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catie-does-things · 4 years ago

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Patterns in Given Names in the World of Avatar

Or, Naming Your Avatar OC’s: Beyond Baby Name Lists

Naming an original character in any fantasy setting can be a tricky business. Do you use a real name? Do you make one up? Either way, it has to sound like it fits into the established world - but you don’t want it to sound too similar to the names of canon characters, either. In this post, I will offer an analysis of canon names of major and minor characters in Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra, looking for discernible patterns in the names of each of the fictional cultures of that world, and offer some suggestions based on my own experience for how to choose or create names for original characters in that world.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with using a “baby name list” for inspiration or even taking a real name from one of the cultures the show is based on and using it. But since the fictional cultures of the show are not complete carbon copies of real cultures, just picking a name from a list of Inuit or Japanese names won’t always give you one that actually fits in with the Avatar world. And maybe you’ve seen enough Water Tribe OC’s named Nanook (I’m guilty of this one myself) and want to get a little more creative. In that case, welcome to the advanced OC naming class.

And yes, there will be color coded spreadsheets.

Methods and Goals

To get a feel for what sort of names will sound like they fit into the world of Avatar, we of course have to look at the names of canon characters. For our purposes, I chose to exclude characters who only appear in spin-off material such as the comics or Kyoshi novels, and only look at the given names of characters from the two shows, Avatar: The Last Airbender and The Legend of Korra. I have sorted the characters by nation, as well as into cultural subdivisions where applicable. LoK characters from the United Republic of Nations have their own category, since in most cases we do not technically know the specific cultural origin of those characters’ names - though based on the patterns below and other context clues, we can make a reasonable guess for many of them. Characters whose names appear to be nicknames or pseudonyms (such as Longshot and Lightning Bolt Zolt) have also been left out.

The aim of this analysis is to look for phonetic and other patterns in the names of each cultural group within the world of Avatar. We will be looking at the names as spelled using the Latin alphabet, since this is how most fan fiction is written, and how the character names are given in official material, but keep in mind that within the world of the show, all nations use the Han Chinese writing system, so names or syllables spelled differently in the Latin alphabet might be represented by the same character in-universe, or vice versa.

Finally, my guidelines and suggestions for how to choose or create OC names are just that: guidelines and suggestions. These are not rules. It’s your OC, you do what you want.

Without further ado, let’s start looking at some names.

The Water Tribes.

We don’t have quite the sample size for Water Tribe characters that we’ll see for some of the other nations, but 28 names is still plenty to look at. Notably, we have far more male (18) than female (10) names, a pattern we will see repeated without exception. Draw your own conclusions.

Water Tribe names appear to mostly be two or three syllables long, with most of the one syllable names being from the Foggy Swamp Tribe. Hahn from the Northern Water Tribe is the only other one syllable name. Two syllable names are the most common with 19 names, which is about two-thirds of the total. Three syllable names account for 5 out of the total 28, or less than one fifth - still, this makes them more common than names of the same length in any other nation, and more common than one syllable names in the Water Tribes, especially if you exclude the Foggy Swamp. If you’re looking to use an authentic Inuit or other Arctic indigenous name for your Water Tribe OC, I would be wary of names longer than three syllables, though, as we have none of these in canon.

Consistent with Inuit names, we do have a lot of /k/ and /g/ sounds. The letters K and Q are pronounced the same in Water Tribe names, though in Inuit they represent different sounds. 18 out of the 28 names have at least one of these sounds, with /k/ being far more common than /g/ (17 vs. 2 names). Of course, having the letter K in your Water Tribe OC’s name is by no means necessary, and especially if you are creating a lot of Water Tribe characters, you probably want some variation.

The digraphic consonant sounds /ch/, /sh/, and /th/ are almost totally absent, with the exception of one name from the Foggy Swamp, Tho. The /r/ sound is also never found at the beginning of a name, and the /j/, /l/, /w/, and /f/ sounds are totally absent. The /v/ sound is absent from all given names, but notably appears in the surname Varrick not included above.

Regarding gender differences, both male and female names can end in -a, but this is much more common for female names, with 3 male names compared to 8 female names having this ending. Notably, this accounts for all but two of the female names, and all of the female names end in a vowel. Consonant endings appear to be exclusively masculine, with final /k/ sounds being common, whether spelled with K or Q (8 out of 18 male names), though masculine names can also end in vowel sounds.

There do not appear to be major differences between the Northern and Southern Water Tribe names, however the three names we have from the Foggy Swamp Tribe are definitely distinct - all one syllable, and all open syllables ending in vowels. These sound more like Earth Kingdom names, as we’ll see, which makes sense given the location of the Foggy Swamp.

To my knowledge, only handful of the Water Tribe names are authentic Inuit names, and they are all characters from LoK: Desna, Yakone, Noatak, Unalaq, and Tonraq, or 5 out of the 28 total names. Yue is an authentic name, but a Chinese one. The main Water Tribe characters such as Katara, Sokka, and Korra all have invented names. So yes, you can pick from an Inuit baby names list (and Nanook does fit the patterns we see above), but you are by no means limited to this.

The Earth Kingdom

Since the Earth Kingdom is the largest of the nations, it makes sense that we have the most names to look at here, with 79 names total, including 56 male names and 23 female names. I’ve included Jet with a question mark, because he may be using a pseudonym like the rest of the Freedom Fighters do, but his name is also plausible as the one his parents gave him. Macmu-Ling, the name of the haiku master in Ba Sing Se, may also be a surname, but this is unclear given the limited information on the character.

One syllable names are much more common in the Earth Kingdom, accounting for 30 out of 56 male names and 10 out of 23 female names. This is roughly half of all Earth Kingdom names, or 40 out of 79. Two syllable names account for 34 out of the 79, or about 43%, with three syllable names being rare overall, just 5 names or 6%. Overall, Earth Kingdom names tend to be shorter, which is consistent with a basis in Chinese, Korean, or Vietnamese names.

Unlike with Water Tribe names, there do not appear to be specific sounds that stand out as distinctively Earth Kingdom. Notably, nearly all names begin with consonants, with only 6 names beginning with a vowel, and always A or O. All of the consonant sounds found in English are represented in at least one name. The /ch/, /sh/, and /th/ digraphic sounds are all present, though not abundantly common. The Earth Kingdom being large and diverse, this greater diversity in names also makes sense.

There is evidence of unisex names in the Earth Kingdom. Wu is used by both a male and female character (Prince Wu and Aunt Wu), and the name Song which is listed as female above we will see again as the name of a male earthbender in Republic City. Other names could also be unisex, but as most are only used by one character, we have no way to know. The only noticeable gendered pattern seems to be that several female characters have English names, which I separated into the fifth column above. This seems to be exclusive or near-exclusive to Earth Kingdom women. Jet could also be interpreted as an English name, but as previously mentioned, this is possibly a pseudonym anyway.

The few named characters we have from Kyoshi Island all have authentic Japanese names, or at least names taken from the Japanese language - oyaji is an affectionate term meaning “old man” or “father”. Kyoshi is distinct from the rest of the Earth Kingdom in many other ways, including a history of isolationism which Japan also has. As for the sandbenders, we only have two names, but Ghashiun stands out as rather distinct in its spelling. Visually, the sandbenders resemble the Tuareg people of the Sahara region, so that might be the direction you want to go if you’re looking for authentic names to use for your sandbender OC’s.

The curious name Macmu-Ling is based on the surname of the writer for the episode she appeared in, Lauren MacMullan.

Fire Nation

We have 13 female names and 33 male names, for a total of 46 known Fire Nation names.

Two syllable names are most common, with 20 male and 6 female names, accounting for 26 out of the total 46, which is more than half. 15 names have one syllable, which is about one third of the total. Only 5 names have three syllables, or just one tenth, and once again there are no names longer than that.

The letter Z stands out as appearing in 8 names, while it’s much more rare in the other nations - though notably the Z in Zhao is pronounced differently than in the other names. Also worth noting is that all the names with Z other than Zhao - that is, all the names where Z is pronounced as it would be in English - are names of members of the royal family, with the exception of Kuzon. The digraphic sounds /ch/ and /sh/ are both present, but /th/ is not. Other absent sounds include /v/ and /w/.

The Fire Nation gives us our only example of gendered variants on the same name with Azulon and Azula. This implies that the -a ending is generally feminine, though we only have two female names that use it. Ilah ends with the same sound, albeit spelled with a silent H. There is also one masculine name, Yon Rha, that ends in -a, though with a different pronunciation (/ah/ vs. /uh/). The -on ending may also be masculine or generally masculine, but again, only two names use it. Female names are also more likely to end in the /ee/ sound, whether spelled -i or -ee, with 6 of the 13 female names ending this way. Only two male names end with this sound, and one of them, Li, is unisex.

In terms of basis in real world cultures, the Fire Nation often gets heavily identified with Japan in fanon, because they are an island nation with a history of imperialism, but what we see in canon is much more of a blend of Asian cultures, like the other nations. Some names, like Izumi and Roku are Japanese in origin, but some are also Chinese or Chinese-based such as Chan and Lu Ten. And as with the Water Tribes, the main characters like Zuko, Azula, Iroh, and Ozai, tend to have invented names. (Zuko especially would be odd as a Japanese name, since the -ko suffix in Japanese is feminine.) The name Ursa, curiously, is Latin - the feminine form of the word for “bear”. So while you certainly can use Japanese names for your Fire Nation OC’s, as with Inuit names in the Water Tribe, you’re not limited to that by any means. In fact, based on what we see in canon, I would say that if you’re creating several Fire Nation OC’s, you should have about an even mix of Japanese, Chinese, and invented names.

Air Nomads

With only 13 names, of which 9 are male and 4 are female, this is the smallest sample we have for any of the nations - understandably, since the Air Nomads are all but extinct for most of both shows. We’re even technically assuming that all of Tenzin’s children have Air Nomad names, but this is probably a safe assumption.

Two syllable names are still most common, with 9 of the 13, or about three fourths of the total. There are three names with three syllables, or a little less than one fourth. Aang has the only one syllable name.

With so few names, it’s hard to draw firm conclusions about phonetic patterns. The -a ending is seen on one name for each gender, as is the -i ending, and the -o ending appears on two male names and one female name. The -u ending only appears on one male name, but given the small sample size this doesn’t necessarily indicate a female Air Nomad name couldn’t have the same ending.

We do have clear and distinct real world basis for several Air Nomad names. Tenzin and Gyatso are both taken from the religious name of the current Dalai Lama. Rohan is an Indian name, and Laghima is a Hindu term for the spiritual power of becoming weightless. (Coincidentally, Rohan is also a French surname, but it was presumably the Indian name that the show meant to reference.) Pasang is a Nepali name, though a female one as far as I can tell, whereas it is used for a male Air Nomad. Tibetan, Nepalese, and Sanskrit names would thus all be good places to look for inspiration for your Air Nomad OC’s - though again, don’t feel limited to that. Chinese inspired names would also fit in, and Aang, like all the main characters, has an invented name.

United Republic of Nations

This group of character names, all from The Legend of Korra obviously, has to be considered differently. While we can make educated guesses as to the fictional ethnicity of most of these names, the fact is that many of these characters may be of mixed heritage and we can’t say for sure what the origins of their names are. In the chart below, I have color coded the names according to my best guess for nation of origin, rather than by gender. Names left in white, in my opinion, could be either Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation, and nothing about those characters gives us further clues.

With 31 names, we do have a decent sample size. Presumably Mako is a Fire Nation name and Bolin is Earth Kingdom, and based on the sound they do seem to fit in with those nations respectively. Raiko has a question mark because it is unclear if this is a given name or surname, but it does seem to follow the Zuko and Mako pattern and thus be most likely Fire Nation in origin. We also have the name Yasuko, for a character who is supposed to be of Fire Nation descent, using the -ko suffix on a feminine name.

Ginger and Buttercup I have designated as most likely Earth Kingdom because they are English names, and as we previously saw, only Earth Kingdom women seem to have names of this variety. Pema is presumably of at least partial Earth Kingdom descent based on her green eyes - this is also a real Bhutanese name. Characters like Lu, Gang, Daw, and Chung are all shown wearing green, and have one syllable names of the kind which are most common in the Earth Kingdom.

Hasook has a very distinctively Water Tribe name, and is of course a waterbender. Tahno and Ming-Hua are both waterbenders as well, though their names are less distinctively Water Tribe. These could simply be less typical names from one of the two polar tribes, or they may have Foggy Swamp Tribe heritage. (I believe this was a popular headcanon for Tahno, at least.) The possibility also exists that they have mixed heritage and may have Earth Kingdom or even Fire Nation names in spite of being waterbenders.

Conclusion

Like everything else in the world of Avatar, the names of the characters are inspired by and based on many real world cultures, primarily Asian, but no one fictional nation in the Avatar world corresponds exactly to a real world culture. When we look for or create names for original characters in this world, we want to respect the real world basis of these fictional cultures, but simply picking a Chinese, Japanese, or Inuit name from a list may not always jive with what we see in canon, in addition to running the risk of being a bit stereotypical.

With the canon patterns outlined above, fan fiction writers and fan artists should feel free to expand their search for names to other Asian, Arctic, or North African cultures, such as Thai, Burmese, Nepalese, Yupik, Aleut, or Berber names. Baby name lists can be helpful, but are often dubiously reliable, especially for non-Western cultures. Personally, when I want to give an OC an authentic name, I prefer to use Wikipedia to find real people from the culture or cultures I’m drawing on. I’ve joked about my own tendency to pick names of Japanese, Chinese, and Korean saints for my fan fiction, but searching for Wikipedia lists or categories of artists, philosophers, or scientists from a given culture can also be useful.

Wherever one chooses to look, name lists are best treated as a starting place - a name from a given real culture won’t necessarily fit into a given Avatar culture, and a name from a certain Avatar culture does not have to come from any particular real world culture. Fans should also feel free to invent names of their own, as the creators of Avatar did. Of the 20 major OC’s in my story Fate Deferred, half of them have real names or variations on real names, and the other half are invented.

And if you want to have a female Earth Kingdom OC named something like Jasmine or Crystal - these are also perfectly in line with canon.

#avatar the last airbender #legend of korra #atla #atla meta #fan fiction #catie writes things #y'all wanted it now here it is

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theanimeview · 3 years ago

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My Nitpick Issue with Sherlock in Moriarty the Patriot

By: Peggy Sue Wood | @pswediting

It may surprise some of you to know that I have degrees in book reading and writing. While earning those degrees I studied one specific time period more than the others--that being British Literature from late-17th/18th century through the early 20th century. This is to say that it is a time period I know a little more about than you might think. And early 1900s is probably my favorite period out of that timeline, particularly England under Victoria’s rule.

And, perhaps, because of this strange obsession I have with the period, I presently have a small bone to pick over Moriarty the Patriot.

It’s not the minor inaccuracies of the clothes, nor the adaptation of character designs. It’s not even the adjustment to social tendencies depicted that are more Japanese than British-English of any period thus far either--because those kinds of things happen frequently in adaptations. And it's not Moriarty or his backstory too! Because, again, this is an adaptation, and liberties will be taken to fit the new story (besides, even in the original works by Doyle the man’s backstory was inconsistent).

My issue is with the character of Sherlock and his supposed “deductions.” Well, maybe more accurately it's with the writing of Sherlock.

You see, Sherlock is almost always introduced the same way in an adaptation. He makes a judgment about someone (usually about Watson or the Watson stand-in) and then proves it using his observational skills. This introduction is important because it clarifies that the world of the characters is one based on where common sense and science not only work but make sense. His deductions are logical and based on some semblance of rationality. Here is an excerpt from the original novel:

“I knew you came from Afghanistan. From long habit the train of thoughts ran so swiftly through my mind, that I arrived at the conclusion without being conscious of intermediate steps. There were such steps, however. The train of reasoning ran, `Here is a gentleman of a medical type, but with the air of a military man. Clearly an army doctor, then. He has just come from the tropics, for his face is dark, and that is not the natural tint of his skin, for his wrists are fair. He has undergone hardship and sickness, as his haggard face says clearly. His left arm has been injured. He holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner. Where in the tropics could an English army doctor have seen much hardship and got his arm wounded? Clearly in Afghanistan.'

How does this prove we are in a world where common sense and logic works? Well, because he didn’t pull any of these deductions from thin air. He just used his eyes and common knowledge to make a quick judgment.

In the example above, everything that Sherlock assumes is true and based on reasonable assumptions about the time period and about what he can observe of the person before him.

The tan of Watson’s skin is something he notes because London is usually dark and wet around this season, so you’re unlikely to get a tan. The way the man walks and stands is also a thing he can observe, and fresh military men walk very differently from the average citizen or gentleman. These two observations, coupled with noticeable injury and limp could lead one to think that maybe he has just come back from the current war (the First Anglo-Afghan War). Of course, maybe he wasn’t injured in the war at all--maybe something else happened; however, you can make a pretty good guess that an abled bodied soldier would not be home and looking for a room in the middle of war-times if something hadn’t happened to him on the battlefield.

My point is that all of Sherlock’s deductions come from observing details, paying attention to the basics of the world (such as the ongoing war or understanding rigor mortis), and using your senses. Sure, there may be a few things the average person doesn’t know that Sherlock does, but that’s because Sherlock has studied different things and to a more serious degree. The level of understanding is different, but not impossible to achieve in one’s own time or effort. And, as another note, Sherlock is not perfectly observant all of the time. There are plenty of examples of him needing to take breaks, of him closing his eyes to block out distractions so he can better focus on what someone is saying, and of him smoking to zone out for a bit so that he can come back to a problem with fresh eyes at a later time.

It’s absolutely vital to Sherlock’s character, and the original story, that all of the deductions are based on the “possible,” which is why the introduction of Sherlock in Episode 6 of this adaptation immediately irritated me. Here is the scene:

Side note: I’m sorry it’s shown as a poorly made gif--I literally could not find a copy of the clip with English subtitles on YouTube so I could not include it as a video. If you want to look at it in the episode itself, it starts at about the 13:00 minute mark. EPISODE LINK)

Here is what bothers me so much. Why would a mathematician be checking to see if the staircase on a ship fits the golden ratio? More importantly, why would that in any way matter to Moriarty as a character? Based on what we’ve seen so far of this character, and we’ve had 6 and 1/2 episodes to define him so far, none of Sherlock’s statement makes sense here.

Like, at all. (And I know that this also happens in the manga--doesn’t make sense there either.)

You know what would make sense though? For the time period and the character development we’ve seen of Moriarty thus far? A pause to consider-- and maybe even compare--staircases on the ship between the main steps for passengers and the steps for commoners or staff.

Why would that make sense? Oh, thank you so much for asking. Time to get real nerdy here for a minute:

Class issues were a serious problem in Victorian England (as they are now, though in a different way). These issues were not necessarily the same as depicted in the show but it was still consistently present throughout the society as a whole. (A good, short read on the subject can be found here for those of you interested: Social Life in Victorian England.)

One way that this issue came out was in the very architecture of homes. In Victorian England, nobleman homes and estates were built with main staircases, where the residents and guests walked, and servent staircases, where the staff and other temporary employees walked. The difference in these stairs was huge, as the servant staircases were basically death traps.

In the late 1800s, a mathematician (and architect) named Peter Nickolson figured out the exact measurements that would generally ensure a comfortable and easy walk upstairs:

BTW: Here is a great video on the subject and how they were death traps: Staircases in Victorian England

However, Nickolson’s math and designs were not used regularly in the design of houses for years to come.

