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madstronaut · 7 months ago

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I have updated this comment because I have been ramble-typing in my notes about how it literally arrested me and threw me in angstyhorny jail (bonk) and also I want to add it to my faficorantlist

BE WARNED, ABANDON COMFORT ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE (angst fic lovers, flocketh yonder), lol I told greeny going back to point out my favorite parts was akin to ripping open stitches, and also putting myself back into my unreliable narrator mode this fic had me recalling from when I was screaming on a similar emotional rollercoaster several years ago...

how do you even describe the weird mishmash of experiencing an immediate crush AND heartbreak and then the fucking theater of having to hide/pretend while having the two clashing feelings roil in your stomach like vomit??

"You laugh and slap her arm playfully as you leave the room. You’re an expert at that now" YEP THIS IS HOW humor can be such a mask sometimes

"On the off chance Soap arrived when you were coming out of the shower, he only ever looked at your eyes and quickly got out of your way." the absolute dissonance when the heart and mind war with each other...one pointing out hey this is why they appeal to us but also the other realizing simultaneously this is why we will never appeal to them PARADOX THY NAME IS READER (and 2018 me) 🥹

all the little bits about soaking up crumbs of attention while watching the flatmate feast - and seeing soap act so friendly with reader because they love them through the friend and feel safe with them - shredding my pillow, sheets, all the linens in my apt in angst for reader </3 </3 </3

"You put the chocolate in a drawer because you didn’t want to get used to tastes you couldn’t indulge in."

"He smiles, you smile. He leaves, you remain."

reader going outside to talk directly with price, the convo opening with "It was cold outside, bitterly cold."

"You knew better than to beg, to make compromises, to ask for a chance. Nothing would convince him. Maybe another woman could. But not me. So you turned to humour because it was safer than being vulnerable."

With wet eyes and a wobbly voice that you couldn’t hide, you say “so you think I’m pretty?” 🥹🥹🥹🥹 reader pls let me give u hugs, pep talks, set u up with someone-

He hits you with a look that you’ll never forget.

RAGGGGGHHHH THESE QUOTESSS I NEED A FUCKIN MEDIC

“In another life-“ he quietly began.

You cut him off, agreeing, “in another life.”

me, everytime I see fic title pop its head up in the story 😂😂

also me, consoling myself while consuming angst: there IS another life, and that is the fan-fucking-tastic universe of fanfiction, bless ye, fanfic writers, bless ye

You wish you could be in someone’s inner circle, but instead you were grateful you could float around theirs. once again crying for reader and also who has not felt this before?? picturing my emo highschool self, listening to linkin park while commuting on my sony discman, pre-finding my people in college. if I could i would go back and let madstroteen know it's gonna be okay (I wouldn't actually do so, of course, because rules of time travel duh)

"your flatmate shouted at the top of her lungs “you and the Captain huh?! Practically undressing each other with your eyes!”

“You never told me what happened with you both that night.” She asks, brows knitted in concern for you while her heart was shattered.

also god the angst is so palpably good like i can chew on it because both flatmate and soap, individually and together, are so well fleshed-out and are good friends - and a great couple - WHICH OFC ONLY ADDS TO TEH FUCKING ANGST AND DRAMA OF IT ALL

‘What cannot be said will be wept’ - truer words have never been spoken, when reader starts to sob right afterwards under the guise of "soap was so good to flatmate" like ugh the heartbreak but also the relief of finally being able to let out her feelings, even if its veiled - UGGHHHHH yes let it outttt

reader overhearing the wild monkey sex and yearning/getting off only to end in wallowing...my GOD reminded me of the total ouroboros of despair of 'need to get rid of feelings so I can heal and get new feelings for someone else and move on - but fuck i can't look at all these feelings currently taking up space - oh whats that are they growing FUCK - i need to get rid of...'

good news tho, friends - IRL this cycle can and will be broken, the power of Christ compels you- no but really sometimes it takes some painfully slow and steady exorcism-level intervention by yourself+community to do so

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This fic fucking destroyed me in the best way

i haven’t been in this exact situation (thank FUCK i think my innate love and loyalty for close friends would physically/spiritually/chemically/legally/emotionally not allow my mind and heart to even entertain the thought…so far, and hopefully forever) but I have definitely found myself with feelings for unavailable people (i am absolutely religious about respecting/keeping certain boundaries IRL but…sometimes with just the right and random cocktail of circumstances, situations and interactions, feelings just fucking bloom) and coming to terms with that with myself and ruthlessly working to destroy those feelings (while also feeling like I couldn’t confide in anyone/talk about it openly out of shame) was fucking brutal in every sense of the word

looking at you 2018-2019 situationship where I heard [redacted]’s voice before I saw him and fell hard at first sight hearing; discovered later he was Not A Good Idea™️🙃 after he came on way too strong and raised all the yellow-reddish flags, but maintained what turned into a close friendship (that everyone else thought was more than) to see where it went organically but because our heartspace/heartpaces were different had to watch him fall in love with someone else that people said was a clone of me… maybe this fic was closer to home that i thought 😭

i avoided certain songs foods fuck even places and movies for the longest time because i had to take time to untangle it emotionally from the other and heal from the scars of ripping it away from myself…BUT IT IS POSSIBLE DEAR READER 🫂🫂🫂 (i will give reader a happy ending in the multiverse of my mind lol)

youtube

I would like to give both reader and evergreeny a huge-ass hug and a long uninterrupted walk together through the cherry blossom colonnades/around the reservoir in central park in springtime to pep talk and decompress and process 🌿🫂💚🌸

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so that lil bit between the lines was my original comment but then ofc the beauty of fandom and tumblr is the interactions and community and had to add some thoughts after the ever lovely @evergreenfields reached out and messaged me and basically was like i love that my fic killed you but ALSO ARE YOU OKAY lol

I hope this isn't taken the wrong way but as I told greeny, In Another Life holds a special position in my mind palace halls with a couple of stories/movies that I have vowed 'Once Was Enough, Never Reading/Watching Again' because of how heartrending/devastating it was, how it will haunt me for awhile, and because it helped to purge some incredibly strong feelings in a surprisingly healing and draining (good) way - truly, a cathartic work of art

(I re-read it again tho just for you greeny 💚)

I love happy endings but i am just as much a sucker for standalone powerful tragic stories when told right (and FUCK WAS THIS DONE WELL) because as the late, the great Tony Stark once said, "a part of the journey is the end" and also cos hindsight is 20/20 (are these quotes corny? yes. do I love them? yes.)

One of the reasons this story hit me so much in the feels for me is that I was reminded not just of IRL heartbreak and defeat, but IRL healing and victory afterwards - slowly, surely, to a degree that really eclipsed the heartbreak in a really spontaneous, beautiful, unexpected, and eucatastrophic way (shoutout to my IRL beloveds) - the wisdom and perspective I have now, I would not have earned without having gone through what I went through - truly, something money cannot buy. Healing is possible and can happen even long after wounds have scarred over <3 (also tbh the alchemical powers of writing/fanfic when an author's work meets the reader and the various lifelens by which they absorb the fic - the result just creates emotional IRL magic and fireworks basically)

I will end my rambles with two quotes this fic reminded me of:

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.” - Ernest Hemingway

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.” - C.S. Lewis

(yes the narnia dude, I fucking love narnia sue me ok)

In Another Life

Hurt, no comfort, angst, I’m ready to break my own heart.

Your flatmate is dating Soap and he’s everything you want.

Pairing: Soap x your female flatmate, one sided female reader x Soap, Captain Price x reader.

CW: MDNI! low self esteem, character death (spoiler, not explicit), catcalling, voyeurism, masturbation, PIV sex.

A/n: I hella projected lol. Reader is broken.

——

Soap is dating your flatmate.

Most men that your flatmate brought home were wet wipes, but this guy was some kind of special forces. His eyes were electric blue and he had the thickest eyelashes, he went by Johnny but he also went by Soap, you never learned why. You had to mentally pinch yourself while staring at him, he was everything you wanted in a partner. You hated the creamy mess in your underwear when you were in his company.

He was muscled and shaped like an upside down triangle, you had to look away when he would pop out from their room in the night. Muttering “sorry ‘scuse me” as you squeeze past the narrow corridor, ignoring the rumble of his “no no, I’m taking up all the room, lass.”

You caught his thighs and bulge in his compression shorts when he left for a run in the morning. Later, your flatmate traipsed into the kitchen muttering “I can hardly walk after last night, let alone run!”

You laugh and slap her arm playfully as you leave the room. You’re an expert at that now. That’s not to say you were never happy for her, but your phone was currently not blowing up with your latest dating app matches.

——

On the off chance Soap arrived when you were coming out of the shower, he only ever looked at your eyes and quickly got out of your way. He only had eyes for your flatmate. You got to your room and stood in front of the mirror and wondered what your flatmate and other women had that you didn’t.

——

Soap was full of energy, ready for a laugh but very protective. You would listen from your room when he dropped her off late at night after a raucous night out on the town.

“Call me tomorrow, alright?” His voice is muffled.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Just call me when you wake up. You look like you need a lie in tomorrow. I’ll bring you breakfast.”

Tomorrow morning comes and Soap is early with a bag of food from a brunch spot nearby, he even brought you a coffee too. You thank him too much, maybe it wasn’t the coffee you were thanking him for.

——

Your flatmate and Soap came home late one night absolutely drunk out of their minds, they wobbled through the front door trying to dance to a song playing on his phone. They see you and it’s like they have heart eyes.

“Y/n, it’s y/n, THE GOAT!” Your roommate yells.

“The GOAT!” Soap hollers.

They both flop into the sofa either side of you. They’re too drunk to notice your teary eyes. You pushed the soggy tissue into your sleeve.

A dance tune starts up and before you can even recognise it, Soap bounces up with hands held out towards you both.

Your roommate grabs one hand.

You’re next.

You take Soap’s hand and you arc off the sofa, he’s strong.

You’re pressed up against his side. He’s hard, large and warm, you try not to enjoy the bodily contact as you all boogie to the song. You start to smile until you remember he isn’t yours.

——

“It’s only 2 days but I’m so excited,” she talks about her friend’s wedding in the south of France, “I’m wearing this dress” she flicks through her phone gallery “and Johnny is going to wear a kilt!” Muscled calves, big smile and rugged hands clasped at his front, Johnny looked like a million bucks.

“I love it, you’ll match!” You managed to squeeze out. You imagine the memories they’ll make and photos they’ll take. That night you have a 2nd date, you are excited by the fact he has asked you out again. It filled you with something resembling happiness.

You are meant to meet at a station out of town but you couldn’t find him at the small station and the path towards the car park was unlit and dodgy. When your date found you, he was annoyed that he had to pay for parking. He kept throwing red flags at you.

But still you slept with him because you wanted to feel touched and desired. You regretted it and then you had to take the train home later that night because he “had an early start to work tomorrow.” You wrapped your jacket around yourself to keep out some of the cold, trying not to be annoyed that he didn’t even attempt to make you orgasm or show any aftercare. You delete his number from your phone.

Later that weekend, the duo arrived home.

“We bought you back some chocolate!” Your flatmate says, Johnny swings his bag off his back, he passes it to you with 2 hands like it's a bar of gold. It could have been, with the way you looked at it.

“Aww guys you didn’t have to.” Your mouth is dry.

“Johnny found it, I didn’t know you were a sea salt and caramel fan!”

You put the chocolate in a drawer because you didn’t want to get used to tastes you couldn’t indulge in.

——

“He’s a prick, forget about him.” Your flatmate says pointedly about a new guy you were dating.

“Oi who’s a prick?” Soap walks into the kitchen, taking your flatmate’s waist in his hand.

“No one-” you turn away.

“A fuck boy that y/n isn’t seeing any more.” Your flat mate sounds proud by what wasn’t her decision.

“He isn’t a fuck boy.” You know you’ll regret clarifying the point, “we didn’t fuck, so he’s not. He’s just a prick.” You and the conversation. Soap whistles.

Later that night when you’re washing the dishes, Soap approaches you.

“Listen, forget about that guy,” he says low, you’d follow that voice anywhere.

“Thanks.” You squeak quietly.

“You will find what you're looking for, keep pushing and you’ll look back on this shite with a smile, maybe a misty eye, ey?” He bends forward to catch your eyes as you were trying to avoid them.

He smiles, you smile. He leaves, you remain.

The suds disappear and you turn off the tap, left in silence.

That night, they have muted sex, you hear their attempts at muffling moans and stifling strained grunts. You hear the bed frame squeak on the last hardest thrusts, then silence for a while. You imagine they feel warm, tingly and flushed, chests heaving. Eventually you hear footsteps come and go from the bathroom, the toilet flush going and the door shuts again. You wait for your heart rate to stabilise and your heart ache to subside.

——

“We’re going to the pub, wanna join us? Johnny’s friends are going to be there.” Your flatmate asks you.

You wonder if they’re as hot, funny and protective. You tell yourself you’re just going along for a chat, but part of you hopes it leads to something more; you put the hopeless in hopeless romantic. Put yourself out there, that’s what everyone says.

You wear a nice outfit that makes you feel pretty, your confidence isn’t abundant but you’re feeling yourself.

You arrive at the pub, you meet them, you chat, you drink, you leave.

Nothing about the evening was bad, his team were really nice, all huge and charming in their own ways. Their Captain was a greyhound with an intense gaze that seemed to follow you. Gaz’s girlfriend arrived and you thought you heard some rumblings about Ghost being pushed to date.

The Captain was receptive to you, leaning in to listen, you thought you saw him glance at your lips and legs. He helped you off the tall stool you were sitting on, taking you by your waist to help you down. You know not to push, men hated when women pushed. Well, they hated when you pushed. And you didn’t want to make anything awkward between you and your flatmate. So you left without asking for his phone number or a date, but he hugged you tightly and held your gaze for longer than you thought usual.

When all three of you got home, your flatmate shouted at the top of her lungs “you and the Captain huh?! Practically undressing each other with your eyes!” You laugh and immediately feel your ears going red. You were stoked that someone else noticed because you thought it was all in your head, as it usually was.

You didn’t notice Soap put a hand out to stop her.

“Babe. Babe-” he says “don’t go there.”

Your heart tightens. Your flatmate puts her hands on her hips, confused and a little offended as if to say ‘I know what I saw.’

“It ain’t like that, the Captain is… Price is… Look, he’s married to the job.” Brows knitted, the jovial spirit replaced with seriousness, “we don’t sit around and talk about it but he ain’t the type to mess around.”

You play it off “we were just talking, it’s not a big deal.”

It hurts when Soap says “good, because he’s a lifer.”

You close the door to your bedroom and mull Soap’s words in your tormented mind. The fuzziness you felt replaced by emptiness.

Part of you willed it to be wrong, that you were the woman to pull the Captain out of his self fulfilling and self imposed prophecy. You almost laughed at your audacity.

“I can’t even get a text back, why would he be interested?” You stare at the ceiling, the alcohol left your system and the room was uncomfortably still.

——

“You like tha’, lass?” you hear Soap rasp, you’re not sure if he’s taking her from behind or if he’s on top of her. The faint slaps, skin on skin, indicate it’s either doggy or the standing position your flatmate had once whispered about. The loud moans indicate it’s good.

You don’t breathe. You just listen.

“Oh god, Johnny please!” Your flatmate whines, the force of his thrusts evident in her stuttering voice.

You close your eyes and see yourself with Soap under you, knees folded under his bulging arms, hips pistoning into you with ferocious need. You argue with yourself but then you quickly surrender and slip your hand into your knickers. You draw tight circles on your clit while your eyes burn with tears unfallen. Undiluted shame and need fills you. You breathe sharply through your nose and then hold your breath, staying as quiet as possible. Both of your hearts raced, thumping against your ribs.

“Tha’s it,” you hear his muffled voice grunt. You imagine his massive hand grasping your breast, your hand follows. Their bed frame groans but yours is silent. Your flatmate’s voice gets higher in pitch and she comes loudly, he grunts, swears, the mattress squeaks. You push two fingers into yourself and quickly find your spongy spot, electricity rolls through you.

You come undone shakily and silently, tears springing immediately from your eyes as you ride the wave of your orgasm. Your hand clasps across your mouth as you try to stem the noise of your sobs. You feel disgusted and disgusting. You wipe your eyes with your sleeves. You check your phone, no text from him. You manage to fall into a restless sleep.

——

One night, you and your flatmate encountered an asshole at the station.

“Nice bit of skirt, that.” He leers at your flatmate.

“Fuck off, you prick!” You shout back without breaking stride, not caring he was bigger than you. This confidence was new to you. Or was it anger?

When you arrived at the music venue, your flatmate told Soap what happened, you couldn’t hear them as the music was loud and you were at the bar. You could see the look of concern and regret on his face. He stormed over to you and he pulled you into a bear hug.

“Thanks for taking care of her,” he says to your temple. He releases you but keeps his arm around your shoulder as you wait at the bar, his weight is comforting and protective. He then helps you carry the drinks over.

He adds “I’m sorry Gaz and Cap couldn’t make it, paperwork.” You’d heard that one before but this time you gave yourself the benefit of believing it.

During the gig was a slow acoustic song that hit a little too close to home so you snuck out to the toilet to wait it out.

But you could still hear the music as you leaned against the stall and picked at your nails, doing breathing exercises you’d read about, through your tears.

——

You began to feel like the only man in your life. You even treated yourself to a massage because the touch deprivation reached a fever pitch.

You scroll through the website trying to find an available masseuse. Their headshots were small but you were on the lookout for a man with a thick neck and prominent traps, you knew the silhouette you were looking for. Your masseuse didn’t have a Mohawk but he was close enough that when you closed your eyes, his hands, his pressure and weight became Johnny’s.

——

You were invited again to a party with the squad, moods were good but there were hints of them being away for an extended mission. While you heeded what Soap said about Price, you wanted to know it from the horse's mouth. You bantered with the Captain, and he bantered back, at first. It turned to flirting and you playfully slapped his bicep, joking that you could drink him under the table, knowing well enough that you couldn’t. You ignored the looks from Gaz and Ghost - it’s like they knew something you didn’t. And they did.

You found yourself outside with Price. He’d asked only you to come outside, you felt giddy at the prospect of him wanting to be alone with you. He was smoking a cigar, you stared at the lit end, hoping it revealed some kind of secret you could finally be privy to.

It was cold outside, bitterly cold.

“You’re a lovely girl, y/n, you’re, smart, pretty, ballsy,” he says, almost to himself. You’re immediately familiar with the tone. What came next would hurt. Your breathing quickens and there’s a pit in your stomach.

“I’m not in a place where I can give you what you want, what you deserve, darlin’.”

The alcohol seemed to dissipate from your system. Rejection was one hell of a way to sober up. You look down at your shoes and chew your lip to stop it from trembling.

You knew better than to beg, to make compromises, to ask for a chance. Nothing would convince him. Maybe another woman could. But not me. So you turned to humour because it was safer than being vulnerable.

With wet eyes and a wobbly voice that you couldn’t hide, you say “so you think I’m pretty?”

He hits you with a look that you’ll never forget.

“In another life-“ he quietly began.

You cut him off, agreeing, “in another life.”

You both went indoors and you summoned a smile from the deepest recesses of your being. You left early that night.

——

It was with bated breath that you left your room ready for your date. You were in a beautiful outfit that did wonders for your confidence. You spun around a few times in the mirror.

Johnny was at the foot of the stairs and he looked at you with his big blue eyes, you’re sure you saw his pupils grow. Your phone buzzed but you ignored it because you enjoyed being under his gaze.

“Look at you! He’s a lucky lad!”

“Wait, let me see!” Your flatmate's voice came from the kitchen.

Your phone buzzed again. You pull it out to see a stream of texts from your date.

“Oh you look gorgeous, girl!” You barely hear your flatmate. Blood rushes to your ears.

You read out the text message.

“Sorry can’t make it, hungover lol.” You sound distant, as if it wasn’t related to you.

“Fucking prick.” Soap says with no hesitation.

“Y/n…. Babe.” Your flatmate pulls you into a hug but you’re limp and embarrassed.

“Fuck it, I’m going out anyway!” You exclaim, pretending to be okay you practically rush out of the door.

The door shuts behind you. You want to cry but you squeeze your eyes shut and start to walk towards the station. You don’t last long, your vision is wet and nose runny. You end up at a riverside cafe, watching the world go by without you. What a shitty year, you tell yourself.

——

You hear a hushed conversation a week before Soap is due to leave for a few weeks. You kept your headphones on and nodded at them when you walked past, giving them privacy.

You wish you could be in someone’s inner circle, but instead you were grateful you could float around theirs. You put a mental reminder in to take your flatmate to dinner while Soap was away and to keep her from watching the news.

——

“Turn it down!” You yell at your flatmate while you go to answer the door, the radio is on blast while you both cook.

Through the peephole you see the unmistakable beard of Captain Price.

“Oh John, hi!” You can’t hide that you’re happy to see him. But then you notice his grave expression.

“Hi love, sorry to come by unannounced,” he’s standing straighter and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Is your flatmate around?”

“Yeh, come in.” Your stomach drops. You didn’t need to call out, your flatmate is already by the door.

“No,” she recognises the look.

“I’m so sorry, love.” Price says quietly.

“Oh god no!” She cries out and sobs, her entire body shakes.

You put your arms around her but your eyes are on Price, wet and unflinching, waiting for the confirmation of the news.

His blue eyes are overcast and tired, he nods and looks down.

“We’ll have to take you onto base if you wish to go through matters,” Price says quietly. You helped your flatmate get her coat on, understanding that you couldn’t go with her.

Price dropped her home later that night, you plated up some food for her but she couldn’t eat. You hugged each other on the sofa until one of you fell asleep first.

It felt like Soap would be bursting through the door with his infectious energy at any moment, but the silence was deafening.

——

You weren’t invited to the funeral as it was behind closed doors. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, you went from crying to intense panic attacks to bouts of guilt. You missed him, you missed his presence. You thought about the way his eyes would light up when you suggested shots at the pub, how he’d walked you both home and how safe you felt. Sure he wasn’t holding your hand but for a moment, you felt wanted, taken care of and significant. You felt terrible for mourning someone else’s partner so deeply and intimately.

Price came by a few times in the next few months, sometimes you were home, sometimes you weren’t. When your flatmate finally came out of her room, her eyes red and complexion weak, she would walk around the house like an apparition.

“I can’t do this without him!” She would plead, “I miss him so much.” You rubbed her back, silently wiping your tears, telling her you were sorry, over and over.

“John came by today, he sends his best.” She says.

“Bless him,” you say quietly, trying not to read too much into it, because all the meaning you longed for wouldn’t come.

“You never told me what happened with you both that night.” She asks, brows knitted in concern for you while her heart was shattered.

“Soap was right about him.” You said, “and that’s okay.” You breathed, hoping the more you said it the more you would believe it.

——

‘What cannot be said will be wept’ you read the quote over and over, you’d seen it online and it immediately brought Price into your mind.

His visits became less frequent, but he came by again to check in with your flatmate. He looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to pull him into an embrace and comfort him.

“Come in, she just got in the shower, want a tea while you wait?”

It had been 6 months since the news.

��How are you holding up?” Price asked.

“M’okay, trying to be there for her as best I can.”

“I know it isn’t easy for you either.” He said, “you’re doing good by her, you’re a good friend.”

Guilt and shame rushes through your system, you didn’t feel like a good friend.

“He was so good to her-” you start to sob, hands across your mouth, willing it to stay inside so you never have to confront how you really felt about him.

You’re surprised to be suddenly in his embrace. John consumes you, you’re completely surrounded by him. You grip his jacket, afraid to let go. His right hand rubbed your shoulder blades and his left hand held onto your waist tightly.

“I’m sorry love,” he whispered, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t good to you.”

“You don’t have to apologise for anything John, you haven’t done anything wrong.” You sounded throaty.

“I made you believe in something I couldn’t give you.” His voice is quiet, you feel it against his chest.

“In another life,” you manage to sob his phrase back to him, he can feel you inhaling hard, trying to catch your breath.

“Another life.” He says back, kissing your head.

