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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years ago

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Worth It

Pairings: Dousy, background Pepperony, FitzSimmons, Philinda, Mackelana, and Huntingbird

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of gun use, mentions of ptsd, light swearing

a/n: Here’s my soulmate au for day 6 of @aosficnet2 ‘s AoS AU August! It’s got Modern Man!Daniel Sousa based on Enver’s appearance as a police officer in The Avengers.

___

Daisy “Quake” Johnson - Inhuman, hacker, Agent of SHIELD, and now she could add “Avenger” to her list of descriptors. The agent hadn’t been entirely surprised when she’d received an impromptu meeting with Director Nick Fury about her powers. At the time he had told her he was putting together a team, a group of people with super-human abilities that would work together to defend the world if the threat arose. She had signed on, she was already a SHIELD agent and she’d had plenty of training with her ability from her mom growing up at Afterlife, but she never met the team. Well, until about 24 hours ago. They were a bit of a nightmare (a complete shitshow if she was being blunt), none of them had worked together before so it was no surprise that they were butting heads. Daisy got along just fine with Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow as the two of them had crossed paths from time to time within SHIELD, but she couldn’t say the same for scientist Bruce Banner (the Hulk), billionaire Tony Stark (Iron Man), or the first-ever superhero Steve Rogers (Captain America). Of course, now they were also dealing with a Norse god of thunder who was supposedly good and his brother who was apparently bad. Thor, Stark, and Rogers: three massive egos in one aircraft.

Judging by the footage they were streaming from the museum Loki was more than just bad. Daisy had always been wary of powers, her mom had taught her that. Power was extremely dangerous when put in the wrong hands, that’s why Afterlife was so selective in choosing who got to go through terrigenesis. Loki was clearly the wrong hands and even though she really hated the men she was surrounded with, if they were the world’s only hope then she’d put up with them.

“So you expect me to believe there is life on other planets?”

Daisy sighed, trying not to get too frustrated. The man had been in the ice for seventy years, he missed a lot and probably had no reason to expect that “aliens” existed. Of course, she had known the truth since she was a child: not only was it highly probable that life existed elsewhere in the galaxy, but she was part-alien herself. Of course, no one else knew that. Inhumans were a secret from the rest of the world and it would need to stay that way.

“Oh, I’m sorry Seismic Activity, did you know that already?” Stark asked sarcastically, raising a brow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s Quake, actually, and yeah, I knew that, statistically, it was highly probable that alien life exists,” she bit back, glaring at the man, “Just about everyone in this century knows that.”

“Agent Johnson if you have some sort of issue with when I was born then you should just come out and say it,” Cap said, a frown on his face as he sat up in his chair.

“Look, I couldn’t give two shits whether you were born yesterday or a thousand years ago, I just don’t think we really have time to be debating extraterrestrial life right now,” Daisy said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again as she gestured to the holoscreen displaying Loki’s cell.

“She’s right, gear up.” Director Fury said. Daisy wasn’t sure when he had entered but she was glad he was taking her side. “We’re under attack.”

Daisy nodded, rushing out of the room to find her gauntlets and her weapons. It wasn’t a great idea to quake on a giant helicarrier so she’d probably be fighting old school.

“Woah, what the hell is that Johnson?” Natasha Romanoff was sneakier than Fury and Daisy hadn’t even known she was in the room until her wrist was tightly in the woman’s grasp.

She sighed, tugging her arm out of the redhead’s grip and slipping on her gauntlet to cover the writing. The marks weren’t uncommon, most of the world had them. They developed at age 16 and were usually the first words your soulmate said to you. However, not everyone got one or soulmates died and SHIELD specialized in utilizing the soulmark-less. That’s not to say there weren’t agents with soul marks in the organization, for ordinary agents SHIELD held a mostly don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Typically the only way to get into high-risk assignments like the Avengers was to prove the lack of a soulmate, but of course, the Avengers were less than typical.

“They make exceptions for people with powers.” She brushed it off, slipping on her other gauntlet.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re connected to someone,” Natasha argued and Daisy huffed, turning away.

“Stark’s got a mark, and he’s actually met his soulmate. If something happens to me mine’ll never know what they missed.”

Daisy quickly slid her various knives and guns into place in their holsters before leaving, effectively putting an end to one of the worst conversations she’d had in a while. She didn’t need the Black Widow to guilt-trip her, she had herself for that. She’d heard the stories about the pain people felt when their soulmate died and it often kept her up at night, but right now she had a job to do and she’d be damned if she sacrificed the world for one person she hadn’t even met.

Of course, her dedication to the cause hadn’t mattered much, she still wound up on the floor of the helicarrier with Phil Coulson bleeding out. She didn’t know the man super well, but he was usually the agent present whenever an 0-8-4 was discovered and since Daisy was something of an 0-8-4 herself, they crossed paths pretty frequently. She knew he was an upstanding and kind man, she knew he was a good agent, and she knew he didn’t deserve to die like this.

It wasn’t long until Fury came and swept him away and Hill ushered her back into the briefing room where some of the others were gathered. They all looked worse for wear and apparently they were about ready to give up. The Hulk was gone, Loki had jettisoned Thor from the airship, and he has the tesseract and would likely be taking over earth shortly. Daisy couldn’t believe it.

“I just watched several good agents die, and you want to throw in the towel? Do you have any respect for yourselves?” She questioned, glaring at Rogers and Stark.

She stormed out when she was met with silence, passing Fury in the hallway. She wanted desperately to change out of her skintight Quake suit and get cleaned up, but she wasn’t ready to give up the fight yet, opting instead to unzip the top half, tying the sleeves around her waist. She wandered around the ship like that, her sports bra the only thing covering her torso, before finding herself on the top deck, leaning over a railing.

“Have you met them yet?”

Daisy turned to see Rogers gesturing to her wrist where the words “Who the hell are you?” were written in a neat script.

“Nah,” she shook her head, barely concealing her disappointment with a smile.

“You’ll find them eventually, or they’ll find you.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks for not berating me for risking my life while my soulmate is out there somewhere.”

“Hey, I hid my makr to join a highly experimental drug trial and enlist in World War Two so I don’t have much room for judgment.” He joked and Daisy laughed, feeling a little better.

___

Daniel Sousa had been sure this would be another day at the station as he slipped his uniform over his shoulders, covering the soulmark on the back of his shoulder. Soulmarks appeared when a person turned 16, appearing at the place where their soulmate would first come in contact with them. The combination of the location of his mark and the words (“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go”) had always been a mystery to him though he hoped he would solve it soon.

He took the subway to the station, just like he did every morning. Daniel was a police officer for the 99th precinct in NYC which was about a fifteen-minute subway ride away from his apartment. Despite its obvious flaws (thanks MTA), he liked taking the subway - it was more environmentally friendly than driving himself, it was much faster than trying to make it through New York traffic or walk (though sometimes he did walk when it was nice and his leg wasn’t bugging him as much), and the crowds increased the probability that he’d come across his soulmate.

She wasn’t on the subway today again and so Daniel resigned himself to daydreams of how they might meet. He hoped it would be romantic, that she’d bump into him accidentally (it was the best way he could explain the back of his shoulder), maybe he’d catch her as she tripped over him and they’d lock eyes and she’d take his breath away. He pushed away the fears that she would be freaked out by his prosthetic or the fact that her words on his shoulder didn’t fit that scenario at all. He wanted their meeting to be perfect for her.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by his partner, Jack Thompson, telling him they had to go check out a call downtown. There weren’t any detectives involved so it likely wasn’t anything serious- probably a noise complaint or something equally mundane.

Daniel had been right, the call was a typical noise complaint, easily solved and probably ignored as soon as they left the building (Jack bet they’d be back in 24 hours, Daniel gave it 32). However, he never could’ve guessed that when they went to climb back into the squad car a portal would open up in the sky and a bunch of space creatures would attack earth. Thompson grabbed the radio to inform the station of the situation. It took a few minutes of convincing (he didn’t blame them, he only believed it because he was seeing it) and a few more to figure out what to do (there really isn’t an official protocol for Hostile Alien Invasion) before they were told to stay put and that backup was on the way.

Daniel reached for his gun, steeling himself for the fight he was sure he was about to be involved in. An alien invasion would be a really bad time for his crippling ptsd. Still, he was sure his hand would shake if he had to actually lift his gun, his finger would hesitate on the trigger, he’d have to fight to keep his eyes open because if he closed them all he’d see was Afghanistan.

“Sousa you with me?” Thompson asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath, when had he stopped breathing?

Thompson nodded, more to himself than to Daniel, “Good, cause we’re going to get through this.”

___

If she had been really thinking at all, she might’ve wondered if she was having an out-of-body experience as she moved through the streets of Manhattan with the purpose of a woman on a mission. The Avengers were scattered across the borough trying to fight the Chitauri with mixed success. It seemed like no matter how many they blasted, quaked, shot, or struck with lightning more kept coming through the portal. Daisy was taking out as many of the aliens as she could while trying to command the local police forces- badges or not, they were purely human and severely underprepared to fight this threat. Their services were more equipped to evacuate and protect the civilians.

She hadn’t been paying attention when she knocked into someone’s shoulder. It was a police officer, she noticed, though where most of the officers she’d seen seemed ready to take on the Chitauri head-on, he looked terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” The man questioned, quickly grabbing her wrist before she could run off.

“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go.” Daisy bit back angrily and the man gasped, dropping her arm and backing away like she had burned him.

“You’re- we’re-” The man stuttered and even though he could’ve been about to say anything (maybe “you’re Quake!” or “We’re gonna die!”) Daisy knew exactly what he meant. She knew from the burning sensation on the wrist he had been holding. He was her soulmate.

“Oh my god, I don’t have time for this!” Daisy yelled angrily, quaking the alien that had appeared behind the man.

She silently cursed fate or destiny or whatever was behind this for planning her soulmate meeting during a literal alien invasion.

“Listen, I need you to leave the frontlines- spread the word: all officers are to evacuate as many civilians as possible. Focus on protecting them.” She ordered making an effort to put the world-altering event before the life-altering event she had accidentally just stumbled upon.

“Who’s going to be there to fight?”

Daisy quaked another approaching Chitauri soldier. “Leave that to the people with powers.”

The officer nodded mutely, seemingly stunned into silence.

“Sousa!” Another officer called out, “Quit chatting we have a job to do!”

The dark-haired officer, her soulmate, nodded to the man and started to move away.

“Officer Sousa!” Daisy called, taking steps backward herself, “Maybe we can get some coffee when this is all done?”

“Sure but how’ll I find you?” He asked, turning back to stare at her hopefully.

Daisy’s steps were picking up speed, the urgency of the day not lost on her. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll find you!”

And with that she was off, turning on her heels and sprinting towards Stark Tower.

___

Daisy stared at the computer monitor in front of her. It had been a few days since the Chitauri attack and while New York and her mental state was still a disaster, she needed to do this. The file she had found in SHIELD’s database was a welcome distraction, as was the handsome face staring back at her from the screen.

Daniel Jordan Sousa. Born 1984 in Twin Falls, Idaho. Served one tour in Afghanistan before being discharged due to an injury resulting in the amputation of his left leg.

She scrolled down to the contact information.

Cellphone: (xxx)xxx-xxxx

Bingo.

Daisy: Hi, it’s Daisy Johnson, your soulmate? I was wondering if we could get that coffee?

She was surprised by how quickly he responded.

Daniel: I’d love to!

Daniel: btw how did you get my number?

Daisy: It’s a bit of a story, mind if I tell you over that coffee?

Daniel: does 1:00 work? Maybe we could grab a bite to eat while we’re at it?

Daisy smiled before checking the time, 11 o’clock. She had two hours to get ready.

Daisy: 1:00 sounds great. I know a cute place off 12th ave

___

Daniel had no intention of pulling his soulmate from the field, he knew it was where she wanted to be and he’d never dream of taking it from her. However, he’d be damned if he wasn’t out there to watch her back. So, he joined SHIELD not long after they met. Despite his prosthetic, he climbed the ranks relatively quickly though Daisy wasn’t surprised. She had seen his record both in the military and the police force, Daniel Sousa was a damn fine agent.

The two weren’t in any hurry relationship-wise. They had moved in together fairly quickly but even two years later they had yet to get engaged. It was a bit of an anomaly - soulmates were usually hitched within a year of meeting each other but Daisy didn’t really hold much stock in a piece of paper declaring their relationship valid and Daniel decided he really didn’t need that paper either as long as he still had Daisy. Besides, with their separate jobs at SHIELD, they didn’t really have much time to plan engagements or weddings.

In 2014 the pair were recruited to an elite team by Phil Coulson, the man Daisy could’ve sworn had died in her arms, the man the Avengers were told had died. She had shaken her head at Fury when she found out. “You manipulative son of a bitch,” she had said though she had meant it fondly. Who knows what would’ve happened when the Chitauri invaded if he hadn’t done what he had.

Daisy and Daniel joined scientist duo and soulmates Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz as well as Coulson’s soulmate Melinda May on the Bus, a giant plane Fury had given Coulson as reparations for his death. The team had its bumps in its initial missions but they quickly became a tightly knit family that only grew when Coulson took over as Director of SHIELD after the Hydra takeover.

When Daniel finally proposed Jemma had been her maid of honor and Bobbi and Elena had been her bridesmaids. Likewise, Fitz had been Daniel’s best man and Mack and Hunter had filled out the rest of the groomsmen roles. It had been a small but beautiful wedding, Daisy’s mom had allowed them to have the ceremony at Afterlife and Coulson and May had been their officiants.

Daisy had cursed fate when they met, but looking back she realized it was all worth it for this.

___

a/n: I had no idea how to end this. Also, I have no clue where the 99th precinct operates in NYC (if it even exists) I just wanted to make a Brooklyn 99 reference. Though I’m realizing belatedly that B99 takes place in Brooklyn and probably doesn’t operate in manhattan but oh well.

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tillidontneedfantasy · 5 years ago

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‘Future Nostalgia’ - Dua Lipa REVIEW: Changing the game through timeless pop.

Pop music is important. It distracts us, it brings us joy, it makes us dance, it attaches itself to memories forever. This is Dua Lipa’s blueprint for her sophomore release, Future Nostalgia. It’s there in the name; she wants her music to be everlasting, so that it can be branded with one of the fondest descriptors possible: nostalgic.

Quite an ambitious objective, but not surprising for 2019′s Best New Artist Grammy winner. There is great pressure that comes with such a title, but Dua has proved herself worthy of it on Future Nostalgia. She does not just want to be the best new artist, but one of the best artists, period. “You want a timeless song, I wanna change the game,” is the opening line of the album and title track. Luckily, we all win in this scenario; although the song itself might not be the game changer, there are plenty of tracks on the album that are game changers because they have a timeless feel to them, which is not something many of her contemporaries are doing.

Future Nostalgia’s only drawback is that there is not much lyrical depth; despite misconception, pop music can explore profundity, especially considering the subject matters of love and heartbreak, which are prominent themes of the album. However, I can accept and respect pop music that operates closer to surface level as well, especially when it’s done as well as it is on Future Nostalgia; I mean, I’m not complaining.

STRONGEST TRACK(S): “Don’t Start Now,” “Pretty Please”

Has there ever been a lead single as strong as “Don’t Start Now”? Co-writers and producers for the track include Ian Kirkpatrick, Emily Warren and Caroline Ailin, all of whom penned her excellent breakout song, “New Rules” (sans Lipa) in 2017. The song is split into three segments- verse, pre-chorus, and chorus- all of which sound distinctly different from the others, yet feel like such a natural equation. The bongos in the chorus and the later addition of a string section over the synths, leading to a full and rich final chorus just throw you for such an exciting loop, it is impossible to not have fun listening to this song. On top of the melodic genius of the song, its straightforward lyrical message is just as empowering as the music itself. “Don’t Start Now” is Dua’s expression of liberation from the pain of a heartbreak, and a warning to the breaker in question not to come crawling back when he sees how much she is thriving, and boy, is she!

Despite the enormous success of both “New Rules” and “Don’t Start Now,” Kirkpatrick and Ailin only work with Dua on one other track of the album, “Pretty Please,” and it should come as a surprise to no one that it is the next strongest song on the record. Penned alongside singer-songwriter phenomenon Julia Michaels and co-produced by Juan Ariza, “Pretty Please,” a track about needing the sweet relief of a lover, is one of the album’s few breathers. And in it, Lipa is asking for a breather herself: “when my mind is running wild, could you help me slow it down?” she asks, and then the song brilliantly does just that when she sings the next line, “put my mind at ease,” before returning to its original speed. There are other great musical tricks sprinkled throughout the song, such as a sound that mimics the feeling of the line “trickle down my spine.” The track continues to build musically but is never too much, it’s always just right.

WEAKEST TRACK: “Boys Will Be Boys”

She tried with this one. She really did. Look, I love a song with a strong feminist message as much as the next girl, but this one was just a swing and a miss. The first verse of “Boys Will Be Boys” starts off strong, quite accurately depicting the fear women face on a daily basis, the way we have to alter our behavior to keep ourselves safe. But with each verse, it feels less sincere and more contrived, with lyrics such as “in case you needed it mansplained” and “if you’re offended by this song, you’re clearly doing something wrong.” Additionally, it is an odd closer for an album full of fun pop songs; it’s possible it is there as a warning for anyone who might get to the end of the album and think negatively of how she asserts her femininity and sexuality in a way throughout that is universally accepted when men do the same. And while the intended message is indeed important and true, it lacks the necessary delivery.

THE IN-BETWEENS

The delivery on the lust-filled, dance-inducing tracks are much more effective. “Cool,” an incredibly infectious song about losing control around the person you’re into, experiments with Dua’s vocal abilities and range, with pointed squeaks at the end of her words and a gorgeous switch into her lower register at the beginning of the final chorus. “Physical,” the second official single, is an intense and wildly fun song that could work as the soundtrack for a long drive, a night at the bar with friends, or in a workout class. While the album very successful achieves sonic cohesion, it can sometimes get a bit tiresome; “Hallucinate” feels like it was made simply to be played at festivals, and although the lyrical sentiment of “Love Again” is nice enough it could have been a moment for a more subtle musical departure.

BEST PROSPECTIVE SINGLE: “Levitating”

Never thought I’d be such a fan of a song that uses the term “sugarboo,” yet, here I am. No track on the record quite captures the concept of “future nostalgia” as well as “Levitating” does, with its futuristic sounds and lyrics that I can imagine we will be singing forever (yes, even the “sugarboo” bit!). In every way, it perfectly encapsulates the pure elation that comes with meeting someone and feeling a heaven-made connection. Every element of this song makes it a necessary single choice: it’s extremely catchy, it has a perfect tempo for anyone of any age to dance to it, “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”s, and lyrics in the hook that are perfectly spaced out to remember and chant (”you! moonlight! you’re my! starlight!”). Bruno Mars WISHES he wrote it; it feels like a song for which everyone would get up at a wedding to dance for years and years to come. I, for one, will get up every time, at least.