By the setting of the story, and given Moriarty’s interest in maths, his understanding of class issues, and beyond--this kind of knowledge would make far more sense than searching for the golden ratio in a man-made set of stairs.

Moreover, the golden ratio is generally interesting to mathematicians (to my understanding) because it can be seen in nature frequently. It is a pattern found everywhere, from the way that petals grow on flowers, to how seashells form, to freaking hurricane formations! So why on Earth would Moriarty be interested in an architect's choice to use such a ration when planning a staircase?

He wouldn’t, I believe. Nor would Sherlock generally be able to make that assumption based on his time gazing at the staircase, distance from said staircase, nor angle.

So what can he deduce, if not that? Well, he may be able to deduce that Moriarty is a nobleman based on his attire. He may also be able to deduce that the man is a student based on age, as in an earlier episode we were told he’s quite young to be teaching in university and appears close in age to his students. Maybe he’s a student of architecture? But, if he’s a nobleman--as we suspect he is based on his attire--then it's unlikely he works a labor-intensive job or one close to it. So, he must be in academia for academic reasons such as mathematics. Physics during that time, as an academic subject, focused more on lighting, heat, electricity, magnetism, and such. And, Sherlock notes that Moriarty is specifically looking at the stairs, not the lights of the ship.

So, BAM! I’ve deduced Moriarty is a young nobleman who is likely a student of mathematics. Perhaps he’s recently had a lesson on staircases or another algebraic concept that’s caused him to pause with momentary interest.

It makes a heck of a lot more sense than finding a “golden ratio” in a man-planned and man-made staircase... don’t you think? And, maybe, we can even deduce that rather than a student he’s a professor who has just thought up an interesting lesson--though that would be a BIG jump from the data we’ve been provided here.

Deductions that come from major leaps in logic make it seem like Sherlock is doing magic... and he is--because it is magical that people find it impressive or believable. It’s not. And I would argue that the original character would find it insulting based on his comments to Watson regarding being compared to other fictional detectives.

Pay in mind, I have this feeling about several adaptations, so my judgment on Moriarty the Patriot isn’t technically exclusive. It just hit me so hard in my first viewing that I felt I needed to share because generally, this issue of deductions becoming magic rather than stemming from logic doesn’t happen in the first two minutes of meeting Sherlock Holmes.

So... yeah. Thanks for coming to my absurd history/lit lesson through Moriarty the Patriot. I appreciate you sticking with me to the end and hope it was enjoyable.

You can watch the series on Funimation.com right now at: https://www.funimation.com/shows/moriarty-the-patriot

Overall, it’s a pretty good series; although there was a lot more child-murder than I expected...

#Moriarty the Patriot #Yuukoku no Moriarty #funimation #analysis #character analysis #character #sherlock holmes #james moriarty

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lilydalexf · 4 years ago

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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Mary Ruth Keller

Mary Ruth Keller has 42 stories at Gossamer, plus her stories are at AO3. She's written a number of short standalone stories, but she's thought through the X-Files mythology and written about it probably as much as anybody ever has. So if you want to dive into the mythology and all its drama, you need to go read her mythology fics ASAP. (But read this long, interesting interview first!) Big thanks to Mary Ruth for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Quite frankly, yes. The Kuxan Sum Cycle branches off the actual series following the Third Season episode Syzygy. I took the myth-arc as it stood at that time, post Nisei-731, and the agents in mid-Rift. Although I didn’t quite realize it when I started out, I was most interested in moving the myth-arc forward in a continuously unfurling narrative, one where Scully and Mulder became an effective investigative team who support each other as partners and friends again. After I started writing in my little corner of the X-F universe in 1996, there was a lot of stuff on the show that just happened, with no real storytelling logic to it I could fathom, but that seemed to be popular. I stopped writing in 2000 because I was frantically busy at my new job (which consumed far too many twelve-plus-hour workdays and weekends) and because my sister and I were trying to take care of my elderly, increasingly frail, Mother. So, I never expected, when I started writing in 2018 and posting again in 2019 (I reposted all my stories, in order, to AO3 and fanfiction.net, because Chermera would never have made sense without them) for readers to take an interest in myth-arc and character issues that the series writers had simply abandoned to go chase, well, anything else, especially if it made no coherent sense whatsoever. What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?

The fandom was a lot of fun. There were many interesting, engaging discussions I took part in with other fans of the show, some of whom I am still in touch with.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

All of the above. I spent a lot of time discussing writing and characters with other writers on ATXC, except when I was actively working on my novels. Since I was doing basic research into microwave remote sensing of the Earth while working at the Naval Research Laboratory at the time – yes, I was one of those dreaded Department of Defense scientists the show had a love/hate relationship with – my writing happened at night and on weekends. Novels, especially the longer ones, take me about a year from first words on disk until release, which meant I didn’t have all the time to participate on-line as I would have otherwise. But, I enjoyed chatting with the fellow denizens of the Endies Board, and on the EMXC, Scullyfic, and Je Souhaite mailing lists. I’ve saved some of those posts and conversation threads on my older computers, where it’s fun re-reading them from time to time. What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

There were a lot of generous, funny, very intelligent fans involved with X-F back then (not that there aren’t now; there are, of course). I started writing because I wanted to get the myth-arc and the characters back on-track, the long-term story moving forward and the agents again being the smart investigators I loved hanging out with on Friday nights. But, outside of having read a lot of myth, literature, fiction, and non-fiction, I didn’t know enough about the mechanics of writing fiction. Several authors were willing to help out, some explicitly through E-mail conversations, and some from general comments about crafting stories that were posted to ATXC. I had a real problem with how I initially handled dialog, which I had some E-mail guidance on, that was very much appreciated. I also had two quite diligent beta readers, one an on-line fan, and one a real-life friend, both male, who helped me with the direction of the Scully-Mulder half of Anath. I was, at the time, utterly exasperated with how the pair of them had become such complete morons on the series, both totally incapable of investigating anything successfully, which was affecting my writing the characters in that story. What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show? Ooh, boy. I’d like to say I started watching with the show with the Pilot, but I didn’t, quite. Tom Shales was the Washington Post TV critic at the time the Pilot aired – yes, not only was I a government scientist, I was living in Alexandria, Virginia, in 1992. He was intrigued by the characters and premise and found Duchovny and Anderson engaging while playing their roles. At the time, I was wrapped up trying to work on a PhD while still employed at NRL, so I tucked the review away, waiting until I had Friday nights free to check it out. I’m a great lover of science fiction, so I thought to give the show a try, eventually. [Lilydale note: I found a couple things Tom Shales wrote about The X-Files premiere in 1993: Fall 1993 TV preview article and a “Pilot” episode review.]

The first episode I sat down to watch was the First Season Darkness Falls, where Mulder and Scully get trapped at the logging camp with the Earth Firster, Doug Spinney, the logging executive, Steve Humphries, the Forest Ranger, Larry Moore, and the gooey green bugs. I was amazed by that story. It was as perfect a little piece of science fiction as I have seen on TV (except for one bit toward the end), with an environmental moral to it as well, where all the characters make good and bad choices, and they all suffer or succeed because of them.

What hooked me, really hooked me, were the first/second acts, specifically, Dana Scully’s actions, once they find the desiccated logger in the tree. The investigation is handled logically, in that it’s not the big male agent who goes shinnying up the trunk to look at the evidence while everyone else stands around watching and wailing, “Whatever shall we do!” No, it’s little Dana Scully who takes the ride to the upper branches. This made oodles of sense, in that she was this tiny woman whom two men could lever up that far with a rope, a hand winch, and pulleys. When she gets there, after grimacing (who wouldn’t, considering what she saw), she starts investigating. She does an on-the-spot post-mortem exam, while Mulder makes an ooky male-body-parts joke, but everyone takes her results seriously. I was thrilled. Here was a female character I could really relate to, someone who could hold her own in a difficult situation, unlike most of those on the tube, then or now.

I made a point, over the following summer, of watching as many re-runs as I could, catching up on the episodes and characters. The stories ran to science fiction and horror, which are my preference. Further, although there was an emphasis on the paranormal, several of the first season episodes were written so both Mulder’s wanting-to-believe-but-needing-proof intuitive, emotional approach and Scully’s logical, scientific, justice-oriented viewpoint each got the narrative coherently from initial crime to identifying and apprehending a suspect. It was some spectacular, complex writing, and I was hooked, hopelessly hooked. I discuss this some on my old author web-page, which still exists, courtesy of the Wayback machine), so I won’t belabor it. What got you involved with X-Files fan-fic? The shenanigans within the Third Season, quite honestly. The myth-arc wasn’t moving forward, as it had during the Second Season, which I really couldn’t understand. Carter had given us this bang-up start in the ABC Trilogy with all these new fictional possibilities to explore, but instead, bupkis. The MOTW’s were retreads with no depth or moral/ethical weight to them, except for Darin’s stories. The intelligent agents I had enjoyed spending time with while they pursued their oddball investigations were evaporating before my eyes. Mulder had always been this deeply intuitive character who cared about others and knew he could get it wrong, so needed Scully’s logic in their investigations, even if he didn’t always want to hear her observations and questions. But that character was being replaced by a cookie-cutter misunderstood anti-hero, who wasn’t thinking, just running off to chase butterflies, who was always right because he was The Guy. Scully, as an investigator, the little agent who could, was simply being sidelined. Sure, she’d argue with Mulder, but the writers had stopped giving her and her logical viewpoint a real role in their cases, Darin excepted, again. As the series went on, the Agent and Doctor Dana Scully I respected was replaced with this snappish little female whose only notable skill was running in high heels, who spent her time standing around with her arms crossed, and made pruney faces at Mulder if she were required to do any actual investigating. I hated that character, but, apparently, the all-male writing staff just loved her.

I knew about the on-line fandom, so I thought to check out if anybody else had noticed these “improvements.” First, I spent time at ATXF, discussing the changes with the series, that disturbed a lot of folks, not just me. Eventually, I tripped onto ATXC. There were writers there who understood the two characters, quite well, but weren’t that interested in the other problems with the show that bothered me deeply.

Like many fan-fiction writers, I decided to try to bring in, or in my case, bring back, what I was missing in what was being aired. Sins of the Fathers was the result. As I mentioned above, it was a far from perfect story, but I learned much putting it together, and it got a lot of positive feedback. So I kept writing and trying to improve what I wrote. Folks appreciated it, then and now, surprisingly, which was endless encouragement to keep going. What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom? With work and my Mom, as I mentioned above, I dropped out for a few years. My new job is still microwave remote sensing of the Earth, at a University-affiliated laboratory, not working directly for the government, but the NASA/NSF-type funding for the research I like to do is much harder to come by, so it takes up a lot more of my time to keep funded and working. Adding to that, I haven’t found places like ATXC in the 90’s or the Endies Board, but I suppose lightning only strikes once. Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Not really, no. I’ve enjoyed other TV series, but, I never felt those shows were just throwing away essential parts of themselves as X-F did, or, if they went bad, I simply stopped watching them. A fandom is, or can be, a huge time commitment, which, as I’ve noted, I don’t have that much of. I discuss this quite extensively in my author’s notes at the end of Chermera, so I won’t repeat myself. [Lilydale note: the long author notes are at the end of the story’s last chapter, not in the AO3 notes section.] Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

As a child, I loved reading myths and legends from many different cultures. So many amazing stories, so much that touches on truth. Greek myth, Norse legends, Islamic tales, Celtic fables, all of them. It goes without saying that discovering Tolkien’s fully-realized Middle Earth in my early teens was like falling into an river of endless delights.

In literature, perhaps the character I enjoy most is Sherlock Holmes. On television/in movies, I’d have to say: Beverly Crusher, (early) Dana Scully, Susan Ivanova of Babylon 5, Pa’u Zotoh Zhaan and (early) Aeryn Sun on Farscape, Samantha Carter on Stargate SG-1, Hermione Granger, and most recently, Lagertha on Vikings. Dunno, there might be a pattern there. Possibly. Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Yes, absolutely. I started rewatching the series when it ran on BBC America, enjoying the first two seasons again. I’d actually never stopped thinking about Mulder and Scully; I just lost the time to write about them, until two years ago, when I managed to land some long-term funding so I wasn’t staying up nights writing proposals every few months. I’d have a thought about how to advance the story that became Chermera, so I’d make a mental note and play with it in my head. I also have two more novels and a satyr play left to go in the sequence of stories I want to write, so I’m turning over plot-lines and potential arcs in my head all the time. Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom? I do read X-F fan-fic. Since the series has wandered so far away from what engaged me, and most fan-fic keeps up with that, I don’t read very much. As far as other fandoms, one was enough. Do you have any favorite X-Files fan-fic stories or authors?

Reaching back into the dark ages, I’d say Pellinor and Nascent. They may both be available on Gossamer. [Lilydale note: Fortunately, they are!] What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise? Zurvan is the favorite of my older stories. It, like Twelfth Night (Denha on AO3 to avoid confusion with another X-F story named Twelfth Night), builds on the past stories in their trilogies and brings the overall arc to new places. It’s fun to uncover surprises when writing and develop challenges to address in the future, which both of those stories did. Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I’d certainly like to. I had planned to write three trilogies with their satyr plays, each of them focusing on an aspect of the mythical Triple Goddess: Maiden, Matron, and Crone, in the X-F universe. Only, being me, I turned it around. Sandra Ann Miller (Samantha) is the Maiden, but I’ve just started telling that part of the arc with the transitional Anath and the first trilogy story Chermera. I’m approaching this trilogy as a coherent tale spread across the three novels, which is different from the other two. The Caroline Lowenberg Trilogy didn’t really get organized until Twelfth Night. It was only the third story I’d ever written, so perhaps I can be excused. The Dana Scully Trilogy was all interconnected, but that was more of an organic, rather than a pre-planned and deliberate, effort. I didn’t really grasp the full arc of what I was creating there until I was writing Chermera and looked back over the threads running from Rustic Suite through Anath. The next story in the Sandra Ann Miller Trilogy involves the exposure of the Japanese arm of the Consortium, but, I need to read up on Japanese history, myths and legends, and world view before I write it. After finishing and posting Chermera, that’s what I’ve been doing. The conflict between Amaterasu, the Sun goddess, and her ne’er-do-well brother Susanoo-no-Mikoto, the god of, among other things, storms, marriage, and love, as told in the Kojiki and the Nihongi (both written down in their near-final forms at the same time as we in the West were just recording the first skeletal versions of the Arthurian Legends), will definitely get worked into the Sandra Ann Miller Trilogy. I’m starting to put the arcs and plot-lines together, but, I’m not ready to begin writing yet. Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work? As I’ve discussed, I do. Part of why I take my time is because Mulder and Scully are owed real, challenging cases to solve - the two intelligent agents with their own approaches, strengths, and weaknesses, remember. Partly, because I have original fiction ideas I’d like to pursue. Trying to do the best I possibly can in the sheltered world of X-F where I attempt to create stories with universal themes, well-realized settings, coherent plot-lines, and original characters who resonate with my readers is practice for the original fiction. I’ll never write the Great American Novel (whatever that is), but I’d like to write stories that are as good as I can make them and fun for my readers, so I keep plugging. Where do you get ideas for stories? Reading and thinking, mostly. I try to look for ideas that haven’t been done to death, or different approaches to old themes. I have four original novels I scribble mental notes on. After I bring this myth-arc I’ve been working on to its (to me) logical resolution, I hope I’ll be able enough of a writer to get started on them. What's the story behind your pen name? Actually, it’s my real name. At the time I started writing, I didn’t think to do anything else. On ATXC and Gossamer, I wrote several of the shorts that are separate from the Kuxan Sum Cycle under the pen name Lise Meitner. She was a Twentieth Century theoretical physicist who explained nuclear fission, then was cut out of a Nobel prize because the judges of her day thought Marie Curie and Irene Joliot-Curie were “enough” women physicists working in radioactivity to be so honored. [Lilydale note: here’s her Wikipedia page. Among many other fascinating things talked about there, she was nominated for the Nobel Prize 48 times in two different categories and had the 109th chemical element, meitnerium, named after her. She also escaped Nazi Germany in a plot involving trains, boats, planes, and an emergency diamond ring. You really ought to read about her.] Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

I’d shared the first five of my novels with my family back in 1996. They liked them, my sister especially. I’m not sure they knew what to make of them. I haven’t shown them to my in-laws, but, I think my sister-in-law found them on her own. We haven’t discussed them, as they aren’t her usual preference, which is Romance. One distant blood relation was thrilled to discover them on-line and wrote me about them. My sister, though, is my (self-admitted) biggest fan. When we were kids, she and I shared a bedroom, where I’d make up stories to tell her at night so she could fall asleep. She and I correspond regularly by E-mail (she’s in Florida and I’m in Maryland). Back while I was working my way through Chermera, she asked out of the blue if I was ever going to write any more. She was thrilled to hear I had been but she doesn’t have regular Internet access other than at her job. I made printed, bound copies of all my stories to mail to her last Christmas. She loves them, bless her. Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

I’ve sent Chermera to Gossamer, but, it hasn’t been updated since July 2018. All the rest of the stories are there.

At AO3, my stories are under: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrkeller. The Kuxan Sum Cycle is linked together at: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555492.

I’ve published the Lise Meitner stories under my own name there: Faustus Mulder; Late Night Thoughts on Evolution, Hard Times, and Lost Pets; You Just Don’t Understand; and Lux Perpetua. Since I could separate out the trilogies into their own cycle, it just made sense.

At fan-fiction.net, they’re under: https://www.fanfiction.net/~maryruthkeller

Again, the Lise Meitner stories are under my own name. Since fanfiction.net doesn’t have a linked series option like AO3, I’ve added a header to all eleven of the stories in the Kuxan Sum Cycle so far explaining the order. The novels all are tagged with thumbnail versions of the covers I made for them. Also, the literary quotes I started each chapter and begin and end each story with, are kept in the AO3 versions, but are removed at fanfiction.net to avoid potential copyright issues. Shakespeare, Christine de Pisan, the Popol Vuh, the Ugaritic myths around Anath, and others are all long out of, or never were in, copyright, of course, but, just to be on the safe side, I’m following fanfiction.net’s rules.

If folks care to write, I’m still at my old eclipse address: [email protected]. Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Enjoy it, use it as an opportunity to make connections and expand your horizons as a storyteller. Fan-fiction was much more of a home-grown effort back in the 90’s than it is now, when there are how-to books, of all things. But, don’t get so wrapped up one forgets about real life. That’s where all the best stories are.

(Posted by Lilydale on October 27, 2020)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #mary ruth keller

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just-the-mage · 4 years ago

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Review-Love Death + Robots (Pt 1. Episodes 1-4)

So here we are again. You, dear readers, and I, a mostly defunct tumblr page. I was thinking...I’ve written a few reviews on here before, and I’ve rather enjoyed myself to be honest. So until RP starts up again for me, I’m going to grab some popcorn and start reviewing some of the media I’ve been indulging in during this exceptionally fun pandemic we’ve all been saddled with (and are becoming increasingly more and more used to as time goes on). Here we go!

Spoilers incoming! I don’t like to discuss a show without going through it entirely-no stone unturned. You have been warned!

Love Death + Robots is a compilation series-each episode is self-contained content, based on what I have experienced thus far. The content varies wildly from cute and sweet to surreal, to horrific. For right now I’m going to stick with the first four episodes since they are fresh in my mind.

