the glass. But she couldn't stop now. Rosa leaped down the steps of the stairway in pairs, with the clack, clack, clack of Héctor's footsteps tripping at her side. Dante passed them by and threw himself into the crowd that filled the place, disappearing between legs and skirts. Too many people, too many. Rosa collided with some passersby who yelled at her, and she babbled apologies and turned around again and again, increasingly disoriented and scared, surrounded by unknown skeletal faces and too bright colors. She was already panting frantically.

"Dante!" she cried out in distress.

"Don't get lost, chamaca!" And suddenly Héctor was at her side, one hand keeping his hat on his head and the other one gripping her wrist to drag her across the plaza. "Over there!"

Rosa had only two seconds to peek over her shoulder one last time, to the Station. She couldn't see her family anywhere. If something went wrong, how…?

Dios, what I am doing?

They rushed together down more stairs and loped off through a few side streets, in that never-ending getaway. At last, they reached an empty, arched alley, far darker and quieter. He finally let go of her hand there, puffing.

"Whoa, that felt like a breakout. You're chased by the authorities, by any chance?" He gave her a questioning look. "Not that I mind, you know, and I know better than to ask unpleasant questions, but this is—" He trailed off when he saw her face and his little smile faded. "Oye, oye, ¿chamaca?"

Rosa wasn't listening. With her back against the alley's wall, she fought to catch her breath, shaking. This was madness. What a mess. Her heart seemed to be fiercely beating in her throat, and she could still see Mamá Imelda's eyes on her with that furious frown. Oh, Dios, she had just run away from Mamá Imelda! From Mamá Imelda! Had she lost her mind? She gaped in horror and cupped her own face, panic bubbling inside her chest once more.

"Hey, chamaca!" Héctor was snapping his fingers again to wake her up. "You okay?"

Her last bit of self-control cracked. "Do I look like I'm okay?!" Rosa shouted in a high-pitched voice, hyperventilating now. "I'm frigging cursed and I'm in the frigging Land of the Dead and I have to find a frigging celebrity before sunrise or I'll be frigging dead and— Oh, Dios, I can see my finger bones already, I CAN SEE MY FRIGGING FINGER BONES!!"

"Rosa!" Héctor grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. "Calm down! No yelling, remember? Stop the 'frigging' thing. It's okay, you're gonna be okay. You looked so clear-headed a moment ago it was almost a bit scary, you know. I'm sure you can handle this. You have a plan, right? Just focus."

He talked as if she wasn't right before him in a full panic and he knew her since forever, both things untrue. But his voice was soothing and sounded very reasonable. It reminded her of Tía Victoria and the way she had calmed her down in the cemetery an… hour ago? Two? It seemed like a lifetime. You're a very sensible little woman with a lot of common sense inside that head… Would Tía Vico still think that way? She didn't think so. Rosa groaned and buried her face in her fists. Breathe in, breathe out. Dante pressed himself against her leg and nuzzled her thigh, whining. His warm was comforting, and her pulse began to steady. Yeah, panic wouldn't help her to go back home. She had to focus. She had made a decision and she had to think how many things were at stake. She had to keep cold-head and make this work, whatever it costed.

She had to get de la Cruz's blessing.

"Sí," she whispered finally, and then she straightened up and looked Héctor in the eye. "Sí, I have a plan."

"Great!" He smiled reassuringly. "We'll make it, chamaca. Don't worry, sí?"

Rosa nodded and swallowed. "Gracias. Sorry, I just…" She tried to elaborate, but gave up with a grunt. "That… pinche Miguel!"

"Miguel?"

"Mi primo." Rosa took off her glasses and pressed a palm over her eyes for a moment, praying for her headache to give her a break. "He was about to do a very stupid thing and I tried to stop him. Then I did a very stupid thing and got myself stuck in here. Everything's been a roller coaster since then, I feel as if running for hours. But enough of that. How do we get to de la Cruz?"

"Hey, hey, slow down!" Héctor looked suspiciously hesitant. "First of all, we should do something about all that… that…" He waved towards her, from head to toe. "All that flesh of you. We won't get far if you don't blend in, you need a disguise. Got any makeup or face paint? Something we can use?"