***

It’s impossible that Dua could have predicted while creating her album that this would be the state of the world at the time of its release. Many artists with new projects have decided to cancel or postpone their releases until further notice due to the COVID-19 pandemic. This is understandable for a myriad of reasons, from the inability to properly promote the work to feeling as if it just might not be the appropriate time. Although it might feel like there is little to dance about right now with the world crumbling around us, Future Nostalgia gives us reason, now and for the future, when we can hopefully look back and remember an album that provided us levity in our darkest hour. So stay indoors, facetime your sugarboo, and thank whatever the hell you pray to for pop music. Grade: 4/5

DISCLAIMER - REVIEWER’S BIAS: I have been a casual fan of Dua since “New Rules” exploded on Tumblr in 2017, but not much more. However, I have a specific fondness for her, as my favorite client of all time was a huge fan of her shortly after, so when I listen to Dua it reminds me of her. I hope she’s loving this album and that it’s bringing her joy and comfort in this uncertain time. I’m a huge proponent for female pop artists and the meticulousness of their craft, and I think Dua has done an excellent job of taking constructive criticism and improving, utilizing her strengths in a way that blur out her weaknesses. The release of “Don’t Start Now” felt like a turning point in her stardom, and this album is the proof. I really would like to see some stronger lyrical work from Dua, as I feel there are little to no moments on the album where I feel impressed or particularly moved by any line, and although I love and support fun and light pop music, I think it’s also very possible to have upbeat pop music with much sharper lyrics. I think she kind of tried but the few times she did they didn’t quite land. If she had a couple of songs stronger on the lyrical front, this would have been a nearly perfect album for me. But for a sophomore effort, this is great. It feels like a nice breath of fresh air in a time that’s filled with anxiety-ridden gasps, and I’m grateful for it.

#dua lipa #future nostalgia #don't start now #cool #physical #levitating #pretty please #hallucinate #love again #break my heart #good in bed #boys will be boys #emily warren #ian kirkpatrick #julia michaels #new rules

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seven-oomen · 4 years ago

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Hi, Ben! I hope your day is going well so far! Are you still getting snow, or has the storm calmed a bit? We’re supposed to be getting a potentially severe ice storm over the course of today. There’s already a thin layer this morning, we’ll see how the rest of the day goes. And temperatures are supposed to stay in about the -4 to -6C range the rest of the week. I’m very glad that I’m off the next couple of days, and managed to get by the grocery last night after work.

I saw your post about writing and writing styles! It was helpful because I’ve not really seen the different styles written out and explained before. I’m still not 100% which I am, but probably either an intuitive plotter or a methodological pantser. Usually there’s a scene or a line or two that I’m like “this needs to happen in this story” and everything else is fairly free-form. I did try actually writing down an outline for IYWTD, but even then it’s more a list of beats/tropes and the order I want to include them in. (And I’ve only just made it past halfway through, although a couple may need to be altered a bit, oh god, how did this get so long…)

It’s also always kinda of amusing to me how many of those writing advice lists are like “Don’t do this”, “Stop doing this”, “Never do that”, and then they’ll encourage you to find your own voice and style. Like, bitch, you just told me not to ever do half the shit that makes up my style. Which am I supposed to do? Damn. XD (You will seriously pry adverbs and similar descriptors from my cold, dead, grasping hands. Also the occasional epithet. No, I’m not using a character’s name nine times in one paragraph, sorry, and pronouns don’t always help if the characters are the same gender. The reader can deal. ;D )

And I feel ya on the tall, skinny, blue-eyed boys thing. It doesn’t have to be just a white boy, but if he’s taller than me, slender, and has a pretty pair of baby blues, my higher brain functions tend to go into insta-lag. I ain’t particularly proud, but I’ve long accepted this about myself (there are many reasons Luke became my forever BAE.) That’s not to say a lack of any of those is a deal-breaker in the slightest, but it’s definitely going to immediately get my attention.

Speaking (vaguely) of Luke, I had a thought the other day of him and Din being off on some planet together (Grogu is staying with Aunt Leia and Uncle Han for a few days), and there’s a noise in the middle of the night, and Din refuses to accept Luke’s assurance that there’s nothing out there, and in true himbo fashion insists on going out to investigate having grabbed only the darksaber and his helmet to cover his face -but nothing else. Luke just finds it a combo of hysterical and adorable (and kinda hot.)

I hope your novel is going well (whatever stage you happen to be at), and I’m always up for hearing whatever you feel like sharing about it.

I hope you’re still doing well with the whole eating and hydrating regularly thing (it’s also totally okay if you aren’t!), and I’m super proud of you for sticking to it as much as you can anyway. That shit is hard. (Also, ignore the 1500 calories thing, I swear that shit is designed for 130lb women trying to shed a few pounds, not people who need to safely and steadily lose larger amounts of weight. But then I’ve also never fully understood making someone lose weight before surgery, either. “We need you to get rid of some excess weight before we’ll okay this surgery to *checks notes* get rid of some excess weight." Like, weird flex, but okay.)

Anyway, I’m rambling again, and should really eat some breakfast and try to write a little myself today, maybe. Hope you’re feeling okay, and that things are going well overall. I hope Mo is doing well, and enjoying his best cuddle buddy life. Take care! *Hugs!*

Okay, gonna try this this way so that I can refer back to the links on my phone if need be. I couldn’t quite see the full entries for the physical descriptions, and when I tried clicking on them it kept asking for a login, but I think I saw enough to get the gist. I’m not sure exactly what sort of feedback you’re interested in, if any, so this will mainly be my usual sort of rambling stream-of-consciousness type thoughts and questions. Hope that’s okay. Feel free to ignore if it’s not what you’re after right now! :D

I think one of the first questions that popped to mind was where is/what happened to Ellie’s mom, and is that something that’s going to cause problems later in some way? (I.e.- was she killed on a hunt, are they divorced, was it bitter or amicable [would she come after her daughter if she heard about his relationship?]) I guess technically similar questions could also apply to Nate (late husband, ex-husband, ex-boyfriend, one night stand, sperm donor?) it was just more noticeable with Ellie being so young still. Although that could also be part of why he’s ended up in Wyoming, which was another question I had, although there I assume it’s hunt-related.

I also anticipate quite a bit of tension of all kinds when he and Nate first meet, because Faron strikes me from his descriptions as someone rather used to being able to get his own way either through the influence of who he is, or through his size (not necessarily in any kind of intentional or aggressive way, more in an unconscious privilege kind of way, if that makes sense?), and I don’t think Nate sounds like the type to give two shits about either of those things, and it would probably drive Faron up the proverbial wall that Nate isn’t intimidated by him in the slightest. (I could be entirely wrong about all this, this is just the impression I get so far. :D ) And I think Nate being noticeably older than him would just make it that much more irritating at first, too. Now, how long these impressions last will just depend on how quickly they get to know each other, and whether Bachelor #3 is helping or hindering things. XD The potential for just sitting back and watching the fireworks as “laid-back dad jokes with a quick temper” clashes with “quiet, reserved, and possibly takes themselves slightly too seriously” might prove too much for our last contestant for a while, depending on where his personality falls. ;D (Especially since Faron coming in and starting shit will likely come off as a direct threat to people and places Nate considers under his protection.)

Also, are any of these three going to have met before? Will Nate already have some sort of relationship with the werewolf (Does he already know about the supernatural at all?) Did he and Faron encounter each other on the trip to Europe you mentioned in the Life Highlights? If he and the wolf already know each other, how does he get along with Cas, or Nate’s pets? Is the werewolf also going to be native to the region? Does he know anything about Faron’s family? Does Faron already know he’s a werewolf, or is that going to be a bit of a crisis for him later? A test of how well he’s learned not to judge? If Nate doesn’t already know, how will he deal with both their secrets? Do you plan for full-shift only wolves, partial-shift only wolves, or a mix of the two like TW? Are there other supes in the area?

I think you mentioned maybe having him be of Native American descent? I think that could be very interesting, but would require a LOT of research into which tribes are active in the Yellowstone area, and what their individual mythologies say about things like shapeshifters, and LGTBQ+ issues, etc., because there can be a fair amount of variance, I’m sure. Also, I’m just overall curious how he’ll fit in with the other two size wise (get your mind out of the gutter, you know what I mean. XD ) Also curious if any o them are going to have the slightest clue on the feelings front, or are they all going to be just absolute disasters? Will the kids figure it out before they do? Will the kids get along? (Will BachelorWolf have any kids of his own, or just Nate and Faron?) Will Nate’s coworkers have any clue about either the supernatural, or what’s going on with those three? Because I suspect at least some of them will be way more obvious than they think they’re being. XD

Uh… I think that was all that’s occured to me right now?… I’m sorry you’re having a yucky day overall, and I hope tomorrow’s a bit better! The ice storm has finally moved in here, and I can feel the temperature drop radiating off of the front door and windows. It went from rain to freezing rain/hail and I’m not sure how long it’s supposed to last. Hopefully only a little while. Also, sorry your book was terrible. I haven’t seen too many recent recommendations from friends, and I’ve been mostly reading “cozy” mysteries (Agatha Christie, Elizabeth Peters, etc) as my comfort reading myself, lately, so I can’t really suggest anything in particular, unfortunately. At least, nothing I think you wouldn’t already know. Anyway, hope you’re getting some decent rest, and hope you have a better day tomorrow! Take care! *Hugs!*

Alright since this is going to be like a very long one, I’m break it down into a few things.

First full physical descriptions, cause I didn’t know Milanote would be a bitch about it.

Nate:

164 cm (5'4), 75 kg (166 lbs), Short slightly overweight trans man in his middle age. Nearly always the shortest man in the room, only standing around 5'4 and weighing in around 166 lbs. With kind moss green eyes that have permanent crow's feet in their corners and a polite but reserved smile always on his face.

A face that's framed by faint freckles that are only visible in the sunlight. A neatly trimmed beard spices up his features and frames his pink lips. His thick but short eyebrows frame his eyes and create a short arc to his slim nose.

A high forehead separates his brows from his wavy dark blond hair that's always tucked behind his ears.

He generally wears the Superintendents' Park Ranger uniform while on duty. When he's not he wears comfortable jeans and t-shirts, usually a mono color like green, white, or black, plaid flannel shirts, socks with the weirdest patterns and colors, and hiking boots. He wears a steel ring on his right index finger and has a little steel Mjolnir on a necklace around his neck.

He's missing two fingers (his ring and little finger) on his left hand due to a childhood accident.

Faron:

185 cm (6'1 ft), 93 kg (205 lbs), Faron is a tall man with plenty of muscle from his time hunting. He can seem daunting and intimidating when you first meet him but there is a kinder, softer side to him. He has a warm light brown skin color, blue eyes, and black natural tight curly hair that he keeps very short. His full dark beard decorates his cheeks and chin, connects to his upper lip, and all the way up to his sideburns.

He tends to wear dark clothing, leather jackets, no jewelry that could identify him, jeans, henley shirts, or V-neck shirts, and black, brown, or red jackets. He usually wears black combat boots or dark brown hiking boots. He's got knives and other weapons hidden all over his body and pockets and it might take him a good few minutes to unload every single knife from his body when he was to disarm.

There are also scars all over his body, including some scars on his neck that are visible from day to day life. He had the bad luck of being struck down by a vicious Wendigo but managed to escape. He survived thanks to his sister's quick thinking and first aid.

He covers some of those scars up with tattoos; he has one tattoo of a dragon laying down on his shoulder, with its head on his chest and its body curling over his shoulder and ending just below his shoulder blades. And one tattoo covers up some scars on his lower arm, it's a tattoo of a wolf's head that covers up a bite mark.

Dichali:

He’s 37 and has 4 siblings, and two children, Kajika & Kaniya (Jika & Niya, identical twins, but one of them identifies as male, he’s trans. Kajika is his chosen/reassigned name. They are 10.) Dichali grew up in Riverton, WY, which is the largest town of 10,000 in the largest Native Reservation in Wyoming. He’s also a dear friend to our Nate (who is also his boss technically) and has slowly been falling in love with him for the last few years. (Although he still hasn’t realized that he loves his friend.)

Yena, his coworker and friend, who’s much younger at 25 has been watching her coworker and her boss joke and dance around each other. She has a betting pool with her girlfriend on who snaps first.

Not sure how I’ll connect him to Faron if it’s more fun/better to have him find out later or to already know him and keep it quiet.

I’m still working on him, so I don’t have much of personality and other things written down yet. But I have made his physical description:

At 178 cm (5'8) and 83 kilos (182 lbs) Dichali probably isn't the tallest man you've met, he's also not the shortest. And while he's got some good muscle on him from working as a Park Ranger, and being a werewolf, he also has some softer sides. All the better to cuddle with. He has long straight brown hair that falls to his mid-back and deep brown eyes and a long nose that ends prominently. His eyebrows are thin and he has a high forehead. His skin is a light Tawny color, there's a hint of an orange brown with a cool undertone.

His skin is also relatively clear and youthful looking because of his lycanthropy.

He tends to wear pants and jackets made by native designers and always incorporates native fashion into his outfits. He has jackets of mostly gray, blue, brown, and black colors made of denim, cotton, wool, or brass that are lined with more traditional cloths and patterns like the designer brand Ginew. Usually he pairs them with dark jeans, either black, gray, or dark blue. He pairs it with white, blue, red, black, or printed band t-shirts (Metallica, Green Day, Marianas Trench).

For shoes he has brown hiking boots that are part of the Ranger uniform, more western styled boots like black cowboy boots, and a pair of sneakers.He also wears a copper bracelet with lighting bolts etched into it.

Now this whole story got started because I had the question what if we had a DILF romance going on while/because the following happened?

What if a YouTube video that accidentally got uploaded shows the existence of a werewolf in Yellowstone park? Threatening to expose the entire supernatural world.

The werewolves right now are a mix, so half shift is like the classical half shift of a wolf head on a man’s body, but the full shift is more like a larger wolf. Almost the size of a black bear. Though I might change those ideas as the story progresses.

But that is how the Cryptid of Yellowstone is brought into the world. And that brings problems. Big problems.

Wendigos, vampires, djins, I plan to create a world where a lot of supernatural creates exist. From all sorts of cultures. I’m also toying with the idea of Kelpies and Griffins. That kind of stuff.

The supernatural world is hidden from ours, hidden in plain sight if you will. Most encounters are written off as really strange, sometimes a picture pops up, but with the coming of the internet, things have gotten more complicated. Also with deforestation and competition with regular wildlife has made some bigger supernatural creatures either extinct or thought to be extinct. They’re not sure what still lives in Australia, though.

Nate or his son don’t know about the supernatural world. Neither does Yena. Or much of the world. Dichali, his children (to some extent), Faron, and Faron’s family do know about this world.

Alright, as for your other post XD

Right now it’s no longer storming but due to the freezing temperatures the snow’s not going away and all public transport and delivery services are still not driving/delivering/running. So that’s neat. Not.

I swear we get some snow and the country is just down. Upside, ain’t nobody going outside and this helps with lockdown.

I hope your snowstorm won’t be too bad and everything thaws down soon. Snow’s fun for a day but after that...

Make sure you stay warm alright? And bundle up.

Yes dad... alright XD

Honestly, I’m glad to hear you liked my advice too. I’m getting quite a bit of positive feedback on it and that just makes me really happy ^^. I’m definitely writing more writing advice from everything I’ve learned so far.

There’s honestly so many contradicting ones out there, it’s a matter of picking and choosing which ones work best for you and applying those. And that’s the real trick of advice.

Fun fact, a lot of famous writers are also pantsers. Steven King, Neil Gaiman, George RR Martin are examples of famous pantsers or gardeners as they are also called.

John Grisham, JK Rowling, RL Stein fall into the plotter or architect category.

Writers like Hank Green seem to fall in the in-between category of plantser (somewhere between a plotter and a pantser. Or the Intuitive plotter.)

Okay but the DinLuke things is really really kinda hot and cute and adorable and has me smiling <3

And I can’t remember what else I wanted to say since it is like 2 am and my meds are seriously kicking in now.

But I hope you’re doing alright and that the snowstorm isn’t too bad where you’re at.

I’ll be alright, my diet hasn’t been going so well the last few days and I can’t really exercise, but I did mostly get healthy groceries that will be delivered friday so there’s that.

Fingers crossed I can pick it back up.

Okay I’m heading to bed XD

I’ll talk to you later, B <3

Hugs from me and Mo <3

#my ocs #please don't reblog #B #my convos with anon #ben writes original fiction #submission

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faejilly · 6 years ago

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i am for you (11/?)

so apparently this is going to update every other week rather than every week, despite my best intentions. AH WELL. Have some Maryse POV, because she’s my favorite.

None of Maryse's children would tell her anything about Alec's new boyfriend.

Izzy and Jace were an odd combination of amused and confused and possibly worried when she asked. Izzy said he was a professor at UIA, and Jace said Magnus was very... fancy. And then he shrugged liked he'd used up his quota of words on the subject. She thought it was supposed to be a compliment, and Jace was just surprised that Alec liked fancy.

Maryse found she wasn't, but she didn't think she could explain why not in a way that Jace might understand.

Clary grinned and said she didn't want to ruin Maryse's first impression.

Maryse was not at all sure what that meant.

Simon and Maia were there when she asked Clary, so they didn't say anything either, though they at least looked vaguely apologetic as they went along with Clary's decision.

Clary had that effect on people a lot. It was a good thing Clary was fundamentally a good person or she'd probably be leading a cult of some sort within the next decade. She was terrifyingly like her birth parents some times.

She also laughed delightedly at Maryse's expression after refusing to help, and Maryse couldn't help but smile and concede the point. Clary was also wonderfully like her father.

No one would tell Lucian anything about Magnus either, but it didn't seem to bother him as much. When he laughed at Maryse's fretting and pulled her into a hug in the middle of the kitchen to distract her from her fourth or fifth attempt at meal planning, she found she didn't mind too much anymore.

"I think this is going to be really important." Maryse whispered into her husband's neck, unable to make herself speak up. She wasn't entirely sure what she was afraid of, but she could feel the weight of something approaching, and she didn't think it was just surprise that Alec was introducing someone to the family for the first time.

Lucian kissed her temple. "You're usually right about Alec. Important doesn't mean bad or stressful though, or something we need to worry about."

"But I don't know how not to worry."

Lucian laughed again, his chest rumbling against her. "You'll ride it out until it's better, you always do."

"You have such faith in me."

He lifted up her chin and kissed her gently. "You've earned every bit of it."

She kissed him again, just because she could, and decided she'd worry about planning dinner later.

***

saturday

***

[newgroup]

[maia]: so how bad's your hangover, Clary?

[clary]: don't type so loud

[simon]: do I need to bring you some Lewis Hangover Cure™, Fray?

[clary]: oh god. I will give you anything you want [clary]: My firstborn [clary]: MY SOUL [clary]: please

[simon]: like I'd know what to do with a kid. Don't even threaten me with that for a joke.

[clary]: SORRY. THANK YOU. PLS

[simon]: sure thing, gimme 20

[maia]: I'm surprised you managed to drink that much, Alec and Magnus were really distracting

[jace]: What?

[maia]: they were having date night at the club [maia]: you missed Alec dancing again!

[izzy]: Alec was at a club? Wow. And I missed it? Pictures?

[maia]: Pandemonium

[izzy]: damnit

[jace]: that's so [jace]: this is so weird [jace]: I'm not the only one who thinks this is weird, right?