“Take care of yourself, John” you say with a ragged voice looking straight into his eyes. You grab your bag and push past him out of the door. You can still see his sad eyes in your mind.

Immediately you regret leaving while he was still available and present. But then you think if he wanted to say more he’d have done so. Life is choices, he made his choice. And I wasn’t one of them. Your legs take you away from him, into the bitter cold.

#madstrothought #evergreenfields #angst hours #When fic makes you re-experience and re-process personal heartbreak 🥹#I WILL LOVE FANFIC EVEN (ESPECIALLY) IF IT DESTROYS ME #FaFiCoWriMo #impromptu faficowrimo #fanfiction #call of duty #johnny soap mactavish #in another life #Youtube

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lowtaxsa · 2 years ago

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Disney's Marvel's Avengers (2008 to Too fucking long)

Alright, folks, buckle the fuck up, because we're about to dive headfirst into the steaming pile of cow dung that is Disney's Marvel's Avengers. If you've ever wanted to experience the cinematic equivalent of getting repeatedly punched in the face while riding a roller coaster through a landfill, then boy, have I got a treat for you. With a runtime that feels like a never-ending descent into madness, this so-called "franchise" is nothing more than an amusement park ride designed for those who crave the sweet, sweet embrace of childish fantasy indulgence and bootlicking dick-suckery.

So, let's talk about Endgame and everything that's come after, shall we? But before you think I'm gonna let pre-Endgame off the hook, let me be crystal fucking clear: it's just as bad, if not worse.

First off, the plotlines in this godforsaken franchise are about as coherent as a fever dream fueled by bathtub gin and expired cold medicine. It's like the writers got together, threw a bunch of comic book pages into a blender, and called it a day. What's that? You want a cohesive narrative? Well, tough shit, kiddo, because you're getting a never-ending parade of two-dimensional characters and plot twists so predictable, even a blind, deaf, and dumb chimp could see them coming a mile away.

And speaking of characters, holy hell, where do I even begin? It's like a who's who of forgettable nobodies, each one more bland and interchangeable than the last. There's Tony "I'm a billionaire but can't figure out how to use a razor" Stark, Steve "I've got the personality of wet cardboard" Rogers, and Bruce "I turn into a green rage monster because I didn't get enough hugs as a child" Banner. And let's not forget Thor, the god of lightning or whatever, who apparently can't decide if he wants to be a Shakespearean drama queen or a discount Conan the Barbarian. Oh, and the list goes on and on, like a never-ending nightmare from which there is no escape.

Now, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the one bright spot in this unholy quagmire of mediocrity: Guardians of the Galaxy. Yes, believe it or not, there's actually a movie in this franchise that doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out with a rusty spoon. And before you start thinking I've gone soft, let me assure you that this movie is far from perfect. But at least it's got a sense of humor, a killer soundtrack, and a talking raccoon that could kick Tony Stark's ass from here to Timbuktu.

But let's talk about the real elephant in the room, shall we? Chris "the fat loser millennial who got everything he never deserved in Parks and Recreation" Pratt. I mean, come on, guys. Is this really the best we can do for a leading man? A guy who looks like he stumbled out of a frat house, still reeking of stale beer and regret? If this is what passes for a superhero these days, then maybe it's time to admit that we've truly hit rock bottom.

The special effects in these movies are about as impressive as a middle school science project, and that's being generous. I've seen more convincing CGI in a Geocities webpage from 1998. And don't even get me started on the fight scenes. It's like watching a bunch of action figures being smashed together by a hyperactive toddler, complete with the requisite grunting and shouting. Real compelling stuff, guys. Bravo.

The dialogue is a whole other level of awful. I mean, seriously, who writes this drivel? It's like they hired a team of angsty teenagers to cobble together a script using nothing but catchphrases and outdated pop culture references. Every time one of these cardboard cutout characters opens their mouth, it's like being assaulted by a barrage of clichés and cringeworthy one-liners. I wouldn't be surprised if the entire writing process consisted of throwing darts at a board covered in buzzwords and hoping for the best.

And let's take a moment to discuss the villains, shall we? These so-called "threats to humanity" are about as intimidating as a wet fart in a crowded elevator. I mean, we've got a guy with a purple chin who wants to wipe out half the universe because he's got some kind of cosmic OCD, a robot with an emo haircut and a God complex, and whatever the hell that dark elf thing was supposed to be. It's like the writers just gave up halfway through and decided to throw in the towel. The final boss? Yeah he's, uh, purple - like Barney the Dinosaur purple, and uhh... he's got a fucked up chin. And he's like a billion Hitlers!

Don't even get me started on the endless parade of sequels, spin-offs, and shameless cash grabs that have been spawned by this monstrosity. It's like a hydra: every time you think you've finally killed it, two more heads sprout up in its place. And just when you think it can't possibly get any worse, they announce yet another movie, TV show, or godforsaken theme park attraction to further milk this bloated, festering cash cow. Can anyone tell me who the intended audience for "She-Hulk: Attorney at Law" is? Because I can't see anyone with a functioning cortex going for that, and I'm pretty sure humans need to have functioning cortices to turn on the TV. Yeah, I'll wait - I'm already dead, so I can wait for fucking ever.

Now, you might be wondering: why am I even bothering to write this review? Well, it's simple, really. I've made it my mission to expose the truth about Disney's Marvel's Avengers and its insidious stranglehold on popular culture. Because, let's face it, folks: we deserve better. Or not, but I actually don't give a fuck about that part I think.

Well, buckle up, kiddos, because now we're gonna dive headfirst into the steaming pile of horse manure that is Avengers: Endgame. That's right, the "grand finale" of the entire Marvel Cinematic Universe – or at least, that's what they want you to think. In reality, it's just another bloated, overstuffed, self-indulgent exercise in corporate greed and creative bankruptcy. But hey, at least it's three hours long, right? That's gotta count for something! And to think, that's roughly the same amount of time it takes for Tony Stark to go through his morning narcissism routine.

Let's start with everyone's favorite smug, snarky billionaire: Tony Stark, aka Iron Man. You know, the guy who basically started this whole mess in the first place. Over the course of the series, Tony's gone from a charming, if somewhat insufferable, genius playboy to... well, basically the same thing, only now he's got a shiny suit of armor and a seemingly endless supply of daddy issues. In Endgame, we're supposed to believe that this self-absorbed, egotistical man-child is suddenly willing to sacrifice himself to save half the universe? Give me a break. Then again, it's probably the only way he could get people to stop talking about how his ego is bigger than his tower.

I mean, come on, have you ever met a Silicon Valley CEO? These guys wouldn't lift a finger to help anyone unless it boosted their stock prices or got them a glowing profile in Forbes magazine. And yet, we're expected to swallow this ridiculous narrative about Tony Stark nobly giving his life for the greater good, like some kind of high-tech martyr? Wouldn't he outsource the giving his life part to a Lithium miner in Bolivia? It's enough to make you want to vomit, and not just because of the terrible dialogue. Seriously, I've seen more believable sacrifices in a kindergarten play about the first Thanksgiving.

Speaking of terrible dialogue, let's take a moment to appreciate the sheer ineptitude of the script. I've seen high school plays with more coherent storylines and better character development than this cinematic monstrosity. The plot is so convoluted and nonsensical you really get to appreciate the comic book salad puree they serve with every fucking movie in this "franchise." Time travel? Sure, why not. Quantum realms? Throw it in there. An intergalactic scavenger hunt for magic space rocks? Hell, it worked for the last movie, didn't it? This script is so bad, I'm pretty sure it was written on the back of a cocktail napkin during a drunken game of Mad Libs.

And don't even get me started on the "humor" in this film. It's like they took all the worst jokes from a Reddit thread, translated them into another language, and then translated them back into English using Google Translate. Every attempt at levity falls flatter than a pancake, leaving you cringing in your seat and praying for the sweet release of death. Honestly, I've heard better jokes at a funeral, and at least those had the decency to end quickly.

But hey, let's not forget the "action" – if you can even call it that. The big, climactic battle at the end is such a chaotic, CGI-laden mess that it's nearly impossible to tell what's going on. It's like watching someone play a video game on the highest difficulty setting while simultaneously suffering from a seizure. And, of course, it all culminates in the most predictable, clichéd way possible: the heroes save the day, the bad guy gets his comeuppance, and everyone goes home happy. Well, everyone except the audience, that is. At this point, I'd rather watch two squirrels fighting over an acorn than sit through another second of this CGI dumpster fire.

Now, before I wrap up this long-winded rant of mine, I think it's important to give some well-deserved "credit" to the masterminds behind this mess. You know, the ones who are really to blame for dragging us all down into this quagmire of mediocrity. Let's take a moment to appreciate the fine work of the producers, writers, and directors who've made this delightful train wreck possible.

I mean, let's start with the producers, shall we? The Russo brothers, Anthony and Joe, who seem to have made it their life's mission to churn out these cookie-cutter superhero flicks with all the depth and nuance of a kiddie pool. I mean, sure, they directed some episodes of Community, so clearly they've got the chops to handle an overblown, self-important franchise like the MCU, right? And let's not forget Kevin Feige, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes, raking in the cash while gleefully pushing out more and more of these shallow, formulaic movies like some sort of capitalist assembly line. I can practically hear him cackling as he counts his billions, completely unconcerned with the damage he's doing to the cinematic landscape.

Then we've got the writers – Christopher Markus and Stephen McFeely – who somehow manage to take fascinating characters with rich comic book histories and reduce them to one-dimensional caricatures. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if they just threw darts at a board full of tropes and clichés to come up with their scripts. "Oh look, it landed on 'heroic sacrifice' – let's just shoehorn that in there somewhere!" They've managed to create a world where every character's dialogue sounds like it was ripped straight from a bad action movie from the '90s, and nobody seems to care because, hey, at least there's a big explosion every five minutes.

As for the directors, the Russo brothers (yes, them again), they've managed to take all the worst aspects of Hollywood elitism and distill it into a single, bloated franchise. It's as if they're completely oblivious to the fact that there's an entire world outside of their insular bubble of wealth and privilege, a world where people actually have to deal with real problems like poverty, inequality, and systemic injustice. Instead, they just keep pumping out these overproduced, self-indulgent spectacles that pander to the lowest common denominator, all while patting themselves on the back for being such "visionaries." It's enough to make you want to grab a pitchfork and storm the gates of their Hollywood mansions, just to remind them that there's more to life than CGI explosions and witty one-liners.

So, there you have it, folks: the creative "geniuses" behind Disney's Marvel's Avengers, a team of Hollywood elitists and ruling class bootlickers who seem to think that their sole purpose in life is to cram as much mindless, soul-crushing entertainment down our throats as humanly possible. And you know what? They're probably right – because as long as we keep shelling out our hard-earned cash for this swill, they're going to keep shoveling it right back at us, one terrible movie at a time. But hey, at least we can take solace in the fact that even they can't keep this train wreck going forever... right?

Now, I could go on for another thousand words about the myriad problems with Avengers: Endgame – the paper-thin characters, the nonsensical plot twists, the complete and utter lack of originality – but honestly, what's the point? We all know that this movie is a steaming pile of garbage, and no amount of snarky commentary or sarcastic quips can change that. So, instead, I'll leave you with this simple plea: for the love of all that is good and holy in this world, stop giving your hard-earned money to these soulless corporate shills. Disney's Marvel's Avengers is a never-ending cavalcade of craptastic cinema that should be avoided like the plague. If you want to waste your time and money on this mind-numbing dreck, be my guest. But don't say I didn't warn you. And as for me, I'll be over here, mourning the death of creativity and originality in modern filmmaking while I drown my sorrows in a bottomless pit of despair and cheap whiskey. Cheers, fuckers.

Lowtax's Score: Plot: -10 Acting: -9 Special Effects: -8 Directing: -10 Music / Sound: -6 Overall: -43 Each category in the rating system is based out of a possible -10 score (-10 being the worst). The overall score is based out of a possible -50 score (-50 being the worst)

#disney #marvel #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #high quality film #reviews #lowtax speaks #big blog

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controloffandoms · 4 years ago

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The Writers are out to play today

-the fact Veronica lives in the same apartment building as Buck

-Buck to Albert "We have to move"

-That whole Turkey scene with Buck and Eddie (I'm still laughing about it)

-That look Hen and Buck gave each other as the Turkey call ended

-The fact that there was a Turkey call in the first place

-That one woman that was listing off all the people she gave synthesized weed to

-Albert giving TV relationship advice

-Buck's whole date, I felt so bad for him

-"But I was there first"

-"I think he's onto us" - May Grant

-Bobby running with Michael's idea

-The trash run (omg, so fucking hilarious)

-"Michael did help me break into a bank vault once"

-(Though this story line of the off the books surgery stuff is not funny, but I love the fact that it's Michael, David, and Bobby all together figuring this shit out...but they needed to loop in Athena)

-(I support the amatuer detectives)

-(I don't like Hen's mom rn)

-(Loving the Hen and Karen moments)

-Athena's look when Michael congratulates his Detective skills

-(Now I feel a little bad about my previous judgement of Hen's mom, but I stand by it because it wasn't right for her to treat Hen that way when she was younger. Like, because she was proud, she shouldn't have made those demeaning comments towards her "isn't she too old for Med School")

-"Sometimes tomorrow shows up and bites you in the ass" -story of my life

-(I do want Hen and her mom to have a relationship though...it seems like it could be good for both of them)

-(I love the compilation at the end)

-OMG ALBERT AND VERONICA

-Buck: "Now I NEED TO MOVE" is the sentiment of that look Buck gave Albert

___

-the saturation drop is the funniest

-"Have I hit the arc of the covenent? Have I gone too far?"

- Lmao owen and gwyn's conversations always get me - it moves so fast and it always has a joke or two during it

-"did you just call me fat?" (call back to Buck's disaster date earlier)

- "there's gonna be swapping?"

-Owen is a little bit of a control freak

-(LOVE PARAMEDIC TK)

-"I don't need to check the other one, right?"

-(Detective Paul at your service, love it)

-The blenders? Owen, seriously? XD

-"This is a hostile takeover"

-(I have a cat slow tea steeper, so I support that addition)

-"You shoot one holiday play vertically..."

-TK antagonizing the team, lol

-(Nancy is trying...and I think she likes having TK on board, but she has some grief to also work through...and I think TK needs to read the room a little to see that)

-but the "Live in it a minute" line sent me

-"no offense, but is this your first day?"

-"TK, any metal in your body I need to know about?"

-lol, underdressed firemen and paramedics

-(Nancy is jealous, which she doesn't need to be...they're a team)

-lol, the cups are at the station

-"the hillbilly grin"

-"New little Texan" - I love you Judd

-"tiny coffee cups"

-TK is being a rule pusher

-Omg, TK, that's not what the siren is for

-(oof, I feel equally bad for Tommy and her kid)

-But the "are you going to ask," Nancy throws TK...I did let out a small laugh

-(TARLOS!!!!!!!!!)

-"Nancy hates my guts" (TK, she doesn't hate you...she's still grieving.) (it's like you're now her younger sibling, she's going through the mini crisis you had when you found out about your brother)

-(love Carlos trying to being the sensible one) (Beautiful Tarlos scene)

-(Good Grace and Tommy)

-(Enzo? Seriously? Same, Owen, agreed. He gets to be a little pissed.)

-The bowl "it's too beautiful"

-"I need you to spit in this cup" and Owen's face (though I hate that they're having this drama. Like, please *eye roll*)

- (Charles, I support him supporting Tommy...don't be mad at him, he was trying to help)

-lmao, food fight (love that) (the family feels!!!!!)

-(TK bringing everyone together!!!! I freaking support it!!!! This is part of the reason why I love the idea of Paramedic!TK)

-Sloth Tea steeper! Love it!

-"the otter...""It's a sloth"

-"It's sloth urine"

-(one thing, the baby isn't an it. We found out it's a boy.)

-(I don't like this pregnancy storyline, but seriously?)

-(Owen, no but I feel)

-(I don't feel safe after the promo)

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favescandis · 4 years ago

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NEW interview with Alexander Skarsgård about Godzilla vs. Kong and The Northman with Uproxx

Alexander Skarsgard Knows You Don’t Care About Him In ‘Godzilla Vs Kong’

MIKE RYAN, SENIOR ENTERTAINMENT WRITER MARCH 30, 2021

Yes, Alexander Skarsgard is under no false impressions that you are looking forward to Godzilla vs. Kong to see the adventures of his character, a geologist named Dr. Nathan Lind. You see, Godzilla has been causing some problems for humans for unknown reasons and, just maybe, Kong can take care of business and let Godzilla know that his antics aren’t appreciated by means of a knuckle sandwich. And Dr. Nathan Lind has been studying Kong for years and has a good idea of what Kong’s motivations might be and what Kong actually wants.

So, yes … there are times where there is not a lot to talk about when even one of the lead actors in a movie admits people aren’t coming to see him or his character. Though from past interviews, I know Skarsgard has a pretty good sense of humor, so the real questions soon devolved into kind of outlandish fake questions and, luckily, Skarsgard ran with them.

Also, Skarsgard’s next film is The Northman, which is interesting for a couple of reasons. First, he teams with Robert Eggers, which will be the director’s followup to the acclaimed The Lighthouse. Second, it will completely screw up Google searches for True Blood fans searching for Skarsgard’s character, Eric Northman. And, yes, he’s thought about that and wonders how many people will show up expecting to see vampires. (There will be no vampires.)

It’s funny, because just the title of this movie, that isn’t false advertising.

Oh yeah.

Multiple fights.

It’s almost a two-hour-long movie, and it’s like an hour and 55 minutes of fighting.

So what’s this like for you? When you sign onto something like this? Because it’s Godzilla and Kong and they’re going to wind up getting a lot of the attention.

It’s humbling for a narcissistic actor like myself, to be put in my place, to show up on set and know that no one will go to see this movie because I’m in it.

Well, that’s not true. I have noticed over the years you do have a fan base that goes nuts for you.

That’s flattering to hear. But I’m under no illusion that I’m the star of the show and that anyone will go see the movie because they want to see Nathan Lind, the geologist.

The geologist.

Yeah, well, in a way, to be a vessel and a way for the audience to get to know, in my character’s case, Kong, more so than Godzilla, because I’m with Kong throughout the movie. But in a way to not necessarily humanize Kong, but to show a different side of Kong, to show that he has empathy. He’s lived a very solitary, lonely life on Skull Island without social connections, without family. And the thought of him to be reconnected, or to find his family in Hollow Earth is, is kind of the driving force, to reconnect. So I felt like my job was kind of set that up in a way and to kind of show the audience that side of Kong.

Well, you said people aren’t coming to see Dr. Nathan Lind, the geologist. But once here, where you tell me, how you’ve spent the last five years, studying with geologists and following them around and becoming a trained geologist yourself, people will look at this in a different way.

Right? Well, that’s how seriously I take my job.

You threw yourself into it. The last, maybe, ten years, you’ve been studying with geologists, just to know exactly what you were doing in this movie.

It’s just the kind of actor I am, Mike. Even though I play a very peripheral character and no one cares, I still take my craft seriously. And that means a decade of studying geology and living, breathing the character. Just to give the audience that sublime performance that I give in the movie.

When you’re giving the technical jargon during the movie, viewers can rest assured that you know exactly what you’re talking about, because you studied for so long with trained geologists.

Exactly. And they can see that in my eyes, that I’m not lying. I’m not pretending. I’m not acting. I’m not playing a geologist. I am a geologist.

You are a geologist.

Yes.

So when you filmed at Hollow Earth, in the center of Earth, was that on location?

Obviously, it was.

Yeah, I could tell.

And being there was trippy. I felt like you can’t … the audience can tell whether you’re there or when you’re actually there, or if it’s the soundstage with green screen. So the only way to do it, when you make a character driven drama, like Godzilla vs. Kong, is to actually go there and actually spend time down there and be there with Kong. So it was six very intense months, deep down in the center of the earth with a gigantic ape.

That’s why we haven’t seen you in a while — because you’ve been down there.

I’ve been down there, with a gigantic ape.

Being serious, doing the “there they are” reaction seems especially difficult in this movie, with these being such central characters. And I know that’s part of the deal with a lot of movies, but this seems even more that.

Absolutely. Watching the movie, I could tell that I’m reacting to the wrong thing, like I’m reacting to something else. And they play my reaction to something that I think I’m reacting to, but many things have changed. Or they use that reaction to something else. So they kind of make it work. So it’s like, I look at something, and I think I’m reacting to something completely different, but I’m not. They completely changed that. So it’s quite a ride and exciting to watch the movie, because I’m as surprised as the audience. When I watch it, like, “Oh really? That happened.” And, “Oh, look at my reaction here.”

The scene that we all saw in the trailer, which surprisingly happens pretty early in the movie, where Kong just punches Godzilla in the face. So do you watch the movie and go, “If that really would have happened in front of me, I might’ve reacted quite differently than I did even in the movie”?

Well, that specific sequence, they actually had in the pre-visualization, so that actually looks quite very, very, very close to what the previs two years ago looked. So Adam [Wingard] played us that. So pretty much the whole fight scene was choreographed before we shot our reactions to it. So I knew that that punch was going to land, and that’s what I’m reacting to.

We’ve given Dr. Nathan Lind a lot of time, and we’ve given King Kong a lot of time. We haven’t really talked about Godzilla. He gets annoyed when people bother him. I relate to that.

Me too. Going into the movie, I was very much team Godzilla. I love the old Godzilla movies, like the ’60s and ’70s, that era, when it’s zero special effects.

Just a guy in a suit and it’s awesome.

It’s a middle-aged dude in a suit, kicking a miniature version of Tokyo on a set.

In your next movie, you’re working with Robert Eggers, The Northman. You’re done filming that, right?

We’re done. Yeah, we shot for six months during the pandemic. We started last summer and finished just before Christmas.

Did you look at his prior movies and just go, “I have to be part of this.”

Well, I courted him. I loved both The Witch and The Lighthouse. And was developing The Northman and was trying to find a director for it. It was a very different iteration of the script, and the story was very different from what we ended up shooting. But I had a version of a viking movie that I wanted to make and basically went after Rob. He was my dream director and I thought that he would be perfect for this. And that, when I mentioned it to him, it turned out that he was a huge viking fan and knew everything about the mythology.

That doesn’t surprise me for some reason.

Yeah, he knew so much about that world and that era and got really excited about the idea of potentially making this movie. And then he found Sjón, this Icelandic author and poet and screenwriter. And Sjón and Rob together wrote the screenplay to what ultimately became The Northman, the movie that we shot. So it’s something on that was slowly percolating and growing over the course of eight years. So, to finally be on set last year, with the greatest filmmaker of our time and some of the greatest actors of our time, was the highlight of my career, for sure.

Have you thought about how this will screw up Google searches for your True Blood fans?

[Laughs] Yes, I am very much aware of how problematic the title is.

Well, not problematic. True Blood fans are going to have to put in a few other keywords now.

Yeah, that’s true. That’s true. I do apologize for that. And I’m sure some people will be pretty disappointed if they go to see a stand-alone movie about Eric Northman, and then they sit down and it’s a goddamn Viking movie and not a vampire in sight.

I think they’re in for a treat, to tell you the truth.

Well, I hope so. I hope so. I’m very excited about the movie, but I have to admit that, unfortunately, there are no vampires in the movie.

‘Godzilla Vs. Kong’ hits theaters and HBO Max on March 31st.

Photo credited to Getty. [Paris Men’s Fashion Week Armani show, July 2, 2019]

https://uproxx.com/movies/alexander-skarsgard-interview-godzilla-vs-kong-the-northman/

#Alexander Skarsgård #Uproxx #Godzilla vs. Kong #The Northman #Alexander Skarsgard #long post

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let-me-make-you-proud · 5 years ago

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Tangled: The Series Q&A with Kait.

This is a recapitulation from today’s (September 14, 2019) Questions and Answers session with Kait on the Tangled Discord Server.

Q: Which Disney princesses outside of Tangled the series can you see Varian being friends with? Nonfranchise ones included.

