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reddeadmort · 6 years ago

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ArthurxF!Reader where they have twins together. Mama and twins go to store but end up getting kidnapped by O'Driscolls or Lemoyne Raiders. Normally, she could handle them but they've taken the kids and are using them as leverage for her participation. Not only does the gang go crazy but Arthur is just on a rampage. Please and thank you!

Kidnapping, violence, and rescuing? You know that’s my jam 😂.

This was getting really long, so I’ve actually ended up splitting this into two parts, don’t worry, the ending should be going up tomorrow!

This could easily be a continuation from “There’s something about Mary” - I’ve re-organised my masterlist to put the stories that kind of relate together for your reading pleasure.

Went with O’Driscolls for this one, to me the Lemoyne raiders are too dumb/disorganised. Also, the long-running feud helps the plot. Enjoy!

Arthur x f! Reader | “We’re off on an O'Driscoll hunt” | Part 1

Guidance: Bit of fluff with the kids, violence, kidnapping, torture/threats of (not against reader). Arthur is actually only mentioned in this one, but will feature heavily in Part 2.

Words: 3.3k

You didn’t like having to take the wagon into town. It was slow and cumbersome, not particularly well maintained. But, when you had the twins by yourself, you didn’t have much choice. You couldn’t safely carry both of them on your horse, and there was no point dragging Arthur along for such a mundane little trip; he had more lucrative matters to attend to.

4 or 5 years ago, you would never have considered that you’d be doing such domestic things as taking your kids for new clothes and a haircut. It seemed insane; one day, you’d be robbing a train, husband at your side, while the next day you’d be dealing with two screaming children, both upset that they had the other one’s shirt on, despite them being the exact same shirt. You did often feel a sense of guilt when you left them behind to go on a job; after all, you might not come back. You always tried to push the thought from your mind, reminding yourself that you could quite as easily die from something far less exciting in or near the camp – illness, accident, animal attack.

But still, you felt that little pang, and whenever you were returning from being away, the thing that usually filled your mind was getting back to them. You knew Arthur felt the same way; ever since the twins were born, he spent far fewer nights away from camp, only when he had to. Where you could, you tried to only have one of you away from camp at a time – the kids always slept better when one of you was there to curl up next to. Thankfully, with some persuasion, they would also sleep in Abigail and John’s tent on the boar skin rug Arthur had made. You were so grateful for Abigail and John; without them, you and Arthur would never be able to get some top quality alone time.

The sounds of arguing pulled you out of your daydream.

“What are you two doing? Stop it, right now!” The twins were squabbling on the seat next to you; you knew you should have sat one on either side.

“But it’s my stick! I wanna it!”

Where the hell did they even get that from? Sighing, you leaned over, and took the stick from them, with some resistance.

“Come on now, we’re nearly there. It won’t take long, and if you’re both good, we’ll go see the sheep like I promised, okay?” Your tone was soft but forceful, accompanied by a look that said don’t push it. Even after these years, your ‘mum’ voice still felt strange, alien; like it wasn’t you that said it. Your words were met with some muffled muttering, but the twins settled once again. They confused the hell out of you on a daily basis; they hated being apart, even for 5 minutes, but always wound each other up when they were together.

You stopped the wagon next to the Valentine stables and unloaded the kids. First stop – haircuts. They were starting to look like John, and as much as you loved him, the man didn’t have a clue how to groom himself. Shorter hair was much better for your life, much easier to keep clean. You weren’t even going to attempt cutting their hair yourselves; you had many skills, but giving a good haircut was not one of them.

The trips to the barbers and the general store were mercifully short, and the children were actually on best behaviour, albeit a little bored when being shoved into various clothes to see what fitted. They must really want to see those sheep you thought. You loaded your bag onto the wagon, then turned to look down at the kids – they were waiting for those magic words.

Smiling, you sighed slightly, and rolled your eyes in an over-exaggerated manner. “Come on then, let’s go see the sheep!”

The kids squealed and, pausing to check there was no one coming, ran off across the street between the buildings towards the auction yard. You grinned and started after them; you were glad to see they had stopped to check for any horses or wagons, but had no idea where this sensible side had come from. It certainly wasn’t from you or Arthur!

When you got to the mouth of the alley, you couldn’t see them at the end, but you didn’t worry; they knew exactly where they were going, and you would be able to see them as soon as you reached the end. Still, you quickened your pace slightly.

As you stepped out, slightly blinded by the sun, you were about to call their names when you were grabbed from behind and a hand clamped over your mouth. You were about to fight back, elbow this brute in the stomach, when you saw your kids in front of you. You breathed in sharply as your adrenaline surged at the sight of your twins, hands clamped over their mouths, knives to their throats.

“Now, Mrs Morgan, dontcha go makin’ a noise now” a low voice whispered in your ear. “Or, well…. let’s say your little happy family will get smaller.” The words were almost snarled, each one dripping with hatred. Your kids were in shock, stood perfectly still, too frightened to even cry.

“We need to have a little chat.” The man growled and dragged you backwards into the backroom of one of the shops. Your heart sank when you saw even more men; 3, you could have taken, as long as you got them separated from the kids, but 6 was far too many. You recognised a couple of them as O’Driscolls; the others you didn’t know, but Colm’s men typically didn’t survive for any length of time.

You were shoved roughly down onto a chair, the hand over your mouth finally releasing, but only so that you could be tied down. You complied, letting them pull your arms behind you, and didn’t make a noise, even when the rope cut into your wrists as it was pulled tight. The men with your kids had followed you in, knives still at their throats; as soon as you were secure, the knives were removed and the kids roughly gagged before having their hands and feet tied. What kind of animals tie up young children! You were practically screaming in your head, but still, no noise came from your mouth. You weren’t going to give these bastards any excuse.

“Right girly.” The man who spoke was inches from your face, and you could feel his warm breath on you, the stench filling your nostrils. “Sorry, I mean….Mrs Morgan.” He spat these last words at you, spittle spraying your face. This was why it was dangerous to have a family as an outlaw. Too many things they could use to get to you, too easy to provoke a dangerous gut instinct response.

“We need ya help. See, we want some of that money that’s in the bank. Except we don’t want the law thinkin’ it was us, see? And when we found that you lot were set up nearby, well, that’s just a gift” the man sneered at you.

So that’s what they want, the bastards. To frame you, the gang; even if you didn’t get caught, as soon as the Pinkertons caught wind of your description they would be all over this area. You’d managed to lay low for so long, deliberately avoiding causing a fuss in Valentine, persuading Dutch to take a closer look at each score. Without any solid leads, the Pinkertons hadn’t had the cash to chase you past Blackwater, especially after a few years had passed; it wasn’t exactly the life you wanted, moving between different camps in New Hanover, but the latest camp at Horseshoe overlook was comfortable and pleasant.

“So, sweetheart” – those words made you shudder involuntarily – “you’re going to help us rob the bank. And Joe here is going to hang on to yer kids a little way out of town while we do so. You do exactly as we say, and we won’t harm a hair on their heads. We’ll even let you all go runnin’ off back to Dutch, give your pathetic little group a head start. ‘Cause we’re nice like that.” That last part made all the man around the room laugh.

“Agreed, girly?”

You gave a slight nod of your head, still not daring to say anything. The man in front of you chuckled.

“Oh, I forgot, you weren’t given permission to speak. Yer a good little girl ain’t yeh? I can see why Arthur likes you.” He patted the top of your head mockingly, like a dog, as he spoke. “Come on girl, speak, there’s a good girl.” This bastard was going to die slowly.

“Fine. I’ll help. But I don’t want to get shot because of one of you dumb bastards.” You weren’t expecting the slap, and it was powerful, almost knocking you and the chair over. You spat on the floor, clearing your mouth, before turning your head back.

“Now there’s the fightin’ talk I was expectin’. Dutch’s gundog not tamed ya yet then? Maybe you need a real man” he leered at you. You kept your mouth shut; across the room, you could see your kids had finally started to cry, and they reminded you that you had to tread carefully.

“Right, let’s go. Joe, you take the brats to the meetin’ spot. The rest of you, cover up and get your guns ready.” Your kids were picked up roughly by the backs of their shirts and bundled out of the room. You tried to call out to them, to reassure them, but before you could a hand was over your mouth again.

“Naa deary, don’t you be goin’ and callin’ attention to us now.” You swallowed and took a deep breath when the hand was removed. You were cut free and dragged to your feet. Your hand went to your pistol at your side, a movement which was immediately greeted by 5 guns pointing at you and the click of hammers being drawn back. You slowly pulled your hand away, lifting it above your shoulder.

“I was just checking my gun” you said slowly, carefully. “Kinda hard to rob a bank without one.”

There was a pause, until the leader laughed and lowered his revolver, prompting the others to do the same.

“Fair, girly, fair. But know that for every injury we get, one of your precious little kiddies will have the same thing done to it.” Where did Colm even find these bastards? You didn’t exactly run with nice men, but none of them had ever been cruel or stupid enough to threaten a child.

You followed them out the back, desperately hoping to catch any sight of your kids, but they were long gone. As you crept up the side of the bank, you went to pull your bandana up over your face, only to have it ripped off.

“Nice try sweetheart, but we want them to recognise you.” You gritted your teeth; no going back now.

You were pushed to the front, one behind the leader, and stayed behind him as you all burst through the doors.

“Get your goddamn hands up, this is a goddamn robbery! Nobody move!” he shouted. You went into autopilot; this wasn’t exactly your first time robbing a bank. Thankfully there were few customers, and no one was stupid enough to go for any weapons, just got on the ground nice and quick. You recognised the general store owner’s daughter, and you knew she’d seen you too.

“Y/N! Mrs Morgan! Unlock the damn door” the leader shouted as he threw you some keys. He really wanted to make sure you and the gang got the blame for this. You unlocked the door as the terrified teller stumbled backwards in front of you. One of the O’Driscolls pushed past you and grabbed the poor man, striking him and throwing him towards the vault door.

“Open the goddamn vault, open it!” he screamed at him. When the teller didn’t move quick enough, he screamed at him again. “Son of a bitch, too goddamn slow!”. The panicked teller pushed the heavy vault door open and the O’Driscoll kicked him forwards into the vault. You followed - you wanted to prevent him from being killed if you could.

“Open the damn lock boxes!” The O’Driscoll yelled at him, pushing his gun against the teller’s forehead.

“I.. I…. I don’t know the codes! Only the manager does!” You jumped forwards as the O’Driscoll pulled back the hammer of his revolver.

“WAIT! I can crack them, it won’t take long. Don’t kill the poor bastard. It’ll only draw attention to us.”

“Fine, but hurry up!” The O’Driscoll knocked the teller out with a swift hit and instead pointed the gun at you. “Here’s a little motivation for ya” he sneered.

You made swift work of the safes, this was something you’d done many times, and a lot of these small town banks often used only 2 or 3 codes for all their lockboxes anyway. As you emptied each box, you threw the money to the O’Driscoll behind you. As soon as you cleared the last one, you hurried out, following the men out of the bank to some waiting horses. You jumped on behind the leader, clinging to the saddle, concentrating on not falling off as the group thundered out of Valentine. How the hell there was no-one following you, you didn’t know; these dumb bastards weren’t exactly subtle.

You soon slowed down at a small camp, not far away. Your heart leapt as you saw your kids, still tied, but safe; you jumped off the horse and ran to them. You’d only gone a few paces when a rope caught you by the leg, slamming your face painfully into the ground. Before you could turn over, hands were on you, tying your hands behind your back and your feet together, pulling off your gun belt. You struggled, cried out, and saw your kids attempting to do the same, tears once again streaming down their faces.

“Now, girly, you didn’t think we was actually goin’ to let you go did you? Two of our new lads are going to go and hand you in the Sheriff, say they saw you runnin’ away. They’ll probably even get paid” the leader laughed, turning you over.

“You goddamn bastards” you said as you spat in his face. “What are you going to do with my kids!”

“Don’t you worry, we ain’t gonna kill ‘em. Oh no, these two will fetch a pretty penny. We’ll stick ‘em on a train out west, there’s always people needin’ workers that won’t..can’t…. run away. Or there’ll be some rich family lookin’ for replacements.” Your heart almost broke at the thought of never seeing your kids again. It would kill Arthur; he couldn’t lose the children, not again……

You were gagged, tied to a tree and could do nothing as you watched the O’Driscolls ride off with your crying children. Your only consolation was that you knew there were no more trains coming through for one or two days, as a flood had damaged one of the bridges. Maybe there was still a chance…..

A couple of hours passed as two of the men waited with you, as instructed. They laughed and joked, had a drink, thankfully completely ignoring you. It hadn’t taken you long to realise they had neglected to remove the knife strapped horizontally to the back of your trousers; you’d moved it there as soon as the twins were tall enough to grab at it when it was strapped to your thigh.

As quietly as you could, you edged it out of the sheath a small amount, and started to saw at the rope around your wrists. It was not a quick process, and you definitely cut your hands and wrists more often than the rope, but eventually the rope slackened enough for you to free one arm. Your shoulder screamed at you as you levered your arm, hand clutching the knife, from the ropes tying you to the tree. It only took one cut, and you gently lowered the rope to the ground before quickly freeing your feet.

The two men were far too engrossed in some dirty pictures they were showing each other to notice you creeping up behind them. In one fluid movement, you slipped the knife up between the first man’s ribs, directly into his heart, before immediately pulling it out, spinning it and slamming it into the next man’s shoulder. Screaming, he fell to the ground, hand reaching for his gun; as he fell, you pulled the knife out and slammed it into his hand, pinning him down. You were going to take your time with him; you needed information.

You kicked him in the face as his free hand tried to go to the knife; before he had a chance to try again, you pulled his own knife from his belt and drove it through his other hand, leaving him pinned to the ground, spread-eagled, screaming.

“Right. Now you’re going to tell me exactly where you’ve taken my kids, and how many men are there. Otherwise I’m going to start cutting bits off of you; you’d be amazed at how much flesh a man can lose before he dies.”

The man stared up at you, terrified. You’d never felt rage like this, never felt such a strong desire to cause pain.

“If you’re quick about it, I’ll even let you go. You’ll need to hobble, mind.”

Without waiting for a response, you started to yank one of the whimpering man’s boots off, and walked over to his fallen friend to retrieve yet another blade.

“Stop! Stop, please…..” You turned to see he was actually crying; how some of these boys ended up in this life you’d never know. “I’ll tell you! Please…..”

“Hurry up then” you said as you strolled back over, squatting beside his feet, reaching for the one you’d pulled the boot off.

“It’s an old ranch not far from here!” He could barely get the words out, they were so rushed. “It’s our main camp, there’ll be about 30 men.”

“Now that’s what I needed to hear.” You rested the knife on his big toe as he blurted out the rest of the directions. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?” You pressed the blade into his skin, making a small cut.

“NO! Please….there’s…there’s a maxim gun in the barn, in the loft. There’s always someone on a tower near the front, but they can’t see behind the barn.”

“There’s a good lad.” You stood up, sheathing the knife; it was a bit nicer than your one, shame to leave it behind. You walked over to your gun belt, putting it back on, before pulling out your pistol and pointing it at the prone man’s head.

“You said you’d let me go!” he screamed, tears running down his face. It was a pathetic sight. But he’d helped take your kids. And he wasn’t going to get away with it.

“So did you.”

The shot rang out through the woods. You quickly calmed one of the horses, mounted up, and started galloping back towards your camp, making sure to avoid the main road through Valentine. There was still time, still a chance; but you were going to need all the help you could get.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x f reader #arthur morgan fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 x reader #arthur morgan fic #fanfic #my work #red dead redemption 2

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armageddon-generation · 6 years ago

Text

Making an arc out of series 11 (and other fixes)

I DON’T MEAN TO HATE - I genuinely really liked this TARDIS team, Jodie has completely won me over and the episodes not written by Chibnall were great - but this series does have several frustrating Issues.

One recurring problem I see people having is that the finale didn't feel climactic because there was little build up.

A few ways to fix this :

The Woman Who Fell to Earth

Just improve Tim Shaw - alter his design so he’s not just a black robot-man - take the tooth idea and do something like the Sycorax?

Change the ball of electricity into an actual creature - then establish Tim Shaw’s abusive relationship with it, taking out his viciousness on this helpless slave, because he’s a coward

This mster/beasty relationship would give Tim more character and make him easier to hate

It also establishes the running theme of the Stenza altering/controlling other creatures - it gives them a distinctive ‘gimmick’ like Dalek extermination and Cyberman conversion, which we can expand on in The Ghost Monument, The Tsuranga Conundrum and The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos

The Ghost Monument

Establish the threat of the Stenza - ravaged worlds better (show us the flesh eating water instead of telling us about it and have more time with the Remnants instead of those boring robots)

Do this by giving Desolation (which is out of orbit) short, irregular days (5 hours, 3 hours) so the threat of the Remnants is always there - build tension and character at day (the “Mum told me to jump” speech) and have scary chase sequences during the two night sections

The Stenza using Desolation to create weapons of mass destruction reminds the Doctor of the Time Lords' tactics in the Time War, (that's why she's so interested in the planet) and establish that Yaz wants to know what happened to the Doctor's people/family

One of the racers should've had their planet stolen, not just enslaved, to establish the mystery of the planets Tim Shaw is stealing

Show their desperation by having the racers actually compete and fight with each other, with Team TARDIS stuck in the middle. Both characters believe they deserve the prize because they've suffered and lost more.

Yaz separates them, directly paralleling her intro scene in episode 1 - from parking disputes to this.

GIVE 13 HER BIG MOMENT because I waited until literally the last line of the series to understand where she's coming from. 13 is the joyous explorer, she doesn't have time for wallowing in angst, there's too much universe out there to see.

Something like: "It's not about what you've lost, that doesn't make you better than him! All that matters now is what's ahead. What are you going to do if you win, where will it take you? Have you even thought about it? Because maybe, just maybe, if you stopped pitying yourself you could make something good from this. Yes, you're family is gone and I'm sorry. But just because they're dead doesn't mean your life should stop too. Move forward."

This helps Chibnall's 'Fresh Start' mandate because it establishes 13 as completely different from RTD and Moffat's Doctors (especially 10 and 12) who felt a sense of superiority because of their past pain. It also ties into Ryan and Graham letting go of Grace.

The TARDIS went to Desolation in the first place because it wanted to help the planet (remember she has personality) - 13 realises this once they reunite.

We've previously established the TARDIS can change the weather, and it's had thousands of years on Desolation to prepare calculations etc, so have a sequence at the end where they show off to the new conpanions and terraform the planet, reversing the Stenza's damage

Post - credits scene / stinger - while the companions explore the TARDIS, show 13 viewing the footage the TARDIS collected over thousands of years of the Stenza violating the planet - she doesn't look happy, but then Yaz calls her for a tour and she puts on the bright smile again.

Yaz

I think Team TARDIS in series 11 was meant to be split between the familial relationship between Ryan and Graham, with the standard swept-off-her-feet almost-romance between the Doctor and Yaz in the background. They didn't focus on Thasmin much because I think Chibnall assumed 'oh, we've seen this before'

SHOW THE GROWTH OF YAZ AND THE DOCTOR'S RELATIONSHIP. IT SHOULDN'T BE ROMANTIC (YET) BUT JUSTIFY THEIR DEVOTION TO EACH OTHER

Because Yaz is a police officer have her 'investigate' the Doctor's past - especially her family, as that's an important part of her character and theme in the series as a whole. Since Chibnall loves Classic they could mention Susan

This makes 13 telling Yaz about her Granny in It Takes You Away an important milestone in their relationship

Yaz to Ryan about the Doctor's family:

Thirteen's character

People complaining Jodie isn't unique enough kind of have a point, but the seeds are there:

I like the idea of 13 being easily distracted and careless ("I'm almost going to miss you." / "Hi Yaz, forgot you were there."). Her being slow to trust contrasts nicely with Jodie's infectious enthusiasm. Have Yaz's role be keeping 13 focused, grounded and on-track when she needs to be.

Also! I've seen the idea thrown around 13 is only acting all bright and chipper. It'd be really interesting if she prioritises Team TARDIS' emotional wellbeing over her own

This way we have parallel arcs - Yaz gets the Doctor to open up as Ryan gets closer to Graham

13 and her Sonic

13 is meant to be a tinkerer, but we don’t see much evidence of this outside building the Sonic

So she wears a tool belt

The belt is TARDIS-like (bigger on the inside) and 13 pulls things out of it like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag

13 pulls bits of scrap out of the belt and cobbles things together when she’s excited / nervous / talking (pipe cleaner helicopters! Catapults! Wind-up mice!)

This distinguishes her from 11, who also did a lot of hand-flapping and is already superficially similar personality-wise

More floofy/fly-away haired 13! It makes her seem more energetic, constantly in motion, which really suits her.

The popular headcanon is that the Sonic works randomly (one episode it can do things, the next it can’t) because over the years the Doctor has added so many features they’ve overloaded it. So now she’s got a new Sonic, 13 is constantly fiddling with it/adding new features

Address the NuWho Doctors’ over-reliance on the Sonic - 13 keeps expecting the Sonic to do things but because it’s new hardware, it can’t, and she has to solve problems on her own

A running gag where 13 goes ‘watch this, gang’ and the Sonic does something completely opposite what she wanted and now they have to improvise

In the finale the Sonic finally works properly and 13 uses it to beat Tim Shaw

Occasionally (in an episode opening) 13 makes weird machines without knowing what the fuck they do:

13: [holding up a small device] Does this look familiar? Do you know what it is? Neither do I. I made it last night in my sleep. Apparently I used Gindrogac. Highly unstable.

Yaz: Doctor…

13 : I put at button on it. Yes. I want to press it, but I’m not sure what will happen if I do.

Ryan: [runs for cover]

13 and Graham

In Series 11, 13 always seemed annoyed by Graham (“Don’t kill the vibe”) and never seemed to grow past it.

Suggest 13 is living vicariously by helping Graham reconnect with Ryan – the Doctor first started travelling in the TARDIS to connect with their grandchild, so this is 13 coming full-circle

13 notices how good and Granddad Graham is trying to be for Ryan, and as he grows braver she comes to really respect him.