Rosa rushed to unzip her pockets and sighted in relief when she found her little brothers' face paint still there. She only had white and black, and the old red lipstick of Tía Gloria, but that was enough. Héctor gave her a nod of approval and led her up the alley, till they found some crates and took a seat. Dante sat by their side and watched them closely, so incredibly happy again. The dog had relaxed after fleeing the Station and seemed very at ease around the stranger. Rosa took it as a good sign. Even if Héctor was a trickster, he had made a point before: his priority was crossing over the bridge, that much was obvious, so it was unlikely he could mean any harm. There was no point in hurting the only person who could help you.

"Hold still, hold still," Héctor murmured, so focused on her makeup that Rosa straightened up and held her pose. The quietness was very welcome after all the stress, she didn't mind the pause at all. But it was also pretty surreal to be sitting there, with a skeleton painting her face just as Tía Gloria would've done if she hadn't ended in that crazy place.

Perhaps she had just knocked herself out by falling from de la Cruz's sepulcro and was hallucinating the entire thing.

She really hoped so.

A few minutes later, Héctor finally looked satisfied. "Ta-da! The perfect calaverita!" He took a small mirror out of his pocket and held it in front of her. Rosa put on her glasses again and whistled in disbelief, actually impressed. It was a regular calavera makeup, but he'd got creative with the lipstick and had drawn beautiful patterns in her cheeks and around her brows. "Wait, no hood?" he added, peeking over her shoulder to the jacket's back.

"Err… no."

Héctor sighed dramatically. "Ay, okay, your hair. Let it down, we must hide those ears."

Rosa obeyed and he quickly parted her hair in two halves for a twin braids hairdo. He worked so fast, so I-know-perfectly-what-I'm-doing, that she couldn't help whistling again. "You know, you look pretty skilled at braiding," she scoffed.

Héctor chuckled, though his smile seemed a little bittersweet. "I used to make a lot of braids, a long, long time ago. Got any other—?" Rosa held up a second rubber band before he asked for it. "Girls, always ready."

"I must, with this hair."

"This hair's gonna save your day, chamaca." He arranged the braids to cover her ears and put back her diadem as if crowning her. "Okay, ya está. That diadema will keep them in place. Collar up! Perfect, I think we're done. Just…" He looked thoughtfully at her legs. "We should get a skirt. Long to the ankles."

"Oye, how old are you?" Rosa complained, and put her hands on her hips again in annoyance. "Now you talk like my abuela!"

"If Ernesto is actually you're great-great-grandpa, I assure you I'm old enough to be your great-great-grandpa too." Héctor pouted and crossed his arms. "But the point is we can't paint your fleshy legs. Can you unfold that hem?"

Grumbling under her breath, Rosa tried to pull the cuffed hem of her capri jeans as down as she could. It was disturbing to see the curse creeping up her legs, her feet fully skeletal by then like ominous ankle socks.

"Okay, now listen to me, Rosa: this world is not much different from your own, so here are the golden rules." Héctor lifted three fingers. "Stay close, don't get lost and never follow any weird guy to any weird place."

She shot him a dry glare. "You serious?" she blurted out. "I'm in a really weird place with a really weird guy right now!"

"This doesn't count!" He waved a hand dismissively. "We have a deal! And I would never harm a fly, far less a little girl or any other human being."

"Right the kind of thing a weird guy would say." Rosa rolled her eyes. "Look, I can take care of myself, don't worry about that."

"Oh? And how you—?"

He couldn't finish. As fast as light, she took off one of her flats and swatted him hard in the cheekbone. So hard that his skull spun around. Héctor shirked and grabbed his head to stop it, looking at her with wide, dumbfounded eyes.

"You'll never see me coming." Rosa gave him a smug smile and a sassy shrug, before putting her flat on.

"That…" He was speechless. "That felt familiar…"

"Did it?" She raised an eyebrow. "How many women have hit you with their shoes?"