A: I think Belle is the first one who comes to mind!! She’s super studious and goes against the grain…not to mention her father is an inventor who’s a little off-base! 🙂 I think he’d be super comfortable experimenting with Belle and her dad and reading awesome stories! (Maybe even sharing the Tales of Flynn Rider with her! …Assuming she hasn’t read it! Haha. ) He could also eat ham sandwiches with Anna. Sorry. Second thought. Lol!!

Q: So Kait, as a storyboard artist on the show what kind of little details, quirks or creative touches did you or any other artists put into Varian scenes you or others storyboarded?

A: Ha!! Any acting scene with Varian I had…I pretty much based off of Anna Lencioni (my best friend/ another board artist on the show.) Anna makes these very specific expressions and she gestures to herself a lot and closes her eyes and creases her brows and says things like “A-huh! Actually…” or “Um!!” Before making a point and it’s always reminded me of him.

She kept a “flynnolium” prop from Halloween with green goo in a vial in her cubicle at work so long it grew mold. She said she was studying it. She found scrap metal in her boot one day. She has a basement lab for her experiments and crafts. She befriended two raccoons at her last apartment. She is the most accident-prone person with freckles I’ve ever met…she’s pretty much him.

Jeremy Jordan’s reads give you so much to work with…and I love that character so much I feel a natural sort of understanding of how he might say something or do something…but Anna would always do these specifically Anna things that I had to use for Varian.

Q: Do you have any specific advice for aspiring storyboard artists or people who aspire to work in animation?

A: Gestural drawings help you learn to draw fast…which is a very important part of storyboarding. I would say storyboarding‘ s biggest requirements are clarity and speed. Lots of productions have different requirements in terms of what they look for from story artists. Tangled‘s leadership cared a lot about drawing skill, animation, layout, etc. because it more strongly informed the animation studio to have those things. The show I’m working on now (Monsters at Work) is a 3D show…so for our production, the emphasis is more on story and speed. We pitch ideas more than we pitch drawings…so clarity is important and acting is too, but we’re far less precious about tying down drawings and animating since we shift into the 3D production pipeline after story. The boards are still very important…but the more technical aspects are a *little* less so. The focus is just more on story and character and what the board artists can bring to their scenes.

So I’d say just practice drawing…maybe try and give someone a prompt or ask a friend for one. Choose a theme! Maybe vampires? What’s the worst thing that could happen to a vampire? What’s the best thing? What’s the funniest thing? What if they were also an alien? Or fused with a werewolf? Or chained to one? What would happen? Giving yourself a starting point for an idea will inspire you to explore all the possibilities for humor, drama, etc. in that idea. If you’re struggling to give yourself a prompt, try looking online…or maybe choosing a song you like or a passage from a book for inspiration.

There’s also this really fun thing you can do to study cinematography and shot composition called a “three tone” exercise. Basically…put on your favorite (live action) film, grab a sketchbook, grab a black and grey marker, and use the white of the page for your third tone. What you wanna do is (as you’re watching or while pausing) sketch a small thumbnail using only three grey tones of what you see on the screen. Draw the shot- where the characters are, try and duplicate the lighting…it teaches you a lot! 🙂 (Phew!)

Q: Do you have any fun non-spoiler head canons about Varian?

A: I think his favorite dessert is apple pie and I think he bakes recreationally very often! He’s probably a good cook. (Though he may have one or two minor accidents……a burnt thing here and there. Minor oil splatters….haha!!)

Q: What’ve been your favorite episodes, both to storyboard and in general? Of course, no specifics if it’s S3

A: Haha! Well…What The Hair and Queen for A Day have special places in my heart because they were such big moments for my favorite character…(Varian, haha.) But I’d say the episodes I had the most fun boarding are all in season 3!!! Which is exciting! I have to start compiling some work to post! 🙂 I think the episode I had the most fun with is one you guys will really enjoy.

Q: Will we get some interesting surprises (In Season 3)?

A: Without any spoilers- absolutely!! The show is always full of those.

Q: So We’ve heard many fans express why they love Varian as a charcter before, I’d love to know what drew you and Anna to Varian as well and why you guys personally found him to be a great character.

A: When Shane Prigmore originally pitched the character to me, he was much younger. He was like 11 or so, I think? Maybe 12? He’s still pretty young…but what Shane said was that he wanted him to go from this wide-eyed kid to this dark, angry person whose bangs fell over those wide, bright eyes…just full of rage. That idea was super interesting to me…it just hit on something in character development that I felt like I’d never exactly seen before? He was so young and it was such an interesting idea to me to make a child the villain and to give that child a strong reason to be angry? It felt like it was taking this child very seriously, which I appreciate. It felt very real and very dark.

The thing that threw me through a loop but also evolved my fascination with the character was Jeremy Jordan’s casting. I listened to a lot of the auditions they had for various actors and I had seen a ton of Shane’s concept art of the character…a lot of them were VERY different than what we have now. One version Ricky Roxburgh (writer) contributed to had Varian cast as an adult in the story. But when I heard Jeremy I felt like I totally understood who Varian really was.

He was a well-intentioned disaster with unchecked emotions. That. Is me! Haha!! I see myself in his imperfections, his emotionality in spite of his creative and often intellectual thinking. He wants to ascend to these levels he may not be ready to ascend to…he feels this need to prove himself and seek validation. I don’t know, I guess I relate to that! And I’m just a sucker for good guys gone bad. The other half of this, of course, is that he’s very charming and cute and super reminds me of my best friend, Anna Lencioni.

Q: Which character do you most like seeing interacting with Varian?

A: It’s a little spoilery for me to reveal that……..but I think you guys are gonna know when it happens! Haha!

I can’t wait to post THOSE boards

That’s actually right out of the episode I think I liked boarding the most, haha.

Q: If there was one prop (furniture, object, the like) from the Tangled series that could be made real and you could keep, what would it be..?

A: I think it’d have to be those little alchemy orbs that Varian throws? They just suddenly clean the whole castle hallway somehow and like…could use me some of that. He also has the one that removes stains from tablecloths, so. I’m sloppy. That’d be a big help. Haha!

Also his staff is pretty cool 😉, I boarded/created that staff…David Lee (prop designer) did its final design…haha

Q: I have a question about a scene in season 1. When Varian got back the first part of the scroll he mentioned that it took him a while to translate it. Has he really been able to read it or has it been a bluff?

A: Varian can indeed translate what’s on the scroll. 😉

Q: Do you have any networking advice for those trying to get into the animation industry?

A: Post your work!! Make it easily accessible, tag it well, just show what you’ve got online! Upload boards, animatics, drawings, etc. Creating an online presence can really help put your name out there. Apply for internships, jobs. I know it’s hard to network because a lot of industry professionals don’t have time to answer specific questions or give portfolio reviews…so it’s sort of important to take some initiative on that and be self-motivated.

For me, I studied the portfolios of Disney feature story artists, CalArts students, etc. and tried to structure the presentation of my work based on that. Also, it helped me get a sense of what pieces of work would best showcase where I was trying to go and what I was trying to do. I’d ask yourself those questions as you develop a portfolio and artistic voice online! 🙂

My first feature job after a trainee program in New York at Blue Sky happened because Doug Sweetland (Pixar animator, feature director, awesome dude) found my work online and liked it. He just reached out based on that!

Shane Prigmore actually reached out to me for Tangled similarly.

Q: Besides Varian, do you have a favorite character that you’ve boarded?

A: I always love Eugene. He’s the second character I think I’m most like. His acting was really fun to play with and I felt like I could push his expressions a lot because he’s so funny. I loved boarding Lance too (I boarded a lot of Lance in S3!!) but MAN was he hard to draw, haha! His face shape is just really hard to draw at certain angles.

Q: With Varian cosplay that is going on, what Disney character would you like to see Varian dress up as next?

A: Jack Skellington! Halloween is afoot. Jack is another well-intentioned disaster. Guess I have a type!

Q: What’s Varian’s opinion on raccoons, are they his favourite animal?

A: I imagine it’s because Ruddiger is always finding interesting things in the trash and giving them to Varian to use in his experiments. Also, they’re fat and cute.

Q: There’s a bit of an argument going on over how many freckles Varian has. Can you confirm how many he has?

A: Ha!!! Yes…one second… 14!!

Q: How big do you think Corona is? Like Vatican City small or Arendelle big?

A: You know, with the wall and all, it actually feels a little on the smaller side to me? I’m sure there’s a little bit of discrepancy between the movie’s version of Corona and our version…but based on where we went within Corona on the show, I’d say it feels on the smaller side.

Q: Are there any non-spoiler Varian scenes or moments that didn’t make the cut that you can share?

A: MAN. Yes. There is one scene that changed after I rolled off the episode and I’m very sad about it. I’ll post it after the episode airs! There was also a line of Varian’s that I boarded to a specific read from Jeremy Jordan and that read was not chosen in editorial later so…I’ll post that one too, haha!

Q: What is your favourite song from the first two seasons so far?

A: All my favorite songs are in season threeeeee…hahahaha!! I think Let Me Make You Proud or the Buddy Song are my favorites. Buddy Song still gets stuck in my head now and then.

Q: What do you think Varian would order at a drive-thru? Specifically at chipotle 😂

A: Chipotle isn’t a drive thru!! Hahaha He’d get the kid’s quesadilla from chipotle. I think Varian is a fries/chips kind of person…something to snack on while he works! He probably also likes milkshakes.

Q: (Continuation from the question above) Chocolate or vanilla?

A: He’d revolutionize by combining them both. FOR SCIENCE!

Q: What is, in your opinion, the most challenging part of varian’s design to draw?

A: His goggles, hahaha. Or just his…hair in general.

Well it’s funny too because when you board these guys, you get used to doing a shorthand for them and then when you go to draw them FOR REAL you realize how complicated that actually is and how wrong your shorthand actually was? Hahahaha

Q: is Varian ticklish at all?

A: I feel like Varian, Eugene, and Lance are all equally ticklish. To the point of absurdity. Cass would fight it as long as she could…but when it finally got to her, she’d laugh uncontrollably. Rapunzel, she’s the TICKLER.

Q: What do you think Varian opinion and belief on magic is now that he’s seen it with his own eyes?

A: I imagine that he certainly believes in it now and no longer underestimates its powers…but I imagine he’s ultimately more comfortable staying in his own lane and working with worldly properties!

Q: If Varian would have been able to meet Demanitus…how would their conversation had looked like?

A: I feel like Varian would have had a TON of questions about his legendary device and whether or not he truly traveled dimensions.

Q: Did Varian have any other friends in old Corona before he met rapunzel?

A: Probably not many…he’s a bit of a hermit. I think Ruddiger is his best friend……. It’s sad but I also think that’s kind of why it hurt so bad when Rapunzel wasn’t able to help him. Also why he was SO excited to have Rapunzel, Cass, and Eugene come visit.

I think the village looked at Varian as a little unstable or worrisome. I’m sure everyone knew he was very nice…but they were likely very unnerved by his inventions.

Q: Do you think Varian ever tried to synthesise gold or the elixir of life like a real alchemist?

A: I’ve wondered that myself!! I think his alchemy has proven to be more about other people…helping others, making people proud. Maybe if someone he cared about was in need.

Q: If you were to meet Varian in real life, what would you say to him?

A: What elixir did you make to get THAT kind of volume? His hair’s so POOFY! Honestly, I’d probably just give him a hug.

Q: How much does Varian know or remember about his mom?

A: I’d say about as much as the photo of her on the wall.

Q: Is there spoiler about his hair streak? Or is it just by design?

A: It’s totally by design. I think it’s safe to assume it’s probably the result of some lab accident!

Q: In what ways is Jeremy Jordan like Varian?

A: I don’t know Jeremy Jordan personally, haha! But I think a lot of these inflections he adds to Varian sort of off the cuff probably come very naturally to him. I know he often wants to do his own pass at the musical arrangement Alan Menken writes…like he’ll want to do something a little different, in his own way, and it will change the song completely!! In an awesome way. That’s a little Varian-esque. In the “Let Me Make You Proud” reprise…Alan Menken had sung that “they are going to pay…they…will…pay” all in a low, downward tone. Jeremy wanted to scream it and make it powerful and angry and loud when he said “PAY” and you could just hear the spite in his voice for the “they will pay.” Genius!

Q: What was the most shocking moment/revelation of the series to you (minus anything season 3)?

A: It’s hard to say because I knew most of what was going to happen long, long ago. I think one of the things that made me go “oh dang!” was something Tom Canfield boarded. It’s that part in Destinies Collide where Lance slices the entire statue down the middle with a sword. What a BAMF!

Q: What were your thoughts on the early concept of Varian having an apple orchard and being a farm kid instead of a young alchemist?

A: He still kinda has those things! Quirin is a farmer as well as the village leader and there are apples on their little farm estate! 🙂 I think that makes Varian very unassuming as a mad little scientist. I’m sure that’s how (Ruddiger and Varian) met! Remember, he used his purple tacky goo stuff to catch raccoons so they wouldn’t eat the crops! And Ruddiger’s favorite snack is apples. 😉

Q: What is his official height and weight?

A: Smol.

Q: How did you guys come up with Varian’s name? And was there any other name suggestions for him before the name ‘Varian’ was chosen?

A: I’m not sure who came up with that name, actually! I’m sure it has something to do with the meaning of the word “variant” which means something that varies, changes in form.

Q: What’s his last name?

A: His last name!! I have NO idea and it bothers me!!! A Disney magazine referred to Varian, Ruddiger, and Quirin as “The Ruddiger Family” and I still haven’t stopped laughing about that.

Q: What sad Disney movie moments would make him cry?

A: Oof. Lion King.

Q: What musicals do think Varian would enjoy?

A: Little Shop of Horrors! I think he’d see himself in Seymour! Or Wicked…you know, that villain arc.

Q: How did Arianna and Fred meet?

A: I actually don’t know off the top of my head!

Q: Would Varian enjoy rollercoasters?

A: I think he’d enjoy how they’re MADE and then scream his head off while riding one, throw up his cotton candy and corndog, and go play carnival games instead. Then get mad that they’re rigged.

Q: So what comes next for you now that the series is almost over? Any big plans?

A: Well the series wrapped for production a while ago! I’ve been on another show for almost a year now! 🙂 I’m working on the new Disney+ show Monsters at Work as a director! It’s an awesome, awesome show…totally next-level…I’m shocked that I’m getting to be apart of something like this. It’s a direct sequel to the movie that serves as an office comedy (a la The Office, Parks and Rec) and has so many characters that fit immediately into the Monsters Inc world. Monsters Inc is my favorite Pixar movie…so I literally come to work and leave work on the same high! It’s an awesome, awesome show with a great crew! 🙂 It’s also just really exciting to be apart of the first original animated property for D+!

Q: How would you compare working as a director to working as a storyboard artist?

A: It’s hard work, just as hard, but in a different way! For me personally, I’m a little easily fatigued by drawing? I get a little creatively frustrated because my thoughts move quicker than my hand. Or because I don’t always feel like I can execute in a drawing what I’m thinking in the way that I want? Part of that is just being an artist…and it’s not ALL the time that I feel that way…but I think I have a certain stamina for drawing that I found challenging to increase.

Directing is just different! It has a lot more to do with managing a team, communication, coordinating, listening, speaking up, problem-solving, being very aware of story as it applies to ALL parts of a production. I don’t draw as often anymore. You have to consider a lot more…more people, more constraints, more difficulties, more opinions, more solutions…it’s just MORE. And you also still have to draw! 🙂 It’s very busy work, but it’s AMAZING and I love it. I feel like I’m contributing to animated storytelling a lot more in this role, actually. I love working with people, I love workshopping, and I love helping! I’m also just spoiled to be working with some great people right now. It’s a blast.

Q: Are any Tangled: The Series crew joining you on that show?

A: Yes!! Tom Caufield and Wendy Sullivan were on it for a minute, but they’ve both moved on to Dreamworks recently! James Suhr (board artist), Isabelle Gedigk (season 3 board artist), Naomi Hicks and Casey Coffey (revisionists), David Lee (props), Ricky Roxburgh (writer), and I are all working together again! It’s awesome.

Q: Does Varian, deep down, blame himself for the amber?

A: I believe he does.

Q: How do you deal with artist’s block?

A: I try to think about the intention behind what I’m doing. Why is the scene I’m working on very important to the story? If it feels unimportant or boring, how can I make it interesting? What can I do on my end to make it more inspiring or fun without going too far off the rails and still serving the scene’s purpose?

If it’s not work-related, I try and start with some fan art or something familiar for me to draw. I have a lot of scribbly Varians in the margins of a lot of my sketch documents. I use him as a warm-up a lot. It helps build my confidence to draw something familiar/ that I think I can draw pretty well.

Q: What’s the hardest scene you’ve ever had to board?

A: Oh God. ANYTHING with action. I’m not an action gal. Lots of stuff in S3. I was board partners with Wendy Sullivan and ended up getting a lot of action to board even though she’s WAY better at it than me!! It was an interesting challenge…but it was very, very challenging. Ben (Co-EP) was a great mentor to me in the scene I did for the mid season. He was very patient with me, despite my shortcomings as an action board artist, haha. I enjoy boarding for comedy much more.

Kait: Anyways, I should probably head off now! Thank you guys so much for all the questions!!!! You’re awesome! I hope you’re all super excited for S3! It’s a great one.

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #varian #Q&A #Tangled crew #Question & Answers #Kait #ruddiger #Rapunzel #Eugene #Lance #Cassandra

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kateknowsdramas · 5 years ago

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Melting Me Softly~Kate’s (very opinionated) Review

Alrighty, here we go. Let’s get this out of the way first. I know a lot of you liked MMS and that’s awesome. I am very glad you enjoyed the show and this review is not meant to attack you personally or your opinion about MMS. That said, I obviously did not like MMS. At. All. As I’ve said before, I have opinions and am not afraid to share them. So...let’s dive in, shall we?

Spoilers, obviously.

By Episode 4 of Melting Me Softly, I already knew we were in for a rough time. I wrote a brief piece on my comparison of Extraordinary You, The Tale of Nokdu and Melting Me Softly, here which gives more insight as to why two of the three are really solid dramas and MMS is...well...not.

I have to start by saying that I went in to MMS not expecting a lot. I knew it was a rom com and written by the Strong Woman Do Bong Soon writer so I had a sense we were in for some wacky storyline (frozen people and all). However, I’d waited for Ji Chang Wook for TWO YEARS so I was prepared to endure anything for him. And I did. We did. Bless all of you who, like me, stuck it out (maybe skimming through 90% of the episodes but still) until the last episode. Those of you who bailed - you are brave and strong.

The tl,dr version of my review is this ~ sloppy writing and bad characterizations. Which is, surprise, some of the main drawbacks of SWDBS. The writer doesn’t learn from mistakes, apparently.

The best part of the show is Ji Chang Wook and Won Jin Ah

The two of them are really solid actors and, bless them, they tried their best. They both gave earnest, believable performances in a script surrounded with “wacky hijinks”. JCW always brings a solid presence to his acting and pulls off micro expressions, wry humor and emotionally filled scenes like a pro.

I was wary of Won Jin Ah being cast opposite because of her being 8 years younger than him, but she was able to go toe to toe with him in the scenes and I was able to feel an easy compatibility between the two of them. Unfortunately, they did not have an “on fire” chemistry (see Suspicious Partner or Healer for that). Their kiss was good (he can have a spectacular kiss with a rock), but, honestly, the kiss between Dong Chan and Ha Young was way hotter in my opinion.

That’s the “good stuff” part of the review. Seriously, Kate? That’s it? Yep. That’s it. The rest of the show was a disappointment.

The relationship between Mi Ran and Nam Tae in the start of the show was beautiful. The scenes of her protecting him as a child and being reunited with him when she was unfrozen were some of the highlights of the show. Unfortunately, the writers did nothing with him in the last half of the show. The entire reason Mi Ran was frozen was for his benefit and yet the writer threw him away when he became inconvenient. Nam Tae was pulled out for us to “aww” at him and have his character tug at our heartstrings. A waste of a beautiful character and relationship that could have continued to be a core piece of the show.

As much as I did appreciate the chemistry between JCW and WJA, their characters’ romance felt forced and happened too fast. When they are unfrozen 20 years later, to them it’s just the next day. The day before Dong Chan was frozen (or a few days, whatevs the point still stands), he proposes to his girlfriend and declares his love and commitment to her. Then, within weeks he’s dumped her and falling for Mi Ran? Even with her not looking for him - I can’t believe that his promise to Ha Young would be so quickly forgotten. The writing didn’t do quite enough to drive that much of a wedge between the two of them (more on that in my later rant) and, as a result, it made the romance between Dong Chan and Mi Ran feel too convenient and unearned.

There was also no real reason for Mi Ran and Dong Chan to fall in love. Yeah, yeah, opposites attract and he’s protecting her - forced relationship to stay alive, etc. But why does she like him? And why does he like her? She’s cute and quirky and has interesting ideas and he’s cranky and controlling so what is it that attracts them to each other? There were some scenes that showed they liked each other but I just didn’t feel convinced that the two of them would have fallen for each other so fast without giving me more within their characters.

The biggest flaw in the show was all the supporting characters and their pointless roles in the show. Again, much like SWDBS where we had the goofy mafia guys running around and the crazy office manager, the same goes here. Fine, give Dong Chan and Mi Ran crazy families and have some silly situations from time to time to lighten the mood, but there was just so much of it. And none of it mattered in the story. It only served to clutter everything up and if you’d taken Don Chan’s family out completely it wouldn’t have mattered. Supporting characters should enhance and ground the story, not create chaos. Plus, the writing around Don Ju’s alcoholism was just gross. The only great character out of all of them is Seo Yoon, the adorable, snarky girl who keeps Dong Chan on his toes.

Don’t even get me started on the complete absurdity of the ex-boyfriend storyline and how he was an idiot in Episode 1 and an idiot in Episode 16 and his entire existence in the show was an annoying waste of time. Not even the tiniest bit of character growth there? Every time he was on screen I wanted to cry.

As I said in my other post, the biggest flaw with MMS is that the show spent way too much time focused on evil shenanigans and the wacky family rather than on the OTP and their struggles to adapt to 20 years of their life gone. Mi Ran and Dong Chan kept watching things happen to them rather than taking control of their situation. It just felt lazy, uninspired and cliche. The bad guy has a twin that he’s replaced? Really? I’m all for over the top story lines (I’m in love with a show about comic book characters, for crying out loud) but those over the top story lines should work for the overall plot, not against it. The writer seems to like the juxtaposition of these types of storylines but can’t seem to figure out how to integrate all the crazy characters and plot threads together coherently.

In order not to bore you too much (ha - too late, Kate!), I’m going to rapid fire the rest of my thoughts.

The medical fails in the last episodes were epic. “We can’t operate on her because anesthetic.” There are things called NERVE BLOCKS, guys.

Oh, the plot holes. Dong Chan gets the shot and it works, but rather than immediately going to the lab and having Mi Ran get the shot, they sit on a park bench and moon over each other?

And why does she have to make an appointment with the professor who’s ONLY JOB it is to save her? IT’S LITERALLY HIS ENTIRE REASON FOR EXISTING AND SHE HAS TO MAKE AN APPOINTMENT. I mean, what?

Dong Chan makes a declaration that he’s going to find a way to fix it so she can get unfrozen and have surgery yet he goes back to work? And mopes. And moves in with Mi Ran’s family. And mopes. And writes in a journal. And mopes.

We have a three year time jump because of course we have a three year time jump. Because...well there’s no reason to have a three year time jump but this is MMS so...whatever. #shrug

When Dong Chan is waiting for Mi Ran to wake up after the surgery - as a reminder, he’s waited THREE YEARS - why does he go to Jeju Island for a work meeting? He couldn’t have had the meeting in Seoul while WAITING FOR THE WOMAN HE’S BEEN PINING OVER FOR THREE YEARS TO WAKE UP?

We never got any kind of follow up to the HUGE reveal (seriously, this was a huge scene in one of the episodes with a lot of “dun, dun, DUN” kind of music) that Ha Young wanted Mi Ran to go back in the cryonic capsule and she was recorded saying this to the Evil Bad Dude. Dong Chan finding out about that major bombshell, that would have been a scene worth watching. And would have solidified his decision to separate from Ha Young. But, nah. Let’s drop it.