Graham becomes her confidant – he’s the only one 13 shows her age to, and she helps Graham begin again: They talk about how the Doctor has had to reinvent and regenerate themselves again and again because the universe needs them – much as Ryan needs Graham. 13 has lots of experience moving past loss, and they support each other through the pressure of being responsible (for Ryan and Yaz respectively)

Ryan

Have the Doctor and Ryan's relationship develop - in The Woman Who Fell to Earth they suggested 13 would take a nurturing parental role for him ("That's the kind of thing Grace would've said") but it's not really built on. All the pieces are there (him being immature and using weapons in the beginning)

Ryan and 13 have a sibling-like relationship - she teaches him about life and the universe - have 13′s use of slang (skillz with a z) come from Ryan having fun teaching slang to a socially inept alien

also maybe a reccuring joke about Ryan going for a fist-bump and 13 patting his fist, that pays off by the finale

Does anyone remember Ryan and Yaz went to Primary school together? Capitalise on that. When Ryan talks about how his Dad left him in Tsuranga and It Takes You Away, make it explicit that she understands because she saw Ryan go through it as a kid, and remembers what it did to him emotionally

A common complaint about Ryan is that he rarely actually does anything - he just stands there and says "they're gone!" or "it's a spaceship!". So have this be part of his character. In the early episodes have Yaz be the most active companion (allowing her to develop!), with Ryan (nervous about his dyspraxia) in the background, and have him become more and more active and competent as the series goes on.

Episode Order

For this to work I suggest shuffling the episodes - 1, 2, 8, 4, 6, 5, 7, 3, 9, 10

10 60-minute episodes to fit the new stuff in and give the large cast more room. The Woman Who Fell to Earth (60 minutes) was Chibnall's best script.

This way series 11 gets the same screen time as the 12 episode Capaldi series

Instead of 2 trailers for the next episode (one pre and one post credits) insert a post-credits stinger hinting at arcy things

The Witchfinders (We’re Going on a Witch-Hunt)

Swap Rosa and The Witchfinders around. We can get the 'female discrimination' thing out of the way faster (it felt weird they didn't explicitly address it until episode 8). Yaz and 13 can bond over their shared oppression (this is the first time the Doctor realises what history is like for her female companions - for the first time, they are of equal status and must work as a team).

Also have Yaz, the POLICE OFFICER, be personally offended by the miscarriage of Justice in the Witch Trials, and defend the victims - relate it to her experience on the job (maybe touch on domestic abuse?) instead of the cliche bullying story

The villains being escaped convicts from a prison also links to Yaz's character and job - contrast her applying police protocol to the Morax (she never had a case this big at home!) with 13's "fuck it, time to wave the glowy science stick' attitude - Yaz forces 13 to be disciplined, 13 forces Yaz to think outside the box and bend the rules

Arachnids in the UK (Spiders in Sheffield)

Still episode 4 - this needs a complete rewrite IMO, but for starters make the Trump parallel less explicit and cringey

Address Yaz has left her job as a police officer behind - she goes into work (with 13 as her ‘consultant’) and learns about people disappearing - we meet the spider expert at the Police Station, (because Yaz’s neighbour being the only victim AND working in that spider lab was too big a coincidence)

The expert is being ignored because the disappearances are higher priority, so low-ranking Yaz gets stuck with her

The spiders have spread all over Sheffield, not just the one flat and all around Yaz’s building

Have Ryan, Yaz and the Doctor go to meet Yaz’s mum at the hotel while Graham is mourning Grace in their nearby flat

When the spreading spiders reach Yaz’s family, Graham goes to help them, showing how brave 13 has helped him become.

We now have two tension-filled scenarios:

A home invasion subplot where Graham helps Yaz’s family keep the spiders out of their flat. Use this to flesh out and make her sister and Dad likeable - Graham comforts them when they’re scared, calling back to Grace's last line "promise you won't be scared without me" - 13 has helped him!

13 and Co being chased around the hotel (PROPERLY chased - the spiders use webs to cut off corridors and herd them around like rats in a maze)

YAZ GETS TAKEN BY THE SPIDERS - this is the moment 13 realises how attached she is to her new friends. She and Mrs Kahn work together to go and save Yaz from the Spiders’ nest (eliminating that annoying Jackie Tyler “you’re endangering my kid” trope) while Ryan uses his music to draw the spiders away

13 gets to see Mrs Kahn’s maternal affection and we see her desire for family. Ryan’s music draws the Spiders back and saves Graham and Yaz’s family

When Ryan and Graham reunite it’s very emotional - Ryan saved Graham’s life - ‘looking out for each other’

Finally have the Doctor save the Spiders by using the TARDIS as an Ark, instead of leaving them to die - call back to Planet of the Spiders and drop them off there

Since she's at home, once they’ve saved everyone have Yaz do girly things with the Doctor (because they haven't been able to rest since episode 1) - maybe nail painting? Only 13 starts using the varnish as finger paint. Also! I like the idea of them choosing 13's earring together bc 13 has no clue about jewelry

Demons of the Punjab

This should be episode 5, because it's connected to 4 by Yaz's family and together they provide a nice rounding-off of the half of the series more focused on her

The Thijarians have had their planet stolen, not just destroyed (it would still kill everyone)

That way when we see the hologram of what happened to their planet we establish the threat of what will happen to the Earth if Tim Shaw wins in the finale

(the powder they have can still be the stuff left over afterwards)

Also it's weird that Yaz goes to see her Grandmother, who she discovers remarried, and Ryan doesn't react at all.

Ryan has nothing to do in this episode, and because we're putting Punjab earlier in the series, Grace's loss is fresher. Give him a moral dilemma: He wants to go back and see her when she was young (and with her first husband - implicitly rejecting Graham) like Yaz is seeing her Gran

After seeing what happens to Yaz's family, and seeing Graham's caring reaction to Prem, he follows 13's advice and gives up on seeing Grace again - he's content with Graham

He bonds with Yaz over the episode and warns her not to take family for granted. At the end Yaz takes him to meet her Gran in the present day ("I was lucky enough to know yours")

The Tsuranga Conundrum (The Good Doctors)

Have the medical ship be a war ambulance helping victims of the Stenza's conquest

The general on board has fought the Stenza

Cut her brother and the 2nd nurse, they're unnecessary - have the ship be understaffed because of the strain the Stenza are putting on the medical service, give the engineering role to 13

The asteroid field they have to fly through (which we should ACTUALLY SEE) is not just an asteroid field but the wreckage left behind by another missing planet.

Replace the P'ting. It may be cute but the vast majority of people thought it was ridiculous. Instead have it be a Stenza weapon left over as the ship is flying through an old battleground - it can still be small and destroy the ship from the inside out, but its design can be more threatening and it can be more sympathetic (it was experimented on/created to kill, it isn't evil)

13 tries to pilot the ship first but can't because she's wounded. She has to rely on Team TARDIS and delegate the usual ‘Doctor’ roles. She faces off against the tactical P’ting, trying to fix the ship as fast as it disassembles it, while Yaz runs around trying to catch the thing, and Ryan and Graham take care of the passengers

The sonic STAYS BROKEN so 13 has to do this all by hand

Once 13 is told the Stenza are still out there hurting people, introduce a subplot over the next 3 episodes before the finale where she's sneaking off at night to go and help fight them (without the others knowing, because they're too emotionally biased)

The next episodes (Kerblam!, Rosa) gradually shift the focus onto Ryan's growth as he becomes more active

It Takes You Away

Add 13 and Graham - now close friends - talking about grandkids, and put more emphasis on 13′s reaction to the abandoned girl

This sets up the Solitract turning into Susan, the Doctor’s granddaughter, instead of the frog at the end

You don’t require previous NuWho knowledge to know about Susan - she has barely been mentioned.

Have her be played by the actress from An Adventure in Space and Time, like David Bradley as the First Doctor

This way we directly address the theme of grandchildren and family

The Solitract is a link to 13's childhood and family. It's also another omnipotent consciousness she can relate to (think 9 and Bad Wolf - "That's what I feel, all the time!"). Finding that and immediately letting it go must be traumatising

Have a quick scene of Yaz catching 13 crying, but she quickly covers up because Graham just saw Grace and he's distraught

Finale (Battle Phantoms)

When they arrive on the battlefield 13 accidentally reveals she's been helping fight the Stenza offscreen (which is how she knows about this battle - one of the ones she was too late for)

This lie infuriates Graham - she's been blocking his revenge for ages

BIG EMOTIONAL MOMENT

13: Maybe I am a liar, and I promised I wouldn't be, but that's because I know what it's like, Graham. To want to hurt the people who hurt you. How that anger burns like fire, like a supernova. And it took me so long to get over it, so long to move on. Whole lifetimes wasted hurting and hating. I didn't want that to happen to you. No one deserves to be broken twice.

This gives Graham a legitimate reason to go against 13 without announcing his intention to kill Tim Shaw like an idiot. It also plays up 13's hypocrisy, which was touched on in the original script

What was the point of 9 distress calls if they're all in the same place?? Use this pportunity to split team TARDIS up and showcase how they've grown as individuals before bringing them back together (Ryan and Graham, Yaz and 13) for the 3rd Act

Graham being on his own drives up the tension over whether he'll kill Tim Shaw - Ryan gets there just in time

Explicitly call back to the moment in The Ghost Monument when Ryan used a gun - highlight how far he's come because of 13, talking Graham down

Get rid of the robots, because they weren't in The Ghost Monument now, and they turned the intimate story into an action movie.

Over the series we've established the Stenza genetically engineer other creatures into weapons (the Remnants, the P'ting, the cable ball in The Woman Who Fell to Earth). Replace the robots with scary leftovers from the Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos (because that title was irrelevant to the original episode) - Think the Hand Mines from The Magician's Apprentice

Have each of the missing planets throughout the series be named - that way when we discover the stolen planets in the finale there is emotional impact because their being stolen has caused so much suffering.

This way not only are the Stenza a lot more threatening because they are present throughout the series, there is more build up to seeing Tim Shaw again

Also, the subplot about returning the planets is more emotionally impactful - the Doctor is retroactively providing closure to lots of the side characters from the series

Finally the threat to Earth is much greater - the companions have seen what losing your planet does to a person emotionally, and they fear that

WHEN THE EARTH IS THREATENED CALL BACK TO YAZ'S FAMILY SO WE FEEL SOMETHING

Also the continuing thread of missing /lost planets could link to Galifrey, raising 13's emotional stakes

Multiple people have complained the plot thread about the planet attacking you psychically and erasing your memories went nowhere - when 13 and Yaz take those devices off they get slight headaches

Instead have the planet actually attack them - 13 and Yaz have to remind each other of their memories and their families - exposing Yaz to a rare snapshot of the Doctor’s lonely childhood on Galifrey

This gives Jodie the opportunity to do some SERIOUS DRAMATIC ACTING, and finally opening up about Galifrey to the whole TARDIS team at the end gives an emotional climax to her relationship with them, as well as the relationship between Ryan and Graham

The Fam line is cute, but we need ACTION to evidence this growth - this way throughout the series we’ve established how much family means to 13, how much she wants that, and Yaz saying “I’ve always liked fam” means so much because it means she understands 13 as a person

Resolution

Change how the Dalek got split.

Medieval humans killing a Dalek on their own is ridiculous and makes itr less threatening. Instead, have the Dalek be a scout from the Time War, looking to attack Earth to distract the War Doctor. The Doctor, furious, rushes over and helps the human armies divide it, to stop the Time War spreading to his second home.

We’re told this legend by the archaeologists, positioning the Doctor as a vengeful wizard. We can get a flashback with the War Doctor as a dark silhouette on a hill or something.

This makes the “it’s personal” stuff even truer

Use the archaeologists and dig site to expand on the Dalek race’s impact on humanity, because they’ve visited Earth dozens of times. I’m thinking wall paintings depicting the Dalek Shell as a Divine war chariot, and the mutant as a Cthulhu-like God

This way we’re really throwing Team TARDIS in the deep end - they are immediately aware of the number of times the Doctor has fought the Daleks, which is completely different to the rest of series 11, where 13 was encountering everything for the first time

Change the junkyard Dalek shell.

The Scout goes to a storage facility where pieces of its shell are stored. Now this place is owned by the modern incarnation of the cult we’ve set up who worshipped the Dalek in ancient times (their logo is the same symbol found on the wall paintings)

Instead of killing the gay (AGAIN), have the company staff welcome and exult the Dalek - only for it to turn around and kill them all, establishing its racial superiority complex. (This is something Chibnall glossed over - his Dalek wanted to conquer like anyone else, not exterminate)

The company has collected the remains of dozens of different Dalek models from invasions across the show’s history (we still have the parallel to 13 making her Screwdriver)

The Dalek reassembles itself not using Earth metal, but into a Frankenstein’s monster welded together from different Dalek designs (classic 60s, Imperial, Special Weapons, Time War, Supreme, Progenitor)

When the Dalek and 13 face each other this one Scout now represents the entire Dalek race, every type the Doctor has ever fought. The idea of it stitching itself together is also a nice parallel to Regeneration

Destroy the Dalek by separating all the different sections - use Ryan’s dad’s technical skills but don’t have all of Team TARDIS rush the Dalek without getting killed - them pushing it around immediately removed any threat.

Emotional Impact

Seeing the remains of all the Daleks the Doctor has killed at the storage facility and hearing the stories of the War Doctor makes Team TARDIS reconsider 13

Police officer Yaz realises she is devoted to a murderer, and considers whether she wants to get closer to such a person

To make the Dalek more impactful to both Team TARDIS and the new audience that has only watched Series 11, when Graham asks why it’s so dangerous have 13 say something along the lines of “the Daleks are my Stenza”

Graham realises why 13 stopped him killing Tim Shaw in series 11, and (considering his Dad must’ve fought in WW2) gains a new level of respect for her

Don’t have Ryan immediately forgive his Dad and declare that he loves him - set up that he’s willing to give his Dad a second chance as an arc for series 12 - the push and pull between Graham and Ryan reconnecting with his Dad

The Scout is trying to complete its original mission, bringing the Tile War to Earth - 13 has to literally defend her freinds from the ghost of the War and finally let go of her violent past (personified by the War Doctor). She’s also letting go of the deified, Messiah-like version of herself (represented by the wall paintings of the Doctor’s battle with the Dalek) that RTD and Moffat loved

13’s arc is worrying learning about the Daleks and their toxic relationship will change the way her friends look at her, because she’s been trying to protect them from this side of her life (it’s revealed she’s been deliberately avoiding places she’s been before because she’s looking for a fresh start)

By now Ryan and Graham are getting along fine, they’ve avenged Grace’s murder and Ryan is now talking to his Dad. 13 worries everyone has outgrown her, and they’ll leave

Have a scene at the end where Yaz comforts 13 and assures her she won’t abandon her - 13 doesn’t need to save their lives for them to want to travel with her - it’s their job to save her. They are here because they care about her.

This way we get a new emotional climax of 13′s emotional arc and reaffirm the status-quo for Series 12

Improving Matt Smith’s era here

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 6 years ago

Text

Tomorrow Never Came PT. 4

You have one job - travel decades into the past and save your mother from a horrible future. You can’t fail or you’ll have to start over again completely, and you have to act on your own. Already having broken rule number two, a new revelation forces you to reflect on how much impact you’ll truly have, not just on your mother’s life, but on other’s as well.

Read PT. 1 here | Read PT. 2 here | Read PT. 3 here

(a/n: i wish i could have put more deacon in this ksdkfjsd i love him but it felt forced if i put too much in there. anyways big things happening here hehe ok not huge but still wild. im gonna go to a basketball game now pray that the nacho cheese is good bc im craving a walking taco)

“So you were just working and you heard this loud boom? That’s terrible!” Brian exclaimed, leaning forward from between you and John. His abnormally long legs were spread out, leaving you scarcely any room to sit comfortably as the six of you chatted away.

“Yes, it was quite terrifying, really,” Mary practically gushed, leaning over Freddie’s lap as they lounged on the floor together, Freddie’s back against the side of the chair Roger was casually seated in. “There were hundreds of us in there, I’d never learned any protocol on how to handle a bomb threat. Closed us down until a few days ago, the back room was in shambles!”

“Who did it?” you questioned, genuinely curious about who would have a beef with Biba in this day and age. That being said, you also knew this day and age almost purely in textbook definitions and whatever the limited scope of your world had to offer you in the last two months – so basically, you only knew 70’s Kensington.

“Wasn’t it the Angry Brigade?” John chimed in, rifling through a magazine lackadaisically as he spoke. “I think I read that they claimed it in IT.”

“What have they got to be so angry about?” you asked, Roger snorting and letting his head fall back against the chair as he rested a leg on Freddie’s shoulder, quickly getting it brushed off. Giving Freddie a sour look, he hooked his legs over the armrest instead, lazing back in the chair and getting extra comfortable as he began to speak.

“I’d be angry if I had horrid taste in clothing too. Imagine wanting to bomb Biba and thinking ‘Wow, I’m really letting those fashionable fuckers have it! Anarchy!’”

Freddie toyed with Mary’s hair as she draped herself over his lap completely. Smiling at the sweet gesture, you hugged your knees to your chest and rested your chin on your right knee, looking down at the couch in front of you and tugging on a frayed fabric.

“Well, at least you’ve got a job again,” Freddie directed at Mary, who nodded and smiled as she leaned into his hand that was running through her hair.

“And you’ve got a place to come pester me besides my flat,” she added, laughing when Freddie retracted his hand and gave her a resentful glance before crossing his arms. “I’m joking, I love when you come see me at work, lovie! Don’t stop playing with my hair, I like it.”

Rolling his eyes playfully, Freddie sighed before going back to running his fingers through her hair. You were observing their conversation all the while, so when they quieted, you looked up and found that Roger had also been watching them. He looked up and met your gaze, pretending to gag himself with his middle finger and making you laugh as you turned away from him.

“What’s so funny? Surely, it’s not Roger.” Brian’s tone held a sort of faux innocence, but he was clearly prying at Roger’s patience – what was new, though? In the handful of times you’d been around this rag tag group of friends for the past two months, they had tested each other’s patience in every way possible. Yet here everyone was, laughing and having a good time with each other over a couple bottles of cheap wine. You regretted that you didn’t get to spend more time with them – you used overtime hours at the café as an excuse, but you knew that it was mainly because you really didn’t want to cry any harder than you already were going to when you had to return to your actual reality.

“I’ll have you know, Brian, I’m a regular comedian!” Roger protested, taking a sip of his wine as he glared over the rim at the curly-haired giant next to you. “Y/N was laughing at me, in fact. Or maybe it was your pants, who knows?”

Brian looked down at his admittedly hideous trousers, a shitty shade of brown that did not compliment his skin tone well at all. On top of that, they were a horrendous pinstripe pattern, and they didn’t match the striped green jumper he had on. “I’d rather accept that than even entertain the notion that you were remotely funny enough to make anyone laugh.”

“Salty today, Brian?” you asked, giving him a gently nudge with your elbow and receiving a nudge in response as he chuckled, crossing his arms.

Suddenly, Roger was giggling gleefully to himself, playing with a kerchief he’d had around his neck as he seemed extremely amused by it. “Brian,” you thought you’d heard him mumble, and you raised an eyebrow as you watched his snickers intensify, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. He was clearly enjoying something, and you were eager to know what was so funny about what you’d just said.

“Rog, what in the hell are you going on about over there?” Brian asked, doing the dirty work for you as you watched expectantly, Roger’s eyes raising to meet the gazes of both of you.

His cheeks reddened a bit and he nervously let his eyes fall back to his kerchief, fiddling with it. “Nothing, I just thought of something funny.”

“Let’s hear it then,” you encouraged, giving him a smile as he chuckled and glanced at you quickly, giving an almost ashamed smile while he tried to decide whether he should say it or not. He felt anxious, like he was under a microscope suddenly, and he knew that the joke he’d said in his head was cringe-worthy at best. But you looked so insistent and so supportive of him that he finally grumbled and dropped the kerchief to his lap.

“I was laughing because I thought you called him Brine.”

The look on your face faltered as you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. “You thought I called him Brian? Isn’t that his name?”

“No!” Roger whined, Brian cocking his head to the side and making Roger groan as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “I mean, yes, that’s his name! But I thought you called him Brine, like salt water brine, and I laughed because it’s salty and so is Brine. I mean, Brian. Damn it! It’s fucking funny, okay?” He quickly shot up out of his seat, stomping towards the kitchen as you watched, still just as confused as ever, but Brian was laughing.

“You ever notice how much faster he moves when he’s wrong?” Brian noted, and you couldn’t help but laugh as he rose from his seat, following Roger into the kitchen as he refused to pass up an opportunity to keep giving him hell. Today, and only today, Brian seemed to have time to keep up with Roger.

Keeping up with Roger any other day? Now that was a chore. As much as you tried to focus on the sole reason you were here in 1970’s London, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by Roger as an individual. He was an enigma, his motives, knowledge, and way with words completely baffling to you. With people like Brian, it was easy. Brian, although reserved, was very much an intellectual when he spoke, and he always had a sort of predictability to him. Sure, he was a wild man when he’d had a few pints, but not like Roger. Roger was a wild man every single day, and it excited you so much that it simultaneously exhausted you.

You were lulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of the couch sinking down next to you again, and you found that Roger was now seated next to you instead, in the midst of an argument with Brian.

“Brian, you’re just upset because you’re so clearly up your own arse that you can’t understand anyone else’s humor! Get a grip, mate.” Watching Roger, you observed as he glared at the taller man, who sunk down into the chair that Roger had been in just moments ago.

“Or you just have an unrefined sense of humor?” Brian suggested, his voice laced with the slightest bit of animosity as he tried and nearly failed to ignore the “up your arse” comment. When Roger rolled his eyes and began mocking him in a high-pitched, feminine voice, Brian scoffed and looked down at Freddie, who’d been watching the exchange quietly. “What a pathetic display. I’m genuinely ashamed God made me a man.”

“Yeah, well I don’t think God’s doing a lot of bragging either!” Roger spit back, fire practically shooting out of Brian’s eyes as his head whipped up so he was staring at Roger.

“You fucking wanker! You’re just showing off and trying to be all funny because Y/N is here,” Brian accused, his usually gentle hazel eyes brimming with hostility. Your eyes widened at the tension that settled between the two of them, a heavy weight in the air as you desperately looked at Freddie for some help. Freddie just shrugged, though, offering no assistance and pretending to ignore the petty argument as he braided a small section of Mary’s hair.

“Um, should I go?” you asked, pointing at the door as you glanced between Brian and Roger. Obviously, this tiff had something to do with you, and while you had no idea how, you figured it was best for you to just let them figure it out. Rising to your feet, you tugged your pajama shorts down before grabbing your glass of wine and padding off to Roger’s room as Roger yelled at Brian once again.

“Now you’ve done it, you big moron. You’ve scared our roommate out of her own room! God, you’re really something, Brian.”

Snickering at the fiery words, you shook your head and entered Roger’s semi-messy room, crossing over to the window and curling up in one of the two beanbags situated next to it. Tucking your legs underneath you, you sipped your wine and stared out at the twilight sky, a creamy semidarkness to the horizon that framed the city’s buildings. You could just see the outlines of the church across the street, which made you scowl as you imagined your mom’s haggard face, her head leaning back against that damned rocking chair, just sitting there motionlessly. “Fucking prick,” you muttered, the fleeting thought of your father and the two men from the church poisoning your thoughts, a bitter reminder of your current purpose.