Episode 1: Three Robots

Three robots shows a short adventure shared by, you guessed it-Three robots exploring the crumbling remains of human society. It comes across as three tourists making their way through an area that they are completely unfamiliar with, attempting to define and understand elements of the environment as humans once did. Their analysis and attempts to understand not only human culture, but also basic human biology, were entertaining to say the least. Each robot has flair, character, and a their own take on humans and humanity. Over the course of the episode, the fall of mankind is referenced a few times, being initially explained as a mass extinction due to environmental disasters (global warming is probably a factor-one of the buildings has an entire ship sticking out of it). However, the twist ending throws that whole theory into question once the cat that has been accompanying the robots for the last leg of their journey reveals itself as capable of speech. And, interestingly enough...being in possession of opposable thumbs. It was certainly unexpected, and a bit odd-the cat (and its many, many brethren) manage to finish out the episode by convincing the robots that if the robots do not pet them, the cats may explode. I will say that the ending, though it was rather silly and fitting with the tone, felt like an out of place twist intended mostly to give a bit of closure to a story that had no real need to have an ending. It felt a little out-of-left field, at least to me.

This first episode, I think, is one that I could recommend to a much more general audience than almost all of the other content of the show. It’s whimsical and cute, despite inhabiting such a grim setting (and grim it is-post apocalyptic is not taken lightly here. There are plenty of corpses, some skeletal and some not quite so much. At least one of them appears to have died by suicide). I found it to be a nice addition and a good introduction to ease people into the tone of the show. Definitely give this one a watch, even if the ending sort of comes from nowhere.

Episode 2: Beyond the Aquila Rift

This episode was definitely a change of pace from the first. It begins as a high science fiction story starring a hunky, middle aged man and his two crewmates, making some sort of cargo run (?) through a wormhole of some kind, but promptly finding themselves in a completely different place from what they expected. Hunky space captain wakes up first, finding that he is greeted by an old friend (read: lover) of his, who explains that there was a navigation error that led them off course-way off course. They’re in a completely different area than they expected. The ship’s navigator wakes as well, swearing that there couldn’t have been an error in her calculations, but seems ill and is placed back in her future tech cryopod to rest. Space captain man then bangs it out with his ex-lover (Greta) in a scene that was almost definitely written by a man, and she reveals to him that she lied, and that him and his crew are actually hundreds of light-years further off course than they had thought they were, basically dashing any hopes that he could have of returning to his old life. The two then wake the navigator again, who immediately starts ranting that ‘Greta’ isn’t who she says she is. At this point, enough clues have been given that the captain catches up with the audience (it was all a simulation the whole time), and he confronts Greta, demanding that she reveal herself as she truly is. She does, after some prodding-and the captain finds himself in an infested husk of a ship, aged and haggard, obviously dying of starvation. Greta reveals herself as a lovely spider-beast, and the captain wakes up from his pod again-back in his comfortable illusion once more.

I love the premise of this one. Crazy aliens and shit like this is a huge draw for me-sci-fi horror is probably my favorite subgenre of horror when it’s done well. I would count this episode as doing it pretty well. They don’t go into much techno-babble, which I think is a pitfall for some sci-fi stories. The writers are well aware that we aren’t spending too long in this world, so we don’t need to know much about the rules under which it operates outside of ‘computer mistake your ship fly here.’ The twist ending didn’t end up being too much of a twist-in my opinion there were too many clues given throughout the episode to make it that much of a surprise that things weren’t as they seemed. The odds of this man meeting his ex-lover in the infinitesimal reaches of space just by chance were a bit too impossible to make it believable-and the navigator was far too convinced that her work couldn’t be incorrect. In the end, it was an expected twist, but still pretty jarring. Execution is pretty good overall though-and the sex scene is pretty decent as well, even if its strictly a dude-fantasy thing. Also, call me a sucker for cool looking beasties, but I adore the design on spider-Greta. That’s a lady right there for you.

Episode 3: Ice Age

The only live action episode I’ve seen so far-this one gives an *entirely* different tone than the majority of the other episodes in the series. Topher Grace and Mary Elizabeth Winstead happen upon a lost civilization that exists entirely within their refrigerator. They watch in awe as it develops incredibly quickly-hundreds of years passing within the civilization in roughly an hour or so of real time. What starts in the morning as a town in the viking ages eventually develops into a modern society, almost destroys itself with nukes, and then rebuilds from the ashes into a fully futuristic society that quickly ascends beyond physical form, appearing to disperse itself into the cosmos, no longer bound by such petty rules as the laws of physics. A disappointed Topher asks if they’ll return-to which he receives a sad ‘no’ from his partner. It seems all is lost, and the couple go to bed for the night-only to find that the cycle has restarted overnight, and they probably won’t be able to keep any frozen chicken in the freezer for quite some time.

This one is probably one of my favorites of the series so far. It’s fairly well acted, but the real beauty of the episode is getting to watch the mini-civilization develop itself in a glorious time lapse-the work that must’ve gone into it must have been monumental, to be honest. The final product certainly felt that way, in any case. What I also found fascinating was a specific scene in which the protagonists were abandoned in place of some of the tiny denizens of the lost civilization-which made me realize exactly how slow the ‘normal sized people’s’ actions must have looked to the diminutive people of this rapidly developing society. Reminiscent of the earth’s motion in relation to our own perception-and reinforcing the concept that to an individual, perception is everything.

Episode 4: Sonnie’s Edge

This episode opens with three people transporting mysterious cargo into a heavily guarded complex, quickly encountering and interacting with a ‘bigwig’ of sorts with a beautiful woman on his arm. Through context clues the audience is easily able to discover that the three (pictured above) are here for a fight-and that their cargo is their fighter, a living creature of obviously immense proportion. The bigwig asks the team to throw the fight, and they refuse, even after he offers a large amount of money. (It’s worth mentioning that during this scene, ‘Sonnie’, the leader and controller of the beast fighter, shares an EXTREMELY homosexual gaze with the bigwig’s beautiful lady friend. Don’t think I didn’t notice the setup, because I definitely noticed the payoff, even though it was rudely interrupted). Sonnie and her teammates enter the ring, setting up as it appears that she will be piloting her fighter in some way. Her opponent is also introduced, though he is hardly important in the story-imagine a cake of beef with a big sticker on him that says ‘mysogyny’ in bold print. What follows is one of the most brutal fight scenes I’ve seen in animation (this is just my personal opinion though). These creatures fucking tear each other to shreds, with Sonnie’s beast only just barely emerging as the victor, tearing the opposing fighter’s head clean from its body. The bigwig is obviously angry, as is Sonnie’s opponent, and Sonnie and her team retires to a hotel room of sorts, with the exception of Sonnie-who slips away into the room that houses her fighter, promptly encountering the beauty from earlier! (Payoff time)..and it gets gay. Fast. I love me some wlw content, and there’s some nice tension here, right up until the beauty stabs Sonnie through the head. Rude. The bigwig reveals himself, which was a bit of a surprise-the part of me that hadn’t seen much of this show yet was hoping for a fluffy little happy ending. It wasn’t to be though..after the beauty crushes Sonnie’s skull, the two promptly realize that ‘Sonnie’ wasn’t Sonnie at all-just some biotech. The *real* Sonnie...was the fighter, the whole time. Who promptly makes short work of both the beauty and the bigwig, (implied), in what I can only describe as the most satisfying moment in the series that I’ve seen thus far.

This was easily my favorite episode of the show, and has continued to be, and I assume will continue to be my favorite through the rest of the series. It’s not just because of the lesbian rep (my people!), or the misogynists getting fucking destroyed, but the strength of the reveal, the choreography of the fight scene, and the *power* of the protagonist. I love her. I love her sooo much. We are seamlessly introduced into the world, shown a woman who has been beaten, scarred, faced sexual abuse, and she remade herself into a being of pure power. She fought back, and *look how she fights back*. I cannot describe just how much of a cheer-worthy moment it was to watch the smug smile be summarily wiped from the face of the bigwig. I *love* seeing a villain who has full confidence in their victory suddenly realize that they don’t have the upper hand anymore...and that they are, in fact, absolutely screwed. This was one of those wonderful, wonderful moments, and I can think of nobody more deserving than this villain of being torn to shreds. This was an A+ episode for sure-100% recommend this one for anyone who can handle a bit of gore.

Thank you so much for reading! This is only part 1...more to come!

#ooc #not ffxiv #review #show review #tv show review #love death and robots #love #death #robots #animation #sonnie's edge #ice age #beyond the aquila rift #three robots #wlw #lesbian

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emachinescat · 4 years ago

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Burton Guster Gets Salty

A Psych Fan-Fiction

by @emachinescat

@febuwhump day 15 - “run, don’t look back"

Summary: “Run! Don’t look back!” That’s what Shawn says to Gus as they run for their lives from a killer with a gun. But Gus does look back – just in time to see his best friend go down with the crack of the pistol.

Characters: Shawn, Gus, Henry

Words: 3,860

TW: None

Note: Takes place in October, about 10 months after “The Polarizing Express.” The timeline isn’t super important here, but there is a reference to that episode, as well as to “Shawn Takes a Shot in the Dark.”

Keep reading here, or on AO3!

If you enjoy, please consider liking, commenting, or re-blogging, and you can follow me for more content like this! :)

Burton Guster should have learned from his childhood of Sunday school – when someone says, “Don’t look back,” listen. Keep your eyes locked on the path ahead, don’t stop, don’t turn around, just run.

Lot’s wife looked back after expressly being told not to by God himself. She got herself turned into table salt for her troubles.

Of course, it wasn’t God’s voice who ordered Gus to run and not look back. It was Shawn’s, and Gus rarely listened to his best friend, mostly because nine times out of ten nothing Shawn said made any sense.

Oh, what Gus would give to get turned into a pillar of salt right now. It would be so much more bearable than what had actually happened when he’d ignored Shawn’s frantic orders and skidded around to check on his friend’s progress.

Lot’s wife got off easy, Gus thought grimly. She was so busy turning into something that made mashed potatoes into clouds of bliss that she didn’t have time to see the destruction in her wake.

She didn’t have to watch her best friend get shot.

The thing was, it wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous case. They’d actually done everything by the book this time – a rare occasion for Shawn, who was really trying to prove himself after the Czarsky fiasco last year. Gus was proud of him. Shawn was still, well, Shawn, annoying and juvenile as ever, with an endless supply of embarrassing nicknames, but in more subtle – and more important – ways, over the past year he’d started making strides to grow up a little.

And then this happened. They found their covers blown, and they were cut off from the SBPD because their wires had been discovered. A Shawn-sized distraction later, and they were bolting out of the lake house where the bad guys had been running their counterfeiting and cocaine operation (they were quite ambitious in their criminal activities, with their fingers in more than one illegal pie), out in the middle of the woods, running for their lives from at least four angry killers with guns.

Shawn was lagging behind a bit – he’d been picked on by the goons, roughed up a little before their escape, and he was hurting, slower than usual. Being knocked to the ground with a powerful right hook and then given a few hearty kicks in the ribs would slow anyone down. Gus stopped to let him catch up, and nearly took a bullet to the face. He’d ducked just in time.

That’s when Shawn, clutching his abdomen with one arm, waved him on with the other. “I’m coming, buddy!” he called, barely dodging a bullet himself. “Don’t be that one Stormtrooper who can actually hit his target!” When Gus hesitated, Shawn ordered, his voice firmer and more authoritative than Gus had ever heard it. “Run! Don’t look back!”

And so Gus did what he was told. Shawn was catching up anyway. And they seemed to be gaining ground as they hopped over roots and skidded through puddles of red and golden leaves. Any other time Gus would have enjoyed hearing the autumnal crunch beneath his loafers. Now, he hated the sound, because it might give away their position. Still, though, that bobbing and weaving technique that Shawn’s dad had drilled into them on camping trips really came in handy. It had helped Shawn get away from a shooter in the woods once before, and it seemed to be doing the same now.

They raced through the trees, and the sound of their pursuers slowed. It helped that dusk was turning to night in earnest, and the full moon was mostly blocked by the canopy of trees overhead. The light that snuck through the cracks dappled the forest floor with just enough luminescence that they could see where they were placing their feet. It would be hard for their pursuers to see them in the dim light, let alone hit their targets.

After what could have been no more than ten minutes but felt like hours – his chest burned, his breath came in bursts, there was a nasty stitch in his side, and his heart thudded so fast and hard that he feared he would develop a blood clot or have a heart attack or something equally as dismal. He forced himself to keep moving, before he realized belatedly that he hadn’t heard the sound of his best friend moving behind him for a bit.

Gus couldn’t help it. He stopped and turned, squinting into the deepening dark to see that Shawn was about twenty feet back, hunched over, arms wrapped around his bruised midsection, trying to catch his breath. He saw Gus, stood up and lifted his arm to motion him forward.

That’s when the sound of a pistol cracked through the air and Shawn went down.

***

The next twenty minutes were a blur. Gus managed to make it back to Shawn without getting shot himself and tugged his friend, already struggling to his feet, up, unthinkingly slinging Shawn’s right arm around his shoulder. Shawn yowled in pain.

Fueled by guilt and panic, Gus muttered hasty apologies, switched sides, and then somehow, miraculously, steered a clumsy, weak Shawn back into motion, dodging and weaving, staggering around roots. The trees were thinning, and the crackle of the leaves became less frequent under their feet. Ahead, Gus could see twin beams of headlights winding their way down the curving highway. Somehow, miraculously, they’d made it back to the road.

And he wasn’t sure if they were being chased anymore. Beside him, Shawn gasped in his ear, “Ditch… up ahead. There’s an overhang of ground. We can… hide there.”

Gus squinted toward where his buddy was pointing a shaky finger. Gus found himself once again staggered by Shawn’s insane eye for detail. He wasn’t sure if Shawn had just spotted the hiding place in the dark, or if he had noticed it earlier and recalled exactly where it was later on. Either way, it was impressive – not that he would ever admit that to Shawn. Even in the daylight, Gus wouldn’t have been able to tell it was there, but he dragged Shawn along with him, and there it was, a divet in the earth partially shielded by an overhang of grass and dirt, not forty feet from the road. He helped lower Shawn to the ground and winced in sympathy as a pained grunt forced itself from his friend’s lips as they wedged themselves into the pseudo-cave.

And just in time. Voices from overhead, the swing of flashlight beams darting on the ground in front of them, just missing their hiding spot.

“I can’t believe we lost them!” one man growled. His footsteps crunched on the dirt just above their heads.

“I told you they didn’t go this way – only complete idiots would head for the road, where it’s open!”

“Did you hear those guys in there, bickering like an old married couple about whether Milk Duds or Whoppers are better while we were threatening to kill them? They are idiots!”

Gus was offended. Also, on a side note, he’d totally won that argument. Whoppers were the clear winner.

“I’m telling you,” said another voice, this one female. This was the chick who’d knocked Shawn flat on his ass. And then dug her steel-toed boots into his sides. Gus felt Shawn tense beside him. Neither of them breathed. “I heard them come this way. The leaves make it hard to hide your trail.”

“There were so many people crashing through them that the sound was coming from everywhere,” growled a fourth voice. Another sweep of a high-powered flashlight. The beam barely missed Gus’s toes, and he resisted the urge to tuck his knees tighter to his chest. Even the smallest of movements could give them away. “Well, come on. Let’s check deeper in. And I know I got at least one shot on that loudmouth psychic. If they get themselves turned around in these trees, he’ll probably bleed out before they can get help, anyway.”

The voices moved farther away. “What about his friend?”

A sharp, biting laugh. “That guy will probably just die of fear as soon as he’s alone. Did you see him cry when we started whaling on the psychic? What a wuss.”

Although Gus could really not care less for what a group of criminals thought about him, the words still stung – probably because he’d dealt with such doubts about himself many times before. Shawn and Gus remained uncharacteristically quiet until the sound of the boots on dry leaves completely disappeared into the distance.

Shawn, unsurprisingly, spoke first. “Dude, we’re like Froyo in Lord of the Rings.” His voice was strained, and Gus could just make out the shape of Shawn clutching at his right arm in the dark. It wasn’t bright enough to tell if there was any blood, but he knew there would be.

“It’s Frodo, and you know it Shawn. I just made you watch the extended editions of all three films last weekend.” Shawn had complained loudly and often that it was the longest 18 hours of his life. But Gus had seen him scoot to the edge of the couch during the battle at Helm’s Deep.

For once, Shawn didn’t try to claim he’d heard it both ways, which worried Gus almost as much as the gunshot wound itself. “Yeah, I know.” A pause, then – “But I could really go for some Yogurtland frozen yogurt right now.”

Gus relaxed a little knowing Shawn’s good humor wasn’t all gone. “Tell you what, once we get out of here and get you to a hospital, we’ll get some Froyo. I’ll even buy.” He said it like it was something special, but with Shawn, Gus always paid. Then he got serious. “How’s your arm?”

The extended silence, broken only by a shuffling sound as Shawn tried to get a better look at the wound in the dark, set Gus’s nerves on edge. At last, Shawn answered, “Not too bad.”

“Shawn…”

“I’m serious, dude. It hurts like hell, but it went through the outer part of my tricycle.” In an overexaggerated British accent, he added, “‘Tis but a flesh wound!”

“Tricep, Shawn,” Gus said wearily.

“I’ve heard it both ways.” Shawn’s voice was strained and weary, but Gus couldn’t help but crack a tiny grin.

“Yeah, well,” he changed the subject abruptly, knowing that they were pushing their luck staying here if they wanted a chance to escape before those searching for them gave up on the woods and came circling back. “Come on, can you stand up? We’ve got to find a phone.” Their captors had taken theirs.

“There’s a diner about a couple of miles down that road,” Shawn managed, hissing in pain, as Gus helped him crawl out of their hiding spot and pulled him gently to his feet. Both of them remained hunched, trying to make themselves as small as possible, just in case. “It can’t be later than eight now. It should still be open.” His tone was wary, and Gus knew that he was vividly recalling the last time he’d been shot and had tried to call someone for help. He’d ended up in a worse situation than he’d already been in.

Gus patted Shawn gently on the back. “We’ve got two sets of eyes now. You’re not on your own this time. We’ll see it from a mile away if anything’s wrong. But first, we need to try to stop the bleeding.”

He sensed rather than saw Shawn bob his head in a curt nod. Exhaustion rolled off him in waves. Gus quickly removed his own jacket – at least it wasn’t his nicest one – and ripped the sleeve off. On TV shows, tearing apart a piece of clothing looked easy. Gus was sweating by the time he’d separated the garment into two pieces, and his hands had cramped up. He had to rely on the light of the moon – brighter now that they were out of the woods and not huddled in a ditch – to quickly but carefully wrap the sleeve around Shawn’s upper arm. He tied it, pulling tightly. Shawn barely managed to temper a cry of pain.

“Sorry, Shawn,” Gus breathed, eyes prickling at the sound of his friend’s agony, and the knowledge that he had caused it. He gave Shawn a couple of precious seconds to recover, but the bad guys could be back any moment. They needed to move. “You okay, buddy?”

Shawn managed another nod. Gus supported him as they made their crouching, tiptoed way to the road and walked along the side, hidden just within the treeline.

***

The hospital didn’t keep Shawn overnight, but they might as well have. It was nearly five in the morning by the time they trudged into Shawn’s dad’s house – Henry had insisted that Shawn stay with him; Shawn on painkillers was an unpredictable disaster waiting to happen if he were left alone. Shawn had been too strung out on the drugs and exhausted from all that had happened to him to do much protesting. He’d tried to argue but fallen asleep halfway through his third point (“I have leftover tacos in my fridge, and I know you sure as hell don’t. Home is where the tacos are.”).