"Just one, but she hit hard enough to be unforgettable." For a tiny moment, he seemed about to smile fondly, but covered it with a cough. "Okay, okay, I trust you, so back to business! There's something important you must understand, Rosa. This place runs on memories. If you're well remembered, people put up your photo and you get to cross the bridge and visit the living on Día de Muertos." He put a hand on his chest with a tense smile. "As you've probably notice by now, that's not my case."

"You've never crossed over?" She frowned, getting serious.

"No one's ever put up my picture. But you can change that!" He took an old photo out from his inner pocket and handed it to her. It was black and white, with a young living Héctor who looked a very little older than her own big brother. His eyes were big and bright, and his smile seemed to cross his whole sharp-angled face. She scanned it intently, feeling that something was off but not getting what. Dios, how old actually was that guy? How old was he when he died?

"So… this is you."

"Muy guapo, eh?" he joked, waving his brows.

Rosa snorted. "So you want me to put up your photo on my family's ofrenda when I get home… in exchange of getting me to my great-great-grandpa."

"Well, yeah, about that…" Oh, no, that suspicious hesitation again. "Actually, de la Cruz is a tough guy to get to, and I need to cross that bridge soon. Like tonight. So, you got any other family here? You know, someone a bit more… ehh, accessible?"

Rosa stared at him, poker-faced. She couldn't think about her family without fretting again, but she couldn't afford another panic attack either. Héctor was really desperate; if he found out she'd just run away from her relatives, they would never make their way to de la Cruz. He could even try to take her back to the Station right away. So she hardened her look and narrowed her eyes, in what she hoped to look like an 'are-you-frigging-kidding-me' expression.

"What part of  'I need de la Cruz's blessing' you didn't get?" she hissed, trying her best to look offended. "Did you really think I'd be here if I had another option? It's de la Cruz's or nothing!" Rolling her eyes with a lot of drama, she huffed and pushed the photo against Héctor's chest. "I should've guessed you only wanted to get rid of me as soon as possible. Well then, don Despair! I won't bother you anymore, good luck with your bridge. Let's go, Dante!"

She stood up and strode away.

"Wha— Waitwaitwait!" Rosa was already half way to the alley's entry. "Argh! Okay, okay, niña, fine! Fine! I'll get you to your great-great-grandpa!"

Rosa stopped and waited while Héctor trotted towards her, limping. When he reached her, she flashed him a bright smile.

"Lead the way, guapo," she teased.

Héctor pouted again. "You're pretty terrible, you know that?"

And this time, she felt extremely proud.

[norton-addiction]

About the play “Bug”, review of the Russian spectator

Original language of the text is Russian. Translation to English made by fan community “Norton-addiction”.

In this article you can read about the play “Bug” starring James Norton which took place in a tiny event hall Found111. 

James Norton and Kate Fleetwood, Bug performance

London, April 22, evening

Complete lack of sense of direction and total absence of the Internet (sure, addiction to it becomes critical) made me exit on Charing Cross station of any reason. The theater (pretty tiny studio) was located on Charing Cross street, abut the street is extremely expanded. When I realized how short time I had and how long would be my way no matter how – on foot or by the underground – I caught a cab, again. And I was in time (in 20 minutes before start) even though I hardly raced past an unnoticeable door at full steam.

I've never been in such a little theater in London. First, you should do a long climb upstairs to a theater bar. When you finally say to yourself “huh, now I can lead forward to the main hall” (there was an encouraging poster on the wall, something like “Nearly here!” on it) but you find out that you should walk up another couple of stairwells. And only after all of that stairs you get into the “Hall”. In quotes because it is a itty-bitty room with a low ceiling and tightly set mismatching chairs and benches round about the “platform”. It's very suitable for fans but not for those who want to get a perfect vision of a performance, so you'd better take your place as far as possible from the platform.

However suddenly I found myself too close to the platform. I stumbled into the bar and ordered a glass of wine at once, then found a place for myself near the broken grand piano and put a rose on it (yes, as you could remember, I wandered around the town with the rose all the time). The whole picture could be seen in a rather off-hand way but I didn't care a curse and set down to get dry. Faster than a flash in the pan a huge crowd of Norton's fans got into and made a thick checkout line in the enter of the hall. Those fans were pleasant but unshakeable english lineups always scare me: it is a perfect monumental formation which leaves no chance to anybody to bore way through the crowd.