“Yeah, Brian can be a bit of a headcase, but he’s alright sometimes.” You jumped as you suddenly heard Roger’s voice behind you, and you turned to look at him as he crossed the room and stood opposite of you, leaning against the window frame.. “Definitely a fucking prick, though.”

“Oh,” you breathed out softly, furrowing your eyebrows as you pushed all of your previous thoughts out. “Yeah, he’s mental. Funny guy, though.”

“Don’t say that,” Roger groaned, giving you a small grin before he looked out the window as well. “Fred wants you back out there. Says he’s got an announcement.”

“I suppose I better bless the room with my presence then, huh?” you teased, Roger chuckling and pulling you to your feet before letting you lead the way. As you exited his room, he tried and failed to ignore the way your pajama shorts were riding up, just revealing the curve of your ass beneath it. Catching his tongue between his teeth, he had a brief ‘Lord help me’ moment before it was ended all too soon by your hand reaching down to tug the shorts back into their original place again.

Following you out to the main room again, Roger resumed his spot on the couch next to you as Deacon chatted with Mary politely, quieting down when he realized everyone was there again. Brian shifted uncomfortably in the chair, avoiding looking at you or Roger as he waited for Freddie, who was now in the kitchen, to speak.

“Now that we’ve decided to take the band more seriously, I figured I should start taking myself more serious now too.” Freddie walked out with an envelope of things, pulling out what looked like a passport and handing it to Brian, then pulling out a few sketches and handing them to Deacon, who marveled at the artwork as Brian looked up at Freddie. There was an amused look on his face, and you listened curiously as they spoke while you sipped your wine.

“Mercury? Like our song?”

“Freddie fucking Mercury. Doesn’t that sound delightful?” You choked on your sip of wine, turning beet red as they all glanced at you. This was news. Freddie Bulsara was actually Freddie Mercury, standing right here in front of you, your roommate and closest friend for two months, and you’d had no idea. “Well, if you didn’t like it dear, you could have just said so!” Freddie laughed, handing you a paper towel so you could wipe the wine off of your nose.

You laughed nervously with him, cleaning yourself up as you stared up at him, still floored at this development. “Just went down the wrong pipe,” you replied quietly, in awe at the living legend who’d just handed you a paper towel because you were a moron who didn’t put two and two together for actual months. If that was Freddie Mercury, then this must be Queen. It had to be Queen.

Your suspicions were confirmed as Deacon handed the sketches over to Roger, who ooh’ed and aah’ed at them as he eyed the details. There was the Queen crest, and you felt dizzy as you realized how blind you’d been all this time. You were casually rooming with two rock legends and you thought you’d just been slumming with a few students that had side gigs as musicians.

“Mercury seems like a bit much, but then again, you are a bit much,” Brian taunted, Freddie tossing a pillow at him as he sat back down again, chuckling.

“Well, as some illustrious person once said, ‘You can tell a lot about a man by his name.’”

“You just made that up, didn’t you?” Brian asked, raising an eyebrow at Freddie, who laughed once again.

“Maybe. But I do stand by it, honest!”

It all made sense now. Your mom had been a huge fan of these guys – you, not so much, for you were admittedly out of touch with the 80’s and 70’s. But you very vaguely knew about them, and of course, the two remaining members were still bigshots as far as your country was concerned. John Deacon, the bass player who’d dropped off the face of the Earth in the 90’s, lounging at the end of the couch. Brian May, the guitar legend who’d once played on top of Buckingham, squinting at Freddie’s passport and turning it in his hands. And next to you, ogling at the newly designed logo for his band, Roger fucking Taylor, a legend as far as drumming was concerned and one hell of a singer from what your mom had said.

You’d never asked him about the band or about the name. You really had thought they’d just been playing in pubs for fun, which at this point, they might very well be. And you’d never been around to hear them practicing or talking about the band – you’d been too busy in your own little world of the café and the church that you hadn’t paid any mind to their musical work. Now, you realized that you very well should have.

“You want to have a look?” Roger suddenly asked, grabbing your attention again as he offered you the papers, which you accepted shakily. It felt like your head was spinning as you stared down at the iconic crest, the two lions that framed the crown and letter Q, which was topped by a crab. Two fairy women stared up at the Q from below, and a phoenix stole the show at the top of it all, encompassing the entire work and bringing it all around into one big individual crest.

“Don’t hog it, I want to see,” Brian complained, and Roger rolled his eyes as you took a deep breath and handed it to Brian, who switched you for the passport. There was Freddie, long hair, clean-shaven face. This was not the iconic Freddie photo you knew. You only knew Freddie from the mustache, from the unique voice. This was a young Freddie, an inexperienced Freddie – this was not the same rock legend that your mom adored back in the present.

Oh, God. “I need some air, I’m getting a bit overheated,” you murmured, handing off the passport to Roger, who glanced at you curiously before looking over the document with Deacon. Excusing yourself, you tiptoed back to Roger’s room and opened the window, leaning out as your heart sank in your chest, heavy with the weight of what you knew.

Freddie Mercury was dead long before you’d even been born. AIDs had prematurely ended his life, his career, and that was something that even you knew. A man you considered to be one of your best friends as of currently would be dead in 20 years, and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t stay here for a whole two decades, monitoring Freddie, keeping him out of harm’s way. Who knew how he’d contracted the horrible disease? It could have been anything at any time. And that killed you inside.

On the other hand, you had to watch yourself. This was literally Queen you were talking about here - if you meddled any more than you currently were, who knows what kind of shit could happen to the band? How big of an impact were you going to have here? Anything you say could alter their path irreversibly. If it was bad enough, you’d have to restart your mission completely, setting you back months in your progress already. God, this is some Butterfly Effect-type shit. I miss Brooklyn 99 and not having an existential crisis every time I make a choice.

“Freddie asked me to bring this to you, I figured you’d be in here again.” Roger’s voice once again interrupted your train of thought, and you sighed as you waved listlessly at the floor next to you, leaving your head resting on your other arm in the window frame. “You alright? You’re not gonna keel over on me, are you? ‘Cause I’d prefer if you bit the big one in Freddie’s room.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed weakly, sliding back into the room and dragging yourself onto one of the bean bags as you picked up the refilled wine glass that he’d brought you. When you looked up at him, he shrugged and took a seat across from you, his legs tangled with yours in the small space. “Sorry for being a party pooper. Just have a lot on my mind, and I’m tired.”

“Well, you are working a lot,” Roger remarked, a worried expression crossing his face as he crossed his arms. He was undeniably gorgeous, even in the dark. The streetlights coming in from the window highlighted his face in a way that made his cheekbones seem even more prominent, his jawline sharper than usual, casting an angular shadow on his neck. Light played around in his eyes, making them paler but just as striking as he observed you with a concerned eye. “Maybe you should take some time off, you’ll catch your death if you don’t relax a bit.”

His words were sinfully calming to you, and you beat yourself up inside as you sipped at your wine glass, tearing your eyes away from his irresistible gaze to look out the window at the now-night sky. “No, I need to focus on work,” you murmured, an uneasy look passing over your face as you avoided his piercing gaze, refusing to falter. You had to focus. Your mom’s livelihood was in your hands. “It’s too important.”

“Are you not important too?” he questioned, making your heart race. You couldn’t help yourself – you met his gaze once more, chewing on your lip as the intimidating stare seemed to try and pick you apart, piece by piece. He was worried about you - this meant he was genuinely attached to you, and that terrified you. But you couldn’t help yourself once again - you had to pry.

“I don’t know. Am I?”

PT. 1 PT. 2 PT. 3

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EDIT: HI IM SORRY I FUCKED UP THE LAYOUT ON MOBILE I LITERALLY HATE TUMBLR MOBILE WITH MY WHOLE BEING HAHAHAHAA FUCK

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tbehartoo · 6 years ago

Text

Surprise Party!

Happy Birthday @seasonofthegeek! You always gift us so many wonderful stories, THANK YOU! Hope you like getting some stories on this special day

Characters (in order of appearance): Alya, Marinette, Nino, Adrien

Rating: General audiences- This is so much fluff!

Summary: Alya is hoping to give Nino the best surprise for his birthday this year

“Thanks for helping me with this, Mar-Bar,” Alya said as she added another flower to the cupcake in front of her.

“No problem Allie-Cat,” Marinette replied as she finished the leaves on Alya’s previous cupcake. “I haven’t had time to help with a baking project in awhile.”

“I thought you dropped by your parent’s place just the other day?”

“Yes, but it was just to invite them to Emma’s dance recital on Thursday,” she said with a sigh. “I didn’t really have time to do more than invite them and then run out to go pick up Louis from his gymnastics and grab Hugo from the groomer.”

Alya laughed. “I still can’t believe that you insisted on getting all three of those names in your family so much that you had to name the dog Hugo.”

Marinette frowned at her friend for a moment. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re kidding right?” Alya pitched her voice high and began to flutter her eyelashes. “And then Adrien and I will get married, have three kids: Emma, Louis, and Hugo, and maybe a hamster.” She looked at her friend and arched one brow, “Sound familiar?”

Marinette was stunned for a minute then broke out into a huge laugh. “I totally forgot all about that.” She was thoughtful. “I guess that’s why I didn’t fight Adrien when he wanted to name Louis after his mother’s father?”

Alya snorted as she passed her cupcake to Marinette and picked up another one to start putting the decorations on the top.

“Besides, Hugo just looks like a Hugo,” she said in defense.

Alya nodded. “That’s true. I can’t imagine him having any other name.”

They worked in comfortable silence for several minutes.

“What time will your parents be bringing the kids back from the movie?” Alya asked.

Marinette looked at the clock.

“They’re supposed to be done by 1:30, but then you have to figure in some extra spoiling time for Pelée. So probably 2:30?”

“They don’t have to do that you know,” Alya said frowning in concentration as she added another rose.

“I know it, and they know it, but you just have to face facts,” Marinette said and smiled at her friend. “Every child that comes within a five foot radius is now considered their grandkid.”

“I blame Nathaniel for that,” Alya replied. “Him and Luka showing up at the bakery with their adorable new baby, nearly in tears after Nath’s mother just shut the door on them, and then thinking that your folks weren’t going to do something about it.”

“I’m sure they just thought my parents would coo over their little one and offer a slice of cake on the house,” Marinette chuckled. “They should have known better than that.”

“I still can’t believe it was your mom that nearly knocked his parent’s door down and dragged them to the bakery to introduce them to ‘her’ new grandchild! And then almost stuffed Nath’s dad in the oven when he used that slur in her presence.”

“I think dad would have done it, but he was holding the baby and there’s no way he was putting him down anytime soon.”

Alya teared up a little. “I really love those people, you know.”

“I kind of guessed it when you made Pelée’s middle name Sabine and Maleek was given Thomas for his.”

“I guess that is something of a clue,” Alya chuckled.

There was silence as each woman thought back on the past and the role that Tom and Sabine played in their lives.

“So when is everyone else going to be here?” Alya asked.

“Well Luka and their lot will be here exactly at 2:37,” Marinette began.

“So five o’clock for the art colony,” Alya said knowing that between the artist and his husband, the musician, the concept of “on time” was a lost cause.

“Yeah,” Marinette said arranging the cupcakes into a tasty looking bouquet. “And Chloe and Alix are supposed to be here around three.” Marinette looked at the arrangement and switched the position of two cupcakes. “Bridget should be here any minute, but Félix won’t be able to come until he gets off work. Your parents are picking up the twins from university and then they’ll be here about three-ish. I haven’t heard back from Nora, so who knows with her. Nino’s parents are planning on picking Ysabel up at the airport right about now, so they should be here in half an hour? Maybe longer?” She started filling in the spaces between cupcakes with green frosting shaped like leaves. “And of course, Adrien is taking his job of distracting Nino until four o’clock very seriously. He’s already taken Nino to a fancy four-course lunch, shopped for party decorations, and they’re,” she looked at her most recent phone message, “looking at various steam cleaners they could rent to clean the rug,” she looked back at her phone, “but he just realized that should have been done a couple of days ago if the carpet is going to be dry in time for the party.” She looked at Alya. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell him that you’ve moved the party here so Nino can stop freaking out?”

Alya giggled and shook her head. “It’s the only thing I could do to surprise him for his birthday! Over the years I’ve tried so many ways to surprise him and it never works. Organizing parties on the down low? He always finds out at least a week before! I’ve tried hiding presents, giving him candles that don’t go out, gag gifts, a no birthday-birthday (sadly he really liked that one) everything I can think of to surprise him, but it never works. This time I might have gotten him!”

She sighed when Marinette’s phone pinged again. “It’s getting hard on him since he thinks we still have to clean up the more public rooms for this party, that I let him plan, and decorate, and get the food ready, and put the drinks to chill.”

“Oh that reminds me,” Mari said as she put the finishing leaf on the cake bouquet. She put the decorating bag into the bowl in the sink. “Help me get the tub down for the drinks?”

Alya grabbed the step ladder and followed Marinette into the walk-in pantry.

“I had to turn my phone on silent because it’s getting hard to ignore his texts,” she said as she climbed up to be able to reach the metal tub used at every gathering. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to want to erase those before I see them.”

Marinette nodded as she took the article. “He’s sent me a couple of texts to ask you to turn your phone back on. I’m afraid I’m throwing you under the bus here because I told him I passed on your message, but that you’re not speaking to him right now,” she said and grinned when Alya stuck out her tongue in her direction.

“That’s fine, but tell him we need more ice,” she started to cackle. “I always send him for ice at the last minute. And he knows that I won’t accept it from anywhere but my ice store.”

“How do you know he actually goes there?” Marinette asked. “I mean it’s half way across the city.”

“Well, first of all he has to show me a receipt,” Alya said. “And you best believe I check the date and time. Second, if I think it was too fast then I’ll check the trace I have on his phone, which he knows has to be on or I will send him to go again while I get rid of the inferior ice. Third, is something I only did at the beginning when he was testing my sincerity over how serious I take my ice. I call the shop and talk to the clerks. I know all of them and their loyalty is to me not Nino. So if I ask about him being there they’ll confirm or deny his story as the case may be. Oh, maybe I should call right now so they can pass along a message for me?” She looked at Marinette who was shaking her head.

“Alya, no,” she moaned.

“Alya, yes!” she countered.

“It’s a good thing you two love each other,” Marinette said as she started loading juice and sodas into the tub.

Alya just grinned as she called the convenience store to leave her message for Nino. Then she allowed that the inferior ice in Marinette’s freezer could be used to chill the drinks, but insisted on making a sign warning everyone not to use the ice.

Marinette got her friend paper and markers as she checked that they were ready for the party. Soon guests were arriving and presents began to pile up. With one text Marinette let Adrien know that Nino could be put out of his misery. Ten minutes later Adrien and Nino’s voices could be heard through the door.

“But dude if we’re only going to be a minute,” the sarcasm was thick for the last five words,”why should I bring in the ice?”

“Because it’s kind of hot out there and if you are missing too much of Alya’s precious ice we’ll have to go back and get more?” Adrien replied.

“Good point,” was the response as Adrien’s key was turning in the lock.

“Surprise!”

Nino was stunned. Adrien gently took the ice from his unresistant hands as Pelée and Maleek dashed to their father shouting “Happy Birthday!” at the top of their lungs.

Others came forward to hug and wish Nino a happy birthday, but Alya was suspiciously absent. Nino came alive in the embrace of his family and friends. It wasn’t until everyone who was there had given him hugs, kisses, and or fistbumps that Alya appeared in front of him.

“Are you mad?” she asked quietly, a little repentant for what she’d put him through.

Nino reached out and pulled her into a tight hug.

“How can I be mad when you’ve managed to get the most important people in my life into one room?” He eased back on the hug, but didn’t let her go. “And they’re here because they want to celebrate another year we’ve had together.” He brushed the hair out her eyes so that he could gaze at her. “This is the best birthday present I could ever have received,” he said with a huge smile.

Alya pulled him into a searing kiss which was only broken when Maleek came and demanded to be picked up.

After that, music was turned up, food was eaten, and a good time was had by all.

“Happy cake!” Maleek demanded.

“Yes, it’s time for happy cake little man,” Adrien said as he brought out the bouquet now lit with candles all over the sphere of cupcakes.

Nino demanded that Pelée and Maleek get to help him since he couldn’t possibly blow all the candles out in one go. It turned out that he couldn’t do it with two very enthusiastic helpers either. (Adrien had kindly switched out the candles for ones that wouldn’t go out.)

Once the cupcakes were demolished Nino was seated in a comfy chair to open presents. Pelée helpfully brought each present to him while Maleek was kind enough to help him open them. Alya was mostly on wrapping paper duty, but she also helped when a present was too heavy for her daughter to safely move.

Finally they were down to one present. It was a slim box that normally would hold a bracelet or perhaps a watch, with a large golden bow on top.

“This one’s from Mommy,” Pelée told Nino as she crawled up into his lap to sit opposite of Maleek.

Nino glanced up at Alya’s worried face before saying, “Well then I’m sure I’m going to love it.”

The box creaked open and the whole room seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

Nino just stared at the gray, plastic wand and the word it was flashing in the results window. With a whoop of delight he swept his children up into a hug and turned them around. Then he set them down so that he could hug Alya. Then he pulled the little ones back in a family hug.

“We’re getting another baby!” he called to the room of perplexed watchers.

The entire room exploded in cheers. Soon everyone was surging forward to offer their congratulations.

Nino kept one arm around Alya and tried to keep a hand on the head of one of the children until they managed to escape to ask Auntie Nette for more treats.

“I take it you like your present?” Alya whispered in his ear between Alix’s handshakes and Tom’s crushing hug.

“It was the only thing that could have topped this surprise party,” he answered truthfully. He smiled as he kissed her cheek. “Have I ever told you that I just love my birthday present?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to hear it again,” she replied as she booped his nose.

He leaned in again to kiss her and then whispered, “I love that you are my birthday present.” He gently nuzzled her hair. “You’ve given me the most wonderful family and I am blessed to share this adventure with you.” He gently placed a hand on her abdomen. “I can’t wait to meet our next great treasure.”

Alya put her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his. “Happy birthday, my love,” she practically sighed.

“Yes, yes it is,” he whispered back.

#miraculous ladybug #Alya Cesarie x Nino Lahiffe #@seasonofthegeek's birthday present #hope it fits #I kept the receipt in case you need to return it

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jhalya · 7 years ago

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Undertow - pre-mission interludes

Well, initially, I was going to work these in the next chapters, but they didn’t really fit, so yeah, here they are. Pre-mission shenanigans during the 5 year training period with the gang.

Interlude 1 - The Date

Zen’s reviewing mission reports from his brother when Kiki walks in, sits down and taps her Louboutins to the rhythm of Zen’s day going down the drain.

‘So how’d your date with Shirayuki go?’

‘Christ, Kiki, could you not? It was an outing.’

‘Okay, so how did your outing with Shirayuki go? Did you kiss?’

Zen wants to give an intelligent answer, a clever quip to get back the upper hand in this rather unfair situation, but instead what he comes up with is: ‘Y-yes.’

The Louboutins are merciless.

‘And? Did the gates of heaven open? Did angels sing?’

Well, they had for Zen, but Shirayuki had just stared at him like he’d gone mad.

‘Zen, I - I…’

And then disaster struck.

‘Zen! Miss!’

He would never forget the look on Shirayuki’s face when she spotted Obi and Torou of the skimpiest dress imaginable. She looked like someone had gutted her.

And then, Torou had zeroed in on Shirayuki with a grin that would put a shark out of business.

And then - really, Zen was not nearly drunk enough to be making this shit up - Torou had just dragged Shirayuki away, by the hand, with an incomprensible ‘Kid. I think I’ll have my dinner now.’

Obi had just called ‘Have fun’ after them and looked at Zen like it was just another night at the bar. Zen had just stared right back.

‘So. You and mission analyst Torou?’ Why does no one ever tell him anything?

‘Yeah’, Obi shrugged. ‘I wanted a quiet night and Torou likes looking at the pretty girls in their Canaveral pick-me-ups.’

Wait, what?

‘Wait, then Torou and Shirayuki…’ Zen was about to experience his umpteenth breakdown, he could just feel it. He’d felt like he’d fucked this up beyond…

‘Relax, Shirayuki’s safe with Torou. Torou’s a beast. She’ll skullfuck any man who’d dare mess with the Miss if she thinks it’ll make her look cool. Honestly, Zen, you worry too much. And about Shirayuki, of all people. Miss’s got grit.’

Zen’s breakdown had morphed into a headache so he didn’t necessarily mean to say it but it had just come out as he was massaging his temples: ‘You know, you’ve said Shirayuki’s name more in the last 5 minutes than you have in the last 5 years.’

‘I wonder.’

Zen had looked up at Obi and there was a tenseness there his friend only showed when things like ‘redacted files’ came into play. And then he smiled and it was just Obi, his best friend.

‘Come on, first round’s on me. What were you guys doing here anyway? Did Miss brief you on the changes in security protocols down at Lyrias?

She had. Extensively.

‘That’s some pretty amazing shit considering Wistal was practically a tin can. I mean, the nanowalls alone must’ve...Zen?’

‘Zen?’

Zen groans.

‘Shirayuki is a wonderful person, but we both decided that we’re better off as friends.’

Kiki looks thoughtful.

‘Did she say that?’

‘Yes, Kiki, she verbalised her intentions. Or lack thereof.’

Really, he doesn’t need Kiki to quiz him on executive command protocols.

‘In another world, Zen, you guys would’ve been great. In this one, you are our mission Commander and the best man for the job. Shirayuki knows that. We all know that.’

Finally, Zen thinks of the perfect comeback line.

‘Well, it’s about time you acknowledged the superiority of the Navy.’

Kiki wrinkles her nose.

‘When I’m in danger of drowning on Mars, I will.’

‘Weak.’

‘Who’s flying you to Mars, again?’

‘The computer.’

‘Okay, I’ll just let Obi know you said that.’

‘Wait, Kiki, no!’

Interlude 2 - The Distraction

He doesn’t remember when it first started. Lunch break was practically sacrosanct down at the office. But ever since the roster for the Olin Maris mission got pinned to the corkboard, Obi’d found himself having very little in common with the other astronauts - he had minimal interest in lunar shifts and no one knew what the hell Miss was on about in her email briefings.

So true to the old adage of if you can’t beat’em, join’em, Obi had ended up spending his lunch breaks in the office the Miss and Little Ryuu had turned into a lab. Plus, at the beginning, Zen had harangued him about team dynamics and Kiki had used those poshy terms like team bonding that made him gag just as much as it made Doc Seiran roll her eyes.

