#that version of himself never talked to Stanley again probably

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

It's funny because to me Ford's "perfect universe" (the one in the journals where Stanley blindly did what he told him to do with the journals and he tweeked the portal to cut out Bill's nightmare realm and got rich and famous) contains the worst version of himself. And I don't know if he'll ever realize that.

[queenburd]

not writing the fanfics fair & understandable but. might you share the plot bunnies perchance ??

i love that people like my ideas. it's honestly the most flattering thing.

this one is going to be.... confusing. it's told from a stanley pov, but here's the thing:

it's not the Stanley that I've been writing.

this Stanley is a Stanley who speaks, and his narrator is MUCH more antagonistic. this is a stanley who does the Zending to hurt the narrator, this is a narrator who relishes putting Stanley in his place. these are NOT people who see eye to eye. These two will never get along. The narrator wields his power aggressively, is cowardly, is mean, and refuses to ever try to find equal footing.

and THIS Stanley wants his freedom, and found the escape pod, but knows he will never ever get it, because it requires him and the narrator to work together.

so the hostility continues.

and then, during a moment of tempers flaring and another incoming ugly death, a hand grabs Stanley's and pulls him along, and a very familiar voice tells him to "run! run!"

There's a new person in this parable, and he certainly sounds like the narrator, and has a lot of the same quirks, but this fellow seems very determined on getting Stanley out, and free. Like he cares.

and this narrator knows Stanley doesn't trust him, but he gets him to the escape pod, and he tells him a story about a Protagonist and a Narrator who got on so well that they decided to escape together. but when they got into the Pod, the lights went out, and when they blinked back on, the Narrator was alone, in a Parable like the one he was from, but there was a different Stanley and a different Narrator and a different dynamic.

There's so many parables out there where Stanley's made powerless, again, and again, and again. And any time there's a chance at growth, the hint of it, the Narrator there always makes the selfish choice to turn the wheel back. make the both of them forget. the end is never the end.

so this narrator, this one who was pulled into a different parable, gets that Other Stanley out. the pod only needs a Narrator, it doesnt need the one from THAT parable.

and then it happens again.

and again.

this narrator, who was the idiot that cared so much for his protagonist that he chose to leave the parable with him, thinks that perhaps he broke the game. perhaps the parable never meant for him to change this much.

but he will be damned if he's going to change for the worse.

if this is his life now--being thrown into parable after parable, watching iterations of himself hurting Stanley, fighting Stanley, mocking Stanley forever, then he's going to do something about it. he's going to get every single Stanley out if he has to.

He's never going to see his best friend again. He's certain of that. he doesn't even know if the escape pod is actually freeing any of them.

but he wont stop. it's too important.

when Stanley gets into the escape pod, the fellow tucks in next to him, and says goodbye. And then Stanley is in the real world. Alone.

and he finds that he is furious for the fellow's sake. because if the guy was telling the truth (and he's fairly certain he was) then that means there are a LOT of versions of Stanley out there that owe their freedom to this one person, and dammit. Stanley's going to find them. And he's going to try to find the narrator's original Stanley if he can.

he puts out a call on the internet. Hes contacted by someone who asks how he knows this person. "I met him at my place of work. He got me out of a really bad spot. He said he'd done the same to others." "funny. he said the same to me."

and there's suddenly an entire discord chat full of Stanleys, who go by nicknames and all look different and some sign in ASL and some in BSL and some talk and some dont talk or sign at all, but they all know this narrator who got them out.

the ones in the same country (not sure if Britain or US. but probably most of them located in Britain) meet up once a month or so. They work together. One's an artist who makes pictures of the narrator to get more attention out. The main one we follow is tech savvy and code-knowledgeable.

and then 4 months and 27 days after the first call went out, a new text shows up on Stanley's phone.

"hey, I saw your online call. That's my best friend. Do you know where he is?"

when the 'original' Stanley makes it to group, he goes by Stan, and he brings his bucket with him. He's tall, and quiet, and the kindest man Stanley has ever met. Sometimes some of the fellas wonder why this Stan was so lucky to have such a good Narrator, but they've got it backwards. the Narrator is only so good because his Stanley was so good.

does that mean it was their faults their narrators were so bad?

Stan is so, so adamant that no, no, it takes work on both sides. both people have to want it. it was not your fault you were hurt. Im so glad he got you out. Im so proud of him. I miss him so much.

Stan is... he's sad. Hes happy to know his best friend is alive, but it hurts, you know.

A couple of the first Stanleys to escape after him have a message from the Narrator, one he gave them in the hopes it would get to Stan. (Stanley never got this message. When he asked the narrator if he had anything he wanted to tell his friend, he just smiled sadly and said "no. no, if he hasn't gotten the message by now, then he never will.")

the Stanley who tells him the message signs it in BSL, rendered mute a long time ago. He said he was sorry. He didn't mean to get separated from you. He makes a little uncertain face. He also said something else he said you would understand. He said that he would have said yes. Do you know what that means?

Stan's eyes widen, and then he starts to cry. He chokes out (verbal, but it's hard on him, and his voice was hoarse), "I was gonna propose. Once we got out. I was gonna find a ring, and--"

Which is the moment they all realize these two weren't just best friends--they were in love. They were happy.

A couple of the fellas are quick to give physical comfort. Stanley isn't one of those fellas, but he IS a very determined person. Once he has an idea in his head, he sees it through.

"We're gonna get him out."

he has no plan, and a couple of the boys berate him for just saying that, they can't get Stan's hopes up, they dont have anything to go off of, but Stan wipes his face and that classic stubbornness that burns through every single one of them shines bright in his eyes.

[ You know how long I've been free? The day I messaged you, it had been 4 years and 27 days. And eight hours. If that's not a sign, I don't know what is. Tell me what I can do. ]

[occasionaloneshots]

Projector

Stozier x Fem! Reader

Summary: Annoyed with one of her partners, the reader takes a different approach to addressing it.

CW: fluff, joking empty threat, the word h*ll once, I think that's all.

Most people would look at them and be confused, Richie himself was even confused by it. Stan and (Y/n) are the poster couple for the perfect marriage for the whole first year. That romantic comedy opposites-attract couple that could make a watcher swoon for their love story. The sorority girl who was a cheerleader and the quiet stand-offish guy in the back of her freshman year probability and statistics class. One class project and they were wrapped around each other’s pinkies for life. And they were cute, but even the other losers were shocked by them at first. When Stan and Richie came into Bill’s basement, a girl laughing at one of Richie’s jokes, everyone was lost. They assumed she was Richie’s girlfriend, out-going and laughing at his stupid jokes, even making them back. But when she sat on Stan’s side, clinging to his side, Bill nearly choked on his popcorn.

The wedding was perfect, beautiful and pristine. The ceremony was enough to bring a few tears to Mike and Bill's eyes, and Richie was happy for them. Except, the best man shouldn’t have a thing for the bride and the groom, should he? It was weird for him, Stan had been his best friend his entire life, they were even roommates in college. Then suddenly, every time he kissed his girlfriend he was jealous, and at first he believed he was the world’s worst friend. But at the wedding he realized he wasn’t jealous because he wished he was in Stan’s place, he was jealous because he wished he was up there with them. So for a year, the dark haired man kept his mouth shut, not wanting to hurt what he did have with what he wanted. So to say he was terrified when they asked him to meet them on their anniversary, that’s an understatement. Hearing them say they wanted him to be their third? He thought they were using him as a sick joke. But it had been three years of them being a throuple, and he was so happy. But even being a part of the couple, at times Richie didn’t get it. He loved them, and they obviously loved each other as well as him. But Stan still seemed like such an opposite to her, then again, so did Richie.

But it was that morning when she announced that it was a “Projector night” that he finally got it. They had done this before, their version of a family meeting, but normally Stan called for it. Maybe it was passive aggressive, but he had never witnessed them having a fight that led to screaming and crying, so it seemed to work. Richie wasn’t often part of it, he hated making PowerPoints, but it let them all talk without screaming, so it works. Stan and her made eye contact, grabbing her laptop from their shared office and walking into the shared bedroom. Now, as she uses his height to her advantage to hang the projector screen, he knew this was about to be amusing, the girl setting up her projector with a hum. Stan walks into the room as she hooks herself up, falling onto one end of the couch as he looks over at the two. “Hey Stannie,” Richie tone is teasing as he falls onto the couch, arm wrapping around his boyfriend. “Hey Rich.”

Their girl bounces up to the front of the room, a wireless mouse in her hand, and a screen that reads, “Why Stanley Should Sleep On The Couch Tonight,” on the screen behind her. The dark haired man on the couch couldn’t help but laugh at it, had he known this was the point to the night, he would have helped. He loves Stan, they both do, of course, but he was keeping them from sleeping often. “I assumed that this was the point,” the mumble from the man on his left made Richie laugh harder. The slide changes “The Crime” in red font at the top. Richie knew he was in for a long night, and he was so excited for it. “Stan, I love you, Richie loves you, but you, you’re a criminal.” The words sent the calmest of the three into laughter that shook his body, “I’m a criminal?” “You are,” she clicks, making more text show up, “You haven’t let Richie and I sleep through the night in two weeks. And we love hearing about your thoughts, when we want to be awake. But three in the morning is not the time to tell us that you’re having deep thoughts about birds, again.” Once again the slide changes as he opens his mouth to argue. “I don’t wake you up to talk about birds that often, I hear you about to say it, I’ve been keeping documents.” Richie turns his head, biting his fist in an attempt not to die laughing again, earning himself a soft shove from the other man.

Her hands flail as she speaks, reading the slide with a nearly amused annoyance. “Last Tuesday, your first account, ‘Richie, babe, wake up this is important.’ Richie wakes up, worried for you, the light is still on. And you say, ‘Babe, did you know that two different states have the American Robin as their state bird? I can’t believe I let myself forget this, am I losing my touch?’ It was two in the morning, Stan. Last Friday, you woke me up at four in the morning to let me know that the feathered jacket I got at the thrift store that day was made from a brand that killed birds. And I'm sorry that it’s real feathers, I didn’t know the brand did that, but, Love, that’s not a four in the morning discussion. Monday, you woke both of us up to let us know that two birds you had never seen were spotted in town, it was three in the morning. And to top it off, last night at three in the morning again, you woke Richie up frantically which also woke me up to ask if we thought birds had feelings.” Richie and (Y/n) could see a soft blush on the face of their lover, his lip caught between his teeth as he leaned his head on their boyfriend’s arm.

She changes the slide again, “Other things you have woken us up for this week, not including times because they weren’t as wild as the birds. Your favorite novel character died, you remembered that the Beatles don’t make music anymore, you missed Richie even though he was right beside you. There was also the time that you made ribs and woke us up in the middle of the night to bring them to us." Richie interrupts, a finger pointed into the air as he speaks, "Actually, that one was good. Those were good ribs." She pauses, nodding, "Valid, but back to the point. Bill's newest novel released, you tried to convince us to get a cat because ‘you agree to let me buy things more when you’re half asleep’. Taylor Swift surprise dropped a single, and finally, you wanted to know if we could have a fake second wedding to involve Richie since legally we can’t all be truly married.” Despite the whole show, Richie and Stan both knew she wasn’t mad, not in the way one would expect. (Y/n) loved Stan’s ramblings as much as she loved Richie’s jokes. But the woman struggles to fall back asleep if she wakes up in the middle of the night, and she hasn't slept enough in almost two full weeks now. Slowly but surely, it was starting to show, in her face and in her attitude.

So they kept quiet as she changed the slide again. “I love my boys, I really do. But I need sleep, which leads to our topic,” yet another page change, “ Stan, I need you to sleep on the couch tonight. I have a really important meeting tomorrow, when you wake me up it takes at least two hours for me to go back to sleep. And Love, I adore you, but if you’re the reason I lose this sale, we might physically fight.” Despite the words, she was giggling, smiling over at her husband. He got up, wrapping his arms around her, the giggling growing into a true laugh as he picked her up. “You would lose.” “You wouldn’t hit back,” she shakes her head, reaching out to Richie, “Make him put me down before I change my mind.” The dark haired man shakes his head, “Nope, you’re making him sleep on the couch, let him hold you above the ground.” “But Rich! I hate being picked up! I did this for us,” a pout stretched across her face. Stan puts her down, “The laugh said otherwise.” She crosses her arms like a child, walking over to her laptop, “You took me by surprise, it was involuntary.” The curly haired male shakes his head, “Yeah okay, are you going to be able to sleep without me though?” She nods, “I have Richie.” “She’s my wife tonight, Stanley,” he pokes out his tongue like a child.

“You ‘ve both reminded me that we need to discuss the three person wedding for an official partnership. Richie, marry us, please,” Stan mock-begs, wrapping his arms around Richie’s waist to hold him in place. Richie tuts, shaking his head, “You can’t distract me with a marriage proposal twice in one week Stanley. The lady and I need our sleep. I will marry you though, not tonight, but eventually. I need a real proposal though, from the both of you. I'll accept nothing less.” “After my meeting tomorrow,” (Y/n) nods, walking to the office. “Not that early either, but eventually, probably.” She walks back in, an arm wrapped around both Stan and Richie when she meets their sides. “It would be nice to say I have a wife and a husband though,” Richie says, tilting his head to the side, "And they're both hot. I win!" Stan lets go of Richie to high five his wife, “We win! A husband!” “Hell yes! I get two!” She laughs, putting up a fist and bringing it back down as if grabbing the air around her. Richie sighs, wiggling out of their grips, “Babygirl, it's late, you need to sleep. Goodnight Babe, I love you.” He presses a kiss to Stan’s lips smiling down at the woman beside him. “Goodnight Dove,” he turns to kiss (Y/n) too, “Goodnight Babylove. I love you both.” “Goodnight my love,” she smiles, grabbing Richie’s hand as Stan walks over to the hall closet to get his own bed set up for the night. “Sorry for putting you in marriage time out, my love!” “No no, I get it,” he laughs, “I'm annoying! Go to bed, Babylove.” “Yes sir!” She turns to Richie, smiling up at him as he opens the door for her, "Ready for a full night of sleep, lover?" He laughs, shaking his head, "Am I ever. Did he do that before I moved in?" "Never, you truly bring out the worst in him."

[honkhonkrichard]

Theory: Stanley Uris was Murdered.

Tagging @vvanini I hope you can follow this okay it’s very word vomity lol

Okay So TW because this post will touch on Stan's death ad the methods behind it

I propose that Stan Uris was murdered. by IT. In his home on that fateful night. I think that Stan posed the biggest threat to IT and therefore IT felt the need to take him out before the battle even started.

Allow me to explain.

Okay, so, I need to lay out some basic "rules" or "facts" before I make my case. They are as follows.

- IT planted it's roots in Derry, and finds it difficult to leave, but still can at it’s own wil.  If you read the book (I honestly don't blame you if you haven't) You'd know that once the Losers kill IT for the final time, Derry (the Physical town) is obliterated. Buildings explode, sinkholes appear, things are flooded. The town is in ruins by the time that the Losers leave the sewers. The movies don't adapt this so If this is news to you thats fine. the bottom line is that destroying IT destroys Derry, like ripping a tree out of the ground with all it's roots. Because of this, we can make the claim that while it can Leave Derry (as it does every 27 years) it probably takes tremandous amount of power to do so, which is why IT only goes when the cycle is over. Why does this matter? Well, what if IT left Derry to get to Stan? The murders had stopped for about a week when they're all in the Jade of the Orient. Plenty of time for IT to cross from Maine to Georgia. Side Note: We KNOW IT leaevs Maine to elsewhere in the world because of King's extended universe all interconnecting. it's not far off at all to make the claim that IT is the same evil that haunts, say The Shining's Overlook Hotel, which is in Colarado.