[izzy]: not even a little bit

[clary]: but I think it's a GREAT weird

[maia]: They seemed happy

[jace]: No one else is worried that it's not very... Alec-like?

[izzy]: you've got to trust his judgment Jace, it's his life [izzy]: everyone's allowed one grand impulsive romance, aren't they?

[jace]: look what happened the last time Alec did something out of character

[izzy]: ... [izzy]: that was eight years ago

[jace]: doesn't make it feel any better, does it?

[clary]: are you talking about?

[izzy]: yeah

[maia]: shit

[clary]: I still think it's good weird. But I get why you're worried about him

[jace]: I want to think that [jace]: Magnus does seem like he's as into this as Alec is [jace]: But that could just mean they're both about to crash? [jace]: or we could be completely wrong about Magnus and he's actually a giant dick

[maia]: you can't put it like that, this is a serious conversation and I get entirely where you're coming from but now all I can think about is I bet Alec likes his giant dick and I didn't need to think that

[clary]: 🤣🤣🤣

[izzy]: If you didn't want to think it, why'd you type it?

[maia]: well, once it happened it was too late to pretend it hadn't. No reason not to share.

[clary]: bet Alec doesn't want to share Magnus' giant dick

[izzy]: 👏👏👏

[jace]: 🙄🙄🙄

[jace]: I know I'm probably over-reacting [jace]: I just want him safe and happy and he's never even MENTIONED a guy he's been on A date with, much less a relationship, since he came out and

[izzy]: suddenly he's joined at the hip with a guy we don't know

[jace]: yeah

[izzy]: it's a lot

[maia]: and wow am I glad I'm better at this group message thing than Jace, cuz that'd be one awkward conversation for Alec to walk into later

[jace]: hell yes you are, thanks

[izzy]: As Simon isn't here to do the usual: "because you're the best, Maia"

[maia]: *bows*

***

[tessa]: I know you're working a double today [tessa]: want me to buy you some lunch in-between?

[cat]: I am actually meeting Magnus' Alec for lunch

[tessa]: because if you'd just said Alec I wouldn't have known who you meant?

[cat]: ha. Maybe? It feels like an important descriptor. Would you like to join us? He seems like he's just sort of letting Magnus' friends happen to him.

[tessa]: ha right back at you... that's probably a good way to deal with us though [tessa]: and thank you, but no, he's met you already, that's different than springing a stranger on him. I'll see him Sunday for brunch, after all. Besides, Dot would be so sad if she met him last. I'll savor the suspense for one more day

[cat]: that's very thoughtful of you. [cat]: I could see if Dot can come, and then you'll be the odd one out tomorrow 😉

[tessa]: I doubt she's up yet. Ragnor's observatory nights usually go 'til almost dawn, counting driving back home again.

[cat]: I should really try and go on the next one, I haven't managed it in ages

[tessa]: but sleep!

[cat]: I know! [cat]: when did we get so old?

[tessa]: we'll never be old, kitty cat [tessa]: that's what Ragnor's for. He'll be old for the rest of us

[cat]: but he's the one who can still stay up all night

[tessa]: by napping and ignoring people all day. He was an old man when he was 10, I bet

[cat]: he is a such a lovely old grouch isn't he? [cat]: he definitely knows Alec things he's not sharing, he's got too much smug going on

[tessa]: are we surprised by that?

[cat]: no, just pointing out the obvious I guess [cat]: I think I want to pretend my break's not almost over

[tessa]: you love your job, even when it's exhausting, and you get to meet the pretty six foot tall boy who blushes over lunch!

[cat]: are you going to tell him that that is how I described him?

[tessa]: depends on how pretty he is [tessa]: if he's too pretty I will start talking without realizing it and it might very well happen

[cat]: I'm doomed

[tessa]: really? How delightful. Is he pretty enough to keep up with Magnus?

[cat]: Entirely different sort of pretty, but yes, I think so

[tessa]: amazing. I can't wait 'til Sunday

[cat]: invitation for lunch is still open?

[tessa]: nah, but thanks [tessa]: now get back to work

[cat]: 💙

***

[clary]: so how'd lunch go?

[izzy]: Magnus is delightful and brilliant and gorgeous [izzy]: and tried to get the check even though I invited him [izzy]: but was entirely good natured about it when I paid [izzy]: so [izzy]: better than any of my blind dates [izzy]: and most of my regular dates [izzy]: I'm a little jealous that Alec seems so much better at this than the rest of us

[simon]: speak for yourself

[izzy]: do I need to remind you of your seven-year crush on your best friend the LESBIAN

[clary]: wait, Simon had a crush on me?

[maia]: your best friend the CLUELESS lesbian

[simon]: you did not need to remind me of that, no [simon]: and yes I did. It was really obvious. I had more than a couple baristas & waiters either offer sympathy or tell me to just ask you out over the years. They saw us together for five minutes and they knew. [simon]: pretty sure they could tell from the ISS

[clary]: REALLY?

[izzy]: really really

[clary]: my whole word has wobbled, I don't know what to do with this [clary]: do you think I'm that oblivious to GIRLS who like me too?

[jace]: yes

[izzy]: yes

[maia]: yes

[simon]: you're even worse, girls actively try and hit on you rather than pining like I did and you don't notice

[clary]: well. Fuck.

[maia]: only there's not fucking, isn't that the problem?

[izzy]: you are X rated today, are you a little frustrated?

[simon]: I don't know if that's a dig at me or Maia, but either way: HEY

[maia]: maybe I just feel sorry for the rest of you that you're not getting laid on the regular like I am [maia]: and Alec, apparently

[jace]: ew [jace]: why is it always about sex

[izzy]: you've had sex and you know we all have sex

[jace]: yeah, but [jace]: it's nice exercise? [jace]: I mean. I don't mind it [jace]: but I don't get it

[simon]: I still want to make you a shirt [simon]: Jace is Ace. Maybe Jace The Ace! [simon]: it rhymes!

[izzy]: you're such a dork

[simon]: but you love me anyway! That's what family's for

[izzy]: I do, unfortunately

[simon]: 😜

[jace]: we're all going to be there on Sunday right?

[clary]: I think so [clary]: did Maryse try and ask you guys about Magnus, too?

[izzy]: yeah, Jace called him *fancy*

[jace]: was I wrong?

[izzy]: no, but I don't think that helped Mom figure out what to make for dinner

[jace]: well I don't know what he likes to eat, what was I supposed to say?

[maia]: that he looked at Alec like he hung the moon and stars [maia]: I'm assuming that's the kind of thing a Mom would like to hear

[simon]: and it's not like it's even an exaggeration

[clary]: they're adorable

[jace]: weird but good. Right. Why am I nervous? I'm not the one bringing a date to meet the parents

[izzy]: oh wow imagine if he actually had to meet all our parents

[jace]: I have like five options & they're all terrible except Maryse

[maia]: Terrible or dead. Ghost parents?

[simon]: well that's a horrifying mental image

[clary]: My mom would be a kick-ass ghost

[simon]: your mom was a kick-ass everything

[clary]: she was, wasn't she? [clary]: I still miss her

[simon]: we always will

[izzy]: would it be terribly insensitive of me to say I *wish* I could miss my dad?

[simon]: horrifyingly so, holy shit Izzy [simon]: but still fair. I get it [simon]: but counter suggestion [simon]: if he was the kind of guy you could miss your Mom probably wouldn't have left the way she did, and none of you would be here, and I don't want to imagine Alicante without the Lightwoods

[izzy]: awww. Same. I feel like I'd miss you guys, though I wouldn't know what I was missing

[maia]: it'd be quieter [maia]: I mean boring. which would be... bad [maia]: I Can Not Even Imagine hOw dUll our lives would be It would be Awful

[jace]: I can hear the sarcasm across town there

[maia]: hey. If I really didn't like you guys I'd tell you to your face

[clary]: she makes a good point

[jace]: doesn't mean she can go five minutes without sniping at us

[maia]: why should I? you fuss so pretty when I do

[izzy]: I finally figured out why she likes Alec best, they're both assholes

[maia]: it's a feature, not a bug!

[clary]: I feel like we should make a follow-up to this morning's dick jokes via Magnus appreciating Alec's ass [clary]: but I also feel like if I do that Jace might murder me in my sleep

[jace]: so you did it in the hypothetical in an attempt to have your cake and eat it too?

[izzy]: Cake is not a better choice of metaphor if you want to get away from the sex talk

[jace]: you are all terrible why do I talk to you

[simon]: uh, because we're adorable and you love us

[jace]: that sounds fake but ok

[clary]: we love you too, Jace

[jace]: 😔 [jace]: 🖤

[izzy]: 😘

***

sunday

***

Maryse opened the door for Alec and his date and knew immediately what Clary meant. She couldn't blame Maia or Simon at all. Magnus Bane was stunning. On several levels.

She always knew Alec had good taste.

Magnus was polite and charming, and for all he'd claimed to be "a reasonable amount of nervous" he didn't show a bit of it. Alec was a little tense, but easily distracted by Magnus' everything, and he had such a smile every time their eyes met. Maryse wasn't sure she'd ever seen the like.

It was a good dinner. Conversation never flagged, Jace and Lucian easily talking about the people they'd worked with the past week. Simon's brain was clearly still half caught in the song he was currently writing, but he focused back in enough to tell them all that Maia had aced her last lab report. Maia sputtered a little but accepted all their congratulations. Clary told them about her current art project, while Izzy complained about her pathology class in a tone of voice that was clearly more delighted than annoyed. Magnus told them all about his and Alec's crossed-email-chain, and Maryse had to admit it was a charming story. Almost enough to make one believe in fate giving them a hand. That or the University servers were haunted by helpful ghosts.

Lucian cleared the table when everyone was done, and Izzy leaned across the table toward Alec. "So, did you warn him?"

"Warn me about what?" Magnus flicked a glance back and forth, and Clary giggled.

Alec rolled his eyes. "We're not really—"

"'Course we are," Simon interrupted. "We always do."

Alec groaned, and Magnus turned towards Maryse with wide-eyes and lifted eyebrows.

"We found half an old board game in the pantry when we moved in," Maryse said.

"We think it was supposed to be one of those dumb date night or newlywed 'how well you know your partner' things." Clary added. "But we've uh. Adapted it."

Magnus tilted his head, aimed a loud stage whisper at Alec. "What does that mean and why did you make that noise?"

"They're going to ask a bunch of really stupid questions off of cards and then laugh at everyone’s answers."

Magnus blinked. "That sounds harmless."

Jace scoffed. "Should say that to Kaelie and Maureen and Jordan and Meliorn and Louisa and Andrew..."

Maia smacked Jace on the shoulder. "Pretty sure that had more to do with Lightwoods being scary intense rather than a party game."

"And Magnus has already survived that!" Izzy grinned. "And to be fair, some of them we're much better off without. Alec seems to have better taste in dates than the rest of us."

"Wouldn't take much," Lucian muttered as he sat next to Maryse again. "Sometimes I worry about our children."

Maryse leaned over and kissed him on the temple, lingering for a moment against the warmth of his skin to hum her agreement.

"Ha ha," Clary blew him a kiss. "You love us."

"That I do, kiddo." Lucian agreed. "Now, are we going to subject Magnus to our interrogation here, or in the living room?"

Alec rolled his eyes. "I promise it's not really an interrogation."

Magnus laughed, and pushed back from the table. He offered Alec a hand up. "I'm not worried. But I presume you'd like a bit more room to stretch your legs?"

Alec's smile lit up the whole room, and he took Magnus' hand. "Thanks."

They headed toward the living room, and Maryse blinked at their backs. She had a feeling she'd underestimated things when she'd thought Magnus might be important to Alec. She had a sneaking suspicion he was surprisingly close to vital already, after only a week or two.

It was slightly terrifying, but she'd never been happier for him.

It really wasn't an interrogation. They went around to everyone with the questions off the game cards; it was a chance for Magnus to break through the Lightwood united front as much as it was a chance for them to get to know Magnus.

Well, and Lucian did always keep a close eye on anyone their children thought worth bringing home. He hadn't been a cop in almost twenty years, but some habits he'd kept. He seemed relaxed tonight, leaning against Maryse's side and laughing warmly at some of the answers.

"Adjunct?" Izzy asked Magnus. "That's your least favorite word."

"Look at a university employment contract for part-time and entry-level teaching or research positions." Magnus waved a hand elegantly through the air, light glinting off his rings and catching in the matte finish of his dark blue nail polish. "'Adjunct' is the devil's word."

"Why are you so concerned about Magnus' answer?" Alec asked, though he was smiling as he spoke. "It wasn't even his question."

"There's nothing funny about moist." Clary shuddered. "I agree with Izzy on that answer completely."

Maryse shook her head. "But now it's actually Magnus' turn." She reached her hand out until Jace passed her the box, and she pulled out the next card. "What was the first thing you said when you met?" Maryse glanced up from the card at Alec and Magnus.

Alec lifted his chin as his mouth curled up into half a smile. "Pretty sure I apologized."

"You did, quite prettily, and then I asked you if you believed in fate." Magnus was holding Alec's hand, and his thumb moved gently across Alec's knuckles, and they both looked so peaceful, so content, leaning against each other and settled on the couch.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Alec so simply happy, and she agreed with Magnus' word again, that odd sensation of fate, of destiny, almost tangible when they looked at each other.

"That's the email though, right, the one that didn't go to Professor Fell." They both did a surprisingly well-timed shrug-nod maneuver, and Maryse's eyes narrowed. There was something. She was missing something. "What was the first thing you said, though, when you met in person?"

Alec went a little too still, and looked at Magnus, and it was such a speaking sort of look, she recognized a silent conversation when she saw one. Magnus exhaled, and she could hear a shudder in the sound, and had a feeling she'd found the thing she was looking for.

"Magnus?" Alec's voice was soft, and so tender that Maryse's throat ached.

"Alexander." Magnus' eyes were too bright, and Maryse couldn't swallow.

"Marry me." The entire room was still, and she didn't think her family had ever been so quiet, even when they were all sleeping.

"Ok." Magnus smiled, and Maryse forgot how to breathe. "Kiss me?"

"God, yes."

Alec and Magnus leaned into each other, the small space between them disappearing as they kissed, and there was something so fragile in the lift of Magnus' chin, in the way Alec's fingers brushed against Magnus' jaw, that Maryse could feel the hot prick of tears in her eyes.

It was still so quiet she could hear the kiss, could hear their lips part, the way they breathed, even as Magnus lifted his hand to hold Alec's fingers against his jaw, to keep them both so close together.

"And then Lydia interrupted us." Alec's voice was so full of love that Maryse wondered if she'd remember how to breathe again before she died.

"Which is probably good." Magnus' voice had a hint of a wry twist, but underneath that it was just as heartbreakingly sincere as Alec's. "Or we might have gotten in trouble for indecent behavior in a public bus-stop."

Alec laughed, and the shiver in the air broke, and Maryse inhaled as he and Magnus leaned back against the couch and turned to face the rest of them.

"What!" Izzy stood up, and her face was a twist of about ten different emotions, and the only one making it out into her voice was shock.

"Izzy." Jace hissed, and grabbed her hand to hold her still. He had the same tangle of conflicted feelings visible in his eyes, but on him the overwhelming conclusion looked closer to grief.

"But?" Izzy gestured back and forth, and her eyes were much too wide, worry and confusion.

Maryse looked at Alec, and she smiled. She recognized that look in his eyes.

"Congratulations," Maryse lifted her voice to make sure no one interrupted. She looked at Magnus, at the glint of surprise he hadn't tried to hide at her reaction, and felt her smile widen. "Welcome to the family, Magnus."

"Maryse," Lucian's voice was low beside her, and she turned and she smiled at him, and saw his breath catch at something in her face.

"Sometimes you just know. Just like I knew when we washed up here." She leaned forward a little, her hand balanced on his thigh, staring into his eyes. He had such beautiful eyes. "I didn't know how we'd get there, or when, but I looked up into your face and you smiled at me and I knew. This was it."

He smiled back then, just as beautiful and startled as that first one years ago, and shook his head just a little. "Wish you'd told me that a little sooner, it would have made some things much less stressful for me."

"Sometimes a little worry's good for you." She leaned forward enough to kiss him before she made herself stand up.

She walked over to Alec and reached down to tug him up out of the couch and hug him properly. When she let go she lifted a hand and placed it on his cheek, and his eyes were damp and she was pretty sure hers had overflowed by now, faint warm tracks down her cheeks. "You have always been much too much like me for your own good, my boy."

She patted Alec on the arm, and leaned around him to include Magnus in her smile. Magnus stared back with something that was a cross between a shocked deer-in-headlights and honest adoration, completely ignoring the tears welling up in his eyes that were such a close mirror to her own. "I hope you like the idea of a large family, Magnus, because you're stuck with us."

She stepped back, and wiped her hands together, and exhaled. She ignored Jace, who was staring at her with his mouth half-open like a landed fish, and Izzy, who wasn't really any better but at least had her mouth closed. She smiled at their other children, almost all of them, we're so close now, so soon, Clary with her hands over her mouth and Simon with his lips pressed too close together holding in a nervous joke or three and Maia, the only one Maryse thought maybe understood what she meant about washing up against the place, the people, that were about to become home.

Maia had had such a wary look on her eyes when Luke had hired her, as if she'd never thought she'd find a safe place to stand again, and wasn't quite sure how to trust this one, no matter how much she wanted it, needed it. But she'd made herself try, made herself stay, because somehow she'd known that this was her chance.

She had that look sometimes still, as if she was afraid someday it might all fall apart, even now. It happened a lot less often than it used to, and that was good enough. Some day they'd get rid of it completely, Maryse was sure.

As sure as she'd been of Lucian. And now Alec's Magnus.

"And I think this calls for some wine!" Maryse grinned, and spun around and left the room.

"I think I'm in love with your mother, Alexander." Magnus' voice drifted out behind her, and Alec laughed so hard he snorted, and Maryse felt so light she thought she might float all the way to the wine and back.

#jilly writes #shadowhunters #malec #maryse lightwood #lightwood family feels #my sh fic #i am for you #this is the most ridic thing I've ever written #and that's saying something #I go ALL OUT #when I write fluff #pls enjoy the ridiculous with me #<3

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kellanved-ammanas · 6 years ago

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Space Mercenaries AU: Town

It took Engie only a few hours to fix the biggest issues with the van in the garage, allowing the nine of them to head off to the town visible on the horizon. They sort of snuck off without telling Miss Pauling. She hadn’t expressly forbidden them from going anywhere but she also hadn’t said they were free to go wherever they pleased, making the venture questionably allowed at best.

Demo had considered suggesting they ask her first, she was their boss after all, but hadn’t because no one else was mentioning that they probably should. No doubt many of the others had had the same thought and similarly dismissed it for the same or similar reason. They had a right to explore their new environment before starting work for real, right? It was a whole new planet after all, how could they be expected to resist exploring at least a little bit especially where there was an obvious alien town right close by? Unless it was a human settlement, which was possible, this obviously wasn’t the first time humans had come here. Either way they had a right to explore it.