This is my favorite. Mi Ran gets unfrozen, has the surgery, wakes up and just...goes outside? By herself? Walking just fine? Unattended? Alone? After being on the news that she had surgery? And she’s in a nice dress? That she changed into by herself? And then went outside? In the cold? After having surgery? By herself? When she could barely walk after being frozen last time? Did I mention she was alone?

I really wanted to like the show. I had hopes and dreams. There were some moments of fun and genuine emotions, but not enough to save it by any means. If my bias hadn’t been in it, I would have dropped it at Episode 2. It was a very disappointing return for JCW. I hope his next project is better as he deserves a show where his talent can shine.

Thanks for reading. :)

#melting me softly #kdrama #reviews

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girlobsessed21 · 5 years ago

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The 100 6x11 discussion - burning desires of change

Hey guys, as usual, here’s my breakdown of the episode. Props to Mr. Bob Morley on his directing debut - insert applause emoji here. All in all, it was great, I enjoyed it, albeit a little weird. But it’s to be expected of a conversion episode taking us into the finale.

Like I explained in my 2nd predictions post, “Ashes to Ashes’ has Biblical connotation and it’s also a British crime drama about time traveling back to the early 80′s as well as David Bowie’s 1980 hit single about addiction.

Apart from Ash being Echo’s real name, I struggled to find the link to the title until it hit me with a wrench from behind. It’s about cycles, repetition, doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results (which Einstein did not say btw). Only now, it’s breaking that rotation. Demons are overcome (apart from Madi), and it’s time to do better.

Octavia’s no longer Bellamy’s responsibility, Clarke refuses to kill innocents, the children of Gabriel learn the truth, Miller disobeyed to transcend and Echo (or Ash), well, I’ll talk about her later. To Monty! Will this also be the end of the ‘will they, won’t they’ dance for Bellamy and Clarke? See my thoughts on this.

That said, let’s fall into the recap.

A child possessed

Okay, Sheidheda was a lot creepier in this episode than the previous ones. if Madi wasn’t completely overthrown before, it seems like she is now and her driving force is pure vengeance. The bond between Madi and Clarke is harder to break than diamonds, which we saw in season 5 and here again.

For six years, all they had were each other. Since the little Natblida was only six when Clarke found her, she won’t even remember her real family all that well. To Madi, Clarke was her savior, her family, her protector, her mother and basically everything else. Having such an influence taken away from you is artery-slicing.

The demon in her head knows this, plays on it and manipulates in a way an abuser lures children in with sweets. Given her age and lack of experience, she follows blindly. I have a feeling this might continue onto season 7 but I hope Raven finds a way to eliminate him. That face freaks me out. For now, he’s gonna cause a lot more damage than we anticipate and will probably be a spoil of war for the peaceful plan.

John Murphy - court jester or hero?

Yeah, he’s been a fence-sitter the entire season, but you have to admit, Murphy provides some much needed comical relief. Granted, the writers have turned up the humor via Bellamy, Clarke, and Diyoza, yet Murphy’s sarcasm should never be taken for granted. “Houdini Miller.” He might not make it to the end of the season.

If someone threatens the life of the person you love, will you protect everyone else or only that person? Ask Bellamy, he did the exact same thing. Risked the lives of everyone else to save his girl, of course Murphy will do the same. He wants to marry Emori, he’ll face hell to ensure her safety.

Still, he warns Echo in good old Cockroach fashion. Don’t let them find out I’m on your side, there’s but one side and it’s mine - and Emori’s. As long as the primes think that, he’ll have a chance of being spared. Murphy is such a great character, sure, he has deviated from being good, but that’s what makes him interesting.

The more layers and substance a character has, the more convincing and relatable they are. All of us have flaws, Murphy’s biggest one is his selfishness, does this make him a bad person? Absolutely not. He struggles and sometimes stumbles due to it but he still cares. Only the size of his heart’s in question, not the existence and it gets them out of some serious syrupy situations.

The makes of the Blakes

So, Bellamy doesn’t care about the delusional cult followers, he merely wants to save his people, to hell with the rest. In a sense, he betrayed them to rescue his love? soulmate? person? and has to make up for it. Now, Bellamy, did Monty not teach you anything?

Being so determined, he calls his sister the queen of cannibals. Killing her own people to ensure their survival. She did what she had to do, why can’t he? I didn’t know Bellamy even knew about this, why didn’t they show his reaction to finding out? Wouldn’t it have led to him cutting her some slack? He was in the exact same situation many times before.

Probably not. His whole life has always revolved around her, everything he did was to protect his sister to the point of borderline, unhealthy codependency. Octavia was his purpose and yet she threw him in a fighting pit to die after he once again tried to save her - from herself.

Gabriel then tells Bellamy his sister is special, she returned from the greatest mystery of Sanctum. If I remember correctly, Lincoln called her special too when she was unaffected by the biological warfare. There’s more to it though, in my opinion, I still think Diyoza will return, they were both called by the anomaly, why would only O survive? That anomaly is going to be some crazy wow-factor, I’m certain.

I believe a cult won’t be too happy to find out that its leader is the exact thing they’re rebelling against. And the children of Gabriel seemed pretty pissed, especially Xavier’s sister. That is until Bellamy gives them a plan to fulfill their cause. Unfortunately for him, it means teaming up with O to find the powerful red sun toxin. For once the cultists weren’t useless!

Poor Gabriel, all he wants is peace. I thought Jordan would be a Monty reincarnator but apparently, that’s Gabriel. Or he’s more of Lincoln II? Either way, I hope he doesn’t die. Speaking of Jordan, I miss him in his recovery bed.

Anyway, “what do you say when sorry isn’t good enough?” Despite Bellamy’s countless efforts to keep O occupied, she won’t stop breaking down the walls around his heart. Those mushrooms were strong, Bell, we saw it. Octavia’s speech was so deep, honest and touching that Bellamy’s stray tears hardly seem enough.

The way it was resolved though, is more than satisfactory. After everything that’s happened, it wouldn’t be enough development for him to simply accept what she’s done and move on. But, he’s willing to give her a chance to prove herself while no longer being the core of his world. “You’re my sister, but you’re not my responsibility, not anymore” is probably the best metamorphosis I’ve witnessed on this show. It clips the umbilical cord for both of them to emerge as individuals.

Echoes of a cold-hearted spy

So, I assume Echo protected Ryker thinking she could bank on his morality to spare her. And of course, she keeps scraping at the flesh wound. But Ryker believes saving his family keeps the peace, killing Echo saves everyone else. One life instead of thousands - it’s for the greater good, right? Wrong. The acting here was great, I was totally convinced of Ryker’s bouncing morals.

Off-topic, I completely forgot Miller used to be a thief and I’m glad we got to see his pick-pocketing skills in action. He deserves some credit and screentime, since being a part of this show for six seasons. Oh, and the transcending moment between him and Gaia was super sweet.

For a second I thought Echo would become Simone and then I remembered that she also took ALIE’s chip and they wouldn’t rehash the neural mesh storyline. Meaning my fears were quickly soothed.

Onto the important part, what was that back story supposed to mean? All I got out of it, is that Echo’s cycle isn’t broken. That leopard hasn’t changed its spots. Don’t get me wrong, it broke my heart that she had to kill her friend and resume her identity in order to survive. But, it felt like a turning point in Echo’s character that plunged her into heartlessness. Will she become that person again?

I know Echo might not be a fan favourite, but she’s really grown on me this season. She’s smart, loyal and fierce, I like her. Not Bellamy and Echo together though, I can’t see a semblance of a connection between them. And their relationship is only hurting their characters.

Why would they build her up as a great character just to show that she cares about no-one, not even her friends? I mean I get why she killed Ryker, leaving him alive was too much of a risk - he would tell Russel about her, Miller and Gaia being at large. Though that murderous glint in her eyes tells me that was purely for revenge and completely against their newfound lifestyle. Maybe I’m wrong.

I’m curious to know what being a nightblood will mean for her now and how her character might change after being held at gunpoint.

Meanwhile, Monty’s mantra rings through Clarke

Oy, Bellamy risked everything and everyone to save Clarke and if she can’t play the part of Josephine convincingly, that was all for nothing. And our boy’s not happy about it - at all. Only, Clarke refuses a Mount Weather do-over.

I just need to mention Bellamy’s face when Murphy come’s through the tent - priceless. Then Jade finally gets a chance to knock someone out too. Yay for her!

The moment Clarke’s safe, she goes straight to Bellamy for reassurance and goodbye. Backtracking to the start of the episode, the way he flung to her side when she woke, touched and comforted her was toothachingly soft and way too intimate to be non-romantic.

Bellamy gets this shy, ‘aw it’s nothing’ expression when Clarke thanks him for saving her life. Because to him, it really is nothing, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for her. And while he’s making heart-eyes at his friend, his girlfriend is being prepped for a blood transplant and murder. I cannot see how there won’t be any followthrough on this.

If there’s not, it’s altogether bad writing, showcasing and wasted potential. Right now, there’s too much going on for a decent conversation that’s years overdue and I’m hopeful they’ll get it. In the synopsis of the finale, there’s a hint at romance and I truly believe it’s theirs.

Well done Eliza! For playing Clarke and Josephine, Clarke as Josephine and vice versa. She’s an amazing actress and has come a long way from, “Stop, the air could be toxic!.”

The woman must have been devastated when she walked in on Madi strapped to a chair, being drained for her blood. Yet, in the scheme of greater good, she acts oblivious. She plays the part of a nonchalant sociopath so well, while sparing Madi via a sedative and shifting the focus to her mind drive.

Those newlyweds sure know how to act and direct!! Like always, I’d love to hear your thoughts, did I read the Echo backstory correctly? Till next week, bye!

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searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago

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Until the Day Breaks and the Shadows Flee: 8/8

A huge thank you to everyone who has gone along with me on this crazy mythological au! I have enjoyed every kudo, comment, and reblog more than I can say, and it kept me going when the muse was as fickle as Venus! Speaking of which, since Cupid and Psyche is a Roman myth, I have been using the Roman names for the gods and goddesses. However, when it was time to head to the Underworld, I just like the Greek names (Hades and Persephone) so much better than the Roman ones (Pluto and Porserpine). Since this is an AU and it’s mine, I just went with the Greek names for those two. Sorry if that bugs anyone!

I also am so grateful to everyone in the @cssns - all the writers and artists for their support and encouragement, and @kmomof4 for heading it all up. I can’t thank my beta @snowbellewells enough, especially tonight when I was finishing this up in the eleventh hour! Also huge thanks to @hollyethecurious for making the banner above which just perfectly captures the mood and setting.

Summary: Every night she traces the contours of his body as Killian whispers words of love against her skin. But can Princess Emma ever be fully happy with a husband who only comes to her in utter darkness? A Captain Swan AU of the myth of Cupid and Psyche.

Rating: M for sexual situations

Words: ~5,000 in this chapter

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines@kday426 @nadine200179 @teamhook @bethacaciakay@profdanglaisstuff @distant-rose @shireness-says@mythologicalmango @wellhellotragic @branlovestowrite@xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl @winterbaby89@ultraluckycatnd @vvbooklady1256 @resident-of-storybrooke@spartanguard @thislassishooked @whimsicallyenchantedrose@tiganasummertree @snidgetsafan @ohmakemeahercules@delirious-latenight-laughs @nikkiemms @gingerchangeling@revanmeetra87 @cocohook38 @effulgentcolors

Chapter Eight: A Seal Upon My Heart

If Emma had to pick just one word to describe the Underworld it would be colorless. The only hues that clung to the scant vegetation were in shades of grey. The very air itself hung thick with a smoky miasma, and it tinged the realm of the dead like a painting coated in eons of dust.

The castle of Hades and Persephone rose before Emma. Cerberus lay at her feet, each of his three jowls distracted by the thick biscuits Emma had given him. Her heart beat wildly as she hurried down the rocky path towards the castle which resembled a tower of jagged, broken glass in varying shades of black. She clutched the strap of her satchel, her feet hurrying lest Cerberus make quick work of the dog treats and come begging for more.

The closer she got, she more she worried. How did one go about making a request like this of a goddess? If Persephone had long held the flower of beauty close, why in the world would she give it to a mere mortal? And even before her request could be made, how did she begin to seek an audience with the Queen of the Underworld? She couldn’t just knock on the front door. Could she?

The decision was taken from Emma’s hands, however, the minute her foot touched the castle’s bottom step. Guards dressed completely in black, nothing but a cold void behind the visors of their helmets, seized her before she even had a chance to cry out. Their hands were so cold, they burned as she was forced up the steps and into the castle.

She was hauled down the black marble corridors. Emma kicked and struggled, but her efforts were futile. Please, she begged to whatever deity would still listen to her, don’t let them throw me in the dungeon!

The guards kicked open a heavy door of steel and dragged Emma into a cavernous room with a domed roof. At the end of it, two beings sat side by side on matching thrones. Relief flooded Emma, and she inwardly whispered a prayer of thanks. It wasn’t the entrance she had hoped for, but all that really mattered was that she had an audience with the king and queen. The guards thrust her roughly forward, and Emma fell to her knees on the hard, cold floor.

“How did you manage to get past Cerberus, mortal?” Hades asked.

Emma trembled as she lifted her gaze to the larger of the two thrones, but not because Hades was speaking in a thunderous voice. On the contrary, he sounded calculating and slightly . . . bored? His crisp suit, closely shorn hair, and neatly trimmed, pitch black goatee reminded Emma of that shady ambassador from the Southern Isles. Slimy her mother had called him. Of course, it woud be suicide to call the god of the Underworld that. Emma swallowed nervously.

“I . . . gave him a treat?” Emma winced when it came out like a question. Her plan had been to exude confidence, not grovel.

To her surprise, Hades threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Did you hear that, darling? Gave him a treat!”

He wiped at tears of laughter as his wife cast a smile in his direction. “Yes, dear. No mortal has cooked up a batch of those since . . . Ulysses?”

“No. no,” Hades corrected, waving a hand in the air, “I thought it was a female then, too. Medea? No . . . she was a witch, though. I think.”

As Hades debated over who last charmed his pooch, Emma took the opportunity to look more closely at Persephone. For someone who lived half the year in the Underworld, her complexion was almost radiant. Her hair was a deep brown, with streaks of auburn, and her eyes were bright amber. She gazed with humor and ease at her husband, her hand idly rubbing his forearm. Together, each detail made hope surge through Emma’s veins. She took a deep breath, then spoke as reverentially as she could while still infusing her voice with confidence.

“I was given the biscuits as a gift from the fairies to aid me in a very important quest.”

“A quest?” Hades asked, a sudden edge to his voice.

“Now, dear,” his wife admonished softly, “none of that.”

“Always with the quests! Do these mortals think I have nothing better to do down here?” he turned to Emma in exasperation. “Do you know what I go through? Do you?”

Emma didn’t know how to respond, so she simply shook her head.

“Processing each soul as it enters, weighing them on the scales. Coming up with fitting penance when necessary. Then processing those who move on to paradise. There’s far more to running this operation than anyone knows. And if that weren’t enough, mortals on quests, seeking guidance from the dead, or begging to let the dead free -”

“I’m not here for anyone who’s dead,” Emma bravely interrupted.

Hades blinked in surprise. “You’re not?”

Emma shook her head. “I’m trying to . . . free someone from Venus, but she’ll only let him go if I can get the flower of eternal beauty.”

“That shallow, insignificant excuse for a goddess,” Persephone snapped, her earlier peaceful facade falling away to reveal a truly powerful deity. “She’s been trying to get that flower from me for eons. Well, I’m sorry you’ve gone to all this trouble, but the answer is no.”

“Please!” Emma exclaimed, feeling no shame in groveling now. “I beg of you. I know it’s

a lot to ask, but -”

“You know nothing, mortal! Venus will waste the juice of that flower on herself though she

has absolutely no need of it. Simply so no one else will ever get their hands on it.”

“Maybe she wishes to have it so she can help those who lift up prayers to her.” Even as the words left Emma’s lips, she knew how ridiculous the suggestion was. She expected Persephone to laugh condescendingly. Venus certainly would have. Instead, the goddess scrutinized her until she was tempted to squirm.

“You’ve met Venus,” she finally said, “and I have a feeling you know full well how ridiculous you sound right now.”

Emma deflated, sinking into a heap upon the floor, her knees aching from kneeling on the cold marble. She lifted her gaze to Persephone. There was only one other option, and that was to be fully vulnerable with the goddess. If she turned out to be callous and cold, she and Killian were both doomed. She prayed that Persephone would prove compassionate instead.

“Once again, I beseech you, goddess of spring, Queen of the Underworld. I don’t ask this for myself. It is for the man I love, my husband. Venus has him under a sleeping curse.”

Hades tsked and shook his head. “She’s taken yet another lover? This is why I prefer these austere halls to Mt. Olympus. So much drama, I tell you.”

Persephone grinned at her husband and lifted his hand to her lips. Emma felt hope surge in her heart.

“He isn’t her lover,” Emma explained, “and he isn’t even mortal. Killian is my husband - Cupid, I mean. The son of Venus.”

“Killian!” Persephone exclaimed with a gasp. “That precious boy loved the springtime, you know. It’s why so many lovers choose that time of year for their wedding vows.” The goddess shook her head. “I say Venus may be the goddess of beauty, but not of love, not truly. No, it his her son who fights for love and heeds the prayers of the star-crossed.”

“Now, my love, I know you have a soft spot for the lad, but this is Venus we’re talking about.” Hades frowned in concern. “Your feud with her goes back eons.”

Emma rose to her feet, her hands clasped at her breast, hardly daring to believe that the goddess would be willing to help her. “I love him so much, but Venus is determined to keep him under an enchanted slumber until I’ve taken my last breath.”

“Unless you retrieve my flower?” Persephone asked.

Emma nodded. “Yet every moment I delay, Killian is one step closer to forgetting me.”

Persephone scowled and rose quickly from her throne, she motioned for Emma to follow her as she swept down the small steps of the dais. She went through an archway to the right of the thrones, and Emma hurried after her.

“Venus is so fickle,” Persephone muttered as she hurried along, “and her memory is laughably short. Yet that may be to your advantage.”

She smiled conspiratorially back at Emma before pushing open a heavy oak door at the corridor’s end. Beyond the doors was the first bit of color Emma had seen since entering the Underworld. It wasn’t much of a garden - only two things grew in the mostly stone courtyard - yet in the vast sea of black and grey, it was a veritable oasis. At the east end of the courtyard, a large tree grew, heavy with pomegranates. Yet it was the pathway to the west which Persephone hurried down.

“Venus has forgotten that I took care of her boy as much as I could, during the spring and summer months, of course. Juno was his other main babysitter, which explains his soft heart for women trapped in arranged or loveless marriages.”

Emma thought of the story Killian had told her of his first love, Milah, and she realized that it was Juno who had sent him to assist her. Ahead of her, Persephone came to a stop in front of a large rose bush. Only these roses sparkled with golden radiance, and even Emma could sense the magic radiating from them. Her mouth dropped open as she looked at the goddess of spring.

“I thought there was only one flower.”

Persephone’s lips widened into a smile. “Oh no, there have always been many on this rose bush, which I have tended with great care for many centuries. I couldn’t let Venus know that, however.”

Emma shook her head in wonder. “Then why not share?”

Persephone’s amber eyes narrowed, and Emma could practically feel the ground at her feet crackle with angry energy. “With that selfish goddess? She would do nothing but wreck havoc with these flowers, causing all sorts of mischief. Remember that golden apple “to the fairest”? Remember that impotent, silly Paris? Venus got us plunged right into the Trojan War. Can you imagine what she would do with a whole bush of flowers that can give eternal beauty?”

The blood drained from Emma’s face at Persephone’s impassioned speech, and her heart sank. “But Killian . . . “ her voice drifted off, for what argument did she have for a goddess?

“Although,” Persephone pondered, tapping her finger upon her lips, “Venus isn’t the smartest goddess. You could take her a flower, and let her believe it’s the only one.”

“Oh,” Emma exclaimed, “I’ll do anything you ask, if you’ll only help me!”

Persephone’s gaze turned serious, “Be careful what deities you make such promises too, my dear.”

Emma swallowed nervously, but then Persephone smiled softly once more.

“All I ask, however, is that you answer a question. Answer correctly, and I’ll give you the flower.”

Emma blinked, her hands grasping nervously at the satin of her nightgown. “I’m . . . I mean, I’ve never thought of myself as . . . . “ she sighed. “What if I get it wrong?”

Persephone reached for Emma’s hand and squeezed it. “I don’t think you will. The question is this: Why did I plant this rose bush here, in the Underworld? Why did I not plant it in the world of the living?”

Emma’s first thought was that she planted it here to protect it. After all, Killian had tried to flee here with Emma so they would be hidden from his mother’s eyes. But then she gazed upon the golden flowers, mesmerized by their incandescence. The longer she looked upon them, the more a feeling of peace washed over her. Their beauty wasn’t just striking; it was soothing. Suddenly, the answer struck her with startling clarity. She turned to Persephone with a small smile upon her face.

“You planted these flowers here for your husband. To comfort him, to remind him of you, in the long months you are forced to part.”

Persephone gave Emma a tiny nod of her head, a flash of pride in her eyes. “I had a feeling you would guess correctly.” With that, she snipped one of the flowers from the bright green plant, then surprised Emma when she picked a second one. The goddess placed both in a large leather pouch. “To keep them from being crushed,” she explained.

“But Venus thinks there’s only one flower.”

“The second is for you. I have a feeling you’ll need it. Keep it close until absolutely necessary.”

Emma bit nervously at her bottom lip as she accepted the pouch. She placed it carefully into her satchel, then regarded Persephone thoughtfully.

“How will I know when -”

“When it’s absolutely necessary?”

Emma simply nodded.

“You’ll just know.”

***********************************************************

Travel via deity was getting old. At least this time, when Perephone teleported her to the home of Venus, Emma actually landed on her feet. She was still dizzy with a pounding headache, but at least she wasn’t slamming into the ground or completely unconscious. Persephone evidently had a gentler touch.

This time, however, Emma wasn’t in Venus’s private chamber, but in a courtyard with abundant greenery and a fountain surrounded by a glittering pool. Though soothing, gentle splash of the water couldn’t mask the shouting coming from a nearby open doorway. Emma recognized one voice as Venus; the other was male. Emma tiptoed closer to the angry sounds.

“You’re willing to let our son sleep for possibly another eighty years just because of some mortal girl?”

“Eighty years might as well be a week when you’re immortal, and since when did you care about Killian anyway?”

Emma was close enough now to peer around the edge of the doorway. Killian had been moved from the dais to the round, luxurious bed that Emma had awoken in the last time she was here. Venus stood on the other side of the room, arguing with a broad, muscular man dressed like a gladiator in leather armor with a red cape flowing over his back. A feathered helmet and broadsword lay at his feet. Emma assumed this was Mars, Killian’s father, and she could certainly see the resemblance in the god’s thick dark hair and startling blue eyes. He had a full, curling beard, and his jaw was tight as he glared at Venus.

“I’ve cared about him far more than you have!” he thundered. “Otherwise he wouldn’t be in an enchanted sleep right now, would he?”

“No harm will come to him,” Venus shot back, “he’s surrounded by a protection spell.”

Mars arched a brow as thick and dark as his son’s, “Or is it to keep the mortal girl from awakening him?”

As intimidating as the god of war seemed, Emma figured this was just as good a time as any to make her presence known. At least one of the deities in the room was on her side. She took a deep breath to gather her courage, then rapped her knuckles on the door frame. Venus and Mars both spun towards the sound, and Emma stood as confidently as she could manage just beyond the threshold. When neither of them spoke, she broke the silence.

“I have completed my quest, and I have brought you what you seek.”

Venus’s eyes widened with delight while Mars rolled his towards the ceiling. Emma glanced nervously at her husband, who slept peacefully through it all. She stepped fully into the room while reaching into her satchel. Just as Persephone had advised, she removed only one flower, and handed it carefully to Venus. The golden rose still glowed and sparkled with ethereal beauty. The goddess took it reverently in her cupped hands, gasping in awe.