It had been a rough nine hours. The trek to the diner had been slow and arduous, especially for Shawn, whose injury, despite being a flesh wound, bled through the bandage – it had taken all of Gus’s resolve not to puke at the metallic tang of blood in the air. This, in turn, made Shawn lethargic. Thankfully, the diner was still open, and nobody there was working with the criminals down the way. They’d thought they were renting the lake house for a family reunion or something. Shawn and Gus had made quite the spectacle staggering in, dirty, panting, Shawn’s right sleeve stained with blood. A couple paying for their meal gave Gus a cell phone, and they called Lassie and Jules. They didn’t make it to the hospital before Shawn was released, as they were taking care of the mess at the lake house. Around three-thirty, Gus got the call that all of the perps had been rounded up and that they were en route to the station for interrogation.

At least they didn’t have to wait in the waiting room. Gunshot wounds trumped most illnesses and injuries on the urgency factor. Gus had called Henry while Shawn was taken back to a curtained room, and they’d both joined Shawn as the doctor had just begun to stitch up the entrance and exit wounds.

They’d given him a blood transfusion and a hefty morphine shot, and kept an eye on him for the next several hours. Then, when they felt he was doing well enough, they’d packed him a goody bag filled with prescriptions, instructional packets on cleaning and caring for GSWs, pamphlets on recognizing infections, and a metric ton of gauze and bandages. A still-drugged Shawn raised his good hand and whooped on the wheelchair ride to the car like he was on a roller coaster (though Gus had a feeling Shawn would have done the same thing had he been completely sober). Between Gus, the amused nurse steering the hospital-themed ride, and Henry, Shawn had been bundled into Henry’s truck, and then Gus squeezed himself in from the driver’s side, and soon found himself wedged uncomfortably between his best friend and his best friend’s father.

Shawn had fallen asleep with his head on Gus’s shoulder before they got out of the parking lot.

And now they were at Henry’s, Shawn in a pile on the couch, nestled under a protective hedge of blankets and snoring softly. His right arm was bandaged and in a sling, strapped tightly to his chest. He’d be in the sling for a week, at least. It didn’t look comfortable, but with the painkillers, Shawn probably could have slept on a bed of cacti and been just as content.

Henry had insisted Gus stay the night since the Blueberry had been left at the lake house (if only they could have found the keys that had been taken from them before they’d made a run for it; none of this might have happened at all!). Gus graciously didn’t point out that the night was basically over at this point anyway. He wanted to stay with Shawn for a while and knew Henry needed to sleep. And he was holding out hope that Shawn’s dad might make pancakes when everyone was awake.

After double checking that his son was sleeping soundly and safe on the couch, Henry offered Gus a weary “‘Night,” and stumbled up the stairs to get a few more hours of rest. He’d been up all night, as had Gus. Shawn was the only one who’d gotten any sleep at all.

Even though Henry had offered to let Gus sleep in Shawn’s old bed, Gus stayed in the recliner, burrowing into the comfy cushions and pulling a throw over his weary body. He didn’t think he would be able to sleep, with the events of the past night swirling in his head. And then there lingering guilt, that question of if, in looking back, he had distracted Shawn, made him a target.

But he fell asleep almost at once.

***

He awoke to the smell of pancakes.

The Super Sniffer caught hold of the scent before his mind had even woken up, and he was sniffing hungrily at the air before he cracked his eyes open.

A laugh sounded from the couch, a bit weak, but instantly recognizable as Shawn’s. “You’re like that old hound dog from Lady and the Tramp,” he commented. Gus struggled to a sitting position, as the chair had made a valiant effort to absorb him while he was sleeping, and then glared at his friend.

“Pancakes, Shawn,” was all he said in rebuttal. He studied his best friend, who was lounging on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, a brazen move considering Henry was just in the kitchen and could pop in at any time. His face was still pale from blood loss and the remnants of pain the medicine couldn’t completely squash. His eyes had a glazed quality to them, and his arm was still strapped to his torso. But overall, he looked better than he had last night.

Gus extracted himself from the recliner and sat down next to Shawn on the couch, who had turned back to the TV. It was mid-October, so ABC had been playing reruns of the Harry Potter movies for the past few days. The Chamber of Secrets played out before them, and they watched it in companionable silence for a bit, with the occasional sound of clattering from the kitchen mingling with the sounds of the film. Gus felt the tension rising within him, though, as his mind wandered from Lockhart’s class on Cornish pixies to the way things had transpired the night before.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he muted the TV right as Neville was flown up toward the ceiling by his ears. Shawn glanced over questioningly. Closer up, he looked much more subdued and drained, and Gus could see the lingering discomfort in the tightness at the corners of his mouth and in the way he didn’t complain about Gus’s interrupting the movie.

“Shawn… listen. I’m sorry.”

Whatever Shawn had been expecting his friend to say, it apparently hadn’t been that. Shawn’s brows furrowed over hazel eyes. “Why?” A beat. “Are you going back on your promise of Froyo?”

Gus gave a half-hearted chuckle. “No, but… I didn’t listen to you. I stopped and turned back. And then you got shot. And I’m sorry.”

Now Shawn’s entire face contorted in befuddlement. “You think that I got shot because you… turned around?”

“You were right – I needed to run, to keep moving. You’d made yourself a small target while you rested, and you were doing a good job of catching up. If I hadn’t stopped and distracted you, if you hadn’t reached our arm out to wave at me…” He trailed off, guiltily.

For the second time in the ten minutes since Gus had woken up, Shawn laughed at him. “Dude, what is it you’re always saying about casualties not meaning coronations? You know, when I accuse someone without any evidence and you get all pissy about it?”

Gus rolled his eyes. “It’s causation does not equal correlation. It means that just because two things happen around the same time, one didn’t necessarily cause the other.” He was so used to correcting Shawn automatically that it took a moment for his own words to sink in, for him to realize what exactly it was that Shawn had done.

Shawn grinned, and though it was a bit muted, it was also infectious. “See?” he prompted. “You said it yourself. It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d kept running or not. I was in the line of fire either way.”

Gus felt some of the weight lift from his chest, but he couldn't get the scene out of his mind – Shawn yelling, Run, don’t look back! Gus stopping, turning around. The report of a gun. Shawn dropping to the ground. In that moment, Gus hadn’t known where Shawn had been hit. For all he’d known, his best friend could have been dead. And he couldn’t shake the instant replay.

Shawn nudged his leg against Gus’s, dragging his attention away from his glum thoughts. “Seriously, Gus,” he said, his voice even and lucid, despite the prescriptions he was currently on. “It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you at all. In fact, you’re the reason I made it out alive at all.”

The fist around Gus’s heart loosened its hold a bit more. He breathed in deeply. “Really?”

A troubled look flickered for just a moment in Shawn’s eyes. “I’ve been shot and on the run before, man.” Gus knew this, of course, and Shawn knew full well that he knew. But Gus stayed quiet and let him speak his mind. “And I gotta tell you – being alone is terrifying.”

“It was still terrifying with the two of us,” Gus argued blandly.

“Yeah, but,” Shawn said, studying the fingernails of his left hand like they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen. “I wasn’t alone, so.” He left off awkwardly, but Gus felt as if new life had been breathed into him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Shawn,” he said.

“Thanks, man.”

From the kitchen, Henry’s voice called out, “You two are adorable. Now get your asses in here before the pancakes get cold.”

Shawn and Gus grinned at each other, and Gus gently helped a woozy Shawn to his feet. On the way to the kitchen, he let Shawn lean on him, like he always did.

The pancakes were the best Gus had ever tasted. They tasted of chocolate chips, and maple syrup, and the sweet, sweet nectar of friendship.

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fishoutofcamelot · 4 years ago

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(for the ask thing) any book/tv show/movie/song recommendations?

BRO! I heckin got you man! Now, I’m gonna skip the song and book recommendation bit because that sorta thing isn’t really my scene. BUT! In terms of TV? My rec list is like a mile long. I’m gonna include a read-more line, actually.

BBC Merlin: You know I had to put this on the list. But the fact that you’re on my blog means you’ve probably watched this one, so I won’t go into detail about it. Available on Netflix

Mob Psycho 100: Just a cute, sweet story about a bunch of psychic kids trying to kill each other. A story with this much fighting has no right to be so wholesome. Mob is just a good boy, he doesn’t deserve all this! Fair warning, its messages about identity, self love, and growth WILL make you feel Emotions. Available on various anime pirating websites

Red vs Blue: The found family game is SO strong in this one. By far the best found family plot/dynamic I have ever and will ever experience. The characters are all so solid, yknow? Like it took me three rewatches to understand the plot, but I didn’t even care because I loved the characters SO MUCH. It’s also really, really funny (although some of the jokes have aged a bit poorly tbh). Basically about a bunch of space marines who goof off and accidentally dismantle corrupt governments along the way. Available on Youtube

Supernatural: Is it cringey? Yeah. Does the fandom suck? Also yeah. Is Destiel overrated? BIG yeah. But it’s got monsters, magic, family, and a plot that doesn’t revolve around romance - and really, what more could you ask for? And sure, a lot of people don’t really like the later seasons, but idk I actually prefer them. Season 15 has me THRIVING. I mean come on - character vs author?! Fighting the guy who literally wrote you into existence because he doesn’t want to give your story a happy ending?! Say what you will about Supernatural, but it’s one of the most imaginative shows I’ve ever seen. Available on Netflix

Avatar the Last Airbender: You like stellar animation, intricate worldbuilding/magicbuilding, and a perspective on war that is surprisingly mature for a kids show? Check it out. This show is without a doubt one of the best animated series of all time. Go on. Watch it. It’ll change your life. Available on Netflix

The Umbrella Academy: Time-travelling assassins. Superheroes. Ghosts. Talking monkeys. Murder mysteries. Baller soundtracks. This show will never give you what you expect. I don’t even think I could properly describe it to you. Available on Netflix

Detective Conan: An anime. It’s about a teen detective - think Nancy Drew but bloodier - who witnesses a crime and is fed an experimental poison in order to keep him from telling anyone. But instead of killing him, the poison turns him into a 6-year-old. So now he’s got to solve crimes and take down a criminal organization while in the body of a child. Naturally, shenanigans ensue. Fair warning, the main character becomes a bit of a Mary Sue in later episodes, but the first 300 or so are pretty fun. A few episodes are available on Netflix, but not any of the good ones. You’ll need an anime pirating website for that

Knives Out: My favourite movie ever, of all time. It’s a murder mystery that both subverts and pays homage to its parent genre in all the right places. It’s funny, it’s intelligent, and has a spectacular ending! Although I do wish the fandom would stop being so horny for Ransom, I mean he’s literally racist...No clue where you can find this tbh, I saw it in theatres

Derry Girls: Now I’m not normally a big fan of realistic fiction/sitcom stuff. Despite how funny they are, I’ve not even watched The Office or Parks and Rec because that normal daily life stuff just doesn’t peak my interest. And yet, somehow this story about a group of Irish high schoolers just has me enthralled. Very funny, very well-written, give it a watch. Available on Netflix

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood: Another anime. Phenomenal animation? Check. Fascinating plot and characters? Check. Detailed magic system that gets my lore-obsessed heart fluttering? Big heckin check. So basically two kids try to use Fantasy Science to bring their mom back to life, only the experiment fails and has some pretty nasty consequences - one boy loses his arm and leg, while the other loses his entire body and has his soul bound to a suit of armour. Now they gotta go through government conspiracies, ethical dilemmas, and Daddy Issues to try and get their bodies back. Available on Netflix

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K: Yet another anime. I know, I know, I’m a nerd, get over it. This show doesn’t have a complex plot or even complex characters, tbh, but what it does have is some amazing humour. It’s extremely funny, and it’s also just a nice show to kick back and relax to. Basically this guy who’s so op that he could rewrite the laws of reality on a whim is stuck dealing with relationship drama in high school despite being very, very asexual and very, very tired. Mostly he just uses his powers to avoid people and eat junk food, which is honestly a mood. Available on Netflix

Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated: Honestly I’d recommend almost anything that’s Scooby Doo-related because that was my childhood obsession. I used to have like 20 of the movies on DVD before my mom gave them all away. To this day I still love Scooby Doo, and watch it whenever I get the chance. But if you ask any SD fan, they’ll probably tell you that Mystery Incorporated is the best, most intelligent, most creative installment in the franchise. And they’re right (although I do wish there was less relationship drama...) Available on Netflix

Evil Genius: This is a documentary series about the Collar Bomb Robbery. Now, despite what the above list might indicate, I actually watch a LOT of documentaries, and if I were here to recommend all of them then we would be here all day. Not really ‘funny’ like the other entries on this list, it’s actually rather tragic, but definitely a cerebral viewing experience. Available on Netflix

Screwball: Now this is a documentary that IS funny. It’s about drug scandals in baseball. But the dramatic scene re-enactments are done with child actors that are all wearing fake beards and pretending to be drug dealers. It’s not only a fascinating subject, but it’s got amazing editing and visuals that have me in awe. Available on Netflix

Behind the Curve: Yet another documentary. This one’s about the rise of the Flat Earth movement. You’ll spend most of the time on the verge of having a stroke because of how stupid it all is. Available on Netflix

The Movies That Made Us: Okay okay okay last documentary on the list I swear. This one’s exactly what it says on the tin. It’s a series talking about the behind-the-scenes production of iconic movies like Home Alone and Ghostbusters. I eagerly await the second season. Available on Netflix

Monster Factory: If you’re familiar with the McElroy brothers and their brand of humour, you’ll love this. Griffin and Justin team up to make the most disturbing avatars they can create using video game character creators. The origins of the Final Pam meme. If I had a shirt with a quote from Monster Factory on it, I’d die a happy man. Available on Youtube

Baman Piderman: The dumbest show I have ever watched, but it’s so adorable and stupid and I love it so much. It doesn’t really have a plot, but later episodes allude to the presence of one and I’m upset because there are so many mysteries/questions hinted at and we’ll never get answers because it’s been abandoned. PLEASE watch it. Available on Youtube

Stranger Things: Okay, season 2 was a bit of a let-down imo, but season 1 was ICONIC and the Scoops Troop subplot in season 3 deserved its own freakin spinoff. I’m not joking. I didn’t even like s3 all that much, but the only reason it’s my favourite is because the Scoops Troop plot was so great. People call this show ‘horror’ but I don’t think it’s scary enough for that, although it is admittedly kinda spooky. If you like 80s nostalgia and the horror aesthetic, then I’d give it a watch (Do it for Scoops Troop. Do it for Robin). Available on Netflix

Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart: Despite my overwhelming love for this film, I’ll be the first to admit it’s kinda mediocre. The plot is weird and the romance feels forced, but despite its flaws it manages to be one of my favourite movies. Mostly I just like it for the unique concept and beautiful ending. Also the music is off the par man. Probably because the writer/producer of the movie was the lead singer for a French band called Dionysus (what? I do my research). Available on Netflix

Wakfu: I haven’t seen past season 3, but so far it’s pretty good. You go in thinking it’s just a wholesome action/adventure show about a kid who can create portals - but then it just. Sucks you in. From its bopping theme song to its fantastic found family to the unique worldbuilding, you very quickly fall in love with it. It’s got a cool plot and also talking dragons, and it doesn’t get better than that. Available on Netflix

Mystery Skulls Animated: Technically not a TV show so much as it is a series of animated music videos with a plot, but I’ll be damned if this isn’t one of the greatest things of all time. It’s basically Scooby Doo but if Shaggy got possessed by a demon and killed Fred, causing Fred to become a ghost hellbent on revenge-killing Shaggy in return. And if Scooby was an ancient Japanese spirit that bit off Shaggy’s arm, forcing him to wear a metal prosthetic. Yeah, MSA is wild. It’s only got three videos out so far, with a fourth one coming out this October, but there’s already so much lore! Available on Youtube

Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared: Ah yes, yet another cringey entry on this list. But you know what? Cringe culture is dead!!! And despite its fandom being...like that...DHMIS really is a cool show. Think if Sesame Street was like haunted or something. The episodes about creativity and telling time remain the most unsettling, imo. Definitely worth a watch. Available on Youtube

Inanimate Insanity: Oh boy. Am I seriously recommending you dip your little fingies into the object fandom? Yes. Yes I am. This show is so obscure it makes freakin Detective Conan look popular. At its core it’s a parody of Total Drama Island and Survivor but with anthropomorphized inanimate objects as characters (hence the name). Season 2 is actually really, really good and surprisingly competent. You just gotta get through season 1 first. Available on Youtube

The X-Files: Wow, a live action series on this list? Who woulda thought??? But seriously, this show is really fun. Memes and jokes aside, I love it. Scully and Mulder are fun characters with great chemistry (both platonic and romantic), the Lone Horsemen are hilarious, and every episode is a unique adventure into the most creative acid trips the human mind could conceive of. Phenomenal from start to finish (if you ignore the last season). I have no clue where you would watch this. Pirate it, probably

Buzzfeed Unsolved: Two idiots investigate cold cases and haunted locales while being utter dumbasses about it. You know the “hey demons it’s be ya boi” meme? That came from these guys. Available on Youtube

Kingdom: Ngl, I didn’t go into this expecting zombies. Or for it to take place during Korean feudalism, for that matter. But mediocre dubbing aside, this show has such a clever concept. It takes the zombie apocalypse genre and gives refreshing, unique twists to old tropes that they feel like something new. Seo-bi is my wife and she deserves all the love and appreciation in the world, and those are just Facts. Available on Netflix

My Hero Academia: Superhero high school anime. I personally am not a fan of later episodes/arcs, but the first three seasons are pretty dang good. Diverse, colourful ensemble cast that you easily grow to adore, interesting commentary on disability (although I’m not qualified to give any actual takes on that), and a school curriculum that makes me very, very concerned for the wellbeing of these children. Plus all the superpowers - aka ‘quirks’ - are super imaginative and, well, quirky! I just wish people would stop shipping the main character with his childhood bully...You’ll need to pirate this one too lmao

Danny Phantom: The highlight of this show is its ‘phandom’, because unlike someone (*cough* Butch Hartman), we’re not a bunch of cowards. It’s about a guy who messes around with his parents’ lab stuff and accidentally acquires the ability to die! Well, half-die. He can turn into a ghost and fight other ghosts. Although the show never explores the existential, traumatic fallout of being kinda-sorta-dead, the potential for something deep and emotional is there. Plus there is a LOT of accidental subtext for a Big LGBT+ Metaphor. So much so that the Trans Danny theory is basically canon. Uhhh not available on Netflix anymore so it’s time to whip out your pirate hat, matey

And there you have it! Like I said, I have a lot of TV recommendations. And I just KNOW I’m forgetting a ton, but this is already really long so we’ll have to cut off here.

Thanks for the ask! <3

#ask #fish post

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regrettablewritings · 5 years ago

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Podcasts, Youtubes, and TV Shows to Distract Yourself With Because Why Not, and Also Because I Wanna Blab About Some of These

Since I can’t go to work and horrify my coworkers/make them realize I’m a mess and/or nerd by telling them about the type of media I’m into, I’m foisting my recommendations on all of y’all who choose to read this. I frankly do not care how many people have actually heard of these things because I’m also sure there’s plenty of people who, like me, are very slow and oblivious to entertainment, or who have heard of the property but were never that convinced.