- IT is omnipresent This is also a given, IT lives everywhere, and can fuck with time and space in godlike (or maybe eldritch like) ways. in IT: Chapter Two, when Mike claims "IT Doesn't know I know what I know" he's unfortunately wrong, because we know that IT can be in A) Multiple places at once, B) can manipulate anything on the drop of a hat (See: Stan being teleported away from everyone else in Chapter One, Everything about Neibolt, etc) and C) Knows everyone's deep fears. This is further proven by IT Saying things like "Beep Beep Richie" (although this is Horribly Horribly executed in the films, ugh.) and so on and so forth. On top of all of this, We can make the claim that IT can exist outside of Time as well, given that IT is immortal. SO, what's stopping IT from Knowing Mike was going to call them all back (Espically considering that IT TOLD Mike to do this?). Even if we keep IT's omnipresence to the location that IT inhabits (in this case Derry) IT would still have knowledge of where the losers are through Mike. And if you take the Lucky Seven/Chosen Seven route (oh my god I got theories on that too) you could argue IT knows where they are inherently due to their cosmic status.

- Stan is the "most Powerful" loser So, obviously all the Loser's are powerful, espically considering they're the ones who Defeat IT (Again going on to the Lucky/Chosen Seven theory). This next claim is going to be less focused on what the 2019/2017 Movies do because they are Bad Movies and that's a whole other rant. However, in the book, Stan is (to my knowledge feel free to correct me on any of this) the only loser to Actively ward off and 'defeat' IT on his own without running away. He uses his belief in this what is Real (birds) to ward off what is "not real" (IT). The other losers do manage to take down IT in their own Right, but Stan is ultimately the one to Really get IT. This is because Stan's character revolves around Belief and Willpower. These are, in some form or another, the ways to Defeat IT. the ritual of Chud is a battle of Wills. in the book, Bill takes IT down and Eddie does the final blow. In the Remake (ugh) the losers can defeat it Technically using the belief that IT isn't as powerful as it claims because IT's "just a clown" (Ihatethatfuckingendingsomuchugh). Stan being much more skeptical than the rest of the group in his ability to understand Reality vs IT's illusions is a powermove, and IT knows that ability doesn't go away as Stan grows up, but rather he gets more powerful. Stan is the Only loser out of the 6 who left that has any sort of knowledge about IT, where the other losers have nothing. Bev has nightmares, yes, but she still forgets them. We're told in his chapter (Chapter 3, Six Phone Calls (1985), Part One: Stanley Uris Takes a Bath) that he has some hazy knowledge of his place in the Lucky Seven, and even goes so far as to MENTION it sometimes, even if he doesn't quite remember or understand any of it, his knowledge of IT and Derry is worlds more prominent than that of the rest of the losers.

(page 52 of IT:  "Stanley, nothing's wrong with your life!"  "I don't mean from inside." he said. "From inside is fine. I'm talking about outside. Something that should be over and isn't. I wake up frmo these dreams and think, 'My whole pleasent life has been nothing but the eye of some storm I don't understand.' I'm afraid. But then it just... fades. The way dreams do." OR  page 45: He had been smiling a little. Now the smile faltered, and for a moment he seemed puzzled. His eyes had darkened, as if he looked inward, consulting some interior device which ticked and whirred correctly but which, ultimately he understood no more than the average man understands the workings of the watch on his wrist. "The turtle couldn't help us," he said suddenly. he said that quite clearly.)

So, Stan has some cosmic knowledge of IT and Maturin and his role in the battle against It. What does any of this have to do with his death? Well, let me point out some other things about Stan's death that always stuck out to me. - His death chapter is narrated by his wife, Patty, rather than himself. The other chapters - almost all the other chapters - are narrated by their respective Loser (the caviot for this is Ben, but Ben is also wasted out of his damn mind so its understandable.) - Stan's personality is few and far between in the book, but we know he has a weird little sense of humour and that he's incredibly logical. I think that this logical part of him would be able to understand that Suicide is Never Ever the answer, and that it would cause FAR more problems than it would solve. (the 2019 movie tries to reexplain his death and it's crap and i hate the letters i hate the letters so much im gonna explode) The other losers try to rationalize his death by saying "He would rather Die Clean than Live Dirty (Page 506, Chapter 10, The Reunion, part 3, 'Ben Hanscom Gets Skinny') but he had already BEEN Dirty when he defeated IT the first time, and I think he would've recognized that. - upon finding him, Patty (in her narration) notes that Stan's head is bent back over the edge of the bathtub, so from his sight she would have been upside down. If Stan DID kill himself, why would he be positioned like that? It's unnatural, like someone Posed him. - the cuts on his arms are two length wise cuts. I'm no expert but.. that's suspicious. That's weird. - IT is written in blood on the wall. Why? Why would Stan right THAT of all things? You know who DOES like to paint with blood? IT.

Alright, returning to my thesis statement, Stanley Uris was murdered. Do I think Stan genuinely was going to take a bath at 7pm (which we're told is weird for him)? Yes. I think that's absolutely a thing he could have done or planned to do. Do I think he slit his wrists and commited suicide so he wouldn't go back to Derry? No. Not even remotely.

Let me paint a New Picture.

It's May 28th, 2016, or 1985. Stanley Uris gets a call from Mike Hanlon. Stan is incredibly hesitant to go to, and says he needs time to think about it. Or tht he'll try. He can feel the starts of a Panic attack, and as he's remembering the circles of Hell he went through as a child, he tries to hold himself together. He doesn't want his darling wife to see his break, so he says "I think I'll take a bath" and nothing else before going upstairs. he hides in the bathroom. He closes and locks the door, because, well, he's panicking. Locking doors is one of The Small things he does. Is it usually the bathroom door? no, but still (OCD is a bitch, and even with medication, but this is a special case). He looks in the mirror and tries to breathe. This is fine. He can do this. They killed IT once before and they can do it again. He thinks about his younger self, the promises made, and how he could explain all of this Patty in time to catch a flight to Maine. It's terrifying, but if his friends are going to bite the dust, he wants to be there with them, wedding vows be Damned. Then he looks at his reflection again. A younger, rotted version of himself stares back at him. IT crawls through the mirror. Stan freaks out, obviously. This isn't real. This Can't be real. But IT utilizes this notion against him. It digs it's claws into his arms, and forces him to bleed out in the bathtub. IT then sets the scene nicely. Razorblades on the counter, a bloody signature on the wall, a horrible posture of Stan's neck. So on and So forth. and then IT returns to Derry. IT's a little weak, yeah, but Stan is dead. That's what matters. the Lucky Seven has now Officially broken, and the balance shifts in favour of the clown.

So that's the theory. feel free to correct me on anything or engage I have plenty of theories on this story and I like discussing this stuff :).

[montrealmadison]

drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

read more below or on ao3

Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here. 

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries. 

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know? 

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means. 

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special. 

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who  bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!

[orangeoctopi7]

All of Your So-Called Problems

[AO3 link]

Stan was trying to find room for the leftover Mac and Cheese in the fridge when he heard the doorbell. He grumbled a few obscenities under his breath as he trudged towards the door. He was NOT in the mood for visitors tonight, even if they might be paying customers. The fact that a demon was trying to break into the house to steal some world-ending piece of junk from Ford didn’t help.

"We're closed!" He shouted before he even peeked out the window. He pulled back the blinds just enough to glare at whoever thought it was a good idea to drop by this late, and his eyebrows raised nearly to his receding hairline when he saw who it was.

"Wendy!? Since when do you knock?" Stan couldn't think of a single time she hadn't just come in and made herself at home since she'd started working at the Shack.

"Since Dipper told me you answered the door with a loaded gun earlier today." The teen answered as Stan opened the door.

"Gonna have to have a talk with that runt about blabbing." Stan rolled his eyes. "What, you having a movie night with the kids?"

"Not exactly." The teen jerked a thumb over her shoulder, and Stan finally noticed the rest of the Corduroy family standing just behind her, right off the porch. They were all carrying sleeping bags and pillows.

"...Wha?" Stan could only utter a surprised grunt as his brain tried to piece together why it looked like the entire Corduroy family was here for a sleepover. 

"Dipper called me and said we could stay here until your brother puts up a barrier around our house." Wendy explained, noticing her boss's confusion. "...Aaand he never even told you anything about it, did he?"

"He sure didn't." Stan deadpanned.

As if on cue, Dipper and Ford both stepped into the entryway.

"Oh, Wendy, you're here already!" Dipper said, voice dripping with faked surprise. "I forgot to ask Grunkle Stan if it was ok for you guys to stay the night. But gosh, since you're already here, I guess we can't turn you away!"

"You can drop the act, bucko, I wrote the book on It's easier to ask forgiveness than permission." Stan folded his arms disapprovingly. "The answer's still no. We're already putting up one freeloader."

"I'm the one who said they could stay." Ford said firmly.

Stan turned his glare to his brother. "This isn't a safehouse, genius!"

"It's my house, Stanley!"

"Where are they even gonna sleep!?"

"Well, perhaps we'd have some place to put up guests if you hadn't turned the two largest rooms into a tourist trap!"

"Oh, like you kept the place ready for company when you lived here!" Stan countered. "These rooms were both filled to the brim with your weird experiments when I got here!"

“Hey, we can sleep outside like men, if it’s too much trouble to put us up!” Manly Dan interrupted the brothers’ argument.

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option.” Ford shook his head. “The barrier barely extends past the front porch.” 

Ford quickly took a mental survey of where there might be extra room. The basement lab was out. He’d finished dismantling the portal, but he was storing the rift down there for now. His secret study was supposed to be a secret, and he still needed to clear out all that old Bill memorabilia. The attic was already taken by Dipper and Mabel. Stanley still had the main bedroom, and Fiddleford was currently sleeping on the couch in the upstairs study. That left the den, which might be large enough for one or two people, but certainly not a family of five. If only Stan hadn’t filled his old experiment and specimen rooms with useless junk! Sure, the rooms hadn’t exactly been empty before, but Ford at least would have known what things could be moved where to make room for their guests. Even his old thinking parlor was… wait…

“What about the parlor?” The old researcher asked.

Stan shrugged. “I kinda use it as a space for rotating exhibits, or whatever else I need at the time. Pretty sure it’s still full of leftover campaigning junk.”

“So, nothing we can’t throw out then.”

“Not so fast, genius, I still haven’t agreed to letting anyone stay here.”

“This is an emergency, Stanley!” Ford fumed. “And besides, it’s not your decision to make!”

Stan regarded the Corduroy family still standing awkwardly on his porch, and tried to imagine Manly Dan with those disturbing yellow eyes he’d seen on that time traveler earlier. He tried to picture the hulking lumberjack acting like that erratic demon. It was not a pleasant thought.

“Alright, fine.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But only because I don’t want any of these ax-weidling giants possessed by a triangular serial-killer. And don’t expect me to provide any bedding or food!”

“Yeah, we can probably snare ourselves a few squirrels or something.” Wendy’s oldest brother assured Stan.

Stan grimaced. “On second thought, help yourselves to some canned meat. Only the stuff that’s expired though!”

“Thanks Stan.” Wendy said. “For giving us a place to stay until this blows over, not for the expired meat.”

“What? They pad that date out by at least a year. As long as it smells fine, it’s good to eat.” Stan defended himself.

The teen rolled her eyes but stepped into the Shack, followed by her family.

Ford observed them all carefully as they entered. No hesitation or sign of even noticing it as they crossed over the barrier. So they definitely weren’t possessed now. He would have to keep a close eye on them while they stayed. He knew that Dipper trusted Wendy, and that was good enough for him, for now, but the others? Ford vaguely remembered Dan from when he’d been a young man, building this very cabin for him. He’d been friendly, loud, and boisterous. It appeared his sons were cut from the same cloth. But it was hard to say whether or not Bill could convince any of them to try and smash the rift.

“So Wendy, did you manage to get more unicorn hair?” Dipper asked as he helped her lay out a sleeping bag in the parlor.

“Oh yeah. I just snuck into that glade again with a pair of shears and a tranq dart. Works just as well as fairy dust.” She handed a grocery bag full of rainbow hair to Ford.

Ford made a mental note to add that tidbit to the Journal 1 entry on unicorns later. “I’ll get started on it first thing tomorrow.”

Mabel came downstairs to help just a minute later. After a lot of rearranging of campaign signs and novelty phones, everyone had a sleeping space set out. Dan took Stan’s recliner in the den, and his youngest son set out a sleeping bag at his feet. The oldest three children laid out their sleeping bags between the piles of junk in the parlor. 

“Ohmigosh, Dipper, we should pull our mattresses down here and have a mega-sleepover!” Mabel gasped as she pushed the last of the campaign signs into a corner.

“What was the point of clearing out all this junk if we aren’t even gonna sleep in our own beds?” Dipper asked tiredly.

“Hmm, good point. Maybe Barry and Stuart can sleep in our beds, and we can sleep down here with Wendy!”

Dipper and Wendy’s middle brother both blushed beet red.

“Uh… I mean… I, uh, I don’t think Wendy would want to sleep with me--US! With us!” Dipper stammered.

“M-me? Sleep in a g-girl’s room? Like a room that a girl sleeps in?” The middle brother gulped.

“Yyyeah, I think we’re good where we are.” Wendy said cooly, trying to diffuse the awkward tension in the room.

“Aw man!” Mabel pouted, but she didn’t put up any other protest than that. Dipper suspected she was still pretty worn out from the rescue mission this morning.

Eventually, everyone got settled down and the children all fell asleep. The elder Pines twins moved back to the living room to check on Dan one more time.

"Hey, now that the kids are asleep, I've been meaning to ask you something." The lumberjack said in a low rumble that was probably his version of a whisper. "How long have there been two of you?"

"Hooboy…" Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. He really didn't want to retread this again.

"I'm Stanford. I'm the one you first met when you built this place for me. My brother Stanley has been living here under my name for the last 30 years." Ford summarized tiredly. Apparently he wasn't in the mood to make a big deal out of it right now either.

Stan could practically see the gears turning in Manly Dan's head. Eventually the grizzled lumberjack nodded. "Yeah, that adds up."

With that, he turned over and went to sleep. Stan was a little surprised that the guy accepted their explanation just like that. But then again, Dan had lived in Gravity Falls his whole life.

Ford grabbed a folding chair from the card table and carried it out into the giftshop.

"Are you seriously gonna stay up and keep watch over that snowglobe thing all night?" Stan asked incredulously.

"My usual sleeping place is already occupied, I may as well." 

"Y’know, operating on so little sleep just makes you more likely to screw up.”

“Don’t worry. I’m well accustomed to it.”

“Not reassuring.” Stan said flatly, turning and climbing the stairs up to his room. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he probably wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight either. But at least he was going to try. Ford was going to run himself ragged if he kept up this pace.

- - -

Nights in prison were the worst part of the whole ordeal, in Gideon's opinion. At least during the day, he was able to sway the other inmates to do what he wanted. There was a sort of mob mentality that he could take control of. But at night, it was just Gideon and his cell-mate, and there was nothing the boy could do to stop the hulking man from taking his pillow and doing whatever he wanted with it. 

Last week, the convicted felon had staged a wedding in their cell. He’d made a veil out of toilet paper and hummed “Here Comes the Bride” and everything. Tonight, he seemed to be discussing the possibility of children with his new “wife”.

“But Tessa, your mother and your aunt both died in childbirth! I’m just worried about you, honey!” He paused for whatever imagined reply the pillow gave. “Adoption, you say? I’ll admit, I had not considered it.”

Gideon groaned. He couldn’t even put a pillow over his ears to try and block out the nonsense! He’d tried to persuade the warden to let him switch cell mates so he could room with Ghost Eyes, but apparently they were “both instigators” and putting them both in the same cell would be “asking for a prison riot”.

The boy’s eyes flicked with annoyance to the cat poster still hiding his last attempt to summon Bill Cipher. The triangle had appeared and promised he was working on something, but so far Bill had failed to deliver.

“Stupid useless demon!” Gideon muttered under his breath. He rolled over, expecting another sleepless night.

Well, it did turn out to be sleepless, but not for the reason he’d anticipated.