So technically, Obi reasoned, he was following orders.

But it hadn’t been that bad. He found the little guy’s deadpan humour hilarious and the Miss was riveting company. After four and a half years, Obi owed her a fortune in broken lab equipment. Funny thing was, Obi knew how to handle delicate instruments - Miss dropped hers around him like she’s got grease on her hands - and hadn’t that particular joke ruined a perfectly working still.

So now Obi was used to them and they were used to him. He belonged - even if Little Ryuu often treated him as a piece of unruly furniture. Hold this. Pass me that. Stop touching the Chem machine. Shake this - with vigour, Obi. Perhaps with less vigour now.

There weren’t many surprises during lunch time in the lab - which was fine by Obi. Variety was the spice of life and all that but watching Shirayuki be brilliant every God given day was glorious in its predictability.

Today, however, was Tuesday. Tuesdays were always funky and Little Ryuu had been eyeing him curiously all afternoon. The simulator was undergoing maintenance and Zen had that Not today, Obi aura swirling madly around him. He’d thought he’d be safe in the lab. Miss was wearing protection gear when he walked in so he’d whistled extra loud. He got a asthmatic grunt in response so that was all good.

Ryuu, on the other hand, was downright ogling him.

‘Have I got like ketchup on my jumpsuit?’

‘No.’

Okaay. Obi swirled in the wheely chair for a bit, checked to make sure Shirayuki hadn’t set herself on fire, picked the pickles from Ryuu’s sandwich because the little guy didn’t like them and the delivery guy always messed his order and got looked at some more.

‘Alright, out with it.’

‘What do you wish to take out, Obi?’

He really tried not to laugh, he always did, but the little guy was so damn funny.

‘Well, it just seems to me that you are taking an unusual interest in my persona today.’

‘It started last night, actually.’

In the immortal words of Mitsuhide: ‘Well, I’m all agog.’

‘I am simply trying to ascertain the veracity of the claim.’

‘Whoa, don’t let the ‘agog’ thing fool you - I only got like two words out of that. What claim?’

‘Are you aware that there is a top 3 sexual fantasies featuring astronauts poll going on down at O’Malleys?’

‘O’Malleys?! Who the hell took you to O’Malleys?’

Obi will find them. Words will be spoken. He knows where Miss keeps her acids. He’ll be long gone - to fucking Mars - before they put two and two together.

Ryuu is not phased though.

‘You won, by the way. Well, you and Izana.’

This is not happening.

‘Apparently, the most popular fantasy among the clientele is a threesome featuring you and Commander Wistalia. Personally, I do not see the attraction though. Can you imagine?’

Obi would really rather not.

‘All that… bickering. Nothing would ever get...done. Unless, I suppose, if you’re into that. Hm.’

God, Obi cannot leave this planet fast enough. His baby Ryuu… they got to him too.

‘Shirayuki. Your worktable is on fire.’

Miss squeaks and rushes for the fire extinguisher.

Obi doesn’t even lift his head from his hands anymore.

‘Miss. We talked about this. No fires allowed in space.’

#undertow #I find myself writing these to get back in the game #this is the most I've written in years #told you this was going to mushroom out of control #obiyuki #the martian AU #interludes

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welllpthisishappening · 7 years ago

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Concussion Protocol (1/1)

She doesn’t see it at first. And, somehow, that’s even worse. Because the replay is in slow motion and they keep showing it and Roland won’t stop yelling and Henry won’t stop cursing and Emma’s going to do damage to her thumb if she keeps slamming it against her phone.

He doesn’t play the entire third period.

And Emma keeps tugging on her ring. Ruth keeps staring.

Rating: Teen’like with swearing and hockey-type injuries Word Count: 8K’ish. Adjectives. Emotions. AN: So about a month ago @onceuponaprincessworld requested “What happened in November with Killian, did he got hurt and have a concussion? Is there gonna be a one-shot about it?” This is the one-shot! It helped that the Rangers were playing while I wrote this last night. The game bears a striking resemblance to last night’s loss in Nashville. I’m not bitter. It’s fine. Anyway, I’ll keep writing about this stupid hockey team forever, particularly if you guys keep sending prompts and questions and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate both. Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll

“You know you’re on some kind of point streak?” Killian lifted his eyebrows, mouth curling into something that almost looked like a smile and Mary Margaret threw a pot on the floor. He laughed when Emma jumped.

“Oh, c’mon,” Emma grumbled. “That was terrifying. She’s going to do damage to the linoleum in her kitchen.” “That’s not even remotely true,” Mary Margaret muttered and Emma made some kind of triumphant noise, as if that proved she was being eavesdropped on. “Hi, Killian! Hi everyone else in the locker room!”

“Hi, Mary Margaret,” Killian grinned, eyes flicking to the top of the phone screen when Emma audibly gagged. “That’s just being polite, Swan. I don’t know why you want me to ignore Mary Margaret when she’s feeding you all weekend.” Emma rolled her eyes, slumping into the corner of the couch and it was just as uncomfortable as it had been when she’d been sleeping on it.

She’d slept like crap the night before, tucked under blankets with a pillow she brought from home and she didn’t mention that to Killian, but he probably knew anyway. And the NHL seemed determined to keep the Rangers on the road for Thanksgiving.

Roland was incredibly disappointed.

Emma might have been too.

Emma absolutely was disappointed.

But it wasn’t really a western swing, more just a three-game trip to Dallas Las Vegas and Arizona and front office didn’t think it was prudent to send her.

It made Emma roll her eyes every time she thought about it.

And Mary Margaret had resolutely refused to accept even the idea of Emma spending a single moment of her weekend alone – so she’d gone a dozen blocks uptown on Wednesday night and slept on the couch and woke up early to watch the parade with fancy hot chocolate and a questionable amount of homefries and they’d made pumpkin pie.

David wouldn’t eat the one with rum in it until after his mom went back to the hotel.

That made Emma roll her eyes too.

“Ok, that’s just patently incorrect,” Emma said, wincing when the arm of the couch seemed intent on dislocating her spine. “I am perfectly capable of feeding myself throughout the weekend. And you don’t get to make a single comment about my food intake when I know for a fact that Scarlet tried to eat fried onions out of a can yesterday.”

Killian’s eyes went wide, the sound of Will’s laugh echoing through the phone and, likely, off the walls of the visitor’s locker room in Arizona. “How do you know that?” Killian asked. “Also I refuse to take responsibility for that. I am not Scarlet’s father.”

“God forbid.” “Swan. Honestly.” “You really can’t let Ruby know anything,” she smiled and the look on his face did something to her pulse. “Or help you plan some kind of Thanksgiving feast in a hotel room.” “It wasn’t quite a feast,” Killian argued. “More just a questionable amount of us stuffed into one room and Lucas demanding several types of alcohol we aren’t really supposed to be having.”

“Troublemakers.”

“And,” Mary Margaret added, dropping onto the arm of the chair and barely missing Emma’s hair. “If Ruby wants to consume a questionable amount of alcohol then she should have waited until she got home.” Emma’s eyes were going to sustain permanent damage from constant rolling. Killian might actually injure himself from laughing.

“How much rum went into the pie this year?” he asked, voice still shaking lightly and Emma wasn’t sure what she was doing with her face, only that he noticed.

Figured.

She should have demanded a spot on the road trip. If Ruby got to go, she should have gone. That didn’t make any sense at all.

She should have come up with some kind of fan event. About Thanksgiving. In Phoenix. And a team that hadn’t won more than ten games all season.

Mary Margaret bit back her knowing smile and, eventually, Emma would have to thank her for that, certain Ruby wouldn’t have stopped herself from voicing several different opinions on pie and rum and the way Emma’s entire expression changed as soon as Killian used the phrase this year out loud.

Like it was some of tradition or something.

She needed more rum-filled pie.

“A ton,” Mary Margaret answered when she realized Emma was having some kind of life-changing realization in the corner of her couch. “But that was mostly because you guys were on the PK and Emma kept running back to the TV to yell and forgetting how much she’d already put into the mix.”

Emma couldn’t really slump down the couch anymore – she was an adult human being, after all – but she certainly made an attempt, flush rising in her cheeks and the back of her, likely, bruised neck.

She was going to punch Killian as soon as he landed in New York.

That face was stupid and attractive and stupid attractive and he kept staring at her like several different words she was, maybe, willing to acknowledge.

“You were making pies while we were playing, Swan?” he asked and Emma was, at least, eighty-two percent positive she heard Will cackling somewhere.

She nodded. “Eric had some kind of private event and I think A was actually really mad because it broke a record or something of watching away games, but then Regina reminded her that meant she didn’t have to come into the city and that ended that conversation. So, yeah, there were pies made a few hours earlier than normal.” “Going off schedule, love, I’m impressed.” “Oh, shut up.”

Will made another noise in the background and Killian ran his hand through his hair, rolling his shoulders in a way Emma had come to notice meant something important. He was thinking and pondering and he really was on some kind of crazy point streak.

It was a sidebar in The Post that morning.

“And,” Emma added pointedly. “It wasn’t so much my decision to go off schedule as it was trying not to be too worried about your shitty penalty kill.” “That is unfounded criticism, Emma,” Will shouted. Killian shook his head, glaring when an arm worked its way into the frame and tried to tug his phone out of his hand.

“Get the hell out of here, Scarlet,” Killian hissed. He couldn’t really keep his balance on the bench in front of his locker, only one of his skates on, but he tried to kick at Will anyway.

He nearly fell in his locker.

“God damnit, both of you,” Robin sighed, joining the fray with a put-upon look on his face and Emma wasn’t sure who laughed louder, her or Mary Margaret. “Cap can you please put your skates on? There is an actual game to play here.”

“I am doing that,” Killian muttered, but he didn’t move towards the left skate, just kept staring at his phone screen with wide eyes and some attempt at telepathy that Emma nearly understood.

She smiled.

“Emma is making sweeping generalizations about our penalty kill,” Will said. He kicked Killian’s skate closer, elbowing his side until he slid to the edge of the bench. “We are not that bad, Em,” he continued. “And I really don’t think it’s fair that you’re yelling at us about it.” Emma hummed. “Of course you are, Scarlet. You’re great. That’s why you guys are twentieth in the league and gave up, count ‘em, two goals last night.” “That doesn’t seem very good,” Mary Margaret added. Will scowled.

“Ok, well, when you put it like that, it doesn’t seem very good,” Will conceded. “But! And this is a really big but, this Las Vegas team is questionably good on the power play. You have those stats memorized too, Emma?” “Third in the league on the power play. Something like twenty-six percent. It’s insane.”

“They’re a legit team now,” Robin muttered, waving slightly when Emma’s gaze flickered towards him. “Hey, Emma. Hey, Mary Margaret. I heard you guys baked incredibly alcoholic pies on Wednesday night.” “The string of gossip on this team is ridiculous,” Killian muttered, but there was a note of something in his voice and Emma wanted the game to be over and the plane to be in New York and her boyfriend to be back in their apartment with their incredibly comfortable bed.

She sat up a bit straighter, shaking her hair onto her back and she could see Killian’s shoulders shift when the slightly dim light in Mary Margaret’s loft reflected off the chain around her neck.

“Henry called me,” Emma pointed out and she hadn’t mentioned that in the last two days.

It felt like something big and meaningful and Henry was more than settled in his life with the Mills-Locksley family and the New York Rangers and the National Hockey League, but, sometimes, he was still a kid and still nervous about it all being ripped away and he called her.

She liked that he called her.

She liked that he, still, depended on her a little bit.

And he was almost as loud as Emma when he yelled at the TV.

“And,” Emma continued. “Henry’s got no proof of the alcohol content regarding those pies. I’m a responsible adult figure in his life, I promise.” Robin grinned. “Of course you are. I’m not ever disputing that.”

Her heart flew into the back of her throat, growing several sizes in the process and it wasn’t entirely comfortable. “And the PK is pretty awful,” Killian added, knocking his shoulder against Will’s when he made another noise. “It is, Scarlet. Even Rol knows it. He texted both me and Robin about it during your fried onion from a can feast yesterday.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Emma shouted and Killian flashed her a smile that sent her heart back to its predetermined spot in her chest. Where it promptly tried to beat its way out. “You can’t just steal my phrasing word for word like that.” “I think that’s a compliment, Swan.” “I think you’re a word thief.”

“Be prepared for Roland Locksley’s detailed opinion about our incredibly shitty penalty kill later on tonight, love. He’s going to need an outlet and Gina hates any stat that won’t help us get paid more.”

“I’m leaning more towards hearing about your point streak, if we’re being honest,” Emma said. “And a complete play by play of Robin’s goal on Wednesday. Apparently his post-goal celebration was the stuff of adorable legends.”

“It absolutely was,” Robin agreed. “There was jumping and some kind of rhyme scheme involved. He reenacted it for me yesterday.” “Aw, that’s even more adorable,” Mary Margaret muttered, sliding down the couch and resting her head on Emma’s shoulder. “You think he’ll do it for Ruth later? She’ll be charmed.” “Yeah, and then start questioning the impending arrival of her own painfully adorable grandchildren,” Emma muttered.

Mary Margaret’s eyes nearly fell out of her head.

“Yes and yes, on both fronts,” Robin said. “Although, I’m going to go ahead and assume Mrs. Nolan might have some other concerns before she starts trying to adopt my kid as some kind of pseudo grandchild.”

Emma ignored that – fairly positive that Ruth Nolan would have several questions about several different fronts and, with no David buffer later that night, would have no problem asking all of them until she got an answer she was pleased with.

Robin made a face when she didn’t argue, gaze darting between the phone screen in Killian’s hand and the side of Killian’s face because Killian absolutely, positively would turn his head, and Will was still, somehow, grumbling about penalty kill stats. “Ok, ok, can we backtrack for a second?” he asked sharply. “Em, why do you know about Las Vegas’ questionably good power play?” “Because they’re some kind of feel-good sports story and Ruby Lucas is the media relations manager for this team?” Emma asked, sarcasm falling from every letter. Will made some kind of noise that might have been an agreement. “And,” she added. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Scarlet, but I also work for this team. And its shitty power play. I think that gives me some sort of rooting interest. Tell Sean he can’t try and block shots and then never get up again.” “Arthur mentioned that to him this morning,” Robin muttered, grabbing a roll of tape from the top shelf in Killian’s locker. “God, Cap, why do you have so much tape? It’s like you’re a convenience store up there.” Killian didn’t answer, just shook his head slowly and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling and Emma was certain she was still blushing.

He hadn’t put on his other skate yet.

“Because my sister is dating our equipment manager,” he said. Will mumbled something that sounded a lot like playing favorites and Killian held his hand out expectantly towards Robin. “Give me that. I’m apparently on some kind of point streak. I don’t want to break my stick.”

It probably shouldn’t have been nearly as attractive as it was.

It was normal – Killian’s wrists twisting and tape turning around the blade of his stick and it was routine. Emma was sure she’d seen him do it eight-hundred times. She’d seen hundreds of hockey players do it eight-thousand times, but there was something about the whole thing, the rhythm he fell into and the practiced ease and she knew he wasn’t even thinking about it.

Robin let out a low whistle when Killian tossed the tape back towards him, stick wrapped and a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“Are you trying to set some kind of record, Cap?” he asked. “That was ridiculous.” Will muttered something else under his breath – a string of words suspiciously close to showing off for Emma – and Robin nodded in agreement, lower lip jutted out slightly when he tried not to laugh into the phone.

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Robin continued, clearly unaware that he was the only one participating in the conversation anymore. “Em, you going later?” Killian made a noise in the back of his throat – a mix between a groan and a sigh and maybe just the audible version of trying not to throw his skate at his teammates. Robin held up his hands in surrender, backing up until he was almost out of frame, and Will was doing an admirable job of not actually laughing.

He’d slumped onto his thighs.

And none of them were taking this game seriously.

It was, admittedly, the day after Thanksgiving and they’d be home that night and they’d been gone for nearly a week and she could almost make out the bags under Killian’s eyes. He probably hadn’t slept very well either.

“Am I going later?” Emma echoed, staring at Robin as if he’d lost his mind. “You know your kid has been texting me about your shitty power play all day too.” “Which one?” “Henry, obviously. He was more upset than I was when you guys lost on Wednesday night.”

“So that’s a yeah on the going later, then?” Will mumbled, mostly into his pads.

“Yeah,” Emma snapped. “That’s a yeah. A will have a conniption if we don’t all show up.” “We’re bringing more pie,” Mary Margaret said. She hadn’t lifted her head up yet. “On pain of death because A’s lost her mind.” “I think they call it nesting,” Will corrected, waving a dismissive hand in the air when Killian muttered oh my God under his breath. “Or just the precursor to insanity.” “How do you know that?” “I’m super witty and quick on my feet in conversations?” “Yeah, that’s not the answer you were looking for,” Emma sighed. He grinned at her. “Stop getting all your information from Belle, it’s cheating.”

Will stuck his tongue out – a picture of maturity in the middle of a locker room covered in Coyotes logos – and Emma tilted her head slightly, nodding towards the door she knew Killian couldn’t see.

He nodded.

They were getting good at that whole telepathy thing.

“Move, Scarlet,” Killian said, half a second away from pushing Will off the bench. He tapped his stick against Will’s skates, properly laced and on both of his feet, smiling back at the phone screen when Emma let out a sound that might have actually been a giggle.

Mary Margaret looked close to tears.

It took, exactly, three deep breaths, six, rather long steps, and one door slamming closed on Emma’s end for them to be, almost, alone. Killian never put his other skate on.

“The most frustrating group of human beings in the entire world,” Killian grumbled, sliding down a wall in a dim corner, but his smile was genuine when he glanced up at Emma and they were coming home that night.

“It’s your fault for answering the phone in the locker room,” she said. “You’re practically asking for an audience at that point.”

“Not on a normal team.” “This is a good team.”

He sighed, but didn’t argue and Emma bit her lip before she could start spouting a stream of increasingly sentimental thoughts. That couch had been impossible to fall asleep on. “Are you ok, love?” Killian asked, the edge falling from his voice and that was cheating.

She wasn’t sure what game they were playing, yet, but it was definitely cheating.

“I’m fine,” Emma said. It wasn’t a lie. She was tired, but that was almost expected on road trips by now and she was happy and they’d made pie to bring to the restaurant the night before. “Are you? You looked like you were gunning for a fight.” “On Wednesday?” “A little bit.” “That’s not really my game, Swan,” Killian said. “And if we’re going to try and get the league to listen to this Olympic idea, punching winless teams in the face isn’t going to help much.” “They’re going to listen,” Emma promised, well aware that she couldn’t, but Killian’s mouth twitched and he was almost smiling and that had been the point. “But Vegas wasn’t winless. What are you worried about?”

He didn’t answer immediately, eyes falling to his stretched out legs and he’d never put his jersey on either. “They’re taking their time,” Killian sighed. “This whole thing. It’s after Thanksgiving, Swan. They’re going to have to decide sooner or later and playing like crap is not going to sway anyone.” “Playing like crap?” Emma repeated skeptically and he sighed again, letting his head fall back against the wall.

And really she shouldn’t have been surprised.

Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers and emerging face of the entire goddamn NHL, needed something to fight for. It had always been a Cup run, but they’d done that and there was a parade and a contract extension and, now, the league was dragging its feet on the Olympics and opportunity and he was going to get them there.

Emma knew it.

Even if he didn’t.

“You know Arthur broke two whiteboards?” Killian asked, tugging on the hair curled behind his ear. “He spent most of the third period actually drawing on paper.” Emma nodded. “Ruby was mad. Some guy from The Daily News heard about it and wanted to make a big thing and she was trying to put metaphorical fires most of the night. I was getting live updates of her frustration.” “Is that why you didn’t sleep?” “Presumptuous.” “Nah, assumptive at best. Or worst? How would you define that?” “I’m not sure any of this is a compliment so…” “I wouldn’t go so far as compliment,” Killian admitted, laughing softly. “More observational. And Locksley is going to murder me if I keep mumbling about the stiffness of mattresses or the legacy of the Olympic games.”

Emma smiled, toying with the ring around her neck. “It’s going to work. Shitty power play notwithstanding, it’s not like you guys are on some crazy losing skid. And I wasn’t lying about that point streak.” “I know you weren’t, Swan. Rol’s been very vocal about that too.” “Jeez, beat to the punch by a seven-year-old. That’s kind of rough.” Killian shook his head and she could feel the nervous energy even on the other side of the country. “It’s not a race,” he muttered. “If it were, you’d be winning.” “That’s a bad line, Cap.” “True, but it doesn’t make it any less honest.” He took a deep breath, the pads on his shoulders shifting with the effort and Emma could smell pumpkin pie wafting through the air, like the world was trying to make some kind of heavy-handed point with desserts and scents and a questionable amount of alcohol. “I wasn’t entirely prepared to become the leader of the Olympic movement, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Emma nodded. “But there’s a reason for that.” “Swan…” “No, c’mon, don’t be like that. You win a Conn-Smythe and a Hart and get some crazy extension and you’re going to tell me that we don’t deserve to get to the Olympics too? That’s insane.”

Killian’s eyes narrowed as soon as the words were out of her mouth and for half a moment Emma wasn’t entirely sure what she’d said.

He dropped his phone.

“What did you say?” Killian asked, voice gruff and that nervous energy had multiplied tenfold and evolved into something that, Emma hoped, was excited. “It’s not certain yet.” “Swan, none of this is certain, but you changed pronouns.” “Well, it seemed unfair to suggest that we both won a Conn-Smythe and Hart.” “We did.” “Jeez,” she sighed, but she was probably blushing again and her pulse was doing something impossible in her veins. “Too much, Cap. Way too much.” “Why the change, Swan?” “It’s not certain yet,” Emma warned and he widened his eyes when she kept deflecting. She clicked her teeth together, trying to work out some of the residual energy she could feel racing through her and maybe the conversation would be easier if she started jogging up and down the hallway. “Rubes and I were talking about it when you started talking about it and neither one of us were high enough up any theoretical ladders for Sochi, so when the league decides to stop being a dick about this and agrees to let us all go, then uh...USA Hockey is interested in both of us going. And so is Zelena.” “You talked to Zelena about it?” Emma’s neck felt impossibly stiff when she nodded again and Killian hadn’t blinked in several decades. At least. “That was part of the meeting when they told me I couldn’t come on the swing,” she said. “And like I said, USA Hockey already reached out to Ruby who then told me and said she wouldn't go if I didn’t go and Zelena heard about it and, well, I think that’s a good sign, don’t you?” She’d probably think about the look on his face for the rest of her life and that tiny, little voice in the back of her mind that, occasionally, wondered if this was all real was a silent as it had ever been. Emma wondered if it had disappeared entirely.