“Long have I desired this,” she whispered.

“As if you don’t have beauty enough of your own,” grumbled Mars.

“Keep your opinions to yourself,” Venus snapped at her former lover.

“I brought you what you requested,” Emma reminded her gently, “and I believe completing a quest to the Underworld is sufficient proof of my love for Killian. You must awaken him!”

“I must do nothing!” Venus snapped. “I am a goddess!”

Before Emma could even think of a reply to her callous declaration, Venus had crushed the beautiful flower between her palms. Emma gasped in shock as the broken petals grew dull against the porcelain skin of the goddess of beauty. Only the flower’s inner nectar still glowed in Venus’s palm. The goddess brought her cupped hands to her lips and sipped up the sparkling juice with relish. She then took a deep breath, an almost manic smile filling her face as she tipped her gaze to the ceiling. The veins in her neck glowed, then the shimmering golden hue filled her cheeks and blazed from her eyes. Her hair for a moment seemed to alight like the rays of the sun. Then Venus gave one more shuddering breath, and her countenance returned to normal. She couldn’t have possibly gotten any more beautiful than she already was, and now that the flower’s magic had faded, Emma saw no difference in the goddess before her.

Persephone had been right.

“Please, Venus,” Emma tried again with feigned humility, “free my husband from his slumber.”

“You keep calling him your husband,” Venus snapped, “but you are nothing more than a mortal. You can’t understand the ever-changing needs and desires of a god. We take lovers, not spouses.”

Emma was thankful for what she had seen between Hades and Persephone, for it guarded her against the lies of Venus.

“That may be true for you, but it’s not true of all the gods and goddesses. Killian has chosen me, and I choose him.”

“She brought you the damn flower,” Mars snapped, “wake the boy up.”

“Boy,” Venus sighed, “you never can see him as a man, can you?”

“And you can? All you ever do is treat him as your errand boy, never willing to cut those apron strings.”

“At least I’m involved in his life, which is more than I can say for you!”

Emma inched closer to the bed where Killian lay, frustrated at the time that was being wasted while the two divine beings fought. Had she slipped from Killian’s memory already? She knelt by the bed, reaching forward, but it was no use. Venus’s protection spell was still intact.

“Involved?” Mars was still arguing with Venus. “I can list half a dozen goddesses, fairies, and mermaids who were more of a mother to him than you. Maybe I’ll just wake him myself!”

“You can’t, the spell doesn’t work that way.”

“But I can do this,” Mars spat, lifting an arm and snapping his fingers.

The sound of it was loud, reverberating through the room, and the magical shield surrounding Killian and the bed upon which he lay, shivered and then dissolved. Emma surged forward with a cry, flinging her entire body across Killian’s chest and peppering his jaw with kisses.

She pressed a kiss to his still lips, murmuring against them, “I love you, come back to me, Killian.”

When she pulled back, he was just as deeply asleep as before. Behind her, Venus giggled with deceptive sweetness.

“It isn’t the kind of sleeping curse that your mother was under. That was cast by a mere mortal witch. Your kisses will do nothing to wake him, you foolish girl.”

“Then wake him!” Emma screamed. “You promised!”

Venus shrugged in an almost bored way. “I’m known for my fickleness, and, well . . . I just don’t feel like waking him up.”

Rage surged through Emma’s veins, and she clenched both fists as she stared at Venus. Her knuckles brushed against the satchel she had forgotten that still hung from her shoulder and across her chest. Suddenly, she remembered the second flower and Persephone’s words: Keep it close until absolutely necessary.

Gently, she reached into the satchel and pulled out the second flower. Venus gasped, her eyes widening.

“Where did you get that?”

Emma ignored her and turned to Killian. She cradled his head in her lap. She crushed Persephone’s flower and squeezed the juice between her fingers and past his slightly parted lips. His eyes blinked, then opened. Yet, as they gazed upon her, they looked confused.

“Where am I? Who are you?”

“You don’t know me?” She choked out a sob, clutching desperately at the front of his shirt. “Look at me, Killian! It’s me, Emma, your wife!”

His eyes widened. “I don’t have a wife, and I allow few to call me Killian.”

Behind her, Venus spoke with cold malice. “You’re too late, little mortal girl.”

Emma ignored the goddess as tears slipped down her cheek. “But you do have a wife, and I call you Killian because you asked me to. I love you, and you love me.”

“It’s true, son,” Mars said gently, stepping around Venus and coming closer to the bed.

Killian looked with shocked confusion at his father, and Emma wondered how rarely he saw Mars. Then his bewildered gaze fell back on her.

“Then why do I not remember you?”

“It was your mother.” Emma trembled, terrified that she was too late. Then a spark of hope lit within her. Her parents! Maybe her kiss couldn’t waken him, but that didn’t mean it was powerless. “I - I can make you remember me.”

She pressed her lips against his, and felt his shocked surprise in the rigidness of his mouth. Yet as her tongue brushed gently against the seam of his lips, he responded, opening for her and angling his head to deepen the kiss. She cupped his face, and he grasped the back of her head. Her lips curled into a smile as she broke the kiss, pressing her forehead to his. His eyes were closed, his breath ragged.

“Remember now?”

“Your kisses are intoxicating,” he rasped, but when he opened his eyes, there was still no recognition there. “I wish I could claim a woman as beautiful and passionate as you as my wife, but how can I when I still don’t know you?”

Emma sobbed, dropping her head to his chest and wrapping her arms tightly around him. The rigidness of his shoulders and the awkwardness as he patted her back only made her heart break more. She was too late.

Suddenly, the floor felt as if it were shifting, and Killian grasped her more tightly as they seemed to hurtle through the air. Head spinning, Emma pulled back from her husband to look around, completely disoriented. She blinked to clear her vision and was shocked at what she saw.

They were in another marbled room with tall Grecian columns, yet this one was ten times larger than the private chambers of Venus. Towering over their heads was not a domed roof, but billowing clouds. Surrounding them in this great hall were twelve giant, elaborate thrones. Sitting on each was a beautiful, regal figure. Emma scanned them in awe, startling when she saw Venus sitting on one to her left. She inched closer to Killian, and though he did not know her, he pulled her close to his side. They were in the throne room of the twelve Olympians.

“Princess Emma,” thundered a voice in the center of the room, “come near.”

On trembling legs, Emma obeyed. She assumed this was Jupiter, king of the Olympians, and she lowered herself to one knee. He didn’t look like she had imagined: glowing, with a long beard and a thunderbolt in his hand. Instead, he was clean shaven, muscular, with a smooth, young face, yet his expression was stern and she felt herself tremble.

“Emma, you have apparently angered Venus a great deal.”

“I did not mean to, your . . . majesty?”

Jupiter surprised her by chuckling. “Many beautiful maidens have aroused her jealousy, my dear. Yet none have managed to steal the heart of her son.”

“And steal it she has,” Mars spoke up, and Emma turned her head to see him seated on a throne to her left. “I saw the lengths my son went to in order to save her, and I have likewise seen what Emma has been willing to do to save Killian.”

“I never saw you as a romantic,” Venus snapped from her throne across the room.

“Maybe not,” Mars shot back, “but I do admire those willing to fight for what they want.”

Jupiter lifted a hand to stop the lovers’ spat, and turned his gaze back to Emma. “I understand you completed a quest to the Underworld to prove your love.”

“Yes,” Emma said, her emotional control slipping as a tear tracked down her cheek, “but I was too late. Killian no longer remembers me.”

“If I may, my lord,” Killian’s voice was suddenly there at her side, and she was surprised when he took her hand gently in his. “If this lass truly is my bride, then there’s nothing I could wish for more than to remember her.”

Emma blinked at him in surprise, and he in turn gave her a shy smile before scratching behind his ear. She had never seen him so unsure and confused. Or, more accurately, she had never heard him seem out of his element before. He certainly was now, and her heart grew with love even more.

Jupiter rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. “What say you, Juno?”

“No one is more loyal than our Cupid - Killian,” she said, looking at the young god fondly, “and he deserves happiness after so much loss and turmoil.”

“And what of this Princess, Minerva?” Jupiter asked, turning to the goddess on his other side. “What does your wisdom discern about her character?”

“Tenacious,” Minerva answered, “strong, smart, and willing to die for those she loves. If I’m not mistaken, she’s also a product of true love.”

Vesta spoke up from her place at the brazier that burned in the center of the room. “Oh yes, she is the daughter of the legendary Snow White and her prince.”

“I have a proposition,” Jupiter announced in a booming voice. “Never have I seen a mortal worthy of being wed to a god until now. These two should be wed in the truest sense.”

Venus surged forward on her throne, “But in order to do that, she would have to be -”

“A goddess?” Jupiter chuckled. “Yes, I am aware. I propose making Princess Emma a goddess, returning Killian’s memories, and allowing these two to live out their happy ending without interference. After all,” he turned a humorous gaze upon Venus, “that way she would cause you no more trouble with her beauty.”

Venus pouted and practically slouched on her throne, but she made no reply.

“All in favor?” Jupiter asked.

There was a chorus of “ayes” from every god and goddess, save for Venus. Jupiter clapped his hands, and a thundering wave of magic pulsed outward, washing over Emma and Killian. They both stumbled, their hands pulled from one another’s grasp. Emma shook her head, and turned towards her husband. A slow smile filled his face, and a sparkle lit his brilliant blue eyes.

“Emma!”

“You remember me?” she gasped, tears spilling from her eyes.

“Yes,” he laughed, “but love, look at you!”

Emma looked down to find herself clothed in a figure-hugging gown of purest white, embroidered with silver and gold thread. Gold bangles hung from both wrists, and her hair was piled upon her head in a riot of ringlets threaded through with baby’s breath and tiny pink rosebuds.

Yet it wasn’t her appearance she cared about as she crossed the room in two strides and flung herself into her husband’s arms. He caught her in a firm embrace, pressing her flush against him. Their lips met hungrily, and Emma poured into the kiss every desire she had felt while missing him. Killian couldn’t stop touching her, running one hand up her back and down her arms, his other making a mess of her perfectly styled goddess hair.

Their kiss was interrupted by the clapping and cheers of the twelve Olympians. They parted, a blush upon Emma’s cheeks, and turned to face Jupiter. Killian kept her tucked against his side, his arm holding her close.

“Killian, you are Cupid, the god of love, and here is your bride: Psyche, the goddess of the soul. For it is these two entwined - the heart and the soul - that creates the strongest magic of all: true love.”

***************************************************************

Years Later . . .

Emma and Killian sat in the garden of their estate on top of the misty hill, watching as their two children ran amidst the flowers that the fairies tended. The god of Belief and the goddess of Hope.

Often, Emma and Killian were called away on adventures. Some as simple as answering the desperate prayers of lovers, others as dangerous as battling the gods of Discord, Hate, and Apathy. One day, when they were old enough, their children would join them.

Yet their favorite days were these, with the warm sun beating down, happy and content. Their love now bathed in light; a light that had pushed away every shadow.

#cs ff #cssns #cssns 2019 #captain swan supernatural summer #enchanted forest au #myth #slow burn #cupid and psyche au

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jeannereames · 5 years ago

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Happy Birthday to the real Amyntor: Ed Reames

9/11 is a day of mourning in the US. But for me, 9/11 means my father’s birthday. And with Dancing with the Lion: Rise coming out next month--which is dedicated to my father’s memory--I decided I’d post here the tribute to my father that I wrote shortly after his death in February of 2017. My father (and mother) provided the model for Amyntor in the novel. So if you’d like to meet the “real” Amyntor, here he is.

Calvin Edward Reames, c. 1944

As some of you are already aware, my father’s health—physical and mental—has been failing, especially since autumn. In late January, he caught pneumonia and was admitted to the hospital. He never regained conscious awareness and was placed on palliative care. At 3:15pm, Eastern time, February 10, 2017, he died, almost exactly 92 years and 5 months since he entered this world.

Social media has become the communication currency of our time, and supposedly nothing on the Internet ever really disappears. Ergo I want to tell you about my father so HE won’t disappear. This is my own reflection. No one’s life can be understood by any single individual in it. We’re too multifaceted. The father I knew wasn't even the father my brother knew, as we were born almost 18 years apart--he at the beginning of the Baby Boom and me at the tail end. Yet my father raised a writer for a daughter, so I feel the need to eulogize him as I knew him. Others will have other stories, more or less flattering.

Born on the now-infamous date of 9/11, 1924, in Gorham, Jackson County, (Southern) Illinois, he survived the Tri-State Tornado at only 6 months of age. With him in her arms, his mother ran for the railroad tracks and got on the opposite side from the mile-wide monster bearing down on them, then laid her own body over his; the tornado leapt the tracks and spared them. Perhaps that was an omen for a charmed life. On the face of if, his life might not seem particularly charmed, but he survived the Depression, a world war, and mostly made good on the American Dream. He even lived long enough to see his Cubbies win the World Series.

Iva Mae Gregersen Reames & Daddy, 1925

The eldest of 13 children, he grew up in a family who were poor even by Depression-era standards. It made him generous, occasionally foolishly so. Yet if he decided someone was “his” (family or friend), he saw it as his obligation to help. That conviction stemmed less from abstract ethics than from an innate kindness arising out of his recall of what it meant to be in need. Sometimes people say, “Well, I managed …” and expect others to suffer as they had. Daddy could do that, too, but mostly he didn't. If he could prevent someone from suffering, that made him happy. He just wanted a “Thank you.” When he was in the war, he sent virtually his whole paycheque home to his mother each month to help care for his younger brothers and sisters. He kept $5. Yes, $5 went much further then, but as an unmarried corporal in the US army, he made about $65 dollars monthly in 1944. So he kept 1/13th of his income and gave away the rest.

US Army Corporal, 126th AAA Battalion, 1943

That, perhaps better than anything, exemplifies his fundamental nature. It’s in our actions and choices that, I believe, we reveal our true selves.

He liked to laugh, and kid, but never cruelly. For some families, a disparaging jest is meant as back-handed affection, but that wasn’t heard in the house in which I grew up. When I was younger, I was frequently teased because I walked right into comments with potential double meanings. Perhaps one of the values of getting old(er) is that I’ve aged out of being an easy target. Yet I never learned to hear what others said as an opportunity for ribbing because my parents didn’t find that sort of thing funny. My father's sense of humor was devoid of sarcasm, as he thought it mean-spirited. Some of that owed to his own mother, who—to hear him talk about her—should have been beatified immediately upon her death. But I also believe it owed to having lived through real struggle himself.

To his mind, the world is mean enough. He saw no need to make it meaner via our interactions with people about whom we should care. It's partly for that reason, and a basic aversion to drama, that he was a much-desired member of the pastor-parish relations committee at our church in Lakeland, Florida. His presence tended to tamp down exaggerated crises and occasional bouts of flailing (which is actually a bit funny, given his own tendency to worry).

My father had a will of iron, and a quiet ambition easily overlooked. For instance, when he decided to stop smoking, back before I was born, he’d just received a new carton of cigarettes for Christmas. He threw them in the trash and quit cold turkey because he’d decided he was done. He took up a pipe later (I think largely for image), but decided he didn’t want to do that, either, and just put down the pipe one day. That was it.

"The Lineman," Normal Rockwell

When Daddy decided to do something, he did it. “Failure is not an option”: Apollo 13’s motto. Well, the men (and women) who got Apollo 13 home are my father’s generation. When he returned from the war, he was one of millions looking for a job. He tried on several, but finally decided to work for the telephone company because communications seemed like the future. Before the war, he’d wanted to be a pharmacist, yet circumstance had curtailed the college degree required. So he began showing up regularly in the hiring offices of General Telephone Electric (GTE), asking for work. He made himself annoying. But squeaky wheel gets the grease, and finally they sent him north as a telephone lineman … in January … during a blizzard. He was a relatively little guy (wiry, but short), and they doubted he’d last 2 days. They figured it was a good way to get rid of his terrier persistence.

Daddy on right, GTE employee award

He persisted for 40+ years, and retired as a (self-taught) senior engineer in the mid-1980s. Never tell a Reames, "You can’t do that."

The guys who’d worked under him at the end liked him so much, they kept coming to visit him for years after. He had that effect on people, whether at work, at church, or as a ham radio operator ("This is K9RWP calling..."). They sensed he truly cared about them, and responded in kind. He wasn’t a boisterous or especially outgoing person, but he was still an extrovert. He’d strike up conversations with random strangers in lines at store check-outs.

Especially if there was a baby involved.

Daddy & his great-granddaughter, Leila

See, Daddy loved babies. And babies loved Daddy. Maybe as a result of being the eldest of 13, but he could burp them, change a diaper pronto, or make them laugh. He so enjoyed watching little kids, especially as he aged; he’d break into a grin just to see them playing at a distance. He was never among the “Children should be seen and not heard” crowd. To his mind, children should be talked to and played with. They would inherit the earth. When my son was born just a few months after my mother's death, Daddy said, “He’s my little replacement.” At the time, I worried his words were fatalistic. But he went on to survive my mother by almost 20 years, and now, I see his words as an expression of continuity. We are our ancestors.

Daddy, Grandson Ian & Licorice as a kitten

So my son, Ian, is his replacement, in the larger sense. When we look forward, we also look back to where we came from. I tried to insure that Ian got to know his Grandpa, who was there just days after he came home from the hospital after birth, and was there when he graduated from high school, even paid his first bill for books at college. Because that’s who Daddy was. If he didn’t get to attend college himself, he made sure both his kids did, and his grandkids. For him, that was an achievement.

As I said…the success of others, especially friends and family, seemed to Daddy the same as his own.

Yet his generosity and empathy extended beyond just people. Daddy was a cat magnet. We used to joke that if he sat down and there was a cat within 50 feet, pretty soon, that cat would be on his lap. He liked dogs, to be sure, but dogs (and horses) were my mother’s favorites. Daddy liked cats, and they liked him. Dogs are forgiving. They’ll stay with even an abusive owner; but cats leave. They don’t put up with crap. Daddy? Even semi-feral cats trusted him.

Daddy, me, Ian, and a completely random barn cat who decided to adopt him for the day at my aunt’s farm

So while he was raised in a time when animals were tools and food more than family members, and he certainly went hunting from a young age to help put food on the table, I think he, more than my mother, had a soft spot for animals. I remember in the ‘70s, he decided we were going to raise rabbits for food, and bought a pair of does. Well, it didn’t take long for yours truly to make pets not only of the does, but of the first litter of babies. All of them had to go to homes where they’d be pets, not dinner. And while I’d made the pronouncement, it didn’t take much to convince my father. Shooting a wild squirrel for the stew pot (especially when hungry) was one thing; killing the rabbits one fed regularly and took care of was another. So our venture in home-grown meat failed miserably (to, I’m sure, the rabbits’ collective relief). Yet it wasn’t just due to my agitating. I don’t think Daddy could have killed a one of them, even if I hadn’t protested. They had names, after all.

He wasn’t a saint. None of us are. The cliche applies: we're a mix of vices and virtues, like shadows against the backlight of the sun. Age softened some of his, while exacerbating others due to a failing filter. Among other things he did well, Daddy was a champion worrier. He worried about anything you can imagine (and then some). Perhaps that owed to growing up in such an unstable era as the Depression when it seemed anything could happen, but for instance, he would remind me constantly to hold onto handrails while going up and down stairs. It seems trivial, but he genuinely angsted over me falling at home and hurting myself when nobody might find me for days. So I (mostly) hold onto rails, because I hear his voice in my head, telling me to.

The irony, of course, is that he was in much more danger of falling, yet he didn't tend to worry about himself. Before he moved up to be near my brother, I tried to get him to buy one of those Life Alert systems. I even employed the ultimate weapon: his grandson (Ian), to beg. He refused. He’d be fine, because he’s of that generation when all a man should need was himself, a gun, a good job, and a driver's license. And oh, boy, getting him to relinquish that driver's license as he went increasingly blind from macular degeneration was quite the battle, one my poor brother largely had to face when Daddy moved north to Kentucky in his last years. Daddy never did let go of the worrying, though.

He could be impatient, and critical, too, sometimes overly so. I never wanted to sing in front of him because he, like many of his siblings, had an excellent ear and I was, well, usually a little flat. He could hear it, and would say so. But the one he was most critical of was himself, if he failed to live up to his (very high) standards of what he thought he ought to do. Some of that, I lay at the feet of his own father, at least as my mother told it to me. Yet in contrast, as noted earlier, he delighted in the success of others. As a child and young woman I wanted to succeed not because I feared his critique (except about my singing), but because I basked in his happiness when I did well. He could be downright embarrassing in his bragging. If failure, especially his, was not an option, he didn't feel the need to build himself up by tearing down others. He was happy to share the spotlight, or even to applaud from the sidelines--and mean it. Again, maybe that owed to being one of 13, but I think it went deeper, back to his fundamental worldview: “You and me,” not, “Me or you.” He was quietly ambitious, but not especially competitive. Except at cards. Then all bets were off (sometimes literally).

Daddy with Mama, Christmas, c. 1990

One of his most outstanding virtues was his loyalty. For instance, he fell in love with my mother and stayed married to her for 51 years, then never remarried. While it might have been nice for him to remarry, I don't think it was in him; it would have felt like "replacing" her, and to his mind, she had no replacement.

After her death in 1997, I recall going through old pictures of her with him, one from just after the war, which showed them out with friends. Keep in mind that my mother, from childhood until after the birth of my brother, was…pudgy. While on the shorter side, my father was never heavy in his youth. In fact, he got quite buff during WWII: broad-chested and slim-waisted. But as we looked at that picture of my mother next to her friends, he pointed to her with tears in his eyes, and said, "She was the most beautiful of them all." Yup, the "pudgy" girl.

Idalee Brouillette, c. 1944, the picture my father carried during WWII

But he was right: Mama was a stunner. I know that, now, people say I look a lot like her, and I’m honored it’s so. But I was never as pretty as she was, especially in her youth, and I think my father felt bedazzled that this beautiful, black-haired Brouillette girl decided she was going to marry him, and that was the end of it. Her family was better off financially during the Depression, even with Indian blood; they had a farm with a full section, and a car, and enough money for my grandfather to send my mother and her sisters into town to go to school when he thought the teacher at the school on Buttermilk Hill was unqualified. So I suppose you could say Daddy "married up." But to Mama’s mind, she’d won the deal, getting the determined, smart guy.

See, long before they met in person, Mama had gone with her best friend Annie to Gorham High School for a day, visiting. In math class, the teacher put a problem on the board and asked the class to solve it. Only one student could: my father. He got up and wrote the solution on the blackboard, and Mama was enchanted. She asked Annie, “Who is that guy!?”

Some years later, she married that guy.

March 8th, 1946, wedding picture

In many ways, my parents were quite different people. My mother was progressive in thought beyond her time, naturally empathic and perceptive, a bookworm introvert with a steel spine when she needed it and the amazing ability to keep 5+ people’s business in her head without forgetting anything. Everything I know about organization (and I’m pretty good at it), I learned from my mother. My father was conservative, protective, supportive, more intelligent (in sheer IQ), but less emotionally intelligent (EQ), more driven, but less philosophical. Yet they created a unique alchemy of spirit. They didn’t share common interests—Mama loved reading novels, Daddy never read fiction, Mama loved watching murder mysteries, Daddy preferred ball games or the news. Yet they looked out on the world in the same direction, and that’s what mattered.

Ed Reames in high school

In the end, what can I say but that Daddy was the epitome of the Greatest Generation. And now he’s gone. I won’t say we’ll never see their like again, because nobody knows the future. They weren’t perfect—racism was an institutionalized assumption enshrined in segregation, women barely had the vote, LGBTQ wasn’t even talked about—but we, in our current America, could take a page from those who survived abject poverty and economic collapse without government safety nets, then went on to save the world from fascism. They did it not by grand deeds, but by the simple heroism of young men and a few women storming a beach at Normandy or Iwo Jima, a lot of whom never came home. Daddy used to joke that he chased Hitler all over Europe but never caught him.

Daddy, you did catch him. You were part of the men and women who stopped him.

You are my hero. You are the real Captain America.