It was a little past 10 PM when Gideon heard the familiar sound of an old van’s engine revving. He’d heard it many times on his father’s used car lot, but what on earth would one of those junkers be doing here?

That’s when he heard the unmistakable sound of a van crashing through a wall. Followed by the even more unmistakable sound of a machine gun.

“Heavens to Betsy, what was that!?” Gideon ran to his barred window just in time to see a pudgy man with a machine gun walk away from the wreckage of where a large van had burst through the prison wall. His maniacal laughter sounded familiar.

“Well whaddya know? Bill came through!” Gideon said in a hushed whisper. 

He dove away from the window with a yelp a second later when the machine gun started firing in his direction. A few seconds later there was a much quieter bang as a tall ladder hit the wall just outside the window. 

“HEY GIDEON, I HEARD YOU WERE GETTING TIRED OF YOUR PRISON AND WANT TO FIND SOMEPLACE NEW TO PARTY?”

“Bill!?”

“THE ONE AND ONLY!”

“Are you trying to kill me, you maniac!?” 

“YEESH, YOU FLESH-SACKS ARE SO SENSITIVE! YOU’RE FINE. BESIDES, I NEEDED TO LOOSEN THESE BARS!” He ripped out the bars on the window with ease. They’d already been loosened by the machine gun fire. “YOU COMING OR NOT? I NEED YOUR HELP STAGING A LITTLE PRISON BREAK OF MY OWN.”

Gideon pouted and followed the demon down the ladder, grumbling the whole way.

“... You know what, Tessa? I don’t think I want kids after all.” Gideon’s cowering cell mate said after they left. 

Bill kept the guards off them with plenty of machine gun fire, but he had little regard for who he was shooting at, guard or prisoner. He even narrowly missed Gideon on a few occasions.

“Oooh, I hope Killbone’s foot will be ok.” The boy hissed sympathetically as he saw one of his inmate friends go down.

“NAH, HE’S CRIPPLED FOR LIFE!”

They finally made it to the van, and Gideon climbed into the passenger-side door. Bill followed after him.

“A-aren’t you gonna drive?” The boy asked.

“TCH, FUNNY! I JUST RAMMED THIS THING THROUGH THREE WALLS OF CONCRETE; YOU THINK THE MEASLY COMBUSTION ENGINE STILL WORKS?” He flicked a lighter on and dropped it down between the driver’s seat and the steering wheel. Gideon could smell the gasoline. This thing was going to blow any second. He scampered over the benches and out the back door. Bill followed casually behind him.

“Then how are we supposed to get away!?” Gideon demanded as he sprinted to put distance between himself and the burning van.

“RELAX, SHORT-STACK, I’VE GOT A SECOND GET-AWAY CAR RIGHT HERE!” Bill pointed out a small black Audi parked behind a tall tree.

“Then why did you set the van on fire?” Gideon asked in confusion.

“BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT’D BE FUN.” Bill grinned as the van blew up behind them. Gideon screamed and ducked to avoid fiery flying debris. “AND I WAS RIGHT!”

Gideon got into Bill’s car. There was no child’s car seat. “You better drive careful.” He warned the demon.

“AHAHAHAHA, OH GIDEON, YOU’RE ALWAYS A RIOT!” Bill struggled to shift the car into drive, and Gideon had just enough time to realize with horror that the demon didn’t really know how to operate a human vehicle before it sped off through the trees.

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Rewind Chapter 2

Stan’s head was full of cotton. He mumbled and buried his face into his pillow, wishing he could block out the world. Had he been hit in the head during gym class? He couldn’t remember, but that might explain the fuzziness in his brain and why his arms felt all weak and noodly.

Someone was talking to him, probably Ford, trying to get him up for school. Ew, school. Did he have a test today? Stan could have sworn there was one coming up but he never really paid attention to when. Not like studying would change his score much anyway. He had to squint to read the questions and it took him way longer than everyone else to answer anything at all. Pa said it was because he was stupid.

He didn’t want to go to school today. His head was all stuffy and he was tired. Was he sick? If he was sick maybe Pa would let him stay home. It was Ford’s schooling he cared about anyway.

But no, that would leave Ford alone all day! He couldn’t leave his brother with that stupid Crampelter. Ford tried to hide how the other kids picked on him when Stan wasn’t there, but Stan wasn’t a total idiot. He knew it got worse when he wasn’t by his brother’s side, fists clenched and rearing for a fight. They would take advantage of his absence to mess with his brother.

No, he’d have to go to school, for Sixer. Filled with indignation on the part of his brother Stan lifted his face from his pillow-

And froze.

He wasn’t in his room, on the bottom bunk while Ford leaned over from the top bunk to talk to him. He wasn’t in his room at all.

The bed he was on was big and messy with slightly grubby sheets. It sat in a weird room that looked like it was part of a log cabin, rife with random objects that sat on boxes or desks or were pinned to a corkboard on the wall. And there was someone standing over him.

Stan yelped and threw himself away from the reaching hand, only to topple off the bed and let out a pained cry when his elbows scraped the wooden floor. The person rushed around towards him. Heart pounding, Stan rolled under the bed and curled up as far in as he could get.

It was cold down here, and dusty, spider webs crisscrossing the beams above his head. Stan hugged his knees and gasped for breath.

Where the heck was he? Who was this guy? Where were Ford, and Ma, and his room and his house?

“Stanley?” A voice called. Deep and male and it sounded like Pa but not quite. Stan would have taken being alone with Pa over this. There was rustling as the person knelt next to the bed. Stan whimpered and curled up tighter. Maybe if he stayed still and very quiet, they would go away.

A man’s face peered into the shadows. His glasses reflected the light but – there was something familiar about those brown curls, the shape of his mouth, the concerned tilt of his brows.

“Ford?” Stan blurted. Ford – because it was Ford, wasn’t it, even though he was grown up? – nodded, seemingly at a loss for what to do. They sat there for a moment before Ford reached a hand towards him.

It was probably to help him out from under the bed, but Stanley took the chance to count his fingers. One, two, three, four, five, six. Yep, this was Ford alright. He grabbed the huge hand and crawled out of the dusty shadows.

Ford was huge. He looked like an adult, Stan realized as he shook dust from his clothes and sneezed. He looked like Pa, but without the sunglasses and the scowl and the grey hair.

“What happened to you?” Stan demanded. “You’re all – big.”

Ford’s eyes widened slightly. He hadn’t made a move to stand up from where he was kneeling. To be honest, Stan didn’t want him to stand up – he didn’t like the idea of his brother looming over him.

“You don’t remember?” Ford’s voice was deeper than he was used to. It still sounded like a nerd’s voice, though, so that was something. Stan frowned.

“Remember what? This isn’t home. Where are we? And you – you’re old. What’s going on?”

Ford ran a hand across his face and groaned. “Okay. This is fine. So you reverted to a child in memories as well. Just – great.”

And then he stood up and started walking. Stan trailed after his brother as he sat at a desk and started writing in a big book. Stan wasn’t tall enough to see what he was writing.

“Uh, Ford?”

No answer. Stan stood there awkwardly while Ford scratched away in his book. He really wasn’t liking how – how weird his brother was being. He felt like he’d missed something big. But with the way Ford was acting Stan was nervous to ask, and that made him even more worried. Ford had never been this distant before.

“I called you here.” Ford said suddenly, making Stan jump. The nerd still wasn’t looking up from his book. “I needed your help hiding my journals. You came to my house. Do you remember that?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” A thought struck Stan and he blinked. “Wait, are we in the future?”

“In a manner of speaking, you are.” Ford sighed. “Listen carefully, Stanley. I asked you to come, so you could take my journal far away and hide it.”

“Why?”

“It contains very dangerous information. I have to keep it out of the wrong hands.”

“Oh, okay.” Yeah, that made sense. That kind of stuff was always happening in the new Sci-Fi show Ford loved. Of course, that was a show, but they’d seen weird things before. Like the Jersey Devil! Plus, if anyone was gonna write something epic and powerful and smart, it would be Ford.

His brother sent him an odd look out of the corner of his eye but continued.

“When you got here – you were my age then – we got into an argument. You knocked into one of my samples and got it all over you. Then you turned into – this. A younger version of yourself.”

Stan blinked. “I was old?”

“We’re twenty seven, Stanley ­– or at least I am. I was investigating water from the spring of youth, but I only came across it recently so I haven’t had time to work out how to undo its effects. I’ll have to get a new sample to experiment on, since you destroyed the only one I had.”

Destroyed? Stan rubbed the back of his neck, shame twisting in his stomach. “Aw man, bro, sorry I broke your thing.”

Ford stiffened. Stan rushed to continue, afraid he’d said something wrong.

“But you can – can get a new one, right? And I can help. And then we can do the thing you wanted, hide the book, right? It’ll be like burying pirate treasure! Oh! If this is the future, did we get the Stan O’ War fixed?” He vibrated with excitement. “Is she seaworthy? Do we go sailing?”

“I’m trying to write, Stanley.” Ford said stiffly, coldly. He’d never used that voice with Stan before. It was unnerving. “Why don’t you go downstairs and get something to eat?”

“Uh… okay. Sure.” Stan mumbled, subdued. Maybe the Stan O’ War could wait.

For the first time he noticed the state of his clothes – well, cloth, since there was only one piece – a too-big shirt that hung off him like a huge smock. He considered asking for a change of clothes. But if he used to be a grownup, they would probably only have grownup clothes. Plus, Ford seemed pretty upset and Stan didn’t want to bother him.

So he held his tongue and wandered out of the room, into the rest of the house. It was big, and super messy. Stan passed what looked like a – a triangle shine? – as he explored a room that may have been a lounge. He poked his tongue out at it. The grumble of his stomach seemed very loud in the quiet. Ford was right, he hadn’t even realized he was hungry!

Eventually he found the kitchen. An investigation of the fridge showed it was empty except a quarter-full jar of peanut butter. Well, better than nothing. Stan found a spoon among the dishes and shuffled over to the dingy table to eat. He had to brush a few papers away to make space.

Okay. So this was really weird. Definitely not scary though. Stan refused to be scared. Even if he desperately missed the security of home, of having his brother by his side-

But this Ford was his brother –  just a bit older. And wasn’t that good? Ford was older, he knew what was going on, he could fix it. Stan just had to wait for him to make things go back to normal. And wasn’t it so cool that his nerd brother would grow up to be a nerdy scientist? He couldn’t wait to go back home and tell his Ford the adventure he’d gone on.

Secure once again, Stan decided to investigate this weird place. His Ford would wanna ask a lot of questions about it, after all. He shoved a final spoon of peanut butter into his mouth and jumped up to explore.

There was so much weird stuff here! Stan had no idea what half of it did. Though, that was true of a lot of things. He peered into some kind of office room with a chalk circle on the floor and candles scattered around, before deciding Ford probably wouldn’t like it if he messed with his stuff.

There was a door that, once opened, showed a dark, yawning staircase stretching out below. Stan peered around for a light switch. Finding none, he shrugged to himself and decided to brave it.

The stairs seemed to go on forever. Stan’s breathing and the tap-tap-tap of his footsteps seemed uncomfortably loud in the enclosed space. A flickering bluish light lit up whatever was below. Stan squinted to try and figure out what it was.

He soon found out, however, when he ended up in some huge lab. The majority of the space was taken up by some gigantic structure, a big circle like the kind you’d blow bubbles with but surrounded with technology junk. It looked like something straight out of Star Trek!

“Whoa.”

Stan walked over to a console to stare at all the buttons. Did Ford know how to use this thing? Did Ford build it? Jeez, he’d always known Ford was the smart twin but this was epic. And if Ford could build this thing, between the two of them the Stan O’ War was gonna be the greatest ship ever!

Stan paused. He knew he really shouldn’t be messing with Ford’s stuff, but that big red button was tempting him. Surely it couldn’t hurt to find out what this thing could do?

Stanley bit his lip, tossing up his options. He was spared from having to make a decision by stomping footsteps and a shout.

“Stanley!”

__________________________________________________________

In hindsight, letting a child roam freely around a house that doubled as a lab and testing site was… not the smartest move to make. In Ford’s defence he had been distracted when he suggested it. Stan had started talking about breaking projects, and that stupid boat, and it took every iota of Ford’s self-control to not snap and yell at him.

He’s a child. He has no memories of what happened. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.

After about twenty minutes of writing observations in his journal Ford had come to the conclusion that letting a child – even worse, Stanley – loose in this place could be dangerous. He closed his journal and descended to make sure he was staying out of trouble.

But Stanley wasn’t downstairs. He wasn’t anywhere Ford checked. With increasing distress Ford stuck his head outside to see if the child had ventured into the woods. No sign of him, and the thick layer of snow was untouched. But the only other place he could have gone was-

The lab.                                                                    

Ford cursed himself for not noticing that the door to the lab was hanging ajar. Stupid sleep deprivation! Ford stormed down the stairs, caught between fury and concern. What if Stan hurt himself?

When he reached the bottom, however, and found his brother staring at the portal’s controls, fury won out.

“Stanley!”

Stan snapped around guiltily. “Uh, hey, Ford-”

“What are you doing down here? This is my lab, it’s dangerous! You can’t touch anything!” Ford marched over and snatched his brother away from the controls. “What if you broke something? Or got hurt?”

Stan yelped. Ford tucked him under one arm and started back up the stairs, gritting his teeth.

“From now on you are not to come down here. Understood?”

“Mm hmm.” Stan mumbled. Once at the top of the stairs Ford placed him down to close and lock the door firmly. He turned back to Stan to continue the scolding, but… Stan looked like he was about to cry. His face was screwed up and he stared at the floor as if he could will away the tears that Ford could see gathering in his eyes.

A surge of guilt washed over Ford, which was ridiculous, because he had nothing to be guilty about. He sighed.

“Stanley, I…” What was there to say? “It’s late. I’ll set you up in the spare room.”

Stan sniffed and nodded.

  Luckily Stan had always been resilient, and he perked back up while Ford went about preparing the bed in the spare room. He hadn’t had visitors for so long that he’d started using it as a workbench.

This had been Fiddleford’s room, back when they had worked together. The thought of his old research assistant sent a spike of guilt through him. Yet another warning that he had ignored, and in the process he’d destroyed the one human friendship he had.

No, he didn’t have time to reminisce. Not with Stanley to deal with and the threat of Bill looming over him at any given time. Ford harshly shoved all thoughts of Fiddleford from his mind and threw a blanket over the bed. It wasn’t very thick but it would have to do.

He was lost in thought as he absently picked up his brother and placed him on the bed. There, problem solved. Ford had more important work to do. For starters, he had to figure out some way to get the unicorn hair he needed for a protective spell against Bill. Until he could put up the barrier it wouldn’t be safe to dismantle the portal, which meant Bill had a much better chance of figuring out how to get in and activate it.

He paused in the doorway to glance at his watch. What was the time, somewhere after midnight? Two-ish apparently. At daybreak he could try again to get the unicorn hair. But he also had to figure out how to cure Stan. Would it be better to leave that until after he had Bill-proofed his house? Stan would be in the way the whole time, but he would be less of an obstacle than he would be as an adult.

But then again, an adult Stan could drive away and be out of the equation entirely. While he was a child Ford was stuck with him. Also, adult Stan also might agree to take the journal when he found out that Ford had cured him. Yes, it was probably better to do that first-

“I can almost see yer ears smoking!”

The chirp made him jump. Ford whipped around to stare at Stanley, who was blinking at him from his spot on the bed.

“Ya were standing in the doorway looking blank for like, five minutes.” The child explained at Ford’s stare. “Watcha thinking about?”

Ford took a slow, steadying breath. “Truthfully? The situation I’m currently in. I have far too much on my plate, and very little time to deal with it.”

“Well, is there anything I can do?” Stan tipped his head. The action made him look rather like a puppy. Despite his tiredness and frustration, the sight made Ford’s mouth tip into a smile.