Killian still hadn’t blinked and she was ready to make some quip about eye drops, but she was admittedly distracted by how goddamn blue his eyes were and the slight quirk of his mouth and the other side of the country had never felt that far and that close all at the same time.

She was going to eat so much pie later.

“I think that’s a good sign,” Killian muttered softly and Emma felt it in her toes. “You know I love you, right? Just…” He shook his head, the smile moving across his face in slow motion and Emma bit her lip. “I’d want you to go. If we go.” “When we go.” He beamed at her. His eyes were frustratingly blue. “When we go,” Killian repeated. “Then, at the risk of sounding incredibly selfish, I’d really want you there.” “That works out fairly well, since I already told USA Hockey I’d go if the league agreed.”

Killian dropped his phone again.

“Surprise,” Emma said when he was back on screen, waving her free hand through the air and slightly stunned was a very good look on him. “Rubes and I have been trying to brainstorm community relations ideas for weeks. You’re not very observant”

His laugh was shaky and treading slightly close to disbelief, but he was still smiling and his tongue darting in between his lips made Emma question all the reasons she hadn’t gone on the road trip – again.

“I think they’re going to agree soon,” Emma continued. “The league, I mean. USA Hockey is obviously all in on this and recruiting front office even if players don’t get permission. That’s going to wake up the commissioner's gang and then we can win a gold medal.” “Just like that?” Killian asked.

“I don’t see why not. You’re on some kind of point streak.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair and Emma could hear Phillip calling from the other end of the hallway, pregame sounds making their way through the phone speakers. “That is true” Killian said, nodding towards the bodiless voice and Phillip shouted hey, Emma. “You know, the greater Phoenix area has over two-hundred golf courses?”

Emma was going to do serious damage to her lip if she kept biting it, particularly if she kept trying to smile at the same time, but the muscles in her face hadn't gotten that particularly memo and they were really, impossibly good at flirting with each other.

“That seems like an impractical amount,” she said. “Who could golf that much? And in Arizona? Way too hot.” “It’s a dry heat.” “Ah, of course. Why do you know that?” “Swan. Everything. I know everything.” “Yuh huh,” Emma muttered, but there were butterflies in the pit of her stomach and the pie smell was getting stronger. She was positive. That felt like a sign. “The Coyotes logo used to be an actual Coyote with a hockey stick, which is as impractical as two-hundred golf courses. Although the new one kind of freaks me out too. So I’m not sure if it’s really better.” “It’s definitely not. The howling thing is ridiculous. Maybe that’s why no one comes to their games.” “Or, you know, they’ve set some kind of losing record to start the season.” He smirked at her, eyes just a hint brighter and the nerves gone as quickly as they’d come, falling back into banter and flirting and she was going to kiss several clichés worth of living daylights out him later that night.

“Yeah, that too,” Killian said. “You’d really go? To the Olympics, I mean. If we…when we go,” he amended when he heard Emma’s vaguely frustrated sigh. “It’s going to be a shit ton of overbearing team.” “You’re the one who’s looking fight-ready not me. Did you miss the part where Rubes and I have been talking about this already? Or how great it’d be not to go to New Jersey and get those Casino Night tables out of storage? Because that’d be fantastic.”

“That’s definitely why we should go to the Olympics.” “Obviously.” “Cap,” Phillip called, dragging out the nickname or, possibly, rank and Killian squeezed his eyes closed. “Arthur’s getting super pissy and threatening whiteboards again.” “You better go” Emma smiled. Mary Margaret dropped another pot. “I think Reese’s is trying to speak to me in code. Keep that streak alive, huh?”

He winked at her.

Idiot.

They were totally going to win a gold medal.

“Of course, Swan. Save me some pie.”

Roland practically threw himself at Emma and Mary Margaret as soon the door to the restaurant closed behind them, Regina’s cry of be careful barely audible over his “Did you bring pie? Is there pie? Henry said you made pie!”

“There is pie” Emma said, the smile on her face natural as Rolan kept bouncing up and down on his toes. “But the game hasn’t even started yet, Rol. Don’t we have onion rings to eat?”

He deflated slightly, but he didn’t seem all that put out by the prospect of onion rings and, eventual, pie. “We thought you weren’t coming,” he shouted. “It’s almost puck drop and Henry said you made pie.” “We brought the pie, Rol. There is no pie emergency.”

“Good pie?” “Can you name a bad pie?” “Key lime.”

“That was a much quicker answer than I was expecting,” Emma muttered to Mary Margaret.

She shrugged in response, pulling Roland away Emma’s side so he wasn’t twisting up her jersey – the Stanley Cup jersey she’d gotten the season before and Ruth’s eyes had widened slightly when she noticed the patch on Emma’s shoulder as soon as she slid into the cab.

“I mean he’s not wrong,” Ariel said, joining the conversation with one hand on her stomach and the other pressed into the small of her back. She smiled when she noticed Ruth. “Hi, Mrs. Nolan, I’m so glad you guys could make it.” “As if we had another choice,” Emma said. Ariel glared.

“Did you talk to Cap about whatever he was doing with his face on Wednesday night? Because it was weird. It was weird, right Gina?” Regina waved both her hands in the air, taking a step towards Roland to wrap an arm around his shoulders. He only grumbled a little. “I’ve heard it’s going to be fine,” she said and Ariel groaned at the vague tone of her voice.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means the league might be done dragging its feet,” Emma explained. “And Arthur yelled at Sean.” “I’m surprised Arthur didn’t yell at everyone. Or make them skate blue lines yesterday.” “He did,” Regina and Emma said at the same time.

Ariel’s whole body sagged with the force of her sigh. “Damn, I miss everything now. Ah, sorry, Rol. Em, tell Cap I don’t like being out of the loop. Just because I’m not going on the road does not mean I have lost my...”

“Desire to know everything?” Mary Margaret finished.

“Ok, well, it sounds mean when you say it like that. And that PK looked like garbage in Vegas. It was like they were playing in slow motion. I don’t think Sean even realized he was still holding a stick. Or could use it.” “God,” Emma muttered. “Tell us how you really feel.” “I’m really mad we broke this streak. We were at, like, three straight seasons.” “So we start a new one.” Four slightly stunned expressions turned towards Emma and she would have retreated if there weren’t a seven-year-old trying to pull pies out of her hands.

Mary Margaret was definitely going to cry.

Or maybe start live-texting David updates of the entire night. He wanted updates of the game, anyway, and proof the entire New York Rangers contingent appreciate the pies they’d made.

He probably wasn’t expecting Roland to try and eat all of it.

Or for Emma to be some kind of font of positivity.

“What?” Emma asked and it was a pointless question because she already knew the answer. Ariel and Mary Margaret both shrugged, Regina almost looking like she was about to smile and Ruth’s eyes traced across Emma’s face, falling down to the ring that had, somehow, worked its way over the top of her jersey.

Figured.

“Nothing, nothing, nothing,” Mary Margaret promised, but here eyes were a little glossier than usual and Emma could hear her take a deep breath. “I just...nothing. We need forks to eat pie, right?” “Presumably,” Emma said, smile, somehow, getting even wider when Roland let out a noise that was fairly close to a yelp of excitement. “So, uh...Regina what if we didn’t eat food before pie?” Regina smiled.

It was a Thanksgiving miracle.

“Yeah,” she said. “I think we can do that.”

They made it through a whole pie by the time the first period ended – still zeroes across the board and the PK wasn’t horrible, but there were a few close calls, Roland standing on his chair because it made him shout louder, Emma and Henry punching air like he was getting ready to drop gloves.

It wasn’t a perfect game, but it wasn’t a bad game and, then, something happened. It was as if a switch had been flicked or someone had twisted a great, big dial that controlled the speed of NHL hockey games and, suddenly, there were hits and checks and whistles and a distinct lack of whistles.

Roland nearly jumped off the chair.

Emma’s eyes couldn’t keep up with the puck, gaze darting across the TV screen and she wasn’t sure she was breathing. Her lungs burned from the distinct lack of oxygen, tapping her foot impatiently when a Coyotes defender pinned Killian against the boards, trying to work the puck to his stick or his skate and they spent an eternity pressed on the glass.

“Move it, move it, move it,” Emma mumbled, reaching up to grab her ring before she realized her neurons had processed that particularly demand.

“What is that?” Ruth asked. Emma’s neck cracked when she glanced to her right, Ruth’s expectant expression entirely out of place in a restaurant full of anxious front office and family and Emma hadn’t stopped tapping her foot.

“Hmm?”

“That ring. You’re wearing a ring.” “Oh,” Emma blinked. Killian got the puck away from the boards, moving it up to Phillip who was immediately hit at center ice, spinning out and losing possession in the neutral zone.

Roland might have growled.

Henry cursed.

“Hey,” Regina and Emma said at the same time, Mary Margaret’s tongue clicking in reproach.

Henry slumped in his seat. “That should have been a penalty,” he muttered, grabbing another forkful of pie. “He was totally defenseless.” “I mean, he wasn’t totally wrong,” Ariel admitted. She’d commandeered a pie for herself.

Emma winced when her neck did something else it probably wasn’t supposed to, glancing up when Robin missed the net wide right and they were still in the zone and still on the ice and they probably should have changed.

“Get them off the ice,” Mary Margaret shouted, half standing and half sitting. She was wearing a custom jersey. She’d bought it at the start of the season. “They’ve been out there forever. Look, Scarlet can barely skate.” “Oh, tell him that when they get home,” Regina chuckled. She tugged on the back of Roland’s jersey and it only took one incredibly pointed look and slightly raised eyebrow for him to sit down.

Emma sighed and she didn’t really want anymore pie, but she could feel Ruth’s curious stare boring into the side of her head and she needed some kind of distraction.

She really didn’t want to get drunk in front of Ruth Nolan.

Pie was her only option.

“That wasn’t an answer,” Ruth said a few moments later, the first line back on the ice and hits coming fast and furious and Emma was also considering standing on her chair. “I thought they were supposed to keep their championship rings.”

Emma glanced at her, trying to keep one eye trained on the game. “If you know what it is already, I’m not sure what it is you’re asking.”

“Oh, yes you do, sweetheart. And I think you’re thinking it too. About asking. And questions. Big, important questions.” “Seems rather assumptive don’t you think?”

“No,” Ruth laughed. “I don’t. And I don’t think you do either.” “Yuh huh.” “That’s not an argument. You’re wearing a jersey and a ring already, why not add another one?” “Are you trying to plan a wedding, Ruth?” Emma asked, silently pleased that she’d managed to get that word out without stuttering over her. Mary Margaret almost choked on her pie. “Because there is no wedding happening here.” “Tell that to the ring you keep tugging on when you get nervous.” “What could I be nervous about?”

Ruth shrugged, but it was the most knowing shrug in the history of the entire world. “I’ve known you for years, sweetheart and I’ve never heard you so certain of anything as you’ve been this entire weekend. And,” she added, tugging lightly on Emma’s sleeve. “You light up like several different skyscrapers whenever your phone goes off.”

“She’s not wrong,” Ariel murmured through a mouthful of pie. “Something, something, the top of the Chrysler Building.” “Are you quoting things at me?” Emma asked and Ariel twisted her mouth into something that was probably supposed to be the visualization of a shoulder shrug. “And it’s shine like the top of the Chrysler Building. If you want to get technical.” Ariel opened her mouth, but her eyes went wide before she could say anything and Henry cursed again, a string of words he’d definitely picked up from Scarlet.

Emma nearly ripped her ring off its chain.

Killian was down, helmet resting on the ice and Emma could just make out the slight shudder that went through his whole body, like he was trying to take a deep breath or rediscover his center of gravity.

She didn’t remember standing up until she heard the fork fall out of her hand, nails digging into her palm with her fingers wrapped around her ring.

“What happened?” Emma demanded, not sure who she was asking. She didn’t look away from the TV, bouncing slightly on the balls of her and Ariel was already on the phone.

She was dimly aware of the commentators in the background, the noise pumping through the speakers in the restaurant, but the words didn’t seem register – went in fast...blindside...hit the boards hard...concussion protocol.

That one clicked.

“Concussion protocol,” Emma snapped, jerking towards Ariel, but she waved her hand through the air, pushing away from the table with her phone against her ear. “God damnit, show a fucking replay. Shit, ah, God, sorry, Rol.”

Roland was too busy yelling to notice. Henry was still swearing. So was Mary Margaret. Ruth looked stunned.

The replay in slow motion seemed to slink through Emma and she knew that was impossible, but she couldn’t catch her breath and her mouth had gone dry from hanging open for what felt like several years.

He’d been skating into the defensive zone, gone back to try and get the puck off the boards, shoulders turned towards the glass when a Coyotes winger slammed into him. Killian’s head hit first and Emma’s breath caught – even on the fucking replay – tongue darting out between her lips when he crumpled onto the ice.

He laid on the ice for a few moments and Emma could just make out the way his eyes squeezed shut, stick a few feet away where he’d dropped it. It took a few tries to get back up, working onto his hands and knees with Robin crouched next to him and Phillip trying to pull Will away from several different players in Arizona jerseys.

“Oh fuck,” Emma breathed. “That was...that really wasn’t a penalty?” Henry shook his head, lips pressed together tightly. He nodded back towards the TV and Killian was standing, but Emma could tell how shaky his legs were and it took longer than normal to get back to the bench.

“Ok, ok, ok,” Emma muttered, not quite sure what she was saying, but positive she had to keep saying it. Her heart felt like it was hammering against her ribcage and she couldn’t stop moving, jumping instead of just bobbing. “I need my phone. Where’s my phone? God, where’d A go?”

“Your pocket, Em,” Mary Margaret said. “And I think A’s trying to talk to Victor.”

Emma nodded – it felt like her brain was moving with her, bouncing around her skull and she couldn't get her phone out of her pocket. She was being thwarted by her jeans.

And she’d totally been thinking about the same questions Ruth Nolan had.

In their two-bedroom apartment with a stolen Conn-Smythe.

“Damn,” Emma sighed. They were taking him to the locker room. Or, at least trying, Victor yanking on the back of his jersey and nodding towards the tunnel and there was a cut on Killian’s forehead.

She nearly dislocated her thumb trying to text Ruby, demands for updates and information and updates as soon as there were updates to be had.

He didn’t play the rest of the night.

And Emma didn’t sit down the rest of the night.

She brought the pie with her when she left the restaurant, promising Ruth and Mary Margaret she was fine and it was an insultingly obvious lie, but they didn’t argue her cab.

The text message came fifteen blocks before she got home, a quick buzz in her hand that took her by surprise and she coudln’t be doing her blood pressure any favors.

Not concussed. Bruised. Incredibly Sore. But not concussed. Also incredibly glad to be home. With you.

Emma exhaled, closing her eyes lightly and letting her head fall back against the top of the seat.

I was freaking out.

Lucas mentioned. Victor knows what he’s doing though. Definitely not concussed.

That guy should get fined. And punched. Several times.

He probably will. I can’t guarantee that second one. We don’t play in Arizona again for awhile.

Maybe I can get Scarlet to give me two minutes the next time.

Don’t tempt him, love. He’ll totally do it if you ask.

Emma laughed, the noise sounding foreign in the quiet cab and she still couldn’t catch her breath. She felt like she’d done several days worth of Arthur’s blue-line sprints.

Did you leave yet?

About to take off, actually. Now that he knows i’m not going to die somewhere over Kansas, Locksley’s already asleep.

Considerate of him.

I’m really glad you’re ok.

I think I made Ruby mad.

She’ll live.

There’s still pie.

It was, easily, the most ridiculous thing she’d could have said to her professional-hockey-playing boyfriend just a few hours after he’d been cleared of concussion-like symptoms, but she’d only just remembered she’d never actually answered his I love you earlier and Emma’s heart was somewhere on the ground in the middle of Amsterdam Ave.

What an idiot.

Ruth Nolan’s questions were echoing in her head.

Good.

It was after midnight when she heard the lock click in the front door and Emma didn’t really think when she flung herself off the couch, sprinting across the room and slamming into Killian’s gear bag as much as his actually body.

And, really, it probably wasn’t the right thing to do – even if he wasn’t concussed, he was still bruised and slightly battered and, quite obviously, exhausted – but Emma’s mind was racing and worried and Killian smiled when his arm inched around her waist, tugging her even closer so he could press a kiss to her hair.

“Hey,” Killian laughed, leaning back to try and look at her. He couldn’t. Her head was buried in his chest. “It’s fine, Swan. Everything’s fine.”

Emma took a deep breath, pushing up on her toes to brush the tips of her fingers over the slightly purple bruise on the side of his forehead. “Fine,” she challenged and he hummed in agreement. “I might punch that guy in the face.”

“Although I appreciate the offers to defend my honor, love, I don’t know if that’ll help inspire the league to let us go show off hockey to the world.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Emma grumbled, blinking quickly when she realized what he’d said. “Wait, what?”

Killian grinned at her, ducking his head to brush his lips over hers quickly and she’d probably think about his propensity to kiss first for the rest of the weekend. “It’s just a rumor,” he said. “But Victor told me he heard some of the med staff in Arizona talking about schedules for PyeongChang and how many people USA Hockey was willing to send. He claimed they all sounded fairly concrete.”

She could hear the excitement in his voice – the same pick-up it had from nerves earlier in the day replaced with optimism and hope and maybe they were both growing as people or something, right there in the doorway of their two-bedroom apartment.

“I knew it,” Emma said, tugging lightly on his league-mandated tie. “And, seriously, no concussion? How was that even possible?” “Are you doubting Victor’s diagnosis?” “Obviously not. I’m not hoping you’re concussed. It was just...it was a bad hit and they kept replaying it during the third period. The third period you didn’t come back out for.” “Precautionary.” “Because they thought you were concussed.” “Which I’m not.”

“So I’ve heard. What even happened?” Killian shrugged and his eyes widened slightly when he realized Emma was still wearing his jersey. “Is this the same one from the Cup Finals?”

“You’re deflecting.” “I’m curious.” “Killian!”

He licked his lips, directing them back towards the couch and Emma didn’t object when he tugged her onto his legs. “I honestly have no idea,” he admitted. “The first period was fine and then they came out flying in the second and we were always half a step behind and I didn’t even see him coming until I slammed into the boards. I think they’re just pissed at how shitty they are. You know, collectively, and we just got the brunt of that.” “But not concussed?” Emma asked again.

“Not concussed,” Killian said. “Why do you keep asking that, love? I’ve been hurt before. I will, presumably, get hurt at some point again. It’s kind of part of the deal.” “I know, I know, I know, but…” She trailed off, not entirely sure how to explain what she wasn’t sure she understood and Killian’s eyebrows furrowed when she didn’t say anything. “But?” he prompted, nosing at her neck and, probably, breathing in her hair.

“I love you,” Emma said, nearly shouting the words in his face and this was not going according to plan at all. There hadn’t been a plan. Killian smiled. “And I just...I realized I hadn’t said it before and that would have been such a shitty thing if you’d been hurt and we’ve got to go win a gold medal now and I want to do all of that. With you.”

And eventually, maybe, they’d stop doing that kiss each other in response to major declarations, but it wasn’t that moment and Emma wasn’t going to argue.

They were both cautious, moving slightly slower than they would have if there hadn’t been a concussion protocol earlier that night, but Killian’s tongue brushed over her lower lip and Emma’s fingers held onto the front of his jacket and she felt like she was breathing again.

She must have sighed or made some kind of ridiculous noise, because she could feel Killian’s smile when he moved to the curve of her jaw and the side of her neck. He groaned when she shifted over him, legs on either side of his hips and his fingers trailed across her waist, bunching up the bottom of her jersey.

Hs jersey.

“That’s the plan, Swan,” he whispered and it felt big and important and something about as long as we both shall live.

“Good. But the next time you get hurt, I better be there because I can’t deal with this string of information through a Ruby and, or Ariel filter. I thought I was going to go crazy. Or break my phone.” Killian laughed softly, pressing another kiss to the curve of her shoulder and her ring was back outside her jersey. “That seems fair, love. C’mon, I’m exhausted.”

The phone call came a few days later – straight from the league with, probably, smiles on their faces and expectations sky-high and they were going to the Olympics.

Together.

And Emma didn’t bother asking Ruby for any information as soon as Killian crash into the boards in PyeongChang, just sprinted out of the team suite and into the trainer’s room and he smiled when he saw her.

She told him she loved him in the car ride back to the hotel.

#cs ff #captain swan #cs #captain swan ff #cs fic #blue line one shots #spoiler i'm still real mad about the nashville game

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justanothercinemaniac · 7 years ago

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Epic Movie (Re)Watch #233 - National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Spoilers Below

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: No.

Format: Blu-ray

1) There are five theatrical films in the Vacation franchise, this is the only one I’ve seen. I’ve never seen the need to see the other ones, honestly. This one’s already good enough.

2) The opening animation over which the credits is a strong start to the film. It establishes a classic Christmas vibe and silly/slapstick humor. There’s nothing particularly PG-13 about the animation, just PG. It’s not raunchy or rude, just funny. I think that’s an important thing because it’s what makes Christmas Vacation as good as it is. Not the occasional raunch (which is very limited, I think) but instead the silly family elements. Not to mention it sets up a great original song.

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3) The opening carols scene in the car with the Griswold clan does well to establish that dynamic. Clark is a little TOO enthusiastic but it’s sincere, Ellen is supportive, and the kids are kind of over it all.

4) This first encounter with the truckers is very strong. It shows two of the films best comedic elements: Clark’s ability to take things too far and then the build of it. Each choice makes the situation worse and worse leading to an inevitable, unexpected, hysterical climax to the scene.

5) I love Ellen.

Ellen: “Clark, stop it! I don’t wanna spend the holidays DEAD!”

6) Honestly, there are a lot of great little dialogue exchanges in the movie. I dig it.

Ellen: “Clark.”

Clark: “Yes honey?”

Ellen: “Audrey’s frozen from the waist down.”

Clark: “That’s all part of the experience, honey.”

7) When you make a comedy, you HAVE to have a good sense of humor. That’s the entire point! This film succeeds there. It’s odd, ridiculous, slapstick, and silly. Born from escalating problems and crazy “solutions” as well as a nice element of absurdity humor. Clark’s sticky fingers, everything on Christmas Eve, the sled, it all lends itself to this idea.

8) Julia Louise Dreyfus is in this movie. That is all.

9) Of course Chevy Chase is great in this movie, he’s freaking Chevy Chase! But Beverly D’Angelo is equally as good.

While the straighter of the two actors, the one who sees more clearly, D’Angelo gets a number of clever and hysterical moments in the film. She has a great chemistry with Chevy Chase but helps to make her Ellen MORE than Mrs. Griswold. She’s her own character, full of life and personality, patience and flaws, just truly wonderful.