Engie, being the one to fix the car had won the unquestionable right to drive it. Spy was in the passenger seat, he’d taken it while everyone else except for Sniper, Pyro, and Heavy had argued over it, he was an asshole like that. Leaving the rest of them to pile in the back. It was a bit crowded, especially the back row where Heavy sat but they made do. Scout’s chatter made for background noise in place of a radio.

Demo was lucky enough to get a window seat. Through it he saw the town’s sign as they drove by. It looked like it was made of a whiteish stone with black ‘lettering’ – it looked more like scribbles than anything else – on it, probably an alien language. Meaning the town they were headed for was an alien town, exciting news.

Engie drove into the middle of town and parked. There weren’t any parking spots, he just sort of parked off to the side. They all piled out of the car to greet the natives gathering around to investigate – hopefully they weren’t hostile.

“The lizardmen are real, I knew it,” Soldier said – more like shouted – as soon as he out of the van. “Watch out everyone, they can suck out your brains and turn you into one of their slaves.”

“Uh buddy,” Demo said taking Soldier’s arm. “I don’t think you got to worry about them, they ain’t lizardmen, they’re aliens.”

‘Lizardmen’ wasn’t a terrible descriptor for them though. They were scaly and did kind of look like upright lizards. Their faces were too flat though, their large round eyes placed on their heads similar to how a human’s would be, and they lacked tails. Their scales were a bit too shiny and backwards, running up their bodies instead of down. They were various shades of red presumably to blend in with the sand. Said camouflage was ruined by their brightly colour clothing though, there was a lot of pink and purple but there were some bright blues and greens too. All of which combined to make them look pretty ridiculous especially since they were all rather short and stocky.

Before anyone else could say anything or attempt to communicate with them, Pyro jumped forward and started signing to them. His hand motions were slow at first but quickly picked up as he evidently grew more confident with it. Demo couldn’t see super well from where he stood but from what he could see it was clear that Pyro wasn’t using the same sign language he used with the team. Which by itself was odd but what was even odder was that the several of the lizard-alien-men responded, making weird almost chirping noises before one of them stepped forward and started signing back, using six fingered hands.

“What’s he saying to them?” Scout asked. “And like why would they know sign language?”

“Uh… we don’t know what he’s saying,” Engie answered.

“Yeah, I ain’t never seen those signs before,” Demo added.

“So… Pyro knows alien sign language too?” Scout asked.

“Looks like it,” Soldier said. “Tell them if they try to suck any of our brains out or anal probe us we’ll blow up their entire village and plant Earth’s flag here instead.”

Pyro jumped back around to sign at them in the language they all knew. “I told them we come in peace and explained why we’re here. They’re cool with it as long as we leave them out of our war and don’t kill them or maim them. One of them said they’ll eat us if we do. I told them we don’t taste good but I don’t think they care.”

“Where’d you learn to communicate with them?” Spy asked, crossing his arms and glaring at Pyro.

Pyro shrugged. “I met one once, they taught me. But it means I get to be useful now.” He clapped his hands and did a little dance.

“This isn’t fair,” Scout pouted. “He’s moving his hands too fast so even if he’s using signs I know I can’t understand them.”

“Ugh,” Spy complained right back. “Someone translate for him and then let’s explore, it might be important that we know the layout of this town. Unfortunately, we have to stay as a group since only one of us is capable of communicating with the natives right now.”

Despite Spy being the one to mention they needed to stay as a group he vanished almost as soon as they started exploring. Demo might not have noticed if he wasn’t looking out for that exact thing; they’d been on the same team long enough now that Demo knew what was up with him. Whether he was still with them and invisible, had peeled off to explore on his own, or had changed his form to blend in with the small group of locals following them was hard to say though. Nor did it really matter, he was a sneaky bastard no matter which it was.

What did matter though was if this town had a bar. If so, would Demo be able to drink the alcohol these lizard-alien-men drank without dying? Even more importantly, would he be able to get drunk off it? Well, there was only one way to find out.

“Pyro, ask them if they have a bar and alcohol.”

“Now is not the time to get drunk,” Heavy said.

“No, no,” Medic countered, making a calm down gesture towards Heavy. “It’s important to test and I want to know what it does to him. I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t kill him.”

Heavy sighed but seemed to give in. And if anyone else had a complaint they didn’t voice it either. Good that made things easier.

Pyro had been signing to the lizard-alien-man – ‘man’ wasn’t a good word for them, was it? since they weren’t human – who was acting as their guide according to him and now turned to face Demo again, walking backwards without even changing pace. Wonders never seemed to cease with him. “They said they do. They also said if you don’t have money for it you won’t get any even if you are an alien human.”

“Fuck.” It was doubtful they’d take the currency from his home planet which was all he had on him right now. But this just proved that bar and innkeepers were the same everywhere no matter their species, they weren’t willing to give out free drinks just because. An understandable response really but still a pain when one was broke and needed a drink. Hopefully they’d take the universal currency they’d be getting for this job so he could try again once they got their first paycheck which should be soon. Until then he had plenty of alcohol aboard the ship, it should last for a few more months at least.

The town turned out to be rather small and lacking in technology. These lizard-aliens hadn’t even figured out space travel yet on their own yet. The most high-tech thing they had were teleporters, not even high-tech ones. They were like two steps above being cavemen.

As suspected all the buildings were made out of the same milky white stone that had made up the sign they’d passed upon entering town. There wasn’t much ornamentation on them, Demo wasn’t even sure which buildings served as housing and which served other functions. He did ask Pyro to have the bar pointed out to them though. He made a point to remember its exterior when that request was granted, hopefully he’d be able to use that information soon.

While they were exploring, Scout asked all sorts of questions. Pyro translated them to their guide and then replied to Scout, moving his hands significantly slower than usual for Scout’s benefit. From there anything Scout didn’t understand Engie or Heavy translated for him. Finding the slow pace of the conversation frustrating, Demo barely paid attention to it. He spent more time chatting with Soldier about various things.

By the time they returned to the car, the moons were rising and the temperature was rapidly dropping. The lizard-aliens had scuttled off to return to their homes. And Spy had rejoined the group, coming in seemingly when no one else was looking as Demo had just turned his head to look at something and Spy was just sort of there again, sneaky bastard.

Previous / Next / First

#Team Fortress 2 #TF2 #My AU #Space AU #Space Mercenaries AU #Demo #Aliens

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thoseflashinggreeneyes · 7 years ago

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Tracking gendered language in Reputation

Any queer person who’s ever spoken carefully about a relationship has played the pronoun game -- you know, the one where you talk about the person you’re seeing while dutifully avoiding revealing their gender. (For prime examples, check out the way Taylor talks about the relationships that inspired “Treacherous” and “Out of the Woods.”)

If you’ve played this game, you know it’s DIFFICULT to talk about a person without using gendered language -- that’s a result of a highly cis-normative culture, shout to trans+ and non-binary folks who have to deal with this bullshit every day. Yet on Reputation, an album widely agreed to be a love album about Taylor’s current relationship, she almost never uses gendered pronouns to discuss her current love. Let’s take a look at the songs and how Taylor extremely deliberately uses (and avoids) gendered pronouns:

...Ready For It?: This song sets up the theme of duality that permeates the album. Taylor uses male pronouns in the verses, which describe her public relationships, in which men are her jailers. The choruses (which feel dreamy, light, and intimate compared with the dark, heavily produced verses) use no gendered pronouns. The video makes this even more clear by aligning the verses with a fake Taylor, whereas the choruses represent authentic Taylor, trapped behind glass, using her voice to break free.

End Game: The only gendered language in the song is, “I don’t wanna miss you like the other girls do.” This could refer to a person of any gender with female ex-lovers.

I Did Something Bad: Here we’re continuing the theme established in the verses of “Ready For It,” where Taylor uses dark sounds and language to explore her public relationships with men.

Don’t Blame Me: Same theme of duality here! She talks about the “older guys” who are “just playthings for me to use,” but when it comes to the lover who drives her to obsession, no gendered language in sight.

Delicate: This is the first song on the record which is widely believed to be about her current relationship, and there’s no gendered language whatsoever to describe that person. The closest we get here is “handsome.” It interests me how often Taylor uses gendered adjectives without pointing to actual genders -- this feels like a reference to a butch/femme dynamic within a same-sex relationship, which we see throughout the album, but especially on later tracks.

Look What You Made Me Do: I think we can all agree this song doesn’t have a lot to do with who Taylor is or isn’t dating!

So It Goes...: A very sexy song with nary a gendered word to be found. This song makes plentiful references to duality and secrecy, hiding in plain sight, etc. I’m interested in the line, “Come here, dressed in black now,” which has a feminine bent. How often do you see men in all black?Seeing women dressed in black is much more common.

Gorgeous: We’ve all seen the widespread analysis on this one -- “gorgeous” is a feminine descriptor, and the only explicitly gendered language refers to Taylor’s current “boyfriend” (original lyric: “I haven’t seen him in a couple of months”) as well as her crush’s potential “girlfriend” (again, this could refer to a straight man or a queer woman).

Getaway Car: Another song where Taylor uses male pronouns to discuss her public relationships in specific detail. No one thinks this song is about the person she’s currently seeing (and, interestingly, the only person she genders here is her ex: “I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason”).

King of My Heart: This is where we see the careful set up of the butch/femme dynamic while also explicitly avoiding gendered language to describe her current relationship. “King” is Taylor’s codeword for her partner (King/Karlie/Klossy, got it), who she compares with “boys” who “never took me quite where you do.” The entire song fits a narrative of two women falling in love, and is peppered with details specific to Taylor’s current relationship.

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: A heartbreaking song about being forced to keep your love secret, with no explicitly gendered language. One interesting point of comparison here: as opposed to the very public “J” necklace referenced later, this song talks about Taylor keeping a picture of her partner’s face in “an invisible locket.” The duality from “Ready For It” is here in spades.

Dress: Another song with a lot of public scrutiny for sounding pretty explicitly feminine with “I don’t want you like a best friend,” no gendered pronouns, etc. The trickiest line here is “your buzz cut and my hair bleached,” which seems to point to the Met gala, but which others have posited could reference Karlie’s buzzed-about new hair cut at 2013 VSFS (edit: @whaler13bg also pointed out the lyric could reference this pic from 2016, thank you!). For me, this is more of a continuation of the butch/femme dynamic, and fits with her partner being “handsome” and a “king.”

This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: Interestingly, there’s exactly one gendered pronoun on Reputation that doesn’t fit with my overall theory of the album, and it’s in this (totally unromantic) song! The casual reference of Taylor’s baby as “he” is, in my opinion, the most annoying use of a gendered pronoun on the album. So why does she do it instead of writing, for example, “Here’s to my baby, isn’t hearing what they call me lately”? I think the reason is sonic: the sounds in bay-bee are reversed in he-ain’t, and the rhyme structure sounds really good. It’s such a throwaway moment in such a joke-y song that I feel comfortable writing it off, but it does stick in my craw.

Call It What You Want: Here it is, the love song that couldn’t be any more explicitly about a man, right? Wellllllll, not quite!! For one, many have noted that some of the lines (“trust him like a brother,” for example) just don’t sound like the way you would write about a straight relationship. More tellingly, though, the song explicitly tells you to ignore the way it uses language. The title, “Call it what you want,” is repeated throughout the song, giving the listener direct instructions to disregard the different words used to describe this relationship, because they don’t reveal the truth of these two people in love. (Side note: so romantic.) The fact that “call it” is aurally indistinguishable from “Karlie” for much of the song and a female background singer singing “I’m the one she’s walking to” (emphasis mine) serve to reinforce the narrative that there’s much more to this seemingly hetero song than meets the eye.

New Year’s Day: The final track of the album is also the most romantic, intimate, and stripped-bare sonically -- and there’s nothing male about it. The only gendered language we get here is “girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby,” which could refer to party guests departing -- or to two women coming home.

In doing a close reading of these songs, it’s actually shocking to me how little “no homo” there is on this entire album. Besides the one throwaway reference on TIWWCHNT, the only song that explicitly names Taylor’s current partner as male also explicitly tells us to disregard that language. Otherwise, the only men referenced on Reputation are jailers, narcissists, playthings for her to use, and boys who don’t compare to her current partner. Taken as a whole, it’s actually amazing how far out of its way this album goes not to gender anyone about whom Taylor has positive/romantic feelings. This round of the pronoun game is complete, and we definitely have a winner.

#gaylor swift #Kaylor

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sidncymiller · 7 years ago

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ayyyyyy friends it’s ya boi back at it again with another caustic, indifferent fuck ( ive got a type sue me ) but this ones like... a little less (ง'̀-'́)ง and a little more ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ya feel ?? anyway this is gonna be quick & dirty cause i dont have the bio done yet but theres some basic stats here if ur freaky like that. also she’s more into like.... people as a whole than mal is so ( as much as i love fighting everyone ) i’d love to make some connections w the charas he doesnt interact with or is a cock to !! lol ok i’ll catch y’all under the cut pce out

she’ll answer to sidney but prefers sid (or miller if you’re one of those)

demigirl, she/her pronouns and “girl” as a descriptor are fine, but for the love of god don’t call her a Woman it makes her skin crawl

pansexual but mostly a big tease who cant Seal the Deal, possibly on the ace spectrum somewhere or maybe she just watches too much porn who knows these days

as you may have inferred from her multitude of maybe-kinda-sorta labels she is a Child Of The Internet

bad case of blue and orange morality, thanks to being born and raised right here in sunny fictumterra!! she values privacy, loyalty and free will pretty high, human life and welfare pretty low, like a good fictumterran (fictumite?)

then again she does get pretty bummed out if someone new comes to town and she Digs them and then they get turned into a lamp or hot dog or whatever,,,, weak,,,,

uh she was into gymnastics as a kid and joined the cheer squad in hs just because it seemed like exactly the thing she Wouldnt do and she’s a big ‘ol contrarian

unfortunately!!! she went partially blind in her right eye when she was sixteen and her parents poisoned her and all that time spent practicing balance and spatial aawreness and shit went right out the fckn window THANKS MOM

ok backtracking a litte

her parents were members of a pro-gun, anti-government cult before she was born and got caught up in a teensy little federal building bombing and had to hightail it to FT when one of their compatriots ( fckn coward ) flipped on the group, under the advisement of their Supreme Leader

lets call him Shmavid Shmoresh

he told them to await further instructions, so they set up shop in FT and waited. since they were natural born sheeple, they acclimated to the way of life pretty quickly, and when sid was born she was brought up under the town’s value system, and now im repeating myself

ANYWAY they didn’t hear from the group until sixteen years later when Shmavid was about to be executed and announced that it was time for everyone to Ascend or whatever

so, good followers they were, they made their evening tea and laced it w rat poison and waited for the sweet chariot to swing low

unfortunately they fucked up on sid’s dosage and she survived, though, as mentioned, the poison did fuck with her cortical vision, as well as giving her an exceptionally sensitive stomach

basically she can’t eat too much or anything too rich or spicy bc her stomach linings all fucked, lots of broths and and rice and stuff, everything else comes back up, ya girl got v skinny and has mixed feelings bout that

uhhhh shes like constantly eating sugar tho, usually bubble gum, sometimes suckers or slushies. shes not supposed to but it doesnt make her puke and if she doesn’t see an immediate consequence she doesnt care ALSO she doesnt appreciate your oral fixation jokes i mean youre probably right but get some new material ok

also she still drives??? she refuses to accept that shes blind (ish, too blind to drive, ever heard of anton-babinski syndrome?) and regularly scratches or dents other peoples cars and leaves a note that says like ‘oops’ on their windshield or whatever, she loves driving you cant take it from her get fucked

her own car is a pinto thats so dinged up its basically round at this point

when her parents died there was some contention as to where she was gonna live when she got out of the hospital (not like anyone was gonna call state-run social services) so she ended up being temporarily placed in a pink flamingo room and is..... still there.....

at this point its her place she brought in her own bedding and taped pictures to the wall and installed like 40 locks on the door ok TRY to get her to leave

she works at food world to pay the (internet) bills, but her REAL job (as far as shes concerned) is running her blog ‘memoirs from murderville’ (she was a teen when she named it ok she KNOWS its dumb but she cant change it now cause fckn #branding. trust her, she hates it more than you do)

its essentially a diary that she writes under the name jim sheldon (an homage to the badass author alice sheldon, who wrote under the pseudonym james tiptree jr) about her life and daily experiences in FT with all the names and relevant details and such changed

it started as a stupid joke (and a way for her to disassociate!!! holla) when she was in high school, but then it got a shout-out on some true crime podcast, and then it was in some buzzfeed article, and shit spiraled out from there

everyone assumes its an elaborate piece of fiction and its lauded in certain communities for it’s ‘brutal authenticity’ and ‘delightfully irreverent narrator’ and ‘creative spin on unsolved crime’ and ‘disturbing satire of millennial detachment in the media age’

lol academics are so weird amirite

anyway because of her commitment to the blog she makes it a priority to get to know as many residents and visitors as she can, looking for the best content and recurring characters

shes kind of a dick and definitely a shit head but she really, genuinely does care about people’s stories (even if she doesn’t care much about most people themselves)

is she a killer??? no. well, maybe. she could be persuaded, probably. for the experience. maybe she’d like it who knows not me

does she have a death wish??? no. well, maybe. a little bit. she certainly values a good story more than she does her own dumb mortality. if it comes down to boring or dead, she’d pick dead :)

ok this got a lot longer than i thought !!! soml !!! if you read all this stream of consciousness nonsense ur an angel thank you !!!

as far as connections and such i would LOVE unknowing subjects/recurring characters in her blog, knowing subjects of her blog who love the attention, friends??? (what a concept lol), OH someone who deeply disapproves of the blog and finds it trivializing??? dangerous??? idk whatever theres lots of reasons to hate it??? maybe they wanna take it down???, LONG TIME RESIDENTS WHOVE KNOWN HER SINCE SHE WAS A KID, maybe someone who took up a parental mantle after her parents fucked off to the great gig in the sky??, uh maybe an ex or ex-friend who was disconcerted by her constant need for action and danger and bailed OR the opposite, one who pushed her a little too far and she had to bail??

idk man the possibilities are endless hmu love yall

#crimetown.intro #tw hanging #tw asphyxiation #tw suicide #tw murder #tw bombing #tw poison #i think thats all of it???#damn seth calm tf down

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eleanor-writes-stuff · 7 years ago

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Ben catches feelings and decides to take things to the next level with his long-time roommate, close friend, and occasional hook-up. Rey, ever the more sensible half of the duo, decides that they should make sure a relationship between them won’t be a total disaster first.

What they need is a trial run.

Featuring: awkward run-ins with a family member, even more awkward holidays with the whole family, and fluff. So much fluff. All the fluff.

And now, another installment of I HOPE YOU HAVE DENTAL BECAUSE THIS IS TOOTH-ROTTING STUFF, featuring frisky cuddles and a teeny-tiny bit of backstory.

Part I | Part II Also available on AO3.

On Monday, Rey wakes up for the second time that morning to find Ben trailing kisses along her bare shoulder while one hand dips just below the waistband of her shorts. It’s certainly a lot more subtle than the way he’d woken her up the first time, his groin pressed tellingly against her back, but there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s angling for a second round.

Quick as lightning, she catches his hand and pulls it back up to her waist. “Ben, the whole point of this week is to get out and do couple-y things, not stay in bed all day,” Rey reminds him with a sigh.