For some unfathomable reason I found myself in the hall on the second row - smack up against the bedside table with plates and dishes, bottles and radio on it. This extemporary bar and space near it as it turned out was recruited into the performance. So I, with my rose, felt out of place there. Someone from the crowd catched sight of the rose even joked on me during the intermission: “Oh, lady did fundamental preparation!” I must have dumped Norton with NOT presenting him the rose. Sorry, James, the rose left for Moscow with me, after travel to Stratford and back. And no, I did not wait for James, who, by hearsay, simply hanging around the bar. Sorry, no photos of the prince's autograph there.

The performance

Do you know the feeling when you need some time to grow into the book, movie or show, but it seems a little bit strange and tough in the beginning? This little hall intensified such emotions in me. I even needed to make an effort to overcome the conventionality and get lost in the story. It gets on you nerves when actors over and over again runs up to your bedside table (every item in the 5 cm distance is automatically included in my private space) and then they do something with it. It would be a different matter when it was women (Kate Fleetwood was awesome!) but when beautiful, bare-chested James Norton runs up again and again too close to you... God bless me I'm not a real fan of him))

It is a very strong play established under all principles of good thriller with creepy, growing in pressure suspense and increasing degree of absurd which seems in common with McDonagh's plays (or maybe even Shakespeare's). In the tensest moments comic relief happens to be, and spectators nervously giggle and can't stand laughing in contradiction to puzzleheaded mess in front of them. And could it be that all good plays (plots, books, pictures and movies, and whatever) should have such a mad combination of humor and horror, as... as it appears in the real life?

Similar to McDonagh, it's difficult to review this performance without spoilers. In fact, even trying to translate ambiguous title will be a spoiler (so, our local content “Glitches” fits more or less). So if you haven't read the play or watched the American movie (pretty trashy, IMHO) yet, please, read the following text at your own risk.

With all James Norton's strong points and the key-role of his character, there is a woman in the center of the story. It's great because of the deep dipping into atmosphere of contemplation of the vulnerable paranoiac mind. All this vulnerability due to the desperate lust for love, and it makes all things more dreadful.

Entirely young woman, with marks of the stormy past and everydayness on her face, lives on borrowed time in abandoned motel. The bed, the “bar” (that same old bedside table closer to me), the kitchen, the radio and strategic reserves of all-type relaxants – that's all she needs. In the parlance of medicine, the girl is in state of chronic depression, but, of course, she doesn't know about it. She has unlucky marriage with domestic violence and lost son in her past, and now and there she has only a bottle, a cigarette, a bong, a line of cocaine, a single randy female friend, loneliness and fear.

All the facts which I've shoot out in the previous sentences, brings to the audience slowly and ropy like sticky flypaper. The ceiling will be all covered with such papers in the end of the narration. And for now... now the phone is ringing. Nobody answers on the other end of the line whatever and no matter how frightened Agnes shout into the phone handset. She thoughts she talks with her ex-husband. Speaking of, we won't know who was calling all that times.

And here, in all that very... unfortunately, common little world, Peter (Norton) appears. He is absurdly nice, prudish duffer. Many funny situations based on his clumsiness. He is literally disarmingly plainspoken guy: it's hard to resist such words as “I like you” told in the face (and lately “I could make love with you” - oh, who can resist it). So Agnes can not. And there they already crawls together on the flour in search for the invisible bugs (the first alarm signal was when “the bug” turned out to be a broken fire-safe). So there the mysterious stranger modestly stays overnight on the flour, which causes wave of adoration in the audience. And then, in the morning, he disappears. Instead of Peter Agnes meets her husband Jerry in the bathroom. The dreadful plot starts to spin around in thick and fast tempo.

Jerry. It was a hilariously funny scene of his second entrance which ends pretty scary as every scene in the play.