“I don’t suppose you can charm unicorns as well as you charm old people into giving you sweets?”

“Hey, I don’t make ‘em give me stuff, they just wanna! All I gotta do is play it up a bit.” Then Stan seemed to register the first statement. “Whoa, hold up. Did you say unicorns?”

“Yes, but believe me, they’re not quite as pleasant as the kind you’re imagining. And they very much dislike parting with their hair.” Ford’s lip curled. “Quite irritating, actually.”

“Where did you find unicorns?” Stan demanded excitedly, slipping off the bed to rush to Ford and grab his coat in chubby fists.

“The forest, of course. Gravity Falls is home to numerous creatures not found anywhere else in the world. Why do you think I moved here?” Ford couldn’t quite hold in a snort at the way his brother’s eyes sparkled. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen any gnomes already. They often sneak in to raid the pantry.”

“Are they here now? Can I see ‘em?” Stanley gasped out in a rush.

“No. I do have some sketches in my journal though…”

Stanley let out a whoop and darted past him. Ford watched him scramble up the stairs to where Ford’s room was. How did he… no, he’d woken up in Ford’s room, of course he knew where it was.

“Stanley!” Ford called after him. “Stan, you should be in bed!”

“I’m not tired!”

Oh, for the love of…

Ford sighed and followed, albeit at a slower pace. He had no idea how they’d had that much energy as children. It seemed boundless.

At any rate, he doubted Stanley would be getting to sleep any time soon, and he had to keep an eye on the child to make sure he didn’t get into any trouble. At least his presence shouldn’t hinder Ford too much. Stan could draw or look at pictures or whatever children did while Ford worked on finding a cure.

“FO-ORD!” Stanley yelled. “Come on, hurry up! You got so many books here! Are there mermaids in this weird place too? Oh my gosh there’s mermaids aren’t there? Which one’s your diary thing? I wanna SEE!”

“Coming.” Ford huffed out another sigh and picked up the pace.

[ihavelovednone]

S03E10 Mayans MC - Steve

I just really wanted to dive into Steve’s suicide and what I liked and disliked about his character and storyline on the show. And as most of you know by now, it’s gonna be a long one so if you don’t feel like reading all of it, I get it.

First of all It was really hard to watch, I gotta say and there was mainly one thing about Steve’s demise that I did not like, which I’ve stated in a short note on my previous blog. I wanna explain my feelings of that scene on a deeper level. And maybe also Steve as a person.

Steve as a prospect seemed off to me from the get go. He didn’t have a record, no knowledge of guns, or violence for that matter. He was clumsy and somewhat awkward. I concluded that maybe he nagged his way into prospecting for the club. I mean, I don’t think there’s a shortage of criminals wanting to establish themselves in organized crime and, also because I think there’s a certain level of status that Motorcycle Clubs hold within that crime-genre, so choosing Steve over someone more qualified (like it’s a job interview - God, I think I need to put the wine down now) is strange to say the least.

He seems to have had a relation to Hank way before Hank became his sponsor. Maybe he was Hank’s neighbor, or maybe his mother’s. I don’t know. But they knew each other somehow.

Prospecting This time Elgin did what I think prospecting for a club might be like, there were constant yelling at Steve about his uselessness, What the fuck, Steve? - which I know seems funny, but it’s not - it’s toxic. Every time the members say something to degrade Steve, they take a piece of him, a piece of his soul. It’s like domestic, psychological violence. The difference is, Steve’s not the female, the wife, and the members aren’t the husband. But nonetheless, it’s got the same effect. It may seem funny to some, when they’re throwing that comment at Steve, but I never really got it. The little comments here and there that breaks a person down little by little, it’s heartbreaking.

Steve was, before he entered the club, a very vulnerable young man with very low self worth and low self esteem, if any. He wanted to belong somewhere, and he thought that the club was what was going to take him to the heights within himself that he wanted to reach. With the club the confidence would automatically come. Like you could drink it out of a bottle. He’d be somebody. Almost like when the nerd gets the makeover and all of a sudden he’s got all the girls wanting him.

Macho culture I think Steve was oblivious to the fact that killing a person, it destroys something within you, it leaves a mark. In Steve, it’s the not being able to sleep, constantly thinking of that persons family that eventually destroys him. There’s probably stress and feelings of shame and fear there that won’t give up and all of a sudden there’s no other options left. Because boys don’t cry.

I think Elgin James did a good job showcasing the impact that killing a person has on someone, because we talk way too little about it. How PTSD occurs and how it manifests. Mostly it’s referred to as something that appears in soldiers. We never talk of the victims of bullying, the people that are victims of gun violence or domestic abuse. We never talk about the police officers, the firefighters, the paramedics, or anyone that experiences something traumatic. We never see these individuals as people that are being exposed to the possibility of experiencing PTSD.

Steve being ignored, no one seeing his clearly distressed persona, the fact that he got more cheers than people trying to reach out and letting him talk about what he experienced, that says a lot about our society and about macho culture. EZ trying to instill his own coping mechanisms into Steve, that says a lot about what’s been instilled in EZ and also society’s view of men as these walking raincoats where "sad feelings” just rolls right of them and down into a puddle on the floor. Again, boys don’t cry.

The suicide What I didn’t like about Steve’s fate was the fact that he committed suicide in the presence of the club members. It seemed to be just for shock value, and to drive EZ’s plot forward. Also, I don’t think many suicides occur like that. It kinda felt like they wanted to do a version of Pyle’s suicide in Full Metal Jacket (Stanley Kubrik, 1987) but failed because it’s unrealistic to the audience.

I think it would’ve been more impactful had Steve got to have his moment, so to speak, more impactful if he had committed suicide in the comfort of his own home. A dark and lonely bedroom would, to me at least, have a deeper impact because that’s where they often take place. It would’ve shown Steve’s inner and also outer loneliness. Because even if he was becoming a member of the club, he really didn’t have many friends and they never really saw him as a “brother”.

Also, as I’ve already mentioned, it really rubbed me the wrong way when they used his suicide to move someone else’s plot forward. EZ could’ve still been impacted greatly by Steve’s suicide. It didn’t have to end like that. The fact that EZ needed to witness a suicide to choose Gaby, that’s for another conversation. All I wanna say is: it takes away from the severity of Steve’s actions. It puts the focus on EZ, not Steve’s pain. It’s almost on the edge of romanticizing suicide.

Conclusion I thought Momo Rodriguez portrayal of Steve’s inner commotion was really moving, he nailed that performance, and it probably would have had the same impact, had it occurred somewhere else. Using suicide like this, to move a character forward, it’s not the way to go. Maybe it has to do with my own relations to suicide that impacts my view of it, I don’t know. It just doesn’t sit right.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

Disclaimer:  When commenting on this post, please refrain from using the term “killed himself/yourself”. Mental illness affects many and suicidality is one of many side effects. Referring to a persons suicide as them “killing themselves” takes away from the severity of the illness. Suicide is never a choice, killing yourself is.

[fillingthescrapbook]

Rewriting The CW's Kung Fu, Part 9: Reflections and Moving Forward

And we have reached the end of our Kung Fu journey. If you haven't seen where we began, here's a handy guide to the previous posts:

Part 1: The Characters

Part 2: The Pilot

Part 3: The Mythology

Part 4: The Story Map

Part 5: Act I

Part 6: Act II

Part 7: Act III

Part 8: The Finale

Before I start with the lessons I learned and my other reflections, I want to thank @flailingbloo for all of her help and support in this endeavor. Without her to talk to and commiserate with, I would probably have gotten stuck in Act II forever and everything I've written would've been riddled with spelling errors and grammatical mistakes. So my eternal gratitude to flailingbloo. And now, we begin:

Lessons.

Going into this writing exercise, I already knew it was going to be hard. Writing stories is time-consuming, it's nerve-wracking, and it takes a lot of research...and patience. Writing, especially for television, is also not a solitary task. I mean, sure, the writing itself needs to be done alone--but everything that comes before, during, and after the writing needs input from so many people.

Although I have a lot (and I mean A LOT) of complaints about how The CW's Kung Fu was handled and written, I do have a lot of respect for the work that the writers put into their scripts. And I do appreciate all that they have done to have a show like this produced.

Doing this rewrite, I learned that it's really important to make the main character likeable. Like, every episode I broke down, I had to ask myself: is Nicky likeable here? Is she someone who viewers would want to root for? Like, for me she is, but only people who read what I wrote can say for sure. My perspective is now a bit skewered because I have bias.

Second, story maps are very helpful. There were times, especially during Part 6 (where I wrote breakdowns for Episodes 6 to 9) where I kept getting road-blocked by where I want the story to go. So I went back to the story map over and over again, to remind myself--where does the story itself need to go? How do I help the characters get to the point where they're ready for what needs to happen? (This is also where flailingbloo helped the most for me. Like, she really reminded me why I was doing this rewrite in the first place. Because I care about Nicky and the show. I wouldn't have funneled so much of my time and effort into this if I didn't.)

Another thing I learned, or rather re-learned, is the art of letting go. I created the character of Stanley to recur throughout the series as a reminder of who Nicky was and who she is becoming. And then I finished writing the first act without even mentioning him. By the second act, I was ready to use him finally--but, after multiple false starts, I realized Stanley was one of the reasons why I was having a hard time pushing Nicky's story forward. Because I kept trying to go back to the past. So I decided in the writing of the second act to shelve Stanley completely, only to find him popping up in the second to last episode in a, at least I hope, more organic way.

The last thing I learned in this exercise was that, whenever a new character needs to come in, I have to look at my existing characters first to see if any one of them can fulfill the role I needed for the story. Like, creating new villains for Nicky was fun, sure--but, at the same time, I realized that there were already existing villains that could recur. Like the Triad, who played villains in two more episodes after the pilot; and Henry's martial arts class at the community center became the source of two existing storylines from the actual show.

Reflections.

Do I think what my rewrite is better than the show? To me, yes. But, again, I am very biased. That said, I am proud of how I utilized the characters that the show created and didn't really give much importance to. Dennis, when he was introduced, felt like a rich character that could provide a very different point-of-view from the Shen siblings--but he was mostly relegated to being eye-candy. And I thought I gave him more meat by making him more involved in Althea's sexual harassment storyline, while also involving him in Nicky's stories.

That said, I also realize that I wasn't able to play up Nicky and Evan's past relationship as I was writing the episodic breakdowns. I was able to give them a lot of opportunities to explore their chemistry together, as I did with Nicky and Henry, but I kind of dropped the ball as a writer on guiding those planted moments into something more significant. Granted, I only wrote breakdowns and not actual scripts. Maybe I could've explored the romance angle more with a little sprinkle of direction and dialogue.

As I went deeper into the rewrite, I do see how easy it is to fall in love with characters as you write them. It's very easy to trap yourself into wanting villains to be more well-rounded. I keep having to remind myself that I don't have to redeem everyone. Just Nicky. Which became harder and harder as I went further and further into the story.

Another thing that became difficult as I went on? Keeping the mythology from just bursting open. That's how Henry, as I wrote him, evolved into becoming the son of a guardian--just so there's a reason for him to be so invested in Nicky's quest, while also having someone who can explain things to our main character. I'm actually really proud of that evolution.

All that said, I also have to recognize that I rewrote the show with the benefit of hindsight and the lack of budget constraints. In the real show, there's a group of writers who each have their own ideas of what the show should be. (This is where a head writer--not a show runner--would come in handy, so they could reel in the story to what needs to be told.) With more writers comes more chances for inconsistencies to happen. (And this is where a script supervisor, or a writing assistant, could come in handy.) And then there's production notes and budget. Not to mention, you know, the whole pandemic that's still happening. I didn't have to think about those things while doing this rewrite.

So, again, I want to give the writers kudos to actually producing scripts. I hope they haven't lost their minds--or their will to write--just because there are people like me who nitpick at everything. That's what people who love things do. We nitpick because we care.

Moving forward.

I do plan to stick with the real show for Season 2. I hope it's planned better. I hope they get researchers (plural!) and a writing assistant to help in the writing room. I hope the writers would sit down with the cast to discuss and develop the characters more. And I really hope they hire a better fight choreographer and fight director for the second season. (Like, rehire the people who choreographed and filmed the flashback scene in... Episode 11? The one with Nicky's maternal grandmother and Pei-Ling's own mother?)

I hope that the Nicky-Henry relationship gets explored realistically, and if a potential new love interest is ordered, they get introduced in a way that isn't antagonistic. Make them more well-rounded characters too, please. Make us want to root for their success. And while I think Nicky doesn't have an iota of chemistry with Evan, I do like Evan himself as a character. So I hope they get him more involved in future storylines--as an outsider looking in, sure, but also as an honorary member of the Shen family.

With regards to the Shen family, I do hope that we get to explore their relationships and dreams more before the show drops the reveal about Mei-Xue's daughter. I want Althea to have a cohesive storyline that doesn't pause for no reason. I want Ryan to explore being Asian AND gay as a first-generation Asian-American. And give the Shen siblings some recurring friends. They don't have to be semi-regulars (unless there's a story that can be explored) but let's not keep the Shens in a bubble. It was weird in the first season. Especially for Althea whose friends only showed up for her bachelorette party and never again. Not even when she was panicking about wedding preparations, which, considering how rich Dennis's parents were? They wouldn't let Althea be in charge of anything. They would hire a Chinese wedding coordinator. And an expensive and hard-to-book one at that. They donated an entire hospital wing, for crying out loud.

I want Jin to have an actual character, and not just be the supportive dad who loves his kids very much (admittedly my own rewrite also made this same mistake). And I want Mei-Li to be consistent as a character. Like, no more surprise twists about being the descendant of a legendary warrior without proper foreshadowing and plot-planting please.

Dennis shouldn't just be eye-candy. The same applies to Kerwin. Sure, I get that shirtless men are a must in a CW series, but please give their characters some meat too. Dennis's nerd-side was never showcased in the show, and Kerwin had that poor little rich boy background that didn't get explored either. Because the show was too busy keeping him and Zhi-Lan tearing each others' clothes off--when they're not tearing other people down.

Also, don't drop the ball on the tease that Bian-Ge is now everywhere. If I understood correctly, Bian-Ge is Kung Fu's version of Qi. If yes, then I hope they treat it respectfully as a force of nature--and not just the source of magic. The flowers from Bian-Ge itself can be magical, sure, I have no problem with a fictional flower being a McGuffin.

Finally, I hope the show also explores other Asian communities and cultures. Like, Kung Fu is great--but imagine if Nicky had to face someone who is versed in Silat Melayu? Or someone who uses Arnis? Someone who practices Kalaripayattu or Lathi Khela? Or Kuntao? Imagine Nicky having to use Wing Chun against someone who uses Karate or Krav-Maga? Asia is a big continent and there are so many different types of martial arts found from the Middle East to Southeast Asia. Kung-Fu is an umbrella term, so it'll be great to see the different styles found under it.

... This went long again. Sorry about that. Funny thing is, when I started this whole rewriting plan? I thought it would take three posts, tops. And look at us now. Nine posts deep, and it seems I still haven't run out of things to say. So I'm cutting myself off before I completely wear out my welcome.

But if you've read all my Kung Fu posts, please do reach out. Let's discuss the show and what it can do to produce a better second season.

[kingofthecon]

Verses I Miss Writing In: Post #1

Codename: Kids Next Door

I used to write as Numbuh 1 and Numbuh 2. For some reason the drive to write in the verse again is incredibly strong, and yet I want to do a Galactic version since we never got the sequel series. At the same time I want to turn it into another headcanon which means I have another one that I need to add to the list. This one, at least, needs to be fleshed out more. I need to give them a sector and figure out what numbers they’d be.

So it started off as a really strong want to rewatch the series. I haven’t rewatched it in years, and I still haven’t watched it. The drive just came out of nowhere. And then I went to sleep. It was probably that pizza from the fridge that’s been in there for a bit, but that’s not the point. I had a dream about it and Gravity Falls and my stories with @ursaedip and I...

