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the-firebird69 · 1 year ago

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We hear the story again and it sounds real and the guys tell him the cops and doesn't believe himself and he says that's really what's happening and the guy say he won't leave when you're there so you can't go out there with bait the guy runs like 50 miles an hour so they went around a little and then they said wow there's a bunch of them over there so they got him out of there and they had a bunch of people and he ran over to his crew and it was the crocodile and he stayed there it's not really Gator it was fat in the face and he was eating chicken. McDonald's happy and said wow it's an aggressive monster so he just thrashed someone I think it was bja and people are blaming each other I need to scan those guys so they went ahead and scanned them they're fine and they're looking around and they see weird people you scared them and they're not fine and they're finding these computer people and we're watching the account and people are trying and we have to go after them and it's a way of lighting it up and it needed to be and he was mentioning it inherent is the one who acted but went to her cadre first and they knew it needed to be left because he stopped doing it now it's going on and people are after it and they are getting hauled in there's a lot of them too probably cause a war up there again

As of now his cards is active and there is a code about it and it bring up a subject in his guys is Trump actually figured it out which is rare but it might be Terry cheesman he does a lot of work with that and his tough stuff okay it's not as late until it sounds and her son comes up with four or five different ones before he announces what he thinks it is and he goes to the same thing. It takes time energy and a lot of distractions around here and Trump can't help it a long time she's been injured and he wants to be helpful and he is getting wronged Dave didn't like him he hated him for what he's doing to his children and our son doesn't like it because but he's talking about his brother is it dangerous person and the sky captains of tomorrow might be an opportunity it might be his robots and the robot theft might be by him too he's blaming everybody and everyone's fighting each other so we're watching and we know what to do right now there's going to be a major offensive and unfortunately it's on Trump and others who cannot control themselves and that was found to be part of it and the second reason is they can't control themselves in the first place. People need the territory and they need the stuff and what you're doing is bumbling and fumbling with stuff and they think it's Tommy f and we think it's him too meaning as well and there's a couple of them who are major major problems and they're doing disgusting things to people and he's one of them. They found stan doing it and Biden does things but it's not as cruel usually he's fixing people and it's very odd okay he's helping people most of the time and you don't know it he does not like the clones they put him into the brass sculpture and showed up to gloat about it and it was Charlie Quinn. And his grandson is a witness he wants to take the a****** to court not his grandson no he means his grandson is a witness and he likes other things working out in Utah and our son knew it but forgot about it. He paid his credit card with a money order and he does it every month and he said oh I forgot I did this I found a note and she said okay he said I did have two charges on my cell phone and she saw there too but he says I'll have to go back to straight talk and take them to court and she said okay but you can try and reopen it and such but really people have to get out of this she was aware that was going to be a call and they were bothering him about it and they're trying to threaten with this concept and now there's a bunch of them thinking that it's a setup because people are going after their money and it is a setup and he was warning them not to do it and Dan is the one who initialized it and she's mad cuz it didn't come from him and he's the one that turned on thinking about the account but we know it's Trump and he was having to do it but we really are trying to light it up as well but these guys are the ones who are right there so we're laying it up with the people who are the problem and that's an issue. There are robotic people trying to do it but they don't get close and these people say they push to do it and they are but it's my circumstance it's not them pinpointing the issue and we know it so these people are being watched these trumps and they're doing because they're being threatened with a global war against them so they're coming up in the threatening us when we say is we can't help you all your people are deciding to go after you and they may decide to all go after us it's just the way they are and as a matter of fact it's probably analogous to us in some point in time so it's worse than what it looks and then they are trying to bother his account and we are messing up them and we're going to fix the straight talk I need some other things to fix too and as a matter of fact that's money that we need to get to him and it will help us and we'll be preempting.

This is not a good time for you people to do this to him and try and do things to his account and she put it right and put it back and closed it and people witnessed it because they're making her do it and they're trying to mess with it and she saw it and they're all trying and they're being blocked and we're playing with the computers you had mentioned that we are having trouble with and we strained it out so go after people to do.

It's really not a good time to do this or to attempt it really it's never a good time but right now you're being creamed and is excuses to hate you and people want to hit you because they want your stuff and money and it's happened to you before and you don't seem to understand it and your trumpsters a week for this and it's very annoying it's trying our patients right now there's about 700 million of you dying an hour in every city area huge numbers of you are dead and it's from ebike stuff giant numbers of ebikes are recovered that would not be used tons of them are mid-engine and people noted that they're faster. 50% of them were owned by corky and the total number of dead from this ebike stuff is about 100,000 trillion and 25% are Max 20% miscellaneous and 5% are their own and we're not in there and we don't have one of our bikes in your possession and we're not missing anybody and we were using a bikes and we stopped using them and we we did not buy anymore and the bikes went away somehow people saw tons of people getting hit and it's because they have the battery in there and people want the battery. My son and daughter for the warning up not to get them or electric cars that they're trying to take the damn thing and it's all he has there's a huge warning out right now and we're going to post because it's important

Thor Freya

We had to put warnings out already but you're in some sort of panic so we put more warnings out for hours not to buy them and we did not and these guys bought tons and unfortunately they do a lot of the work it is slaughter out there over the stupid battery pack and the little the pack you have that doesn't make a huge explosion but they mix it with plastic and when you do it makes a giant explosion it would blow up that apartment complex that God lives in the whole thing would be gone from One battery pack and about 10 lb of plastic you have to combine them correct and we're putting it out there because we need to look out for this stuff

Frank Castle hardcastle

Thank you very much

Duke nukem Blockbuster and we're on it of course and I'm not doing the burping he is he's not serious but it is a pain

Olympus

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years ago

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Do you think you could write a piece about Harry and y/n having sex but she’s like really short and Harry is like throwing her around and just manhandling her and fucking destroying her guts but also make kinda fluffy pls😔👉👈

Welcome Home

Anonymous Said: Hi I’ve discovered this blog recently and can I please just take a moment to say Wow... you’re writing is amazing and your ideas and concepts are brilliant. I’m not sure if your taking requests or concepts but here’s an idea. SNL pilot Harry like with the grey hair and all coming home to his wife who misses him dearly after awhile followed by you know what. And if you could include size kink (I really liked that concept)

A/N: I’m so sorry it’s so late guys! Since I’ve been writing for a year now, I figured that I’d give an ‘Au’ a try. When I got this request, I was completely floored. Like holy shit, sexy ass older pilot!Harry, and small!Y/n. All of this is perfection and I love this so much! Enjoy🙃

4.7k words

Harry loved his job. He considered himself to be pretty lucky to have the ability to travel the world and see places he’d only dreamt of growing up. Even though he wasn’t in those places for an extended amount of time, simply being there was more than enough for Harry and it made him want to go back and explore. If he was lucky, he’d have multiple flights to the same place or longer layover in these But what Harry loved most about his job was the fact that he got to do it all with the love of his life.

When you two first met, Harry’d been a pilot for some years and you were just hired for your job as a flight attendant. You knew that it wasn’t the most glamorous profession int the world, but you wanted to dip your toes into the pool of world travel, and this was the route you were taking to start. Before your first flight you’d asked around about the pilots for your flight and you were met with the same response each time. Everyone said that Harry was one of the nicest people in the world and was pretty good looking too, but his copilot was the person you were advised to try your best to avoid. Luckily, you only had to interact with Harry. Both you and Harry hated to say it and be all cliché, but from the moment you two laid eyes on and interacted with each other you both were hooked. Even though the both of you could’ve really used the entirety of your breaks to get some sleep, you and Harry couldn’t stop talking to each other. From that point on, the two of you became inseparable. During layovers that were more than just a couple hours and Harry had some spare time outside of his duties as pilot, the two of you would spend time together. You two were so caught up in each other and being together that you’d swap flights and breaks with the other flight attendants so that you and Harry could be together. And Harry did the same. He’d always put in a word with the people who made the schedules to ensure that he was flying the flights you were on or he’d try to get you on his flights.

After constantly being on flights together and even running into each other during your times off, you and Harry were pretty convinced that you two should give a relationship a try. Even though there was a significant risk involved with starting a relationship with someone who was pretty much your boss and/or employee, you and Harry were willing to take that risk. And you two never looked back. In fact, disclosing you guys’ relationship made things way easier for you and Harry; you two were almost always on the same flights together. Now, you two are happily married and traveling the world together about 99% of the time. You both absolutely hated when the 1% times came around. You two became so used to being on the same flights that when you weren’t, you and Harry were a bit sad and even a little homesick believe it or not. This time unfortunately was Harry’s turn to fly without you. There wasn’t a moment on his trip that Harry didn’t miss you. He was focused on his job but he was still thinking about you. He was constantly wondering about what you were doing at home. When he took his break he just laid there and the cuddles and kisses he’d get if you were there with him. He also missed listening to your passenger horror stories and pushing you to just keep going. And on top of all that, Harry missed all the times you two would try to quietly go at it in the bathroom or crew resting area depending on whether or not you two were the only ones on break. Even though he was able to talk to you during his layover, he was counting the days and eventually hours until he came back home to you. As soon as he landed on the tarmac at the airport, Harry was on a mission to get home. After following all the necessary after flight procedure and filling out all of the necessary paperwork, Harry threw his bag into his car and sped home to you.

Surprisingly, Harry was able to get home and not get a ticket. He quickly pulls into the driveway and carries himself and his bag into the house. When he walks through the front door, Harry could immediately feel your presence. He could feel your warmth radiating through the entire house. All he had to do now as find you. Before checking upstairs, he makes his way around the main level of the house to look for you. As he exits the kitchen and makes his way down the hall, Harry could hear your soft hums getting louder and louder. When he reaches the laundry room, he sees you standing at the folding in the corner. Simply seeing you bought a big smile to his face. He then wastes no time coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your smaller body.

“Honey I’m home.” Harry happily coos in your ear before pressing a soft kiss below it. When he does this, you turn around in his arms to get a better look at him.

“Welcome home.” You whisper back to him, lifting yourself up onto your tips of your toes to bring your lips to his. As soon as your lips connect, the both of you release sighs of content. You two were back together. It doesn’t take long for Harry’s arms to tighten around your body and hoist you up onto the table behind you. The kiss lasts a little longer before you pull away from his lips.

“How was your long haul without me?” You hum, sliding your hands up the lapels of his jacket.

“It was hell.” Harry says pointedly.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Was thinking about you the whole time.” Harry frowns a little at you to emphasize his point.

“I missed you too baby.” You coo softly to him. You then reach up and pull the captains hat off of his head, sitting it down next to you before pushing your hands through his greying curls. When you two first met, he had some grey hairs here and there. But now they had taken over just about all of his head; and you were very into it. “Any annoying kids or weird old ladies?” You ask him.

“For the kids, I wouldn’t know. I like to stay in the front of the plane or the crew area.” Harry begins truthfully. “But as for the old ladies, they always want to break off a piece of this.” He continues smugly.

“Why would they want you? Do they wanna swap arthritis creams or something?” You joke with a laugh, watching his face fall in the process.

“I will have you know that I’m considered a silver fox. And you know it.” Harry defends, slightly tilting his head up away from you. When he says this all you could do was pucker your lips and bite the inside of them because what he said was in fact true. You just couldn’t let him know that. “Now what’d you get into while I was gone?” Harry asks curiously with a smirk from his previous victory.

“Did some stuff around the house and I did a little missing you retail therapy.” You reply happily.

“So I take it that the credit card bill this month is gonna be a little higher than normal?” Harry asks suspiciously.

“Just a little.” You whisper trying to undermine your shopping spree.

“A little?” Harry asks you again, already knowing that you’re undermining how much you actually spent.

“Mhm.” You mumble, nodding your head sweetly in the process.

“You’re too cute and pretty for your own good.” Harry chuckles and shakes his head down at you.

“You love it though.” You hum happily up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I do.” Harry sighs contently. This is what he missed. He missed being in your arms and just loving on you. He loved seeing your smile and feeing your small arms wrap around him. “I actually bought you a couple things.” Harry whispers, tightening his grip around your back.

“Is it more skimpy lingerie?” You question him, making sure to spread a wide smirk across your face. Instead of readily replying to you, Harry simply unwraps one of his arms from around your back and he brings it up to the front of your dress. Since the front of your dress was loosely wrapped around your body to keep it closed, Harry as able to simply pluck back the top a little to get a good look at your body beneath the fabric.

“Well I guess this is my cue to stop buying the lingerie, since you’re not even wearing it.” Harry points out, looking down into your dress to find your bare, supple breasts resting on your chest. It took a lot of self control for Harry in that moment to not stick his hand down your dress to take your plushy flesh into his hand.

“Well I thought it was for our sexy times or when I send you pictures while you’re on a trip and on your break or stuck in a hotel room without me.” You explain to him. You even throw in a little pout; you wanted to keep your fancy and very pretty lingerie flow going. “But I am wearing one of the pairs of panties you picked up in Italy if you wanna see how some of your purchases look on me.” You whisper lowly to him. You then use your arms that are hooked around his neck to pull his head down closer to yours. Harry was already a bit hard from finally being home with you. Now he was getting even harder from your words.

“Is it bad that I’ve only been home for 20 minuets and I’m already thinking about completely ravishing you?” Harry mumbles against your pillow soft lips. “Just so pretty baby.” Harry grumbles frustratedly before bringing his mouth the rest of the way to yours while pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He couldn’t believe that he, a man who turned 40 a couple months prior, was getting all riled up and turned on the same way he did 20 plus years ago. That was just the age defying effect you had on him.

“No, not at all.” You begin as you pull away from the short lived yet beyond passionate kiss, slowly bringing your left hand up the back of his neck to his hair. “In fact, every time I see you in your head to toe pilots get up, I’m always fighting the strong urge to fall to my knees and take your cock down my throat.” You bluntly continue, your voice filled with a very nonchalant and teasing tone.

When this statement left your mouth, Harry was a little bit taken aback. But at the same time he wasn’t. After slowly building up your friendship that in no time blossomed into a more romantic relationship together, Harry was able to slowly show you the ropes so to speak and teach you just about everything you knew when it came to the bedroom and a happy and healthy relationship. When you two progressed to the more intimate stage of your budding relationship, you were pretty inexperienced. You didn’t know your way around the bedroom at all. You we’re still a virgin and you didn’t even know the ins and outs of making out with someone. All you knew was that this smart, extremely kind, absolutely gorgeous, and just overall stunning human being, older man who just so happened to be the pilot on your flight had taken a strong interest in you. And luckily for you, your lack of experience was the least of his concerns. It was like you hit the jackpot with him. Fast forward to now when you two are a married couple, you’ve taken all of the tips and tricks he’s taught over time and you’re running with it. Harry wasn’t the only who had the ability to do things to your body that would make your toes to curl, your entire body to go numb, and cause your mind to deem it all indescribable. You also had the ability to turn Harry into a pleasured, borderline incoherent, and moaning mess; something that most women in his past who were his age or slightly older weren’t even able to do. So it wasn’t a complete surprise that those words came from your mouth.

“Who knew that my pretty little wife had such a filthy mouth.” Harry gasps with a condescending tone.

“Well I’m not a prudish old man like you.” You simply reply. This was the button in Harry that you loved to push.