Peter lures Agnes into the mounting paranoia which begins from very innocent and funny searching for invisible bugs (“bug” as in the main title) in the bed after sex-scene, and then materializes into complete terrifying conspiracy theory in the end. The point is that by this time all that schizoid but consistent delirium is said by Agnes not Peter. Spiritual affinity and human warmth with at least someone near her are more important then real world for Agnes (“I'd better talk to you about bugs than stay silence alone by myself”).

It's painful to watch towards the end of the performance (and that's the difference between this play and McDonagh's ones) because the consistent delirium takes place in full of your view. It is unavoidable and unstoppable like a upcoming trucker. There is nothing left to help characters. McDonagh always leaves some penetrative tiny flash of hope, humanistic points in his works always sounds in high tone upon the most frightening low pitch. On the contrary, Tracy Letts drops to an all-time low of loathsome naturalism. Every more or less empathic person literally wants to close his eyes when after several attempts Peter in highly authentic manner takes out a tooth with pliers by himself (cause the capsule with bugs is hidden in it).

Norton in the dressing room. There are more and more "bites" of non-existing bugs toward the end until the whole body comes to an open wound.

One more difference from McDonagh's – Tracy hasn't such virtuosity ability to write when important sense appears ABOVE text absurd. He makes a request on global topics: Peter is not only unblest paranoid, he is a veteran of Gulf War. Reasonably it should add more tragic in the story, should make watchers thought over (and in one moment you are really think: “For God's sake, maybe he is right with all of his microscopes and rage assurance what he sees things that other people can't”. But Tracy fails in clearing this height as distinct from McDonagh and his The Pillowman and Hangmen.

Speaking through thoughts face to face – that's not how good text works (“There was a time when people though the safety exists, but not now. Today nobody can feel safe”).

Nevertheless the actors were brilliant and took everything they could from the play. They perfectly hold out a hysterical rising pitch with the help of great light and sound work. And once again... God damn, why have I set on the second row! I could see Norton's play only when he was in the other side of the platform; just he appeared near the bedside table, there was only his... waist in my eyesight))) Or I was in need to crane my neck but in this case it looked like I was starring at him face to face, and that was... spooky.

The murder happens in all-сovered in foil paper room. The expected end takes place – main heroes suicide with “I love you” phrase on their lips. But there is no catharsis, only relief that you can finally run out from this self-absorbed world of despair, loneliness and – bugs.

 * * *

... And the more beautiful contrast was on the curtain call when stage staff put bathrobes on half-naked and wet head-to-toe Kate and James, and they “came” on bend (they didn't went away in fact). I swear I've never seen such look of pleasure on the actor's face during the bend, never! Norton truly beaming, he squinted, and even my cheeks tired from toothy smile. It seems if he had a tail that tail would fawn upon in the fullness of his happiness. Kate was smiling too, but it was a sheepish smile, while James... oh, he has such a great charisma I know what his fans feels like!

 This photo provides guidance on what they look like during curtain calls.

And one for the road: lunch break on the roof of Found111 — so cute))

For finding photos thanks goes to blog: norton-addiction.tumblr.com

The End.

Original text in Russian: http://www.dtbooks.net/2016/04/shakespearlives_28.html

[vishnuvenugopal]

This is...woah

Present: And then I woke up and I was...here?

Future: Ohhhh so that's why you're so confused.

Present: Yeah! Cuz I mean as much as the whole come lay on my couch and answer my questions thing is cliched, it's actually kind of nice, but also really fucking confusing. Like I have no idea how i got here.

Future: Well, what if you're still dreaming?

Present: Like a dream within a dream? Like Inception?

Future: Kind of. But like this is the intermediary space. Like how Dumbledore meets Harry in King's Cross when Voldemort kills him in the woods?

Present: So I have to decide whether I want to keep sleeping and stay here or I wake up and leave?

Future: I guess? I don't really know, the rules are kind of up to you.

Present: Just like Dumbledore told Harry.

Future: Yup. Basically.

Present: So am I Harry Potter then? Am I like the boy who lived? Is there something I'm supposed to do?

Future: Hold on, lemme check...nope, no lightning bolt scar. Hmm...I dunno, what do you think you're supposed to do?