Kipo and the Age of the Wonderbeasts

Type: TV series

200 years after a mysterious yet earth-shattering event, much of humanity has taken to living beneath the surface in communities called burrows, wherein life goes on, if effected somewhat by the bizarre fauna that exists above them (referred to as “mutes”, short for “mutant”). One burrow girl, Kipo, founds her world turned almost literally inside-out when she finds herself not only separated from her father and the only world she’s ever known, but on the surface, no less. What ensues is her trying to find her way back home with the help of a stony-faced little girl with a massive chip on her shoulder; a music enthusiast and his literal gadfly friend; and some . . . unusual allies that only an oblivious optimist like Kipo could make. All to a kickass soundtrack, a beautiful backdrop of art, and a world where animals have basically evolved into gangs under a looming threat known as Scarlemagne. If you can’t already tell, I love this series to bits and now is the perfect time for people to get into it and encourage another season of it. Just . . . don’t think too hard that whatever happened to cause the Event in the show happened in October 2020 . . .

Available on: Netflix

My Dad Wrote a Porno

Type: Podcast

This should go without saying, but this podcast is definitely meant for more mature audiences. Or somebody with a strong stomach. Not that it’ll always be easy to tell with the type of content this series gives. When Jamie Morton’s father handed him his manuscripts for his self-published books, he had no idea he was being given a pinnacle of a polished turd: It was erotica. Really, really, really bad erotica. But the ear’s trash is the heart’s pleasure with this bad girl, as Jamie enlists the company of friends Alice and James to provide commentary on “Rocky Flintstone”’s series Belinda Blinked, a drama chronicling the sexcapades of Belinda Blumenthal as she climbs the ladders (and men and women) both in and out of the cut-throat world of pots and pans sales. What follows is a goldmine of awkward metaphors, strange bedmates, and just an overall stampede of whiplashing events that somehow exceed expectations. Listen in if you dare . . . And make sure you’re in good company for it. Fun Fact, though: Daisy Ridley, Ben Barnes, Lin-Manuel Miranda, Michael Sheen, Mara Wilson, Elijah Wood are but a few well-known fans of this series! Nobody is safe . . .

Available on: Wherever podcasts can be found

Lore

Type: Podcast

Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction. And what better way to be reminded of that, then to have the dulcet tones of Aaron Mahnke tell you about the lighthouse incident that the 2016 movie The Lighthouse was loosely inspired by? Suffice to say, this podcast could also be interpreted with some advised discretion, but definitely in a way that’s different from My Dad Wrote a Porno. In the centuries humankind has existed, we’ve managed to create a menagerie of beasts, both fictional and in ourselves. Lore explores all the many different kinds of events and persons and creatures we have to offer. In any given episode, we could be talking about anything from the bizarre story of a lady who convinced 18th century physicians that she was giving birth to rabbits, to something more disturbing like the life of H.H. Holmes. Or something as relatively innocuous as the relationship between gremlins and flight. Regardless of the subject, however, you’ll definitely walk away knowing something new, if bizarre. And perhaps slightly terrifying.

Available on: Wherever podcasts can be found

The Amelia Project

Type: Podcast

Congratulations: You have been made aware of The Amelia Project. If you’re not interested in this, exit the page. Now. If you continue, there’s no unhearing it. Good choice! A new interest awaits. If you don’t enjoy it, please consider the whole thing a hoax. Okay but in all seriousness, there’s no way to do The Amelia Project justice in just a simple description. The plot sounds quite simple, really: People want to disappear and start a new life, The Amelia Project is there to help – with a price. And that’s if you can actually get a hold of them! What really makes the show, however, are the people and the writing, and I’m not just talking about the almost childlike Interviewer with an obsession for hot cocoa. I’m talking about the clientele: I’m talking about the macabre-obsessed theme park owner who’s out for revenge; the cult leader who’s in way over his head; a Santa impersonator stuck in a miserable marriage with his own manager; an actual podcast character trying to outrun his creators. And obviously this would all be nowhere without the spectacular writing! I really can explain this series without blabbing on and potentially spoiling things; The Amelia Project is an experience!

Available on: Wherever podcasts can be found

LegalEagle

Type: Youtube channel

To be frank, I just like learning for the sake of learning, even if I may not always necessarily understand the topic or have any plans to use it in the foreseeable future. The big difference here being that at least this channel makes learning about the law fun and breaks it down. Headed by a certified lawyer (because what an age we live in, where professionals actually take time out of their lives to teach us common folk), there’s a multitude of series D.J. Stone uses to help break down the complex world of law, from reviewing the realism of procedural favorites (Law & Order, The Good Wife, HTGAWM, etc), to analyzing real-life situations, to even watching childhood media that has nothing to do with the law and determining how much money, say, Willy Wonka would owe in a lawsuit. In short, it is one of my worst subjects done in one of my favorite ways to learn! Plus, Stone hates business students and is perfectly willing to poke fun at law students so it’s all fun, frankly.

Available on: Youtube

Nando v Movies

Type: Youtube channel

Sometimes, movies are bad. Sometimes, they’re good. And sometimes, they could use a few adjustments in hindsight. Especially the nerdier movies where the directors may or may not have tried way too hard or way too little. And that’s where Nando comes in: Whether it’s explaining why a different villain might have worked better for a hero’s origin story movie, or analyzing how one seemingly small adjustment could’ve potentially made more sense in explaining characterization, this channel is always providing a new perspective on a movie or show you’ve probably seen and maybe weren’t necessarily too pleased with. (Or maybe you were – I enjoyed Justice League okay but I love the version he rewrote more.) Oh, yeah: Sometimes he does rewrites of movies or even series. So if you’re anything like me and you’re way into that, this is a channel you don’t want to miss out on.

Available on: Youtube

DEATH BATTLE!

Type: Youtube channel

Does anyone remember Deadliest Warrior? No? . . . How about that one time during lunch where you and your friend got into it over who would win in a death match between Superman and Goku? Good news: A buncha geeks did the math for you and have come out with the results! Specifically, hosts Wiz and Boomstick have analyzed the weapons, armor, and skills of each combatant in every episode, resulting in an ongoing series of absolute nonsense and satiation of bloodshed. The description is admittedly nothing crazy, but the amount of detail applied is honestly where it’s at: From calculating how loud Black Canary’s screams are to approximating Scrooge McDuck’s speed (I’m not kidding you), there’s actual thought put into the characters being assembled and how they might fair with their respective combatant. And it all comes together for an actual fight, often animated but always amazing. So if you’ve ever wondered if Thor could beat Wonder Woman, or if McGruff the Crime Dog stands a chance against Smokey the Bear (I’m…I’m being honest), then this is the show for you!

Available on: Youtube

Sideways

Type: Youtube channel

If there is music in that movie or show, it will be analyzed to a degree that, unless you’ve been trained in music, you would’ve probably never thought about. There isn’t necessarily much rhyme or reason to Sideways’ videos in terms of themes beyond music, but really, must they? Is it not enough that this man is screaming to the internet these wack and awesome trends he’s noticed in certain pieces associated with movies and musicals and the genius behind them? Could life not just be him explaining the symbolism of the instruments associated with the Crystal Gems of Steven Universe, or breaking down the cultures explored by way of the Black Panther soundtrack? Also, here’s a fun drinking game: Take a shot every time he mentions leitmotifs or the Dies Irae.

Available on: Youtube

Craig of the Creek

Type: TV show

In the woods of suburban Maryland, there exists a kid’s utopia: A place where horse girls are free to roam the fields, where a boy can be a king of garbage, and where children travel the sewers completely unsupervised. That is, until the dinner horn rings; then they have to go home until the next time they can return to The Creek. The show focuses on one specific trio (Craig, JP, and Kelsey) as every day, The Creek (and their own childish naivete) brings them new hijinks to experience. There’s a blissful lightheartedness to the show, in addition to a lot of creativity that feels like it was ripped straight out of your own imagination as a child (robots made from cardboard boxes, building portals using lights, etc). But beneath it all, there’s something just plain wild brewing. I don’t want to spoil anything, but CotC has some G-rated GOT shit going on the further along the series goes and I can’t wait to see how it all unfolds!

Available on: CN app, wcostream.com

And that’s probably enough for now, I think. Lemme know if you want any other suggestions, or how you’re findin’ ‘em if you take any of them up! Stay safe, stay healthy my dudes!

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cyn-00 · 4 years ago

Text

Moreid one shot, 16 - "light of his life"

This isn't inspired by any episode, although it is kind of a sequel to my One shot 6 (around seasons 7/8). For those of you who haven't read it/don't remember it, in that fic Morgan's sister Sarah mentioned to him that he should ask Reid to come over for dinner. It isn't an actual sequel - this is a one-shots series after all ;)

Also: in my magic, fictional world where Moreid is real, there's no such thing as hetero-normativity. I'll never spend time writing about Morgan and Reid's past coming out, or the others' reaction, or whatever. Sometimes you'll find references to the fact that they're hesitant to show affection in public but that's about it - and I imagine it's because they don't feel comfortable doing so in a working context, not out of being afraid of discrimination :)

This is the longest one I've written so far lmao bear with me ily. (future me says: wait until u read number 20. Oh, little did I know...future me also says: I added a couple dialogues and other stuff)

Read it on AO3

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

"Boy Wonder." Garcia's equally teasing and scolding voice came from the other side of Reid's phone.

"Hey Garcia" he greeted her, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.

"Were you not gonna tell me? Was I supposed to find out from JJ??"

Spencer sighed. He should've known better than to tell JJ about him going to Derek's family home for dinner. He took a wild guess probably everyone on the team knew now.

"I'm- I'm sorry, alright? I have no excuse."

"No you don't! Especially not the cliché excuse where you say 'I forgot' because your eidetic-memory-cute-little-butt would never forget about such a thing!"

Spencer chuckled shaking his head. "Fine but, now that you know, please don't tell me you called to say how 'cute' it is or whatever, because JJ thought of doing that already."

"...well...ok then, plan B. You genius managed to burst my little bubble of "aww how cute"s in a fraction of second."

"...sorry ? again." he said in a confused tone.

"Nuh-uh don't think for a minute that you got rid of me so easily. I have another million yet un-burst little bubbles of topics you and I HAVE to discuss before you meet your in-laws."

"My wh-"

"FOR INSTANCE your outfit." Penelope raised her voice to interrupt him before he could tell her not to call Derek's family his "in-laws", because it freaked him out.

"...well for that I could actually use a little help." Spencer replied, staring helplessly at his half unpacked go-bag.

"Wait...you DID bring something NICE, didn't you?"

No response from Spencer.

"Oh. My. God. I can't belive this. Spencer, could it BE more obvious? Derek being totally in love with you + mentioning that his family wanted to invite you over to dinner + case in Chicago?? So much for being a math genius, huh"

Still no response from Spencer. "Derek being totally in love with you". He was smiling so hard he thought Penelope could FEEL it through the phone. His brain got stuck to that point in her phrase - he didn't even bother wondering how she knew that Derek had already mentioned it a month or so before.

"...uhm, hello? Earth to Doctor Spencer Reid?"

"Yeah- I'm- I'm sorry Garcia it's really late I have to go, thank you for your precious advice, you're the best." he finally answered in a rush.

"Wh- but I didn't even GET to-" he hung up before she could finish the sentence.

That phrase from earlier triggered a sudden realization in Spencer's mind: Derek could probably not care less about what he was gonna wear. The important thing to him, was that he'd show up. And it was late, so he had to get it out of his head - it wasn't like some kind of breaking news that Derek loved him, anyway. Spencer knew it, deep down. Even if it was still hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that SSA Derek Morgan, the hot chocolate, the hunk, the ladies' man - pfft, yeah, right? - was in love with him.

That very thought escaped his brain only to make space for another one, just as paranoid, inconclusive and time-consuming: Penelope was right, wasn't she.

Derek always made time to visit his family everytime they had a case in Chicago, before going back to Quantico; it was a known fact amongst the team. Plus, the others didn't mind spending an extra half-day in the city to go out or - more realistically - crash in their hotel rooms.

So if you take that, and add the fact that Sarah had hinted to Derek to invite Spencer for dinner sometime; you get that Penelope was right. EVEN if Derek could've asked with a little more advance - instead of that same morning - and EVEN if, at the time Derek had told him about that conversation with his sister, Spencer hadn't really said a clear "yes". He hadn't said "no" either, to be fair.

Also, one would guess Spencer should've just been prepared for it, sooner or later, right? After all, Derek and him had been dating for... well, he wasn't quite sure. Not because he didn't remember: of course he remembered their first kiss, their first "date" - or whatever you call it when two people see each other outside of work - the first time they had kinda-but-not-really expressed their feelings for each other, the first time they had slept together. So, which one of those should he take in consideration to determine how long they'd been dating? Or maybe it was a matter of guessing an average out of all those parameters? Spencer had always had troubles trying to pinpoint that.

Anyway. None of those thoughts were helping him to decide which one of the 3 shirts displayed on the mattress he was going to wear that night. If not a whole "nice" outfit, he could've at least packed Derek's favorite shirt, just to be sure. He didn't even know why that was his favorite: it was just a pale lilac button-up. He said that the fact that it hung a bit too loose on his shoulders and arms, and had to roll up the sleeves once or twice, gave him permission to fantasize that it was his shirt, worn by Spencer - which, by the way: he could simply say he'd like Spencer to wear his shirts. He definitely wouldn't mind doing that. And ultimately, aside from this whole reverie of Derek's: it was still a damn pale lilac button-up a couple sizes too big.

Spencer checked his watch for the fifth time in the last 20 minutes: 7:15 pm. Derek was gonna knock on his hotel room door in 15.

He chose to keep it elegant but subtle, finally picking a blue-ish grey shirt, to pair with black jacket and slacks, trying to go with his gut - whatever that meant. Derek always told him to "feel" stuff. He probably didn't mean him to apply it to such a shallow thing like picking which fricking shirt to wear, though.

He quickly got out of his sweats and put the outfit on, looking at himself in the mirror.

Shit. The tie. The question wasn't even WHICH tie, rather: with or without tie?

Spencer came to the most logical and well-thought decision he'd made during that whole outfit-picking process: if he'd chosen to wear a tie, he would've had to spend another 15 minutes choosing which one. So, no tie. However, he wasn't used to not wearing one, so he tried not to stare too long in the mirror observing how strange he looked - and felt - without it.

He left the first two buttons of the shirt undone, and tried to un-mess his hair up - "c'mon I love your messy hair!", Derek's words popped into Spencer's head, making him giggle as he proceeded to put his shoes on.

He didn't even have the time to take one last look at the whole situation in the mirror, that he heard a knock on the door.

"Fuck." he gasped to himself.

"Coming!" he said as he quickly made his way to the door, jogging back and forth every 5 seconds to pick up pieces of clothing spread out on the floor and go back to squeeze them into his bag.

Derek waited in front of that damn door for what felt like 30 minutes.

He kept his eyes down at his feet and his hands in the pockets of his pants, as he tried to decipher the sounds coming from inside Spencer's room.

Much to his frustration, he spent the waiting time regretting having asked only that morning. He had actually done it on purpose to ask with little to no advance, so that Spencer couldn't say "no", knowing he'd be afraid to sound rude if he didn't accept. He didn't force him to do anything, though: Derek was 100% sure that he wanted to meet his family as his actual boyfriend - because he had met them a few times before, first as his co-worker, later as his best friend.

He was just trying to make the decision-making easier for him, coming to terms with the fact that he DID want to meet them a little quicker than he would have if Derek had asked him days and days before, hence had way too much time to think and rethink and go all paranoid.

Anyway, as it turned out, even that tactic had a couple of downsides: first of all, Spencer would've felt tenfold more nervous because of the lack of time to process the thing; second - which was a direct consequence of the former - it would've taken him a million years to get ready, leaving Derek out in the hallway for 5 minutes straight.

"Hey!" Spencer finally opened the door, nervously running his tongue in between his lips and adjusting his hair behind his ears. He also looked slightly out of breath.

"Hi" Derek greeted him back, smiling warmly. It took him a few seconds to realize what was standing in front of him. His man, looking handsome in those clothes.

He walked inside the room and turned around, watching Spencer as he closed the door. He gradually got closer and closer to him, forcing him to pull back until he was caged in between his broad body and the door, with no way out.

Derek placed a hand on his own hip and leaned against the door with his other forearm, just above Spencer's head. He bit his bottom lip in the attempt to stop smiling, staring carefully up and down at every inch of his boyfriend's fineness.

"How dare you" he murmured, knowing that Spencer understood perfectly that he was referring to how outrageously and disrespectfully good he looked.

"W- what are you talking about?" Spencer asked, playing dumb, courageously staring back right into Derek's deep eyes and not even making the slightest effort to contain his furious blush.

Derek didn't answer, instead he reached a hand toward Spencer's jaw, teasingly stroking his bottom lip with his thumb. He was inching closer definitely too slowly for Spencer's liking, to be completely honest.

Derek finally pushed his body against his, making Spencer's back produce a light smashing-like sound against the wooden door. He gasped in all the air he needed before making their lips collide dangerously, forcing a surprised moan out of Spencer's lungs.

"Mmhh...now... t's clear what you're...talking mm'bout" Spencer mumbled teasingly against his lips.

He wrapped his strong arms all around Spencer's body, as if it was threatening to fall on the floor, unravelling his hot tongue inside his mouth at last.

Derek's lips ran down to his jaw, allowing Spencer to catch his breath and his arms to finally grab onto him as his head fell back, hitting the door.

The second his mouth reached his ear, slightly biting his lobe, Spencer realized he couldn't take anymore of that without risking to rip off with his bare hands every single layer of clothing Derek was wearing.

"Ok w- wait, Derek wait a sec" he breathed out, unable to keep his eyes open and aware.

"Mhmh" Derek hummed unbothered, as the tip of his wet tongue brushed on the warm spot beneath Spencer's earlobe, before sucking it into his mouth.

"Ohw fuck- no s- seriously we're already late"

Derek suddenly stopped like Spencer had pushed a "OFF" button. He'd totally forgotten the reason why he got there in the first place, being so distracted by making his boyfriend's head spin and his body squirm uncontrollably.

"Holy shit. You're right." he said checking his watch, without pulling back from Spencer's body even a quarter of an inch.

After a few seconds of silence, while they rested their foreheads against one another to catch their breaths, Spencer spoke up.

"Believe me, I wouldn't have stopped you if it wasn't so important to me."

Derek distanced his face a little in order to look at him. "It is?" he asked with a sparkle in his eyes. "It's important to you?"

"Yes. I really want them to see us together like this." Spencer said smiling softly, caressing Derek's cheek.

"...well maybe not like this " the other answered chuckling, breaking the romantic mood Spencer's words and demeanor had set.

"Yeah right- you know what I mean!"

"I know." Derek concluded nodding, pecking at Spencer's already flushed lips one last time before letting go of him.

"It took me 30 minutes to come up with a decent outfit and you messed it up in 5, that's rude to say the least." Spencer said after a while, adjusting his hair and tucking his shirt back inside his pants.

"I'm sorry pretty boy, but you kinda asked for it." Derek justified himself, shrugging mockingly at him.

"...could say the same thing of you, though." he replied murmuring, not sure if he wanted Derek to hear him or not.

"What was that?" the other asked, even if having heard crystal clear, in fact.

"What?"

Derek snorted, inching once again very, very close.

"Baby, you're only making it worse, you must know that right?" he whispered with a smirk.

Spencer didn't answer, too busy looking at Derek's lips as he ran his tongue in between his.

"And, you're standing in my way."

Spencer frowned and shifted his gaze down, noticing Derek's hand was on the doorknob behind him: he was, indeed, standing in his way. He shot him a glare and stepped aside, so they could finally get out of the room.