“I don’t know where you’re getting that from but I’m far from prudish and I’m definitely not an old man.” Harry says matter of factly. “If I remember it correctly, I made you wear vibrating panties for the entirety of an 18 hour flight.” Harry recalls, making his point against being called prudish.

“Everyone uses those. Especially older men.” You smugly whisper back, pushing even harder on this button of his.

Harry knew exactly what you were doing. He knew that you were pushing his button so that he’d unleash everything he had built up over the course of his trip into you. It didn’t take much for him to realize that you wanted him to really make up for not being with you for almost a week. The both of you were itching to feel and be around each other again. After you and Harry made it past the learning and teaching phase of you guys’ sex life, the two of you acquired a constant hunger for one another. When you and Harry had some time off, the sex would be nonstop. Whether it was cockwarming or full on sex where you’re riding his cock or he was slamming himself deep into your pussy, you and Harry were always looking for ways to be around each other like this. And it was exactly the same when you two were on the job. Even though you two didn’t have the freedom to go at it whenever you wanted, you and Harry still found ways to be with each other. For some reason, seeing each other dressed in your uniforms was a bit of a turn on. It didn’t help that the both of you were borderline thrill seekers and loved the rush that came along with trying to be quiet as you both were experiencing some of the best pleasure you’d ever felt.

“Well do all older men pound and shove their cocks into their girlfriends, and now wives tight little cunts over and over again until she’s begging and crying for him to slow down and let them cum? Because if not, I’ve got countless stories about me doing that to you in the cramped bathroom on a flight, in restaurant bathrooms, dressing rooms, upstairs, on the couch, the kitchen counter, right here on this table, and many other places.” Even though you acted confident and enjoyed battling Harry for dominance, you were able to easily fall into a more submissive role. The way he’s calmly able to say the filthiest things made your body quake and your panties become even more soaked than they already were. You were never going to be able to forget about all of those times. How and why would you ever forget the times where he’s hoisted you up against a door or a wall, or pushed you down against the counter, tightly wrapped a hand around your mouth to keep you quiet, and deliciously slammed his cock up into you? If you focused in on those memories, you could remember and almost feel him inside you.

That’s what you wanted right now. You wanted him to pound into you so hard that you’d a sore, moaning mess and you wanted to make up for the time you two weren’t together. This was the first time in a good while that you weren’t scheduled for a flight with Harry and you really missed him. And his cock. So if you had to push one of his buttons to really get what you both wanted, you were going to do it.

“Well I think you guys can do that,” You begin, pausing to run your hands down from his neck and across the expanse of his broad shoulders. “I just think that you may need a little help if you know what I mean.” You finish. When you say this, Harry knows exactly what you were implying and he wasn’t having any of it.

“You and this pretty little body of yours is gonna get it.” Harry growls before yanking you up from the table and pulling you into his body. He quietly marches you both up the stairs and to your shared bedroom. When he reaches the foot of the bed, he releases his once tight grip on your body and drops you down onto the bed. He continues to go about everything silently, shoving his jacket off of his shoulders and working on his tie and shirt.

“You look really hot in that uniform just so you know.” You admire from the bed below him. You watch him chuckle at your statement as he shrugs his shirt and undone tie off his body. You were really turned on right now. Like the sight of his bare, toned and tattooed chest and arms was a sight you could stare at forever. Add onto that the fact that he was mad and taking control over you and you were setup to be a complete mess. And your panties could definitely attest to that. You were completely drenched and dying to feel him against and inside you.

“You don’t have to butter me up baby.” Harry begins as he undoes his shoes. “M’still gonna take care of you and that smart mouth of yours.” Harry guarantees, shoving his shoes and socks off his feet and standing back up to work on his pants. “Gonna make sure you know what I can do to you.” Harry finishes, finally undoing his belt and shoving his pants along with his boxers down his legs. When you see his thick and very hard cock, you couldn’t stop a moan or two from escaping your mouth. “I take it someone needs my cock.” Harry chuckles at your desperation for his cock. He planned on showing you just how much you needed him. He then comes closer to the edge of the bed and in one swift motion, Harry pulls you up from your lying position and flips you onto your front. He masterfully undoes the tie on the back of your dress and he flips you back onto your back. He tugs at the fabric, opening your dress and exposing your partially naked body to him. He takes a moment to admire your body and all he could do is bite his lip. He couldn’t believe that he managed to be away from this for nearly an entire week.

Harry quickly snaps out of his trance when he feels his cock twitch slightly and he leans down to scoop you up into his arms. When he does this, Harry keeps you low in his grip so that you’d be right against his cock. He keeps one arm securely around your body and pulls your arms from the dress. Once it’s completely off of you, he drops it into the pile of his clothes and drops you back onto the bed. Before crawling up and on top of you, Harry uses your claves to push you a little higher up onto the bed and to flip you back onto your stomach. When he does this, you really know you’re in for it. Whenever you were in this position Harry really made sure to slam into you and make you scream. When he crawls up and is on top of you from behind, he wastes no time in ripping the barely there panties off your body. For the first time in what felt like forever, Harry didn’t snap the delicate undergarment in half. Once they’re out of the way, Harry has complete access to your body.

“Gonna be a good girl and take daddy’s cock?” Harry asks, squeezing the flesh of your ass before raising it up just to crash it back down.

“Mhm.” You whimper, really feeling the sting from the sudden slap.

“Use your words.” Harry demands, raising his hand back up to deliver another slap to your backside.

“Yes daddy.” You cry out to him, this time feeling not only the sting of his slaps but also feeling of your juices dripping onto the sheets.

“Good girl.” Harry hums at your response. He then straddles your thighs, wanting to keep you in place when he pushes into you. He lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you, and he grips onto his cock to give himself a good squeeze, resulting in him letting out a loud grumble behind you (that went straight to your clit). He tightly grips onto the flesh of one of your cheeks and he pulls your ass apart to get a better view of you. When he sees your puckered hole, Harry gets a little idea. In the process of lining himself up with your entrance, Harry uses his cock to put a little pressure on your tighter hole. When he does this, words begin to pour out of your mouth.

“M’too tight daddy.” You rush out to him, trying to stop his actions. Harry knew that you were too tight for him at the moment, but he just liked to work you up a little and hear you beg.

“Don’t worry baby. When were done, daddy’s gonna get you nice and ready for his cock.” He promises, lowering his cock from your second hole down to the first. When you feel his thick head nudging at your entrance, your moans got louder. You needed him to be inside you already.

“Want your big cock daddy.” You beg. You try to move back against him but he’s practically sitting on your thighs, which is pinning you to the bed.

“Whats the magic word?” Harry teases.

“Please daddy?” And with that, Harry is finally sinking his cock into you. When you feel his cock stretching you to fit all of him, your mind goes blank. All you could come up with was strings of loud moans and feeling good. You felt full agains which was all you really wanted. As he continues to sheath his cock with your walls, Harry’s hand leaves his shaft and goes right to your other cheek. He pulls your ass completely apart and watches as his cock disappears into you.

“That’s it, take this cock sweetheart.” Harry pants in amazement. He was still in awe at how a small woman like you was able to take every last inch of his manhood. Once he’s fully inside, Harry’s eyes trail up your body to find you resting your cheek against the sheets with your mouth wide open. Thats what he wanted to see. Keeping his hands on your ass, Harry lifts himself up so that he’s hovering over you and goes straight into slamming in and out of your tight and very wet pussy. As he does this, your entire body quakes at the amazing sensation of him fucking you. Feeling him pound into your stomach as he called you his sweet girl and his pretty little wife was beyond extraordinary. You could feel the familiar tight and warm knot beginning to form in the pit of your stomach already.

As Harry fucks into you, he’s beyond turned on. The way you’re pinned below him as he shoves his cock deep into you along with you pitifully whimpering, moaning, and crying at how good he felt was really doing things to Harry. He never wanted to be away from you ever again. He wanted to feel you every single day.

After fucking into you from behind for a good while and feeling the tight burning sensation forming in the pit of his stomach as well, Harry figures that he’s going to cum soon and he wants to watch your face twist as he does. He then proceeds to stop thrusting all together and pull out of you, which causes you to grumble, resulting in you receiving a hard “shut up” slap to your ass. He then gets lifts himself off of you and flips tugs you onto your back. He knocks your legs apart and gets in between them before slamming his cock back into you.

“Like this baby. Like it when daddy takes control of this tight little cunt of yours?” He pants, continuing to slam his his cock into you. You were too caught up in how good he was making you feel that you couldn’t even form a worded response. All you could do was thrash your head against the bed in agreement. When he sees this, a very wide smirk rises to his face. This is exactly what he missed and wanted to see. You taking all of his cock while you’re quivering and barely holding on. As he continues, Harry can feel the warmth from the pit of his stomach spreading to his entire body, signifying to him that his release was getting extremely close. Judging by the way your once tight grip on the sheets has gone loose, your pitiful whimpers, and the way you’re tightening up around him you’re feeling the exact same way. To make you cum around his cock, with him following right behind you Harry only has to do two things. First, he brings his palm to your lower stomach and presses it into you; putting pressure on the warm knot that was about to explode and allowing him to feel his cock moving inside you. He then comes down, bringing his mouth to your ear to whisper one thing into your ear. “Not too bad for an old man right?” Harry hums patronizingly into your ear. He wanted you to eat your words. And you were. His words, the pressure from his hand, and his cock causes you to burst at the seams around him. You let out a mixture of gasps and whimpers as you completely let go around Harry’s cock. When he feels your walls contracting around him, Harry lets go as well. He releases every last drop of the sexual frustration he’d been carrying around all week; and it felt so good. He loved painting your walls with his cum.

Once the both of you are done and it’s safe to pull out, Harry’s slowly pulls his sopping wet cock from your cunt and collapses onto the bed next to you.

“Harry, I can’t feel my legs.” You whimper after a couple minuets of silence.

“M’surprised you’re not used to it by now.” Harry hums smugly. Once he says this, a temporary lull fell over you two. You and Harry were very anxious to go at it again, but you two were holding off to see who would initiate round two.

“Did you take something before you came in the house?” You whisper over to him, deciding that you needed to be the one to initiate round two.

“Do I need to come over there and shove my cock down that pretty throat of yours for you to get the point?” Harry chuckles at your persistence.

“Only if you want to.” You whisper sweetly.

“Oh I want to, and don’t you doubt that.” Harry says matter of factly.

“Well can we cuddle first? Haven’t cuddled since the night before you left.”

“Anything you want.” Harry coos before moving closer to your limp body.

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quitethepirategal · 3 years ago

Text

An Analysis in Threes

❥ TAGGED BY: @emcads like 30 years ago ❥ TAGGING: @riidcr @starsailingcaptain @covencrown @hookd @all-fleshed-out @evermxre @motherofredemption @bup1957 @conquistadoradelmar @seaprofound @tcthinecwnself @withinycu @windguided @daevilhorns @concordia-cum-sinistro and YOU and I spent like 8 hours on this so pLEASE READ IT PLEASE I AM BEGGING I NEED VALIDATION I’M-

repost don’t reblog. yall dont have to type this much.

MUSE: Captain Red Handed Jessica

Three Strengths:

Her adaptability and resourcefulness. Is she brave, yes. Is she lucky, also yes. But over all, she can roll with the cards she’s been dealt in a way that many would call inhumanly clever. Her intelligence, her perception, and her charisma are all different ingredients of this indomitable characteristic of hers. She can see the value in just about anything and anyone, can pick up on clues and tangents few others can follow, and can remember seemingly endless details, tho unfortunately not on command. But even then, her patchy memory seems to contribute to this adaptability as well, as it usually allows for detachment. If she can find resources everywhere, it means she can survive everywhere. There have been countless times where the wheel of fortune has suddenly turned on her and she’d lost near everything and her response was more or less Damn, ok I need food water and shelter lets go. No food? Grow food. No water? Ask someone if they have water. No shelter? Sleep outside. No money? Steal money. Can’t hear anymore? Cool I can use loud weapons. Crashed on an island? My island now. Shot? Free bullet. She knows when to push, she knows when to quit, and sometimes she knows when to gamble based on her ability ( what a man can do and what he can’t do and all that ). Strong she may be, she knows its foolish to rely on strength. Survival of the fittest actually rarely means survival of the strongest. ( edit; this is the theme for the entirety of her character. I will say it 50,000 times. I am very sorry ). And as a student of philosophy and biology, she understands that phrase better than most. Leading to our next point.

Her understanding. As I stated, her charisma is something unmatched, and is a key element in all three of her strengths. This charisma might not exist as prominently were it not for her ability to understand. She has limited ( I’ll get back to that ) but deep running empathy and while not terribly observant all the time, she is always perceptive. Not only that, but she’s personally known abuse, hardship, and uncertainty, and understands that hate or anger can be rooted in similar pain. She was schooled lightly in both Christian and Buddhist values before diving heavily into democratic philosophy, meaning she believes all being experience suffering and therefore kindness is a powerful sign of strength, but also that suffering while free and equal is better than comfort in oppression. And between her sweet words and beautiful face, she can get most people to open up in ways they themselves my not have expected. Being very good with people means she can learn from them, gain something from them, lead them, and/or use them. But Jessica isn’t a manipulator in truth; her intentions are almost always kind or healthy ones. She absolutely uses people from time to time but not EVER without them consenting to or being made aware of such because again, unlike a manipulative person, she understands that can ruin a relationship and therefore ruin a resource. What it makes for is an excellent leader, a beloved captain, and a trusted ally at most and an excellent conversationalist at the least. But her understanding isn’t just social, oh no. It’s academic as well. Armed only with his little library and the lessons of his own teachers, Jessica’s foster father tirelessly smithed her into a not just a girl who knew a lot of things, but a truly intelligent, thinking mind. He’d die before learning he’d succeeded tenfold. Jessica isn’t one to just except things as they are, facts or otherwise. She usually needs to prove it, experiment, see things from a new angle. Debates with her are fun! She has no issue admitting she’s wrong or confessing she’s never thought of it that way, and is actually wrong a lot of the time. It doesn’t bruise her ego, it excites her. It means there’s more to learn. And her ability to constantly understand new concepts paired with her ability to overwhelmingly understand people combine to make for a very powerful core idea of hers: We are fittest to survive because we all fit together. Our humanity, our empathy, our community are our strengths because they keep us united, which keeps us the fittest. No one is independent, no man is an island. People are power. And thus her final strength is just that.