Present: Um....I mean I've always wanted to tell stories? And I've slowly kind of been realizing that that's what's going to make change for me? Like if I tell stories, if I tell people's stories with them, then maybe I can help to change the way we all perceive one another. And then maybe we can stop killing ourselves and our world and make things better by working together.

Future: Like in Arthur!

Present: (beat) Like the theme song?

Future: Yeah of course. C'mon man.

Present: My bad.

Future: It's all good. But ok, then that's what you're supposed to do. That's your Harry Potter-King's Cross Station-Realization. You've gotta tell stories. So what stories do you want to tell?

Present: Well, I always thought that seeing more people like me on TV would change the way I had grown up. Cuz most everyone I saw who looked like me was kind of othered in some way. Or we just were there for a splash of color while everything else happened, or we just worked as a plot device. That's basically how all POC were in media.

Future: Were?

Present: I mean Black Panther flipped it and the white people were the plot devices.

Future: Well what about Bend it Like Beckham? Or Kal Penn on How I Met Your Mother?

Present: Bend it Like Beckham is a classic. But we don't get those very often. And Kal Penn got famous making movies about him and John Cho smoking weed. I feel like he gets a pass now.

Future: A pass?

Present: Like he gets to do whatever he wants because now brown people are like oh, ok, I guess you do that.

Future: Do you think brown people fuck with him?

Present: Depends on the demo? Like I think young brown people do, but older brown people? They probably hate on him on principle cuz they think weed is bad.

Future: Cuz weed's a drug, and drugs are bad so Kal Penn = weed = bad.

Present: Yeah. Basically.

Future: So who you tryna be then? Do you wanna be Kal Penn or the girl from Bend it Like Beckham?

Present: Do I have to be one of them?

Future: I mean you've got lots of options. Have you seen how much stuff gets made in India? You wanna go somewhere you can be like white people, you should go there.

Present: What?

Future: Well in India, everyone's mostly brown, right? So all the movies are mostly brown people, right?

Present: I mean, I guess. I haven't really watched a ton of Indian movies or TV.

Future: Me neither. Maybe that's not the best thing for us to talk about.

Present: Yeah...but ok, Why can't I just be me?

Future: I don't know. Can you just be you? Do you know who you are?

Present: I don't know. I'm figuring it out though. Every day I get a little closer to it I think, but also farther away because we're all always changing you know?

Future: So maybe you want to write stories about that.

Present: About how we're always changing?

Future: Yeah. I mean we're always becoming who we are right? There's like this inevitable unending process of becoming that we are constantly undergoing as human beings.

Present: Maybe we should be human becomings. Why aren't we human becomings?

Future: Because that doesn't roll off the tongue the same way - I don't know. What I'm trying to say though is that everywhere we go, everyone we meet, they impact who we are. It might be a tiny little microimpact or it might be something hugely monumental that echoes throughout the rest of our lives, but it does change us - those experiences in those places with those people help to make us who we are. So maybe talk about that.

Present: Ok but where do I start?

Future: Where do end?

Present: What do you mean?

Future: The beginning and the end are irrelevant.

Present looks at future confused.

Future: Look, the important thing is that the stories get told. Don't get lost in the minutia of when something happened in relation to something else, in the end you can just use time as a plot device too. Kind of like you're doing now.

Present: What? What do you mean kind of like you're doing right now?

Future: You and I aren't really here. You and I are having a conversation in a dream that you've needed to have with yourself for a long time. So now that you're having this conversation, you've gotta just go out and do it. Go tell the stories you want to tell. And don't let anyone stop you.

Present: But what about -

Future: Dad and Mom will get it. It'll take a long time, but they will. How else you think I have this beard and haircut?

Present: Wait so you're really me in the future?

Future: Yeah you could say that, I'm one possibility.

Present: On possibility? What about the others?

Future: I dunno, you'll have to keep moving down the path of your life to see how we turn out.

Present: This is -

Future: Oh - looks like I gotta go. I'm around though. And you're gonna be fine. Don't worry. Cheers mate!

Present wakes up in bed

Present: Woah..