I’m privileged and grateful to be your daughter, and I love you, forever.

#My 9/11 #The Greatest Generation #Amyntor #Ed Reames #Dancing with the Lion #DwtL #tribute to my father

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mobius-prime · 5 years ago

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56. Sonic the Hedgehog #38

Previous / Table of Contents / Next

The Rise of Robotropolis… The Fall of Sonic!

Writer: Kent Taylor Pencils: Manny Galan Colors: Barry Grossman

Oh boy, this title promises some drama! Antoine, Tails, and Sonic are out on reconnaissance to check on the state of Robotropolis after the earthquake, and much to Antoine's annoyance, there's a big storm pouring down on them. Sonic is unconcerned with the torrent, but soon, they're attacked unexpectedly by combots, which they'd thought all destroyed back in StH#34. During the battle, lightning strikes!

Oh no! Sonic has X's in his eyes, and we all know that's the universal comic book sign of someone being dead! Tails rushes off to find everyone else, but when they arrive turns out he's fine! He just got knocked out for a second. He rushes off, stumbling a bit and still dizzy from his fall. Luckily Bunnie's there to jog with him and say hi!

So turns out Sonic isn't quite so supersonic anymore. Rotor rambles off a full panel of meaningless technobabble, but essentially, the energy explosion from the bot somehow robbed him of his powers. Nicole suggests that perhaps since one power ring is able to give him a boost normally, multiple might help him regain his speed. Sonic is disappointed but hopeful, refusing to give up the fight even when his greatest weapon has been removed from play. The team begins to return to Knothole only to be ambushed by more combots, which take Sonic's friends prisoner while he's helpless to properly battle them. When Sonic is knocked into a nearby lake, Sally's trainee group unexpectedly comes to his rescue, and lo and behold, while he was underwater he managed to grab a ring that the magical lake was in the process of spitting out!

Hey, nice to see these guys again! I think most people just see them as some forgettable characters from a little-appreciated miniseries, but I'm honestly fond of them. They contact their network of spies (meaning the spies on the inside, like Sleuth Doggy Dawg, not Harvey Who's intelligence agency or the Rebel Underground - yeah, there's a lot of spy groups to keep track of around here) who are able to find them a route through which to sneak into Robotnik's city, and they make their way in only to be confronted by the man himself, because of course they are. No rescue mission can ever be easy, can it?

Anyway, then he - wait wait, hold up for a second. Is Robotnik implying with those quotation marks that Snively somehow tortured the information of Sonic's speed loss out of the Freedom Fighters? To be clear, this line isn't elaborated on at all, and the Freedom Fighters seem physically fine, but what the hell else could that mean? Granted, it's not the first time Robotnik's authorized the use of torture on captives - remember poor Wombat Stu in the Tails miniseries? - but even that was sort of played for laughs, with Stu's tongue sticking out comically and everything. Moreover, is Snively really the torturing type in the first place? As Sonic humorously points out, he's just the lackey, and he's not really shown to have a mean streak to him or anything. It'd be weird for Robotnik to point out Snively having prowess in anything if Robotnik was actually the one directing things, with Snively just following orders. He does treat Snively like dirt, after all.

Eh, I don't know why I'm getting hung up on this detail. Robotnik sets some combots fresh off the assembly line on the team, and during the fight Sonic manages to collect three rings - one from the lake, one from his backpack, and one he threw at another combot in an earlier fight. Together, the combined power of the three rings allows him to regain his speed, and he defeats the rest of the combots with ease and rescues his friends.

The story ends in a weird rush, actually - there's only one page after this, and it basically goes:

Robotnik: "Mwahaha, you win, but I'm blowing this place up. See ya!"

Freedom Fighters: (suddenly standing outside the smoking base) "Wow, we sure did escape that in the nick of time!"

It amusingly feels like they ran out of space or something, like they had this whole escape sequence planned for the ending but then got reminded they only had a set amount of pages to tell the story and were like "Uhh crap better wrap this up fast!" Maybe they were just trying to make room for…

Bedtime Tails!

Writers: Mike Kanterovich and Ken Penders Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Barry Grossman

…this actually pretty hilarious story! Normally the Tails stories are just full of silly kid stuff, but this one got some genuine giggles out of me. Sonic's caught a cold, and to cheer him up, Tails has decided to read him comic books - specifically, the ones he's written! Now, no offense to ten-year-olds, but they're not known for being the best writers. Tails' story essentially involves an alternate universe where he, Sonic, Sally, and Rotor all became irradiated while on an adventure in space, and got vaguely-defined "superpowers" from it. When "Robotnicus" the giant alien human… thing shows up on the planet to eat it ("it" being the entire planet), Sonic opts to give him Twinkies - uh, sorry, Twinkles, guess they didn't get the brand deal for that one like they did the thermos - and it ruins his appetite and gives him an ache in his tum-tum! Seriously, that's the actual dialogue. I was cackling.

Anyway, the story is so boring that it puts Sonic to sleep immediately. The next day, he's feeling better, but Tails isn't - he's caught the cold now. And Sonic knows just how to cheer him up!

Side note, who said Chicken Tenders was inherently bad at art? Just look at that cutie in the bottom left. That is an adorable Sonic.

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 38 #era 2 the freedom fight #writer: kent taylor #writer: mike kanterovich #writer: ken penders #pencils: manny galan #pencils: ken penders #colors: barry grossman

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kaiayame · 6 years ago

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post s8 thoughts

the good, the bad, the mixed.

the good

the marketplace at the garrison in ep 1! i’m a sucker for a marketplace. and allura got to go shopping!!

romelle was back! her hair was cute.

i think the tone of the first episode was actually a really smart one to start the season on. i’m glad they jumped a few months (or was it a year?) since the end of last season.

pidge and allura got some good bonding time in general this season. pidge giving up her game for allura was cute. and then when they were together on that planet where the olkari had lived, that was strong.

pidge being upset about the loss of the olkari, lamenting over “how much more they had to offer us” was solid. i think they spent too much time on it, but the sentiment of mourning all the good that a people could’ve given the universe if they hadn’t been lost was solid.

omg listen. keith and lance. literally sat together. just the two of them. watching a FREAKING sunset. and keith, in my opinion, basically said the nicest things anyone has ever said about lance to his face, and it felt like a confession of feelings from keith’s end tbh. the writers did that. they know that they did that. and it happened. it was real and so, so soft. i had to stand up in front of the tv while i was watching, clutching a pillow and screaming a bit.

i think the amount shiro and coran were utilized throughout the story felt balanced. shiro especially has dominated so much of the story over the seasons, and even tho i love him, it felt nice to kind of have him become somewhat less of a focus.

i think the episode where they got trapped in the ship with the monster was fun! did you see how crazy lance went when keith got stuck in that room with it??

the carnival episode!!! I love a good carnival setting :) i like that they all wanted to get something for allura.

the day 47 episode was also cute, imo. I thought it was clever. I loved kinkade! the overall concept could’ve gone really badly but it felt creative enough to me. I wish it had focused more on just the paladins, but still.

all of the MFE pilots actually didn’t annoy me this season, yay.

veronica and axca had super gay vibes.

keith and axca didn’t happen! *throws confetti*

lance got called a genius by his fellow paladins! and they meant it!

we got to see them all in their under suits and out of their paladin armor!

that short bit where Hunk made the recovered alteans food from their home world? I think that was actually more powerful and potent than the writers even intended. I thought that was really well handled and not heavy handed and had a lot of weight to it.

the bit before the final battle with keith and lance alone at the war room table...................... prime, prime content. THEY HELD. HANDS. there was a CLOSE UP. i’m still living off of it. another “lost my shit” moment. favorite scene of the entire season.

there was some genuinely good moments of humor. keith had some especially funny moments, i laughed out loud a few times, tho i can’t name anything super specific atm.....

it was nice that they tried to really work in the idea that unity is what’s important, and the best unity is built through love, and differences shouldn’t tear us apart and we are always stronger together, etc etc.... i think that was obviously the writers referencing our society’s current climate to some extent, so i appreciated them at least trying to touch on that, however generic and vague it was.

they had some good new outfits this season?? it was nice to see the paladins in so many different clothes. and a lot of the garments were really cute!!

i like how often keith urged them to not give up. I think that’s another strong theme that’s existed throughout the series. it just strikes a personal note with me. i like how far keith has come as a character in general.

pidge’s mom making that flower for allura?? very sweet.

i liked all of lance’s reactions to anyone mentioning someone having an interest in keith, haha. Obviously, i’m projecting, but still.

i think the concept of ALL realities being threatened was actually great, because otherwise idk why they would’ve brought up there being other realities in the first place. the significant level of what was at stake with that being what the paladins were dealing with was a good choice.

keith turning down becoming the new head of the galra. phew, thank you @god.

as always, studio mir is the lord’s animation studio and so much of the visuals were so excellent. can’t wait to see their future projects.

and honestly, it’s been fun. it’s been a fun show. it’s had a ton of problems but i cannot deny that i have seriously enjoyed watching a lot of it as a whole.

i guess technically they did end the show on a gay kiss.

the bad

i’m not even that personally upset but it just goes to show how important an ending is. how a story leaves you makes such a significant impression. it’s probably the most important part of a narrative and OMG THESE WRITERS DO NOT KNOW HOW TO WRAP THINGS UP AT ALL, IT’S SO FUNNYYYYY.

so anyway, yeah........ episode 13.......................... what.

like wtf was ep 13.

what.

what even WAS THAT. PEOPLE got PAID to write THAT.

lance became... altean? can that.... happen? also........... why???

and a farmer?? a simple life?? where did that even come from??? like sure, lance was homesick and missed rain one time. that doesn’t.... it just..... that doesn’t mean he should just be a random farmer?????? whose gf died, i guess??

speaking of that, OMG they fucking KILLED ALLURA. I COULD NOT BELIEVE IT. I CAN’T BELIEVE IT. WHAT A DUMB CHOICE. I’M STILL LAUGHING. I HAD NO EXPECTATION THAT THAT WOULD HAPPEN. WOULD NEVER HAVE EXPECTED THAT. AND YET IT DID. WTF. HOW CAN YOU MAKE SUCH A DUMB WRITING CHOICE. HOW???

and the fact that they didn’t even EXPLAIN why honerva & allura had to do whatever it is they did????? criminal. ridiculous.

and all that aside, allura and coran’s relationship was so important and so special and the fact the she and him didn’t get a goodbye? garbage. unbelievable.

and to add to that, all of her goodbyes were underwhelming. shiro being like “you don’t have to thank me for anything” umm, what. yes she does. you did a lot. wtf, what was with that?

like i love allura, but also, why was the ending SO FOCUSED on just her?? And by that, i mean including the choice to kill her off. VLD has always been about the group. It just was a weird vibe to end on for many, many reasons. The ending should’ve been about her and the rest of them recognizing how they were more than just friends or paladins. They were family... like ALL THE WRITERS HAD TO DO was have them all together at the end?? I’m not even joking. That needed to be the ending, point blank...... AND THEY COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT. WHYYYY

ok moving on but still related, I HATE slideshow endings like that, in pretty much anything that isn’t a documentary or historical drama. I feel like it’s such a cop out. Writers should find confidence and end their story on a specific note. Not a series of slides.

as i was watching ep 13, tbh, the title got me excited. “the end is the beginning” made me feel like they were somehow going to get thrust back in time for a brief second to the moment they all met at the garrison, or met allura and coran, and somehow that was going to get pulled into the finale as a way they could re-establish all the destroyed realities.... so i guess this is my own fault for just hoping for something that wasn’t there, but whatever.

i think lotor and zarkon also got some really undeserved positive recognition. like, they both killed a LOT of people... some things are just too little too late.

lotor coming “back” was also like, half assed. it was weird. it would’ve made more sense for honerva to start jumping through different realities earlier in the season “looking” for a version of her son and husband that she could be with.

too many big robots. like..... so many different kinds of big robots. i couldn’t care less.

as always, a lot of the fight scenes were repetitive as hell. I wish they’d been more creative and written them taking on different approaches rather than just charging at the bad guys.

WHERE IS MY FORMAL WEAR EPISODE

sorry to hate on allurance, but like, neither lance or allura felt like their actual selves whenever they were together or trying to be a couple... it was weird and sad. Lance barely ever acted like himself this season.

I thought they threw krolia around a bit too casually. Like she barely pops up and when she did it almost felt like the writers were like “oh yeah, i guess we should include her every now and then”

i thought allura being like “i don’t have a family” to lance was bullshit. like, hello, coran and romelle are right freaking there. more alteans are showing up every day. girl, what tf do you mean???

allura was also kind of excessively mean on multiple occasions?? she was cutting people off, being unreasonable, reckless, and kind of dark..... i didn’t really understand the sudden downfall of her character when she’d started out as this sort of insecure victim, but season after season became stronger and stronger and an awesome member of voltron. idk, it just felt out of place to make her a part of the problem for the final act.

i wish i had......... cried. i wish they’d written at least one moment well enough that i actually got to experience at least a little bit of a tear.

adam didn’t magically come back from the dead.

OMG and the kiss between shiro and random dude???? IT WAS SO SLOPPY, I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. it was obviously thrown in at the very last possible moment because they were trying to cover their own asses about the adam thing. like, what was with that bad animation....

epilogues in general are just........ so bad. no one should do them. stop.

omg they never explained the altean colonies...

honestly, as we kept getting closer and closer to the last episode, i was like....... they do know this is the LAST season, right??? they’re kind of running out of time??

that black entity thing should’ve been fleshed out more and had more of an actual purpose, especially because they touched on it before with the paladins of old.

i feel like the writers just threw so many things out there over 8 seasons and didn’t actually.... resolve most of them. like, they needed to edit down sooooo much of what they were trying to do. it would’ve been such a stronger series overall if they’d just FOCUSED on the actual compelling parts of this story and its characters.

i feel zero closure tbh, lol. whatever.

the mixed

overall, i was pretty engaged for the most part from episode to episode, but i did get pretty damn bored a few times.

oh god, the leaks were real. it’s good and bad.

lance and allura still felt SOOOO forced and awkward but at least they tried to give them some actual substance.

like I said before, yay romelle was back! but boo, she wasn’t as quirky or funny anymore :(

Slav bothering everyone was still quite enjoyable to me. i wish shiro had gotten roped into that more, tho. Missed opportunity.

Atlas didn’t feel quite as dumb... but it was still kind of dumb.

i thought honerva honestly held up as a villain. Maybe not a FINAL season villain, but meh. her motivation seemed legit enough and the lengths she was willing to go after 10k years of pain seemed real. I just..... ugh, i wish they’d stuck to her just being evil. Or revengeful. Lok tried to do the same thing with kuvira right at the end. there just... wasn’t enough time to actually do that right, in either case. Or if they were going to do it, Honerva should’ve sacrificed just herself and allura should’ve left with all the other paladins, and that could’ve redeemed her character if that’s what they were going for.

the 2nd episode that focused just on honerva was... fine i guess, but i thought they didn’t define the mixing of timelines very well. it would jump from one clip to another and i didn’t realize fully that we’d gone back in time, or returned to the present, or were seeing this important thing before moving on to another. idk, the order just didn’t work for me.

i’m glad allura got so much more focus but i feel like keith had so many important story points throughout every season and it felt weird that he was kind of just in the background for the most part of every episode.... like if vld had a “main” character, i always kind of felt that it was slightly keith.... so i’m sad that he didn’t really get much of an ending.

and that being said, i guess this is just a negative, but i feel like keith and shiro’s relationship just didn’t matter anymore??? that was so weird to me?? it was such a focus for SO LONG, it didn’t feel good to just never address them ever.

there was this really awesome momentum going in the first half of season 8 for this theme of “not holding on to the past / letting the old give way to the new” and they just….. totally lost it. Like, it just never came up again by the end, lol. But i liked it a lot while it was initially there. Just.... wish these writers knew how to stick a landing, jesus.

like, that older olkari woman that pidge was trying to call out to? she probably had one of the best speeches of the season when she was telling that little olkari girl to go on and be a part of the future. that’s what i’m saying. it had good momentum. they just didn’t fully realize it :/

i think where they started to lose the narrative was in the two part episode, the knights of light ones. going into honerva’s mind seemed cool and i appreciated them trying to do a few interesting things with it, but bringing back the old paladins didn’t feel right. For some reason, I didn’t enjoy allura reconnecting with like, the spirit of her father. I felt like it was a loss that should’ve remained a loss. and yeah, just in general, having them bring up the idea of the benefits and power behind “the old making way for the new” just wasn’t supported by bringing the old paladins BACK... it felt counterproductive. i didn’t like it.

Anyway. I feel like i’m still forgetting stuff and I’ll probably go back and edit this post but yeah. Enjoyed a decent chunk of the final season. Cannot..... even believe how dumb some of the writing choices were. Will forever be slightly confused. Canon is whatever. I’ve still enjoyed this show and its characters and a lot of the amazing content fans have created for it, and it is what it is and at least it’s over and done with :]

#spoilers #so many spoilers #vld spoilers #voltron s8 #voltron #my thoughts

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calzona-ga · 6 years ago

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Warning: Spoiler alert! Do not proceed if you have not watched Thursday's 332nd episode of Grey's Anatomy, which officially makes it the longest-running primetime medical drama, surpassing ER.

Grey's Anatomy became the longest-running primetime TV medical drama Thursday by celebrating with a party, both on and off screen.

Abandoning tradition, ABC's crown jewel marked its milestone 332nd hour -- officially surpassing ER for the honor -- with a get-together that brought together the current ensemble, led by OGs Ellen Pompeo, Justin Chambers, Chandra Wilson and James Pickens Jr., to commemorate Catherine's (Debbie Allen) new lease on life following her successful cancer surgery. Unlike the majority (if not all) of Grey's' previous episodes, this one didn't feature any medicine or medical case, a decision showrunner Krista Vernoff, whose history with the show dates back to the groundbreaking 2005 pilot, said was intentional.

"It's pretty extraordinary, and a little surreal. ER is such a television legacy, and was such an extraordinary program. If ER didn't exist, Grey's wouldn't exist. So, we owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to ER, and to [executive producer] John Wells, and we are so grateful," Vernoff, who spent five seasons working alongside Wells on Shameless, told ET on Thursday of Grey's making history. "This is exciting and monumental and a little crazy, and we're all just sort of walking around here looking at each other like, 'What?'" (George Clooney, who played pediatrician Doug Ross on ER for the first five seasons, joked in February, "That's got to stop. We gotta go back and do more!")

And unlike the Grey's landmark 300th episode in its 14th season, which paid tributes to past cast members who have since departed, like Sandra Oh, T.R. Knight and Patrick Dempsey, hour 332 looked ahead at what's still to come for the doctors of Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. Because, as Vernoff said, "To celebrate how far we've come, and how far we have yet to go."

Following Thursday's historic Grey's TV moment, Vernoff jumped on the phone with ET to reflect on the lasting legacy of the ABC series and looks ahead at what's still to come, including Meredith and DeLuca's full-fledged romance, the unexpected arrival of DeLuca's father and what's next.

ET: Congratulations on making TV history! How did ER shape Grey's Anatomy into what it's become? Krista Vernoff: ER broke the mold for medical shows, and it was incredible, and it was dramatic, and it was just groundbreaking television for its time. And when we were in the writers' room in the early years of Grey's Anatomy, our conversations were often, how do we do it differently than ER? Like, we didn't want to be an ER copycat. How do we be in the hospital world and do it differently than ER? In the early years of the show we rarely brought in patients through the emergency room. They usually came in through surgical rounds.

We leaned, tonally, into romantic comedy, which I think was a part of [creator] Shonda [Rhimes]' pitch from the very beginning. As I recall, when she pitched the show, she said, "We have the drama and excitement of ER, but a tone that's all our own, with romance and humor in equal parts." We always, in television, build on each other's legacies. There was MASH, and then there was China Beach, and there were multiple shows in between, and there was ER, which really broke new ground. And Grey's Anatomy is... We all stand on each other's shoulders.

In approaching this particular episode, what did you want to accomplish or achieve with this hour that differentiated it from a typical episode of Grey's? With the 300th episode, we looked backward. It was a very nostalgic episode. It paid tribute to the whole length of the series. With this episode, we made the decision to look forward, and to celebrate how far we've come, and how far we have yet to go. And so, Bailey's speech to Catherine of "We don't know what the future holds, but no one ever knows what the future holds." People still love us, we're still here, and that's cause for celebration," was really the theme. We threw a party to celebrate this milestone. And we wanted to do something different than we had ever done before.

There was a lot of brainstorming, and what we came up with was we had never done an episode with no medicine. I think this episode is probably a little bewildering to watch after 15 seasons of Grey's Anatomy. You keep waiting for the medical crisis that never comes. That's how we decided to break new ground with this episode, while also emotionally laying the groundwork for the stories moving forward.

The episode did a good job of sprinkling in red herrings, especially with the arrival of Alex's mom, Helen Karev (guest star Lindsay Wagner). I thought something was actually wrong until it was revealed that, actually no, she was right about the fire. Thank you. And I have to say, Andy Reaser, who has been on the show for many years now, wrote this episode, and he did an amazing job with the question of, who started the fire and all the fire hazards and [having] a little bit of mystery -- a little bit of mislead. He did it beautifully. And Chandra Wilson, who directed it.

Speaking of looking ahead, it appears as though you're fully embracing the idea of Meredith and DeLuca. Is this the end of the love triangle with Link?The love triangle with Link is over.

Was it a surprise to you that we would be talking about Meredith and DeLuca in this way? It was a surprise. I think it was a surprise to Meredith, and that is what's so joyful in watching it, is how life surprises us all the time. Every idea that we have about our life and what's going to happen next, we're always wrong, and life comes in and surprises us. And DeLuca has come in and surprised Meredith, and put her. She's bewildered and delighted by this turn of events. And I think you see that all over her face. But the amount of smiling that we're seeing from Meredith is really a joy. Where does this leave Link? Is there another story involving him that has yet to be explored that you can tease? There is. Link has some of his... Some of the most exciting and delightful stuff I've seen this season is coming from Link in the coming episodes, but I don't want to tease what it is. I asked Giacomo Gianniotti recently whether he believed Meredith and DeLuca were endgame. What is your take? For sure. The one thing I know for sure is that I'm not going to comment on Meredith's endgame at this stage, and the reason for that is that there's no end in sight to this show. We are still delivering ABC's highest rating in the demographic. We are still their No. 1 drama in the age 18-to-49 demographic, 15 seasons in. So, I'm not building to the end of the series. I am looking forward, much as Bailey and Catherine's conversation mirrored. We don't know what life is going to bring us, and we are looking forward. And so, I'm not commenting on endgame because for me there's no end in sight. At the end of the episode, we met DeLuca's dad, Vicenzo (guest star Lorenzo Caccialanza), for the very first time, who called Andrew by his given Italian name, Andrea. How is the unexpected arrival of his dad going to shake things up? Dad brings drama. If Dad's wardrobe suggested anything, and the arrival, and the Italian that nobody understands -- including Meredith. Like, Meredith speaks a tiny little bit of Italian, Meredith took three years of Italian in undergrad. She didn't understand that conversation that they were having any more than any of the rest of us did, so when [DeLuca's] dad stepped out of that limo, everybody but people who are fluent in Italian were completely shocked. Dad brings drama, for sure, and that's all I'm going to say.

I do remember DeLuca mentioning that his dad was a renowned but corrupt surgeon in Italy who was mentally unstable, and he's not exactly what he was before. Is that what you're exploring in terms of his arrival?DeLuca's father has a history of mental illness and it's a complicated relationship for DeLuca. And yes, those are some of the themes we're looking at moving forward.

Amelia and Owen really went through a roller-coaster this episode. Amelia breaks up with Owen, and now they find themselves in a place where they may be co-parenting Leo. Is Leo the saving grace to their relationship? What are you setting up here? I don't want to tease what's happening moving forward, but I do want to say that I think that story was really beautifully told, and I think that we felt so much joy in the return of Leo to Owen and Amelia, and simultaneously this heartbreak of "Wow, they just broke up, like, what happens now?" And I think that Amelia had a real moment of clarity at the party when Meredith pointed out that Teddy has been a thing in Owen's life and will always be a thing in Owen's life. And she realized that it wasn't a love triangle so much as a circle that is making her dizzy, and she's stepped out of the circle. It will be really interesting to see what happens now that Leo's back.