The realization that they were about to have dinner with Derek's family as a couple fell onto him once again, out of the blue, easing whatever bit of heat was left inside his pants.

30 minutes later or so, they got to Derek's house. The car ride was strangely silent, probably because they were both nervous - even Derek was, a bit. He was just better at hiding it.

He parked the car and turned it off, deciding to wait a little before getting out. He looked over to Spencer, whose eyes were staring blankly at the small house outside.

"Hey," Derek spoke softly, placing his warm hand on his thigh in the hope to calm him down a little.

Spencer turned his head toward him as soon as he felt his touch, revealing quite an anxious look.

"It's gonna be great. And I bet I'm gonna find myself saying something like 'I told you so'." Derek tried to lift the mood, not needing him to say anything to gather what was troubling him. Still, he paused right after, letting him have the time to say it nonetheless.

"...what if they don't like me?" Spencer finally asked, his voice small and a little trembly.

"They already love you. I can guarantee you that."

"Yeah but I mean, what if they don't like me... this way? With you?" Spencer explained further, trusting that Derek understood what his main concern was. Which wasn't the possibility that they wouldn't like him as a person - because they did, as Derek said and as he already knew. It was the possibility that they wouldn't like him as his romantic partner. As his boyfriend.

"Spencer... they know already that we're together, you know that right? It's not news to them." Derek said furrowing his brows. "and they're not just 'ok' with it, they love it. This. Us." he added reassuringly, pointing between the two of them with his finger.

Spencer simply nodded in response, getting back to looking down at his knees.

Derek shifted in his seat to lean closer, moving his hand from Spencer's thigh to his chin to lift it.

"Baby look at me." he murmured. His heart swelled when Spencer followed the order, giving him puppy eyes.

"I love you. And they love you as much as I do. So they will love us too, for sure. Alright?"

"Alright." Spencer finally spoke, a shy smile on his pretty face.

"...I partly take that back though. Not possible for anybody else to love you as much as I do." Derek concluded on a cheesy note, winking and giving him his signature smile.

Spencer chuckled, refraining from face-palming and choosing instead to simply shake his head.

They finally got out of the car, after that 10 minute pep-talk. Derek made his way around it to reach Spencer, holding out his hand toward him.

Spencer looked at him, shifting his eyes back and forth between Derek's hand and his smiling face. He sighed, acting annoyed, when actually he thought it was very cute of him to decide they'd get to the front door holding hands.

He took it and crossed his fingers with Derek's, clenching it tight to try and lessen his anxiety.

When they arrived at the door - standing beside one another, but Derek a few inches ahead of him - Spencer inadvertently squeezed his hand even more the moment Derek rang the bell.

"Derek! My boy!" Fran opened the door only a couple of seconds later - she'd been probably waiting on them for quite a while - with a wide, shiny smile on her face. Each time he'd seen that smile over the years, Spencer got more and more convinced of whom Derek must have got it from. And he could only thank her for it.

A few moments after, Sarah and Desirée joyfully came to the door as well, the younger one clapping her hands and squealing a loud "yes!" as soon as she saw the couple holding hands. Spencer's whole body was blushing, but he was genuinely happy to be there, with Derek.

"Hey mama!" Derek greeted back entering the house, letting go of Spencer's hand to hug his mom and kiss her forehead, with a smile just as shiny as hers if not more.

"Oh, Spencer, it's so good to see you! Come here," she said closing the door, right before spreading her arms to hug him. She was so small even compared to his skinny frame, Spencer could only imagine how tiny she must have felt in Derek's strong arms.

"It's good to see you too, Mrs Morgan." he smiled back, a little embarrassed because, even if it was from his boyfriend's mother, it was still a hug after all.

"Oh please, don't call me that. You make me feel old!" she pleaded arching her brows, while the two greeted and hugged Derek's sisters as well.

"Old? You look younger than your own son!" Spencer joked.

"Uh excuse me, what side are you on now??" Derek replied, playfully messing Spencer's hair by untucking a strand of it with his fingers to let it fall over his face, causing him to scrunch his nose in that way. The others laughed affectionately at them.

The three women led the way toward the dining room, enveloped in a warm, homely light.

Spencer waited a second to sit down, letting the others choose their spots. Desirée and Sarah sat next to each other, asking that him and Derek mirror them; while their mom - who had temporarily excused herself to check on the food in the kitchen - was of course entitled to the seat at the head of the table.

Dinner proceeded serenely, between some small talk about their tough job and a lively laugh at some joke Derek or Desirée said. Anyone who had spent even just as little as 10 minutes in that house, could tell with zero doubts that those two where the pranksters of the family.

The food was so good, the company even better. No one had brought up any embarrassing topics, nor had made Spencer feel out of place or looked at him weirded out, whenever he'd thrown some of his beloved facts and infos in the conversation: he was struggling to believe it wasn't all a dream.

He used to always remind Derek how lucky he was to have a family like that, but he'd never stood by that statement so much like in that moment. And Derek had clearly noticed it, by how much he was enjoying himself.

At a certain point though, after God knows how many half hours had passed, when they had finished eating and were enjoying the faint inebriating effect of the wine, Sarah asked the question.

"So...since Derek has never really answered this clearly, and since your memory is kind of a big deal right? I'm gonna try and ask you..." she started, staring at Spencer with a grin on her face, keeping both him and Derek on their toes.

"...how did it happen?? Like, who confessed and when?"

"Sis we already talked about this!" Derek said face-palming, dramatically leaning back on his chair resigned to the fact that she would never stop asking until she was fed every teeny tiny detail.

"Shush! She's right, you never gave a legit answer!" Desirée added, coming to her sister's aid.

"Well, it's just fair that he hasn't given a clear answer because it's not easy to determine exactly when the 'confession' happened, cause there have always been a lot of...let's say mixed signals from both parts through the years, for lack of a better word" Spencer started. "but first of all I can safely say that Derek was the one who confessed first, and I guess that's kinda obvious being the confident, cocky kind of guy I think we can all agree that he is." he paused his narrative, turning his head to look at Derek's reaction while he accused him of being those things.

"Alright alright, I'll give you that. Keep going." Derek nodded smugly, shifting in his seat closer to Spencer to stretch his arm on the backrest of his chair.

"What's ironic though is, that it actually happened while we were FIGHTING, about a thing that happened on the job - which I'm not gonna elaborate cause I feel like 4 years, 1 month and 21 days later, he's STILL mad at m- hey! " Spencer got interrupted by a light hand-smack on his nape from Derek.

" 'Course I'm still mad at you, smartass!!"

"Alright, fair enough, point is," he cleared his voice in the attempt to stop chuckling. "point is, we had a big fight, and then Derek just...he just said it, out of nowhere." Spencer shrugged in conclusion to his story-telling, lowering his voice on that last bit, while drawing circles on the empty wine glass with his thumb.

There were a few seconds of complete silence, during which Derek stared at Spencer's perfect side profile, absorbed in that... life-changing memory he'd just brought back. "Life-changing" was the right adjective because he remembered very well that it hadn't been all good. But - seeing how things were now going between Spencer and him - certainly not even all bad. It sure as hell had changed their lives, though.

"See? It's not like I came dressed in white with a carriage and asked him to dance, lemme tell you we were fucking MAD at each other!" Derek broke the silence, speaking to his sisters.

"Alright, you could've just told us!" his mom replied among a choir of laughs, too amused by the comment to bother about the cuss that had slipped out of his son's mouth.

"Well I don't exactly strike as the dancer type, so with all due respect you guys could've easily ruled that out from the beginning!" Spencer added jokingly, supporting his boyfriend's thesis.

"You don't- what?? You asked me to dance just about a couple weeks ago at JJ's wedding, who're you tryna fool, genius??" Derek loved to joke around about that episode.

"But that's different! Slow dancing at weddings isn't dancing per say, that's common knowledge."

" 'common knowledge', blablabla, a'ight, we get it, you're the smartest in the room." Derek kept mocking him, rolling his eyes and air-quoting the words "common knowledge".

He reached his hand out to place it on the back of Spencer's head, affectionately running his slim fingers through his soft curls. "I'm still convinced you're a pretty good dancer." he added softly.

Spencer finally shifted his look from the glass to Derek's eyes, trying to hide his smile.

"That's not an unbiased opinion, though"

Derek's brows shot up. "Oh you're right, I forgot that you're my handsome, smart boyfriend for a second there. I do have a couple bias."

Spencer shot him a look that said: Jesus Christ, Derek. His cheeks could've easily melted like candle wax and he was about to fall off his chair from hearing that answer, so the stabbing glance was only fair - Spencer was clearly not yet worrying about the 100% worth probability of Derek later mentioning how "cute" and "adorable" his reaction and expression were in that moment. "You're lucky I didn't sprinkle that face of yours with kisses in front of everyone, pretty boy" he always said.

The three women didn't even try to interrupt that moment, absolutely struck by their chemistry. If anyone was still wondering how in the world two people so different like them could be a couple, it must've been because they hadn't yet seen a playful banter between those two like the one Desirée, Sarah and Fran had just witnessed. It was like watching a movie.

"Oh my! It's so late. You two should probably get back if you wanna get some sleep before your flight tomorrow." Fran pointed out half-heartedly, checking the clock hung on the wall in front of the table.

"You're right ma'. Though it's not like we get much sleep with this job anyway..." Derek added dry-wittingly and with a deep sigh, as he checked his own watch, too: it was around 10 pm. Not even so late if it were a normal day of work in Quantico, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. They had to drag their asses on the jet at 5 am the next morning.

Spencer was brought back to reality when they mentioned work, but mostly when Derek's warm fingers until then drawing patterns on his scalp abruptly pulled back; leaving him mentally complaining.

"Do you need help in the kitchen?" he asked Fran politely, seeing her standing up from her chair and starting to pile up the dishes.

"No baby c'mon, that's my job." Derek immediately dismissed the other's offer, before his mother had even had the time to do that herself; getting up too while subtly caressing Spencer's cheek with his knuckles.

The two managed to gather all the dirty dishes and glasses and cutlery in one run, and headed to the kitchen, leaving there a blushing Spencer - calling him "baby" in front of his family? Dear God - alone with Derek's sisters, in what he anticipated to be an awkward situation.

After an unsettling amount of seconds, Desirée's almost whispering voice breached through the silence, as if afraid of being heard from the other room.

"Ok so, the most important question now is-"

"Desi, come on!!" Sarah tried to stop her from asking what she was about to ask, lightly hitting her forearm with her hand.

"What?? You wanna know too, don't play innocent all of a sudden!" she lowered her voice once again, shifting her attention back to Spencer in front of her.

"As I was saying, question is... has he proposed yet? "

Spencer's brain stopped working - if that was even possible, for the genius with an IQ of 187. He should've expected such a question - should he, though? Really?? What the hell.

"No! No he- we've never talked about it, I don't- I don't know what he thinks of it, I don't even know what I think, to be honest" Spencer was having the hardest time putting his words together. If the topic had been marriage in general, he would've undoubtedly started blurting out statistics until everyone's ears were bleeding. But they were talking about Derek and his hypothetical marriage: he hadn't rehearsed for that one.

How was it possible that in all the years they'd been together, the thought of getting married hadn't even brushed his mind? Or Derek's? Was it a bad sign? Or maybe Derek HAD thought about it but was afraid of rejection? Wow. Yet another paranoid thought to haunt him now. Thank you, Desirée.

"But how's that possible?? You're literally the light of his life, I don't understand..." Sarah shared her thought out loud, crossing her arms and staring at an undefined spot on the table cloth, as if the lace embroideries could give her tangible answers to the question.

Spencer's smile was impossible to control now. He tried, he really did, but that night it seemed like they were all daring him to melt on the floor.

"Girls, don't steal him! I know he's pretty but he's MY pretty boy alright?" Derek's loud voice came from the kitchen, from where he could hear his sisters' bickering but couldn't decipher what they were saying - luckily.

Derek's comment was probably about the twentieth proof of what stated before - they were literally RACING on who would get Spencer's face to catch fire first.

Fran laughed at Derek's scolding, shaking her head.

"Well, for what it's worth, he really is gorgeous if you ask me." she said, finishing to wash the last fork and passing it to him so he could wipe it dry with a cloth.

"That makes two of us." Derek replied. "Actually a lot more than two, so I'm very lucky." he added, after being distracted by that thought for a few seconds.

"He's lucky too, you know? To have you in his life." his mom assured, affectionately stroking her son's shoulder with her small hand.

Derek sighed, finishing to dry the dishes out and rolling the sleeves of his button-up shirt back down to his wrists. "I don't know mama. Sometimes I feel like he's getting tired of me."

"Oh baby that's not possible, trust me. I've dated a bunch of guys when I was young, and the ones who looked at me like Spencer looks at you were the ones I had to dump because they never would have in a thousand years." she paused. "...until I met your father, and then we both looked at each other like that. Just like you two do." she concluded in a nostalgic tone, forcing a sad smile out of him.

"...have you asked him yet?" she changed the topic, after a long silence.

"Asked what?" Derek answered with a question, frowning.

"...to marry you? "

"What?? Mom, I don't know if- we've never even mentioned it- Jesus mama we don't even live together yet!" he replied, even more confused than before he got asked, trying to keep his voice low.

"Alright! No need to fuss like that! Take your time. But you should at least think about it, if you really wanna know what your mother thinks." she winked, before finally getting back to the other room, leaving Derek full of questions he didn't even know he had in the first place.

Spencer entered the small kitchen, holding Derek's leather jacket in his hand.

"You done?" he asked, handing it to him as Derek turned around to face him.

The man nodded in response, putting the jacket on.

"I wanna hear you say it." he then said, grinning at him with his arms folded on his chest.

"...say what?" Spencer asked, as if he didn't know what Derek wanted to hear, non-chalantly leaning against the counter.

Derek made a step closer, grabbing his jaw in one hand and trapping him between said counter and his hips.

"Just say it" he repeated, this time murmuring a few inches from his face.

Spencer tried to avoid his eyes, but it was almost impossible. Considering how he'd been kissed senseless against the door earlier in his hotel room, Spencer should've known better than to stand between Derek's body and whatever other vertical surface. He would never admit he didn't want to learn that lesson.

"...you were right." he finally confessed in a sigh, trying to contain his smile.

"Yes." Derek let out a whispered exult, before ultimately erasing that bit of space left between their lips. He cupped the back of Spencer's neck to prevent him from hitting the crown of his head against the metal handle of the cabinet above. Or to prevent him from escaping his mouth, whichever option one deems more realistic.

They kissed slowly and secretly, both struggling to stop the giggles and little smiles from interrupting it every 5 seconds, making it impossible for their tongues to keep prolonged contact.

The moment Spencer was starting to get carried away just enough to wrap his arms around Derek's neck, they heard an intentional fit of coughing coming from the threshold of the door.

They quickly and embarrassedly took their hands off of each other and turned around to face Sarah.

"Uhm, guys, it's starting to rain..." she said with a slight cringe on her face.

"Nice." Derek sighed. He took Spencer's hand and led the way out of the room and toward the front door.

They hugged and said their goodbyes to the three women, and Derek opened the door, letting Spencer out first.

His mom grabbed his arm before he could close the door behind his back. "Think about it." she mouthed, winking at her son.

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes in response.

When he stepped out and turned around, he saw Spencer looking blankly in front of them, sheltered by the porch, righteously frozen in spot and gaping: it wasn't simply "starting to rain". It was like someone from up there was literally pouring the whole Lake Michigan over their heads.

They exchanged a resigned look, before deciding unanimously to run toward the car, luckily parked only 30 ft away from the house.

"Shit." Spencer cursed under his breath when they finally got into the car, soaked from head to toe.

"Yeah" Derek agreed. "Maybe we can wait a lil until this mess calms down before heading back, what do you say?" he asked rhetorically.

"Most definitely." Spencer replied chuckling, tucking his wet hair behind his ears.

They stayed silent for a few minutes, listening to the relaxing sound of the water running down the windshield, making it absolutely impossible to distinguish the shapes of whatever was outside.

"So, uhm" Spencer broke the silence, interrupting himself immediately after to sigh annoyedly at his failed attempt to wipe dry his drooling-wet forehead with the sleeve of his equally wet jacket. He wanted to talk about that thing before he could lose any sleep over it.

"...your sisters asked me a question that left me...honestly, I don't even know if there's a word to describe my reaction in that moment." he continued, now pinching with his fingers the pants sticking to his thigh.

Derek's heart rate started to increase uncontrollably. He didn't say anything, letting Spencer finish, to have actual proof that he was gonna say what he thought he was gonna say; and just then, could legitimately freak out.

"Desirée asked if you had proposed yet." Spencer said straight up, still struggling to believe that he'd actually received such a question. "I didn't know how to justify the fact that neither of us has thought about it yet. I mean, should we have thought about it? Is it- is it an option? I don't even know I just- I don't know. I don't know what to think about this so please tell me that you have a vague idea of what to do with that question." Spencer finished talking, leaving Derek speechless. Now, he had the right to freak out.

Derek let his forehead drop on the steering wheel, chuckling to himself - he didn't even know where to start.

"A'ight, uhm...mom asked me, too." he finally confessed, pulling himself together just enough to sit up straight again. "I don't know if it was all calculated, but it wouldn't be surprising if it was, now would it?"

"Definitely not." Spencer replied laughing.

Derek cleared his voice and got a little more serious. "Of course I told her I didn't ask you to marry me... yet. I guess. Dammit, I don't know, am I supposed to know?"

"I don't know!"

"How are we even gonna talk about it if we don't know? She told me to 'think about it', think about what??" Derek was freaking out way more than Spencer was, which was the most unexpected turn of events ever.

"Ok Derek stop for a second." Spencer said in a soothing tone, turning slightly to his left to look at him better as he grabbed his hand. Derek quieted down and stared deep into his boyfriend's gentle eyes, entwining their fingers together.

"It's hard to picture it because of our job. That's literally the whole point. The only point, to be fair, cause- look, I don't know if I wanna get married, what I know is that I...I think I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life with you...you know? It sounds cheesy I know, but there's no other proper way to say it..."

Spencer's words calmed Derek down. He let go of his hand to caress the back of his neck, staring silently at him as his smart brain formulated the next things to say.

"and- and maybe, in the future, when the job and everything else falls into place...maybe we could consider signing a piece of paper, I guess. But the point is that if you asked me in this exact moment I'd say yes because- because yes, I want to be with you- but there's no pressure what so ever cause this is what I think and maybe I'm not making any sense to you right now and you don't ever wanna get married or...or be with me forever and- and it's ok, I'm just tryna figure my thoughts out-"

"Kid. It does. It makes sense to me, too. All of it." Derek was the one speaking sensibly now. He leaned closer and started to run his fingers through Spencer's damp hair to relax him.

"...do you want me to give you statistics about divorces within the first 3 years of marriage in homosexual couples?" Spencer asked after a few seconds of silence, though it wasn't so much a question rather an excuse to put a halt to the gears overdriving in his mind.

Derek burst into such a glee, beautiful sounding laugh, Spencer was on the verge of swooning. He swore if saying lame jokes was the way to hear that laugh 24 hours a day, he would've recorded himself saying them and played them to him non-stop. That was husband material, no doubt.

"Baby, you know I'm always here to listen to your ramblings, but I really don't think we should be discussing divorces before even having got married, what do you think?" the man said eventually, once his laugh had quieted down.