It’s a branch off of Relativity Falls where Stan is a KND Operative along with Ford, though Ford operates all over the place due to them needing his scientific expertise for the 2x4 technologies. Stealing a line from Scrooge McDuck, Ford is smarter than the smarties. Stan is pretty average here - another headstrong kid who tosses his fists around, and I mean fighting adult tyranny? Heck yeah. Caryn isn’t one of the evil adults but Filbrick? Oooooooooooooooooooh boy howdy is he a villain. Stan and Ford don’t know this (it’s more like Ford’s in denial and Stanley is like, “Pa’s mean but he’s not a villain!”) Filbrick isn’t exactly on Grandfather or Father’s level, but he’s definitely up there.

Then when their older and get decommissioned Ford is approached by various colleges seeking out bright minds. The KND has to keep an eye on him because he’s going to be dangerous if the adults get a hold on him. Ford, however, is well aware of what’s going on. Come on guys, Ford would never allow himself to get decommissioned. He’s tampered with the tech to keep his memories like pfffft. Stanley doesn’t remember though. And since in this AU (which I want to extend into my Dad!Stan AU) Stanley has a daughter - she’s in the KND now, and Stan is just like, “My daughter and her crazy imagination. You fight those evil adults. Give’em a left hook for me. Talk to Ford have him make you some junk.” So now it’s Ford helping his niece on the low pretending that he’s making her some highly advanced toys when they really are weapons. Eventually she figures him out though and is at a loss because honestly he’s helping kids fight evil adults and he’s her uncle. She can’t just out him, especially when there are adults looking to reel him into their cause. 

And yeah, that’s all I have. Chances are I’ll just take all of this and toss it in the AU and Headcanon section, lmao.

[letterboxd]

Watching John Malkovich.

To understand better why Letterboxd members set out on quests to watch specific actors’ entire filmographies, we invited Tim Rod to describe her dangerous and seductive journey through John Malkovich’s screen history.

For many film lovers, 2020 has been a year of catching up: on franchises, on directors’ filmographies, on historical gaps and top 100s. But for some Letterboxd members, the year indoors has been an opportunity to hyper-focus on a single actor and their work.

Jeremiah Lambert is on a Bacon Fest, Naked Airplane has embarked on a wild ride through the works of De Niro, Hackman, Hoffman, Nicholson and Pacino. Joey is preparing for next year’s centennial of The Kid by churning through Charlie Chaplin’s catalog (with David Robinson’s biography Chaplin: His Life and Art in hand). A quick Twitter survey found others churning through a performer selection as wide-ranging as Burt Lancaster, Parker Posey, Maggie Smith, Nicolas Cage, Cary Grant, Kevin Costner, Robin Williams, Adèle Haenel, Alan Arkin, Sam Rockwell and a Seth Rogen thirst project.

It can be a bumpy journey. In one performer’s oeuvre the quality will range widely, the genres too. But the rewards are many in a close study of craft, and there are revelations, whether it’s that Australia’s Miranda Otto deserves more recognition, or it’s “the total acceptance, lack of judgment, and vulnerability with which Alan Arkin has played so many of his flawed and wonderful characters”.

With Christian Bale in ‘Empire of the Sun’ (1987).

In 2020, no fewer than three movies and two television series starring John Malkovich have been released: Arkansas, Valley of the Gods and Ava, as well as The New Pope and Space Force. The legendary actor has kept himself busy, and I know this because I have seen most of his filmography—41 films and two series—in the span of a single month. I adore Malkovich, always have, and I came out of this experience with a deeper admiration for him, and with some thoughts about his unique, remarkable skills as an actor. (And, I had a really good time.)

Allow me to begin by saying that John Malkovich is the best part of every movie he is in. No matter the movie, Malkovich will always steal the spotlight, and he can turn a good movie into a masterpiece, or an average movie that wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention into one worth watching, if only to see him do his thing.

He’s starred in movies that are considered masterpieces by many: Being John Malkovich (1999), The Killing Fields (1984) and Empire of the Sun (1987). Movies that may be considered the opposite of masterpieces, like Supercon (2018), Eragon (2006) and the most recent Ava (2020), and he’s also starred in some gems that I knew nothing about but am glad to have discovered, such as The Convent (1995), Eleni (1985) and The Ogre (1996). Malkovich has brought to life iconic characters including Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Tom Ripley, Hercule Poirot (in BBC’s The ABC Murders), the artist Gustav Klimt, and several of David Lynch’s people, in the short film Psychogenic Fugue (2016).

As Mitch Leary in ‘In the Line of Fire’ (1993).

Malkovich has received two Academy Award nominations, for Places in the Heart (1984), in which he played Edna’s lodger, the solitary yet kind Mr. Will, and for In the Line of Fire (1993), where he played the complete opposite: the psychotic Mitch Leary, determined to kill the President of the United States. Though Malkovich is not a classic action-film actor, his work in that genre is driven by logic, intellect and emotion, and the delicacy that he employs to challenge concepts of masculinity and keep us guessing. His soft and collected voice threatening Clint Eastwood over the phone is scarier and more effective than a deeper one would have been.

That voice. Malkovich has admitted that he hates the sound of it, that he would always avoid listening to it, just like so many actors avoid watching their own films, but I’m bewitched by his voice and I could never get enough of it. It can be tender, sweet and calming, seductive when the role requires it, and terrifying. With that versatility, it’s not surprising that he has done some narrating work as well, for films including Paul Newman’s The Glass Menagerie (1987) and Alive (1993).

Malkovich is at his best when seduction and villainy combine, as they do in Dangerous Liaisons (1988). Vicomte Sébastien de Valmont has been performed by many actors over the years, but I find Malkovich’s take to be the most memorable and exquisite. He captures perfectly the depravity and evilness of Valmont, but also the nuances, his journey from womanizer to man genuinely in love and, ultimately, his tragic redemption. He even brings a comedic aspect to the character that adds more depth and dimension.

With Glenn Close in ‘Dangerous Liaisons’ (1988).

Valmont is an awful human being, a monster even, and yet, every time I watch this movie, I find myself fascinated by his mastery of the deception, his sensuality and complete control of the situation, until the situation is “beyond his control”. In her review of the film, Catherine Stebbins calls John Malkovich “a sexual force of nature”, and I completely agree. If you want to see more of Malkovich’s sensual side, other notable mentions include The Sheltering Sky (1990), The Object of Beauty (1991) and Beyond the Clouds (1995).

And then there’s Being John Malkovich (1999), in which ‘John Horatio Malkovich’ displays so many facets of his craft. The fictionalized Malkovich is possessed by different characters, one of them a woman. Catherine Keener’s character falls in love with a subtly different version of Malkovich, when he is a vessel for Lotte (Cameron Diaz). Even though Lotte doesn’t have full control of Malkovich, he uses his femininity to bring the character-inside-the-character to center stage, delivering a subtle-yet-perfect performance. Even when we don’t see Lotte, we know she’s there.

John Malkovich as John Horatio Malkovich possessed by Lotte, in ‘Being John Malkovich’ (1999).

Not many actors could pull this off as brilliantly as John Malkovich does. To be fair, not many actors have been given the chance that Spike Jonze and Charlie Kaufman gave Malkovich: a film with his own name in the title.

I’ve discussed some of the most well-known of Malkovich’s performances, but I’d like to mention an overlooked one that I found heartbreaking and noteworthy. I didn’t know of the existence of The Ogre (1996) until I took a closer look at Malkovich’s filmography. It’s not without its flaws, but I found myself absorbed in the fairy-tale story of Abel, a naïve French prisoner of war who is taken to Nazi Germany and used to recruit children for Hitler’s Youth. Once again, the actor’s duality is on display, as Evan writes in his Letterboxd review: “Malkovich is both queasy and endearing as the (ig)noble simp who just wants to save the babies.” The Ogre tells a tragic story, but thanks to Malkovich’s tenderness, we can’t help but have sympathy for his character. At times it reminded me of the innocence of Lennie in Of Mice and Men (1992), another of the actor’s more noteworthy performances.

One of Malkovich’s great contributions to cinema is elevating an average movie just by being in it. One such role is as English conman Alan Conway in the bizarre true story, Colour Me Kubrick (2005). Malkovich admitted in an interview that he thought his performance was good, and I agree. If there’s one reason to watch that film, it’s to see Malkovich playing an eccentric conman who poses as Stanley Kubrick, using different voices and accents. As TajLV writes, “if there were anything to commend this film other than Malkovich, I’d happily rate it higher”.

As Alan Conway in ‘Colour Me Kubrick’ (2005).

One fun fact: I sometimes forget John Malkovich is American. Maybe it’s because he has starred in many European productions—out of the 41 films I watched, 18 were European. Malkovich is of European descent, has lived in France for a decade and speaks fluent French, which allowed him to star as the mysterious Baron de Charlus in Time Regained (1999), with entirely French dialogue. He also delivers lines in French and Portuguese in A Talking Picture (2003) by Manoel de Oliveira.

You’ve probably heard Malkovich use words, expressions and even entire lines of French dialogue on more than one occasion. He does this often, which gives him a certain European vibe, consistent with his own character, mannerisms and dress sense—elements that he sometimes brings to his characters. Maybe that’s the reason he has played so many intellectuals and artists: professors, scientists, detectives, painters, writers, a scientist and a robot, and even the Pope… It seems there’s nothing John Malkovich can’t do, including directing.

To end my marathon, I watched his directorial debut, The Dancer Upstairs (2002), an assured movie adapted from a novel about the Maoist uprising in Peru in the 1980s, starring Javier Bardem. It was a nice surprise, and a strong start to what could have been a career as a film director, if not for the fact that he doesn’t have the patience to do it again. I recently read an interview where Edgar Wright revealed advice he always gives to directors, which is to make their second movie the one that will define them. I wonder if we will ever see John Malkovich’s second film, but for now, I hope he keeps gifting us with more unforgettable performances. At least we know that in the distant future, along with all the movies he has already appeared in, people will enjoy a never-seen-before performance when Robert Rodríguez’s short 100 years is released in 2115.

If there’s one thing I have learnt after watching most of his filmography, it’s that John Malkovich is one of the best and most versatile actors of our time, with the most unique voice I have heard in cinema, and with a rich filmography that encompasses every genre. And he’s not only a brilliant actor, but also someone I find personally fascinating. I truly find comfort in him. I hope we all get to enjoy his art for years to come, because his talent is limitless and I know he still has so much more to give. John Malkovich deserves all the praise for being a force of nature in the theater and film industry for over 40 years.

Tim is a Letterboxd member based in Spain, who has recently moved on from her John Malkovich marathon to a Sacha Baron Cohen quest.

[maareyas]

Au silver backstory time :] Repost bc tumblr drafts erased the last version. also this is part 1. NOW WITH ADDED BACKGROUND LORE AND ANGST!

edit: i forgot to link to the original pic

First! Some background on the state of the future! unlike 06, this silver's future isn't covered in flames and ash. rather, its empty and lifeless. endless, barren wastelands with only little plant life and the scattered ruins of cities/other structures left of a previously vibrant world. this future is the direct result of the metal virus, abt 300 years later (instead of 200 like in canon). everything that was infected during sonic's present had already disintegrated. things that were infected much later still remain, though. this is why, while most of the world has been cleared of the virus, there are still some areas that DO have it. and why most plantlife on the planet went poof.

There were survivors of the original outbreak who were able to avoid the virus. So there’s still people in the future world. Borrowing from evan stanley’s concepts for the Silver Age saga of the archie comics, moving settlements like Onyx City exist. These cities are indifferent/hostile to outsiders who want in though. As a result, everyone outside these settlements are nomadic, travelling alone or in small groups at most. Resources are scarce, after all.

Now onto silver’s actual backstory. Silv has been alone his whole life. I do not vibe with the idea of giving canon charas blood relatives for some reason, so the circumstance of his birth are a mystery lol. Silver drifts from place to place, trying to survive and trying to uncover what happened in the past. He’s a sort of archeologist! He explores ruins of the past world and pieces together history from the things he can find in faded books and partially corrupted computers. He doesn’t know much, only that the world was lively 300 years ago. He wonders what happened that made everything so desolate.

Silver has met and befriended other nomads before. Given the situation though, becoming an actual companion is a no-no. At most, he runs into them one or two times and never sees them again. Groups tend to be more hostile to outsiders like him since he might try to join them. More people = more mouths to feed, and possibly, the collapse of the existing internal structure.

So yeah, silver is a VERY lonely boy. But not to worry, its time for…….Found Family Trope.

On one of his Ruins ExplorationsTM Silver runs into prof. Von schlemmer and the Bits, who were doing the same. They decide to team up on their search. They talk about their shared interest in uncovering the past, as well as their life (well. Schlemmer does anyway. Silver didn’t have much of his life to take about). Schlemmer talks about how he was kicked out of Onyx City for reasons I haven’t decided yet. Probably something to do with being too curious about the past? Idk. He now lives in a makeshift mobile lab he made himself. So ye basically the whole ruins exploring thing become a bonding moment

Schlemmer then asks if silver would like to become his assistant or smth. Silver, of course, having been alone for so long, is beyond overjoyed at the idea of having a home and a friend. Ecstatic, he accepts schlemmer’s offer. So Found Family stuff happens. Schlemmer just sorta. Becomes Silver’s dad. His weird science dad. They go around exploring ruins, uncovering stuff about the past, and doing general father-son Mad Science. Schlemmer also makes a personal Bit for silver! Since I’m bad with names its name is Sil-bit until I can think of something else

Eventually, they gather enough information to pinpoint a general timeframe for when things went to hell and led to the future being ruined. They have a plan to change past events, and Schlemmer has already built the time machine, but is reluctant to use it. Now that the chance is here, he’s begun to second-guess the idea for several reasons: 1.) the time machine isn’t exactly fully tested. 2.) Changing history is a risky idea even by his standards. Silver convinces him to go through with the plan, however, and even volunteers to be the one to travel back in time.

So they do that. Silver and Sil-bit timetravel to Sonic’s present. But since they aren’t sure exactly what event was the catalyst for the Bad Future, silver goes back and forth between time periods during every major event (maybe changing this event worked?). Schlemmer is intact in all instances, if not a bit disoriented memory-wise due to the timeline changes.

Once the metal virus hits, silver puts two and two together and realizes this is the catalyst event for the ruined future. So! They deal with it, Silver is relieved. He travels to the future again, more hopeful this time.

When he gets there, EVERYTHING is different. There are cities! There’s plants! There’s people! There’s LIFE! He tries to look for Von Schlemmer in this new future…

But he doesn’t find him. The timeline changed was so drastic this time, the old Schlemmer he knew isn’t there anymore. Instead, he finds New Future! Von Schlemmer who has no knowledge of silver or the previous timeline. Silver is devastated by this, but they knew that this was a possibility. So, he tries to make a new life for himself in this new future, despite his grief.

But then he starts glitching out. As if his atoms are trying to tear themselves apart. This part is kinda vague but, probably with New! Schlemmer’s help, Silver realizes that he erased himself from the timeline.

Silver doesn’t know what to do, so he timetravels back to Sonic’s present, still glitching out. Compared to when he was in the future however, he’s glitching out less.

lucky for him, sonic just happened to be passing by when he gets spat out the time portal or whatever. Sonic carries him to help, so silver can focus on using his psychokinesis to calm down his atoms. not a ship thing, i just want to see friends being Soft

[ryanhamiltonwalsh]

The Boston Poet Who Wrote ‘Return of the Grievous Angel’

This is filed under something you’d think I had known about for a long time but had never heard until this week.

I’ve long considered “Return of the Grievous Angel” to be the quintessential Gram Parson song, evocative of his entire life and career, recorded shortly before his death and released posthumously. A few days ago, my friend Thom casually delivered some shocking information to me on Facebook: the lyrics were not penned by Parsons, but rather a poet from Boston who handed him the lyrics at a concert in 1973 and was not credited until much, much later.