Her power. While she and I still firmly state that strength isn’t everything don’t be disillusioned; its very goddamn important. And it’s something Jessica has plenty of. She is durable and clever because of her rocky early childhood, she is quick and versatile from her youth in a pirate port, she is physically strong and mighty from her years training in martial arts, and she’s an absolute crackshot after years of diligent practice with her trusty pistols. Her true strength may lie in her brains and in her allies yes, but even without them, Red Jessica is a powerhouse of a warrior. She can end fights extremely quickly or run from them without a prayer of catching her ( no shame in the later, both skills keep you alive ). And it may be in bad taste to say, but ever since loosing most of her hearing, Jess swears up and down it’s made her vision better, her reaction time faster, and her quick thinking even quicker. Yes of course she’s slowed down with age, but a bullet shoots at the same speed no matter how old you are. And you best hope she didn’t bring her firecrackers, because while sudden loud noises will absolutely temporarily discombobulate or debilitate an opponent with healthy hearing, it’ll hardly effect her at all and suddenly, you’re a sitting duck. You see those thighs? You see those calves? She can crush PINEAPPLES with them! People have seen her do it! Do you know how many micro-fractures broke and rebuilt those hands? Thousands! She can crush a trachea like a fucking beer can! She can kick you to death! One ill placed curb stomp and you are DECEASED. Sometimes she’ll just psyche you out because she KNOWS you know she can kill your stupid ass! But while her strength, mental and physical, have always been there, her power is relatively new. As stated before, people are power. Not knowledge, not money, not strength. People. She’s a fearsome warrior but she’d be useless if outnumbered. Shes a very successful pirate, but she’d never make it out of port without a crew on her ship. She found a gorgeous island, but it’d still be wild without those who built it’s piers and buildings. She manages orchards and tends to them and harvests them herself, but she would loose all of her crop without the helping hands of her employed farmers. And like I mentioned, she deeply understands this. Freedom is not independence or vice versa. Did you make the clothes on your back or the fabric that made those clothes? Did you write the books you read to make you smarter or teach you that skill? Did you plant the seed years ago that grew that orange you’re eating? No, of course not. Jessica didn’t either. Another human did. We all need each other to fill the holes in our lives that we can’t fill ourselves. Humans are puzzle pieces in that way, there is no bigger picture or prayer for survival on our own. And because of this, we can do anything we as a community, as a SPECIES work together to achieve. There is no knowledge if there’s no one to learn from, there is no money if a society don’t give it value, your money is worthless if those you’re paying decide to rise against you, your role as leader only exists at the consent of those you lead, and your strength won’t save you from a sinking ship. People are, and always will be, power. And as someone who is exceptionally strong and exceedingly smart, Jessica has slotted herself in the humanity puzzle thusly: The strong exist to protect the weak, the smart exist to educate, and the lucky exist so the unlucky may be given aid. And it is with this fairness and compassion that she has won the trust of so many. She has a great many friends and allies even outside of those in her crew or on her island. And she can make many more with ease. That kind of power is not a power to be trifled with, even if she can kick your ass six ways to Saturday without it.

Three Weaknesses:

She suffers ADHD. Now before ANY OF Y’ALL SAY ANYTHING, I myself also suffer ADHD. And yes I do say suffer because well that’s what it causes for Jessica and I, suffering. Yes, it is ableist language to say ‘suffering from’ rather than ‘has’ or ‘is diagnosed with’ and yes it perpetuates a stigma against us but god DAMN IT in both Jessica’s case and mine, it make life much much harder than it needs to be. At the end of the day, Red Jessica is a fantasy of mine; I pour myself into her whether I mean to or not. She’s the adult I wish I was, the person I might be if I had no anxiety, or brainfog, or lived in a world were I didn’t need a credit score or a degree. And even then, I can’t say I know anyone else’s problems better than my own. So if my character has problems, by sheer osmosis they are going to reflect some of mine. Both of the characters I write have ADHD because I have ADHD and I couldn’t even begin to know how a non-ADHD mind works to write it properly. And no, I’m not being dramatic when I say it causes me suffering. I can’t drive, I can’t hold down a job, I nearly flunked out of school, I still cant read very fast or spell very well, I am constantly overwhelmed by mundane things, I’m a slow learner, I forget very important things or recent things, I forget about things that mean the world to me, I forget about people, I stumble through tasks, I procrastinate hobbies and basic hygiene, and everything I do takes all goddamn day and I can only really do one important thing at a time and in order of importance. If I have a date at 4pm, I’m dressed and ready at 11am because I’ve gotta do the important thing first or else I will forget to do the important thing. I started typing this at a little before 5pm. It’s 7;30. It’ll probably be 10 o’clock at night by the time I fucking finish ( edit: l m a o its 1am bitch you thought ). I’m 26 and am just medicated enough to barely function. So yeah. Suffering is the word. Though for Jessica, perhaps suffering is a tad strong of a word. Her ADHD affects her ability to function in far less debilitating ways ( though whether that’s a result of a less severe diagnosis than me or the result of the society, situations, and responsibilities she functions in and around are far different from mine, who’s to say ). For her, she has very consuming hyperfixations that can last anywhere between weeks to decades, a spotty memory that is detail and memento oriented, she’s scatterbrained more often then not but can focus with amazing clarity on her interests or in high adrenaline situations, is is ABYSMALLY bad at math and EXCRUCIATINGLY bad with numbers ( as opposed to me, who is good at numbers but shit at spelling or reading ), she can forget anything no matter how important it is to her or to anyone, she’s bad with names and dates, is COMPLETELY time-blind, has trouble prioritizing, and of course, wile not actually that materialistic, she absolutely has the ol’ magpie instinct. While her poor memory assists in her adaptability and ability to move on, it also means she forgets things she needed to remember, like when the last time she bathed was and who this person is and what happened between her and someone else or what conversation’s shes had. Unfortunately this means she’s a very good friend and leader... while you’re around and interacting with her on at least a weekly basis. It’s almost a lack of object permanence in both a social and very real sense. If something is not right in front of her, odds are she’s not going to think about it. And while its something she constantly kicks herself for and actively tries to be better about, it applies to people too. Face to face is the best way to interact with her; she won’t think to write you and in her modern verse she won’t think to ever call and she’ll text you back in perhaps a few days. She doesn’t value you any less, I promise. She’s just either distracted or overwhelmed. Also, for someone as understanding as her, she is surprisingly self-centered. Not selfish, self-centered. She’ll talk about herself more than she should, and will assume people understand that she’s doing so as a form of showing empathy rather than bragging when they may not know this at all. Actually she accidentally assumes all the time. It was far worse when her hearing was functional; she’d finish your sentence for you or guess what it was you were going to say ( again, not to talk over, you but to show she understands you and the conversation, tho it usually came of as annoying or patronizing ). Sometimes she mistakenly assumes you believe or know the same things she does without even realizing it. Maybe she perceives the right idea off of someone but isn’t observant enough to notice anything past that. And while she is willing to change her mind about things, she might change her mind a tad too quickly. She’s an over-sharer and is horrible at keeping any kind of secret. Romantic relationships tend to fizzle out. Her impulse control is improving but has a VERY long way to go. She’s always chasing something new. All and all, when you’re a pirate, a librarian, or even a captain, all of these things may be irritating and inconvenient, but are overall manageable in chunks. ...But as a governor to her island, as a leader of an entire population... oof. In the position of leadership that she’s in, she can’t afford to make too many massive mistakes, and she knows this. ‘There is no power quite like the power of being underestimated’ is a phase you’ll hear her say a lot but for her, there is a shift in connotation. If people expect less and you do more that’s a great upper hand in any situation but for her, it was a safety net. Having ADHD sometimes means going months or years being fine and then eventually you fuck up and everyone around you wonders how in the world you managed to do that. She has only barely avoided disaster more times than she’d like to admit. Even with the resourcefulness, the understanding, and the power she wields, she’s finally starting to realize that she’s bit off more than she might be able to chew, with the entire well-beings and livelihoods of others on the line. And she fears that one day she’ll play her cards wrong and everything she’d built, everything she’s done, will all come crashing down in ruin.

She is Hard of Hearing. This one is literally as simple as it sounds: she has moderate and degenerative hearing loss and tinnitus after years of canons, explosions, gunshots, and a definitive, scale tipping attack in her early 30s. Her ears just don’t work at all like they used to. The whole world sounds like it would if everything was underwater: she can’t pin point the location of sounds, how far off or close sounds are, and barely registers changes in volume. And it only gets worse the older she gets; one day she won’t hear anything at all. And while yes, again, it might be very harsh and ableist to say, the truth of the matter that being deaf a “ weakness ” more often than its a strength. That said, it very well can be a strength. I’ve already mentioned that trick with the firecrackers and let me tell you it is a DAMN EFFECTIVE TRICK. Shes around explosions and canons and guns all the time and now she can focus while being around them five times better than she could in the past! But unfortunately it also means she’s very easy to sneak up on, she sometimes isn’t aware of danger until it’s nearly too late, no one can get her attention or warn her across any distance, it’s very easy to escape from her, and it’s easy for her to be just... left out of things. She might hear you talking, but she has little to no idea what you’re saying without sign or lipreading. Some people don’t have the patience or even just the courtesy to speak slower, or clearer, or repeat themselves a lot. Though, those last too thinks aren’t weaknesses of hers so much as they are the weakness of others, but they still negatively affect her self esteem and her effectiveness as a leader. All of this has taught her to pick her battles carefully, and plan around the elements of surprise and discombobulation. And while communication was tricky at first, it only got easier, and now she can talk to you almost like anyone can, so long as she’s looking you in the face.

That damn bleeding heart. We have established a number of things that should easily add up to an overly empathetic, trusting, fight-the-good-fight, martyr-some, idealistic pushover; she believes humanity and kindness are strengths, she has taken on the role of leader and then a provider, she has known suffering and tasked herself with ending the suffering of others to the best of her ability, she lacks the clarity of mind to assume people aren’t just as good or capable as her automatically, she can have poor impulse control at times, she wants to have relationships, and ( while I never stated this outright yet it can be inferred ), she believes that being able to see yourself in others is the foundation of humanity and ( as i did say outright ) humanity is what keeps us unified and unity is what makes us fit and strong. Keeping up? Good. Here’s the curve ball: How can she whole hardheartedly preach and believe all of this, to the point of it being the foundation of her character, WHILE BEING A VIOLENT THIEVING AND BLOODTHIRSTY PIRATE?! HOW, MANGO? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?! MAKE IT MAKE SENSE!! Ok, fine, sure, I will. I’m sure about one half of you are looking up from the screen and going “ Oh yeah, wow I totally forgot that bit. “ and the other half got about two and a half paragraphs in before squinting and silently calling bullshit. So let me explain. In short, she’s a detached hypocrite and is well aware and unashamed of her hypocrisy while far less aware of her detachment. I’ll cover both: Western culture as a whole seems to be under the impression that hypocrisy, despite context or importance, is automatically bad. I don’t know where this comes from personally ( my bet is Christianity but I have exactly 0 evidence ) but its a very... flawed idea. Take the freedom of speech vs racism problem; say you owned a bar where all could speak their mind freely over cold drinks. Excellent concept without context, right? Sure. ....Then a die hard racist covered in slurs and symbols walks in and orders- what are you going to do? The correct answer is to throw him out instantly. Not let him sit so long as he doesn’t cause trouble, not just ignore him and hope he doesn’t return, you throw him out. Is it hypocritical? Yep! Sure is! But it is also 100% necessary to protect your other patrons because if you don’t, the racist starts feeling safe and bringing his racist buddies, literally everyone else starts feeling unsafe and starts to hang out elsewhere, and two months later, ta da! You now own a n*zi bar and there is literally nothing you can do about it. Jessica is in a somewhat similar situation. You as a pretend bar owner need to make a decision as who to let into your bar and who to throw out for the good of all of your patrons. Jessica too is faced daily with that decision. If she want’s to help as many people as possible, the only realistic way she can do that are by protecting those under her leadership... only. She is surrounded by hateful, angry, sneaky, traitorous, abusive, or otherwise evil people. Piracy as a profession and poverty in general can do that to a person. Of course there is a clear difference between those down on their luck and desperate, and the truly cruel and twisted, but unfortunately both types of people yield the same wrongdoings. It’s absolutely her nature to extend a hand to anyone and everyone but.... she just can’t anymore. Too many times has her trust been betrayed, too many times has she gotten in peoples business trying to be helpful, only for her to absolutely bite her in the ass. Too many time the extended hand is bitten and once or twice, she’s actually made things worse. Now, she will only help someone she loves, someone under her leadership, or someone who seeks her out. That’s it. And even then, sometime it manages to bite er in the ass. But she had to set that hard limit for herself out of necessity, one she does her absolute best to adhere too and... these days she adheres a little too well. That leads us to our next point; what I was alluding to at the beginning of her Understanding essay when I said she has limited but deep running empathy. That detachment again, courtesy of a very unattached mother and unchecked ADHD. ( It isn’t a strong enough characteristic to even rank as a strength or a weakness but damn if it isn’t an undercurrent to a lot of her motivations and experiences. ) Strangers are fair game that she tries to ignore, but if she even perceives you as a threat, you could be in danger. Like anyone used to violence or perhaps anyone trapped in an us verses them mindset, she can just... flat... turn her empathy off. Not on command, she’s not a socio or psychopath persay. But she has become totally numb to the horror of violence via her warrior upbringing that, in her mind, violence can actually be rather fun. Pair that with the fact that she purposely tailored herself to only be empathetic to her allies and boom. You get a kindhearted killer. Cops and soldiers in our world do it literally every day. Actually anyone can do it really, even you if you tried. You don’t have to be evil or even angry to kill or steal or lie... you just have to believe you’re right.

Three Secrets:

WHAT SECRETS?! LMAO this bitch is the oversharing queen!! I’ve been typing and pondering her character for literal hours ( its currently 11:16, fuck you adderall ), and I still can not think of a single goddamn secret. There is nothing about her that at least five random people don’t fucking know about!! The only secrets she has are secrets she knows about other people and even then she is!! literally the worst!! She spills her guts left and right and yet she wants to be a mysterious bitch SO BAD like BABE I love you, you’re precious, but you are a dumbass attention seeking validation chasing adhd CLOWN girl!! Stop telling random people about your hermaphroditism or your dairy allergy or your dead dad or that time you fell asleep in a barrel like that is literally your uber driver Jessica honey come ooooon. I’m skipping this section mom holy fuck.

Three Fears:

What if she does wrong by everyone who trusts her? As stated at the end of the ADHD essay, she’s terrified of failing those she leads. Where it as simple as personal failure, she’d be fine. Ever if her entire world came crashing down on top of her she’d either die or start back from square one. Death is a fact of life and her adaptability means she can just dust herself off and move on, so neither her death nor her failures really scare her... But it isn’t just her life and happiness at stake, is it? Not anymore, right? What started as a leader of a small gang of rebels became a full crew, then a crew became a slew of allies, then those allies built a town and now... now she’s the governor of the Crimson Isle and there are nearly twenty five HUNDRED lives at her mercy. HER mercy. One really, really bad mistake could ruin their livelihoods or spark disorder and disloyalty. And if she died? Would whoever it is that will take her place be as good to them as she is? Is she good enough to begin with in the first place? Every day the paperwork gets a little bit thicker, every year there’s a new baby or two. And the isle has fertile soil sure but will it last? Are they prepared for a raid or a hurricane? And if Jessica trusts the wrong people, where her people right to trust her? ...can I protect them? Can I protect them?! CAN I PROTECT THEM?!

Who am I if I’m not interesting? This is, literally, an entirely subconscious fear. She’s not at all aware it exists and therefor this entry is short. But between her short time with her very unimpressed mother, her own ADHD, she is constantly hungry for attention without even realizing it. She must be interesting and intriguing and engaging, and I did mention she wants to also be mysterious. She wants not so much your input or even your validation - but rather if shes not perceived then.... is she really there? Remember, she is unaware of any of this. And fortunately she’d never been starved for attention to act out over it in the first place, even when her disinterested mother was alive. Look at her; she’s radiant, she’s beautiful, and she’s 6′4 / 195 cm shredded and covered in cool scars. Without even opening her mouth, without even her colorful clothes, she’s kind of automatically interesting. So she’s never been so desperate for attention that she acts out because she’s never been without it for very long. But it’s there. Hungry, aching, silent. Those years after the M branding were horrible and she could never really explain why. She still throws parties, organizes festivals, and talks to damn near anyone who will listen. Look at my art! Look at my library! Listen to how much I know! Let me tell you how lovely you are! Look at my scares! Look at my hair! Look at me haha, please, please look at me.