10) I always like that Clark has a Tasmanian Devil coffee mug. It speaks to his fun energy as a character.

11) I never really got why Clark lies to Mary about not being married. It gives Chase a funny outlet to play flustered, but there’s nothing in this film which suggests to me he’d cheat on Ellen.

12) The arrival of the extended Griswold clan is perfectly done. A clear sense of family conflict and insanity is conveyed not only by the performances but the quick editing and off kilter camera angles. It’s very well done.

13)

Clark: “Russ, when was the last time I overdid anything?”

14) Remember how I said Beverly D’Angelo is crazy funny?

Audrey: “Do you sleep with your brother? Do you know how sick and twisted that is?”

Ellen: “Well I’m sleeping with your father.”

15) Much of this film benefits from a pacing that allows us to check in with the whole family here and there, supporting its heart and characters.

16) I actually analyzed the scene where Chevy Chase falls off the roof for a Physics for Filmmakers class. The class was horrible but I had fun with the project. I’d share some of what I wrote but it’s long and boring. Basically the gist of it is the ice can’t travel to the gutter like that but also the velocity of the gutter changes between shots.

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17) I don’t know why, but my family always quotes this line like crazy.

Margot: “And why is the carpet wet, TOD?”

Tod: “I don’t KNOW Margot!”

18) Clark’s failed lights attempt.

There are two things which stand out in this scene: Clark’s in-laws are freaking awful and his immediate family are great. The in laws just relentlessly mock Clark leading Audrey to stand up for her dad.

Audrey: “He worked really hard, Grandma.”

I love that. I love seeing Audrey getting to show some real love and support for her dad instead of being sidelined as a stereotypical teenage girl. It’s freaking great.

19) Clark in the attic.

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Firstly, Clark’s mother in law is an idiot. “Oh, the ladder to the attic is open. It must’ve just fallen or something, there can’t be ANY way a person is up there. I shouldn’t check or anything.” Jerk.

But most importantly, the attic scene is the best representation of the film’s heart. Holiday movies need a good heart to it, good emotion, otherwise they’re just a lazy cash grab. This film’s heart, its focus on family and familial love, are one of the reasons it has held up as well as it has 28 years later. Clark’s sentiment over watching old home movies, supported by a great Ray Charles song, is one of the best parts of the film.

20)

Clark: “Honey, you honestly think I’d check thousands of tiny little lights if I wasn’t sure it was plugged in?”

21) The fact that the solution to the problem with the lights is so abundantly simple is great. Also relatable. How many of us have plugged something into the wrong plug and obsessed over what was wrong?

22) Cousin Eddie just showing up when he does helps give the film an extra bit of energy to propel it in its last hour. Honestly if we had stuck with what was going on with no change or development it might’ve gotten a little dull, but Eddie is just a perfect source of fun family conflict.

23) Some of Clark’s asides when Eddie shows up are just freaking hysterical.

Clark: “If I woke up tomorrow with my head seen to the carpet I wouldn’t be more surprised than I am right now.”

24) Randy Quaid as Cousin Eddie.

Eddie is this film’s ultimate scene stealer. Quaid, reprising his role from the first Vacation film, plays Eddie as totally sincere and honest. Yes he’s a dumbass, yes he causes problems, but there is not a hint of malice in his performance and that’s important. You need to like Eddie, despite his idiocy, you need to root for him along with the other characters. He’s a sweet guy, he just causes a lot of problems, and he fits perfectly with the rest of the cast.

25) Brian Doyle Murray as Mr. Shirley is a great Scrooge-like character in this film. You understand he’s pretty much a pill before you even learn what he did about Christmas bonuses.

26) The saucer sledding scene is crazy fun, but I never got how Cousin Eddie and the kids were able to see Clark go as far as he did. Like, we see him go through woods where no one else is, across a highway, and into a WalMart. And they’re just up on the hill reacting?

27) Clark’s pool fantasy.

The key part to this fantasy is not the presence of a pool, but how happy it makes his family. Clark doesn’t want to let anyone down. He wants to be a traditional patriarch and provide for his family. To not succeed 100% feels like a failing to him, that’s why the pool is so important to him.

28) The conversation Clark and Ruby Sue have together about Santa Claus continues to show off the film’s heart but mores how it balances heart and humor. There’s some crass language mixed in but it doesn’t undermine the emotion of the scene.

29) And now it’s Christmas Eve, and EVERYTHING on Christmas Eve is just one big problem after another. The night descends further and further into chaos before the movie is over which is truly freaking great!

30) Aunt Bethany and Uncle Lewis are a great late addition to the film. For animation fans, the actress who plays Aunt Bethany is also Betty Boop and Uncle Lewis is Dr. Finklestein from The Nightmare Before Christmas. They’re totally nuts, nonsensical, and just fun to watch.

31) All the cat-in-the-box movement is done by Chevy Chase.

32) That Turkey is SO dry!

All the crunching is so uncomfortably funny, leading into a hysterical extended dinner table scene which is a lot of fun.

33) Honestly these next batch of notes are going to be commenting on how each gag works so well. For example: the dad cat gag, for some reason, is extremely funny!

34) Ah, the Christmas bonus.

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This scene is so freaking great. The entire film set it up, we’ve been waiting for this bonus. Meaning the surprise of it is as great for the audience as it is for Clark. The big setup, how much is riding on the bonus, means the fall is even greater. And Chevy Chase’s rant is one of the greatest movie rants EVER! I love it.

35) Clark’s following mania is great to watch, specifically the hilarity and insanity of the squirrel chase.

36) I’m just gonna leave this here.

Clark: “This is a full blown four alarm Holiday emergency here! We’re going to press on and we’re gonna have the hap-hap-happiest Christmas since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny FUCKING Kaye!”

37) The heart to heart between Clark and his dad is a nice reclaiming of the heart that Clark almost lost with his rant. And just when everything seems okay…

38) Eddie happens.

39) I love Ellen.

Ellen: “I’m sorry, this is our family’s first kidnapping.”

40) The police response seems a little excessive, but I guess when a wealthy white guy is kidnapped they bring out the freaking marines.

41) Where Ellen’s hand is in this scene (and where it returns to) was improvised by Beverly D’Angelo.

42) And despite the movie ending on a joke, the ending does have a nice sweetness to it. A sincerity about the madness of the holiday spirit and its equal success.

Christmas Vacation is a holiday treat that grows better with time. The humor is supported by a strong cast and equally strong heart. Chevy Chase is obviously great, but other cast members such as Beverly D’Angelo and Randy Quaid get their time to steal the show. Filled with endlessly iconic holiday movie moments, it’s a great treat for the holiday season.

#Christmas Vacation #National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation #Chevy Chase #Beverly D'Angelo #Randy Quaid #Epic Movie (Re)Watch #Jimming the Camera #Brian Doyle Murray #Movie #Film #GIF

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victorluvsalice · 7 years ago

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AU Thursday: Wonderland Fuzz -- Casting Call! Part 1

All right, I gave you an overview and a few details on the AU last week -- this week, I’m giving you some of my initial ideas on who plays what in this AU, and a couple of notes as to why! This is “Part 1″ because I’m still debating over who in the fandoms fits certain roles best. Got most of them, though! For spoiler and length reasons, everyone past our main two is going under a readmore.

Alice Liddell as Nicholas Angel -- Determined, takes no shit, surprisingly good with weaponry, perhaps tries a little too hard to prove herself sometimes, will not stop when it comes to bringing evil to justice? Alice in a nutshell, baby. And as I stated before, the idea of her as the super-serious super-cop who eventually finds friendship/love and learns how to calm down a bit appeals to me.

Victor Van Dort as Danny Butterman -- Okay, admittedly Danny is pretty much NOTHING like Victor, but hot-gluing a few of his traits onto my boy -- namely his love of action movies -- amuses me. Plus I do headcanon my Victors as the sort who would appreciate having a bit of adventure in their lives (at least before the CB incident), which goes well with Danny's want to experience "real action and shit." Hot Fuzz also doesn't officially have a romance, but -- well. Nicholas was going to have a female love interest (named Victoria, of all things), but she ended up cut -- and her lines given to Danny. With minimal editing, from what I understand. So yeah, everyone (including Pegg, Frost, and Wright) just accepts Nick and Danny enter a relationship at some point. With this being a Valice AU, of course Victor has to be in the "love interest" spot.

Sandford Police Service

William Van Dort as Frank Butterman -- As I said in the first post, the idea of kindly William turning out to be evil just tickles me. He also fits Frank pretty well personality-wise -- they're both fairly affable, make their fair share of dumb jokes, and are inspired largely by their wives' wants (Frank does what he does because his wife so desperately wanted to win Village of the Year that, when Sandford lost at the last minute thanks to some traveling Rromani, she killed herself driving her car off a cliff -- Nell of course will do the same in the backstory of this AU).

The March Hare and the Dormouse (humanized into Marchand Hare and Dormand Mouse) as detectives Andy Wainright and Andy Cartwright (the Andys) -- Duo who are pretty much never seen apart, are clearly best friends with each other against the world, are kind of lazy but capable of good work, can be rude and abrasive but also helpful to the main character? Sounds like March and Dormy to me! The best part is their humanized names keeps both the "March and Dormy" nicknames we're familiar with from Alice stuff, plus the "Andys" nickname from the original movie.

The Hatter (Richard Hatter) as Tony Fisher -- Again, a largely-incompetent fellow who believes himself to be better than he is, but is capable of moments of competence, even genius? Sounds good for Hatter! And Tony regularly begging Nick for help during police work in the movie does kind of remind me of Hatter demanding Alice's help in finding his limbs in A:MR.

Emily (Cartwell) & Victoria Everglot as Doris Thatcher -- Okay, TECHNICALLY only Emily is playing Doris, as she's the one I can see cracking Doris's dirty jokes. The reason Victoria's "sharing" the role is that I wanted her to be part of the station set, but there isn't another woman officer in Sandford, and she's not appropriate for Bob Walker. So Victoria is a new character who patrols with Emily and who everyone just assumes is Emily's best friend. Only Victor (and later Alice) know the truth that they're actually dating. (Yes, Victor did actually date both of them in the past -- William still bugs him to get back together with Victoria.)

Scraps as Saxon -- Saxon's a pretty minor role as the local police dog in Sandford, and as the Alice games have no major dog characters. . .besides, a sleepy town doesn't need a big police dog, now do they? :p

Generals (Bill) Bonesaparte and (Bailey) Wellington as Desk Sergeants Turner -- This one sadly destroys a joke (namely, that there are two Desk Sergeants Turner -- Bill Bailey plays both, and we only see them together at the very end, right before the climax), but it's a minor role, and it seems suited enough to this double-act of general friends. I figure Bonesaparte, being the chattier of the two, would be the Night Sergeant (who's neater and talks more), and Wellington would be the Day.

Neighborhood Watch Alliance

Barkis Bittern as Simon Skinner -- Cripes, this was simple. Skinner is set up as basically Obviously Evil from the word "go," and since Barkis comes off the same way. . . They share the same smarmy "charm" and vaguely threatening air. Plus Barkis getting a model church spire through the chin is pretty easy with the size of his. XD (I BRIEFLY considered making Bumby Skinner early on, but then decided to keep him in Alice's backstory. Skinner is supposed to be kind of funny too, and that's easier with Barkis than it is with Bumby.)

Finis and Maudeline Everglot as Joyce and Bernard Cooper -- There's two main married couples in the movie, and I felt the Everglots fit this pair better. The Coopers run the hotel Nick stays at for the majority of the movie -- I could see slightly-less-snooty (or more desperate) Everglots converting their mansion into a hotel for the cash. And Maudeline well fits the "fascist"/"hag" gag that pops up between Joyce and Nick (she's doing a crossword when they first meet -- "facist" and "hag" are answers in it). I might have to switch their roles in the big finale, though -- Joyce uses a gun and Bernard a sword, but it makes more sense for gun-loving Finis to shoot at Alice.

Paul and Ms. Plum (Paul and Jane Plum) as Roy and Mary Porter -- This is the other main married couple -- as they run a bar, The Crown, I figured using some of the staff of the Ball & Socket would be appropriate. Paul's the character most associated with serving drinks in CB, and Plum the main female character of the B&S, so there you go! ...Actually, thinking about it, given that Roy is taken out during the climax via a bear trap to the head -- yeah, definitely has to be Paul. XD

Pastor (Christopher) Galswells as Reverend Philip Shooter -- Just fitting the two religious figures together here. Galswells is a sterner figure than Shooter, but that should just make him shouting "Fuck off, grasshopper" and pulling guns in the final battle all the more hilarious. XD

Murder Victims

Carpenter (Bruno Carpenter) as Martin Blower -- This was easy -- Martin is an absolutely awful actor (the version of Romeo & Juliet he stages is PRICELESS), so there was no competition for this role. Though somehow I think Carpenter is going to be an even bigger ham than he was. At least Martin never made up words. XD

Walrus (Walter Russo) as Eve Draper -- Eve's no great shakes as a thespian herself, which is a decent fit for Walrus -- as is her general annoying personality (she specifically has an awful laugh, which I'll probably give Walter). Eve and Martin are also in a relationship in the movie, so this is a great way to keep the Walrus and the Carpenter together.

The Town Crier (Tom Crier) as Tim Messenger -- I was stuck for a while as to who should be the town's local reporter -- then FINALLY I realized "oh hey, there's a character in Corpse Bride who's only role is to SPREAD THE NEWS." So that works! I even have the built-in quirk of him ALWAYS SPEAKING AT TOP VOLUME.

The Queen of Hearts/Red Queen (Rose Queen) as Leslie Tiller -- I was also stuck on this role for a bit -- Leslie is a local, super-skilled florist, and has a minor but important role of telling Nick some crucial information before she's killed. After some thought, I decided the Queen was a good fit for three reasons:

A) Both the Queen of Hearts and the Red Queen (of which the game Queen is an algamation) are associated with gardening/flowers (the famous "painting the roses red" bit, and the Looking Glass garden where the Red Queen first appears)

B) The Queen's big bit in A:MR is giving Alice some crucial information (her domain's big memory confirms it was Bumby who killed Alice's family, and she encourages Alice to look more at what's around her, which probably helps her realize how Bumby's been abusing the children)

C) Leslie's also a NWA member, and the Queen is the main villain in AMA. Leslie is murdered for wanting to move (they didn't want another village getting her skills), while the Queen is eclipsed by the bigger evil of Bumby's Dollmaker. Pretty damn good fit in the end!

Other

Charlie, The Insane Children, Skeleton Boy, and Skeleton Girl as The Hoodies -- The Hoodies are actually teenagers/tweens, so they'd have to be aged up a bit, but I figured this was a good place to stick most of the children from both the Alice games and Corpse Bride. The Insane Children and Skeleton Boy and Girl certainly seem up for the mischief they perpetrate, and for helping Alice out in the end. Charlie, being the only one of the lot with a canonical name, might have the pleasure of being the Hoodie Leader (aka Gabriel Weaver -- the subplot about him being the grandson of NWA member Tom Weaver was cut, but anything can happen in an AU).

Solemn Village Boy as Aaron A. Aaronson -- I almost gave this role to Charlie, but then I realized I could keep the joke with Aaron's name if I made him the unnamed Solemn Village boy from Corpse Bride instead. And as the joke (and being Skinner's brief hostage before biting the jerk) is really Aaron's only point to being in the movie...

The Houndsditch Children as the Underage Bar Patrons -- Again, aged up to teenagers. It seemed like overkill to stick the Houndsditch kids in with the Hoodies, and the bratty responses most of the patrons give suit the bratty nature of the Houndsditch lot. Also the fact that something horrible happens to them in the end (the kids start misbehaving when Angel ejects them from the bar, and the NWA kills ANYONE who makes the town look bad...).

Emil as Tina -- Once again replacing a woman with a man, but this is a minor role focused on being a helper (Tina is Skinner's secretary, who spends most of her time lounging at his desk), and we all know Emil the super-butler is good at that. We'd just have to take out the part where he's also a dancer at a club. (Or we could leave it in and have everyone be weirded out.) This also has the amusing consequence of him being taken out at least partially by his canonical employers' daughter. XD

Maggot and Black Widow (Enn Maggon and Betty Black) as Greg and Sheree Prosser -- These are background characters noted as being better actors than Martin and Eve; might as well fill their roles with some of Emily's comic relief friends, right? They're also minor NWA members, so that helps keeps the ranks appropriately Burtony.

Nan Sharpe as Janine -- Sort of -- Nan is not Alice's former girlfriend, as Janine was for Nick! Instead, Nan retains her role as Alice's old nanny, who she goes to talk to after gets she gets promoted/transferred. Nan's the one who tells her she needs to find someone who helps her "switch off," thus setting up the eventual Alice/Victor romance. It's a minor role, but it seems well-suited for Nan (especially since I've already cast the other role she could have -- dirty-minded Doris).

Tim Burton, Mike Johnson, and American McGee as The Met's Sergeant, Inspector, and Chief Inspector Kenneth -- These characters have the minor but important role of sending Nick to Sandford in the original film (for making everyone else look bad), so I just thought it would be funny I used the directors of CB and the mind behind the Alice games for them.

#wonderland fuzz #casting call #some of these were super easy #and some were HARD yo #I still haven't finished casting the NWA #or one of the murder victims #I feel like I need to get Cheshire and Bonejangles in there somehow #but I'm not sure who they'd fit #there's still one police officer where the joke is that he's almost unintelligible #unless you know his accent #but is that a good fit for Cheshire?#I was thinking humanized Caterpillar #decisions decisions #queued

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rossthecit · 5 years ago

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What Ross would do in the actual series (Season 1)

I was just thinking about Ross, as a character and thought it would be fun to sort of figure out what role she would have in different episodes. I was worried about her being considered Mary Sue but hey, I only just started this blog so I’m still learning. That said, these aren’t like synopses, they just say what Ross does during episodes. Some of them are really weirdly detailed and others are vague, that’s because I wrote this over the course of a few days. I’m not trying to make her the main character or anything please don’t maul me I’m just a babey

Ok anyway, so this doesn’t take up the whole dashboard I’m adding a read more ⬇

Escape from Camp Campbell - Ross accompanies David and the trio-to-be on the tour, because you know, damage control. She doesn’t do much other than that, but she does chase the trio with the counselors. (I got lazy and this is edited from like a week or so ago)

Mascot - While everyone else opts to find a new mascot, Ross decides to row to spooky island to find the hamster instead because she was quite attached to the little guy. She gets lost there but finds her way back by the end of the episode thanks to a mysterious boy named Jasper. She and Jasper become friends and she promises to visit him often. The rest of the episode carries on and she declares Muack (platypus) her rival.

Scout’s Dishonor - Since this episode is exclusively the trio, she doesn’t make an appearance. However, it’s implied that she and David retrieved Max from the Wood Scouts afterward (she snuck into the canoe). Also important to Ross’s character, I have another OC who’s a Wood Scout. More on him in a future post.

Camp Kool Kidz - Technically bridging the gap between camper and counselor, Ross has to choose between joining the revolution and helping the counselors. Her fear of getting sent back to the Flower Scouts fuels her decision to help Gwen and David. Since there’s no more room on the flagpole, the campers just hold her prisoner in the Mess Hall. The rest of the episode continues on as usual. (Note: As Campbell has a tendency to call people the wrong names, he just calls Ross “Red” because of her bright red hair and name that starts with an R.)

Journey to Spooky Island - Ross agrees with David about the island being strange, claiming her friend who lives there told her all about it. David tells her nobody’s lived there for years, which scares the frickity-frack out of her so she goes with the trio to prove that Jasper, whose name she conveniently didn’t mention to David, is real. So the group goes about things as usual except Ross is there. Ross is genuinely more scared of ghosty stuff than the actual bad things. Torture room? I sleep. A door creaks slightly? Nopenopenopenopenope~! Ross is unphased by what they found behind the dungeon’s noisy door, making everyone question what in the world she’s seen, and QM rows them back to camp, mental scarring and all.

Reigny Day - Shortly after the rain starts, Ross walks in covered in rain water and cat scratches, but only in the background because haha background gags. Every time there’s a holocaust joke, she cringes and shakes her head. When Neil goes missing, she panics about as much as David does, nervous about failing her responsibilities as a CIT. While the others search for Neil, she has to take care of the campers who wanted nothing to do with all of that. She’s relieved when they come back with Neil, and is proud of Dolph when he gets the award. (I love Ross as a big sister type, especially since she, like me, is the baby of her family)

Romeo & Juliet II: Love Resurrected - Ross works as a stagehand and makeup artist throughout the episode. She keeps trying to get Nikki to let her do her makeup, afraid of what will happen if she disobeys Preston. Nikki keeps escaping, and eventually she disappears completely. Ross wanders off to find her, only to be ambushed by the flower scouts, who want to take her back to camp so Ms. Priss will stop complaining about the lack of help she gets. During the chaos with Tabii with two I’s, Ross rolls onto stage, tied up and with duct tape over her mouth. Sasha runs after her and notices Tabii is doing bad stuff and opts to drag her back instead. Bonquisha drags David off to a date while Ross silently ships it and worries for David simultaneously.

Into Town - David takes Ross with him for “moral support” as he’s quite afraid of civilization. She heads into the general store with David and discovers a metal water bottle for sale. David buys it for her, then sees Max in the window shortly after. Ross gets confused, because she recognizes the girl in the window as one of her flower scout peers from last year, Niccolette. Things are cleared up in the car and Max is still thoroughly convinced David is gonna murder him. Instead, just like in the actual episode, he announces they’re all camping together. Ross protests because Gwen won’t survive a night alone, but in the end David’s the one with the license.

David Gets Hard - Ross avoids the Nurf situation, not wanting to deal with a bully type for some reason. Unfortunately, that’s easier said than done. When Scotty makes his first and only appearance, she questions where he came from. Nobody answers. When Nurf tries to go on a killing spree, she wields her bottle as a weapon, thus discovering its true power. She almost gets stabbed before David swoops in and accidentally slaps Nurf.

Mind Freakers - Ross gets upset with Harrison when he accidentally hexes Max, going full mom-friend. She goes to town to get some medicine for Max and generally takes care of him, much to his annoyance. The next day, she’s out at the store to get more medicine because it mysteriously vanished (QM probably took it for strange reasons) and misses the rest of the episode.

Camporee - Most of the beginning of the episode is the same, except with Ross and mystery boy who she nicknames “Boyscout.” Having been a flower scout in the past, she knows all of their weird courses by heart and passes them with flying colors. The wood scout courses, not so much. If she had an activity during the Camp Campbell portion of the competition, she would have chosen baking, but there was a limit of 5 and she hardly qualifies as a camper anyway. She gets visibly FURIOUS for the first time when Campbell says he won $50 and tells him off.