What.

As someone who spent years completely lost in the world of Boston rock n roll minutiae, this is precisely the kind of stray story that would have landed on my desk and captured my attention. But it’s better late than never to let you step into my parlor and tell me how it all went down.

Oliver’s was a Lansdowne St rock club next to Fenway Park. It’s the spot where the Cask N Flagon now resides. One of the final Velvet Underground shows—the last gasp version with Doug Yule and some fellas who had never shared a stage with Lou Reed—would get booked at Oliver’s a few months after this Parsons residency. 

Parsons, of course, had plenty of Boston connections at this point—his mid-60′s stint at Harvard (giddily covered by the Boston Globe), forming the International Submarine Band in Cambridge, and reappearing triumphantly a few years later on tour with his Flying Burrito Brothers at the original Boston Tea Party club in 1969. [Side note: this letter Gram wrote to a friend about having to be associated with Dylan “like it or not” is very funny to me.]

There wasn’t much about the Boston poet in David N. Meyer’s excellent book about Parsons and I didn’t have access to any of the other GP bios; eventually I was tipped off to two excellent posts about the story, this Night Flight piece and this excellent account where the author tracked down the poet himself. I recommend reading those both because everything below is going to be a reaction the information found within them.

The essentials are that a young poet named Thomas Stanley Brown wrote the lyrics in about 20 minutes thinking both of his own life and Parsons, went to one of the shows at Oliver’s, chatted with Emmy Lou Harris, got the lyrics to Parsons road manager, and then never saw or heard from Parsons ever again.

After those Boston shows Parsons and his wife went home to California. In July, their house burned down. Around August, Parsons recorded some songs for an album in Los Angeles. In September, he overdosed. The following January his last solo album, consisting of those August songs, was released. No one could have been more surprised to hear the album’s first song than Thomas Stanley Brown. - Twelve Stories

Brown wrote letters trying to get credited for the lyrics with no luck. Different sources say his name was lost in a fire at the Parsons’ Topanga home or that Gram had intended to claim it as his own all along. Eventually, in 1982 a letter to Emmy Lou Harris did the trick and a writing credit—as well as royalties—was bestowed to Brown. As the Twelve Story piece so wisely points out, this is a collaboration between an artist whose infamous life story is always threatening to overshadow his work and a poet we know literally almost nothing about.

What I love about this strange saga—beyond the Boston connection—is how unlikely it all is. You’d be lucky to get a reply to a letter you handed a performer at a concert, never mind expect to hear your unsolicited lyrics turned into one of the performer’s final and best songs. But there’s another layer of surrealness I didn’t see addressed in any of the writing about the song (yet) that I’d like to point out as well.

Because Brown was writing both about himself and thinking about Gram possibly singing it (even noting "the king” with an “amphetamine crown" was an explicit reference to Gram, according to Ben Fong-Torres), there's a few lines that become really eerie here.

"The news I could bring I met up with the king, On his head an amphetamine crown. He talked about unbucklin’ that ol’ bible belt, And lightin’ out for some desert town."

In light of Brown’s intent—to reflect his own experiences but with Gram in mind too—one way to read these lines is that it’s an account of Brown meeting Parsons that night followed by a kind of premonition of where the singer was headed—i.e. Parsons ending up Joshua Tree (a desert town if there ever was one) where his life would sadly end. To think that Parsons sang those lyrics a few months later, probably completely unaware that he was singing from the POV of the poet in the bar writing about imagining meeting Gram Parsons, is just mind boggling. I can’t think of another collaboration quite like it. There are so many levels of awareness here; it’s a meta-recursive-loop-spiral set to a beautiful melody—a modern country standard with a postmodern past it doesn’t like to say much about.

As the Twelve Stories piece notes, not much is known about Brown due to his preference for privacy; “All the essentials regarding Return of the Grievous Angel have already been made public,” he replied to one query. However, someone named Thomas Stanley Brown does have a Twitter account. It doesn’t look like he’s ever tweeted his own words, preferring to retweet messages from various country music performers instead. In his profile photo he’s standing with Lucinda Williams—who presented her own powerful version of “Return of the Grievous Angel” in 1999. This Thomas Brown is wearing a Sweetheart of the Rodeo t-shirt, the lone Byrds LP to feature Parsons.

That’s gotta be him.

There’s the Boston poet who authored a giant puzzle piece of the myth of Gram Parsons in 20 minutes.

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Meet me in the past

Summary: After Stanley Uris takes his own life, his daughter goes to find the recipients of his letters and ends up in Derry. After and incounter with IT, she ends up traveling back into the past, meeting the younger version of her dad and his friends. 

AN: So this is gonna be multiple parts and yeah that’s about all I have to say lol. Let me know what you think! 

warnings: suicide mentions, a few curse words 

The bus ride to Derry, did not take as long as Emily expected. She supposed that she had gotten lost in thought but that wasn’t exactly true. Emily had dozed off, which seemed impossible to her now. Still, the small nap hadn’t done anything good. Quite the opposite actually, now that the edge of the exhaustion had been taking off, it was impossible not to notice her growling stomach, her impending headache, her tense muscles and the way she couldn’t keep her leg still no matter what she tried. 

Her bouncing leg was a tell sign that she was nervous, and it was one both her dad and mom had tried to dispose of. It never worked, and after a while her parents just gave up, resorting to squeezing her hand whenever the bouncing got to bad. The thought of her parents made Emily sob. She quickly pressed the palm of her hand against her mount, the couple in front of her and a shady man looked her way, seeing her cry, but then they turned around as if they hadn’t seen anything. Emily tried to wipe her tears away, but she wasn’t even sure why she tried. 

She didn’t understand how everything could turn out so badly. Just a week ago she had been so excited, she had asked her dad if they could go see a new theater piece. Emily had always been a fan of that sort of thing, and she knew her dad didn’t mind it either. He had laughed at her excitement before kissing her head and agreeing to go. It was their thing, Stan would always greet her with a kiss to the head, and she would always respond by doing the same to him. 

Only 3 days ago, right before Stanley Uris took his last bath, their routine had changed. She had come home from school a little later than usual, because she had studied in the library, and she got home on the exact moment her dad put down the phone. He had looked more scared, more pale than Emily had ever seen him, and so she had cautiously approached him. His eyes had been wild and scared, and as soon as she came into his line of vision, she could see that he was looking at her up and down. He got closer and whipped some of her hair away, to look at the bruise she had gotten because she fell of her bike on her way to school. He inspected it closer, and she had pulled away laughing, but she abruptly stopped once she saw the grimace on Stanley’s face. He had hugged her then, so tightly it almost felt as if she couldn’t breathe, and kissed her head a couple of times in quick succession. When she had asked him if he was okay, he said that he was going to take a bath. Emily had stared at him until he disappeared inside the bathroom door, and it was the last time she would ever see him. 

Now, as she was staring at the woods the bus passed, Emily mostly felt guilty. It was a change from the past days, in which she had only felt sadness and sorrow, and maybe even though she would never admit it, not even too herself, a little angry. Now she felt guilty for leaving her mom all alone, while she was off to meet people she had never heard about. 

The letters in her bag felt like lead though, the very reason she decided to go to Derry. She didn’t know who any of these people were, but clearly they’re important because her dad wrote them letters. He hadn’t even written her a letter. She tried not to dwell on it too much, she could already feel the resentment towards these unknown people grow, and she hadn’t even met them yet. He had left her mother a note, but Patty didn’t have it in herself to read it yet, so Emily had respected her wishes and didn’t open it.

She was desperate to know what was on them, because she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried, figure out why he had done it. She hadn’t noticed anything unusual about him in the last week, and if she was honest, it terrified her. How could she not have known that her dad was going to do something so drastic and horrific? Emily had considered herself pretty close with her dad, especially when she compared herself to her friends, yet Stan’s deed came so unexpected, she wondered if she had ever really known her dad at all.

She shook her head, she wasn’t going down this path, not yet. First she had a mission, and she was determined to complete it before she would allow herself to breakdown. She took the letters out of her bag once more, as she had been doing the entire trip here. Stan, with his neat handwriting, had written 6 names, none that sounded all that familiar to her. Beverly, Mike, Ben, Bill, Eddie and Richie. It was actually Richie’s names that caused a bell to go off in her head. She had gone to watch one of his shows once, with her parents, but Stan had gotten sick and ran off in the middle of it, and Patty and her had followed. Stan hadn’t giving an explanation, he himself didn’t know what happened, but they had left early and Emily had never asked him to go to one of his shows again. When she found the letters, after her mother had went with the ambulance and she was alone, she had instantly recognized his name.

It was weird, seeing the name of a random comedian on one of his suicide letters, but Emily had been strictly against opening his herself. While her mother didn’t want to look at hers, Emily didn’t want to look at theirs, out of fear of what they might say. It further fueled her suspicions though, that she hadn’t really known her father at all. She was brought out her mind when the bus came to a stop. She waited, patiently as her parents had taught her, until everyone had excited before she too got off the bus. She bid adieu to the ugly, green, uncomfortable bus sheet she had spent almost an entire day on, and inhaled the fresh air once she finally got out into the open.

The air in Derry was chilled, and Emily wished she had taken a jacket in her hurry to get out of her house. She and patty had been staying with her grandparents, and she had only returned to grab some clothes, which meant most of the blood was still in the bathroom. Emily had screamed until her voice was hoarse and then waited until she felt stable enough to get up and walk towards the bus stop, no one would ever found out about her breakdown. She didn’t know exactly where to go from here. In fact it was a miracle that she had even managed to find the town in the first place. After finding the letters, she had realized that her dad had just gotten of a phone call before he did what he did, so she had looked through his phone and called back the number which had called him. The call came from a town called Derry, and Emily had only known that was where her father was born because her dad mentioned it. Once. He mentioned it once. 

When she called back a man answered on the phone. ‘Stan, are you okay’? The man had asked, and he had sounded genuinely concerned for him. ‘Stan, it’s Mike are you alright’? Emily had dropped the phone in an instant. Mike was one of the people her dad left a letter too. 

It was by coincidence that she heard people in the hospital talk about how the famous comedian ‘trashmount Tozier’ had suddenly taken a break from his tour, to return to his hometown. She didn’t know If Richie was also born in Derry, but she was willing to take her changes. 

She didn’t really know what she was doing now, she had spent an agonizing 36 hours on her way to Derry, yet not once had she thought about what she would do once she actually got there. Almost as if there was a cosmic force at play, her father's phone, which she had put in her pocket, went off. The sound was shrill, and it hurt Emily’s ears. The rest of the town was so quiet, like there wasn’t another living soul in this town, and it frankly creeped her out. 

She fished the phone out with great difficulty, but to her surprise there was no indication that the phone had went of in the first place. She frowned, and checked the phone over again, but no new messages showed up. It did give her an idea though. She went back to incoming calls, to find Mike’s number once more. Her finger hovered above it for a few seconds, and she was hit with a feeling of uncertainty. 

What was she doing? She had just rushed off with these letters, to people who didn’t even know her, leaving her poor mother behind to grieve on her own. Still, she did her best to shake off the feeling, it would do her no good to ponder on this now. She needed to find a place to stay, and quick. 

With determination, she clicked the number, holding the phone up to her ear and waiting for it to ring. Before long, the male voice answered again. ‘Stan? Stan were are you? The rest of us is already here. Are you lost? Do you need someone to come pick you up’? Mike’s voice sounded winded. Emily realized that he was probably a little tipsy. In the background she could hear people laughing and having fun. She was about to destroy that however, once she told the news about her father. 

‘Hello’? Her hesitant voice called out, and she cursed herself for sounding so scared. ‘Who’s this’? Mike asked, and he immediately sounded guarded. He probably didn’t expect a woman to answer the phone. ‘Hi, yes, sorry eum. Look I.. I need to talk to you. Please I know this is weird and you have no idea who I am but just please. I really need to talk you. It’s about Stanley’. Hearing her own voice say her father's name sounded wrong somehow, like she was disrespecting him. Nevertheless, she had no other option. She couldn’t just tell this man that she was Stan’s daughter. 

The pause on the other side was longer this time. She could hear the noise in the background fading away. Most likely everyone was now listening in to Mike’s conversation and she didn’t know how she felt about that. ‘Alright’, Mike announced hesitantly, ‘can you meet me at the Jade oriental’? Emily had no idea where that was, but she was sure she could somehow find it. Google maps really was her best friend here. She nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see her. ‘Yes that’s fine, I’ll be there soon’. She replied. The man hummed but before anything else could be said Emily ended the call. 

It took 5 minutes of her fumbling with her phone to get google maps working, and she let out a heavy sigh once it did. The restaurant was just around the corner from where she was standing. She didn’t  have to lose that many time on getting the stupid app to work. 

She didn’t know who she was looking for, once she entered the restaurant. The panic in her body spread even further as she looked around and so no one she recognized. The flares of hot, white anger shot through her again, but as she had been doing for the past 3 days, she pushed it down again. Towards the back of the restaurant a man stood up, he looked at her with a curious look, as if he was deciding if she was the girl he had been talking too. ‘Mike’? Emily called out attentively, because she hadn’t told him her name. The man nodded and took a step forward, still keeping enough distance so that he still had enough time to run away in case something went wrong. 

Emily took the guy in. He seemed like he was a nice man, the grandfather type, who would give you biscuits and tell stories about how things used to back in his days. He definitely wasn’t old enough to be a grandfather yet though, he seemed about her dad’s age. 

Behind him a group of five other people reached their necks out to take a look at them, watching like hawks as if they were waiting for her to try and hurt Mike. She recognized the comedian, Richie, and a weight fell of her shoulders knowing she could hand off the letters her father had wrote to at least two people. 

‘Where’s Stanley’? He asked uneasily, and the lump in Emily’s throat appeared again. ‘He, is.. my dad he’ Emily forced out, but she couldn’t continue as tears started to cloud her vision. Mike’s eyes widened and he took another step forward. ‘Stan is your father’? He asked in amazement, though once he took in Emily’s disheveled state the small smile he had on his face dropped. 

Emily nodded, and a loud sob she couldn’t contain left her mount. Instantly Mike reached out for her, and wrapped his arms around the younger girl. Emily didn’t understand why, but the moment Mike hugged her, she melted into him. She didn’t even know this guy that well, yet he made her feel safe in a way she couldn’t explain. It was only then that she realized how much she missed her father hugs. They always had a way of making Emily feel like everything would be okay again. Yet nothing would ever be okay again now. 

‘Something happened to him didn’t it?’ Mike asked. He sounded both scared and loving at the same time, and Emily was once again reminded of her analogy with a grandfather. 

She nodded and pulled back a bit. ‘He killed himself’. She bit her lip right after she said. It was the first time she had spoken those words out loud, and saying them, putting them out in the open, made it real. Mike didn’t reply for a long time. Startled Emily could feel tears dripping into her hair. Mike was crying. He pulled back, whipping his tears away and smiling sadly towards her. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other members of the losers club’. She didn’t know who the losers club was, but Mike seemed pretty confident that she would, so she didn’t ask. 

The other people around the table, most likely the losers club, were slouched down in their seats. They all looked sadly around, and one man had his arm wrapped around a woman. They must have heard Emily say Stan killed himself.

There was an empty chair, right next to a guy she didn’t recognize and Richie, and Mike led her over to. 

‘Guys, This is’, he stopped while look at Emily puzzled. 

‘Emily’, she supplied, once she realized that she hadn’t even told Mike her name. 

‘Emily’, Mike repeated, ‘She’s Stanley’s daughter’.  

Emily felt all eyes of the people sitting at the table on her, and it made her queasy. Her stomach rumbled once again, and she pressed her arm against it to stop the sound from being spread.   The man on her left offered his plate up to her, and he smiled at her hesitantly. ‘You should eat something’, he spoke up, and it was clear he wasn’t used to dealing with teenagers, because his voice sounded too childish for Emily’s looking, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she took the plate with a grateful smile and a small thank you. She wasn’t really that hungry, she was afraid that everything she would eat would come back up, but she felt it would be too rude to decline.  