GHOSTS. NOPE. No. NO. Fuck ALL of that noise. Stay dead, go to hell, eat a dick. Red Jessica is a scientist and superstitious atheist. As an academic and somewhat bi-cultural woman she simply thinks there are far too many religions with far too much history for any of them to be considered The One True Thing You Must Believe Or ElseTM and she tends to not truly believe anything until she finds some kind of proof. Shes not afraid of the unknown, shes thrilled by it. She’s not afraid of death or the afterlife, that’s beyond her control. She’s only superstitious because she does believe in and value luck, and also its a bit of a cultural habit. BUT IF SOME SHIT STARTS MOVING ON ITS OWN OR IF SHE SEES SOME BULLSHIT IN THE CORNER OF HER EYE THEN SHE IS OUT OF THERE. OUTIE 5000. She has heard the tales of lost souls from purgatory or the eternally ravenous Pret or dangerous Phi Tai Hong or the tragic and startling Banshees or the creepy Santa Compana and she wouldn’t believe a word of it where it not for one thing. SHE FUCKING SAW ONE. She’ll never forget it, it was the first and last time she EVER attempted to plunder a tomb all Skyrim style and at first she thought it was one of the crewmean being creepy as shit until she got a good look and he was SEE THROUGH AS SHIT AND SKINNY AS FCUK AND SHE GOT LITERALLY CHASED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT JOINT. She does not CARE that some ghosts are just apparitions she does not CARE that some are friendly and trying to warn her of something if you are MOVING and DEAD at the SAME time get FUCKED. If any of y’all cringe try-hards bring a Ouija board to the party you are getting SENT HOME and BLOCKED. NO CAP.

Three Goals:

She really only has one left. Listen its... almost 1am and ive been typing since like 5pm i think i covered goals somewhere in here but ive gotta throw in the towel but even then I’m kinda being serious. Her only remaining goal is to find a suitable heir of some kind. She wants what she’s built to fall into worthey hands but she could never seem to find a good parter and even when she did she couldn’t sustain a pregnancy ( you’d think that would be a huge deal but it hardly mattered to her oddly ). So at 50 the option of having kids is out but there’s still plenty of hope for either adoption or a protege. But then again, she’s so busy these days that she hardly prioritizes it like she wants to.

holy shit i need some water...

#i.... i did it.. its done.. its DONE #...this took my entire saterday #i will literally pay yall actuall dollars to read all of this please... it took so long i dont want it to be for nothing qwq #x; EVER PLAYED CRAZY EIGHTS? { dash games }#x; QUITE THE PIRATE GAL { portrait }#x; WHY AREN'T YOU A CLEVER ONE? { meta }

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bedlamsbard · 4 years ago

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@comentter asked about the TCW series finale

Sorry if I don't remember, but did you ever talk about the last 2 episodes of TCW? I only remember the motion capture thing from the first 2 of the arc. I was annoyed at the changes to the story they previously established in the novel and Rebels (which included Rex and Ahsoka splitting up) and for some reason I can't figure out, it didn't feel like a real ending to me...

I don’t think I’ve talked about it past expressing my annoyance about using Sam Jackson!Mace and Hayden Christensen!Anakin during Ahsoka’s vision. (WHICH I AM VERY ANNOYED ABOUT.)

I don’t have particularly strong feelings about Shattered/Victory & Death -- I think they’re two of the better episodes of S7, but I think S7 is honestly the weakest of all TCW as far as theme and story arc go. They are also, unfortunately, probably the most aggravating case in S7 of throwing out previously established canon from Johnston’s Ahsoka novel and from Rebels. And like, there’s not really all that much to throw out! So you mostly have to work to do it!

(Under a cut because this got long and honestly I probably forgot stuff since I haven’t rewatched in a while.)

The big difference is, obviously, the change in location from Mandalore (I believe the novel either strongly implies or outright states it’s in the middle of the battle?) to the ship. Putting aside Filoni’s comments from SWCE a few years ago about Ahsoka teaming up with giant wolves (I think it’s extremely likely that that was wistful thinking and concept art on his part, rather than George Lucas’s actual plan), the advantage of putting Order 66 on a star destroyer in hyperspace is that it’s about as confined a space as you can get with no escape. And that works pretty well in the actual episodes -- it’s a nice callback to “Brain Invaders,” as well, though I’m not sure it was done deliberately. It also limits the number of moving parts available, so rather than having to worry about Mandalorians on both sides (and civilians...would have liked to see those in the Siege eps...that’s a different rant), all that the audience has to worry about are Ahsoka (and Rex, later on), the clones, and the wild card, Maul. Which admittedly is done very well -- like, the way the clones turn on Ahsoka? Terrifying! I don’t think they really played into the claustrophobic atmosphere of being trapped on a ship in hyperspace with no way out enough; I actually do think Brain Invaders and A Test of Strength, and even the flashback scenes in Jedi Fallen Order, did it better. (Not even ONE scene of crawling through the vents? are you even Star Wars?) On the one hand, it’s been done before, do you really have to do it again? On the other...y’all made the decision to do this.

I actually hate that Ahsoka has the ~vision of Anakin’s fall -- it’s very jarring, it makes no continuity sense (in all honesty, it’s the sort of thing I’d expect from the ST, so maybe in that context it does make continuity sense, lol), and I think to some extent that it weakens her later reaction to Vader/Anakin? Also, as I’ve said before I’m very, very aural and pretty sensitive to character voices: the decision to use Jackson!Mace and Christensen!Anakin, even with Hayden transitioning into Matt Lanter, threw me out so badly that the scene lost all emotional impact. This is a me problem. Most people I know were just happy that Hayden was getting acknowledged. Which is honestly not a great storytelling method, we want to tell the story and not acknowledge other actors. But again: this is a me problem.

I really do love the rising sense of tension from the beginning of the episode to the actual Order 66 moment. It’s just genuinely terrifying, since the audience knows what’s coming all along.

Maul -- *flips hand* I love Maul. I think these two eps did a really good job at showing how terrifying Maul can be, even without a lightsaber -- especially without a lightsaber, rather. I was a little hesitant initially about Maul being able to destroy the hyperdrive with the Force alone, but after thinking about it for a day or so (back when the ep aired, last May) I was fine with it. I think Maul’s the one character for whom that kind of sheer power is believable, going back to his TCW debut -- if you ever look at spider-Maul closely (and Sam and Dave talk about this in the commentary to that arc), you’ll notice that some of the pieces of metal on his spider body aren’t actually attached, they’re hovering nearby; he’s holding his spider body together with the Force itself.

Rex. The other big departure from canon, because of his “we all had a choice / I didn’t betray my Jedi” comments in Rebels. From a storytelling POV, this is the most dramatic possible route to go, and it makes sense that they did it. I think it was either @alexkablob or @mylordshesacactus who said back when that it works well that Rex can’t shake off the command from the chip, that none of the clones are immune to it, because otherwise it looks like none of the other clones cared as much about their Jedi as Rex did about Ahsoka. I do genuinely wonder if back in the original plan for the remaining two seasons of TCW, there was a scene where Rex had his chip removed, given that comment from Rebels. (And I’ve talked before about changes made from the ~original TCW scripts used for the Rebels backstory to the actual S7 and Mando, though admittedly in that context it was about Ahsoka.) If originally the plan was for the Order 66 sequence to take place on Mandalore, then that suggests the unlikelihood (though not impossiblity) of Rex and Ahsoka removing his chip. Given the arcs that we actually got in S7 there was no place to do it...I really do wonder what was in some of the scripts that have been talked about elsewhere but didn’t make the cut for S7.

(God, the one I actually really wanted was the Rex and Artoo’s Excellent Adventure one, I’ll be bitter about this forever.)

I assume Ahsoka and Rex split up afterwards -- the fake grave from Ahsoka was kind of weird to me, tbh, so I’m fine with them not going that way, but. *shrug* It is what it is.

The end is...fine. Like, emotional! I had an emotion! They wanted me to have an emotion! My TCW and Ahsoka feelings have been broken for a while now so my emotions definitely were not what they would have been even two or three years ago. (And I mean this by when the ep actually aired, not what my emotions are now; they haven’t really changed that much. Well, my resentment grew, but it is what it is.)

I think...I just recently saw again the comment from Filoni about this, so it’s on my mind -- one of the major problems with S7 across the board, and honestly highlighted in the finale (which, again, is great), is that according to Filoni, TCW was always about Rex and Ahsoka, so S7 had to be about Rex, then about Ahsoka, then about Rex and Ahsoka, together.

TCW is not about Rex and Ahsoka.

That’s not to say that Rex and Ahsoka aren’t main characters, because manifestly they are, but the previous six seasons of TCW are not about Rex and Ahsoka. At its core, TCW is about Anakin Skywalker, in the same way that the PT is about Anakin Skywalker (and the OT, to a different extent); TCW’s big strength compared to the films, however, has always been that it has the space to go beyond Anakin’s immediate story and deal with everything else going on in the galaxy, some of which overlaps with Anakin and some of which doesn’t. The choice to make S7 three four-episode arcs has the side effect of narrowing the universe and limiting the stories told -- S6 is, I think, only one ep longer but feels like it’s a full season, because it’s a mixed bag of arcs of varying lengths, with a number of different foci. Some of the claustrophobic feel of the focus on Rex and Ahsoka works for the finale because of the actual setting of the episodes, on the very claustrophobic ship, but on the other hand...thematically the whole season feels off because Filoni’s interests are very different from Lucas’s (and while we all love to give Filoni credit for everything in TCW, Lucas was showrunning it and all the really weird and controversial stuff in TCW, including Ahsoka, Satine, Mortis, and Maul, all came straight from George Lucas). The finale feels aggressively narrow as a result -- which on the one hand, works, because yeah, it’s kind of neat and makes sense that Rex and Ahsoka don’t know anything else about what’s going on in the larger galaxy or if anyone else is alive. On the other hand, it...doesn’t work. (For me, obvs! Your mileage will vary!)

#comentter #bedlam replies #bedlam watches tcw #tcw shattered #tcw victory and death

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sailorbellewrites · 4 years ago

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Fools Rush In... X

characters — yoongi x reader (ft. members of bts and other original characters)

summary — min yoongi, music executive and perpetual bachelor, marries a las vegas stripper he’s only known for six months. chaos ensues.

inspiration — fools rush in (1997 rom-com starring salma hayek and matthew perry)

information — a drabble series loosely based on the 1997 movie fools rush in. drabbles not posted in any linear order and written as a creative writing outlet.

warnings — mentions of sex work; age-difference; light sugar daddy themes; smut; light angst (specifically in parts V & VI).

I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI

X — photograph (ft. namjoon & taehyung)

Yoongi fucked up.

See, he never really thought of himself as a jealous person. He couldn’t be bothered to confront his ex-wife on her cheating, nor did he do anything about the men who fawned over his ex-girlfriend after her ballet performances. He was far more worried about his music career, his business ventures, and his future than he was about the other men trying to bed the women he was attached to. Hell, he hardly even thought of himself as attached to those women; but you changed that. You make the flames of jealousy engulf his heart in a way he was never prepared for and he hates himself for it.

He knows that he should just trust you more; knows that when you meet Kim Taehyung and lean into the art curator with wide eyes, you are only doing so to be polite. You are not actually attracted to the younger man, you don’t actually find his demeanor charming, and you don’t actually believe that his custom painted Birth of Venus Doc Martens are the coolest shoes you have ever seen—you are just being nice, in spite of what your words and actions portray.

Or at least, that is how Yoongi has chosen to rationalize the scene in his mind so he doesn’t go insane on the gallery floor. He almost lost it completely when you walked away with Taehyung to go view a mixed media piece more closely, but a quick reminder of all the business associates around him (former, present, and future) quickly set him straight again.

“This is hilarious,” Namjoon comments casually, slipping a glass of champagne into Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi says nothing, eyes still solely trained on the way your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around Taehyung’s bicep as you laugh at something he says. Now that it is front and center, Yoongi has never been more thankful for your insistence that he buy you a ring. “I didn’t know our Taehyung was so funny.”

“Be quiet,” Yoongi snaps back quickly, because nothing that has ever come out of Taehyung’s mouth has been that funny.

“You are the one that said she needed more frien—”

“Not men,” Yoongi cuts his friend off, “and not Kim Taehyung.”

“Sounds sexist.”

“So be it.”

“I never knew you to be a jealous person.”

“It’s Kim Taehyung.”

“And?”

“You know how he is.”

“Wow, you really are jealous.”

Yoongi can only offer up a grunt. It was hard enough for him to accept your friendship with notorious flirt Park Jimin—the Wednesday afternoon lunches still bothering him more than they should, in spite of the continuously observed innocence of them. At least Jimin was mostly harmless; the same could not be said for Taehyung. The artist’s penchant for sleeping with married women was a well known fact in their social circle. The fact that you weren’t openly disgusted by his antics only caused Yoongi more discomfort. How could you not see that he was disingenuous?

“Do you want me to send Hana in there to stop it?” Namjoon asks, but he just shakes his head. You were still uncomfortable with Namjoon’s wife and her interference would only make things worse.

Suddenly, you turn your head and point to Yoongi with a bright smile, waving quickly when you make eye contact with him. Taehyung watches the small interaction with a smirk on his face, leaning in to whisper something in your ear that has you readily agreeing.

“Here comes trouble,” Namjoon murmurs quietly, putting on a delighted face as you and Taehyung begin to make your way over. Yoongi couldn’t be bothered to fake pleasantries like Namjoon, though he did feel a small wave of calm wash over him as you thread your arm through his, leaning your head on his shoulder and whispering a small “hi” in his ear.

“Well hello again, old friends,” Taehyung starts, deep voice the very definition of cool. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding on your conversation.”

“Not at all,” Namjoon responds for them both.

“I’m actually over here to ask you a question,” he says, staring at Yoongi. You let out a small laugh in his ear, unintentionally setting off warning signals that whatever Taehyung was about to say was not going to be good.

“Let’s hear it,” Yoongi states dryly.

“Well I personally think your lovely wife would be a fantastic addition to the project I’m currently working on, but she seems to think I need to run it by you firs—”

“Correction,” You cut him off, though in a tone that is much more gentle than Yoongi thinks Taehyung should be afforded. “I told him that you would have to approve of it and that I didn’t think you would. He thinks you can be convinced.”

Yoongi shifts to look at you more clearly, a single eyebrow raising in question. The last time you properly asked him for permission to do anything was when he first gave you his American credit card; you hesitantly called him while you were at work, standing outside of the club if the background noise was anything to go by. “The straps on my favorite pair of pleasers broke… can I use your card to buy a new pair—”

“Buy whatever you want,” he responded.

“They can get kind of expensive, though.”

“Baby, I don’t even know what pleasers are. I gave you that card for a reason. Pay your rent, buy some lunch, buy the whole club if you want to.”

“I don’t want the club, I want shoes,” you had said with a laugh.

“Just shoes? Hell, buy 5 pairs. Don’t ask my permission for silly shit.” So you took that statement as law, never asking his permission for anything again—until now.