Even having predicted such an answer, the words Derek said and the way he said them didn't fail to make Spencer giggle and flush - a downside to his attempted teasings he'd found himself fall into a quadrillion times during the years. Another of many lessons he wasn't quite willing to learn.

After that, they stayed in silence for a while, staring into each other's eyes. From the sound of it, they noticed the rain had almost completely settled down.

Spencer timidly inched forward and laid a kiss on the corner of Derek's lips.

"I love you." he whispered, before placing his palm behind his neck to push him deeper into his mouth.

The moment Spencer pronounced those words and blessed him with one of his sugar-kisses, Derek started to contemplate that if spending the rest of his days with that man meant wet-making out in the car; and cozy family dinners, awkward questions included; and that sweet voice of his endlessly pouring his smart - oh, so smart - brain out to him at 3 am; and velvet tongue healing his bruised skin; and slow dancing even if it wasn't "dancing per say"; and feather-like fingers drawing goosebumps underneath his clothes; and being unable to stay angry at such a gorgeous face for too long - then he could've signed that piece of paper right there, right then.

When he woke up from that thought, Derek realized that the gap between their car seats that was keeping their bodies apart was starting to bother him. He pulled out of that tongue-melting kiss.

"We should get going now that it's not raining anymore." he said breathily.

Spencer nodded, swallowing the rich taste Derek's mouth left into his. "Yeah." he shivered. " 'm starting to get cold..."

Derek started the car, smirking as Spencer's words prompted a very specific thought to crawl its way into his head.

"We could keep warm actually doing that thing we were about to do earlier in your room."

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ill-skillsgard · 5 years ago

Note

Henry D finally opening up about all his fantasies that had been suppressed for so long, wining and dining her before shyly asking if she would want to try😳 What do you think his fantasies would be? Anal, car sex, maybe even slightly public?

Warning: 18+ sex/anal sex/mature subject matter/cheating. Please read at your own discretion

Disclaimer: All characters mentioned are based entirely on fiction.

Read more Henry x Mistress here.

Okay, so I took this is a slightly different direction. It felt right to do it this way. Be warned, this part does contain anal sex to a degree. So, if you’re not into that kind of fun, this part might not be for you!

I dedicate this week’s episode of His Mistress to a couple special people. The ones that see my worth and let me make terrible music recommendations to them and let me go wild with their ideas. You know who you are. This one’s for you. Kisses!

Shoutout to @micheallangdons for making the gif above!

First Times

In your new professional world, you were no stranger to first-times. He smiled at you the first time you ever made the copier work without having to ask somebody else for help. Your favour from Henry’s clients earned you a special night of dinner where you ate and subsequently detested caviar for the first time. You scheduled your first meeting successfully. You spoke to Henry’s lawyer and also found out the name of the woman that was still wed to him in the eyes of the law. Her name was Mary.

After the night of caviar and much too expensive wine, Henry brought you home without asking if he could. Things were aligning, and Henry knew that you wouldn’t want to go back after such a lovely evening. Your heart was still alight with the memories of soft piano keys and low candles. Henry held your hand on the drive home and only let go when it was time to get out of the car.

When you were both settled into his bed with the TV on in the background, you sighed.

“What’s up, gorgeous?” He asked you.

“Oh, nothing,” you sang, for there surely was nothing up beside your spirits. “Why don’t you tell me something about you I don’t already know?”

“There are probably many things you don’t know.”

“So, tell me anything.”

Henry chuckled, reaching out to graze your arm and smooth his thumb over your skin absently. “One time, when I was ten years old, I broke my wrist, trying to climb onto the roof of my friend’s house. His dad had to take me to the hospital. I remember my dad being so worried until he found out how I’d broken it. Then he said I deserved the lesson.”

“And did you learn your lesson?”

“Well, I certainly haven’t been known since to climb on rooftops, so I’d say yes.”

You tittered at the trivial sweetness of the story, but you craved something more profound. Something darker. If you would spend most your time with him, you had to know more. You wanted to know it all.

“Tell me something that nobody knows about you,” you pried.

“Hmm,” he tapped the faint dimple on his chin, incongruous eyes raising to the high ceiling above the bed. “I might have to think about that.”

“You can’t tell me you have to think that hard about a secret.”

“What kind of secret? I don’t have any secrets!”

You narrowed your eyes at the licking little lie that fell from his lips. He rolled his eyes knowingly. “You will not be a secret for much longer.”

“Sure,” you said sarcastically. “That’s not what your lawyer said.”

“What did my lawyer say?” Henry tried to pass his curiosity off with a chuckle.

“He said this settlement could take a long time if Mary decides to make it difficult.”

“Jeeze,” Henry’s eyes rolled again. You pushed him gently, assuring him you weren’t angry. “Knowing her, it will turn into a real rodeo.”

“Yeah, she’s going to ride you like a bull.”

“Hey! You don’t get to solidify my anxiety over this! You’re supposed to be the one keeping me from blowing my head off.”

A short silence proceeded. You took in a deep breath and punctured the quiet with another question. “Do you think she will actually come for your neck? Try to get it all?”

“I hope not. I don’t see why she would. She might be icy, but I don’t think she would want to see me penniless.”

“So, have you had enough time to think of a secret to tell me?” You asked.

“Not really. We’re talking. Why don’t you ask me things if you’re suddenly so curious about my past?”

You sat up excitedly, readying yourself to sling all sorts of questions at him. Henry saw the eagerness on your face and gulped. “When was your first kiss?”

Henry laughed nervously. “Uh… Sixth grade? A girl named Cheryl.”

“Cheryl? Man, people from your generation have such old people names.”

He placed his hand on your knee and shrugged. You continued since Henry seemed open to being interrogated, and you weren’t sure if he would ever let you do it again. You saved the more intimate questions for when the waters were thoroughly tested. Henry had a shy side to him that could be easily uncovered, but you didn’t want to spoil your fun by making him clam up too soon.

“Okay… What about the first time you ever saw a girl naked? Besides your mom.”

“Ew! Can you not?”

“Sorry! Just answer the question.”

Henry scratched under his eye, tucking his bottom lip under his front teeth. With a shake of his head, he gave another shrug. “Maybe the first time I ever had sex. But I’m sure she probably had some clothes on still.”

“And here I thought you were a good Christian boy!”

He laughed heartily at your remark and squeezed your thigh after he recovered. “Oh, dear God, no. I’m nothing of the sort.”

You looked at him slyly and reciprocated the grip on your leg by stuffing your hand between his thighs too. “Don’t I know it? You naughty, naughty boy.”

“Oh, no. We’re not playing naughty boy!”

“Why not?” You groaned.

“Because I always get spanked, and I don’t trust you around my ass.”

“Wise man. Smart of you not to trust me around that fine tail.”

“Shut up,” he blushed hard and toppled onto his back. You seized the moment to climb on top of him and use him as a full-body pillow.

“Okay, here’s one. Tell me about your first blowjob.”

“No, let’s not talk about that.”

“What! Why not? Was it weird? Did she use teeth?”

“There were no teeth,” he chortled. “I just don’t want to tell you who it was.”

“Your wife?”

Henry gave a hesitating nod. The revelation didn’t allow you relaxation.

“Wait… You mean to tell me that you’ve only been blown by two women in your entire life?”

He shrugged again, unashamed this time. “I had girlfriends before her, but I’d never let them… Do that. It’s so degrading. And I could never ask.”

“You are a good Christian boy, aren’t you?”

“No! I’m just respectful.”

You leered up at him. “Is that why you hate it when I give you blowjobs?”

A pair of strong arms wrapped around you, throwing you over to the other side so you were face to face again. “I do not, I repeat, do not hate when you s — you know. Go down on me.”

“Say it,” you whispered.

Henry shook his head rapidly. “Nope. Nuh-uh.”

“Yes! Say it.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to hear you say it.”

“Suck my cock,” he closed his eyes to hide from his own bashfulness.

“Say that you love it.”

“I love it.”

“No. Say that you love it when I suck your cock.”

“I love it when you suck my cock. But that doesn’t mean I want you to right now!” He blurted.

You shifted closer to him and gave him a teasing nibble of a kiss. “You’re so sexy, Mr. Deaver, and you don’t even have to try.”

“Hush,” he pressed four fingers to your lips, but you only kissed them until he took them back.

“Have I been your first for anything?”

“First time I had sex in a car. The first time a girl’s ever flashed me on an airplane. First time I ever fell in love with a person that felt like the Earth was crushing my skull.”

“Wow, you’re so sweet.”

Henry kissed you hard, and you felt the urge to defy his wishes to not sink below the sheets covering his hips. It wasn’t a matter for long. You knew once you got him a little worked up, he wouldn’t have any problem with you pulling his underwear off. He simpered against your mouth when your hand went travelling. Before you could work your fingers under the waistband, he inched away to avoid the contact.

“I don’t like that you don’t like getting blowjobs,” you told him.

“I know. I’m sorry. I had it beaten out of me.”

“Well, let me beat it back into you using my mouth.”

“Good god, you’re always so dirty.”

“I want you to accept that eventually.” A severe tone came over both of your faces. He searched your eyes for a clue, but couldn’t seem to find one until you sighed through your nostrils. “I like sex, and I know you think I’m only saying that because I want to impress you, but that’s not the case. I want you to be more open with me, okay? I’m not like her. I’m not going to make you feel disgusting for being aroused and wanting sex.”

“I know. I know.”

“I don’t think you do,” you explained gently. “I’ve told you a dozen times that you don’t have to treat me like a nun. You can be the boss outside of work too.”

“Maybe I like it when you’re the boss,” he tried to cloak his smile with the back of his hand, but you saw the mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“I’m not sure if you’re ready for what happens when I’m the boss. That means you have to do as I say.”

“I can do that,” he nodded.

“No, I don’t think you’re capable of handling the responsibility. You have to be very, very open. And you have to do whatever I say, even if it’s something you’ve never done before,” you were already crawling down Henry’s body by the time you reached his groin and looked up at him.

“Something I’ve never done before? Like what?”

“Like letting me eat your ass and finger your prostate.”

“What?” He squeaked, cheeks turning bright as neon.

“See? You’re not ready.”

He clutched at the sheet covering the bed and gave you a wary look. “But… It’s… What about? Jeeze.“

“What about what?”

“Hygiene?”

“You just showered before you got into bed.”

“So? What about hair?”

“Hair? Do you think if I’m willing to tongue fuck you, I’d care about a little body hair? Please.”

If he could make it happen, Henry would have melted into a puddle and absorbed into the linen so your intense gaze would stop penetrating the layers of his self-control. You waited for him to say something, but it became clear that he had been robbed of words. You decided to hold the reigns a little tighter.

“You’re not ready for me to be the boss. You’re not ready for the world’s most mind-blowing orgasm.”

“Pretty sure I’ve already had that, courtesy of one filthy little girl,” Henry’s eyes trailed away in contemplation. “What does it feel like?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t have a prostate or balls or a dick. But I know how to work all three to make an obscene amount of cum leave your body.”

“I just don’t think I could come with your finger in my ass.”

You scoffed, pressed your forehead to his tummy and kissed just above his waistline. “Oh, my sweet, sweet little Christian boy. The worlds you have yet to explore.”

There was a hint of trepidation left on his face as you rolled the waistband of his underwear, nuzzling into his groin. You pulled the cotton material down, and he lifted his knees to help you along. In no time, Henry’s firm muscles relaxed as blood rushed down to fill him up. You took your time with him, attending to every inch with fervour until his head plastered to the pillow, and his jaw hung wide open. Then you sucked one testicle into your mouth for a short roll, assessing whether he would be receptive to it. By the way his knees shook, you discerned that the sensation had taken the proper effect.

“Like having those balls sucked on, don’t you, Mr. Deaver?”

“Y-yes,” he murmured.

“Doesn’t that feel so good?” Your rhetoric had him nodding his head.

You encircled his shaft with one hand, angling him up and away from you until more of him was exposed. He caught on quickly and tried to close his legs. “Don’t worry, just going to press on that spot just below. Not too low. Oh, that’s right. Open your legs and get comfy, big boy.”

“Christ,” Henry whined, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“If you ever want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Don’t stop,” the words leapt from his mouth.

Henry became tight again until he grew used to the feeling of your thumb pressed up against his perineum. As you bobbed your head up and down, you worked a small circle of firm pressure there until he pulled back one knee to watch for a moment.

“You can watch, it’s okay,” you whispered against the head of his cock.

When your head disappeared, and he felt a strange wet prodding, he jerked away but settled to assess the feeling accurately. He didn’t understand why it felt good, and that confused him. But it was you down there, and that was why he wasn’t panicking yet. Only when your hand crawled closer to his entrance did his stomach sink and his lip wobble.

“That… That's—mmm,” Henry melted when the tip of your tongue pushed a little harder.

You resisted a laugh and focused on the task at hand: the trifecta you had promised would make him forget his own name. With your hand gripping his shaft firmly and your other hand sneaking its way up, you pulled back and let a watery bubble of spit fall down the crevice to lubricate your short path. You were thankful for cutting your fingernails earlier as you finally gave his hole a slight press. Henry’s hips tilted, and he rose his head off the pillow to make sure you were still you and not a dream.

“Yeah, relax, big boy. Let me get in that tight hole. I promise you’ll love it.”

The push started slow. His teeth cut into his bottom lip hard and then released the moment the first half-inch of your finger made an entry. He was warm and inflexible at first, but after a few loving strokes of his cock, he slackened the muscles in his arms and legs. You ventured a little deeper, curling your finger up and letting him grow used to a little more.

“Oh, my. Look at how hard that dirty cock is now!”

Henry felt an equal wash of shame as he did arousal. He was ashamed that he found it so arousing, but all ulterior thoughts melted away the moment you rubbed a firmer spot inside of him. You concentrated on it but didn’t apply too much pressure. Not until he was ready. Not until he was begging for more.

“Please… Please, god, do something. Touch me.”

“I am touching you,” you winked.

“Suck my cock, too.”

“That’s a good boy! I like it when you tell me what you want.”

You throated his entire length but never neglected the hidden button inside of him. You rubbed slow circles around it, worked it up and down and side to side until Henry was throbbing, one leg stiff while the other bent at the knee.

“Jesus Christ, that feels so fucking good, baby. Jeeeesus.”

“Mm, I know it feels good. I knew you’d like having that gorgeous ass played with.”

“I’m going to come. Hard. I’m going to fucking—” Henry was cut off by another undulating moan culled from the precise attention you gave his prostate. “Baby! Keep doing that. Oh, God. That’s amazing.”

“Yes, come hard, Daddy. Shoot that fucking load.”

Henry’s fingers combed through your hair and held your mouth in place while his hips bucked. It was a move that he never felt comfortable executing before. It went hand-in-hand with his aversion to blowjobs. But something told you that Henry would start asking for a lot more of them soon.

His body tensed up only to melt, twist, and then relax. He chewed his lip, panted, rapidly blinked like he was about to cry and covered his mouth with the one hand that wasn’t clutching the bedsheets.

“Give me that bad boy cum. I want it all.” Your final encouragement was the last thing he needed to hear before he tightened and exploded.

You were amazed by what didn’t make it down your throat. Henry’s orgasm tore through his body like a lightning bolt and leaked from the swollen tip in pulses. Each ripple forced out another thick drop of cum, and you didn’t unsheathe yourself from him until you were sure you witnessed the last bubble glistening down the underside of his cock.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” Henry said between deep breaths.

“Told you I could make you leak like a faucet.”

“That was… That was insane.”

You smiled, assuring him you well knew of your sexual prowess over his body. He reached for you to lie on him, and you obliged. Once you settled next to him and got comfortable in the space between his arm and torso, he kissed your head. Another long breath left him that tickled down your spine, and you both giggled.

“I am your slave. You are my goddess. I can’t believe that really happened just now. Wow, I swear I can’t feel my hands.”

You cozied up to him, a broad smile unbreakable on your face. “That was your first prostate orgasm. Congratulations!”

#henry deaver x mistress #henry deaver fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #castle rock fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 4 years ago

Text

Shadow Over Seventh Heaven Review, Part I: Last Night I Dreamt I Went to Maljardin Again

Once, April Tennant had been the greatest screen star of all. Even now that this stunning creature was gone, the victim of a hideous accident, her name still cast a magic glow. And nowhere was her haunting spell more alive than within her great walled estate of San Rafael.

It was here that April had lived in her storybook marriage with famed actor Richard Morgan. It was here that her memory was worshipped still. And it was here that lovely young Jenny Summers came as Richard Morgan's new bride--to discover the terror behind the tinsel in this place transformed from a paradise of the living to a hell of the undead.... (inside front cover)

Welcome, fellow Strangers and all others who happen upon this post. This week, I have decided to begin a new series exploring the Gothic novels written by co-creator and first headwriter of Strange Paradise, Ian Martin, under the pen name Joen Arliss. Mostly, the purpose of this series will be to compare the plot and characters of Strange Paradise and those of his novels and what that may indicate about his original intentions for the overarching story of the soap opera.

I got the idea to start this series while writing my review of Episode 26, after the contents of an article referenced in one of the scenes reminded me of the events in this book. On his now-defunct website Maljardin.com, Curt Ladnier covered some of the similarities between “Here Goes the Bride,” the CBS Radio Mystery Theater drama from which this book was adapted, and Strange Paradise, but I wanted to dive deeper and do one of my characteristic overanalyses. So fly with me to the grand southwestern estate of San Rafael and together let’s explore Shadow Over Seventh Heaven--and let me warn you, there will be spoilers for the entire Maljardin arc of SP.

As noted above, Shadow Over Seventh Heaven is an adaptation of a radio drama that Martin wrote for CBS Radio Mystery Theater. CBSRMT is, perhaps unquestionably, Ian Martin’s most famous work. Created by Himan Brown in 1974 and running for 1,399 nightly episodes, Martin wrote a total of 243 (including many adaptations of literary classics) and acted in 255, typically in supporting roles. He continued writing and acting on the series all the way until his death in 1981 at the age of 69. Given my tendency to procrastinate, which sometimes makes it difficult to write just one episode review a week even when I’m not busy, I envy him for being such a prolific writer. I suspect that all the soap scripts he wrote got him into the habit, and he just couldn’t break it.

Even more extraordinary is that he wrote and published five novels during the same period that he worked on CBSRMT. His first was Nightmare’s Nest (1979), an adaptation of the CBSRMT play “The Deathly White Man” (and not the other drama, also by him, of the same name), which is his answer to Jane Eyre and which also has some interesting connections with SP which I plan to explore in another review series. Next came this novel, and then Beloved Victim (1981), adapted from “A Lady Never Loses Her Head,” which I don’t recall having anything noteworthy in common with SP, but I may need to re-read it to make sure. He also wrote two mystery novels, The Shark Bait Affair and The Ladykiller Affair, for the Zebra Mystery Puzzler series, but those are both very rare now and I haven’t yet read either, so I can’t say anything about them. The book Mystery Women: An Encyclopedia of Leading Women Characters in Mystery Fiction does, however, provide some information on their protagonist, Kate Graham, along with short plot summaries. As someone with two trunk novels from the last decade and about fifty pages of a third--which I mostly stopped working on after I started this blog--I also envy him for this. How on Earth did he find the time?

But I digress. Like that of “Here Goes the Bride,” the plot of Shadow Over Seventh Heaven draws heavy inspiration from Daphne du Maurier’s famous Gothic romance Rebecca, but with some major differences in plot and characterization. The novel fleshes out the radio drama some more, adding additional details and plot twists that aren’t present in the original play, which arguably make it more interesting. One gets the impression that he had a lot of story in mind while he penned the original drama, but knew he could only squeeze so much into a 45-minute radio play and so had to leave many of the most interesting details out.