She wanted to tell Mike and Richie about the letters in her bag, but she didn’t know who any of these people were, and she didn’t know if she could just hand the letters to them. For a few moments there was tense silence, nobody spoke and it seemed like everyone was looking at each other to start up a conversation. It was Richie that spoke again. 

‘Wow, so Stan married someone huh? Can’t believe he would actually have sex, always thought he was too prudish for it.’ The woman slapped Richie’s arm harshly, her eyes set in a hard glare. ‘Not now Rich’, she said, while Richie was rubbing his arm with a hiss. 

‘Right okay Bev sorry fuck me I guess’. This guy was crude, Emily realized, but he was funny. Perfect to become a comedian. 

‘No, it’s alright, don’t worry about it’. She supplied, after getting over her initial shock. Beverly was also the name on one of the postcards. Could all of them be the people her dad wrote his letters too?

‘I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but who are you guys? And how do you know my dad?’ Emily figured she was at least entitled to an explanation. 

Mike looked taken aback. ‘Right, Stan didn’t remember either’, he mumbled while looking down. 

‘Remember what’? she asked, but she was interrupted by the woman. ‘My name’s Beverly’, she said with a small but sad smile, ‘but you can call me Bev’. 

‘I’m Bill’ the man next to her said, right before taking a sip of his beer. 

‘I’m Ben’, and the man by far seemed to be the kindest of the group, not that any of them seemed particularly unfriendly. 

‘I’m Eddie’, the man who had offered up his plate of food spoke up. 

‘And I’m Rich..’ Before Richie could finish Emily spoke up. ‘Richie, yeah I know, my parents and I watched your show once’. She purposefully let out the part where Stan had ran out to throw up, and she concluded that that had been a good idea when Richie’s face turned a pale white from just this piece of information alone. 

‘Really?’ He asked, but it sounded choked up, like he had to physically push the words out of his mount. Emil nodded; ‘Yeah, he said the jokes were good’. Richie turned away from her then, but she could swear she saw tears in his eyes. 

‘Why, w-w-hy did he do it’? Bill, she pretty sure his name was, was gripping his glass so tight his knuckles were turning white. Emily shrugged, ‘he didn’t write me a letter.’ And when she found out he didn’t, she nearly ripped the letters that he had written. She didn’t though and now she was here, and she just wanted to hand them over, maybe subconsciously, she wanted more than anything to know what was on them, and she might find out if she gave them the letters now. 

‘He did write you guys, though’. She said while reaching for her bag. The letters looked a bit wrinkled from traveling with her for so long, and Emily cringed at that. Her dad would hate that, he would start all over with new letters who didn’t have wrinkles in them. 

She handed them out one by one. First Eddie, then Richie, then Bill, then Ben, then Mike and finally Beverly aswell. She looked as everyone one of them looked at letters for a couple a seconds, doing nothing, just staring. Richie was the first one to respond. He tore the letter open, but then paused again as everyone’s eyes had shifted towards. He then put the letter down and stared down towards his hands. 

‘I’ll read it after I get to the hotel room tonight’. 

Beverly was looking at Emily with concern in her eyes, and walked over towards her. ‘Are you alright’, she whispered, like she was talking to a wounded animal. Suddenly it felt like the self-control, the short line that had stopped Emily from acting on her anger had snapped. She wasn’t a wounded animal, clearly her father didn’t care as much about her as he cared about these people he had never even mentioned to her. Emily jumped up, causing Eddie on her left to flinch, and normally she would feel guilty for that, but now she just felt anger in her veins. It was all consuming and not once did Emily stop to think rationally like she usually would. 

‘No, I’m not fucking okay. My dad killed himself only 2 days ago, yet here I am. Delivering some stupid letters to people I have never once in my life heard about.’ ‘Emily’, Mikes voice reached her ears, but she didn’t pause for a second, instead opting to keep seething. It seemed that once she began, it was hard to stop the venomous words from coming out. 

‘I mean, he didn’t even write me a letter, and I’m his daughter. Did he not think I had a right to know?’ Emily was heaving by the time the words were out of her mouth. Everyone was staring at her, with gaping mouths. 

Emily plopped down onto her chair once again. Tears were streaming down her face, and it was like all the strength had left her. ‘I hate him’, she murmured, she couldn’t look anyone in the eyes. Beverly crouched down in front of her, placing her hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. 

‘IT’, a voice called out suddenly. Emily’s head whipped up, and she made eye contact with Bill, who was looking at her intently. ‘What’s IT’? Emily questioned. The others head whipped around to watch Bill with wide eyes.

‘Don’t tell her dude, not after everything that happened’.  

‘She deserves to know’, Bill reasoned, gesturing his arms widely. ‘Tell me what? What is IT?’ Emily was getting impatient, she had no idea what they were talking about. 

‘IT is the reason your dad killed himself. It’s a thing, I don’t know how to explain it. IT changes into our worst fears, we fought it once as kids, and now we have to do it again.’ Bill explained, his hands were trembling and it looked like he was trying hard not to cry. 

Emily stared at him and blinked, once, twice before letting out an angry huff. ‘You think this is funny? I spend so long coming here, to get you your stupid letter and then you come up with this stupid story?’ Beverly started shaking her head. ‘He’s right, it’s hard to explain just please hear us out.’ 

Before Beverly can get another word out, the table begins to shake. In the middle of the table there were now fortune cookies. Emily hadn’t paid enough attention to notice them being placed there, but that wasn’t what she took notice off. The fact that the fortune cookies are jumping up from the plate they are placed on, is what does. 

Her eyes widen and in an instant Beverly has pushed her back out of the chair, and backwards toward the exit. Everyone else also jumps up, and Eddie comes running over toward the two of them. 

One of the fortune cookies cracks open, a shrieking baby thing appears out of it. A scream leaves Emily lips before she has the mind to force it back. The thing comes flying towards Emily, Beverly and Eddie.

 All three of them start waving their hands widely around them, trying to get away from whatever the hell that thing is. It seems to attack Emily specifically and she is absolutely petrified. She can hear the others screaming out aswell, vaguely hearing Richie saying something along the lines of; ‘this fortune cookie is looking at me’, but she doesn’t have any time to properly listen to it. 

She runs away, still trying to whack the thing away from her, but it is persistent. She takes a step back, not realizing that there was a chair standing behind her. She falls backwards harshly, banging her head against the floor. She hears Mike call out to her, but as she tries to lift her head, the only thing she sees is a bright white light. ’Don’t look at it’, she hears someone scream. She’s already looking though, and she tries to stay awake, but before long, her head falls backwards again, and she passes out.

[portalford]

And I Need Somewhere to Begin

AO3

The kids left this morning, and Stan’s not sure what to do with himself.

The house feels so quiet without those little gremlins running around.  He knows that’s been the default state of his (Ford’s) house for most of the time it’s been standing, but that’s apparently changed.

A lot has changed, these past few months.

Stan is still looking at the picture he keeps on his bedside table (Mabel grinning, mouth full of braces, her arm flung around a startled but smiling Dipper) when there’s a knock at his door.

Stan frowns, setting the picture carefully back on the table.  “Soos, I thought I told you to go home.”

The door cracks open and a head that is decidedly not Soos’s pokes in.  “Stanley?”

Some of the vague unhappiness he’s felt since he left the bus stop eases.  

A lot has changed in these past few months, but it’s not all bad.  There’ve been some good changes, too.  

His brother is one of them.

“Don’t stand out in the cold, Sixer.”

Ford opens the door fully and steps in, closing it quietly behind him.  “Your room is the same temperature as the rest of the house, Stanley.”

“Yeah, yeah.  C’mon, sit down.”

Ford does, smoothing his coat out over his legs.  He turns to Stan and looks him over.  “How are you feeling?”

Stan almost waves him off with a stock “Never better,” but he stops himself.  They’d promised to try and be more open with each other, to not repeat their mistakes.  He settles for, “Eh.  Not used to the quiet, I guess.”

Ford’s expression says he understands.  He would — he’s had a lot less time with the kids than Stan has, but it didn’t take a week before they had him wrapped around their little fingers.

It took them less than five minutes to get Stan, but Ford doesn’t need to know that.

“It is pretty quiet here, with everyone gone.  I could… blow something up in the basement, if it would help.”

Stan isn’t sure how much of that is teasing.  Ford’s never been very good at it.  He smiles anyway.  “I’ll keep the quiet, thanks.”  He waits a moment, but Ford doesn’t say anything.  He came up here for a reason — Stan can see it in the way his brother picks at his fingers and glances Stan’s way when he thinks Stan won’t notice.  Some of his memories are a little shaky, but Stan’s pretty sure he could read Ford before he could read English.  “So I’m glad you’re not downstairs setting anything on fire, but what brings you up here?”

Ford’s hands go still for just a moment before they resume their twisting.  “…I was thinking.”

“Well that’s a new one.”  Ford scowls.  Stan grins.  “What were you thinking about?”

“Do you rem—”  Ford visibly backtracks.  “The other day, when we went to seal the last of the rifts.”

“You mean when we had to get Mabel back from the multiverse?”

“Yes.  I was thinking about… what she told us.”

Mabel tells them a lot of things.  “That if we see a version of her who hates rainbows we should throw her out?”

“What?  No.  Though if you happen to meet a version of me who’s oddly obsessed with Internet games—”

“So we’re definitely coming back to that one later,”  Stan interrupts, “because I wanna hear every single detail, but right now I just want to hear what was so important you left your nerd work and came up here instead of just shouting at me from downstairs.”

“Yes, well.”  Ford is silent for a long minute.  Sometimes he forgets to use actual words instead of just thinking about what he wants to say.  Stan wonders if there’s some kind of magic rock you can use to read minds, because it would make talking to Ford a lot easier.  For now, though, he’s got years of practice and the willingness to try.  He nudges Ford with his elbow.  

“Earth to Ford.”

“What?  Oh.”  Ford’s quiet again, but Stan can tell he’s just gathering his thoughts, not getting lost in them.  “I was thinking about what Mabel said when we found her.  How we should start taking care of each other.”  Ford shifts uncomfortably.  “I thought you might have come up here to brood over the children leaving, so.  I wanted to see.”

Translation:  Ford came up here to check on him and make sure he was okay.  Stan feels something in his throat that feels suspiciously like a tear lump, and he is definitely not going to cry because that’ll upset Ford.

Of course, staring silently at his brother after such a confession isn’t exactly making Ford comfortable either.

“You seem okay,”  he says quickly, bouncing to his feet.  “I won’t disturb— whatever you’re doing.”

“Whoa, Ford!  Just give me a minute, yeah?  Sit down.”

Ford eyes him suspiciously, but drops back onto the bed.

Stan clears his throat roughly.  “You—you’re not disturbing me.  Truth be told, heh, I was kinda thinking about the kids.  Not brooding,” he clarifies, “just thinking.  But it’s nice that you’re here now.”

Ford smiles, but it looks a little stiff and he won’t make eye contact.  “I’ve been thinking as well, but more about my conduct these past few weeks.  Well, years really.  A lot of them.”  Ford sits up straight and tucks his hands in his lap.  “Stanley, I’ve been a terrible brother, and—”

“Yeah, no.”  Ford’s tried this speech a couple times, and Stan’s shut him down just as many.  “Ford, I already told you—"

“That doesn’t mean—”

“You spent half your life in sci-fi land getting chased by a demon, Stanford!”  Stan’s still not entirely sure what Bill did to Ford over those thirty-plus years, but he’s seen and heard things from Ford that tell more of the story than Ford probably knows or wants.  “You’ve spent your whole life trying to fix one stupid mistake.”  I know what that’s like, he doesn’t say.

“Good intentions don’t matter if you don’t suit actions to them as well,”  Ford mutters.

“Don’t people say, ‘it’s the thought that counts’?  Let’s go with that instead.”

Ford’s still frowning and picking at his fingers.  Stan puts his hand on Ford’s shoulder, making sure he’s got his attention.  “You and me?  We’re good, Ford.  We’re gonna look after each other, like Mabel said.”  He leans back, smiling at the picture on the table.  “She’s gonna come after us if we don’t.”

Ford hesitantly smiles back.  “I know.  Just…” He trails off, looking frustrated.

Stan remembers this, too.  Ford can talk for days about anomalies and science and everything and nothing, but ask him to explain what he’s feeling and it’ll take him half an hour of false starts and unrelated ramblings before he reaches the point.

“There’s just so much I wish I’d done differently,” Ford says wistfully.  It makes Stan’s heart twist.  “I wanted to make something of myself.  To prove that I was more than—you know.  But all I did was.  Well.”

And none of that was a real complete thought, but Stan gets it anyway.

“I spent ten years trying to make a fortune because I thought it was the only way to get my family back.”  Stan bumps Ford with his elbow.  “Total waste of time, huh?  All I had to do was learn theoretical physics.”

Ford smiles, clearly in spite of himself.  “I still haven’t thanked you for that.”

Ford’s thanked him for that about eight times since Stan got his memories back, actually, but it always feels nice to hear it.  

“Yeah, well, we were busy savin’ the world.”

“You saved the world, Stanley.  You saved me.”

Ford’s said that a couple times, and it's one of those things that gets Stan thinking about what Bill might have done to Ford over the past thirty years — the way Ford looks at him when he says it, like Stan did something scientifically impossible.

Like Ford never expected to be saved.

It always makes Stan uneasy, but he pushes past it for now.  “That triangle doesn’t get to mess with my family.  That’s my job.”

Ford’s looking at his hands again.  “I still… regret, that you had to take the fall for my mistakes.”

The apologizing was kinda nice at first, to be honest (or something close to it), but now it’s just.  Tiring.  

Stan’s done with apologies.  Or at least this particular apology.  They both probably owe each other a few contrite words for a few different events, but they’ve got to get there first.

“Fall nothin’.  I’m still right here.”  Ford opens his mouth to argue, but Stan’s ready for that.  Yeah, his memories are shaky in some places, but he remembers how exhausting it was to disagree with Ford when Ford’s not in a mood to be disagreed with.  Which, to be fair, is most of the time, but that just means Stan’s gotten really good at dodging this particular bullet.  “How about we go downstairs and see what’s on?  You’ve got thirty years of crappy daytime TV to catch up with.”

Redirection and compromise.  Ford’s expression says that he knows what Stan is doing, that he knows Stan knows he knows what Stan’s doing, and that they both know Ford simply isn’t going to call him out on it.

“I don’t see why not,”  he says instead.  He smooths his fingers over his coat again, but doesn’t pick at it.  “What was that show you and the kids were talking about?  Duck detective?”

Maybe one of these days Stan will stop getting the warm fuzzies over Ford paying attention to stuff he says.  Part of him sort of hopes it'll happen soon, because his tough and unaffected image is in serious danger otherwise.

The rest of him— most of him— hopes that day never comes at all.

“Ducktective, Poindexter.”  Stan claps his hands together and stands up, wincing as his knee cracks.  “It’s got some good mystery stuff — you’re gonna love it.”  He hesitates just a moment, then offers Ford a hand.

Ford smiles, small and lopsided, but real.

“I think I might,”  he says, and pulls himself up.

[jazziehart]

Character Dissection [Rachel Berry]: Episode by Episode - Season 1A

Welcome to my very first character dissection of one of the characters I dislike the most, Rachel Berry. If you are a Rachel fan I think many of you won’t like this dissection so I advise you to proceed with caution. Rachel has some good qualities about her but a lot of my focus is on the bad. I will be doing dissections of her from Seasons 1 to 3 since after that I really didn’t watch the show as prudently. 

Today we’re focusing on Season 1A Rachel going from Pilot to Sectionals. I have to say of the three seasons this version of Rachel actually bothered me the least and had rootable qualities. While she was somewhat unbearable at times she still had the underdog spirit and was someone you could root for whereas in the later seasons she became so much more entitled and was never put in her place.