“I think we can all appreciate the female form,” Taehyung said with a slight smirk, his eyes raking up and down your body just subtly enough that Yoongi would appear crazy for commenting on it. “My new project aims to highlight the beauty of the natural female form against the destructive forces of our world—floods, wildfires, pollution, and the like.”

“Interesting,” Namjoon remarks quietly, tone even enough to appear as though he has no dog in this fight. However, they all know there is a reason Taehyung isn’t asking Namjoon’s wife to appear in such a project. “But based on our good friend’s hesitancy, there seems to be a catch. I can’t let my friends enter into bad contracts. What exactly would she be doing?” Taehyung’s smile is full blown now, eyes lighting up as he begins to describe his idea in detail; and while it takes a good three minutes for him to get through the entire concept, Yoongi only hears three things clearly: pole dancing, nude, and fire.

“Absolutely not,” Yoongi almost barks out, finding it hard to control himself at the thought of Taehyung seeing you completely nude. It didn’t matter to him that more men than he could count had seen you naked countless times before; those men weren’t Taehyung. He would rather die than let Taehyung anywhere near you nude. He barely liked him near you clothed.

“If it’s the fire you’re worried about, I promise I would keep her absolutely safe. I would never damage such beautiful art.” His words make Yoongi want to vomit. You and Namjoon laugh.

“No offense to your… art,” Yoongi states through gritted teeth. “But, I married her so that she wouldn’t dance for anyone else.” The statement wasn’t entirely untrue; while Yoongi didn’t have too much of a negative opinion on your dancing, you knew marrying him meant you had to stop. Therefore, you were confident in knowing exactly how he would react to such a request.

“Oh, well that’s unfortunate,” Taehyung murmurs specifically to you, a light frown on his face. “I was really looking forward to spending time with you on this project. I guess it’s just not in the cards for us at this moment. Perhaps another time?”

“Mm, perhaps.” You answer, a gentle smile on your face.

“Perfect. Oh, my darling I see some old friends I must say hello to. If you would excuse me,” Taehyung states with a quick bow to you before walking away.

You wait until he is out of earshot to mutter darkly, “What a creep.” Namjoon laughs out loud at your words, patting Yoongi on the back in a joyous manner.

“You have a good one.” Namjoon states. “Do you know how much he was freaking out over here?”

“I could see him.” You say, pressing a kiss to Yoongi’s cheek, causing him to grunt. “You know, you make a really funny face when you’re jealous. It’s kind of hilarious.”

“Stay away from Kim Taehyung,” he finds himself ordering.

You lean your head onto his shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours.”

#bts scenarios #bts drabbles #suga scenarios #suga drabbles #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabbles #min yoongi scenarios #min yoongi drabbles #min yoongi #suga #AU: Fools Rush In #sailor belle writes #taehyung drabbles #namjoon drabbles

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sleeplessandstubborn · 4 years ago

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Emily in Paris episode 4, or how I never got that thing about peanut butter

It's been a long time since I had revisited Miss Cooper's adventures in Paris, and many of you are over it anyway, but I was asked to go on with this so, why not? For that I had to rewatch again episode 4 and be reminded of one of its better characters/reasons to watch/whatever you want to call her. Camille. Oh I love Camille. Just like I love Sylvie. It's harsh, when in a series your least favourite character is the main one. Isn't it? but let's take a look to episode 4.

At the beginning of this episode we find our heroine trying to communicate with a very mysantropic flower seller. As we discover few minutes later, it's not that she's hostile with Emily and wants to give her a bouquet of wilting roses because she's a bubbly American but because she hates humanity. This last part is relatable but it's not good to have a job when you have to confront it constantly. Calm down Madame.

Fortunately a young, gentle Frenchwoman shows up and comes to Emily's rescue, not in a shining armour but with a smile the size of Jupiter. Evil flower seller is defeated and Emily walks away with this charming stranger and a perfect rose bouquet. Our new character's name is Camille, and she speaks good English because she watched a lot of series in her childhood. That's why we Spaniards are legendary bad at speaking other languages I guess. Everything is dubbed! Including this episode when I rewatched it. Not a copy in the original language available right now for me. Disappointing, I know.

Camille also invites Emily to the art gallery where she works at and where a famous hotelier is supposed to show up, along with other people from Chicago. Emily is a fan - its a bit weird to be fan of a hotelier, but who am I to judge - , definitely, and wants to meet him. It's also a good professional occasion, probably. The two girls part ways after accidentaly kissing on the mouth. Emily apologizes. Camille is not sorry at all and disappears from scene, big shining smile and all. We agree and are not sorry at all.

Back at home she finds the packages she was expecting from home have finally arrived. Gabriel helps up to take all that stuff inside her apartment. Unfortunately for her, the peanut butter exploded and has made a mess of what looks like a pile of magazines and the framed photo with her ex. Gabriel makes that unmistakable face. Peanut butter? Yours truly, having spent her childhood and teenagehood watching movies and series from the other side of the Atlantic, always wondered what was that thing. When finally tried it it was... so weird. Maybe it was the brand, maybe it was the concept. Who really knows. Whatever, let's go on.

(Yes, he makes that face, the face of a puzzled European I meant).

Also, I am sure Emily can find that thing in Paris, too. I live in a not very big town in Southern Spain and that thing can be found in our supermarkets. So why not in Paris? Big question that the series doesn't answer, tho, because Gabriel proceeds to ruin peanut butter forever with a simple omelette. Well done, Gabriel. But it's time to go to the office, isn't it?

So here we are, with Antoine and Sylvie clearly in the middle of an argument. While claiming she hopes she's not interrupting, Emily does interrupt the scene. Remember that thing from the last chapter when she claimed she had given up in her quest of being universally liked and/or being friends with everyone including her boss? Yeah, nevermind, that's in the past, it no longer matters. Emily tries to mediate and says Randy Zimmer (that's the hotelier's name) is overjoyed to hear Antoine's company is creating an exclusive scent for his hotels.

Sylvie goes on with Emily's lie, even if we can see she's not happy and later states - while throwing the bouquet or roses she just gave her as a "happy Tuesday" present on her desk - that she doesn't need to be rescued, and she doesn't want to take credit for ideas she doesn't know if she really likes. Sylvie is always the voice of reason and adulthood here. She teases her about the lingerie thing, tho. Emily claims her new friend Gabriel gave it to her.

I don't know about Sylvie, but Luc and Julien clearly don't believe that last bit, as they say clearly to Emily over the lunch. This is a dysfunctional workplace, she complains. Hey, smart girl, you are causing all the drama, Julien answers. His mood during the entire scene is exasperated. They tell her how Antoine and Sylvie became lovers in the first place, and warn her not to come between them. I don't think Emily has that intention.

Later that same day, Mindy is full of chaotic energy. Who cares if Antoine is married and with an official misstress? Why is Emily so disperate about becoming friends with Sylvie - yeah, Mindy, why, many of us are questioning that part of Emily's behaviour - why don't just enjoy Antoine's attention? What's more, why doesn't Emily introduce her to Antoine, since she doesn't care about what's her name? Is Mindy shipping Emily and Camille? Yes, she's one of us.

Our favourite French girl is there and warmly welcomes Emily, introducing her to Randy Zimmer who, clearly, goes to the same hairdresser than Antoine. No, really, I have certain difficulties to make the difference between the two, if Randy was wearing a suit with a tie I couldn't tell. As Camille and her fabulous bun walk away, Emily behaves like a dork with Randy. She has memorized his interviews and all. Is a bit awkward, but who am I to judge about memorizing completely irrelevant things in interviews. Randy goes from feeling a bit awkward to intrigued to totes wanting her card and finding her proposition interesting. By the way I really liked these paintings.

Randy shows up the next day at Savoir, and after smelling fragances all they agree they could go on talking about the deal with Randy's hotel empire over a good dinner. Sylvie decides to put again our heroine in difficulties by asking for an impossible reservation. By the way, I love her outfit. Sylvie, not Emily's. As she tries to do her best, Emily confronts Antoine over the lingerie thing. She clearly says it's inappropriate which is a thing I can agree with, he says he bought it for her not for him (eeeeh... are you all right?)

Even in front of the restaurant Sylvie is esceptical Emily really succeeded in her mission of doing that reservation. As usual, she's right. Emily got the dates backwards and made a reservation for November, not August. It should have been easy to find that bit of information online, as most of the world follows another datation system. Fortunately Emily lights the Gabrielsignal on and he comes to her rescue again.

The dinner is, as expected, a success, since we are in the last minutes of the episode a.k.a. in the Emily is saved time. There's a deal, Antoine is very happy with Savoir AND Sylvie. Even the latter makes a compliment to our heroine as they leave after the dinner. Less enthusiast individuals would have felt overjoyed in her place, so it's not strange that Emily decides to thank Gabriel for saving her ass, even if it's with another part of her body, that's is, her lips. Gabriel doesn't seem to object to this.

But, oh surprise in this Paris that is like "a little town" (ok... series... I am rolling my eyes at you again) a she goes out of the restaurant she bumps into our dear Camille, all smiles and charm. It turns out that she is Gabriel girlfriend. Ouch. This could be solved with a civilized chat and our three characters, that, we are about to find in the next chapters, get along together, being happy with this situation and riding into the sunset while enjoying themselves. Yeah, the three of them. Writers, unfortunately, have decided otherwise. But that's another story and will be told in another post.

#emily in paris #I am very late to the party but I don't really care #next time I am watching it on the original language promised

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rayatii · 4 years ago

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A (somehow both very biased and not very opinionated) review of the Met orchestra musicians concert “Song to the Moon” from February 21, 2021:

I had been bothering my Tumblr followers with my excitement over this event yesterday, so it felt only right for me to stop procrastinating and give an attempt for a review of the whole thing; I think this is actually my first time writing a lengthy review ever, and it will probably sound naïve and be an embarrassment for me in the future.

It started around 10 PM where I live. I sat in my bed with my computer while eating chocolate in order to stay awake throughout the whole thing, and trying not to spill any pieces on the sheets, excitedly waiting for this event, having actually bought myself a fifteen-buck ticket about three weeks prior with my parents’ credit card (they didn’t bat an eye when I asked their permission), happily knowing that the money was not going to end up in the pockets of the undeserving Met management.

Given the shitty Lebanese Wi-Fi and the fact that this was a livestream, I had been worried that I might miss significant chunks and get upset over the fact. The stream did glitch a few times for me during the first number (mainly because I had my computer on my constantly-moving knees, before settling it down next to me on the bed), but otherwise it never failed me.

But let’s get on with the review. The livestream began with a title card representing an animation of a lunar eclipse, displaying the title “Song to the Moon”. The concert started with a performance of Antonín Dvořák’s String Quintet No. 2 in G Major, Op. 77 by members of the Met orchestra. (actually, given that this is a Met musicians concert, I feel that they ought to be rightfully credited; Nancy Wu, 1st violin [for this piece], Bruno Eicher, 2nd violin [for this piece], Désirée Elsevier, viola, Kari Jane Docter, cello, and Leigh Mesh, double bass.)

I actually listened to a recording of this piece in preparation a few days prior, just so you guys know. Obviously, there were a few slightly flat notes that were played, but overall this was quite a pleasant rendition, and I still have the theme from the 2nd movement stuck in my head as I’m writing this. What I also liked was that at one point (i.e. when I was actually paying attention in that area) I could actually hear the notes being played by the double bass quite clearly, at least compared to the other recording that I had listened to.

Next on the program, the musicians were joined by soprano Angela Gheorghiu (i.e. my main reason for actually purchasing the ticket), who performed all the way from the Athenaeum of Bucharest, Romania, [1st instance of Raya uselessly gushing] looking ethereal in that shot that was shown of her just walking inside the building wearing that white dress and flowing cape, before the actual performance. Just a warning for you guys here; I love Gheorghiu (actually, it’s a bit of a celebrity “crush”), so please expect a little bit of somewhat controlled gushing here and there (partly physical appearance-wise, which are indicated by the bold, and which I deeply hate myself for). This part of the review is causing me even more anxiety for that reason.

She performed on the stage of a theater that was practically empty besides the pianist. She sang in two languages I do not understand at all, which helped me a bit with not getting too distracted by pronunciation. [2nd instance of Raya uselessly gushing] Before I get into what y’all actually came for, I just wanted to get it out of my system about how she had this appearance that defined “has aged, aged really well”. She had this kind of mature beauty, especially with her makeup, that seemed to give me the overall vibes of a pleasant middle-aged auntie. (well, this was very difficult embarrassing to write) Even her singing voice had this sound that can be described as having this sort of “mature” quality blended with the whole fact of her overall sound being “hers”. I hope I have made myself clear.

Okay, gushing finished for now, let’s move on with the review!

Apparently the footage taken in Bucharest and the one taken in New York were both filmed separately. I found it really mind-blowing how the audio of both got synchronized so perfectly.

The first gem Gheorghiu sang was an arrangement of “Tatăl nostru”; basically an early-19th-century musical setting of the Lord’s Prayer by Anton Pann that is still used to this day in the Romanian Orthodox Church (totally NOT reading off the PDF for the program notes provided on the website). I had obviously never heard this piece before; I had tried to (VERY lazily) look it up a bit, but to no avail. I unfortunately don’t remember much from this performance apart from everything mentioned before, but what I do know is that was rendered really epic thanks to the participation of principal Met percussionist Gregory Zuber alongside the string players.

Next was performed the aria after which the whole concert was named, the incredibly famous “Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém” (aka “Song to the Moon”) by Dvořák again, from the opera Rusalka. This version was actually arranged by the violist Elsevier, who is among the musicians who retired from the Met during the pandemic. And it was indeed a beautiful arrangement! Now, unlike “Tatăl nostru”, which I virtually knew nothing about, I love this aria and know it quite well, so I did pay attention to some of the pronunciation; but then again, I do not speak Czech, so it didn’t matter much. Overall, Gheorghiu’s rendition was not perfect (I thinnnnnnnnk there were some notes that were a little bit out of tune? but there was vibrato that also touched the right tone and so I couldn’t tell), and I would certainly not imagine it within the full context of Rusalka the opera (see what I noted above concerning the quality of her voice), but that did not stop me from finding it quite beautiful.

It felt so weird not to hear any applause after each number, and so I could not help but clap after each gem, even though no one could hear me.

After the concert wrapped up, the audience got to watch a chat session between Gheorghiu and Met horn player Barbara Jöstlein Currie, where they talked about how this whole thing came to be (so apparently there was Instagram DM’ing between the two that was involved in the preparation?), before the five string players (which actually include two married couples!) whose music we heard earlier joined in. So unlike the concert, which was all pre-recorded, this was a Zoom session being streamed live. [3rd instance of Raya uselessly gushing] Gheorghiu’s speaking voice sounds radically different from her singing voice, and I can tell English is not her primary language, but that’s just something useless I wanted to include, on which I have zero strong feelings. In contrast to the pre-recorded concert, here she was responsible for me writing in The Balcony Seats Discord server earlier today about how “you know you have aged well when you end up looking a bit like Morticia Addams”, especially with the makeup. [gushing done]

The whole discussion hinged on the concept of “Met family”, and I found the whole interaction between Gheorghiu and the musicians just very very sweet, a star singer and musicians in the pit seeing each other as equals, as family. It’s not every day that I see that (but then again, my background is severely limited, so what do I know). Among the relatively unimportant things the convo touched on that stick with me, in no particular order, are:

Gheorghiu apparently married on the stage of the Met because the guy from the City Hall lost their papers and I never knew that??? (but then again, I never directly research info about my hyperfixations because I get overwhelmed) Everyone had a nice laugh at that recollection.