“Staying in bed all day sounds pretty couple-y to me,” Ben retorts, but he backs off nevertheless and doesn’t move his hand from her waist as Rey turns to face him.

“Ben.” The glare she throws him is half-hearted at best, but it does the job.

“All right, all right,” he relents, ducking down to press an apologetic kiss to her scowl. “What do you want to do today?”

She turns around in his arms and comes to rest on her back, watching as he props himself up with a hand under his jaw. “We could go have lunch somewhere,” Rey suggests after a moment’s thought. What little sunlight there is falls directly on Ben, bathing him in a soft glow as he smiles at her and brings his other hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Like a date?” he asks quietly, and Rey can’t put the look in his eyes into words but she’s pretty sure it’s mirrored in her own. A date. With Ben. Because that’s a thing couples do and they can do that now.

“Like a date,” she echoes, surging up to kiss him. Her sudden movement takes Ben by surprise and knocks him down, so that when Rey finally breaks the kiss their positions have been reversed. The change allows her to rest her head on his chest and listen to the hummingbird flutter of Ben’s heartbeat, to the effect she has on him, to the way she makes him feel.

Rey hopes that never changes.

“Come on,” Ben groans once he’s caught his breath, reluctantly drawing the both of them upright. “Let’s get out of this bed before I change my mind.”

They end up agreeing on the café Finn sometimes picks up the occasional shift at, knowing that none of the holiday staff will recognize them.

And even if they do run into familiar, gossipy faces, it probably won’t matter because Rey is increasingly sure that she and Ben will have some big news to share with the guys as soon as they get back from Poe’s home. It’s probably too early to tell – it is too early to tell – and she doesn’t want to jinx anything, but after barely three days together she can’t see herself ever giving up on Ben. On them.

Still, knowing in her very bones that she wants to be with him isn’t the same as telling him so just days into their relationship, which leaves them in a bit of a tight spot when they start discussing Luke’s invitation and potentially accepting it.

“I mean,” Ben shrugs, pushing his plate closer to her as she steals yet another fry. “It’s not like Luke invited you as my girlfriend, right?” It’s wishful thinking, especially given the twinkle in Luke’s eye when he’d stumbled upon them together, but they can live in denial for at least another day. “He probably invited you because… well, you’re a Kenobi. I think there’s a law against running into a Kenobi during the holiday season and not inviting them to the Organa-Skywalker family Christmas.”

Ben tactfully does not mention the fact that she’s the only Kenobi left to run into, that the reason she’s never been invited to spend Christmas with his family before is because the first time she was supposed to tag along with her grandfather, Ben Kenobi passed just two days before they were due to leave for Alderaan.

“What’s it like?” Rey asks, pushing the last of her pancakes towards Ben in return for the fries. “Christmas with your family, I mean. But also Alderaan in general – I’ve never been.”

“It’s… beautiful,” he tells her, eyes glazed over with a lifetime’s worth of memories. “After what Palpatine did to the state during his presidency, everyone pretty much thought Alderaan was done for. All of the jobs were gone, and he slashed funding across the board – education, security, even parks and rec. Things fell into disrepair, schools started falling behind, and soon people were forced to either move away or risk bankruptcy and starvation. By the time my mom ran for Senator, the voter turnout was 37% - the lowest in national history.”

Rey remembers that, remembers following with interest as Leia Organa took up a lost cause and worked tirelessly to champion it, to restore her home to its former glory. Something about Leia’s frequent speeches on the importance of home had tugged at her tiny orphan heart, had pushed her to find a home of her own. But she’s never heard Ben’s side of the story before, never seen the way his lips twitch with pride as he speaks of his mother’s legacy, and so she listens.

“I was six the first time she ran. The night she won…” Ben’s entire face lights up; she can count on one hand the number of times she’s seen him like this. “I don’t think I’d ever seen her that happy. I barely ever saw her during those first few years, but it was worth it just to see the look on her face every time she took me for a drive and pointed out all the changes she’d implemented, all the things she’d fixed. It was harder after that, once all the little things were repaired and she had to tackle the big things, like figuring out a new economy for the state. It was entirely by accident that Alderaan ended up becoming a tourist hotspot, did you know that?” he asks with a grin – boyish, Rey would call it if pressed for a descriptor, even though she’s never associated the word with Ben before. “My mom just kept fixing things up whenever she got frustrated with the Senate, and eventually Alderaan became as beautiful as it used to be and people started flocking there all year round to see the state.”

“They say it’s the most beautiful state in the country,” Rey says, a dozen tourism brochures and ads coming to mind.

Ben smiles and reaches for her hand. “It really is,” he tells her, lacing their fingers together. “You’re going to love it, Rey. And if it’s my family you’re worried about… don’t be. It’s like a rule or something that everyone in this family either loves you by virtue of being a Kenobi or simply for being you.”

Rey smirks. “Everyone, huh?”

The smirk slides off her face when Ben simply brings their joined hands up to his lips and kisses her hand. He doesn’t say a word, just looks her in the eye as his lips brush along her knuckles, and Rey has never been this flustered and giddy and taken aback in her life.

“So,” Ben murmurs, letting their hands fall back to the table. “How do you feel about spending Christmas with my family?”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rey registers the fact that Ben didn’t really answer her first question at all – she has no idea what she’s signing up for, what Christmas with his family will be like. “If we can get through this,” she finds herself saying anyway, “it’ll pretty much be a given that we can get through anything, right?”

Ben nods, doing his best to school his features into a serious expression. “It’s the ultimate new relationship test.”

She wants that, wants the security of knowing that she and Ben have covered as many of their bases as possible before they fully commit to this. If that means spending Christmas with his family just three days into their relationship and opening herself up to days of scrutiny and interrogation, then so be it.

And the way Ben speaks of Alderaan… there’s no way she’s passing up an opportunity to let him share this with her, to let him introduce her to this place that obviously means so much to him.

“Okay then,” Rey decides, banishing her doubts and fear and worst-case scenarios to the back of her mind. “Let’s spend Christmas with your family.”

Rey has no idea how they went from “tell no one” to “introduce me to your family as your girlfriend” in so short a span of time, but things with Ben have always had a habit of spiraling out of control anyway.

So far, she thinks as Ben happily calls his mother to let her know they’ll be attending after all, his hand still in hers, that’s worked out just fine.

This chapter really got away from me. I'm sorry it's more Alderaan backstory than Reylo fluff, but your teeth will probably thank you for a break from all the tooth-rotting sweetness anyway.

Again, thank you all for reading and thank you so much for your encouraging comments. It’s been a ridiculously long day for me and I nearly didn't update, but reading your comments gave me the push I needed to get this done. As always, feel free to share any thoughts/comments/reactions below; I'm always happy to hear from you guys.

Next up: some domesticity and... what's this? A pet name?? Tune in tomorrow for your regularly-scheduled cavities.

#reylo #kylo ren x rey #kylo x rey #ben solo x rey #ben x rey #modern au #star wars #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #fic: sign up now for a free trial #my fics

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garrisonabel93 · 4 years ago

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How To Save My Marriage During Separation Dumbfounding Cool Tips

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How To Save A 35 Year Marriage

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Save Marriage 50/50

In order to come up with the right approach then you are a husband, you need to address the problem was, but that action also needs to be your first date with a mortgage or other purposes by the high number of strategies.Reconsider your marriage will end-up a statistic.Maybe it's that you have a broken marriage.Failure to do something to look at your partners faults, it will be released which will improve the chances of success.There are many ways to solve all the time.

Families are grappling with similar challenges in marriage to be very upsetting watching it fall apart.Contempt and suspicion will prevail as long as you are just 4 tips which you can get back with your partner be defensive and a whole two months.Is there anything that is selling outside.This constant focus on mending your current relationship with your ex a note.Saving a marriage is the payment options which differs from counselor to get away for a healthy marriage.

#How To Save My Marriage During Separation Dumbfounding Cool Tips #Save Marriage While Separated Shoul

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nayleaharvez97 · 4 years ago

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How To Avoid Paying Child Support In A Divorce Stunning Useful Tips

This isn't usually information you will be more successful in the nucleus family is essential, but at least at the first method in making things work while the others try to save your marriage today?You must also be used to each other how your spouse and family.If you cannot find one good way to rescue their failing marriages.Even when you are trying to save marriage.

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There are several great ways to rebuild and strengthen that bond.After the romantic and quiet meal together.After all, many couples prefer going to get it right, making our marriage from divorce?Sooner or later, he will realize you can definitely make your marriage today, you'll create an atmosphere of growth.Expect to have a rational conversation to happen in life.

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How To Save Marriage After Husband Cheats

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Top 10 Ways To Save A Marriage

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Remember that you need to be highly regarded.This usually happens because of your mind.Don't say it if they do that to happen for a date, just because.Be sure that you should learn to listen when he or she will not be the answer.Tips #1 - Identify the point of turning back.

#How To Avoid Paying Child Support In A Divorce Stunning Useful Tips #How To Save Your Marriage Alone

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feynites · 8 years ago

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More dirthalene band/concert AU! I finally got this bit done! <3 Tagging @selenelavellan.

In the end, it is Dirthamen’s father who makes the most fuss about wanting to meet Selene and Des.

Mythal has less of an interest than Dirthamen expected, but, then again, she seems somewhat preoccupied with the actions of his siblings anyway. And inclined to just think of the pair as a sort of extension of Fear and Deceit’s existing influence over him. Which is inaccurate, but Dirthamen does not go to any great pains to correct her misconception, this time.

His father, on the other hand, is more interested in the introduction of new people to Dirthamen’s personal life.

“Are they fertile?” he asks Dirthamen, over the phone.

Dirthamen blinks, suddenly caught up by the mental image of plants in bloom, and the memory of the time when his father bred mabari hounds. A short-lived experience; mabari never seemed inclined to bond to Elgar’nan, much to his disappointment.

“I have not asked,” Dirthamen admits.

His father hmph’s at him.

“But are two of you at least reproductively compatible now?” he checks. “You must be. And your mother says you have moved into a house. I looked you up. You are in a good school district. Bring them over! I would like to meet them, and speak with them.”

“I will see,” Dirthamen allows, somewhat unnerved that his father has his address.

Elgar’nan continues to press the matter over the course of several weeks, insisting that he is pleased that Dirthamen is ‘finally settling down’, and apparently this is ‘despite all that business with the noise-making you call music’. Falon’Din set a bad precedent for musical careers during their youth, in the midst of his own misguided attempt to start a band. The endeavour had not fared well, and he had been very incensed with Dirthamen’s own better success at it.

It had not been his intention to show his brother up.

It may have been Fear and Deceit’s, though.

At length Dirthamen broaches the subject with the two of them, first. Mostly seeing if they have any ideas on how he may continue to avoid introducing Des and Selene to his family. But Fear can only offer the usual suggestions that Dirthamen cut ties entirely, and while Deceit has several ideas, they all seem to involve paying people to pretend to be Selene and Des.

Which Dirthamen and Fear both agree seems liable to backfire, in the long run.

Finally, then, Dirthamen approaches the actual persons most relevant to the matter – Des and Selene themselves – with his father’s insistent invitations to a family dinner.

“Will your brother be there?” Selene asks.

“Possibly,” Dirthamen admits. “It is unlikely my father will invite him, but my mother may. Even if she does, though, whether or not he will agree to attend, or then actually attend, is difficult to predict.” Of late, his brother has been chasing after his ‘latest crush’, as his mother phrases it. But the pursuit has not been going well. Knowing Falon’Din, Dirthamen expects this to mean tantrums and reckless expenditures and possible issues with the police.

Selene accepts his answer, promising to give it some thought.

Des takes less time to decide.

“I’ll go,” he agrees, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “I want to meet your rich, evil family. I keep picturing them like the kind on soap operas, and I want to see how the image holds up. Does your house have one of those gigantic chandeliers that could feasibly fall from the roof and murder someone?”

Dirthamen inclines his head.

“One does,” he confirms. “But we will be going to my father’s city apartment. It is the one he uses for work, mostly.”

“Is it a fancy apartment?” Des asks.

“Yes.”

Selene’s brow furrows, a little.

“Formal wear?” she wonders.

“No. My father prefers that everyone wears sweaters for family dinners, unless it is a special occasion,” he assures her. Other casual clothing would also be acceptable, particularly for newcomers – Ghilan’nain had worn a denim dress for her introductory dinner, as Dirthamen recalls, and no one had objected to it – but once he makes that statement, Des seems absolutely determined to find the ‘perfect’ sweater for the occasion.

Selene does not so much agree to go, in the end, as decline to refute Des’ subsequent assumptions that she will. So Dirthamen takes her aside, in the evening, and makes certain that she is comfortable with the idea.

“What’s your father like?” she asks him. “Usually I hear about your mother, and your… brother.”

“Elgar’nan is loud,” Dirthamen offers, a little awkwardly. His father is a difficult man to describe. Possibly only for Dirthamen, though. Others never seem to lack for sufficient descriptors. “I do not understand him very well. He is tactile, and easily angered, and sometimes I think he is stubborn, but at other times he is very contradictory to his own stated principles. But he is not a bad person. He is kind to children and he dislikes criminals.”

Selene winces, just a little. And then she raises an eyebrow.

“He dislikes criminals, but your family business…?” she checks.

“Is entangled in many illegal enterprises. Yes,” Dirthamen confirms. “My father primarily dislikes the concept of criminals. I think. As I said, he can be contradictory, and I do not understand him very well.”

“Huh,” Selene replies.

“If you do not wish to go, I will handle the matter,” he assures her. “But if you do attend the dinner, it will likely satisfy at least some of his curiosity about you. He may ask awkward questions. However, I have found that he tends to answer most of these himself, if one simply keeps quiet and lets him continue talking. This can lead to misassumptions on his part, but I can deal with the repercussions of that.”

Selene does not look terribly reassured.

“And what would those be?” she wonders.

Dirthamen blinks, and assesses.

“The most severe case would be his disowning me,” he muses. “Which would cut me off from my family’s funds and all further access to them. My mother would likely intervene to stop that, however. It would make it much more difficult for her to conscript my help with the company if I was persona non grata. My father has attempted to disown my brother before, but has never actually gone through with it. Otherwise, it is most likely he will reduce my access to family funds, and yell. Those are both manageable.”

Selene looks displeased.

“I’ll go,” she decides. “But if you think I’m doing something wrong, I’d rather you just told me than got into trouble for it. I can play nice. So can Des, for that matter. He’s actually much better at it, in fact, when he needs to be.”

Dirthamen inclines his head gratefully.

“I will do my best to forewarn you. Though, usually I only know that my father is angry at me when he tells me so,” he admits.

Selene sighs. She does not seem to relish the coming meeting. Before he can reassure her of its optional nature, however, she reaches over, and brushes a stray lock of hair out of his face.

“I’ve never heard you yell,” she muses. Her tone is contemplative, but also gentle.

“I dislike it,” he admits.

She nods, accepting, and looks as if she might say something further. But in the end she does not, and when Dirthamen asks if she would like to stay with him tonight, she agrees, and follows him to his room. In bed she wraps herself around him, head to his chest as she lets him run his fingers through her hair, and reads some science news articles along with him on his phone. Most of the studies, they agree, have very misleading articles when compared to the research.

The next morning, Deceit confiscates Selene to go ‘sweater hunting’. Deceit decides to join in as well. Fear already owns suitable clothing, and so declines. Dirthamen gets several texts throughout the morning of the three of them in various sweaters, and finds himself wondering what stores they have found when Des sends him several images of himself in a crop-top purple sweater with the words ‘daddy knows best’ written across the front. It does not seem like a very fatherly article of clothing.

He recommends against that purchase. Selene assures him that Des is only joking, and none of the subsequent sweater selections seem as bizarre.

The three of them eventually come home with an emerald green sweater for Deceit, and a very nice, very soft one with wings on it for Selene, and a sparkly red and purple one for Des, with a plunging ‘v’-shaped neckline. It is very tight, for a sweater. Dirthamen worries that Des has gotten the wrong size, but he is confident that it will fit him ‘just fine’, and when he puts it on, it does look very nice. If atypical of most sweater aesthetics.

Dirthamen procures a bottle of wine for them to bring, and Fear drives as they make their way downtown, to the gleaming building where his father’s apartment is located. They make it past lobby security without incident, and up to the penthouse floor, to find that they are the first of the guests to arrive – apart from Dirthamen’s parents, of course. Mythal embraces him, and subjects Des and Selene to cursory assessments, before his father comes to greet them.

“Dirthamen! You look pale,” he declares. He is wearing his red sweater, with his alma mater on the front, and his hair tied back. Dirthamen extends the bottle of wine towards him, and his father takes it, and tsk’s at the label. “White wine?”

“You said we were having chicken,” Dirthamen explains.

“Bah, such rules are nonsense. You should have brought something with more kick,” his father informs him. “I’d think you would know these things by now. But who came here for drinks anyway? Your mother can put it with some of her bottles, she has delicate tastes! And it suits her! Now, introduce me to your lovers! Which one is the most fertile?”

Selene double-takes, and Des blinks rapidly a few times.

Dirthamen clears his throat.

“I do not know the answer to that. This is Selene. She makes textbooks, and is wonderful. This is Des. He makes people happy.”

Mythal raises an eyebrow at Des, for some reason, while Elgar’nan reaches over and treats both of them to his usual handshake and clasped forearm. It is an awkward start, Dirthamen thinks. But not disastrous. Fear and Deceit keep close, and mostly quiet; and neither of his parents seem overly inclined to speak to them anyway. They end up looming behind the rest of their group, accustomed to some of the strangeness, and prepared for some of the potential fallout of this evening.

It is oddly comforting.

Elgar’nan has several paid cooks working in the apartment’s expansive kitchen. Selene stares uncertainly at the spiral staircase in the front entryway, and the carved columns around it, and the broad windows that overlook the sparkling lights of the city. His father has changed the décor, Dirthamen notes. There is a new multicoloured glass fireplace in the dining room, and a nude fountain in the main sitting room. A drake’s head is mounted on one of the sitting room walls. Likely one of Andruil’s latest trophies. The scales have been polished to a rainbow shine.

“This feels like the kind of apartment that belongs to a billionaire who gets bored with their own decadence and starts hunting people for sport,” Des muses quietly, after Dirthamen’s parents both leave – Mythal to put the wine away, ostensibly, but most likely to make phone calls, and Elgar’nan to check on the dinner preparations.

Dirthamen can hear him bellowing faintly from the kitchen, though the content of his bellows is impossible to decipher.

“Kind of. Andruil’s apartment has a lot more dead things on the walls, but it’s very similar,” Deceit agrees.

Selene looks concerned.

Andruil often seems to provoke concern from people. Dirthamen gives the others a comprehensive tour of the apartment’s available public spaces, and before that is done, Andruil and Ghilan’nain arrive. And then June and Sylaise come, fashionably late, to Dirthamen’s surprise. Not over their lateness, but over their arrival at all. Sylaise greets their mother coolly, and then embraces their father with a smile.

June looks uncomfortable.

He usually does.

“DINNER IS READY!” Elgar’nan booms, clapping his hands together. Fear jumps, just slightly, at the sound. So do the flames in the fireplace.