Is Betty/Britney's story over? Are you satisfied with how that story wrapped up? Peyton Kennedy is an incredible young actress, and so, I don't know. I love her, and I love the character. I'll always call her Betty, because I think it's her preferred name. I love her, and I guess my hope for her is that she gets clean and sober, and finds some happiness back with her parents, who I do not think are bad people. But who knows?

And Teddy and Koracick. When did you get the idea to put them together? I'm really enjoying their dynamic and I didn't expect to. The idea emerged in the writers' room earlier this season, and you float test balloons with actors and their chemistry when you begin to build a thing. You put them in a scene or two together and see how it plays. And from the minute we put them next to each other at the table read we were like, Oh, that's happening. Koracick brings out a lightness in Teddy that is just a joy to see. He makes her laugh, and she deserves to laugh. I think she does the same for him. We've learned so much about his history as a character, and his personal pain, and it's really fun to see them bringing joy to each other.

Again, congrats on the milestone. It really doesn't seem like the show's going to ever really end.

#grey's anatomy #Krista Vernoff #eonline #scoop

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taevcngs-blog · 6 years ago

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best mistake - taeyong

Genre: Short Series; Fluff. [bad boy, thief, taeyong au!]

Word Count: 3K

Summary: You lived in a world full of books, while he lived in a world full of you.

While you worked in your towns local bookstore, you meet with a thief. He attempts his mischievous ways until you catch him. Sparing his life from the police, you two make a deal, but what you both don’t know is that the deal ends with a plot twist that you’ve only ever read about in books.

A/N: tbh i could of done better with part two, but i have another series in mind and i think that one will be way better than this! anyways thank you for the support and if you liked any bit of this, i appreciate it!

part one | part two

Usually your afternoons consisted of pages, cash and Johnny’s corny jokes between customers. This afternoon was different. This time you felt like you were babysitting, babysitting a grown adult. You managed to convince your boss to hire Taeyong since you needed more workers anyways. You let Johnny know that Taeyong was a close friend of yours, somehow Johnny knew something was a bit odd. He didn’t question you though, but he kept his eye on Taeyong most of the time.

“This… This is the most boring job I’ve ever had, and trust me I’ve gotten fired from a lot of jobs,” Taeyong sighs, resting his head behind the counter.

“Yeah well, keep that head of yours up. You owe me one, remember?” You roll your eyes, stocking the little goodies displayed by check out.

“How can I forget when you practically choked me to death by my hood,” he grumbles.

You squeeze your eyes shut, containing the annoyance bubbling up in you. You grit through your teeth, “I have a hunch we won’t be getting along well, Taeyong.”

He pouts, defensive and taken back, “yeah well start acting like you do before your boyfriend realizes we aren’t really friends-“ before he could continue snapping, you smack his head with one of the items in your hand.

“Ah!” He rubs the mark on his head, glaring at you.

“Could you be any louder?! And what boyfriend are you talking about?!” You angrily whisper.

“Aren’t you and Jackson over there an item?” He nods his head towards Johnny’s direction.

Rolling your eyes you shake your head, “Johnny, is my coworker and close friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Got that, airhead?” You walk away from him before your temper got any worse. You could of sworn you heard him mutter something, but you just brushed it off and continued your usual job.

When lunch time came around, you usually spent that time across the street. There was a great cafe that served amazing warm sandwiches with their drinks. Their tables outside were never dirty, and the service was amazing. Majority of your lunches took place at this cafe as you read your books while enjoying your meal. This time you were writing in your journal, hoping that you would somehow find inspiration at one of your favorite places. Taking a sip from your mug, you look out the glass screen you sat beside, watching the people walk to wherever they needed to. You ignored the bell that rang as another customer walked in.

You can’t help it, it’s still on your mind and you know it. The concept of romance. Most importantly what is romance? Why do you want to write about it so badly if you can’t even understand it. So, the thought came to you; write down anything that makes your heart skip. In order to understand love, you have to feel it. You decided even the small things count, so let's start now.

Continuing to peacefully look out the window, you decide to jot down things that make your heart flutter, even a mental note to yourself if possible. You thought about peoples eyes. You think they say a lot about them, and their expressions. you can almost see someone's thoughts through their eyes and that’s what made them so important to you. You loved humor, if you could joke around with someone, then they automatically made you comfortable. You happen to notice a couple holding hands while passing by. They where everything you always read about when it came down to romance, it was very easy to tell when others are in love, but could it be easy for you to know when you are?

You felt a presence next to you, causing you to look away from the window. You notice Taeyong smiling at you while he has a coffee in his hand along with a few cookies. He looked a bit hesitant, but you figured he just didn’t want to make the interaction anymore awkward.

“Uh hey, I saw you sitting here alone and I thought you might use the company, unless I’m like wrong or something,” He slowly sits down across from you, trying to find any signs of annoyance.

You sigh, deciding to give him a chance, “yeah, I was just finishing up. I thought your lunch break wasn’t till later?” You ask.

“Johnny kind of let me off the hook since I’m new,” he takes a sip of his coffee, eyes wandering to your opened journal. His eyes lightly skim it, noticing some sentences you had written down.

“Are you a writer?” His brow lifts.

“You seem to have a few ideas written down there,” he smiles, interested.

You quickly shut the journal, clearing your throat. Your eyes quickly wander around you out of embarrassment, avoiding eye contact with Taeyong.

“I don’t know if I’ll call myself a writer, but I do write from time to time for fun,” you clear your throat.

You were giving off to much awkward vibes. Just relax, it’s just Taeyong, you thought. Just another person who needs to take responsibility for his mistakes. Remember, he’s a troublemaker.

“Well, if you’re writing and love to do it then you’re a writer. I’m sure you’re a great one too,” he smiles at you again, his smile bigger than before, genuine and warm, his eyes smiling just as much.

Smiles.

You notice how he took child-like sized bites of his cookies, looking out the window so innocently. It was almost mind blowing to you that this is the same man with piercings, bright hair and edgy clothes. It was pure irony to you. His bad boy style completely contrasted to the innocence he portrays in his personality.

Never judge a book by its cover.

You smile back at him, “we still have some time left before we have to go back. So mister trouble maker, tell me more about yourself. Other than snooping and stealing, what else do you do for fun? What type of person are you, really?”

He rolled his eyes, a bit annoyed at your last comment but continued to answer. He gets comfortable in his booth, leaning more into the table. His hands are folded together, his head turning back to the window and watching everything happening from the outside.

“Other than being a laid off worker... I like to dance. If I’m not working, studying or even hanging out with some friends, I’m most likely dancing,” He sighs, but this time it wasn’t out of annoyance, almost like he needed this, he needed someone to talk to.

“I grew up in a pretty, uh, weird household,” he says, a questioning tone in his voice.

“Everyone around me had been going into our family business. I was always different though. My family liked numbers when the only numbers I liked where dance numbers. I was always the family “drama” kid. I still don’t know why I’m different, however I don’t hate it. My dancing elevated to something bigger when I met my best friend, Yuta. He entered my Uni after moving from Japan, and we just clicked. We help each other with our dancing, and now we’re in a dance group. We want it to grow and create our own movement, something big and incredible…” He starts losing track, once he notices he clears his throat and sits back a bit.

“Anyways, I study at Uni hoping that it can impress any company. I could go to my parents for that, however I want to be independent. If I’m going to succeed, I want it to come from my hard work not from theres. The only reason why I went to them is for school loans but they got tired of my constant begging, and threw me out unless I follow the steps of the rest of my family. Now, I’m here working for a bookstore I did wrongly of, talking to a girl who thinks I snoop for fun,” he says the last part lightly, jokingly as if it’s just air, but something about it just hits you.

After listening to his story, you grew a soft spot for him. Maybe you pitied him, felt bad for all he has to go through. Maybe, you just relate to him too much and completely understand where he’s coming from, desiring to help him out. You return with a soft smile, sincere and thoughtful. He could tell by your eyes, and you could tell by his.

Determination.

Strength.

A motivator.

“I’m sorry for misjudging you,” you apologize, breaking the silence.

“Its okay, I honestly don’t blame you. You seem like a strong independent person, I admire that,” he gives you that same smile. The same expression he’s been giving you since he found you. It was soft, it was safe. It made you feel warm, but you figure it’s just nothing.

Before you could respond you check your phone, realizing you’re going to be late to your shifts.

“We’re gonna be late, we should go now!” You grabbed your things, throwing out your leftovers in the nearby trash.

“What about your story?” He asks, throwing his leftovers away too.

You grab his hand, rushing each other out the cafe, “my story can wait, I’m an open book, trust me I have no secrets to hide.”

Warmth.

He looks at you while you guys charge back to the store. His eyes lower to the grip you still have on his hand. Something about this makes him smirk. Taeyong felt like he could get used to this now. You were honest, driven, and responsible yet a complete mystery. He admired your skills, and something told him that maybe he wouldn’t hate this job as much as he thought he would.

The rest of your day became extremely weird after your talk with Taeyong. Weird as in your day consisted of constant stares from Taeyong’s way, finding yourself staring back. Whenever you guys bumped into each other, it became really awkward and you kept finding excuses to leave his side. This was noticed a lot by Johnny as well, which ended up with him giving you a talk on how you should be more open with him if you have a crush, however that conversation ended real quick after cutting him off and denying the fact you felt something for Taeyong.

Connection.

This time the store was closing, and Johnny had already left. Your boss depended on you to lock the place up after cleaning. You thought Taeyong would leave with Johnny, but rather he insisted on cleaning up shelves, probably to make up for the messes he made.

After you finished counting the money in the cash register, you rest, laying against the counter and sighing.

“You look... dead,” Taeyong appears in front of you, dusting off his hands and chuckling.

“I’m going to knock out once I get home,” you groan.

“You’re tired already? Awe man, I was hoping you would finally tell me your story,” Taeyong pouts.

You raise a brow at him, “is that why you stayed here all this time, to just listen about my life?”

He nodded like a puppy, sending a weird feeling to your heart.

You clear your throat, “well aren’t you special.”

“Come on, I’m sure the boss wouldn’t mind if you stayed around a bit longer. No one is going to come in anyways,” he jumps onto the counter, causing you to jump at how close he was to you.

Giving up, you lean forward and nod your head. If you were going to spend any time with him might as well take advantage of the time you currently have.

“Well Lee Taeyong, my life is… Uh, kind of similar to yours? Literature runs in my family, it always has. Whether its being a poet, an author, an english teacher, literature has always just been there. When I’m not at school or working here, I’m usually home writing short stories? Journal entries? Articles? I don’t know exactly what they are yet, but I do know I just write whatever comes to my mind. It’s really therapeutic to me. As much as I love reading and writing, I’m not too sure if that’s what I want to do. I see it more as a hobby rather than a lifestyle,” You stare into space, thinking about the many times you’ve thought about this without telling anyone.

A listener.

Patience.

Care.

“I want to travel, write about my adventures. Now that… that seems like fun to me. A job where I can travel wherever I want to go to, and write about my experiences. I know there’s many jobs that do that, but I haven’t finished school yet, and I kind don’t know if I can handle doing that alone. Besides, Johnny and I don’t have a big friend group, which is probably because I’ve always been focused on building a carrier rather than building a social life. I thrive for success in where I’ll be stable, happy, able to support my family. I guess I’ve never realized how much I needed to build my own source group of friends in order to make that happen. Now I’m here, always have been working here. I see a lot of people from my college here, I just don’t know them well enough. What I do know well is, practically every book in this store. I know what a good plot is, a perfect storyline. I learned a lot about writing through these authors which is why I cherish this cheap job a lot,” you smile, looking up at Taeyong with bright eyes.

Reassuring eyes.

His eyes were soft, completely into your words. He understood you, admired you, read you well. He feels comfortable around you. It hasn’t been a long time, but he feels connected to you in which he has never felt before with anyone else. His past relationships haven’t been near this feeling he holds in his heart right now. Especially when you smile while talking about your passions, pout when you’re tired, and express yourself better than any book anyone could pick up.

Realizing he’s been staring, he blinks rapidly, coming back to earth, “I might not dislike you after all Y/N, perhaps you’re kind of cool.”

“Perhaps you’re not bad yourself, Taeyong,” you chuckle, noticing how much darker its gotten outside.

“Oh shit, it's getting dark. We should really lock up,” You remove yourself behind the counter, putting your jacket on and grabbing the keys.

Meanwhile, Taeyong was still sitting there, watching you in awe. He’s never started liking someone within the same week of meeting them, yet you just had a grasp around his heart. After watching you get ready, he jumped off the counter leaving with you.

“I guess this is where we say goodbye till tomorrow,” You finish locking up, standing outside the doors with him.

“Would you mind if I walked you home? It can be really dangerous around this time, I wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you,” He stuffs his hands in his pockets nervously.

Safety.

Protection.

“I-I actually would really love the company,” Your smile gave Taeyong the confirmation that all he needed was you by his side right now.

The walk back to your apartment was probably the best memory you will ever cherish. You got to know Taeyong more, and he got to know a lot more about you as well.

Someone who you can create and cherish memories with.

The feeling you both got around each other was incredible. You thought you only read about these type of feelings in fiction. The type of fiction that becomes so popular that they turn into hit movies. The type of stories that leave you dreaming, or the type of poems that only a romantic could only relate to. This feeling was greater than any stanza, any sentence, any metaphor you could possibly create. He was a motivator, a listener. He was the balance you’ve been searching for. Someone who can dream with you and someone who gives your world the best chapters any story can ever have.

The way someone looks at you before realizing they’ll have to spend a second without you.

“I guess this is it,” your frown deepens when you realize you’re home.

The sparks when someone touches you.

Taeyong grabs your hands, inching closer to you. His eyes wander all over you; from your eyes, your nose and your lips. An obvious blush grows upon his pale face.

When one look can say a thousand words.

“Y/N… I don’t know if your story involves an amazing sidekick, but if you don’t mind… I would love to take you out one day. I would love to experience more with you, learn more about you, be apart of that story you picture…”

Knowing that one person can change everything about you any time, any place.

“What I’m trying to say is- what I’m trying to ask is, may I take you out on a date? Can I have a chance? I know from a lot of peoples perspective, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but if snooping was the biggest mistake I’ve made then it's certainly the best mistake I’ve ever experienced,” His facial expressions are forced into confidence, only deep down is filled with fear. Fearing more rejection.

Butterflies constantly fluttering in the pits of your stomach.

When was the last time you ever smiled this hard? When was the last time you decided to give anyone a chance? This was your life, your future and it’s time for you to start making changes. It’s time for you to open yourself up to more people, accepting these feelings you’ve been suppressing. This was your chance, and Taeyong was your chance to grow, to love. So you accepted his offer, being the giddiest you have ever been in your life. This was your new chapter, and now things are becoming clearer.

With his excitement jolting through his body, he leans in close to you, planting a gentle yet longing kiss on your forehead. He pulls you in a hug, warming your body and importantly, warming your heart.

Late night exchanges.

This was just the start of building a better future, only you two wouldn’t be facing it alone anymore. Your thoughts then started to make sense to you, it was never about learning about love, it was about building it, experiencing it. That was the missing piece of your plot.

Before he could walk away, in hopes of it becoming the next day already, he turns around to stare once more.

His scent still attached to you, you wave your hand in the air, “just know this won’t get you off the hook, Lee Taeyong!”

“Whatever it takes to spend more time with you, Y/N!” He chuckles while walking away, off to a new beginning, a new chapter.

#taeyong #taeyong fanfic #nct #nct 127 #nct u #nct 2018 #taeyong x reader #taeyong au #taeyong fluff #taeyong series #nct series #nct scenarios #nct au #taeyong imagine #kpop imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 fluff #lee taeyong #taeyong scenarios

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jbuffyangel · 6 years ago

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Timeless 2x11 Reaction: “The Miracle of Christmas Part 1 and 2″

And thus Timeless is officially over. How did the writers fair with the series finale aka The Timeless movie? Pretty freakin’ fantastic.

Let’s dig in...

It’s been several months between Timeless’ Season 2 finale and their series finale tonight, so the writers wisely include a “Previously on Timeless.” We flashback to all their adventures while Unhappy Future Lucy (who looks a little scary if I’m being honest) narrates. It helps because I seriously forgot her mother is dead. (They kill Susanna Thompson on every damn show!)

The beginning is a little jarring because storylines I expected to happen in a season or two are all happening RIGHT NOW. My brain needs time to downshift, but I eventually adjust.

First things first - dealing with the third point in the love triangle, Garcia Flynn. Timeless isn’t interested in drawing out the shipper war because Wyatt and Lucy are kind of a mess. They require some screen time so they are fixed in a realistic manner.

Scary Future Lucy gives Present Day Lucy and Wyatt her diary. Spoiler alert: Lucy hooks up with Flynn. Spoiler alert: They break up sometime down the road because she is really in love with Wyatt. They play out Lucy and Flynn’s entire relationship in under 3 minutes. I’m not joking when I say they breeze through three to four seasons worth of triangle.

I love Goran Visnjic, and while I adore Lucy and Wyatt, I was never opposed to Lucy and Flynn. I mean yeah he’s a murderer. That’s a real negative, but it’s friggin Goran Visnic. Have you seen this guy? He’s so hot. Where Dr. Luca goes so goes my nation.

Kidding aside, the writers convey the depth of Lucy and Flynn’s relationship with just a few lines, which is an impressive writing achievement. I love how Flynn is all “I can’t believe you date me because I tried to kill you a bunch of times.” HAHAHA. Classic. And true! Ah the joy of television romance. But it ain’t gonna be you Flynn, so mosey along big fella.

Jessica is not pregnant. UGH. I HATED THIS STORYLINE SO MUCH.

I appreciate the writers giving it a fast and hard death, but this is one of the ways I think Season 2 went wrong. Timeless is a show that defied the typical television tropes and that’s what made it so interesting in Season 1. However, I think their Season 2 renewal, and desire to snare more viewers, created a “throw everything, but the kitchen sink” mentality.

They used every romance trope they could think of in Season 2 to see what would stick. It was just... not good. I don’t blame Timeless anymore than I do any other show that does this (and it’s pretty much all of them). It was just disappointing to see the show move in this direction, when previously they’d been so good at avoiding those kinds of storylines.

Flynn sacrifices himself by going back to 2012 to kill Jessica, so Rufus never dies. REDEMPTION ARC BITCHES!!! YESSSS!!

Seriously, he is so bad ass. Flynn puts a couple bullets in Jessica (plus one extra to be sure) after a ninja knockdown fight. He knows the effects of traveling to his own timeline will kill him... or something. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Then he watches 2012 Flynn with his beautiful and living family through a window before he dies.

Flynn leaves a goodbye letter for Lucy that pretty much says he loves her, but he knows she loves Wyatt and he wants her to be happy. So yes, GARCIA FLYNN sacrifices himself for Rufus, ensures Lucy and Wyatt find the happy ending they deserve even though he is in love with Lucy, helps stop Rittenhouse and save the world. I AM SO EMO ABOUT MY BOY RIGHT NOW!

As for Lucy and Wyatt, they tiptoe around each other for most of the two hours. Wyatt thinks she ends up with Flynn and Lucy doesn’t want to be second choice. They are the only two who remember the Jessica history. Dear God, can we all forget too? Everyone is pretty much, “Why aren’t y’all together because y’all were together before and it was perfection?” So meta.

Wyatt almost dies in an explosion while delivering a baby during the fall of North Korea. Yes, you read that correctly. WYATT LOGAN IS HERE TO SAVE NATIONS AND DELIVER BABIES!

Lucy realizes she almost lost Wyatt and they are wasting time worrying about the past.

This part of the finale feels really predictable to me. There’s no way they are killing off Wyatt, especially after Flynn dies. Lyatt is endgame, so the two characters dancing around it for so long feels like prolonging the inevitable.

“After that explosion I thought you were dead. And for a moment I saw my whole life without you and my world ended Wyatt.”

But damn though, what a speech Lucy gives him.

Honestly, it is slightly annoying she did most of the talking because Wyatt is the one who screwed up. At least he offers up a “I wanted to pick you Lucy, but I felt I owed Jessica because she was my baby mama” explanation. Of course, we all knew this.

Lucy accepts Wyatt’s “I am a big pine tree” explanation because facts. Things really get cooking with some Lyatt mistletoe kissing.

Source: sisterzelda

Ah, a time honored holiday trope I will never grow tired of. Then they have sex

BUT CUT AWAY TOO SOON! Boo NBC!

Rufus is alive, but doesn’t remember being dead. Jiya remembers Rufus being dead, but he doesn’t remember Jiya living in Chinatown for three years in the 1800s. I think.

Jiya is concerned she’s no longer the woman Rufus fell in love with (re: see three years of trauma). I argue Rufus fell in love with a bad ass and Jiya is still most certainly one. It is frustrating how quickly they had to go through her physical and emotional trauma from Chinatown. Ugh, this is some seriously important drama that could have been a multiple season deep dive. Stupid cancellation.

Rufus and Jiya realize they are still perfect for each other, because they are perfect for each other. They start a company together and become billionaires saving the world. Jiya’s hair color is extremely pretty in the final scenes too. I feel this is very important detail to include. I heart them.

Source: katie-mcgraths

Lucy and Wyatt discuss how they don’t want to become scary Lucy and Wyatt from the future and THEY DON’T BECAUSE OF FLYNN. They get married, Wyatt works for Agent Christopher on special projects, and Lucy is a tenured history professor who focuses on important historical women. BECAUSE THERE AIN’T NO TIME FOR THE MEN! That’s right fellas. Drink your tea and wait your turn.

Unfortunately, Lucy is not able to get her sister Amy back. She gives an poignant speech about grief and loss, which could be the show’s mission statement. This is how you write a series finale:

"Everybody loses someone they love. And no matter how badly they want to they can't get them back. In spite of that they find a way to go on. That's everyone's history."

What connects all of time is our humanity. We are born. We live. We love. We suffer grief, pain and loss. We find joy. We endure. This is the thread century after century. In the end, we aren’t so different after all.

THEN LUCY AND WYATT GET MARRIED

Source: @splitscreen

AND HAVE TWIN GIRLS NAMED FLYNN AND AMY.

Source: @splitscreen

ALERT!!!!!!!!!! MULTIPLES CONCEIVED! IT IS THE DREAM! EVERYTHING IS AMAZING!!!!

The final scene is 2023 Lucy, Wyatt and Rufus traveling to 2014 to tell Garcia Flynn about the time machine. Lucy tells Flynn he doesn’t lose his humanity even though he never gets his family back. He is the hero the team and the world needs in the end. It connects the beginning and end of Timeless so seamlessly. This was probably always going to be the bookend. I just wish we had a few more seasons in between it.

They hint at a future time machine being invented by a young girl Rufus took an interest in at the science fair. The morality of the time machine is debated between Agent Christopher and Connor. She wants to destroy it, but Connor argues they need to keep it so they can stop others from abusing its power. You can’t un-invent something. Someone sooner or later will create the same technology Connor and Rufus did. They have a responsibility to make sure time travel is not abused and another Rittenhouse does not rise. So, the time machine is kept, covered, guarded and waiting.

Do I think we’ll see a resurrected Timeless about this girl and her time machine? No. I don’t. This is the last stop on the Timeless train and, while it was a wonderful ride, it is over. Actors are released from contracts. Writers, producers, crew, etc have all moved on to other gigs. It’s a freaking miracle they even made the movie. (Apropos episode title).

Timeless approached the series finale the correct way, which is what’s important to me. They didn’t leave a bunch of loose ends. The world was saved and I saw all our beloved characters living their happy lives in peace. I need to know these characters are going to be okay, so I can say goodbye.

Thank you Timeless for the insightful way you approached history, your cast of wonderful characters, humor and unflinching honesty. I look forward to the streaming deal so I can rewatch again and again.

Source: yasmin-khan

Stray Thoughts

The finale is one EPIC Lucy speech after another. My girl runs this show.