The Order of the Sparrow - Ross, knowing the reward is a bonfire (and also technically not being a camper), doesn’t participate in the kindness competition. This episode is mostly focused on Max and David and not much on side character so Ross doesn’t do much other than help Preston make the costumes in the last bit.

wow that took a while, now to go to sleep

#camp camp oc #camp camp #i dont believe in cringe culture :)#this took me like 3 days #camp camp season 1 #camp camp self insert

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gaudeixcc · 7 years ago

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Peloton News – G17 tour – Halfway between the Sun and the Moon.

At least once a year for the last 6 years, we have been away on a cycling tour.

It all started with JT and I and a trip to Majorca.

Here’s a fact for you, long brushed under the carpet of time. I actually arranged most of the riding and routes on the first trip. Yep.. I did.

I Google-Earthed each route to make sure it was an actual road and not some farmer’s track. I mapped them, Garmin’d them and then sent them to JT.

All was well.

Some of the iconic long-time favourites were first born here. Col De Sa Batalla, the decent into Soller.

There were also a couple of howlers in there too. The strip in Magaluf… not my finest cartographical moment. JT trying his best to hide his ‘WTF-face’ as we glided down the main strip on a casual Saturday afternoon. Since this point, his patience his shortened considerably and his control-freakery at all things planning has well and truly taken a Japanese knott-weed grip on the roster.

I didn’t mind handing the planning gauntlet back in all honesty. It’s easy enough to do, but the absolute merciless hammering you get from the baying Peloton should you as much as put a wheel wrong takes what little shine there is off the whole process. That and the constant squeaky-wheel that is our diminutive friend, always asking for a progress update. He would see it as delegation…. But that would assume that some level of responsibility had passed to allow minor decision making…

‘Big assumption’ the little man would no doubt counter.

At times I’ve felt very much the beaten-wife…” I just do it to keep him happy… you know… for a quiet life and all that”

I say all that though… but I know that deep down… every member of the Peleton loves his ruthless efficiency at planning and organising. For most of the team, all that is required of you is to follow a list of instruction on what to pack (I mean, it’s like a professionally guided tour, it really is) and then turn up at an airport on the time written in the e-mail (plus numerous reminders).

Turn up, go where told, cycle, arrive home. Bosh. That’s it But, as long as Gaudeix are going on tour, JT will plan it and sanction the decisions, I’ll sort the caps and the shirts (for the Grande Tours) and then completely exaggerate everything via the printed word and everyone else will turn up and contribute to making these trips what they are… a great experience. Each and every one.

This edition of Peloton news will take a slight departure from the usual recounting of tour heroics.

Yes, I will be covering some of the big moments as we work through the following process…. however I feel a slight shift in format is required to keep things a little fresh.

‘Feedback… it’s the breakfast of champions’…well, so sayeth an old Peloton laggard…. a man who hasn’t edged his cycling beak out of the comfort of his nest (meringue?) for some time.

I couldn’t agree more.

In my stationary cupboard team (I’m proud of each and every one of them), we have deep and intensive feedback sessions…. Not so much your classical 360 degree feedback (i.e. the ‘to me, to you’ type session so favoured by many a progression management guru). No, I like to call mine the 180 sessions… I tell ‘em what I think… if they know what’s good for ‘em, they listen. Easy.

And so my little Peletonistas…. The price of a tour ticket is a seat at the 180 degree listening post. Pin ‘em back please, I feel wisdom a coming…

Dripping

Pros

· Excellent preparation this year.

· Did the most miles

· Talked up his ‘yellow cap’ chances (more to follow on that subject)

· Didn’t bonk

· Looked like a giant in some photos

· Has invented a new shade of pink (Dripink)

· Didn’t crash

· Shouted extra rides

Cons

· ‘Yellow cap’ effort…. A little like that old Morecombe and Wise sketch… all the right clothes… just in the wrong order…

· Still surging (although much enhanced ability means he now troubles those ahead as opposed to those behind)

· Still saying a ‘hail Mary’ on every landing. “I always say it and we always land safely”… difficult to argue with… I’ll let Macca stew over the best way to explain correlation

· Animal cruelty or butchering a pair of beautiful white leather Rapha shoes…. Which is the most morally disturbing?.. … answers stapled to a cat to the usual address please

Pros

· Got yellow (just).

· Solid riding

· Down-hill ability in marginally sketchy conditions was excellent. I watched whilst tailing him. Unusual.. but in mixed conditions, he’s too fast for me.

· Booked the flights… did all the initial ride prep a couple of years back when he was in one of his awkward ‘between jobs’ situations…. You know the ones…. where he gets rumbled for extracting cash from a large corporate, then somehow manages to get even more cash from said corporate and then lands a promotion with another corporate… who export him to solve a problem (but still give him cash)… realise he ain’t letting go… and then…(it’s a strange noise if you’ve ever heard it)… the corporate just sighs… JT rubs one dry hand against t’other…. And the family moves on. (As an aside, I’m running a book on JT retiring at 50, golden handshake, golf handicap down to single figures, member of an exclusive club…. 3/1. I’m hedging that with an outside bet with the local bookies that sees him busted for snorting coke of the arse of a transsexual rent-person…8/1). Still… he asked for and took no credit for any of the planning this year…. but he deserved it. Well done sunshine.

Cons

· He still likes to gently wake me at 3am by drinking 2 pints of water in a way you would imagine a parched elephant with a heavy cold might attack a half empty bath…. Seriously… I thought internal organs were going to felch from his nose…

· People-tolerance levels still only marginally warmer than sub-zero

Damo

Pros

· Every year we see a little bit more of the true cyclist. Crushingly consistent at the top of the pack

· Nearly aced yellow as well as pink

· Aced pink (not just a wrong righted from the year of JT’s catastrophic ‘we’re leaving the Euro’-type pronouncement either… )

· Shoes

· Bike

· Cannondale

· Bike

· For Damo.. was surprisingly un-grumpy…and… rode back more than once for a straggler.

· Bought me breakfast a few days later

· Relentless replaying of the ‘red nose’ gag on Moley. It was a narrow bandwidth of attack, but it was superbly executed.

· Cyclist mentality

Cons

· Has a habit of being dismissive of exceptionally difficult rides. I remember Paris Roubaix… My Comment: “Fuck that was tough eh Damo… I ain’t doin that again…ever”……reply: “was alright.. I’d like to do the full route. It’s only as hard as you make it”.

· A quiet Mr Sock this year

Macca

Pros

· Well kitted out… as per…

· New shit on his bike (it’s like a ‘where’s Wally’ game with Macca… we all know he’s got new shit going on…. But who can spot it?).

· Consistent riding from the Robot

· Bought me lunch and talked soothingly to me at the airport. Thank you Macca.

· How the fuck can a man have that much time off work, not cycle and lose weight… I mean what the fuck…. If I had had a quarter of the ‘leisure time’ that our flying man has had… I would be the size of a house… even our old chum Amesy… he has to work 14 hour days just to keep his biscuit habit the right side of obsessive.

I genuinely think Mark is half-man, half-machine. I’m going to have a chat with his roomy, Damo. I have a theory that when he goes to bed, he secretly plugs himself in to charge. You can bet your he’s got an Apple lightening connector…. Perish the thought that he would have something as vulgar as a kindle re-charging point.

A little like his over-sized iPhone charging case, Macca has additional spare batter capacity. We saw it a few years ago when he dressed all in white and revealed his penis to the world. (I say penis, on reflection I think we’ve found his charging point.)

Cons

· Less tolerance than Trump (or should that be fewer, Mark?)

· Has perfected the withering look (closely followed by the sarcastic smile). This little beauty is normally reserved for Dripping and I when we have the temerity to propose some sort of cycling knowledge… I mean… the very thought….

· One of 2 people who constantly correct my grammatical meanderings. (In my view apostrophe’s should be used gushingly and with abandon)

Colchester Mac

Pros

· Enthusiasm

· Dug deep and rode consistently

· Nearly witnessed our joint demise atop Stelvio… who’d have thunk it… both nearly killed by a motorcycle falling from the sky

Cons

· Shouting 2 words and 2 words only at Italians (‘Bon journo’… I can still hear it at night when I listen to the wind on cold evenings)

· Descending as if riding a tandem. Why have the safety of distance when you can have the knife-edge of proximity!

RTA

Pros

· Very very nearly got Pink.

· Very strong riding

· Modest

· Sacrificed the most difficult climb… one he would have aced.. to support Drip… top effort RTA and it didn’t go unnoticed.

Cons

· Only one thing here to see folks…. The fake home-made Rapha shoe.

Moley

Pros

· Took the stick from Damo with broad shoulders

· Always smiling…

· The seminal tour moment for me goes to Moley. Day 3 had me looking deep into my soul… I’ve never crested a more difficult combination than Mortirollo followed immediately by Gavia. I genuinely think it took me near to my cycling edge of pain. But Moley… he laughed in the face of my anguish and he went deeper…. I’ve never seen a man so wracked by the utter effort and ensuing exhaustion… the day Moley crashed through the saloon doors atop Gavia, cowboy-style, slumped down in his seat…. Tears in his eyes, will live with me a long time….a truly heroic effort. No one worked harder that day.

· Best bike bag by some margin

Cons

· Starts talking about his chances of winning pink a good 6 months in advance

· He has publically confused the sun with the moon. Tricky heavenly bodies to differentiate, admittedly. One a sphere of hot plasma, about 300,000 times the mass of the earth, accounting for 99.86% of the total mass of the solar system…. The other a debris strewn dead lifeless satellite with a reflectance marginally greater than asphalt…. I mean it’s a tough spot even with a sharp eye….

And finally….. me

Pros

· Didn’t fuck up the planning

Cons

· Nowhere near enough mileage

· Didn’t make nearly enough of the Moley ‘moon/sun-confusion’ moment

· Nearly killed a man in a wheel chair along with the pensioner pushing him

…and there we have it. Another one is under the belt and locked into the memories

My final reflection takes me back to Damo’s comment in the Alps a couple of years back….

‘Wherever you are, be there’..

When I ride in the mountains and I look up…I am always, always there. Always. The high mountains…..my favourite riding.

Tour selection for G18 will start shortly.

Ride safely my little fuckerettes….

Hoppo

#PelotonNews

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amorremanet · 8 years ago

Note

Sebastian: 2 + 38; Pete: 5 + 45; Margot: 25; Lucy: 26; Sara Grace: 13; Adelaide: 50? (...I apologize if this is just too many questions.)

oc questions meme that i totally didn’t forget about (except for how i kinda did, but mostly i was just lazy about typing up my longhand from saturday night)

SEBASTIAN2: What's a movie your character really, really doesn't enjoy?

Pretty much any and all horror is probably going to be on Seb’s, “can we please not” list, because he squicks really easily and does not have a good gag reflex when it comes to movies. He also gets emotionally affected and upset really easily, and arguably has an even worse gag reflex when that gets involved.

Like, seriously, even Shaun of the Dead is kinda pushing it, for him

That said? Of the Three Flavours Cornetto movies, the one that really sicks him out is The World’s End, not because the movie itself is that gross, but because he can’t help identifying in really self-loathing ways with Gary King.

So, watching Gary go on his increasingly destructive quest to drink a pint in each of the twelve pubs along Newton Haven’s Golden Mile, even while the world is going to sci-fi Hell and all his old friends are getting really upset with him, makes Seb get unhappy, then distressed, and then violently ill in the nearest wastebasket.

That being said, Requiem for a Dream gets a very special mention on his list because, unfortunately for him, his “it’s complicated” is a hipster fuck who went to film school and thinks it’s cool to brag about having seen RFAD more than once.

(I mean? It is an actual facts accomplishment, Todd, but calm down. Just because it’s an accomplishment doesn’t mean that it’s one that you should brag about, because it mostly makes people think you’re kind of an asshole.

……Which isn’t unfair, bc Todd is kind of an asshole, and unlike Pete, he isn’t self-aware about it, buuuut that’s another matter.)

Either way, Todd being one of Seb’s favorite people means that Seb first had to see RFAD once. To the surprise of no one but Todd (but in fairness, this was still early into their friendship), Seb got violently ill in the nearest wastebasket, cried, and wasn’t impressed when Todd thought him saying, “The horror, the horror” was a, “trying to cope with the movie through grim humor”-style joke based on how, earlier that night, Todd had been complaining about having to read Heart of Darkness for a lit class.

(I mean, it was a Heart of Darkness reference, but…… no, Seb was being completely serious about it. If they hadn’t brought up Heart of Darkness earlier, he would’ve expressed it in some other way, but that was what he came up with in the moment.)

Then, Seb had to see it again, even though once was really more than enough. He could’ve opted out, sure, but unfortunately, there isn’t a lot that he wouldn’t do for the people he loves, which makes him kind of a doormat sometimes, and in this instance, meant that he was easily swayed by Todd promising him that maybe he’d make it through without getting sick this time, since he already knew what was going to happen

(not quite) spoilers: ……Noooot really, nope. If anything, the rewatch made things even worse for Seb.

Then, they tried a third time, and that was the last time Seb ever attempted to sit through the whole thing, largely because Todd got it through his head that…… okay, no, this isn’t a one-time thing, or a coincidence, or anything like that. Seb will always get physically ill at RFAD and when that happens, he definitely ends up puking. So, after the third time, Todd finally quit trying to make Seb sit through it with him.

38: Your character's general opinion on kids. What if they were to have a kid? What if something happened and someone had a kid and your character was the only one who could take care of that child?

In general, Seb likes kids a lot and, when he’s doing okay, he gets along with them pretty well. There are several reasons why he is one of his seven-year-old niece’s favorite uncles, and one of them is that he’s genuinely better than either of his brothers at getting on Marie’s level without either condescending to her, or treating her like a tiny adult just because she’s intellectually gifted.

(To be fair to Max and Ambrose, they try their best — especially Max since, y’know, Marie is his daughter and he is such a dorky, “proud of everything his kid does, ever” dad — but both of them have trouble finding the balance here, which is also fair because lbr? It’s a difficult balance to find, much less maintain.)

The problem is that Seb is not always doing okay. More often than not, he’s way more likely to be Not Okay, and when he’s Not Okay, one of his first impulses is to withdraw from absolutely everyone.

For most of Marie’s life thus far, that has also tended to involve him getting intoxicated — and increasingly, it was, “intoxicated to the point where, at best, it should be termed, ‘getting really fucked up’; and at worst, he would probably be dead if not for his shiny mutant healing factor” — which made him actively avoid being around her, for a laundry list of reasons, including but not limited to:

“What if something happens and I get left alone with her, she could get hurt”

“What if something happens, I get left alone with her, and something happens to me, so she has to watch that and she now doesn’t have a guardian”

“What if I finally run out of extra lives around her, because as someone who has discovered the corpse of someone who died by overdose, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not her and especially not when she’s so young; even if she might not remember her, finding someone’s corpse will fuck you up and she doesn’t need that in her life”

(—he said, feeling bad about all the broken promises that this usually involved, but also feeling like breaking them and disappointing her was better than potentially dying in some place where his tiny niece could find him, like?

Dying itself? Didn’t sound too bad or like that much of a problem. But dying where the sight of his corpse could potentially traumatize Marie? That would be Terrible.)

“What if I can’t fake like I’m sober well enough for her to believe it — I mean, Max and Linda probably wouldn’t believe it even if I were, but if I’m so obviously not-sober that even Marie gets it, what if she sees it and blames herself for it? She’s gifted but she’s still a kid, and she’s a sensitive kid, and even adults have trouble understanding when something about a person they love being a fuck-up isn’t their fault”

and, “I don’t want her to see me like that, she’s probably one of the only people on the planet who still doesn’t think I’m totally worthless”

(—he said while: 1. not getting it that none of the people who are saved as favorites on his phone — i.e., a grand total of 14 contacts, at that point, out of 1,000+

[though that number includes things like favorite takeout places and NYU campus security, even though he hasn’t been an NYU student since May 2007 and has changed his phone multiple freaking times since then, and even given that he has had good luck with SIM cards, there is no reason for him to still have the number for NYU campus security]

—just…… yeah. None of the people he cares about most actually think that he’s completely worthless. He is literally the only person whom he deals with on a regular basis who thinks that;

and 2. ……uh, yeah, no. Cool intentions, Seb, but at this point, your niece had definitely seen you in a state that you would describe as, “like that.” She’d even seen you, “like that” more than once.

Maybe Marie didn’t entirely get it or understand what was going on — and bc she was a grand total of five when you went to rehab, the initial explanation that she would’ve gotten out of her parents would’ve been something like, “Uncle Bastian is very sick right now, and he’s going to be okay, but he had to go away to see the doctors who have special training to help him get better”

—but she still definitely saw you, “like that.”

And then, a few days before Christmas 2014, Marie got to see him while he was, courtesy of some regrettable heat of the moment decision-making, cold turkey detoxing because she had been promised a playdate, and Seb was cognizant enough to do that if Max and Marie came to his place instead (on the plus: six dogs), and Pete was free to come over as chaperone (since Max trusts him, but not Todd or Margot)

And that playdate did involve an attempt at explaining an idea that even adults sometimes have trouble with, in a way that a six-year-old would understand, but oddly enough, the concept had to do with why pit bulls have a bad reputation that they do not deserve, and why some people are assholes who abuse their dogs

The concept of, “Uncle Bastian is sick right now because he decided to recommit himself to sobriety and broke up with his latest bad idea, but instead of trying to do this a bit more responsibly — i.e., talking to a doctor and getting weaned off of everything safely — he just got rid of all of his pills, alcohol, and assorted paraphernalia, and didn’t remember why this might’ve been a bad way to handle things until he started getting sick at church on Sunday morning”?

Like, yeah, they had to change the wording a bit, but that made perfect sense to Marie

(—which her uncle is really not proud of, since the fact that she understands this as well as she does at her age is pretty much entirely his fault, but…… it’s not like he can undo any of his decisions here)

(nor can anybody else undo theirs, because none of my mutants are allowed to have time travel powers, period.

Any “minor time manipulation” is exclusively limited to shit like, “it’s actually enhanced speed that goes so fast that they essentially enter bullet-time, or have GOTTA GO FAST!! super-moments, like the Days of Future Past and X-Men: Apocalypse movies did with their whitewashed Quicksilver, or like the one bit of the “Three Hundred Big Boys” episode of classic Futurama, where Fry drinks so much coffee that he speeds up into a magical super-fast state of calm or something)”

But they are not actually examples of, “time manipulation,” much less time travel, because time travel powers are silly and they too easily either destroy all semblance of continuity or turn into hella over-powered game-breakers that violate the agency of literally everyone who isn’t using them

—or, worse, cause all kinds of moral and ethical dilemmas like, “well, if Superman can turn back time by flying really fast around the Earth because that makes sense, then why doesn’t he just go back and kill Hitler? why is it more morally defensible for him to let the Holocaust happen than not?”

—and because frankly, I don’t want to deal with that, so, no one in my universe gets to have any legitimate time travel or time manipulation-related powers, end of discussion

But anyway, I was saying)

Right. So, Marie generally understood the concept of, “so, your uncle was once more abusing his substances of choice for a sustained period of time, but now he isn’t, and rather than doing the safe thing, he did the quick thing based on heat of the moment, emotional decision-making, which involves him being sick for several days”

Animal abuse, on the other hand, did not make any sense to her at all

But that’s an entirely different matter and I’m so far off the point right now that it’s not even funny.

BACK ON THE ORIGINAL, ORIGINAL TOPIC

……so, yeah, uh.

Seb has some hangups about being around kids, but they mostly involve, “oh my god, I don’t have my life together at all and what if I am actively detrimental to the well-being of the kid(s)” — and for all some of this is an understandable fear for him to have, based on a lot of precedent from him…… uh?

Other parts of it are legitimate nonsense, based in a potent mix of hella self-loathing, hella bullheaded refusal to forgive himself for just about anything, hella letting his imagination get the better of him and rationalizing justifications for this without realizing that they’re not as accurate to reality as he thinks, and holy unrecognized generalized anxiety disorder, batman

At the moment, he’s fine with the only kids who are actually his being his six dogs, and has given essentially no thought to ever being a parent to human children, partly because he assumes that it won’t ever happen (bc he can’t see anyone wanting to have kids with him, and feels like, “it wouldn’t be fair on the kids to stick them with me, like that’s just unconscionable”), and partly because what little thought he has given the idea? Has been deeply terrifying

He’s marginally less terrified of something happening to Max and Linda, at least from a practical standpoint, because Seb knows that custody of Marie goes to his and Max’s parents, first, should anything happen to both of Marie’s parents

Like, he doesn’t WANT anything to happen to either his brother or his sister-in-law, much less both of them, and he might not admit it to himself, but if something happened to Max, Seb would be a Mess about it.

But at the same time, he could cope with it better because as much as he loves Marie, he wouldn’t be her legal guardian and she’d be in the competent, caring hands of her grandparents

If it ever happened that he wound up with custody of her and any potential future siblings she ends up with…… well.

There are three major possibilities for why that might happen: 1. Seb somehow redeemed himself to Max and Linda so much that the part where he’s Marie’s godfather became more than a ceremonial thing, and he actually did get switched to the person who gets custody of Marie if anything happens to both of her parents;

2. Abe and Marceline both died, and Seb had redeemed himself to Max and Linda enough to be the first-alternate to his and Max’s parents on the, “who gets custody of Marie” hierarchy;

or 3. Whether he redeemed himself or not, nothing was actually made official, but everybody else died or couldn’t be contacted (or is kind of stuck in mutant supermax, awaiting trial for various charges of fraud, conspiracy, bribery, election-related tampering, rape, sexual assault, torture, murder, illicit use of metahuman abilities, tax evasion, and possibly treason, as Conrad eventually will be), so Seb ends up as Marie’s guardian by default

Regardless of the situation here, uh. His first reaction is going to be to make himself hold it together as best as he can until Marie is in bed and asleep for the night, and then just try to have a meltdown as quietly as possible so as not to wake her up. Because, even in the situations where he did something to redeem himself to Max and Linda, abruptly being saddled with custody of his tiny niece after an undefined something happened to his big brother and his sister-in-law?