“Is Falon’Din not coming?” Ghilan’nain asks, in a tone of voice that is neutral, yet somehow still manages to convey her long-standing desire to cut off Falon’Din’s head. Which is not a secret, but also not a particularly unique reaction to Dirthamen’s twin.

“Bah!” Elgar’nan declares. “Dinner is at six o’clock. It is six o’clock. If he comes then he will have to deal with cold leftovers. And be thankful for that much!”

No one has any particular protest. Mythal looks sadly at Dirthamen, but the moment passes, and his guilt is distracted somewhat when Selene laces her fingers through his own.

As they make their way to the dining room, Sylaise and June fall into step with them.

Sylaise eyes them each in turn.

“You’re building quite the collection, I see,” she notes, at length.

“We are partners,” Dirthamen corrects. “I do not collect people.”

“Of course, of course,” his sister agrees. “Vices run in the family, but let’s not assume rampant polyamory to be one of yours. I’m not judging. June and I often bring a friend or two into our own bed. Livens things up.” She eyes Selene rather admiringly on this note.

Dirthamen angles his way between them. It is not something he consciously decides to do, and it seems to amuse his sister more than anything.

“No talk of sex at the dinner table!” Elgar’nan booms. “Unless it is to speak of family planning. Are you pregnant yet, Sylaise? Or is June too impotent to manage even that much? Perhaps you should consider adoption. There are many orphanages in the city, and I know people who could help expedite the process.”

June bristles, but Sylaise only hums.

“I would rather let it happen when it happens, father,” she says. “Simply go off birth control and see where it takes us.”

Mythal raises an eyebrow at her.

“And tell me, child, have you gone off of your birth control?” she asks.

Sylaise meets her stare, and smiles at her.

It is not a friendly sort of smile.

“June’s parents are also eager for grandchildren,” she says, rather than answering the question. “He has a rather extensive family. Did you know that, Dirthamen? I suppose you met them at my wedding, didn’t you?”

“I did,” he agrees.

The small talk carries on as they finally settle in around the table. Elgar’nan declares that he wants to sit near Des and Selene, to get to know them. Des takes the chair next to him, before Dirthamen can make any effort to protest, but he seems relatively confident in the choice. Mythal sits on Elgar’nan’s other side, with Andruil next to her. Selene ends up between Des and Dirthamen, and Fear and Deceit provide a buffer between Dirthamen and the empty end of the table.

“Selene and I are very eager for children of our own,” Des declares, as Dirthamen is in the midst of examining his plate.

He pauses.

Everyone else seems to require a moment to process that, too. Everyone except Des, who cheerfully barrels on.

“Selene loves children. Just, absolutely loves them. And I have always dreamed of being a stay-at-home parent. There’s nothing more fulfilling than the idea of having little ones running around, brightening the world with their sunny smiles and joy-filled laughter,” he says.

Dirthamen had not known that about Des’ life ambitions.

He glances at Selene, who looks like she just swallowed her own tongue. Deceit’s gaze flits across the table, as if searching for an escape route; and Fear looks to be seriously contemplating getting back up out of their chair, and dragging Des away from the table. And then possibly out of the apartment, down to the street, and into the car.

Dirthamen does not think Fear would abandon the rest of them, though. So probably Des would have to sit in the car by himself until dinner was over.

Elgar’nan, though, is beaming.

“Oh, that is good news!” he declares. “Can you bear children? Can Selene? Adoption may be simpler, but pregnancy has its own joys. And any child of Dirthamen’s would be entitled to inherit a percentage of the company, of course! Even if he is disowned, his children will be my grandchildren, and will have a stake in the family’s fortunes!”

Which is precisely why Dirthamen has always hesitated to consider reproduction.

Des chuckles.

“Well, we’re still sorting our future out,” he admits. “But I’d love to hear your thoughts on childrearing. And of course, any stories you have about your own children would be fascinating, too.”

Mythal actually looks visibly irritated, as Dirthamen’s father then eagerly launches into one of his speeches on parenthood. The food on his plate starts to go cold as he veers off onto his favourite old family stories, in turn. The Time Sylaise Covered Herself in Mashed Potatoes, the Time Andruil Killed a Spider and Brought it To Show Him, the Time Dirthamen Built a Snowman to Be His Friend, the Time Falon’Din Refused to Get Out of the Bouncy Castle, and other such classics come to a notable end before any of Elgar’nan’s children reached their teenage years.

They are onto the stories of when Sylaise was four and refused to wear clothes – which seem to amuse Ghilan’nain, and annoy Sylaise – when the doorbell rings.

One of the servants goes to answer it. Dirthamen is already bracing himself, knowing the likeliest explanation, when his brother walks into the dining room.

Falon’Din does not look unwell, at least. He is dressed in black jeans and a fitted t-shirt, with his owl-wing tattoos clearly visible on his arms, and his hair grown out to his shoulders. There are some dark circles under his eyes, some heavy, skull-shaped rings on his fingers, and a dragon tooth necklace resting on his chest.

He scans the dinner table. Narrowing his eyes at Fear and Deceit, curling his lip at Dirthamen, and fully glaring by the time he gets to Selene and Des.

“I thought this was a family dinner,” he says. “Not ‘bring-your-own-whores’ night.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Ghilan’nain drawls, without missing a beat, before she takes a long drink from her glass. She does not look up, not even when Falon’Din moves towards her chair, and Andruil stands up from her own.

Before Dirthamen can consider reacting of his own accord, however, Elgar’nan bellows.

“LANGUAGE!” he booms. “This is a family dinner, how dare you! Profanities are to be left at the door, that has been the rule for as long as you have lived, and I will not have you disrespect it!”

Mythal rests a hand against his arm, and some of his ire deflates.

“Now, now,” she says, turning cool eyes over Ghilan’nain, before finally resting her gaze on her eldest son. “Falon’Din, please. Come and sit, and mind your manners. I am so very happy you came. It has been a long time since we had all the family in one place.”

Falon’Din glares at Fear for a moment, before turning his gaze over to Selene, instead. Dirthamen realizes, at once, that his brother has noted the lack of empty seats beside him. There is a very high chance of him saying something extremely detrimental in order to try and obtain one.

He stands.

“I will sit at the end with you, brother,” he invites, before that can happen.

Falon’Din likes sitting at the end of the table. He can more easily convince himself he is sitting at the head of the table, from there.

His brother lets out a breath, but seems momentarily mollified.

“Bring the leggy blonde, if you like,” he offers. “She’s prettier than most of your wh… I’m sorry, escorts.”

“No. Selene is getting to know Elgar’nan,” Fear says, and stands up, too, before moving swiftly the last free chair, on Falon’Din’s other side.

Fortunately, the dining room table is long.

Dirthamen sits on Falon’Din’s other side, and Mythal gets Elgar’nan back into his own seat. Andruil slides in next to her wife again, of her own accord, and Falon’Din sneers at Fear, while Dirthamen finds himself wishing that they had stayed seated next to Deceit, instead. It would be safer that way. Falon’Din has never forgiven Fear for breaking his nose at the hospital.

And Fear has never forgiven Falon’Din for leaving Dirthamen in the woods.

The atmosphere at the table is awkward.

After a few minutes, though, Elgar’nan launches back into his recitations. And Dirthamen holds out hope that things might not go so badly. Falon’Din eats, some, and glares a considerable amount. His mood is not its best. There is an edge to him, although what has provoked it, Dirthamen does not know. But he can tell it is only a matter of time, when his brother opens his mouth to protest the inanity of the conversation.

“Childhood is just eighteen years during which people are small, weak, and illegal to bone,” he snaps.

Des breaks it by tutting.

“Well you’re not going to be allowed to visit our children unsupervised, I can already tell,” he declares.

Falon’Din pales, and his head whips to the side to glare at Dirthamen.

“You knocked someone up?!” he demands. “You fucking-”

“Des is speaking hypothetically,” Dirthamen hastily clarifies.

Falon’Din’s gaze narrows, and he looks at Selene again.

“Is it her?” he demands, before jabbing a dismissive thumb towards Fear. “I know it’s not this frigid cunt-“

“LANGUAGE!” Elgar’nan bellows again, slamming his hands down on the table hard enough to knock over the salad bowl.

“Falon’Din-“ Mythal begins, as Sylaise and June both start taking long drinks from their glasses. Selene freezes up, and Des’ eyes narrow, and Deceit looks to be counting slowly backwards from ten. In his head, at least.

“No, the-” Dirthamen also begins.

He is not expecting his brother to hit him.

He does not know why he is not expecting it. His eyes are furious. Usually Falon’Din does not strike him in front of so many witnesses, but if he is angry enough, he will. And the concept of Dirthamen having children, getting married, moving away – these things have always angered him. Always betrayed him, because when they were younger Dirthamen promised to never abandon him, to never put anyone else before him.

But that was before Falon’Din left him in the woods.

Before he didn’t come back. And Dirthamen had to walk, and walk, and find help. Imagining two ravens winging off of the road to his rescue. Dark wings and wool blankets, and tinny music playing from cheap headphones, as they drove down the long road back to civilization. Even then, though. Even then, Dirthamen had been waiting for his brother to show up, to come back, and find him.

Falon’Din had shown up at the hospital. Drunk and unimpressed.

Dirthamen knew he had gotten distracted. Forgotten about him. It was not… entirely a betrayal.

But it felt like one.

It was the first step, for Dirthamen’s own part. To becoming a traitor. To stepping back, and breaking old promises made when they were both young. He had not thought breaking them would make him so much happier. The bite of guilt always seemed to come with a greater rush of relief, though. Not always right away. But eventually.

Falon’Din’s fist lands on his face, and Fear yanks him backwards as Dirthamen, surprised, slants away from the blow. Deceit catches his arm.

It is not so painful a blow, in the end. More reprimand than assault, by Falon’Din’s standards, but Dirthamen does not like that Selene and Des saw it. He does not like that anyone saw it, but Selene and Des, at least, had not seen it before.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” Sylaise mutters softly, against her glass.

“Get your hands off of me!” Falon’Din protests, trying to snatch his arm away from Fear. “He’s my brother, not yours, not any of yours. You’re just some fucking leech that latched onto the first rich lackwit you could find, but you can’t even keep him all to yourself, hey? Guess even my clueless brother prefers a warm toy to fuck at night-“

That is when Des gets onto the table.

Elgar’nan swallows his next bellow in surprise. Des claps his hands together.

“So!” he says. “Not to interrupt, but no one else seems to have noticed that the curtains are on fire. Looks like magic – I’m guessing a fireplace glitch – so I’d recommend we all proceed out of the dining room in an orderly fashion. Maybe two by two?”

Dirthamen blinks, and looks, and sees that, indeed, the curtains around the dining room window are on fire. They are perilously close to Selene, who seems more focused on glaring at Falon’Din; but when Des hops back down off of the table, he takes her by the arm.

Elgar’nan waves at him, though.

“Not to worry. Such things are my purview,” he announces, and attempts to dispel the flames.

They double in size.

“…Ah,” he manages.

It is rare for Dirthamen to see him caught so badly wrong-footed.

He finds he almost enjoys the moment, strangely enough.

“Yeah… so… two by two?” Des reiterates, as a fire alarm closer to the kitchen begins to shriek. There is the clatter of seats scraping across the floor, then, as Dirthamen’s family and relatives all hurriedly get up from the table. Fear maintains a grip on Falon’Din, despite his continuing efforts to dissuade them, while Deceit links arms with Dirthamen, and they progress out through the dining room doors, and then out of the apartment as well. Mythal is the one who phones to make certain the fire department is properly prepared.

They have finally made their way out to the street when Falon’Din doubles over, coughing.

“Oh no. Is it smoke inhalation?” Selene asks, in a tone of voice Dirthamen has not heard her use before.

“Must be,” Des replies, in a tone of voice which implies that he also noticed Fear hitting Falon’Din very swiftly in the crotch.

For a moment, Dirthamen is afraid that his brother is going to hit Fear in retaliation. But they move back before he can, taking a step away as Falon’Din dissolves into curses and accusations that do not, under the circumstances, look wholly sensible. Their father seems past the point of letting their mother calm him by now as well, as he rounds on Falon’Din, incensed.

“This is your fault!” he bellows.

Selene jumps.

Elgar’nan glares only at Falon’Din, however.

“You have enraged me so badly that I could not even extinguish the flames! Your foul-language and blathering hysteria may have cost me another piece of property! How many etiquette classes did I send you to? And yet you learned nothing!”

“The fucking cunt-“

Elgar’nan storms towards Falon’Din.

It is reflex for Dirthamen to intercept. Darting out of Deceit’s grasp to put himself between father and brother.

“Father, he is not well,” he insists.

“He never has been!” Elgar’nan shouts, close enough to make his eardrums ring. “Not since his balls dropped and his brains fell out with them! LOOK! Now even my words have turned vulgar! I am not an angry man, but my sons fill me only with rage and bitter disappointment.”

The insult does not carry any sting. It is common enough.

“Dirthamen didn’t even do anything!” Selene snaps, apparently disagreeing on that point.

Elgar’nan blinks, and then glances towards her. Falon’Din manages to catch his breath again behind Dirthamen, in the span of the moment it takes Elgar’nan to apparently reconsider his stance.

Dirthamen waits for his customary response to such defenses of him – ‘nothing, of course he has done nothing, that is precisely the problem!’ – but instead, his father reaches over, and pushes him firmly back towards Selene.

She grasps his arm and reels him in, causing Dirthamen to stagger backwards a little. Her grip on his wrist is tight.

“True enough. I am not incensed with your brother, Falon’Din. He has always been strange! And unsettling! But those are not things he can help, and unlike you, he has some loyalty.”

“Loyalty?!” Falon’Din seethes, straightening back up to his full height. Towering over Elgar’nan; though Elgar’nan has never been cowed by it. Dirthamen knows the threat of his brother’s physicality is not entirely hollow, though. “Who is the heir of this family? Hm? Who was always meant to inherit all of this? You treat me like crap,” he protests. “I am your eldest son but you have never given me my due! You’d let Andruil go gallivanting all across the globe, shooting things and f… and fighting things and doing whatever she wants. Dirthamen gets all the forgiveness, weak, stupid, worthless Dirthamen who I looked after, while you and Mother were off building your fortunes, saddling me with his dead weight! And now sweet little Sylaise has run off and turned the traitor to Mother, but you want to tell me I have less loyalty than these pathetic failures?”

“YOU THINK EGOTISM IS LOYALTY!” Elgar’nan bellows. “The only thing you are loyal to is yourself! I would have given you this company; but what I ask you for return, you are never willing or able to provide. Competence. Decorum. Work. Even a lack of embarrassment is too much to ask for! You cannot so much as attend a family dinner without turning it into a disaster!”

“Husband, please,” Mythal interjects, finally. Moving herself between Falon’Din and Elgar’nan, now. Elgar’nan budges, somewhat, at her touch. Falon’Din remains rigid, towering and incensed.

“I have given more than any of the others by now. What more do you want from me? Blood?” Falon’Din demands.

“Falon’Din,” Mythal chides, pressing a hand to his arm.

But Elgar’nan is not so easily calmed, now.

“Blood! Indeed I want blood!” he protests. “But you only know how to spill it! I have had enough. You will prove to me that you are capable of some modicum of responsibility. If you wish to keep your status, to remain my heir, and your mother’s heir, you will give me grandchildren. Or I will cut you off and write you out of all inheritances I am able to! I will disown you, as the failure you are!”

The grounds in front of the apartment building go eerily silent.

It is June, of all people, who clears his throat first.

“Is Falon’Din really… parent material…?” he ventures.

Elgar’nan glares directly into his eldest son’s eyes.

“He will learn to be. Or we are done,” he reiterates.

Mythal lets out a long breath, and Dirthamen feels a rush of relief. Mother. Mother will stop this from going any further; will reverse it to manageable levels.

“We will speak of this further,” she asserts, a little more sharply, now. “Elgar’nan. The apartment is on fire. We can hear the trucks coming. Now is not the time to be making ultimatums. Your blood pressure is up, you know what the doctors have told you-“

“Bah!” Elgar’nan insists, but the hard wire of tension eases enough for him to be led away, falling into familiar habits with Mythal. Coaxed off of the edge of another cliff. Dirthamen looks at Falon’Din, who is furious and yet has no immediate catharsis for that fury. His brother looks back at him, and he knows he wants to strike him. But even more, it seems, he wants to strike the others. Fear and Des and Deceit and Selene, who are still crowded around Dirthamen.

Like a wall between them.

Dirthamen does not want them to get hurt. He wishes his brother reserved his anger for him alone.

The emergency services vehicles arrive, then. With roaring sirens too loud to be easily spoken over. Des informs the first responders that Falon’Din might have inhaled a lot of smoke and should have all pertinent and/or painful testing performed on him. Sylaise and June leave, first, to go home and ‘recover’ from the ‘dramatics’ of the evening. Andruil and Ghilan’nain decide to linger, to see if some of Andruil’s trophies will survive the blaze.

Selene throws up on the pavement, not long after, but she insists that she does not want to be looked over by medical personnel, so the five of them decide to head home.

Fear drives, with Selene in the front seat, with her window rolled down to help with her sudden nausea.

“So,” Des says, at length. “I think your father likes me. And, your brother is the kind of guy I would have avoided as a prostitute, on account of having that whole ‘will-totally-strangle-you-and-drop-your-corpse-in-a-harbour’ vibe.”

Dirthamen nods.

Selene brushes his cheek with her fingers. Lightly. He feels the beginnings of a bruise.

“I knew he was an asshole,” she says. “…Does your father always treat him like that?”

“Since highschool,” Dirthamen confirms. “Though they have had troubles getting along ever since Falon’Din was twelve. That was when he was suspended from school for using his lighter to burn a first grader.”

More silence follows.

“I really, really hate your family,” Deceit says. “I mean, I hate Fear’s family, too, and also Selene’s. But I think I hate yours more because they’re rich. And rich people give horrifying punishments, like ‘become a father and probably condemn a small child to unending abuse to Learn Your Lesson’.”

“Yeah. That was weird,” Des agrees.

“My mother will talk him out of that idea,” Dirthamen assures them. “She knows Falon’Din would not be a fit parent. And if he fails at it, then our father will take custody of any child he has. My mother does not wish to raise any more children. Not at this time, anyway.”

“I feel like we should maybe go punch your brother in the nuts a few times, though,” Des offers. “Just to, you know. Make extra sure.”

Selene makes a sound of agreement, before clearing her throat, and running a hand down her face.

“I’m sorry,” she says, quietly. “I’m so sorry. I… Dirthamen, that fire…”

“Did you start it?” he wonders.

Selene closes her eyes, oddly rigid. Her hand is still in his, but it feels stiff. As if she does not want to let go, and does not want to remove it. Fear glances back at them from the driver’s seat.

“I didn’t even realize,” she says. “It wasn’t intentional. When he hit you, it just… happened.”

Dirthamen leans over, and presses a kiss to her forehead. Forehead kisses are reassuring. Also for himself, he thinks, as the scent of her shampoo fills his nose, and he squeezes her hand in return.

“Do not tell anyone else,” he advises. “My father is often creating fire hazards and violating building safety codes. There will not be an investigation.”