She got into this whole profession mainly to sing at the Met. Also the whole deal of her making L*vine cry and making her debut at a young age for a star singer.

Everyone relating to the feeling of going home at night after a concert, and not being able to go to sleep because you still have adrenaline flowing through you. As someone who does performing arts, I also relate to that on a moderate degree.

Family life talks.

Gheorghiu mentioning how she can’t work with a director who’s like “your character does that because that’s what I decided” because something something harmony? I can’t remember; I’m pretty sure I’m misquoting. But that’s basically the equivalent of “my house, my rules” (”my production, my interpretation” in that case, lol) imo, so can’t object too much.

Something about playing the finale of Götterdämmerung led the musicians to humorously throw in the idea of Gheorghiu singing Brünnhilde as her next role, and she went all “nah” to that, also humorously.

This led to her admitting that she’s not the biggest fan of Wagner’s music (though she would consider singing Elsa); saying that she’d travel back in time to tell Wager to stop writing these interminable phrases, to just get to the point (I’m not really into Wagner either, so I don’t completely disagree). Also, she believes that Wagner is difficult to sing, and that singers who nail Wagner tend to end up singing only Wagner (here, I think it depends, but there is a point somewhere in here).

She doesn’t seem to like singing acapella/without music very much, which also led her to record some sAcRiLEgiOuS versions of Orthodox worship songs, which you’re apparently not supposed to sing with music.

She sang something like “goodnight, goodnight” (idk) at the very end, it was cute.

To go back to the important stuff, Gheorghiu apparently wrote directly to the Met donors, asking to help in any way, because she wanted to set an example for other people by doing the right thing, and to help what she sees as her “family”, as mentioned above. I had heard some stories about her diva reputation (and she does seem to enjoy attention and stuff, from what I’ve seen myself), but overall she seems like a pretty good person. Mainly mentioning that because as y’all know I’m autistic and can’t tell intricate body language and stuff, plus my very strong belief that good person >>>>>>> great performer. (but my dear friends say that loving her is valid, so I guess I’m safe from too much disappointment. what am I even writing).

And that’s it for my incredibly long and uselessly detailed and almost incoherent and somewhat gushy review, which took me nearly 3 hours to write (and for which I may or may not have replayed a little bit of the stream just to get one bit of info right), and which will, again, probably embarrass me for the rest of my puny life, but which I could not not let out into the void of operablr.

(There were also moments earlier today where I was fantasizing about being interviewed on that very Zoom meeting for the scene-and-duet I composed back in January in response to the Met’s poor treatment of its musicians)

I guess what I can take from this post is: never write a review again, Raya!

#sorry everyone!!!#raya writes a review #concert review #opera concert review #angela gheorghiu #(whom i have excessively gushed over)#(but seriously you should count the number of times i have written 'gheorghiu' in this one post!)#(i haven't bc it's late)#met orchestra musicians #song to the moon #song to the moon concert #dealing with part of a current hyperfixation

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aka-efirg · 4 years ago

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of god and... god

dazai is free. dostoevsky is free. chuuya is not. after years of living with the god right beside him but always beyond reach, one week in the clutch of a self-proclaimed god suffices to break the barrier between the god and the human

triggers : non-consensual drug use ; implied/referenced torture ; implied/referenced rape

ao3

“It seems you’re lucid again despite the drugs.”

“It seems your drugs don’t work anymore. Maybe you shouldn’t have used the same ones for a whole week. You didn’t do your homework? My body takes around a week to grow accustomed to a drug.”

“How unfortunate. Maybe I shouldn’t have underestimated Dazai’s strongest piece.”

The sound of chains breaking can be heard and in one second the redhead is in front of Fyodor, a hand on his throat.

“Be careful with what you’re saying. Dazai and you think the game is solely between you and the lot of us are just pieces. You geniuses are so annoying.” While speaking, Chuuya moves and is now straddling the russian’s lap, his arms around his neck. “I’m no one’s strongest piece, neither queen, nor even trump card. And certainly not Dazai’s. I’m my own player. Both of you better remember that from now.”

“You are now?” Fyodor is looking straight at the mesmerizing blue eyes. When he’s got his hand on the redhead, he has not planned things will turn this way. But it is far from being unpleasing for him. If not, it’s just making things more interesting. “Yet you seem to play by Dazai’s game.”

The look the mafioso throws at the russian is fierce enough to pin Fyodor to his chair. However his expression is openly interested, wanting to see how things will unfold. The redhead seems to catch his feelings because the frown on his face subtly deepens.

“I play along, not by. You are threatening my city and the people I care about. So if following Dazai’s plan can ensure your demise, I’m willing to do it.”

“Such harsh words.”

Fyodor brings his hand to the other’s face and draws an imaginary line from the cheekbone to the jawline, reveling in the way the redhead seems to lean at the touch. Not unlike a cat, Fyodor thinks, amused. Sometimes biting and hissing. Sometimes demanding and purring.

The second Chuuya realizes what he’s doing, he withdraws. Leaving hanging in the air the hand that was previously gently stroking his face. Fyodor even swears he hears the redhead hissing. Not that it will be enough to deter him. On the contrary. He grabs the mafioso’s chin and maintains his head so that their eyes are bored into each other’s.

Amethyst into sapphire. He takes several seconds to relish the sea of emotions, so vivid and captivating. How the the redhead is not afraid of showing them is a strange concept. It makes him wonder what it is like to feel so strongly. Is the mafioso not overwhelming? Is it not incapacitating to have so many emotions that can go against reason and logic?

How can one think rationally if they are filled with anger or despair? How can they hope winning if they can not do what has to be done? If one is not ready to sacrifice those beneath them, they are just going to die, along the very ones they want to protect.

So he doesn’t understand how the one before him can be an Executive and still feeling and caring so vigorously. You would think someone who works under Mori Ōgai and had Dazai Osamu as their partner would have learned to hide their emotions.

But no, because these very emotions that should not be in the open are flashing so fast in these so expressive eyes Fyodor is not sure he’s managed to catch them all, let alone identified them.

“It’s such a shame we don’t share the same point of view. You’d be dazzling by my side.”

“By your side?” Chuuya snorts. “You would let someone stand beside you?”

“I certainly could let you.”

When Fyodor feels the redhead moving, he prepares for him to try to dislodge the grip on his chin and back away. Instead the smaller leans forward until their nose are only a few millimeters away.

“And what makes you think I’d want you by my side?”

“Are you that hard to please?”

Chuuya moves his head back, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Like I said, I’m not keen on those who go after the people I care about. Plus you want to destroy Yokohama and I can’t be seen with someone like that, can’t I?”

Fyodor lets out an amused chuckle and lets go of Chuuya’s chin, only to place his hand on the other’s hip and press him closer.

“You’re awfully close to me right now.”

“But I’m not next to you.”

The glint in his purple eyes matches the smile which appears on his face. He presses the smaller closer with the hand on his hip and brings the other to the red hair. He starts playing with the fiery strands, enjoying the silky sensation. He then bores his eyes into the blue ones and can’t help but say. “Your look has changed, compared to last week.”

The hand on the hip is now resting under the shirt and starts drawing circles on the lower back. To his credit Chuuya doesn’t look fazed by the russian’s constant touching. “Maybe it’s because I’m not drugged anymore.”

“No. You have changed. I don’t know what has caused this change but something feels different about you.”

“What? You really thought no change would occur after being your prisoner for a whole week?”

“I wouldn’t know. Usually they break after only a few hours, or one day for the most resilient. The change is always for the worst. They certainly don’t become more dangerous than before.”

“Oh~ you think I’m dangerous?”

“It would not be wise to underestimate you. I’ve already done it and look at where it has led us.”

“Me on your lap?”

Fyodor chuckles. “More you out of your chains.”

“And what are you going to do about that? Your chains can’t contain me and your drugs don’t work on me.”

Fyodor’s hand stops playing with the red strands and comes to encircle the smaller’s neck, applying a little pressure. “I could always kill you. There would be one fewer opponent. A powerful one at that.”

Chuuya removes his arms from where they are and cups Fyodor’s face with his hands. “What are you waiting for?” He leans forward, increasing the pressure on his neck. His voice becomes smoother, hypnotizing as he talks.“I’m at the mercy of your ability. Heck, you could even gut me with the knife you’re keeping on you. So what are you waiting for? Are you afraid your ability won’t work on me? Or do you think I will use your knife against you?” One of his hand has gotten closer to the said knife and is now holding its hilt. Without looking away, he brings the weapon between them, the blade toward him. “There, you see. All you have to do is push.”

Fyodor watches with amusement as the redhead is leaning closer and closer until he’s sure the blade is nipping the mafioso’s skin. “Now I can see why Dazai is so interested in you.”

Despite the mention of his ex-partner, Chuuya cracks a smile, pure mischief perceptible in his eyes. No one should look that pleased after being tortured for a week. Fyodor think absently. You sure seem to enjoy yourself, маленький бог.

“Oh, you were talking about me in your glass prison?”

“Well, I don’t see who else will fit the most the description of ‘a barking dog who seems can not follow one simple order and will only end up being a disappointment’. Even though you’re far from being a disappointment. I suspect Dazai wanted to keep you as far from me as possible. I mean, I can understand why. Wouldn’t it be the worst scenario if you ended up being under my control?”

“I’m fucking going to kill him and throw his body in the middle of the ocean.” He leans backward and sighs. Fyodor can only watch with mirth the redhead growing more and more irritated. “Lose one game, one single game and you get this fucking nickname following you for the rest of your life.” He looks Fyodor in the eyes, frowning a little at the clear display of emotions into them. “Once I’m finished with you, I swear this shitty good-for-nothing mackerel is dead.”

“Wouldn’t it be like throwing away all your efforts to free him?”

“But it would be so satisfying to do so.” The not pout and the not childish tone are so alien to the situation, Fyodor can’t help but smile.

“I’m not denying it. But didn't you say you needed him to beat me?”

“Agh, you’re right. You’re fucking right. I hate geniuses.” Chuuya closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Why does he always end up frustrated each time his ex-partner is mentioned? He has other problems to deal with. Such as the russian asshole in front of him.

“Maybe we should stop talking about him.”

“You’re the one who mentioned him first.”

“Why are we talking about him as if he is your ex-something ready to come between us?”

“Us? Great, replacing one disaster sociopath genius by one distinguish psychopath genius. I’m over the moon.”

For sole answer, Fyodor pushes the redhead toward him with his hand, pressing the knife even more into the smaller’s stomach, and brings his head closer to his own. The mafioso doesn’t flinch in the slightest at the bite of the knife, nor at the sudden lips crashing against his own. The kiss is far from being sweet and slow, but is devouring and biting. Neither of them close their eyes and Chuuya quickly understands the kiss is not of lust and desire, but of domination and control.

So that is where Fyodor wants to go. Fine. Two can play this game. And Chuuya would be damned if he’s going to let the russian win.

He lets go of the knife, leaving it rest between them, and brings his hand to the dark hair. He grabs the black strands ferociously and deepens the kiss. He feels delight in the subtle shudder his action causes to the russian. In response he feels the hand on his neck moving to his nape and the vicious grip that follows. Thankfully he is no stranger to this kind of action and has since learned not to react. Fyodor is not the first one thinking he can submit him like that. And the few ones who succeeded paid the price ten fold.

As neither of them appear to want to let the other gain one bit of control, soon they both are left out of breath and forced to break the kiss. Fyodor’s eyes shine with ominous glee and hunger. A dark chuckle escapes from his lips which curve in a predatory smile.

“You weren’t that defiant the other times I kissed you, маленький бог.”

The glint in Chuuya’s eyes is dangerous as well. The man before him took advantage of the state he was in and the god in him demands retribution. One does not wrong a god without paying the price. And Chuuya is more than willing to let the god reclaim his due.

Fyodor mustn’t have sensed his intents, or does not care, because the next thing he says sends fury in his blood.

“You were so pliant and begging for more.”

Amusement is painting his face and all Chuuya wants is to rip this smile in tatters. Torn those hands off and crush them until there is nothing left. He wants to take his soul and shred it. Again and again. To wrest all that makes him human.

Does Fyodor even have a soul? Is it already in tatters? Does it look human? Now Chuuya wants to know. Which one of them have the most human soul?

Despite his thoughts of death and shredding, Chuuya flashes a sweet smile and brushes Fyodor’s face with his finger.

“Oh I’m sure it was very satisfying to have a god at your mercy. Whimpering, meowing, screaming, begging. I hope you enjoyed it because it won’t happen again.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Drug me, chain me, torture me again if you must, I will kill you. Make me beg one more time and I will destroy and tear you apart.”

Fyodor strokes the skin of the nape under his hand with a sickening affection. “Is it a promise?”

When Chuuya senses the hand on his back getting lower until the finger are under his clothes, he clutches violently the dark hair while his other hand grasps the arm in a bruising grip.

“Yes, it is.”

#bungou stray dogs #nakahara chuuya #dostoevsky fyodor #arahabaki #my writing

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stillebesat · 6 years ago

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Spilled Milk

Sanders Sides: Logan, Roman Blurb: Logan never expected to get in the middle of a fight while at the self-checkout of a grocery store. Fic Type: Hurt Comfort Inspiration: From a story an acquaintance told as well as a news article I read. Warnings: Hitting, Blood, Yelling. Taglist: At end of fic.

With how far technology had advanced in the last decade, Logan would have thought that upgrading the way machines read dollar bills would have been on someone’s list of ‘things that needs to happen ASAP.’

Beep Beep Whirr

Apparently not.

Logan barely kept a scowl off of his face as the machine at the self-check out spit out the five again. For the fourth freaking time.

“Could you hurry it up at all?” A whiny voice demanded right behind him. “Just pay already!”

Logan hunched his shoulders, doing his best to keep his distance from the lady who’d been breathing down his neck practically the entire time he’d been standing in line for the self-checkout.

He hated when people had no concept of personal space.

“I’m trying.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as he grabbed the bill back out of the machine, doing his best to smooth it out by running it over the edge of counter before trying again.

“Try. Faster.” She hissed, edging her cart full of groceries ever closer to him to the point where the wheels threatened to run over his foot. “Some of us are in a hurry here.”

Beep Beep Whirr

Abraham Lincoln’s face again confronted him as the machine spat it back out.

Logan briefly closed his eyes. “Come on.” He didn’t have the energy for this.

“JUST Pay with a CARD already! I don’t have all day!” The woman bumped his thigh with her cart.

He took a breath, fighting to keep his ragged emotions in check as he shakily grabbed the five back with trembling hands, smoothing it once more. If only more than one self-checkout lane had been open. Then he wouldn’t be dealing with this--this dragon witch along with the finicky check-out machine.

“I only have cash.” He said, barely keeping his voice civil. Specifically this five dollar bill. He had nothing else. His bank account was empty. His credit card maxed out.