……Yeah, Seb’s not going to handle that well, at first

I mean, he will step up and try to keep it together and try to do his absolute best to take care of Marie and be a good, responsible, and loving guardian to her

But he’s an easily stressed out Disaster, and he would not handle the initial shock of losing Max and Linda well (+/- the rest of their family, too), and he would really, really need a lot of help with this, both in terms of, “keeping it together emotionally because he needs to grieve and deal with the stress here or it’s not going to make any of this less horrible for the tiny human who just lost her parents”

and in terms of, “Seb has never cared for a tiny human for any real extended period of time before, and there is a HUUUUGE difference between being a favored uncle who spends time with her, usually with at least one more consistently responsible chaperone, and can make lunch and take her to the zoo and whatnot……… and actually being a parent”

PETE5: Your character is partial to people who _____? (Are tall, have blue eyes, tend to be rowdy, etc)

In general, Pete tends to be partial to people who are, “interesting,” “different,” or at the very least, “not boring,” which is about all he ever says on the subject because his opinion is, “lmao, I don’t need to explain myself to you.” In fairness to him, “interesting” could mean a lot of things for Pete.

e.g., Aside from them just having been through a lot together since, Seb first went from, “freshman I’m supposed to babysit and ‘mentor’ or whatever because Sister Mary Ignatius said so” to, “actual friend” because of his reactions to seeing sides of Pete other than the witty, effervescent, charming façade that he put on in high school.

Like, the side of Pete that was a karaoke prince, which usually only came out at parties when he was sufficiently drunk, or in the sanctity of his bedroom with his cassette player and his sister Cora’s hairbrush;

the side of Pete that professes that his music taste is, “I don’t care anything but country” and yet adores Dolly Parton, and says that she doesn’t count as country because she is a Diva and divas transcend genre, obviously;

the side of Pete that was anxiously hyper-protective of the shoebox under his bed where he kept his collection of pics of cute guys that he clipped out of Cora’s discarded teen girly and, “young ladies’ interests” magazines (Luke Perry circa 90210 and the guys of Buffy made a lot of appearances in said shoebox because Pete collected said pics in 1995-2001);

the side of Pete that has a lot of insecurities, many of which are grounded in how he has trouble reconciling how much he loves being around people and wants to be popular, with how much he, A., doesn’t actually like most people, and B., is terrified that his shit-bag Dad was probably right and he is fundamentally unlovable;

and the side of Pete that baby-talks at cats for 10+ minutes without getting bored, or showing any signs of stopping at all until said cats get tired of him and leave.

And it’s not like Pete let Seb see said sides of him as some kind of test or anything like that. Some of them came out by happy accident

While others came out because Pete still thought of Seb as, “that freshman who is my peer mentorship kid now or whatever, I guess, and wouldn’t you know it, I got matched up with the one who might be the only other gay kid at St. Andrew’s who doesn’t think he needs to hate himself for it,” and Seb really wanted Pete to like him and tried so hard to be accommodating and unobtrusive that Pete did, sometimes, kinda forget he was still there.

But then Seb found most of these things genuinely endearing in one way or another, which Pete found deeply confusing, so he took more of an active interest because he wanted to find out what Seb’s deal was…… and eventually, he had to conclude that Seb’s deal was just wanting to be his friend, and not because he got anything extra out of it or because of the version of himself that Pete played at school, but because he liked Pete exactly as he was.

By that time, Pete had learned about enough of Seb’s quirks to say that he was, “different and not boring” for other reasons, but… yeah, no. The big reason why Seb was initially, “different and not boring” was that he genuinely wanted to be Pete’s friend

Romantically, though, Pete tends to insist that his preference is, “Chris Evans or at least Chris Evans-adjacent.” It’s true that he has a big Thing for Chris Evans, but it’s nowhere near as all-consuming as he likes to make it out to be (but most people probably don’t get to know that because…… mmm, nah. Pete doesn’t want to talk about it with you, probably).

Historically speaking, he has tended to date other guys in theatre, but that’s more due to proximity than actual preference. He likes people who can keep him on his toes, in general but especially intellectually.

Being, “taller than him but not by as much as Sebastian” is also a good thing, because while he likes guys who are taller (and… I mean. He’s 5’10”, so it’s not like he’s short or anything), being over 6’3” is a deal-breaker because he already has a best friend who’s 6’3” (and the guy he wants his best friend to please date already is 6’1”), and being around too many people who are noticeably taller than Pete kinda makes him feel short and potentially threatened.

But, seriously, if anyone has Chris Evans’s number? Pete wants it. Please.

………What?! He said, “Please.”

45: Your character would _______ for a klondike bar.

Pete would not go out of his way or really do anything in particular for a klondike bar because he doesn’t want one, because if he’s going to eat ice cream, then it’s going to be interesting and quality ice cream, and not something cheap and kinda gross that he could get at 7-11 at 2 AM.

He would, however, invite everyone else to do all manner of ridiculous shit for a klondike bar. Just wait for him to make popcorn before you start, okay?

MARGOT25: When put into X situation, your character is calm and collected and patient, while others may be anywhere from confused to panicking and screaming. Talk about X-Situation and why it means what it does to your character.

This could be said about Margot in most situations, really. She’s an example of someone who could definitely be called an introverted extrovert, because she has superficial ease at dealing with people

Despite how she, like Pete, doesn’t really like most people, she’d actually rather be around people than not because she hates feeling unproductive and mentally sluggish, and one of the ways that she gets the most mental stimulation is being around people and listening to them, if not always talking to them

Also, when she’s not around people, it’s easy for her to slip into, “this is why you don’t leave some people alone with their thoughts” territory (which, for Margot, generally involves forcing herself to come up with ideas, which most often means schemes that are probably really bad ideas, but she doesn’t fact-check very well, and when she goes over them for holes, she’ll put safety measures and backups in place for the wrong things — which would be fine, if these things stayed limited to the realm of her elaborate fantasy life as a masterclass art thief, but they usually don’t. Whoops.)

(Pete, on the other hand, would rather be around people than not because he thrives off of social stimulation and affection [though good luck getting him to admit that], and when he slides into, “this is why you don’t leave some people alone with their thoughts” territory, it tends to involve the, “maybe my Dad was right and I’m just unlovable” thing)

—but either way, despite having ostensible ease in dealing with people (and being Extroverted in the MBTI sense, being an ENTP), she’s nevertheless introverted in the sense of playing her actual feelings close to her chest, not opening up to most people (even her boys — Seb, Pete, and Todd — have trouble getting her to be more open about her feelings or what’s going on for her without needing to either needle her a bit, or wait for Margot to open up or get too emotionally overwhelmed to keep it down on her own)

The flip-side of this is that it’s easy for her to go into an intellectual mode while everyone else is losing their heads, even when they are, for example, stuck in the middle of a super-villain’s attack on her office (which, seeing as she’s an accountant and her firm has some pretty big deal contracts with companies like Lockheed and Boeing, plus a handful of contracts with local government in Baltimore as well as the U.S. Federal government, happens…

…eh, it’s not something that happens every month? But there’s an Incident of some kind at her office more regularly than there would be if she worked at Coca-Cola, Nestlé, or D.H. Morgan, but less regularly than there would be if she worked at somewhere that’s way more immediately accessible or target-able, like a bank or a Walmart or a Starbucks or the production company that makes the All-Stars’ big shiny reality show)

Frankly, she should lose her head more often, because it’s pretty damn unhealthy to force herself to repress everything and stay cool while, for example, keeping her head down and just trying to ignore it while Those Two Super-Tools are fumbling all over the pre-written speeches they were given to throw at the people they’re trying to get certain invoices and books from, and it would be laughable if they didn’t have, y’know, guns and possibly henchmen who are infinitely more competent than they are

(which is usually what happens when Those Two Super-Tools go on any given job, because seriously, Edward and Dezi are just BAD. at EVERYTHING. if they weren’t super-fascists with deeply off-putting personalities and over-inflated senses of white straight male entitlement, you could almost feel bad for them because they want so much to be good at something but they suck at everything, like they are just terrible)

—or, like. If your no romo soulmate person has been kidnapped by ecoterrorists because he didn’t believe his ex when said ex flat-out admitted to being an ecoterrorist (because, “seriously, what kind of ecoterrorist admits to being an ecoterrorist on the first date?”), then it would be understandable to, like…… take a break and not work on your own attempts at finding and saving him, working behind the backs of the people who are trying to do so in an official capacity, and doing it with tools of your own devising or purchasing that aren’t necessarily reliable

Buuuuuut y’know what Margot did when that happened?

Yeah, she stayed awake for several days, doing that thing that I just said with the unsanctioned attempts at finding Seb on her own, and only crashed out after Seb had been retrieved, when she and Todd got on a train up to Penn Station (where they needed to switch to a train to Ossining)

LUCY26: Conversely, when put into Z-Situation, your character faints/screams/freezes with terror/is otherwise unable to respond properly in the situation and should probably not be allowed to lead here. Talk about Z-Situation and what it means to your character.

On one hand, it’s not that Lucy shouldn’t be allowed to go clubbing, and she’ll handle it just fine once you give her a couple minutes to adjust to it

But her initial reaction to a club environment — and to most places that are loud and full of people, whether they’re clubs or Times Square or Disney World or a music festival or whatever — is to kind of freeze up and go, “ehhhhhhh” for reasons involving there being a lot of sensory information that’s suddenly swooping in to be all, “HELLO THERE LUCY YOU SO WANT TO BE OVERWHELMED RIGHT NOW, YEAH? :DDDDD”

—which also sucks for her because she really LOVES new sensory experiences. They excite her, she wants to DO ALL THE THINGS and stick her hands into everything and LEARN STUFF OMG THIS IS ALL SO COOL OKAY, and she thrives on new experiences like this…… but when they actually start happening, she needs a bit of time to adjust before she can actually enjoy any of it because all of that sensory input will be overwhelming at first, and she hasn’t really learned how to slowly slip into things or strategies for managing all of the sensory overload, yet

—and on the other hand, public speaking. She shouldn’t be wholly barred from this either, because, again? Give her a moment to just get herself acclimated, and she’ll be fine. But public speaking is still nerve-inducing and scary, especially since she’s usually doing this for reasons she thinks of as Super Important, so she doesn’t want to screw anything up, and that perfectionism makes it worse, so she gets nervous and awkward and starts trying to force things, and she can easily end up putting her foot in her mouth if she tries to improvise without thinking

But really, if you just give her a couple moments or help her to get ready, she should be fine

SARA GRACE13: Your character does ____ or avoids ____ because they associate it with having a good/bad day.

Sara Grace is one of those people who dresses better, does more elaborate makeup (which sometimes stays in “natural look” territory; sometimes goes in “there’s contouring but it’s otherwise not too far off from the ‘natural look’ makeup that she does”; and sometimes straight up goes into, “i want to look otherworldly and possibly from the moon” territory), and puts more effort into her appearance in general as she gets more and more stressed, because she has to have control over something, jeez

—which, on one hand, means that she associates these kinds of behaviors with having a bad day or a bad time of things in general, and if she shows up to something in higher heels than she’d usually wear, a cute dress with a frilly short petticoat, and makeup that she describes as, “pastel vampire princess” or, “queen of the Unseelie Court” or similar, then it’s a really good bet that she isn’t feeling well, and she might not want to talk about it, but you should probably be gentler with her than usual

for the sake of helping with visualization: I’ve been picturing Asha Bromfield as Sara Grace

ADELAIDE50: Some people take all the paperclips out of the box and chain them together. Name something useless your character does but never bothered to stop.

Alphabetizing M&M’s and Skittles by color before eating them

Which is even more useless because she’ll then portion them off into groups of five to actually eat them, and they get mixed up all over again

Saving all the orange Starbursts for last

Silently naming the animals she sees — e.g., ducks at the park — and then concocting moderately elaborate little soap operas for all of them in her head, unless someone interrupts her and keeps her attention focused elsewhere

#builttobalance #memes for ts #mine: writing #that story with the mutants that i should find a working title for fml #oc questions #sebastian moncrieff: mutant disaster #pete arden: dramatic disaster #sara grace kelley #adelaide moncrieff: ambitious disaster #margot gabriel: chainsmoking disaster #lucy murphy: hemokinetic disaster #drugs cw// addiction cw// death ref//#shitty tags i'm sorry i'm running out the door for therapy i'll fix them later <3

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mustapleko · 8 years ago

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So yall remember how I promised I was done with Sherlock like five years ago oh you do good because I made a word vomit about s4 click here or don’t because Idk how this happened I don’t have anything new to add it’s literally all the same crap that we have all seen already from mofftiss. Or at least was until the third episode because boy was that really fucked up or whaaaat??????????????

under the cut also spoilers or whatever. �� sorry mobile users :^)

I procrastinated 4 weeks watching the new eps. Yesterday I saw new cute fanart and was warmed and energized by my love for Sherlock Holmes *stops to wipe a tear* and found the willpower to sit through them. Initially I hoped that I’d be able to just enjoy the shittiness of it all. That I’d finally managed to break my emotional ties with this series (burning love for season 1 to deep disappointment in the rest) Still wrote a rant nobody asked for. And to the person who convinced me to finish this: fuck you this took me all night now im tired and feel stupid abt this but it’s too late to backpedal so fuck it.

EP 1:

And there went my fun bc the first episode ended up being so... bland. Plot was rushed and pointless. I laughed at one joke. The rest of them were so embarrassing, oh my god. The “lol sherlock is awkward” gag is so old and tired. And his characterization is all over the place. Like.... I don’t even know what to say. I’m not a film critic, I’m not here to say what I just said, I came here to laugh at stupid shit and be offended as a Holmes fan.

But I started a rant and so I shall do because the second half of the episode actually gave me two reasons: There is one thing that I judge harshly in every Holmes adaptation, and that is how they treat their Watson. And there’s one thing that really bothers me about this series, and that is Mary. All of her. This had both problems.

Summary: So Sherly is off the hook for shooting a guy in the face in the last episode bc he’s needed to solve shit for the government. He then proceeds to be a huge dick to everyone. The Watsons successfully have a baby and it’s small and cute and all. The three (four) of them go off to solve crimes but everyone keeps shitting on John and we get this really weird Mary x Sherlock episode. Then one of Mary’s ex-co-assassins turns up wanting to kill her because of some misunderstanding. That crap is solved (with guns) and we are again assured that her history as a secret killer agent is in no way a problem and everyone loves her unconditionally. Then at the conclusion of the case some more guns are involved and Mary jumps in front of a bullet to save Sherlock and kicks the bucket. rip.

I admit I’ve never had much interest in Mary in any adaptation. (Dumb personal preference. please I don’t wanna fight anyone over this, I do understand her importance.) Not because I think her a ship breaker or anything. I’m fine with her being involved. But she usually just kinda exists in the background. And ends up being disposed at some point This show tried to involve her properly but they made it so complicated. There’s no way to make her backstory fit comfortably into the setting. Not with John and Sherlock being more or less regular people. I don’t want to sympathize with her assassin ass. Again, my personal problem probably. But watching an episode centered around her was not fun.

I don’t mind them being a trio, but with this Mary the group is unbalanced. She’s too sassy and smart. Like having two Sherlocks. And considering what a charmer he is in this show...... brings us back to the problem I mentioned first. Which tbh existed before. Everyone’s really terrible towards John all the time! Still, after 4 seasons. I get that he’s supposed to be the normal dude who reacts to all the crazy shit happening around but.... He’s constantly being lied to, kidnapped, dismissed, manipulated and provoked into violence. My enjoyment of all things Holmes comes pretty much from the beautiful broship. But nooo, that’s too lame for this series, no homo.

I don’t wanna go too deep into that, it was talked about enough last season (“Is everyone I know a psychopath??”, “Why is everything always my fault??” & other Moffatty Stories). They do kinda try to convey how shitty this all is for John but it falls really flat. And that is so weird and frustrating because this show doesn’t actually suffer from a bad Watson like many others. They just don’t let him be a competent character. Meanwhile the person Sherlock is being besties with is Mary. Idk if they were trying to pander to the female audience or make her inevitable death sadder, but that was really weird.

I was happy to be rid of her in the end. Again, not in “hated the bitch” kinda way. That’s just the best course for the story to take. In that moment I had hope in the writers of this godforsaken mess. (Then her ghosting and becoming the fucking narrator later on ruined it.) It was dramatic and sad and all but they made that too all about Sherlock. And his angst. John’s been completely pushed aside?? And as rare as it is, I actually really like the single-dad-watson -trope. But you gotta let the man have some screen time

I just spent several paragraphs politely rambling when all I wanted to say was that Mary is terrible and I don’t like her and Sherlock is being a dick and I don’t like that either and the episode was boring

Time to list the good thing eyyyyy:

1. They gave John a new hairstyle for the season and it looks really good!

2. Yet another shitty dingy plastic skeleton in a serious crime drama. I 100% unironically love these to death no pun inteded

3. I was gonna write that I still actually really like Cucumberboy and he’s still very pretty but it took the episode 15 seconds for Sherlock’s personality to be too annoying for that to help lol

4. Yeah that’s all, it wasn’t great.

EP 2:

Now, looking at my summary you probably would not believe it, but God help me I had so much fun watching this one. Looking back, the plot is garbage. But how this was shot and acted out was exactly the kind of “so weird it’s funny” content I had been waiting for. I was in tears by the end if it. Most of it might have been late night hysteria I admit, but now afterwards it doesn’t matter. The episode is ridiculous, loud and energetic and idk how I’m gonna express that in a positive light the middle of a long ass complaint post. I’m not gonna say that this was the best episode off the three, I’ll just say I had the most fun watching it. Biggest minus points are for having to look at sherlock’s ginger teenstache through the entirety of it.

Summary: John is sad bc his wife is dead. And he keeps seeing and hearing Mary everywhere he goes. And we need her ghost to narrate the plot for us. But that’s not important. Because Sherlock is even sadder cos he feels responsible for her death. John wants nothing to do with him so Sherlock angsts alone, does a lot of unspecified drugs and spends the rest of the episode shouting at things coked off his tits. Then he makes a big show from trying prove that some rich famous old dude is a cereal serial killer, because the old bastard’s daughter visited Sherlock to tell him about her suspicions. But she was also sad and suicidal so they spent a lovely night walking out and talking about feelings. Or did they??????? *dun dun dunnn* Don’t do drugs, kids. Nobody believes him because he’s weird and high. Sherly is then convinced that he’s actually going mad, then tries to murder someone again, then gets beaten up by John again, then almost gets mudered again and somehow the bad guy still gets caught they get a happy ending from all of that.

And in the end it was ~all part of a plan~ bc mary told sherlo that if she were to die, he had to make himself as miserable as possible to guiltrip john into saving him to make him feel better about himself or some shit because we can’t have john having any control over his life now can we what the fuck.

Now, I understand that a drama about a super smart people like has to have some elaborate plotting going on that is all revealed in the end, but this show has a really fucked up obsession with it. Everything is according to plan, everything that is going to happen Sherlock already knew weeks ago. That really sucks the fun out of the story and makes the actions of all the other characters meaningless. Previous episode even had a whole thing about how predeterminism is bad, you are not listening to your own advice!

Yeah the original story of the Dying Detective was kinda fucked up. Culverton Smith (the shitty old dude) was some asshat who went around poisoning people. Holmes pretended that he became one of his victims and that was dying in order to get a confession from Smith. Then he lied to Watson about this all because reasons and used him as a just pawn in the plot. Not his finest moment, but in right hands has lots of potential as fuel for some angst. I don’t know why I’m bringing this up. It’s not like team mofftiss knew how to use any of that. Gotta say I’m not really feeling the canon references anyway. Either they are relevant to the plot, meaning they make the stupid twists even easier to guess, or they they are just awkwardly forced in “we just wanted someone to say this name, look at us we read the books” kinda of things ://

I took a lot of notes while watching this but now that I look at them I can’t really separate single things comment on. The show is trying too hard at everything it does and ends up being an all around fuck up. Middle of the night is also not the time for writing these, I’ve got nothing.

MMMMmmgood things listing!:

1. I really appreciate them hiring that one weird looking fucker to play Culverton! He keeps popping up in films and such and I’ve kinda wanted to see him play a holmes villain! He was fun!

2. Had some fun cinematography, especially for sherls’ deduction making pantomime

3. Sherlock’s a fun character to beat up and make cry ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

and no no no no no no please don’t bring irene back

.....oh good you just needed to mention her because no homo.

(actually I can’t leave my jab at that. because that wasn’t a suble no homo, that was sherly straight up gettin told straight dude to another -talk how he needs to get together with her specifically in order to be happy. and that was the most forced and desperate scene I’ve ever seen and I’m not gonna let that slide)

4. irene didnt do a comeback

EP:3

Summary:

*takes a deep breath*

Sherlock finds out he secretly has a younger sister who is a total psychopath (hi moffat). She looks like the creepy woman from The Ring and she’s locked in a super secret mental hospital slash prison in the middle of the sea because she did terrible things when she was a child and is supernaturally intelligent and super dangerous because she’s able to take control of anyone who talks with or gets too close to her. So she’s secretly in control of the whole facility of course. We had already seen her in several disguises in previous 2 episodes (I’m so bad at remembering faces, I fall for all twists where they have one actor play several roles) and Sherlock doesn’t remember her because he was so traumatized when she killed his beloved dog when they were little kids. We get some flashbacks about the Holmes siblings’ childhood and then the sister locks Sherlock, John and Mycroft in a Jigsaw kinda game / psychological experiment, which they have to pass by solving puzzles and killing several people. And it was all because she was so much smarter than everyone else in the goddamn universe so she was lonely and saaaaad.

........

????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

I... know this show was not supposed to be a crime drama anymore but.....

whaaaaaaaaaa...?

that was straight up a shitty horror flick. how.... did this happen....? who was it that was so salty that they didn’t get to work on Saw? I hope all the east wind references to the last Holmes story and the name of the episode actually mean that this show dies here because where do you fucking go from there? Like.... not to add to their charming mental institution plotline but that was absolute insanity.

2/10, have read better fuck or die fics before. with much less no homo. (I swear I didn’t even watch this shit in search of homo, this show has started overcompensating. hard.) spent half of this giggling madly like the 2nd episode and half barely looking at the screen out of secondhand embarrassment for the shitty “shoot me” “no shoot me” dialogue

(though: not gonna lie, really liked the reveal at the end when it turns out it wasn’t actually Sherlock’s dog the sister had fucked up, but lil six year old Victor Trevor )

(oh my god! Remember how people used to joke about the “old friend of mine” skull above the fireplace being Trevor??)

fucking hell

Oh yeah and of course no one important dies and then the whole thing ends with “All the sister needed was love and then everyone is friends again and it’s just like the good old times *coughseasononecough*. John and Sherlock are back to living together and now they are dads no homo tho and they gonna go and solve fun crimes and do detective shit again. A pretty violin cover of the theme song plays and we all ignore ghost mary’s terrible cheesy narration over it” all of which should have happened three episodes ago!!! this whole season was pointless.

#i dont fucking know this seemed like a good idea in the middle of the night #bbc sherlock #sherlock s4 #the six thatchers #the lying detective #i dont wanna tag this the final problem. that's a canon title and I feel bad for it

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