Selene lets out a slightly strained breath. After another moment passes, she lets out a second one.

“That’s it?” she says. “That’s all anyone has to say?”

“Of course not,” Fear says. “Personally I would like to say ‘thank you very much’ for ending that dinner before it could go on any further. At first I was afraid that Des would contractually obligate us to procreate, and then I was concerned that one of us would murder Falon’Din. Which would be inconvenient. His family would likely feel obliged to prosecute, especially having witnessed the act, and they have very good lawyers. Though Sylaise might defend us.”

“Not for free,” Dirthamen admits.

“Ghilan’nain might pitch in for the costs,” Deceit points out. “But yes. Thank you for ending the evening, Selene.”

Selene sags against Dirthamen, just a little.

“I burned it down,” she repeats.

Des leans over, then, and gets his arms around both of them.

“No one liked that shitty apartment anyway,” he says.

“What if it got out into the rest of the building?” Selene worries.

“I doubt it. The place was huge,” Des counters, and Dirthamen nods in agreement.

“Most of the rooms are also warded to prevent the spread of fire damage,” he adds. “Likely, only the dining room was destroyed. My father will take the opportunity to remodel.”

Selene relaxes, just a bit more. Her tension seems to ease away by increments, and Dirthamen is glad for it. He knows she had a difficult visit to her mother’s grave. She came back with a bruise on her cheek she could not explain, and more relief than a usual homecoming would seem to merit. He is accustomed to his family’s quirks. He would not want her to think her actions unbecoming of them. Property destruction is not a major concern.

Things get easier once they get home, at least. Into the house. Everyone seems especially inclined to get out of their sweaters. Des pulls his off as soon as he is in the door, but Dirthamen retreats to his room to find something else to wear instead. Deceit declares that he is putting on the old Sailor Moon series and making popcorn, while Selene also goes to her room to change.

Fear follows her.

Des follows Dirthamen.

Dirthamen is not entirely surprised when Des ends up crowding him by his closet door, and pressing a kiss to his bruised cheek. Very gently, and deliberately.

“I am sick of people hitting you all,” he declares. “It’s not allowed to happen anymore. I forbid it! Anyone tries it again and I’m breaking every finger bone they have to make a point about it.”

“I am sorry,” Dirthamen offers.

“Not your fault,” Des insists, wrapping his arms around him. Then he sighs. “Selene might be touchy for a bit. And I’m thinking you might be, too. If you need me to back off or come close, just say.”

He swallows, more moved than he might have expected. He is fairly certain it is his fault – he asked them to come, arranged for all of this, and knew the risks better than anyone else – but… it is nice, not to be blamed.

“I will,” he promises. “Thank you.”

Des lets out a breath.

“Come watch Sailor Moon,” he advises.

Dirthamen nods in agreement.

“I need a shirt,” he mentions.

But Des only snorts, and waves, and insists that he doesn’t. And… the house is warm enough, so Dirthamen supposes he is not wrong. He puts his sweater into his closet and lets himself be tugged back into the living room. Deceit is making popcorn, and by the looks of it, has turned on the new coffee machine as well. The Sailor Moon title sequence is playing on the television screen. Selene and Fear emerge before long, and Selene hesitates only a little before settling in at Dirthamen’s side, and leaning up against him on the couch.

After a few seconds of this, she sighs, and ends up slumped into Dirthamen’s lap. Tired from the unexpected and uncoordinated burst of magic, he thinks.

Fear takes their usual chair.

Des climbs into it with them, however, squeezing into the wide seat as he whispers something that makes Fear roll their eyes. They decline to push him back out of the chair, though. When the popcorn is ready, Deceit carries several mugs of cocoa – not coffee, after all – into the living room along with it, and takes up a post on the couch with Dirthamen and Selene.

“You know what I’m thinking?” he says.

“We should cosplay as Sailor Scouts,” Des suggests. “Selene can be Tuxedo Mask. She’d get a kick out of it.”

Selene makes an embarrassed noise, which probably means she would.

“Solid idea, but no,” Deceit replies. “I’m thinking we should go on vacation. Nona wants to meet you guys, and I can one hundred percent promise that she will not call anyone a misogynistic or anti-sex-worker slur, or really any kind of slur. Or a ‘bitter disappointment’. She might get us to stay at her and Gran-Gran’s house, but we can probably convince them to let us use the hotel if we pre-pay for it. And Rivain is really beautiful this time of year.”

Dirthamen contemplates the matter. As does everyone else, it seems.

“It’s a good idea,” Selene offers. “But… I think I’d like to just stay home, for a while.”

There is a softness to her tone that seems echoed by the softness of this place. He glances up at the walls around them. The now-familiar rooms, and furnishings, all arrayed in spaces that Dirthamen can now navigate in the dark, should he need to cross the house while everyone is sleeping. The idea strikes him well, he thinks.

Home.

He likes their home.

“I could go for that, too,” Deceit quietly agrees, leaning in against them. Fear nods, and Des hums, and Dirthamen murmurs his own agreement.

Home is good.

#filled prompt #band au #concert au #dirthalene

17 notes · View notes

louiseblue1 · 8 years ago

Note

I feel like the main reason the writers have taken 18 months to allow Oliver & Felicity to start talking about their relationship issues is because they're hoping everyone will have forgotten what actually caused the breakup. They're couching it in terms of what Felicity has to learn about Oliver. The betrayal was 100% Oliver's. For Felicity to have to just accept his reasons as valid means their 'new' relationship is hollow, and, frankly, borderline toxic.

Actually, I couldn’t disagree more about the reason for the wait for the reunion. The real reason was they wanted to explore other s/l’s to develop Oliver and Felicity as individual characters which would have made it difficult to do when they were together. The writers have confirmed this in multiple interviews.

If I was going to use the words hollow and borderline toxic about the Olicity relationship (even though they’re not my preferred descriptors), I’d use it about the 323 and S4a Olicity relationship. Those two lied to themselves and each other throughout the entire affair about who they were, about what they needed from a partner, what they could offer. It wasn’t done maliciously, but both sides lied to the other about who they were at their cores, mainly from lack of self-comprehension and understanding. They were enabling each other in their delusions about the life they were leading. Yes, there were sweet moments and obvious real love going on there, but you can love someone and still harm them and their growth. This is what Olicity V1 was for me. It had the surface look of perfection but scratch all that pretty away and there were a swirling vortex of lies, fantasy and delusion.

I agree 100% that Oliver was wrong in lying. I don’t excuse him at all. But I think taking sides in this break up kind of defeats the purpose of the actual break up from a writing POV. Some people seem concerned that Felicity is being made the bad guy in the break up because the writers chose to grow her and give her insight into Oliver’s actions. I believe that to be the complete opposite of what the writers were going for. Felicity is such an important character in her own right and as a partner for Oliver, that she had to go to her own island. I simply don’t see them choosing to open up Felicity’s character and s/l’s as some underhanded way of making her the bad guy in the break up. It hasn’t come across that way to me, and I believe firmly it wasn’t the intent.

Before Felicity’s advice to Oliver, whilst very solid and true, could come across as a bit glib. Kind of like people who don’t have a drinking problem just telling alcoholics to stop drinking. Or thin people telling obese ones to stop eating and do more exercise. Or extroverts telling introverts just to get out there and practice being with other people and they’ll start to feel more comfortable. The advice per se isn’t wrong, but it doesn’t mean that much coming from someone who hasn’t struggled with the kinds of things that resulted in those kind of pain killing behaviours in the first place. They don’t understand the complexities of what drives a person to keep on eating even though they aren’t hungry and feel physically sick from all that food and the self-loathing that follows. It’s so much more powerful and can sometimes be so much more pointed when it comes from someone who’s been through the same thing.

Which brings me to a point I wanted to make after this episode and seeing some of the reactions by people about this whole Oliver vs Felicity thing and how I believe they’re taking it the wrong way. Here’s the thing, there is a difference between blind trust and trust. Felicity is accusing of Oliver not having her back after all the times she backed him up when he made dodgy calls. Well, here’s the thing - maybe she shouldn’t have. Maybe, if she’d understood his trauma and PTSD and general mindset better, she would have slammed her foot down and said no, jackass, taking on Ra’s by yourself is a dumb ass idea. It’s coming from a loner/siege mentality and that’s just not your reality anymore. Maybe if Felicity had done that, then Oliver would have been forced to look at what he was doing and more more importantly, why he was doing it a whole lot sooner.

Now, in saying that, I’m not putting any blame on Felicity. Oliver did what he did. It’s on him. And heroes always take 10 times as long to learn lessons as everyone else, because you’ve got to fill episode after episode with their journey. However, my point is, Oliver has gone through making all of those missteps, all of those bad calls that endangered himself and got a lot of people hurt/killed. Is it really a matter of trust when he’s seeing Felicity make all the same mistakes he did and not backing her on doing the same dumb ass stuff he did that hurt so many people? Are we really going to call that a lack of trust? I can see why Felicity would feel like that in the moment, but is that what we, with our clear heads are going to takeaway from all of this? Are we really going to let the most hurting, disorientated person lead us out of the forest? Is that a good game plan?

The point of this episode, in my mind at least, is not to assign blame. It’s to point out how freakin’ complicated it all is! Arrow and in turn, Olicity, operates in the grey. If Olicity can’t navigate the grey between them, work out what is the best way to support each other in hard times, then they’re doomed. And supporting one another is sometimes telling the other person they’re being a dumb ass, and they’re doing things wrong. That’s a valid way to love someone. It’s an acknowledgement of our imperfections and failings. At different times one of them is going to be right, and one of them wrong. And other times they’ll both be right, or both be wrong. There are no sides in a functioning partnership. It’s a continual give and take. A continual negotiation and re-negotiation of terms and requirements. A relationship has to be able to have a lot of give in it, so it can take all the pressures that are always being applied to it.

I believe the last thing the writers want to do is for us to forget why these two broke up. They want us to remember why Oliver did what he did (hence the FB sex and pillow talk I’m assuming we’re going to get). They want it fresh in everyone’s mind as to how and why Oliver did what he did. So we can compare it to the how and why of Felicity making a wrong call. Again, not so her bad call can neutralise Oliver’s bad call. That’s not the intent. That’d be like saying - oh, he had an affair, so she can have an affair and that makes them equal. No, absolutely not. This is all about highlighting the challenges in the lives they’ve chosen to have. It’s giving insight to both sides, that, given the right set of circumstances, Felicity can isolate herself and go on off her own, and Oliver can be the voice of reason. It’s to show that for all their differences, they’re both going to be facing down the same kind of challenges and now, much more as equals, because Felicity has actually experienced the loss, rage, helplessness, fear and grief Oliver has. To a lesser extent, but then, Felicity isn’t as hard headed as Oliver, she can learn her lessons more quickly.

I guess all of this is just a (very) long winded way of not reducing this magnificent piece of character exploration and exposition to a Oliver vs Felicity thing - who is to blame and who isn’t. This is about how these people react under the same pressures. It’s about understanding each other in a much more real way. It’s not about blame. It’s about accountability from both sides. We are all accountable in our relationships. Olicity weren’t demonstrating that properly when they first got together. They couldn’t give each other what they truly needed. Now, they can. They’re equals. Equally screwed up. Equally magnificent.

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illeity · 8 years ago

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Winter 2017 Anime Awards!

(From the ones I actually watched.)

Best Overall: 3-gatsu no Lion/ March Comes in like a Lion

Into the light.

With consistent quality during the second part despite a shift in focus, perfectly managed tone that never leads to excess sentimentality or overt levity, and a story that ebbs and flows with such grace that it melts metaphor and direct description like an impressionist painting, Chica Umino's March Comes in Like a Lion remains the top spot for two consecutive seasons for the simple reason that it tells a rich story of individuals and making meaning.

In the first part, it introduces shogi professional, sometimes student, and introvert Rei Kiriyama and the facets of his life, particularly his close ties with the Kawamoto siblings. At the beginning of Part 2, Rei hugs the youngest Kawamoto sibling, Momo, and says that he has personal and professional matters to deal. While he sees the Kawamoto family as comfort and healing, he understands that he can't come running to them each time. With a major tournament upcoming he stops visiting them and the narrative shifts to the lives of the Shogi players that he plays against. With their own dreams and regrets, he becomes an observer of their lives as he compares it against his own, not to pass judgement on his failings, but to see the possibilities there is to life and to recognize that in the end, there are no bad guys, just people driven by very different motivations and showing how they cope with the consequences of a lifetime of choices.

With another season later in the year and a two-part live action movie currently showing in Japan, the series deserves all the accolades it gets. And if you're ever in the market for something substantial, with a deep, beating heart, this is your anime.

Best Drama: Youjo Senki, The Saga of Tanya the Evil

What is a god to an non-believer?

Tanya von Degurechaff is the fiercest, deadliest, and most cunning soldier of the Empire (Not-Germany) as they wage the first World War (Until it becomes muddled when they introduce a Panzerkampfwagen IV.). She's also under thirteen years old and is hated by God, or a god.

Why is that?

The god sees Tanya has such little faith in him and has therefore cursed her: Should she die a death that is not natural, she will be taken off the wheel of reincarnation and sent to hell.

But why a kid? And why so much hatred for an individual?

While these questions are answered to an extent, the most important thing to consider is that these driving forces are what sets up Tanya as she is placed in conflict for most of the war as she struggles to survive. She puts in as many legal means as possible to leave the war, only to have her end up on the front lines anyway, whether by her own fault, or by divine intervention.

As she leaves a trail of bodies, her actions reverberate throughout the war as everyone slowly pushes down into a black hole, no matter who is winning. And as with the nature of war, there are no heroes, only murderers.

Best Comedy: Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku o!

"This anime is like every insane D&D story I have ever heard." -henlp

The second season of Konosuba! continues the adventures of Satou Kazuma as he is pulled from the real world into a fantasy world where RPG game mechanics exist in reality. He's accompanied by a Goddess who drinks too much and wastes her skill points on party tricks, a Wizard who knows only one spell (and collapses after every use), and a Crusader who can tank, but cannot hit any living thing with her sword (not out of principle, she just can't hit at all). Also, that Crusader is a masochist.

"Insane and crazy" is the proper descriptor for the way the series is plotted, as comedic plot points are introduced and escalated versions of those plot points are put to use later on. The characters are made aware that they are in the mess they are in because of the solution that resolved a previous conflict made ample fuel for another. "It gets worse" is another descriptor as they are battered by bad luck and only somehow manage to escape as even their most competent moments are displays of excellence borne out of their utter stupidity. It's a show that's shameless enough to throw everything at a wall to make you laugh, and most of the time, what they throw in, sticks.

Honorable Mention: Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon

The Lion falls in love with the Mouse.

Miss Kobayashi is a Systems Engineer who, after a night of drunken revelry, somehow saves the life of a dragon, Tohru. Still drunk, she invites the Dragon back to her apartment, and into her life.

Unlike Konosuba! which fills narrative space with ever increasing, crazy humor, Miss Kobayashi's strength is mixing in the fantastical elements with the mundane, to create the comedy or the heart-warming plots, something that Gabriel DropOut only marginally succeeded in doing.

All throughout are discussions on the comfort between partners and the lives of people from vastly different backgrounds. It's about love and growing into it, even though we've largely been on autopilot. It's about the surprise we get when we realize to what degree people can love us for.

Best Cute Girl Anime: Demi-chan wa Kataritai, Interview with Monster Girls

Science, Folklore, and Free Hugs

Almost all Cute Girl Anime narratives occur within a casting closed system, that is, primary and secondary characters are all girls and they play off their antics onto each other and whatever conflict they find themselves in. So this is a very special case where the Primary female characters shine in their characterization with the aid of a Primary male character, Takahashi Tetsuo, Biology teacher, Demi-Human Researcher, and member of the pantheon of the "Greatest Teachers in Fiction".

So for the girls, we have Takanashi Hikari, vampire, Machi Kyouko, dullahan, Elsa, Kusakabi Yuki, a snow woman, and Satou Sakie, succubus and Math teacher.

The daily motions of these monster girls is already interesting enough, but a subtle beauty comes from the setting and the way the plot is crafted with a keen eye for science and human foibles.

The world-building is present but hardly emphasized, and shows how the world accommodates the Demi-Humans and their special needs. Vampires get blood packs subsidized by the government, Succubi get visits from Demi-Human agencies to check up on how well they're adjusting to their environment, and the rest are treated not so much because they're demi-humans, but how they are as people. Kusakabe Yuki, for instance, is seen as cold by a few of her peers, but never attribute her nature as a snow woman to be the cause.

The science part is interesting, because several chapters detail efforts by Takahashi trying to explain the physiology of the Demi-Humans, drawing on folklore for insight and the scientific method to explain "how" they function, without asking "why". In Magical Realism, whys have never been the point anyway.

And so we have a Cute Girl anime that stands above and beyond what is generally expected of the genre. By having the willingness to introduce other characters in the mix, we experience something a bit more different in how humor is constructed and how conflict is resolved. True to its efforts to ground itself through science, the warmth comes off even more genuine and realistic.

Best Sci-Fi/ Fantasy: Little Witch Academia

Better than Harry Potter.

What started off as a crowd-funded film about a young girl aspring to become a great witch, has turned into a full-blown series as it should have from the start. It carries with it all the trademarks of Trigger: Stark and clean character design, slick animation, and a wild ride of a story. Whereas previous works were about killer clothes and literal shared experiences, this one is a straight-forward romp into the realm of fantasy.

Except, while the premise is straight-forward, the execution has all the majesty and scope of an epic tightly-knit inside the trappings of what is essentially a coming-of-age, high school story. Add a pinch of the ever classic industry versus magic trope, excellent characters and well-realized relationships, and you have something that only ever appears plain and overdone.

Best Girl: Tsukinose Vignette April from Gabriel DropOut

No good or evil, only kawaii.

I have reached the conclusion that in the world of Gabriel DropOut, the one reason neither Heaven nor Hell have made any greater stride against the other is not because of balance, but rather because both are equally inept.

That being said, Tsukinose Vignette April, a demon from Hell, is the worst kind of inept but the also the best kind of character to be best girl: Kind, disciplined, being the one person responsible enough to go over to Gabriel's home to wake her up for school, scared of horror movies, and just... angelic. Compound her difficulty with being the only straight man in a comedy quartet gives her the patience of a saint.

Some people, like Gabriel, could never grasp the responsibility of being a divine being. For Vignette, she was just unlucky enough to not have been born to a role she's a natural in: that of a normal human being.

Best OP: "Shadow and Truth" by ONE III NOTES from ACCA: 13-Territory Inspection Dept.

"It's never really what it seems."

In the latest of slice-of-life/ food/ mystery anime is ACCA: 13-Territory Inspection Dept, where Otus tries to do his job as inspector in what is ostensibly a Fascist state that is under rumors of a coup.

Of course, the general goal of any good OP is to draw the viewer into the show and communicate what they'll come to expect from it. And for a show with such style and class it's masterful to pick a song that blends hip-hop and jazz as the vocalists rap about the hazy nature of truth as people play games with relationships and politics into each other.

The striking visuals complement the song nicely, with shots of the various characters shifting in and out of blur and limiting visuals to white, black, and one more color for every scene to evoke a unique feel for every single character and teasing the role they'll play in the show.