Let’s start off with the Pilot episode. Rachel is introduced as an ambitious girl who is willing to do anything to get what she wants which comes with a price. While her motives for getting Sandy fired are because he didn’t give her a solo, she actually does the glee club and the school a major favor. He was preying on some of the young guys, something she had accused him of and would later go on to be proven in a throw away line from Puck. Rachel is shown to be a perfectionist, and when the club is at its worst she worries that it will hinder her reputation as a performer which is the only thing she has left at this point. Once Will finds Finn, it all changes for Rachel. Rachel has always had a crush on Finn and the fact that he’s a strong male lead appeals to her making her like him more than ever before. She’s more determined than ever to make the Glee Club great and even after Will leaves, she takes over the club wanting so badly to capture the magic she knows it has in it. Finn has left the glee club and she goes to convince him to come back even though Finn is resistant thinking his reputation is on the line to which Rachel simply tells him that he’s better than all of them. Finn soon realizes Rachel is right and returns to Glee Club which Rachel is the first one to be welcoming to. She, Finn, and the rest of the New Directions prepare ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ which Will hears and is drawn back to the club for good.  

Now moving onto Showmance. This episode the Glee Club comes together as one but is at a hinderance when Will won’t listen to the fact that Disco is out and would make the New Directions even more of outcasts. Rachel also finds herself wanting to be more like Quinn to try to get Finn’s attention which leads her to try making herself throw up which doesn’t work out. Emma catches her and advises her to try to bond more with him and find common interests which Rachel takes seriously. This leads Rachel to joining the celibacy club to get close to Finn, much to Quinn’s dismay. Rachel soon makes a speech about how celibacy isn’t practical which futher infuriates Quinn but intrigues the boys who have been trying to get the girls to give in. This leads Rachel to a new idea of how to get the school on their side at the pep assembly, to sell sex. She and the New Directions go behind Will’s back and prepare ‘Push It’ which excites most of the students besides Quinn who is now even more infurtated espeically with seeing Rachel all over her boyfriend during the number. Their actions aren’t without reprocussions as they get a new songlist making Will upset with Rachel for possibly hurting the Glee Club thinking they won’t get any new members. However, this theory is proven wrong when the Unholy Trinity join, mostly due to Quinn wanting to keep Rachel away from Finn. Meanwhile, Rachel and Finn are having a lunch together which leads to Finn falling more for Rachel, even kissing her. He soon gets turned on and has to run away, leading Rachel to believe she did something wrong. Rachel is infurated as well with the Glee Club’s newest editions as well as the fact that her solo in ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’ was now given to Quinn, which leads her to wanting to leave the club for good.

Moving onto probably my least favorite episode, Acafellas. There actually isn’t too much that I can say about this episode. Funny enough this is probably one of my favorite episodes of Rachel. She doesn’t let her selfish ways affect her and she stands up for the club against Dakota Stanley whom they hired to help with the choreography. She’s the glue that gets the club back together even though Will is off pursuing his boyband dreams but welcomes him back with open arms when he returns, despite feeling like he ruined things for her. This is the Rachel that I actually enjoy when she isn’t all about herself and realizes things are so much bigger than just her. It’s episodes like these that remind me why Rachel was such an essential character in the beginning of Glee.

Up next is Preggers which is probably one of the best episodes in Season 1. Rachel sadly goes back to her old selfish ways and throws a hissy fit when Tina gets the lead solo in ‘Tonight’ from West Side Story. She insists that song was made for her (though to be honest I preferred Jenna’s version in Season 1 to Lea and Darren’s in Season 3 but I digress). Sue and Sandy decide to host the school’s musical to try to lure Rachel away and it works. Rachel quits the Glee Club once she gets the lead in Caberet, a very Rachel thing to do.  Will talks to Rachel and tries to get her back. Which temporarily works that is until he continues to keep ‘Tonight’ as a solo for Tina. This enrages Rachel and she quits the club for good.

Following Preggers was The Rhodes Not Taken. Rachel is working hard in Caberet though, it’s not everything she thought it would be. Finn, however tries to take it upon himself to get Rachel back into the club by flirting with her and leading her on. Rachel is lead to believe by Finn that his relationship with Quinn is questionable and that there’s a chance for them. Rachel then agrees to come back to the club but soon finds out about Quinn’s pregnancy. She slaps Finn calling him a liar and that she wouldn’t come back to the club again. Her mind changes when she watches the New Directions onstage, wishing she could be with them. When April leaves the club, Rachel comes backstage and offers to return stating that being a star meant nothing without her friends. Most of the New Directions are accepting to her rejoining, all but Quinn who still doesn’t trust her relationship with Finn. Rachel does rejoin helping the New Directions with their closing number of ‘Somebody to Love’, cementing the group together for good.

Now moving onto Vitamin D, probably one of the more kooky episodes of early Glee. This episode was the boys vs. girls mashup episode. Rachel is seen being annoyed by the girl’s lack of drive thinking they could easily crush the boys. Rachel looks for Quinn, wanting the group to be whole but most of the other girls don’t seem to care. Rachel confronts Quinn about not being a part of the club. Which Quinn simply states she’s not superwoman and can’t do everything. Rachel tells her no one will judge her about the pregnancy and tries to convince her to come back to the club. Quinn considers what Rachel has to say and does eventually come around. In the meantime, the boys perform and are incredible. Rachel scolds the girls including Quinn who has now rejoined telling them that they should’ve worked harder. Kurt, however reveals the real reason the guys did so well, they took Vitamin D. Rachel confronts Finn about this calling him a cheater. Rachel and the girls soon decide to level the playing field and also take Vitamin D to enhance their performance, all but Quinn who takes folic acid since she’s pregnant. The girls also put on an energetic and fantastic performance. Will seems torn about who should win, that is until it’s discovered about the club taking Vitamin D which leads to Figgins enlisting the help of Sue to be Will’s co-director, making everything more complicated.

Now onto Throwdown, another incredible episode. In this episode the club is divided by Sue who wants them against each other. Will ends up with Rachel, Finn, Quinn, Puck, and Brittany whereas Sue focuses on the minorities in the Glee Club. Rachel is shown not to be thrilled over the divide. The club seems to truly miss each other. Once again Rachel gets the lead in a duet with Finn which angers Quinn, especially since the 5 of them are supposed to be a group. Brittany and Puck soon join Sue’s group which ignites the feud between Will and Sue. The feud comes to a head when Rachel, Finn, and Quinn are performing which leads the New Directions to storm off. Rachel of course takes this opportunity to be her annoying self and show everyone how a proper storm off happens. Will soon talks to the club pointing out different things about them when it’s revealed that Sue now knows about Quinn’s pregnancy. Rachel and Finn take the leads in a song letting Quinn know the club is there for her.

I just want to talk about a scene in the episode that is once again misconstruded. Rachel tries to keep the story of Quinn’s pregnancy quiet and many view this as Rachel trying to protect Quinn. The truth is Rachel was trying to protect Finn from backlash, not Quinn. Quinn had every right to be mad at her and supsect her of trying to get Finn to herself because as the season goes on there are so many occasions where Rachel tries to take Finn from Quinn. I think the Finn/Quinn/Rachel love triangle is something I definitely should discuss and why I’m on Quinn’s side of it and why I believe both Finn and Rachel did her wrong.

Now onto Mash Up. This episode features Puck and Rachel as a couple which kind of came out of nowhere but would prove to actually be a pretty good ship (I know this is unpopular of me to say but I definitely want to discuss why I thought they were actually a really good ship so maybe my next topic haha). They start off with Rachel praticing with Puck which soon leads to a makeout session, Puck wants to go further but Rachel convinces him that she can’t give herself to someone who doesn’t have the guts to perform a solo. This leads Puck to perform his first solo which seems to really impress Rachel. The two continue to be together which takes a toll on Puck’s popularity leading him to get slushied. Rachel cleans him off and realizes that he most likely will leave Glee Club (due to Coach Tanaka’s ultimatum Glee Club or Football) and unselfishly gives him her blessing. That Thursday was the big day to see if any of the football players would return. The Glee Club waits together nervously but are soon joined by Mike and Matt, also were surprisingly joined by Puck. Rachel approaches him stunned by his decision and asks him if he’s sure that he might get slushied everyday to which Puck replies Bring It. Shockingly Finn is the only guy who didn’t choose glee which was mostly due to his reputation being on the line and Quinn convinced him not to. Rachel soon finds Puck watching practice from the bleachers which is when she approaches him asking if he misses it to which Puck says he doesn’t. Rachel soon breaks up with him saying that their relationship wouldn’t work out. Puck says quickly that he was going to break up with her anyway to which Rachel replies that he wasn’t. He soon realizes she’s in love with Finn and tells her that Finn will never break up with Quinn because of the pregnancy. While he’s talking Rachel realizes he’s in love with Quinn. Rachel asks Puck if he likes her saying she’s seen the way he looks at her and asks if it’s why he joined Glee to which Puck replies that it doesn’t matter because they’re never breaking up. Rachel admits at first she only date him to try to make Finn jealous and says she hope they could still be friends which Puck doesn’t agree to. Finn rejoins Glee Club after a talk with Coach Tanaka and the club is once again hole feeling stronger than before but with some hurt feelings along the way.

Moving onto Wheels where Rachel’s biggest storyline is her fighting with Kurt over the lead in Defying Gravity. Will originally gives the song to Rachel which she’s thrilled about saying it’s her ringtone. However, after backlash from Burt complaining to Will and Principal Figgins, a diva off is set with them both performing the song. Rachel worries with the New Directions deciding the vote that she won’t get the solo, claiming that it would be a popularity contest to which Kurt makes the New Directions swear to vote for who performed the best. The other biggest storyline is the New Directions being in wheelchairs, hence the title of the episode. Rachel is one of the few New Directions who stands up for Artie somewhat about the bus but stands behind the others when they don’t want to have a bake sale claiming her family is committed to takeout. Later in the episode Finn is helping Rachel with her wheelchair when Quinn storms in about the final notice about the sonogram to which Finn thinks he’s screwed. But Rachel gets an idea to help get him hired using the wheelchair. She takes Finn to a resteraunt demanding them to hire him and says if they don’t it could be seen as discrimination. Once again, Rachel is seen to be selfless, especially since him getting the job only helps his and Quinn’s relationship but Rachel cares too much for Finn to see him suffer. Kurt and Rachel have their diva off which Rachel wins, making her happy and all is well one again.

Now onto Ballad which was probably one of the weirdesr episodes for Rachel. This is the episode focused on her crush on Will after they perform ‘Endless Love’. One story I actually read explained this incredibly well saying Rachel gets so wrapped up in the songs that she starts to think the passion in the music translates to her falling for someone which actually seems like the perfect explaination for why she fell for Will so fast in the episode. Towards the end of the episode she apologizes to him for her irrational behavior and helps the club out when they decide a ballad to Finn and Quinn who needed it, especially after Quinn got kicked out.

Moving on to Hairography which revolves around Will getting intimitaded after seeing the Jane Addams Girls perform. Rachel quickly tells him that what they’re doing is Hairography, using their hair and dancing to mask their lack of talent and for him not to be intimidated. Sadly, this doesn’t translate to Will who decides to go forward with a hairography lesson. Rachel is the only member who isn’t thrilled with the idea or number thinking it wasn’t truly showcasing their talents properly. Meanwhile, Quinn plots to distract Finn with Rachel so she can test out Puck, so she enlists Kurt in giving Rachel a makeover. Rachel seems to embrace the makeover, especially since it catches Finn’s attention and the two agree to meet at Rachel’s that Friday. On that Friday Rachel makes herself up like Sandy at the end of Grease and tries to get Finn’s attention throughout the song which he soon stops saying he preffered the old her better and didn’t like this makeover. He soon reveals that Kurt gave her bad advice by saying his type was girls who were more natural. Rachel confronts Kurt the next day clearly hurt but Rachel soon realizes that Kurt also has a crush on Finn. When Finn and Quinn make up the two comissorate together understanding how hurt each other is. The hairography number is a bust as Rachel had predicted but once they perform with the deaf choir they realize that simplicity is what they needed after all. Will then gives them the sheet music to ‘True Colors’ saying they should use their voices which Rachel nods approvingly, glad Will has realized what she already knew.

Next up is probably one of the most fun episodes, Mattress. The annual school yearbook photos are coming up and Figgins has cut the Glee Club photo which Rachel is outraged about. Even though she’s a part of many clubs, Glee Club is the most special to her. Figgins soon agrees to a small corner page and Will accepts it. Will tells the club to elect two captains to pose for the yearbook. Everyone votes for Rachel, including Rachel. Will is disappointed and appoints Rachel to find a co-captain which Rachel takes seriously. She tries everyone but soon gets Finn to agree to do the yearbook with her. However when the time comes Finn fails to show up for the yearbook photo and Rachel is alone. While talking to the photographer she ends up booking the Glee Club a commerical to sell mattresses and they perform ‘Jump’ in a commercial which is somewhat of a success but once Sue sees it, she tries to get them disqualified from the competition due to the fact that their amature status could now be considered revoked. However, Will says that he accepted the mattress, not the club and allows them to take the group photo which was given to them by Sue after Quinn demanded it, confronting Sue about the cheerios perks that could have her disqualified from competition. The club once again comes together and is ready to take on Sectionals, fearful of being without Will.

Finally for the midseason finale we have Sectionals. In the beginning of the episode Rachel notices a difference between Puck and Quinn, thinking there’s a possiblity he’s the father of her baby. She soon confronts Quinn making up a fake story about a Jewish disorder and watches as Quinn tries to get Puck to take her to the doctor for it which confirms Rachel’s suspicion. After Miss Pillsbury is appointed their new director, Mercedes sings a solo the leaves the club speechless and Rachel agrees that she should have the solo after protesting it at first. Rachel talks to Finn after practice and soon tells him the truth about what she thinks is true. This leads to Finn beating up Puck and Quinn finally revealing the truth that Puck was the father. Finn then quits the club which shocks Rachel, realizing her plan went ary. Rachel goes to talk to Quinn to apologize, admitting that she did it only to get Finn to be with her which once again shows her selfish side and proves she wasn’t looking to help Quinn in the least. When the New Directions arrive at Sectionals they’re actually pumped but their mood soon flattens once they realize their setlist has been stolen. Rachel calls a meeting in the green room as the New Directions try to come up with a new set list. Rachel unselfishly tries to let Mercedes have the solo still but Mercedes says she has nothing as good as And I Am Telling You and admits Rachel is one of the only ones who could belt a solo on the fly. Rachel takes it graciously and knows the perfect song to perform, ‘Don’t Rain on My Parade’ which goes on to be her signature song. Finn soon returns much to the shock of everyone and Rachel is incredibly happy to see him. He brings the sheet music for their final song as a group. The New Directions then perform their 3 songs and hope for the best, which turns out to be the case. After winning sectionals, Sue is fired due to her leaking the setlist and Will is reinstated as director. The New Directions sing a song to welcome him back as they prepare for their next challenge, Regionals.

Now let’s talk overall as far as Rachel, she has her moments of being unselfish and helping others but most of the things she does is to try to benefit herself in someway. She’s had a few instances of being unselfish but the majority of the time she looks out for herself first before anyone else. As far as her relationship with Finn this is season is definitely my favorite of their relationship. It’s much less manipulative on Rachel’s side at least and is the purest form of them liking each other. Finn is one of the few people Rachel truly looks out for, probably because he was one of the very few people who’s always treated her kindly and due to the fact that she has a crush on him. Now as far as Quinn and Rachel, I think everyone knows I don’t ship them anymore but Rachel did help Quinn in some cases but there was always a catch that benefitted Rachel which is something shippers don’t seem to get. I hope you enjoyed this long dissection of Season 1. The second half of Season 1 will be posted soon.