But that’s enough background information. Let’s begin our analysis and see what Ian Martin’s later work can tell us about his original intentions for Strange Paradise.

Introduction

The face is lovely, matchless....

Opening like some gigantic and exotic flower as the camera zooms in...

It fills the screen, flawless, enticing....

The lower lip glistens, pulled away from those perfect teeth, trembling ever so slightly, promising undreamed-of delights for the man brave enough to taste its forbidden fruit....

The skin glows with an inner light....

The eyes beyond the thick fringe of dark eyelashes shimmer with the deep violet of a tropical night....

The pitiless exposé of the camera is defeated, no matter how close it probes in close-up....

This is beauty without blemish....

This is everyman's dream woman--sex symbol of the nation, and most of the world....

This is April Tennant!

Strange to think of her dead, for on the screen she is captured forever in all her vibrancy and stunning beauty....

Impossible to think of her lying, mangled and bleeding on the rocks, while the hungry sea licks out as if to possess her.

Incredible to think of her cold and in the grave. Which she has been for twelve months--or this story never would have begun (p. 5).

The first page of the novel introduces us to April Tennant, this novel’s Rebecca and also its Erica Desmond. Like Rebecca, she is the first wife of the protagonist’s love interest, whose tragic death will cast a shadow over her former estate. Like Erica, she was a famous actress--probably more so than Erica ever was--but the cause of her death is not the same as the alleged cause of Erica’s. In Episode 5 of Strange Paradise, Erica’s grieving husband Jean Paul claims that she died of eclampsia while pregnant with their son, although evidence uncovered by other characters in later episodes leads them to contest that claim. Instead, April’s death resembles that of Huaco, the wife of Jean Paul’s ancestor Jacques Eloi des Mondes who died when she fell from a cliff on Maljardin, Jacques’ island estate.

In this introduction, we also see what will become a theme of the novel: gaze. Not just the male gaze--the obvious POV of the introduction--but, more generally, the viewing of April Tennant almost exclusively through the eyes of other characters, both male and female. We never learn much about her inner life, even as we learn those of Jenny (our protagonist), Richard, and others. April is largely a mystery, a larger-than-life figure of ideal beauty who, in the eyes of the public, is more a legend than she is flesh and blood. It’s the same mystique that surrounds celebrities in real life that often makes other people forget that they, too, are human--if, indeed, that’s what April was. Or is there more to it? I guess we’ll have to find it.

Chapter 1

The first chapter begins with a detailed description of San Rafael--and by detailed, I mean that Ian Martin spends one and a half pages describing its wall, followed by two on the mansion itself. I won’t type out too many passages from this book for copyright reasons--for, unlike Strange Paradise, this book is still under copyright--but I will include some highlights. The wall surrounding the castle “was thick enough at the bottom to withstand any tremor of the California earth...topped by a corona of jagged broken glass and it ran for a mile and three-quarters in a great semicircle away from the rocky Pacific coast and back to it again” (p. 6). On its gate,

The ironwork swept and swirled in great balanced curlicues, and the frame was heavy and studded. The studs held great sheets of blackened steel, heavy enough to withstand a battering ram, blocking any vision of the grounds the wall concealed. And the vertical members of the scrollwork reared high above the frame of the door and the top of the wall in a bristling array of spikes, sharp as swords, arched forward to further discourage any hardy trespasser who might try to climb their height (pp. 6-7).

In case you haven’t already figured it out, Martin loved his purple prose. If you don’t like Byzantine descriptions of architecture, ironwork, clothing, or anything else, you probably shouldn’t read this book or any of Martin’s other novels. (Nightmare’s Nest is far purpler, however, than this one. There’s an entire chapter in there devoted to describing the protagonist’s lush Edwardian finery.) Fortunately for me, I love this kind of thing and will gladly devour description after description of gates covered in iron curlicues. My literary tastes tend toward “more is more” and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

We learn that San Rafael is a reconstruction of an old Spanish mission, commissioned by April and built in part by Richard himself, “who personally took charge of putting in all the glass that fronted on the sea.” The gardens that surround it give it “a riot of color--bougainvillea, hibiscus, passionflowers, trumpet vines--all enhanced and set off against the majesty of rows of carefully spaced Italian cedar, or Lombardy poplar” (pp. 7-8).

Despite all this radiant beauty--and as one might expect for reconstructed ruins from the era of Spanish colonialism--the estate is believed to be cursed, at least by “the superstitious peons who built the walls” (p. 9). (That’s what the book uncharitably describes the Mexican builders--some parts of this book haven’t aged well, as you will see.) Two men died while rebuilding it, followed by April herself around a decade later.

Surprisingly, we learn at the end of this chapter that Richard Morgan’s background differs from that of Jean Paul Desmond. An actor himself, he “was king of the theater, and of East Coast entertainment. Their marriage was a royal one, and it vaulted both of them to new and undreamed-of heights of popularity” (pp. 9-10). It was this popularity that drove them to wall themselves in at San Rafael and use the police and guard dogs to keep rabid fans and paparazzi away--which, ultimately, didn’t work and only led to “a new wave of interest and snooping” (p. 10).

Chapter 2

Here we meet Richard’s sister Lisa, who is...well...quite an interesting character. She’s a beautiful woman with short hair, a deep voice, and--most importantly--an unusual, creepy level of attachment to her brother.

Cersei Lannister Lisa Morgan.

Lisa has just received a phone call from the Philippines where her brother is. The call has left her “literally stunned” (p. 11), which means that the modern slang meaning of “literally” dates back 30+ years longer than I thought. Surprisingly, she isn’t drinking wine to calm her nerves like Cersei above, but that’s her loss.

As she gazes at the ocean to the west, her housekeeper, Conchita Aguilar, enters. Chita (as she is usually called) has not just worked as April’s housekeeper for most of her life, but also "she and her husband, Juan, had quite literally brought up April” (p. 13); as a result, she is fiercely loyal to the family of her deceased mistress. Here is a portrait of her:

Looking at the tiny woman with her bright button eyes, the black Indian hair swept stiffly away from her face, parted in the middle and tidily put away in a tight bun low on the back of her neck, Lisa was surprised at the sudden urge to go and take this familiar person in her arms--or better still have Chita take her in hers.[...]Chita might be tiny, but she was all steel and whipcord (p. 13).

Sound familiar?

Yes, Chita bears a resemblance to our beloved Raxl. They even have a similar background, for Raxl, too, comes from a people indigenous to Mexico, according to Episode 23. Like Raxl, Chita is very old and has a mysterious magnetism that draws some people to her (which, in Raxl’s case, includes me). There are some minor differences--Chita doesn’t worship the Great Serpent, she uses gratuitous Spanish instead of gratuitous French, she has a living husband and grandson--but they are, in most ways, the same character. It’s clear that Ian Martin didn’t want to part with Raxl, and I don’t blame him one bit.

Also, for whatever reason, he was oddly insistent on both of them having a specific hairstyle. If you read the original script for the show’s pilot, you will see that he was almost as specific about Raxl’s hairstyle, mentioning “her hair tightly drawn over her ears to a small bun,” but less detailed about those of the other characters. Just an odd detail that probably bears little significance, but that I noticed.

Lisa tells Chita that Richard is on his way home with a new wife, a young, very wealthy orphan named Jenny Summers whom he met in the Philippines. This angers the ancient housekeeper, who argues that Jenny can never come to San Rafael

Because there is no place for her here--en la casa de La Señora! Everything here is hers--she still lives here, and will always live here. Her perfume is in every room, her pictures are everywhere, every ornament and ashtray and book I keep just the way she last touched it. There is no room for any other wife here! Oh, she will feel it, she will know it, because La Señora would never permit another woman to take her place (p. 16)!

Lisa insists that, despite the risk that Jenny won’t want to live on the estate and despite her equal displeasure about the situation, Chita keep an open mind regarding her and try not to be such a Mrs. Danvers about the situation. (OK, so she doesn’t actually say the last part; that’s just my paraphrase.) She also tries to pressure Chita into helping her take down the mementos of April at Richard’s orders, which she objects to, both for sentimental reasons and because they don’t have time to have the enormous fresco of April that adorns the former chapel. (Symbolism!)

“It was a breathless and yet terrible beauty. For any woman who stood next to it had to be eclipsed” (p. 20).

Yes, you read that right: they rededicated the mission’s former chapel to the silver screen sex goddess April Tennant. After their wedding, Richard had a giant fresco of her painted there in place of its former altar. This is a clear indication that one or more of the people in this household worship April, whether literally or figuratively. More than that, the portrait glows like that of THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES, and seems, like Jacques’ portrait, to be alive, the living essence of a dead person. “Most haunting of all was the feeling that this was the woman--that she could not have died, that any moment she would step off the wall, and her silver laughter would fill the house again (p. 20).”

I’m sorry, Jacques. ;)

Coming up next: Jenny arrives at San Rafael and tries to adjust to living on an estate where almost everyone but Richard acts like they hate her.

{ Next: Part II -> }

#gothic fiction #cbs radio mystery theater #ian martin #joen arliss #shadow over seventh heaven #cbsrmt #strange paradise #related media #review #other reviews #ian martin's novels #analysis #gaze #rebecca #speculation on ian martin's original story #symbolism

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theangrypokemaniac · 5 years ago

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I'll state from the beginning that the images below display the sort of sweet synchronicity to which only love can give life:

MaAndPaShipping is the best ship, and here are five reasons why:

1. It Made James

Like the boy do yer? Ever felt the slightest tingle of warmth at the mention of his name?

Well get down on yer knees and give thanks to his mother and father for gifting him to the world!

Where would we be without their remarkable commitment? Could James have grown into the dandified dream boat of your desires if deprived of the safety provided by his parents?

Had they not brought him up, he'd be dead, The Dog of Flanders fantasy made reality. If miraculously he survived, foraging in the wild is not conducive to a foppish personality.

Is that to yer fancy? No? Then let's have a little respect. The luxury Ma and Pa gave enabled his macaroni tendencies to reach such heights.

Their love created him! How can it not be celebrated?

You lot would ship Jessie's parents but you can't, because she has no dad, and I don't suppose you'll ever assent to his obvious identity of Windy Miller, although 'Jessie Miller' has a wonderful ring to it, so what can be done?

Should a Pa Jess be conjured for the purpose, he still buggered off, didn't he? Where's the allure in a faithless git?

I can't comprehend the obsession with Ma Jess. As soon as here she's stiff, and what is there to remember but coercing her daughter into eating snow?

Hey, I named her. What more do you want from me?

I'd rather have the living, visible ancestors, if you don't mind.

Yeah, says the history fanatic.

Why not make the most of the chances offered, and follow a devoted couple whose love made a difference to your existence?

2. Canon!

There are many ships which I find repulsive for involving depravity, or absurd as the subjects haven't met, or don't inhabit the same fictional universe.

Video et taceo: I see and I say nothing.

Neither does anyone. Forcing decent folk in to incest, bestiality etc. is quite alright.

Perverted ideas are left alone, but woe betide a Rocketshipper, because that's offensive.

It may be the only original ship left standing, with proper evidence and sanctioned by Nintendo, but no, it's fair game for undermining. People pick at your arguments, quibble constantly and NEED to register their objections NOW. You MUST be made aware of opposition. You're not to be permitted your views the way those with twisted tastes are indulged.

Why, out of tens of thousands of combinations, does making Jessie and James an item provoke hostility?

The strength of negativity actually serves as validation, for why be so concerned if it's an impossible relationship?

However sick they are, I'm not anti any ship. I can't muster sufficient interest to do it, and if I scroll on, I forget. I certainly don't attack those responsible.

Anti-Shipping is inherently nihilistic for promoting loneliness. They aren't against Rocketshipping through wanting Jessie and James to be with someone else, as an alternative is not readily available, so the outcome of it is neither finding a companion.

MaAndPaShipping attracts no sourpuss silliness, for 'tis canon beyond question. There's nothing about being 'just friends' when married with a son.

How's the state of your O.T.P.? Not looking too clever I expect, and what's your contribution: wishing, and hoping, and thinking, and praying?

Cast it off! None of that longing is necessary in these quarters, as MaAndPaShipping is a fait accompli.

Hallelujah! Wallow in that Love!

Don't you yearn for at least one ship that all of us accept by default, to the extent these aristocrats are spoken of as a single unit?

Across the internet, Ma and Pa are bracketed as 'James's parents', never 'he' and 'she', always 'they', barely counting as distinct characters. That's how undeniable the love is between them. Sheer indifference has awarded it a blessing from everyone.

MWAH-HA-HA-HA-HA!!!

Of course, now I've drawn attention to it the moaning will start, but we all know a spoilsport when we see one.

If they had any legitimate complaints they ought to have mentioned 'em before this piece highlighted the marriage!

Except it won't have occurred to 'em previously, proving the eternal, indissoluble quality of MaAndPaShipping.

You get good value with this one.

Find a post referring to Ma and Pa as individuals and I'll have written it, for that's what you call ironic.

3. It's a Fine Rocketshipping Proxy

I was at primary school when Pokémon hit the West like the bright, bearded meteor it is, atomizing all competition for a child's attention.

I have shipped Jessie and James before I knew anyone else did it, unaware shipping was even a thing.

There are other pairs where I think: 'That seems to fit', but it's incomparable to what I feel for them.

It is part of me. I bleed it.

I have shipped it longer than most Tumblerries have dwelt upon the earth.

I used to believe, what with the hints and manga finale, that this resolution was inevitable, and all I had to do was wait.

Well I've been patient for two decades now, thus when I look at the modern incarnation, and realise it's no nearer to that goal, and instead is further away, waiting starts to wear a bit thin.

I resent the lack of appreciation shown to the fans by the cretins in charge, how any meagre shippy inclusion is done not with an interest in deepening bonds, but with the blatant cynicism of moulding us into performing monkeys dancing to their manipulative tune.

I dislike being treated like a sea lion, expected to clap me flippers at the wave of a fish, or as a panting dog begging at top table, where, because they're desperate to maintain the status quo, every scrap flung down from above now comes with an Anti-Ship kick in the teeth, just to be sure nothing progresses. Not whilst the franchise can still be milked for all it's worth.

I have lost faith Rocketshipping will happen. What passes for Pokémon today carries not the remotest indication of any intention on the so-called writers' part to finish it that way.

Even if it did, it's not my Team Rocket, it's those skeletal, gargoyle bastardisations. My Jessie and James never got the reward they deserved.

I'm somewhat in the market for a replacement. Beneath this loathsome carapace of acid and ice beats the tender heart of a true romantic, and it must have an outlet!

Shipping Ma and Pa provides a certain spurious relief, because it's as close as you can get to Jessie and James without it being them, both biologically as his parents, but they're so similar to the duo it counts as proof in itself.

Holy Matrimony! is prime Rocketshipping territory, not merely the balloon lift, but many slight additions are as important, like the haircuts matching.

Ma and Pa are therefore Jessie and James in the past, present and future:

The past for representing Jess 'n' Jamie gone Victorian, and we've all wondered how that'd turn out.

The present as it's there right now, absent of suffering the shameless whims of morons to get what you want. 'Tis yours to savour.

The future as a glimpse of Jessie and James once married with children, and they agree:

That's how they play it given the opportunity!

What, James in blue, for his and Pa's hair, and Jessie wearing purple, like Ma's, with a red shawl for her own, and Ma Jess's orange earrings to copy the beads?

• Money!

• Bun!

• 'Tache!

• Classy pad!

• Fancy gear!

• Pampered pet!

• Identical cups of Earl Grey!

4. Original Blend

Ma and Pa have only got two fans! We care more than the entire fandom has in twenty years!

Rocketshipping art is ten a penny, so why not display a pioneering spirit, sharpen up those pencils and be inspired?

Let your mind expand and marvel at the possibilities of these unchartered territories, and I'll reblog it if it's nice.

Pay attention to the condition of it being nice. I'm not putting up with any old toss.

Real Ma and Pa is what I want too, not those Sinnoh coffin-dodgers.

It's never been done! Every drawing breaks new ground!

I don't like fan fiction, but I wouldn't say 'no' to that either. Recall the 'nice' stipulation again.

Come on, be the first amongst your friends and get ship shape!

5. It Gives Us All Hope

Suppose your favourite amour one day became canon: you imagine that's the end of the matter?

Well it ain't.

Between Ash, Misty, Brock, Jessie, James, Gary and Tracey, there are three-and-a-half out of fourteen parents (Flint doesn't count as a complete man) and one out of twenty-eight grandparents, and that's not enough!

If the series drew to a close with your beloved couple apparently walking into the happily-ever-after, there's no guarantee it'll endure. In fact, the odds are they'll split up within a few years and leave another generation to fend for themselves or starve.

That's right, so don't presume the final episode is all you need to worry about. Can you rest easy knowing it'll go pear-shaped once the camera stops rolling?

It's futile soothing one's worries with:

Oh, but they know what it's like to be alone. They'd never inflict such stress on their children.

Oh really?

Look at that poor showing of grandparents. Either Pokémon has a system reminiscent of the sci-fi film Logan's Run, where everyone over thirty is vapourized, or these disappearing maters and paters were themselves victims of abandonment.

I bet when they settled down, they thought it'd be different for their kids, they'd make sure of it, but no, off they went down that same route of feckless self-indulgence, and that's being kind assuming they intended not to repeat history.

Depressing eh? What's the good in any of us surrendering to romance, real or otherwise, if love is but a mayfly of emotion, and all dreams are doomed to die?

Then Ma and Pa arrive, and suddenly the storm clouds part for a ray of heavenly light.

It's not only that they made the effort in what was probably an arranged marriage and have stayed together from youth, it's that they've stayed together when no one else has, which augments its value.

When separation is commonplace, sticking it out becomes rarer and rarer as any belief in the sanctity of wedlock erodes with every failure.

If they didn't bother, why should I? What's the use when it won't work?

Once that idea enters your head, it's over, and your gloom-laden attitude fulfils itself.

Society is collapsing about Ma and Pa's ears, but they persevere nevertheless, refusing to buckle under the turgid malaise engulfing the arrogant and weak.

It's bloody beautiful, man!

You may suggest an environment of supreme wealth erases normality, and to their class and time period divorce is still taboo, so they don't really have much of choice but to remain wedded.

Ah, but it's not as if they simply tolerate one another for appearances, or carried on for the sake of their son (which is more than anyone else did besides), not when he walked out on them.

They've been married longer than James has lived, so at least eighteen years (don't all squeal at once), and they're still blissfully contented!

They hold hands!

They use terms of endearment like 'dear' and 'my precious'!

They were made for one another!

They work as a team!

They want the same thing for James!

It could bring a stone angel to tears it's so beautiful!

See what success can be achieved when you try? When you endeavour to love the one you're with and make yourself worth loving in return?

Better that than chucking 'em at the first sign of trouble.

Ma and Pa is such an irrevocable union even the despair of losing their only child failed to tear 'em asunder, and that'd defeat many, but not this husband and wife.

Be grateful, for it means all is not in vain.

It doesn't have to be misery and pain: love can last despite the pressure of a wretched, hollow culture bent on self-destruction. Your ship might just succeed too.

God bless 'em for keeping the magic alive!

...

Why do I have the presentiment that I'm going to regret encouraging support?

#maandpashipping #team rocket #ma james #pa james #ma and pa james #james #jessie #james's mom #james's dad #james's parents #rocketshipping #kanto #holy matrimony!

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