All because the gaming company he worked at, MantiCore, had folded. The Ceos vanishing with all the funds, having claimed bankruptcy, their stocks plummeting within seconds as word spread. And Logan...had been left without his job of nine years and the paycheck he’d been counting on having for the past two weeks. For the last ninety-eight and a half hours he’d sacrificed to work nonstop on his passion project.

He’d barely gotten more than a handful of hours of sleep frantically working to get his newest multiplayer verse ready for its release tonight at midnight...only to handed a pink slip two hours ago and unceremoniously tossed out on his ear, the game officially axed.

Logan exhaled, again sliding the bill into the slot, absently pressing his hand against the faint bulge in his pocket.

Until he found a job that would actually pay him like MantiCore had promised him, that five was the last of his funds. Enough cash to buy a quart of milk and the smallest jar of Crofters he could find.

All for nothing.

Beep Beep Ding.

Logan looked up, shoulders relaxing as the stupid device finally took his money. Finally. Two pennies and a nickel clanging into the change dish as the receipt printed out.

“Don’t just stand there like a stick in the mud!” The blonde-haired demon lady shrilled, rushing forward to take his spot. “MOVE.”

Logan flinched, hurriedly reaching out to grab his groceries to avoid getting elbowed in the gut.

Only his hand miscalculated the distance, knocking into the milk carton instead of grabbing it, sending it into the Crofters right as the woman pushed her way in front of the machine.

He yelped, barely managing to stay on his feet as the pungent floral perfume overwhelmed his senses like a sneak attack, his reflexes sluggish as he reached out to save the milk and his precious Crofters before they tipped over the edg--

Thud.

Crash.

Sploosh.

A shriek.

Logan dropped to his knees. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” He said, heart sinking at the red and white mess now covering the floor. He grabbed at the shards of glass and shattered carton of milk in a pointless attempt to keep the mess from spreading.

WHAM.

Stars danced in Logan’s eyes as the sharp edge of the woman’s fake leather purse caught him on the side of the face, knocking him straight into the liquid disaster.

“MY. SHOES!” The woman screeched, her purse again coming down on his head. “MY DRESS! YOU RUINED THEM YOU HORRID LAYABOUT!!”

Logan cried out, unable to find the words to tell the lady to stop hitting him. He curled up in a ball covering his head with his arms in a futile attempt to ward off her attacks. Why? Just...why?

“YOU. DID. THAT. ON. PURPOS---HEY!”

“I believe.” A cool voice said in the sudden silence as Logan cautiously looked up to see a man around his own age, wearing a red and white jacket, easily holding the woman’s raised arm in place. “That that is quite enough, miss. This guy isn’t at fault--”

She gaped at him, before tugging fitfully at her arm. “NOT AT FAULT?! HE--LET GO OF ME YOU--!”

The stranger let go, stepping to the side as the store’s security guard reached them.

“You ruined your own clothes.” He interrupted at the same time the guard said “Ma’am I need you to come with me.”

She gaped at them both, strap of her purse held loosely in her hand. “What? WHY! HE’S--!”

“Because you assaulted another customer, ma’am.” The guard jerked a thumb over his shoulder to the wall. “The cameras caught it all on tape--”

The rest of the conversation faded from Logan’s ears as his rescuer crouched in front of him, his warm brown eyes searching his face. “You okay?”

It took Logan a moment to remember he should be answering the question. “F-fine.” He winced at the tremor in his voice and looked away. “Just...fine.” What was one more thing going wrong compared to his entire nightmare filled week?

The man snorted. “Doubtful, you’re covered in jelly.”

“Jam.”

“Same thing.”

Logan scoffed. “They’re completely different!”

His rescuer picked up a shard of glass that had the Crofters label on it and smirked. “Alright. I’ll give you that. Crofters is on a whole different tier really-” He abruptly shook his head, holding out his other hand. “Geez man, don’t get me on a Crofters kick! You’re wet, injured, and look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“Four days.” The correction slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it as Logan allowed his rescuer to pull him to his feet.

He gritted his teeth, his right leg protesting the movement as crackling zings of agony made themselves known and glanced down, shuddering as he noted the shards of glass sticking through the fabric. It was obvious that not all those dark stains on his pants were from the Crofters.

The man clicked his tongue. “Well, no wonder you look like death, Specs! Come on.” He scooped Logan up into his arms like he weighed nothing. “I don’t even know how you’re holding a conversation with me.” He said, ignoring Logan’s undignified yelp as he threw his arms around his rescuer’s neck. “I mean, I’ve done forty-eight hours before and I was positively loopy by the time I finally crashed.” He said, carefully moving them out of the liquid puddle while a couple of workers from the store descended on the spill with brooms and mops, heading for a bench nearby. “Unfortunately for me, my roomie at the time got video of it so I can’t just pretend it never happened and I haven’t yet found a way to get my own blackmail against the guy--” He sat Logan gently down, kneeling in front of him. “Mind if I look at that leg?” He asked, hand hovering over his knee.

Was this guy for real? “Are you a Doctor?” He asked, wincing as he pulled up his stained pant leg for the man to see.

His rescuer ruefully shook his head. “Hardly, that’s my Ma actually.” He grinned sheepishly, pulling out a pack of bandages and neosporin with a wadded up receipt from his jacket. “When I was nine she told me. ‘Ro, if ya gonna keepa getten in dese imeeginery fights I will needa teacha how ta fix yaself up.’” He shrugged, frowning at the glass embedded in Logan’s skin. “Not my fault I had to battle so many Dragon Witches as a ki--

Wait. Dragon Witches? But he’d...Logan snorted, raising a hand to his mouth trying to turn his laugh into a cough.

The man--Ro raised an eyebrow, shoulders hunching slightly. “What’s so funny?”

Logan shook his head, glancing to the woman still shouting at the self-checkout. “That’s...that’s what I mentally called her, before…” He gestured to his soaking clothes. “A Dragon Witch.”

Ro’s eyes lit up. “Oh really?” He drawled, giving the woman another considering look. “I always thought she’d be taller...more...scaley.”

Logan stifled another laugh, shaking his head. Perhaps it was the stress getting to him. Very likely the lack of sleep too. “Same. I designed her that way in….” He exhaled, sitting back, briefly touching his shirt pocket. “In One Knight Joan-Lee.”

“YOU!” His rescuer was suddenly nose to nose with him, hands on his shoulders. “You are---you--the Joan-Lee games are Ah-May-ZING!! I couldn’t believe it ---Did you---How were you connected with--”

Logan blinked, caught by surprise at the adoration in Ro’s vibrant brown eyes. “I…” His hand gripped his shirt pocket. “I am--was--one of the Creators.”

Ro inhaled sharply. Eyes going wide. “You’re---”

“Sir?”

The two of them looked up, Ro sitting back on his heels as the medic adjusted the strap of his bag. Behind him and his partner, a handful of police officers were attempting to sooth the wom--Logan’s lips quirked in a small smile. The Dragon Witch as she railed against them, obviously refusing to come quietly.

“Can I see your injuries?” The medic asked, placing his bag on the ground as he knelt, quickly setting to work once Logan nodded, his attention quickly drawn away from his rescuer to answering questions asked by the men treating him and then giving his statement to the police once they’d taken the Dragon Witch out of the store. By the time the paramedics were packing up their things with a word of caution to go to the hospital if he experienced any dizziness or vomiting, Ro had vanished.

Logan exhaled, rolling down his pant leg over the bandages before cautiously standing, glad to not be going to the hospital. It wasn’t like he could afford it with no money to his name.

“Yo, Specs.”

He turned in time to catch a soft cloth bag thrown at his chest. “Wha--”

Ro grinned, holding up a bulging grocery bag. “The store replaced your food and then some, but I figured you could use a change of clothes too. I wouldn’t want to drive home covered in milk and jam.”

And blood.

Logan clutched his bag tighter to his chest, tearing his eyes away from the extra food and peered inside of his own to see a pair of jeans, socks, and a dark t-shirt inside. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected his rescuer to stick around after giving his witness statement, let alone give him clothes. This was--He licked his lips. “Ro, I couldn’t--”

“Sure you can and…” Ro hesitated, looking uncertain as he slipped a hand in his pocket. “I’m also sorry you got axed from MantiCore today...Logan.”

Logan started, looking up. “How!--” He didn’t recall giving his rescuer his name.

Ro raised an eyebrow. “Come on, ‘one of the Creators,’ Specs? How about the Creator of One Knight Joan-Lee. I would know your design style anywhere which is why.” He held out a card, tilting it so that the logo to MantiCore’s top rival, ChiMera, was visible. “My company would welcome you with open arms.” He shrugged as Logan gaped at him open mouthed.

No. It couldn’t be. Ro wasn’t...was he? His rescuer couldn’t be Roman Prince freaking CEO of ChiMera! The rival of the gaming world had been gunning to take sales away from MantiCore for years! Why would that CEO, why would Roman himself, even deign to walk in a grocery store let alone this grocery store? How!

“No strings attached of course should you decide to try elsewhere.” Ro--Roman? fidgeted under Logan’s bewildered stare “The clothes aren’t a bribe or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

The thought had crossed his mind.

Roman spread his arms, grocery bag swinging. “But the offer stands. A talent like yours shouldn’t be wasted, Lo. You would have a good, well paying job with us. I promise.”

Of all the ways he expected today to end-- “I…” Logan cleared his throat, a small smile spreading on his face, the weight of the flashdrive holding his entire One Knight Joan-Lee program warm in his shirt pocket as he reached out to take the card. “I would like that, Roman. Thanks.”

End.

Taglist: @loverofpizzaandallthingssweet @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @redundant-statements-for-400 @aikogumi @depressed-alone @lizziepopanime @midnightcandy @sidewritings @nekoabi @ironwoman359 @ilovereadingandilovebreathing @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @theblackhoundsdaughter @littlemiracle05 @virgil-has-a-houseplant @caristars @seas-space-and-stardust @thedannyparable @faacethefacts @but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @fancydelusionluminary @generalfandomfabulousness @theincediblesulk @i-am-avacado @entitydark @unikornavenger @iris-sanders-athena @narniasfinestavengingsociopath @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @uniquesoulshatter @made-of-bitterness-and-sarcasm @moltengoldenstardust @sanders-is-awesome @myownhappilyeverafter @dragonsight9 @loving-neko @lucifer-in-my-head @punsterterry @riley-castillo @sleepyssnail @fandomcrazy899 @fuck-perfection-be-a-mess @yay-cats9 @i-will-physically-fight-you @wisepuma23 @jemthebookworm @sanders-sides-thuri @fandersfic-logan @fandersfic-logince @strangerthings-and-phan @sparkedawg @kirsten-the-freak @aliferous-ly @pattson @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @saphirestrike @ssimplypatton @birdybabybird @dementeddracon @countessmissyshort @heythereprincey @inalandofmythandtimeofmagic @savingshae @somepostontheinternet @nyamafriend @topiwolf .

#Spilled Milk #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Logan #Roman #Logic #Creativity #yelling tw #blood tw #hitting tw #fanfic

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championfrita · 5 years ago

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Pokémon Sword and Shield Review

So...I've taken some time to fully play Pokémon Shield. Now, I know this is pretty delayed, and I got the double pack so I wanted to play Sword first to see if how I felt was really accurate or if I was being too harsh. That said, let's talk about my experience with the Galar Region.

Initial Impressions

Overall, I was excited to play Shield at first. Everything was bright and exciting and the characters were easy to recognize and not overly generic.

The first few hours of this game, well it's a slow burn. And I do mean SLOW. Even with the text set to Fast and me taking things at my own pace it took me at least a good couple hours to reach the Wild Area. Furthermore, this game has an infernal amount of handholding, even when given the option to say "I know all this already" it still gives a brief explaination for almost anything and STILL makes you sit ALL THE WAY THROUGH the catch tutorial.

It's 2019 and older players still don't get the option to skip this. Come on GameFreak.

That said, the longer I played the more I began to notice...how should I put this? Blatant laziness?

The Wild Area

Now, the CONCEPT of the Wild Area in theory is amazing. It's still not too bad as is, but there are definitely flaws. For starters, the same tree has been copy pasted all over the place to make up 90% of the foliage.

More than that, though, despite the Wild Area having a good selection of Pokémon and a fairly varietied environment (desert, lakes, forest) it feels oddly...empty. There are no real secrets to speak of, no hidden areas, no easily missed items. Everything is all right out there to see and spread pretty far apart. I don't know if it's a lack of Trainers or the fact that I don't have an Online membership so I played alone, but the Wild Area feels like it just needs something MORE.

Dynamax Raid Battles, even when done alone, are fairly fun and sometimes challenging with the turn limit. Radiant AI Trainers spawn in to assist you if you're playing alone so there's no worries about having to take one on with just one Pokémon.

Camping, which can be done anywhere but is introduced to the player here, is an absolute treat. Have YOU played fetch with a unicorn? I have, and I love it. The wide variety of curries you can make with different ingredients is nice, and your Pokémon even get EXP boosts if you play with and feed them while camping.

The Pokémon

Honestly, I'm really not impressed. The Galar Dex of new Pokémon feels painfully small, so much so that playing Pokémon GO and catching a few Unova Pokémon made me yearn for the days when we used to get regions completely FULL of new Pokémon. Remember when you had to wait until AFTER the main game to start catching Pokémon from past gens? I...well, this might be an unpopular opinion, but I LIKED that.

That said, using a sparse selection of Galar Pokémon and Galar Regional Variants on my team definitely made the Gym Challenge more difficult. I picked Scorbunny, because Fire Types, and honestly didn't really care for it or its evolutions at first. Cinderace has really grown on me though and I like Pyro Ball as a move. It's flashy and powerful and that suits me just fine. Most of the new Pokémon's DESIGNS were good and I liked them, there just really weren't ENOUGH of them.

I'm fairly pleased with the regional variants as well. It was difficult to adjust to Ponyta and Rapidash being Psychic Type, but I really liked having them on my team. At the same time...Meowth not evolving into a Persian doesn't really sit right with me.

I'm all for branch evolutions, but Perrserker honestly just looks more like a giant Galar Meowth than anything. I played this with only the info given in the few scattered trailers I'd seen, so I was genuinely excited to see what a Galarian Persian would look like only to end up with Perrserker. The Typing is phenominal, and I think it's great to see a Steel Type Meowth for a change, but I just don't like where they went with it. Eh. Ces't la vie, moving on.

The Story

It's weak. Straight up, the story in this game is poor. There were so many directions they could have gone. I really liked the idea of Rose being this charismatic chairman hype man for the League and being the bad guy. I saw it coming, but it was a nice change to see just based on his personality. Still, it feels rushed. His motivations are really one dimensional and glossed over. Like, "Oh, here's the bad guy. Go get him." It worked in Gen 1 because Giovanni was a MOBSTER. He was MEANT to be a bad guy straight to the core in general, but Rose just doesn't have that vibe.

Not only that, but the "Bad League Members" are kinda meh. That feels REALLY lazy. They didn't even really get a decent uniform change when they started taking on the name Macro Cosmos in Rose Tower. They got black glasses. That's it. Just that. The fight with Eternatus feels painfully rushed and shoehorned in too, almost like they thought "Oh no, we need to give them a big nasty boss to fight! Let's just throw a random monster at them and say Rose summoned it. Seems like a solid plan."

I DID like the after story with Piers though. It really solidifies that older brother sort of nature with him, even if he tries to hide it most of the time.