Nobody was dressed appropriately for a North Korea winter.

It looked like the mother threw her newborn into Wyatt’s arms as her son came running to her. LOL Nice catch, soldier.

"I've loved you since the Alamo." Girl is that ever right.

Don't mock. Saint Christopher is for REAL. He has helped me out of many jams.

Hahaha. Wyatt said m'am. That's how you know it's the end.

#timeless #timeless review #timeless series finale #timeless 2x11 #the timeless movie #lyatt #lucy preston #wyatt logan #rufus carlin #jiya marri #rufus x jiya

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vatrixsta · 6 years ago

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How Long Will I Love You (1/2)

PRESTO! @the-corsair-and-her-quill IT IS I, YOUR SECRET SANTA! It was so, so fun stalking getting to know you over the last few weeks! Because you do not love Christmas in a traditional, cheesy way, I have written you an angsty CS AU Emma who is having trouble with her husband. Yes, it’s very cheery :D Hopefully I’ve read the room right when it comes to your tastes and preferences and I REALLY REALLY hope you enjoy it!!

I’ve tried to leave the first part in an okay place, but I’m hoping to finish it off for you by the weekend at the latest. Yes, it’s the gift that unfortunately keeps on giving!

Man, I really thought I could write this little angst bomb as a one shot, but I very much underestimated my own desire to torture poor Emma. This will be up on AO3 after I’ve... slept. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!

How Long Will I Love you (1/2)

xxx

Emma Swan-Jones was absolutely positive of one thing: her husband was hiding something.

Killian was not the secretive type. He’d worn his heart on his sleeve as long as she’d known him, something that had caused them both a great deal of frustration early on in their courtship. Emma had been jaded single mother just trying to keep her and Henry’s head above water and Killian… well, he’d just been so steadfast, so sure right from the start that it had freaked her out a little. The fact that he was Henry’s favorite author? That had definitely made his job of winning her heart a hell of a lot harder.

So yes, she’d been the one pulling away, doubting, constantly testing him for the first few months of their relationship, something she felt bad about later but honestly couldn’t imagine any other way. Her walls had been sky high after, you know, her whole fucking life, being abandoned, foster care, all the people who made it clear they never wanted her and no one ever really would - then fucking Neal and prison and Henry was the only good thing she got out of all that - no way would she get a charming British rogue who spent his free time writing children’s stories about a skewed take on Peter Pan. No, that was not for her, no matter how much he tried to convince her that she and Henry were all he wanted.

Except… he had. They built a life together. They got married. They moved around for a long time, three nomads looking for a place to plant roots as Emma’s work took her wherever the leads did and Henry was all too happy to continue home study and Killian could write from anywhere. He let her read his first drafts and she let him read over her shoulder when she was researching her skips. He was constantly challenging her and annoying her and being the best stepdad to Henry and just… he wasn’t perfect, but he also kind of was? She could barely remember what life was like before their twosome became three; didn’t really want to remember. It felt like they’d always been together, the three of them, with Killian in charge of steering the ship, emotionally speaking.

Maybe that was the real problem. Emma had gotten used Killian always being the grown up in the relationship and now that he was taking up the part of the sullen, moody teenager who lied to her face when she asked him what was wrong, she didn’t know how to deal with it.

Hadn’t he read the contract between them? She was the moody teenager in the relationship, at least for a few more years, before Henry turned into an actual moody teenager.

This had to stop. She was going to stop it. Be the bigger person. Not fall back on decades of rejection and shitty emotional behavior and lose the nerve to force him to talk to her.

….

So yeah, she totally lost the nerve. Killian was sitting in the office, broodily staring at a blank computer screen and she tried to use the perfect opening.

“Hey. Are the pages not cooperating?”

It was smooth. She actually thought about it before she said it, not at all typical Emma behavior. She’d asked him about his writing before, when it seemed like he was in a bit of a funk and he’d always use the opportunity to escape for awhile, maybe take Henry to a movie or, if they were near water, to look at the boats by the harbor. Sometimes he’d compliment her - all, your boy’s a marvel, Swan, nothing like a trip to the pier with the little spitfire to knock a spot of writer’s block into the dust. Over time, it became our boy and her heart clenched with how easily the word rolled off his tongue and hers.

So his response today was somewhat underwhelming.

“What?” he asked, distracted, moody, dare she say - a bit twitchy.

Emma’s eyes narrowed. Every hackle she has was rising. But this was her husband. She trusted him. She loved him, completely. So he was having an off week. She’d had her share of them and he bore them with grace. She was not going to interrogate him like a suspect.

“Let’s go out to dinner,” she said, trying to be positive. Henry was at a sleepover and maybe he was feeling like she was - a little out of sorts without their favorite playmate. She would ignore the fact that this behavior had been going on for weeks, pretty much, she realized, since they’d settled down in Boston. “Somewhere nice, with tablecloths where you can get handsy while we overpay for whatever’s labeled market price.”

Seafood and groping - two of her husband’s favorite treats. But when his eyes flickered, it wasn’t with the normal interest and good humor she expected. If she had to name the emotion that flashed behind those blue, blue eyes of his, a split second before his whole face shuttered to a neutral expression, she’d call it guilt. Maybe even a pinch of despair.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he said, definitely looking sorry, but not in a way she liked, “I should really keep plugging away at this.” He gestured at the keyboard with his prosthetic hand, the right scratching at the back of his neck like he had a rash.

“Yeah. Me too. I’ll make us some pasta then,” she mumbled, tucking down how much his rejection and the fact that he was lying to her hurt.

She fled to the kitchen and threw together a simple dinner neither of them really touched. He escaped back to his office as soon as he could and she went to bed early, wondering what the hell was going on with the man she married.

~~~

Henry returned from his sleepover late the next day and since it was Sunday, he reminded Killian they were supposed to check out the docks, an activity they hadn’t had time for since they moved to town. Boston was both big and small and getting to specific parts of the city sometimes took a huge chunk of time unless you were on foot. That was why they’d splurged on an apartment that was pricey but perfect and if you squinted, just within their budget - Killian had a great nest egg from the book sales and would receive an advance as soon as he’d finished the first three chapters of his next book. Emma had been saving from the moment she graduated from waiting tables to bail bonds and their combined good financial habits had secured them three bedrooms, a top floor and a glorious view of the water.

“It’ll be perfect, Swan,” Killian had said while they were still living from rental to rental. “Our first little hideaway by the sea until you retire and we can live somewhere much quieter, with fewer bail jumpers needing your always pertinent attention.”

That was back when he was still sweet talking her like usual. God, she hoped his outing with Henry would help him settle. He was always calmer by the water and the view aside, she knew he wasn’t satisfied until he’d gotten a good lungful of salt air.

She bided her time while they were out by doing laundry. Every time she passed the office - they shared it, but since his work dictated a quiet space a lot more than hers did, it was mostly Killian’s domain - she had to fight off the knee jerk urge she had to go snooping on his computer for answers. The doubt that was beginning to live in her breastbone was making it hard to remember how much she trusted Killian, like she’d never trusted anyone in her life.

The urge to snoop was definitely going to get the better of her if she stayed in the apartment, so Emma quickly bundled up and grabbed her wallet and keys. They were out of eggs and a few other essentials. Besides, it was six weeks ‘til Christmas and with all the moving drama she hadn’t bought anything for Henry or Killian. She could at least do some in person recon before she came home and ordered them stuff online.

She was putting away groceries when the apartment door banged shut.

“Hey Kid,” she greeted Henry, noticing the lack of anyone else behind him. “Where’s Killian?”

“He said he had an errand,” Henry huffed into the kitchen and noted Killian’s behavior with his usual tact and charm. “What crawled up his butt?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

He shrugged. “We were having a good time, we got ice cream and he was telling me about ships and Liam and it reminded me about my ancestry project for school. I asked him about his parents and he reminded me - as if I didn’t know - that he isn’t my biological father. We kind of… had a fight. He was trying to talk to me about him.”

Emma paused with the Eggos halfway to the freezer. Him. That was how Henry had referred to Neal since he was old enough to understand their history. Emma had no idea why Killian was suddenly bringing the subject up - as far as she knew, his feelings about Neal mirrored her own: if she ever ran into him in a dark alley, she’d at least bloody her knuckles on some part of his face.

“Maybe Killian was just trying to make sure you didn’t want to talk about him,” Emma offered. “I haven’t exactly done the best job of keeping you a neutral third party where he’s concerned. It would be… normal… if you were curious about your dad.” The words were like ash on her tongue, but she forced them out, mentally awarding herself ten points for Gryffindor.

Henry made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “After what he did to you? I don’t care about him. He’s not my dad. Killian’s…” He looked down and Emma was horrified to see tears in his eyes. “I thought Killian… I guess I was wrong.”

“Hey.” Emma put her hand on Henry’s chin and pulled his head up to meet her eyes. “Killian would take a bullet for you, kid. Whatever is going on with him - it is not about you and it is not about how much he loves you. Got it?”

“Got it,” Henry mumbled, eyes still downcast. “Can I play Xbox until dinner?”

Sighing, Emma forced her stiff little boy into an embrace and kissed his forehead soundly. “Yeah. Play something nice and violent.”

He nodded against her side then trudged into his room. Emma pursed her lips.

Fuck it. She was snooping on his computer. Henry was upset by whatever the hell was wrong with him and she was done being the mature adult. Ten points from Gryffindor - maybe she’d always belonged in Slytherin after all.

xxx

All Emma got out of snooping through Killian’s laptop was a recipe for buttered rum and a knot of guilt in her stomach. His browser history was weeks old, like he hadn’t searched for anything; she even tried all the tricks she knew to find hidden tracks on a laptop - he’d really done nothing on it since before they’d moved to Boston and that included working on the new book.

Maybe his odd behavior really was as simple as an intense case of writer’s block. Maybe he was afraid to tell her, because they’d gotten this fancy apartment and with the bail bonds trade usually drying up a bit after the holidays, they’d be counting on his advance once he delivered his publisher the detailed synopsis.

Abandoning her shitty, mistrustful wife plan, Emma headed back to the kitchen (it was possible she’d left the ice cream out to melt) but stopped when she heard not the sounds of violent bloody gore, but quiet voices coming from Henry’s bedroom.

“It’s fine,” Henry was saying in a tone that clearly indicated it was anything but.

“It’s really not,” Killian said and Emma leaned against the wall that kept her out of their line of sight but made eavesdropping on Henry’s room much easier. Hey, the view wasn’t the only reason she’d been eager for this apartment.

“I just… I guess I thought… we were a family,” Henry said, sounding so vulnerable Emma wanted to hug him and hurt Killian a little for making him sound that way.

“Henry… lad.” Then Killian sounded just as lost, just as broken, and Emma just wanted to wrap her arms around them both. “The love I have for you and your mother outweighs all the grains of sand in this or any other realm. Never doubt that.”

“Then why did you bring him up?” Henry asked. “I don’t want to do my ancestry project about him. I can’t ask Mom, because she doesn’t know who her parents are. I know yours are gone, but you knew them at least. I still want to do my project about my family.”

Killian took a deep breath. She knew well the sound of air filling his lungs from a thousand nights falling asleep with her ear pressed to his chest, a thousand moments sat across from him as he prepared himself to say something sappy or meaningful or cheeky.

“My father’s name was Brennan and my mother’s name was Alice. They married young -- too young, it turns out. He was a bastard and she would have adored spoiling you, her first grandchild, young master Henry.”

Emma bit her lip hard to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. Her boys kept speaking to one another, Henry asking questions, then telling Killian to wait, he had to write this down, and Killian detailing as much of his history as he could - the small English village he was born into, the Jones line before him (he’d never known his grandparents and unfortunately couldn’t be of much help further back, but he did delight Henry by informing him they were rumored to be descended from the Davey Jones) and any other detail that came to mind. Emma was pretty sure he was making at least some of it up, but it was a fifth grade ancestry project and she’d punch any teacher who gave Henry less than an A for the yarn he was about to spin.

Deciding she’d had enough of this emotional roller coaster, Emma spent some time researching a skip - he was slippery and she might have to go out of town for a few days to nab him. With Killian and Henry on an even keel, she felt a lot better about the prospect.

A solid hour of research confirmed her suspicion - Travis the douchebag had fled to Rhode Island and was stupid enough to still be using his own credit cards. He had also already set up a new Tinder profile. Emma would drive the Bug to the most recent hit she had on his card and let the tight red dress on her Tinder profile do the rest of the location job for her.

She’d leave in the morning. She wanted to spend the night with her boys first.

They were still in Henry’s room, though ancestry talk had morphed into the video game Killian hated playing the least, something with knights and quests. They were spread out on Henry’s small full bed and Emma took a flying leap between them, forcing them to either dive out of the way and lose a life or accept her full weight.

Naturally they both took the hit, their characters living to fight another day.

“Oi! Swan,” Killian complained.

“Jesus, Mom,” Henry added, sounding much more parental than she ever did.

“Third controller,” she demanded.

Henry hooked the wire with his foot and launched it at her. She caught it easily and entered the game when it let her. Every time she did something Killian or Henry couldn’t, she elbowed them until Killian finally called for a mutiny. He and Henry ganged up on her, assaulting her with tickling fingers and raspberries, the game abandoned and Emma feeling lighter than she had in weeks.

xxx

“I have to go to Rhode Island tomorrow,” Emma said later that night after they’d settled into bed. Killian seemed to be keeping a little more distance between them than was customary and he was also wearing his prosthetic to bed, which he never did.

“Hmm?” Killian responded, irking her because apparently he wasn’t even listening to her.

“I’m going away tomorrow,” she repeated, turning on her side to face him. He was staring at the ceiling, the black t-shirt he wore getting in the way of her favorite pillow, his chest hair. Come to think of it, he’d been withholding her favorite pillow for awhile now. She’d been so exhausted by the move that she’d basically fallen asleep as soon as her head hit an actual pillow.

He finally turned to face her. “Where are you going?”

“Rhode Island,” she repeated. “I’ve got a hit on a skip. It’ll be a nice payday for the holidays.”

“That’s good,” he said, nodding a bit, mostly to himself, it seemed.

“I’ll be gone a few days, most likely,” she added, frowning when he just nodded again. “I’ll miss you, too,” she said sarcastically, before turning her back on him, half curling into a ball of confused anger and sadness.

“Swan,” he muttered.

“Save it,” she said. “If you’re not going to tell me the truth, I don’t want to hear it.”

Several moments passed, so many that she really thought he was going to remain silent. Then, so quietly she might have missed it if she hadn’t been listening so carefully, he spoke.

“Have you ever woken up one morning and felt like an utter fraud?” he asked.

Her frown deepened. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked. “Is this about the book?”

“I wish it were about the bloody book, Swan,” he muttered, his his breath close enough that she could feel it puffing against the bare skin of her shoulder. “Just go to sleep.”

“Killian--”

“You’re leaving in the morning, in that deathtrap of yours - I’d like you to be rested before you get on the road. It’s an icy drive this time of year.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her back against him and she rested her head against his other arm. He was still keeping her at a distance, but she could feel his concern, his affection, even through such a strange distance. Her mind replayed his declaration to Henry, the passion and conviction in his voice as he’d vowed his love for them both. He hadn’t been lying.

Why the hell would her husband think he was a fraud?

xxx

Emma debated bailing on the trip, but forcing Killian to talk when he clearly wasn’t ready to had never lead anywhere good. So she kissed him and Henry both on the forehead, made them promise to text her updates while she was gone and headed out. Killian had gotten up earlier than she had to make sure the snow chains were on the Bug’s tires and he’d filled the tank up with gas, something she routinely forgot to do until she was already on the road.

Her first night in Rhode Island, Emma logged onto her fake Tinder profile, the one that let her breasts and a tight red dress do all the advertising necessary to pick up any creep in a fifty mile radius. It only took about a hundred left swipes for her mark to pop up and she reluctantly swiped right.

Henry’s text (a picture of the breakfast Killian made him and a row of sad face emojis) interrupted her briefly; she replied that egg whites and salmon were good for a growing boy. Killian’s text (a simple “The boy’s been fed well and sent off to school; come home safe, Swan”) intensified that ache in her chest and she fired off a quick heart emoji in reply. If she started actually texting words, she was afraid word vomit would soon follow and she needed to concentrate on nabbing this dirtbag.

Her skip was laughingly easy to lure but not so seamless to capture. They scuffled outside the restaurant, Emma tackling and handcuffing the guy after a graceless fall sent them both to the icy ground. It was only after she’d handed him off to local law enforcement that she noticed how badly she scraped up her wrist. She rinsed it off in the motel bathroom, but immediately changed into traveling clothes. It was late, but there wouldn’t be traffic at this hour and she’d be home, in bed with her husband, in less than ninety minutes.

Unfortunately, being alone with her thoughts on a long drive and no case to think about meant Emma had little to do but consider Killian’s odd behavior.

When she added it all up - attempting to remind Henry they weren’t actually father and son, the guilt in his eyes, the disinterest in sex, feeling like a fraud - her stomach clenched at the most obvious conclusion: Killian was cheating on her.

Maybe it wasn’t physical. Maybe it was only one time and he didn’t know how to confess. Maybe he had fallen in love with someone else and felt guilty about wanting to leave them. Leave her. Maybe he was only staying for Henry. Maybe he just didn’t know how to tell her he’d made a mistake by marrying her, the same mistake her first foster family had made by wanting to adopt her, only to send her back when she was three.

Emma’s wrist was starting to ache as much as it stung and she worried it might be sprained on top of the scraping. Her vision was also getting blurry, which meant she was probably crying and that always pissed her off, so she used her injured hand to angrily wipe her eyes clear.

If Killian had decided she wasn’t enough, that he wanted something else - that was fine. It would hurt Henry, but they could survive. They were just fine when it was the two of them and they could be a family of two again.

Something hollow started forming in her chest at the thought of no more Killian - no more sullen hours trying to get the words right only to emerge victorious and tumble her into bed to celebrate, no more healthy breakfasts to send them off for the day with ‘vim and vigor,’ no more grown up in the house, no more feeling safe with someone, no more forgetting what it felt like to be a lonely, unwanted little ugly duckling again.

Fucking tears. She was going to get into an accident if she didn’t get a grip on her emotions, but it was impossible when it felt like her whole world was caving in on itself. Killian didn’t lie to her. If he was lying now, it meant… it had to mean something bad, given how long it had gone on, given all the other signs. She wouldn’t be able to make it another night wondering about this. As soon as she got home, she was ripping off the Band-Aid - even if it took several layers of skin with it.

She made a lot of noise coming in the front door, kicking her boots off and leaving them in a messy, wet heap just inside, the way Killian hated. She draped her coat over a chair and caught a look at herself in the mirror by the door - her makeup had run due to all the crying (waterproof my ass) and her hair was pulled back into a severe ponytail, which just made her face look even more gaunt.

“You’re home early.” Killian’s soft voice drifted from the living room and her shoulders hunched in on themselves at the sound of it. The sound of his feet encased in those warm, fuzzy socks Henry loved brought him closer. “Did you get your man?”

Emma turned to look at him and wanted to cry even harder. He was wearing a soft black sweater, one of the many new items they’d purchased for the frigid Boston weather. The dark color made his eyes look even bluer, or maybe that was all the lights she’d just noticed he and Henry must have hung up while she was gone, their whole apartment transformed into a cozy winter wonderland. Like a real family lived here. Like he was planning to stick around until Christmas.

She felt fucking crazy.

“You're hurt,” he said, eyes obviously ticking over her to figure out what was causing her mental breakdown. He moved quickly, his right hand pushing a piece of hair that had escaped her punishing ponytail back behind her ear, thumb skimming over her cheek to trace the black tear track that made it all the more obvious she’d been crying. His eyes were still moving over her face furiously and when he realized she hadn’t been punched or visibly concussed (wouldn’t be the first time) he started scanning the rest of her.

His ex-naval captain’s eagle eye narrowed in on her wrist in a snap and her hand was soon cradled between his right and his prosthetic. He made a tsking sound (chastising her for using water as a disinfectant again) and leaned forward to kiss her forehead, the way he always did when she was hurting. The tears came again but she didn’t try to fight them. He made soft shushing sounds and cradled her hand against his chest protectively, letting her cry it out for a few minutes before gently ushering her into the bathroom.

Emma sat on the sink so he wouldn’t have to crouch and Killian pulled the Neosporin out of the medicine cabinet. He used his teeth to open the bottle then curled her hand over his prosthetic to hold her still. Carefully, he applied the disinfectant, knowing how prone she was to kicking when something stung her. Once he’d gotten a good, thick layer applied, he reached for the gauze.

“Do you think it’s sprained as well?” he asked.

She nodded, unable to make her vocal cords worked and he fetched an ace bandage from the emergency room drawer as well.

“You should get an X-Ray,” he said.

“Maybe,” she agreed, her voice sounding like she’d been crying over a half broken heart for the last hour.

They both knew she wasn’t going to get an X-Ray, but she really, really loved him for worrying about her.

“This is how we met,” she said quietly as he leaned forward, using his teeth to hold one end of the gauze so his right hand could smooth it down.

His gaze snapped up to hers, a wary look in them, and her eyebrows scrunched together. “Remember? My timeless grace?”

If he didn’t even remember how they met, he wouldn’t have to leave her - she was going to kill him.

Killian blinked and nodded slowly, as if the memory was replaying in his mind. He cleared his throat before speaking. “You were carrying drinks for you and Henry. Slipped on a patch of ice. Tore your palm up.”

“You bandaged it with your scarf and tied one end with your mouth. Very ballsy for a total stranger,” she added with an affectionate nudge to his hip with her knee.

“I’m nothing if not bold,” he agreed.

“I never even saw you coming,” she confided. “All those walls and that cynicism and keeping everyone out and I never even saw you coming. I wanted to run so far and so fast from you and I still wanted to jump your bones.”

He scoffed. “You thought I was annoying. And possibly a stalker.”

“I still wanted to jump your bones,” she said. They shared a laugh, but she sobered fast. “I know I did run away after that. I know I… didn’t make it easy.”

Was that it? Was she still more difficult than she thought? Emma thought she’d gotten better at letting him in, that she’d let him all the way in, but maybe… maybe he just got tired of it. Of her. Everyone did eventually, everyone but Henry.

“Emma… I don’t like easy,” he said with that grave tone he sometimes got when he wanted to make sure she understood him. “A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. You have always been worth the fight of my life, darling. Always.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, a soft, reverent thing that made her cry again. He brought her bandaged hand to his mouth, kissed the back of it, her palm, her wrist, the patch of skin on her forearm left bare from his first aid work.

“Do… do I need to fight for you?” she asked, the quiet, scared question nothing like the rage she’d planned to unleash on him during her drive. Funny how Killian being Killian could disarm her in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, luv,” Killian muttered, pressing his forehead to hers. “I have been yours from the moment we met. It just took me a little while to realize it. You’ve done nothing wrong, Emma. I’m sorry. I know I’ve been… I’ll be better.”

“I don’t need you to be better. I need you to be you. I need you to want to be here.”

“I do,” he vowed and that was exactly what it was: a vow. “There is nowhere else for me but by your side, Swan.”

“You’re confusing me,” she whispered, like it was a secret.

“I’m confusing me,” he assured her. “Please just… give me a little time? To figure a few things out?”

Emma sighed. It wasn’t the resolution she wanted, but she felt oddly lighter. They hadn’t talked about anything specific, but already her earlier fears felt ridiculous. Most of them, anyway. At least he wasn’t pretending things were fine - he’d given her months of space to realize she was in love with him in the beginning. She could give him a few weeks now, to figure out whatever was going on in that ridiculously attractive head of his.

“You’ve got four weeks ‘til Christmas,” she grumbled. “I want my husband front and center by then, got it, buddy?”

So she wasn’t nearly as patient or understanding as he was. He knew what he was getting into.

His grin at her words indicated that he did and that he still found her rather charming.

She could live with that. For now.

#csss #cssecretsanta2k18 #@cssecretsanta2k18 #captain swan #my fic stuff #cs fic #how long will i love you #MERRY CHRISTMAS

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