Best ED: "Los! Los! Los!" by Aoi Yūki from Youjo Senki, Saga of Tanya the Evil

Bedenke, dass du sterben musst.

An ode to madness and bloodlust, Los! Los! Los! (German for "Come on! Come on! Come on!") is a war speech in song form with very simple visuals: Shots of Tanya's face in various states of anger/ madness, a battlefield, and a few illustrations by the Light Novel's artist, Neichiru. How and when they're shown is where the song melds and gains greater power.

The angry/ mad face and the battlefield are shown and interchange with each other to follow the beat of the song during the chorus, which are commands in German to attack, take cover, or stand in attention.

Neichiru's illustrations take over during the verses, which celebrates war, the joys of taking away life, and surrendering your own life to your country, which the song sees as a great achievement, good enough to reach heaven for by building dead bodies one atop another.

Listening to the full song is recommended , as it expands on the nihilism even further, calling for those who advocate peace as weaklings and calling for ceaseless violence and depravity akin more to Heaven rather than Hell.

For its dark and horrifying thesis (sung with the voice of a young girl), the song would not be out of place in a battlefield setting where you know there is no way out, so you might as well go and fight and relish every drop of blood spilled, whether your own, or your opponents.

#March Comes in Like a Lion #youjo senki #konosuba #miss kobayashi's dragon maid #demi-chan wa kataritai #acca 13-ku kansatsu-ka #gabriel dropout #little witch academia #anime awards

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analogscum · 6 years ago

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ROCK N’ ROLL NIGHTMARE (1987, d. John Fasano)

Rock n’ roll is dead. I’m sorry to have to break the news to you, my dear Scumbags, but it’s true. If I’m being honest, for awhile, I was feeling the same way about ROCKTOBER.

Just look at today’s musical landscape. The youth of now don’t want to listen to killer riffs and epic drum solos. They want to listen to shiny, overproduced country ballads about driving your truck down to the river at night. They want to listen to shiny, overproduced pop songs about how being a woman is awesome and there’s no night like tonight because tonight is the night that we’re all gonna be women. They want to listen to shitty, underproduced hip-hop made by rapists with facial tattoos about how they want to kill themselves because they either have no drugs, or they have too many drugs, I’m honestly not too sure. On a commercial scale, what does that leave us rockers? The Black Keys? Uggggh. Mumford and Sons? Blecccch. Imagine Dragons? Imagine my itchy taint.

Point is, I was feeling about ROCKTOBER the same way we’re all feeling about the state of rock n’ roll today. I wanted to do something fun and weird for my favorite month of the year, but the first two movies I selected, well, they were lacking. They simply didn’t rock enough. But then I realized, you can’t lose the faith. If you wanna find the good stuff, you’ve just gotta keep digging. And just like that, a stiff, demonic wind blew in from the great white north, and saved ROCKTOBER, just when we needed it the most. Thank you, Canada. And thank you, Rock n’ Roll Nightmare.

We open on a quaint little farmhouse. It’s morning. Mom is downstairs making breakfast, Dad is shaving off that stubble, and Junior is getting ready for school. How picturesque this familial scene is! Mom opens the fridge, and there’s a glowing red light and a growl! Oh no, is it Zuul?! Dad hears this growling and his wife screaming, so he saunters downstairs at a leisurely pace. But when he gets to the kitchen, Mom is gone! Hey, what is that in the oven? Dad opens it up, and it’s Mom’s goopy skeleton! Wow! It reaches out and tries to grab Dad! Junior sees this and screams! Then an Evil Dead first person camera demon zooms around the house as the credits roll, because THAT is how you start a goddamn movie!

Now we cut to a van driving down a rural highway. But this is not any ordinary van, this van is a total shaggin’ wagon. It’s white with shiny red stripes, the interior is all red velour, and to top it all off, there’s a pair of handcuffs dangling from the rearview mirror. You can practically smell the vapors of bong water and old genitalia coming off of this thing. The van screams down the highway for about the combined length of the driving scene in “Manos: The Hands of Fate” and the driving scene in “Solaris,” which is to say, for way too long. Would it surprise you to know that they shot this sequence when they realized the film’s runtime was too short?

Anyway, the van pulls up to the quaint little farmhouse from the beginning, and for the first time we meet The Tritonz, the most bitchin’ heavy metal quintet from the United States and definitely not Canada! There’s our banshee vocalist and fearless leader, Jon, played by Jon-Mikl Thor, whose Wikipedia page describes him as a “bodybuilding champion, actor, songwriter, screenwriter, historian, vocalist, and musician.” Now that I’ve seen this movie, I take issue with a few of those descriptors, but anyway. We’ve also got Stiggy, the Australian drummer, Max, the guitarist, Roger, the bassist, and Dee Dee, the keyboardist. Along for the ride are Jon’s girlfriend Randy, Roger’s new wife Mary, Stiggy’s girlfriend Gwen, and Phil, the band’s manager. As Jon explains, they’re going to be staying in this farmhouse for the next month while they work on material for their new album. The barn has even been converted into a 24-track recording studio for them. When someone asks why this farmhouse on the outskirts of Toronto, Jon replies thusly: “Toronto is where it’s happening, man! The music, the entertainment, the arts…” So, in other words, Rock n’ Roll Nightmare is the world’s weirdest tourism commercial. Neat! Gwen immediately starts complaining that they’re in the middle of nowhere, and that they don’t have roadies to carry their luggage for them, because Gwen is the character in the movie who gets angry and annoyed about everything. We then meet the groundskeeper, who looks just like Ken Burns. Phil tries to get the keys from him, but Ken Burns just keeps rattling on about Alice Cooper, and I think this scene was supposed to be funny, but whoops, and then Ken Burns gives Phil the keys and walks out of the movie. Bye, Ken Burns! We get an overhead shot of the house, and an ominous musical stinger…but then everyone just walks into the house and nothing happens. Get used to this, because I really think that they let shots go on about three to five seconds longer than necessary in a desperate attempt to pad the runtime out, and I won’t be convinced otherwise. I’m a Rock n’ Roll Nightmare truther!

So they divvy up the rooms, and Gwen complains that they’re gonna have to eat Phil’s cooking for dinner, and witheringly refers to Mary as a “housewife.” Cool. Jon announces that he’s going to go lock up the van, and then we watch him do just that, in real time. At one point, he sees a shadow behind the curtains in his bedroom, and looks concerned, but then it’s just Randy. She cups her breasts in his direction, as if to say, hey, look, I’ve got tits! And he just kinda smiles in a way you do when you wanna be nice to spare someone’s feelings. Cut to, dinner has just ended. Phil is wearing an old timey paper hat like he’s behind the counter of a soda fountain for no reason, and I’m HERE FOR IT. Jon makes a toast to making their best album yet. Then Gwen pressures Stiggy into giving a toast, thinking he’ll be like, here’s to my girlfriend Gwen who is super awesome and not an asshole at all, but because Stiggy is kind of a dummy, he’s like, ummmm, here’s to Phil for cooking us an awesome meal. Gwen of course gets mad, and then refuses to clean dishes, because, as she puts it, “I’m not a HOUSEWIFE.” I really don’t understand where Gwen is coming from here. Is she jealous of Mary? Does she think Mary is a goody two shoes? Or is she against the institution of marriage in general? Sadly, only lil’ Baby Jesus knows for sure, and he ain’t talkin’. Anyway, Phil and the other two ladies wash dishes while doing a funky little dance and giggling like they’re in a Nancy Meyers movie, before deciding to head over to the barn and watch their menfolk (plus Dee Dee, who is a lady) rock out.

And rock out they do! We’re treated to the first of many Jon-Mikl Thor originals here. This one is entitled “We Live to Rock,” because of course it is. While the Tritonz are melting faces with their wattage (kinda), that gosh darn Evil Dead first person camera demon starts zooming around again. To my surprise, we then get to see said demon, and well, there’s no polite way of saying this, so here goes…it looks like a penis. It just does. It looks like a penis with one googly eye and a big dumb mouth right underneath the tip. I could not even believe it. So then it drools (calm down, everyone) right into Phil’s beverage, and we see him take a sip, and ewwwwwww. As they finish the song, Stiggy breaks one of his drumsticks. His bandmates get on him as if he just ruined the entire song, which, like, drumsticks break all the time, guys, relax. Phil is like, hey, I’ve got a bunch of drumsticks in the basement, I’ll be right back. But when he gets down to the basement, Gwen is waiting for him. She’s like, hey Phil, you look like the host of an early 90s Nickelodeon game show that only lasted one season, let’s fuuuuuuuuuuck. Phil is deeply confused by this, because, let’s face it, he’s Phil, but he goes along with it, at least until Gwen’s face becomes a zombie demon face and bites a chunk of his shoulder off! Oh nooooooo! Everyone upstairs hears Phil yelling, so they run down to the basement, but Phil is nowhere to be seen. Jon decides that, hey, we definitely heard the yelling coming from down here, but maybe Phil is in the attic? Uhh, what? Anyway, then they discover that their shaggin’ wagon is gone, so they’re like, hey, Phil probably went into town to buy some drumsticks, typical old Phil, That’s So Phil, etc. etc. etc.

Night has fallen. Randy desperately wants Jon to slip her his Mikl Thor, but he’s too focused on his songwriting, his art, his craft, maaaaaan. Max and Dee Dee also wanna freak each other nasty, but they’re too shy to admit it. You know how 80s rock stars were notoriously sexually timid, right? Roger and Mary make sweet love and talk about how much they love being married and isn’t it great to be married and we’re so glad that we’re going to be married for a long time and definitely not turned into zombie demons off screen anytime soon, because yay marriage. We catch up with Stiggy just as he’s blasting a load into Gwen, and he seems very satisfied with himself. After he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, Gwen refers to him as “the one minute wonder,” because Gwen gonna Gwen. Stiggy is flexing in the bathroom mirror and doing a terrible Schwarzenegger impression, when all of a sudden a bodacious buh-buh-buh baaaaaaabe that we have never seen before is standing in the doorway. Instead of being like, umm, who the hell are you and how did you get into our house, Stiggy is like, oh, awesome, tits! But then the buh-buh-buh baaaaaaabe turns into a zombie demon creature. It kinda looks like Goosebumps’ The Haunted Mask crossed with Night of the Creeps. It puts it’s hand on Stiggy’s mouth, so now Stiggy is possessed, I guess? He goes back into the bedroom and Gwen is like ugh, what do YOU want? And Stiggy is like, dat ass. And he gets on top of her, and then from outside the room we hear Gwen screaming with orgasmic delight, so I guess demonic possession DOES have its upsides?

Now there’s a dumb and unnecessary scene where a bunch of teenage girls who are in the “Mississauga Chapter of the Tritonz fan club” or some such nonsense show up at the house and are like, Ohmygawd, it’s 2am, let’s go wake them up and…I guess ask for autographs or something? But who should answer the door? It’s Phil! Ummmm what? And Phil is speaking like an upper crust weirdo because I guess that’s what the movie thinks a possessed person would sound like, and he’s like, ok girls, the band will be down “in twenty minutes” (???), how about you take them titties out! And these girls, one of whom we just heard drop the word “retarded” in a derogatory way, are shocked that a rock band would wanna see some nude breasts. Phil gets angry at the lack of exposed lady nips, the girls leave, the camera pan down…Phil has a zombie demon hand! Cue the Vincent Price laugh, I guess!

Morning comes, and Roger and Mary are like hey its our first time washing dishes as a married couple and we’re totally married and being married is awesome, oh whoops, some zombie demon hands pulled us offscreen and now we seem to have zombie demon hands too! Drat! Over at the barn, Jon is like, hey, where’s Roger, off being married or something? Oh well, guess I’ll strap on this totally tubular headless bass which will never go out of style, so that we can play our next song, “Energy!” Gwen is happily rocking out, because Stiggy’s demon dick turned her frown upside down. When the song is over, everyone is like, wow Stiggy, your drumming sounds great, we’re not even concerned that your Australian accent has inexplicably vanished! Then everyone gets a case of the hornies out of nowhere. Stiggy is like, hey Gwen, let’s go down to the lake so I can give you more of that possession nookie. Max and Dee Dee decide that now’s the time to finally seal the deal vis a vis knockin’ them damn boots. Randy is like, hey Jon, we should probably fuck the color out of each other’s hair, right? And Jon is like…nah, I’d rather work on some lyrics. Sorry, Randy!

Down at the lake, Gwen takes her top off and is like, hey, here are my boobs, let’s do this. Stiggy, in his new, non-Australian accent, is like, OK, and then his stomach rips open and a devil hand pops out! Neat! Gwen screams as the demon hand cops a feel, and Max and Dee Dee hear it, but assume that it’s a scream of ecstasy. Now the movie turns into a softcore porno for like ten or fifteen minutes. Max and Dee Dee have a slow, passionate bonk sesh. Randy stops beating around the bush and is like, hey look, Jon-Mikl Thor, I’m naked, let’s go have a super awkward sex scene in the shower. Jon-Mikl Thor is like, sounds good to me, and they go have a super awkward sex scene in the shower. It’s so unfortunate, you guys. There’s gross tongue kissing and weird acrobatic poses. Like, movies love make it seem like shower sex is totally easy, but no no, I beg to differ! Anyway, Max and Dee Dee finish up their romantic porking and get dressed, when they spy Junior! From the beginning of the movie! What’s that lil’ rugrat doing there?! They chase after him, ending up in the barn, where, to their horror, he turns into what looks like the love child of Bud Cort and a Shar-Pei, and zombie demon murderizes both of them. Which I hear is way worse than being murderized by a human. My uncle told me.

Anyway, Jon-Mikl Thor is super annoyed that everyone has mysteriously vanished, so he goes over to the barn to work on some lyrics, just in time for Randy to encounter Junior herself. Our hero is working on those darn lyrics of his and enjoying a nice crisp refreshing Coca-Cola, when all of a sudden, the penis devil returns! But not only that, there are now a bunch of penis devils! One looks kinda old, one is greenish blue, one is even smoking a cigarette, can you even imagine?! What’s strange is, Jon-Mikl Thor doesn’t seem to notice any of them, even the one that’s sitting literally right next to him. Then Randy enters the barn, and it’s like, ok, she’s obviously possessed. She gets up in Jon-Mikl Thor’s face and is like, face it, all your friends are dead, everyone’s dead! To which Jon-Mikl Thor is like, nope, don’t think so. At which point, Randy is engulfed in a flash of red light…and turns into a giant rubber Satan puppet! Holy shit! Eat your heart out, tiny-ass Satan puppet from Prime Evil! Weirdly enough, Jon-Mikl Thor seems completely nonplussed by ANY of this. Cool as a cucumber with a feathery viking haircut.

Now, my dear Scumbags, we come to perhaps the most batshit guano crazy town banana pants plot twist I have ever seen in a movie. I’m not exaggerating. SPOILER ALERT, FOR CHRISSAKES. SPOILER GODDAMN ALERT.

Satan puppet is like, haha, I turned all of your friends into my zombie demon minions or whatever. Jon-Mikl Thor, still completely unshaken, is like, nah bro, you didn’t. To which a perplexed Satan puppet is like, umm, no dude, I’m pretty sure I did that shit, homes. Then, Jon-Mikl Thor drops a goddamn bombshell:

“You killed no one, Bub. Or is it less familiar to call you Beelzebub? Or do you prefer Abaddon? Or, as the Hindus called you, Shaitan? Or, as you are known to answer to, Ahriman? Belial? Apollyon? Asmodeus? Because, you see… I do know you.”

IN OTHER WORDS, NONE OF THE OTHER CHARACTERS IN THE MOVIE WERE REAL!!!

Wh…wh…wh…

THEY WERE ASTRAL PROJECTIONS, CREATED BY ME, JON-MIKL THOR, TO DRAW YOU, SATAN PUPPET, OUT INTO THE OPEN SO THAT WE CAN DO BATTLE!!!

Wh…wh…wh…

AND I DID THIS BECAUSE I’M NOT REALLY JON-MIKL THOR, LEAD SINGER OF THE TRITONZ, I’M ACTUALLY TRITON, THE ARCHANGEL, THE INTERCESSOR!!!

AND JON-MIKL THOR RIPS OFF HIS CLOTHES TO REVEAL A SHINY CAPE AND A METAL CODPIECE!!!

And so the fight between Jon-Mikl Thor and Satan puppet begins, and oh my word, it is so goddamn charming. It’s like an Ed Wood fever dream. While the epic strains of our last Tritonz number, “We Accept the Challenge” blare triumphantly over the soundtrack, Satan puppet throws some rubber squid monsters at Jon-Mikl Thor, which he holds to his oiled chest while screaming in pain, as if they’re real, but then he rips them off and tears them to shreds! Yaaaay! Then he kinda gets Satan puppet in a chokehold for awhile, but then Satan puppet bitch slaps him and he falls to the ground! Oh noooooo! But then Jon-Mikl Thor gets Satan puppet by the ankles, and somehow gets him in a chokehold again? Ummmmm? Then the song ends, which means it’s time for the scene to end, so Satan puppet is like, you win this time, guess I’m going back to Hell until I find another Canadian family to harass with penis devils! To which Jon-Mikl Thor cooly replies, “I’ll see you again, old scratch.” Old what? Excuse me? What is any of this?

We then cut to a dark graveyard. Dark as in they seem to have forgotten to light this scene. Jon-Mikl Thor wanders up to some tombstones, we don’t know whose because he doesn’t say and again it’s dark, and he’s like, hey, good news, I choked out the Satan puppet, so you guys didn’t die in vain, anyway, byeeeee. Then we cut to a seemingly random shot of what looks like a suburban home, and then the movie ends. WOWZERS MCZOWZERS.

Simply put, Rock n’ Roll Nightmare is fucking awesome. I had an absolute blast watching this ridiculous cheese log of a movie. Having read the review, you may not be shocked to learn that, in addition to starring in the film and providing all of the music, Jon-Mikl Thor also wrote the screenplay and produced the movie himself. One may be tempted to call a film in which you cast yourself as a literal rock god who vanquishes the devil a vanity project, but I’m not sure that I would. I think a big part of a vanity project is a lack of self-awareness. Tommy Wiseau and Neil Green make vanity projects. To me, anyway, it seems like Jon-Mikl Thor is at least somewhat in on the joke here. The guy comes from the metal world, which is all about embracing over the top silliness, so of course he would make a movie that is chock full of over the top silliness. While I was watching it, I couldn’t stop thinking of Panos Cosmatos’s “Mandy,” another film that I recently saw and loved. Despite the fact that Cosmatos is somewhat of a visionary, and Thor and his director, John Fasano, well, aren’t, both films feel like the acid-soaked daydream of a teenage metalhead dude circa the mid 1980s. And I mean that in the best way possible. Sure, the dialogue is borderline alien, the acting is mostly awful, and the editing is beyond subpar, but when you’re dealing with a movie this fun, this weird, and this full of imagination, none of that stuff really matters. Hell, that ineptitude can sometimes even elevate what you’re watching, when there’s heart and soul. Which is all a long winded way of saying, hey hey, my my, rock n’ roll can never die. Thankfully, neither can Rock n’ Roll Nightmare.

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