The Characters

I liked Hop. As a character he's really fun and I like how they gave him this over excited very grand gestured sort of personality. He's really just happy to be ANYWHERE as long as it's with his Pokémon and you. His admiration for his big bro might come off strong and make him seem a little flat at first, but he's overall portrayed as a good kid and I like him.

Leon on the other hand...well I hated him for most of the game. His design is great and he looks fabulous, but he just has the most cocky, obnoxious, pandering personality 90% of the time. Still, I have to give credit where credit is due and recognize that he IS actually a multifaceted character. He showboats not just because he's too confident but also to give the crowd a show and put people at ease in times of danger. Not only that, but his recognition of his little brother's accomplishments and his graceful acceptance of defeat when you beat him reveals a really well written character.

I don't DISlike Sonia, and I have no problem with Prof. Magnolia sitting on the sidelines, but she can be a little...irritating at times with the way she speaks about and to people. The Gym Leaders, aside from Piers, feel a little...light.

I mean, most Gym Leaders don't have detailed backstories, but these ones feel paper thin personality wise as well. I had to look at the official GUIDE just to be sure what the relationship between Melony and Gordie even WAS because you only seem him in her Special League Card in Shield and that tells you nothing about him. The only real leaders that stood out to me were Piers and Raihan, and while I was iffy about his design at first I LOVE Raihan. He has so much more personality and ferocity than any of the other leaders. And the social commentary about him needing to constantly take and post a selfie, even after losing, is a nice touch.

The Galar Region

Is very linear. Like, VERY linear. Even when you take a branching path it either loops back around or gives you a free ride to wherever you have to backtrack to. I hope you like Hammerlocke, cuz you're gonna be visiting there several times.

I know that the region is based off the UK, and maybe my Americanized idea of cities is different (idk, I've never been to the UK), but a lot of the towns in this game feel really small. Like, almost smaller than some of the towns in Hoenn small. Maybe it's a lack of significant interactable buildings, but despite many of them having multiple floors you typically can only access one and that's kind of a disappointment. The hotel in Wyndon won't even let you get in the elevator, and while I get that Alola also did that, it's kind of jarring when the hotel in Motostoke WILL let you see other floors.

That said, I kind of expected more than ONE Wild Area. The one we DID get is fine, and I appreciate what it is and lets us do, but I honestly thought there would be multiple places to really explore outside the standard straight lines. Pokémon has never been a franchise to shy away from puzzles before so I expected this to not be any different. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

Moreover, many of the environment pieces are just UGLY. A lot of the ground textures are reused 3DS assets, and those copy pasted trees I mentioned earlier? Also 3DS assets. How do I know? They're pentagonal instead of round. In other words, they have five sides. Why? Because the 3DS hardware couldn't handle complex environmental shapes that well so they could get away with it, but now that we have nice round berry trees the contrast becomes painful. The Wild Area is so ugly the first time you see it is at NIGHT. They were so aware of what they did they hoped making it darker would hide the lazy flop instead of showing off how bad it was.

It isn't like they COULDN'T fix it either. Look at Ballonlea and Glimwood Tangle. They're absolutely beautiful and very well done. The modeling with them is fantastic and I love the glowing effects. They absolutely could've made the poorly done areas look amazing, but for some reason they didn't and the game suffers some as a result.

Other Thoughts

The Gym Challenges...they were not fun. Like, honestly some were ok. Herding Wooloo was easy, but they really didn't feel like anything I would expect from a Gym. The water puzzle in Nessa's Gym was fine, and I personally liked the spinning cup ride, but the rest just felt like agonizingly long padding because they couldn't come up with anything. Look at Circhester's challenge. It's a dowsing rod gauntlet where you have to avoid falling in pits in an artificial blizzard. It. is. SO. SLOW. That said, Spikemuth having just a Trainer gauntlet instead was kind of awkward. I reached the end and asked myself "Was that it? Is this it? Is this all there is to Spikemuth? Just one giant alleyway and a Pokémon Center?"

Raihan's three trials of worthiness challenge? It was more difficult than the battle AGAINST RAIHAN. Speaking of, I beat Hop, Marnie, Bede, all the Gym Leaders, Rose, Oleana, and Leon on my first try every time. While it was more difficult with my specific Pokémon choices, it really wasn't much. And can I just say that the Gym Badges are kinda lame? I get what they were going for, but the designs of each piece could've been really unique and intricate and instead we got glorified stamps.

I liked a lot of the general features of the game. Camping, clothing shops, League Cards. I love designing League Cards, even if I'm the only one who's ever gonna see em. That said, the clothing choices were really narrow based on what we got in Sun and Moon. The variety of different items was pretty small, though I loved all the punk leather stuff but WOW IS IT EXPENSIVE. Like Lumiose Boutique expensive. AND WHY IS THERE NEVER A REDHEAD HAIR COLOR THAT ISN'T JUST AUBURN RED? There are actually A LOT of redheads with LIGHT RED hair (that's more a personal gripe than anything, I know).

A lot of the music felt almost like rehashes of older BGMs. Like, Postwick, Route 1, and Wedgehurst all sound like they have remixed Hoenn music. A lot of the other music tracks just don't feel fitting for the areas or for Pokémon games in general. I like parts of the Slumbering Weald music and I like the Gym Music, but the opening of Slumbering Weald feels awkward and like it doesn't fit a mysterious forest we're not allowed to be in.

I know I've complained a lot, but there were some things I genuinely liked. A lot of the Pokémon designs, place names, and other radiant decor and parts of the region are actually subtle and not so subtle references to cultural points of the UK. Skwovet and its evolution for example are a gray and red squirrel respectively and are a nod to invasive species, which is neat.

In Conclusion

Is Pokémon Sword and Shield amazing? No. Is it bad? No. Sword and Shield fall into that mediocre middle ground of being ok but nothing to write home about. Could I have done without them? Sure, they aren't some world ending imperitive must play. They're ok, and they make for a fine jumping on point and a fine little adventure if you have spare time. Have other mainline games done it better? Heck yeah, but that doesn't mean Sword and Shield haven't done a few good things too.

Overall, it sort of feels like GameFreak bit off more than they could chew, or were afraid to make changes because of unfamiliarity with the Switch's hardware and software limitations. Pokémon Let's Go had a lot more effort, but it also was much safer and had a much easier to work with art style to everything. Chibi proportions are a lot easier to fake than a more realistic counterpart. Things can be not perfect and it's less noticable than with more realistic proportions, and I think they were afraid to push back the deadline any further for the inevitable backlash despite that being what they likely needed. The DLC may change my mind, but as it stands, just the fact that they feel they can JUSTIFY their laziness with DLC packs really upsets me.

I give Pokémon Sword and Shield a 5/10.

It's just, OK.

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graphicdesignvictim · 5 years ago

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journal 1/ chapters 1-4 / the prologue to graphic design

initial thoughts

When I first received the textbook, the 6th edition of Meggs' History of Graphic Design (written by Philip B. Meggs and Alston W. Purvis) in the mail, I was immediately stressed out. I was unfortunately gifted the trait of being ultra stressed about a lot of things, but school always won first place in amount of stress. (My freshman year of high school I was so stressed I was getting a lot of gray hairs...so embarrassing!) In general, history has been my least favorite subject, and therefore was the subject I struggled with the most. Although I am passionate about graphic design, I wasn't super psyched to be reading about its history. Sorry Professor!

1 / the invention of writing

These terms! I believe I have only heard of pictographs and hieroglyphics before reading this. To read that there's petroglyphs, ideographs, cuneiform, and rebus writing. Wow.

"The symbol for sun...began to represent ideas such as "day" and "light"." (pg.9, Meggs.): You know, I never considered that. On my essay in quiz 1, I discussed how there were would be too many characters to represent every word, and that is why having an alphabet is more advantageous. Though I agree with my argument, I wonder how many symbols would have dual or more meanings, as that is the case for many words in the modern English language. For example, the word "die" could mean the verb of ceasing to exist, or it could mean the noun of a dot-marked playing cube / singular form of dice. So in cuneiform terms, would the symbol for "die" [noun] represent the idea of death? Probably not, but maybe with crazy English it might.

Whenever quarantine ends, I wonder how hard it would be to make my own cylinder seal. After reading this portion, I found the urge to make one. Obviously with modern technology, making a personalized stamp wouldn't be that hard, and I have seen some DIY artists make their wax seals. I think it would be fantastically ridiculous to have an obnoxious stone seal to go around "marking my territory" on.

Ah papyrus. I feel stupid for admitting this, but I didn't actually know papyrus was a plant. I didn't think it was not a plant, however I just never thought of it that deeply. I'm going to look up what it looks like right now. [...] Oh, okay. I suppose today is the appropriate day to say that it sort of looks like thin marijuana? Anyway, speaking of papyrus, the reason I never gave it much thought to it being a plant is because I have been too focused on everyone's hatred for the Papyrus typeface. Why does everyone hate it? I haven't found myself wanting to use it (yet), but I definitely feel this social pressure that I'm not allowed to use it.

I find superstition fascinating. I think if I could meet anyone from the past I would want to meet the illustrator of the Book of the Dead. That would be a morbidlly cool job to have, just feeling that some random guy named Bob has had enough days lived. AND WITH THE POWER OF THE PEN you kill hi- I mean let him enter the afterlife.

2 / alphabets

The definition of an alphabet is definetly something I have not thought about in depth. This definition makes sense, but I always took it for granted in terms of- well I know English, there's an alphabet. I tried to learn Spanish, there's an alphabet... it's almost the same except they're pronounced differently and there's another n- ñ. I tried to learn Japanese, and there's almost twice as many characters (as English), 2 for each sound.

Fascinating to learn that Hebrew and Arabic writing was the evolution of the Phoenician alphabet. I can very much see the resemblances. But it's crazier that different cultures took it in one direction, and then the Greeks took it in another direction, and the Romans took that alphabet in a completely different direction. It blows my mind to see how far we've come.

Ah yes, serifs. I love the whole argument over whether they originated at cleanup marks or sharpening-the-brush-tip marks. Can't we just be glad they exist? (I want to believe it's the sharpening origin, it sounds more efficient.)

Vellum paper feels amazing; no wonder it has to be made from that smooth baby skin. Yikes.

Scrolls are also an obnoxious thing I'd like to have. For instance, I probably will have my will written in a large scroll to represent how dramatic I am.

As someone who used to be obsessed with Kpop, I think it is absolutely amazing that Hangul is such a technical alphabet. It reminds me of how humans have that disk they threw into outer space teaching aliens how to speak English via the shape of your mouth and lips and what position your tongue should go for certain sounds. Obviously this is the origin and is way more impressive especially at such an early point in our history. It makes me appreciate the language and those that write in it much more.

3 / the asian contribution

I appreciated that this chapter starts off crediting the Chinese with creations forcertain things that I remember throughout middle school and high school, history class always seemed to gloss over. Like where did these Europeans know which way was north and to figure they could kill others by putting some powder in their guns. Paper also always came out of nowhere, but I'm glad I learned its origin sooner than reading this.

I have learned that Chinese calligraphy was more important that painting before, but in a different way. As I'm in a lot of art classes, I was taught that Chinese painters would usually also be calligraphers and viewers could tell that the same person who painted the painting wrote the calligraphy as the style of the strokes would match. Thinking about it more now, it would make sense why it would be more important as calligraphy was something you had to memorize AND learn where as with painting, anyone could technically learn how to visualize.

Referencing my earlier rant about cylinder seals, chops are also something I enjoy and would want to have one of my own. Personally I like cooler colors better, so maybe I would choose to have a blue ink instead... but I know that's not the point. I think this would make more sense to be the origin of printing as it is constructing something once and being able to reproduce it over and over just with the use of ink.

The Chinese also invented playing cards! How interesting that they were called sheet dice and a unique aspect of graphic design that you never realize until you actually think about it.

I agree with the authors, it is odd that languages with thousands of characters would decide to use such a tedious method like movable type. On the bright side, we wouldn't have our lovely lazy Susan's if it weren't for this tedious type!

4 / illuminated manuscripts

As someone who appreciates shiny things (my weakness is holographic) it was exciting to learn about illuminated manuscripts. I'm just imagining the gold leaf making the page glow from a couple meters away. Those kind of things make me like to pretend stuff is magical. And for your title to be an illuminator? Yes please. AND to learn that these were insanely portable for a lazy human like me? Perfection.

Earlier this year I learned about ascenders and descenders in typography, so it was nice to know their origin as well as how lowercase and uppercase letters came from minuscule and majuscule.

I am thankful for the Celtics for deciding to put spaces between words. Reading (especially something I'm not interested in) would be a much more painful task ifeverythinglookedlikethis. No wonder humans were evolving so slowly before this point. Howdoyouknowwhenonewordendsandanotherbegins?

All of these illustrations next to the text on the manuscripts make me wonder if they were still using hieroglyphics, would they even bother to illustrate these giant paintings or would it seem (or at least appear) to look repetitive? I particularly enjoy the page from Ormesby Psalter, a Gothic manuscript on page 61; it's very beautifully done.

While I'm not a religious person, I think the concept of aniconism is very interesting. Also how you could view illustrations of living things, but only inside. Can't deny that their commitment to an intricate and complex design in the Islamic manuscripts were not short of beauty.

The Limbourg brothers' story was interesting to me: how they were all illuminated book designers, how they all died before finishing their most well known project, just short of when the duc de Berry died.

This chapter was the roughest for me. I feel that it was a bit long for my tastes and it gave me a bit of anxiety that with it being so long that the professor told us to focus more on chapter 1 than this chapter. That's my issue though and it was still pretty insightful.

post thoughts

I understand the reviews for this book that I read, about how the writing is something I'm going to have to get used to. It is definitely informative, but oh my it is a lot. Will definetly not be doing this journal so late on Sunday night. Sorry professor...

Source: Meggs' History of Graphic Design, 6th Edition, Philip B. Meggs and Alston W. PurvisJohn Wiley & Sons publishers.

#graphic design

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cottontail20 · 5 years ago

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In Happy Times, Our Love Does Grow, Chapter 1: The Unexpected Valentine

Summary: ScarletVision AU.

Wanda is a disgruntled employee at the Party Supply store in her local Mall.

Vision is a sweet single Dad raising his young daughter, Vivian

.As a series of Holidays and other celebrations repeatedly push the unlikely pair together, friendship, and slowly love, begins to grow.

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20601530/chapters/48913265

Wanda Maximoff needed a new job. To an outside observer, the job she had seemed perfect. Reasonable hours, decent pay, fair holiday rates.

The only problem with Wanda's job was the fact that she hated it.

Wanda worked in a Party Store in the local mall, and, as already stated, she hated it. 'Party' and 'Struggling twenty-something Sokovian immigrant' were not really concepts that meshed well together, particularly when blended with the string of other tragedies that had made up Wanda Maximoff's life so far.. The death of her parents at age ten, battling through childhood as orphans in the war-torn Sokovia, and finally, tragically losing her twin brother in an accident soon after they had migrated to America. Unfortunately, the 'struggling twenty-something' part of the equation meant she couldn't be picky regarding her employment options. So, Wanda went on hating her job.

She hated the way her face hurt after hours of forcing a smile for customers.

Hated her constantly changing uniform, usually themed to the next nearest Holiday.

Hated the name-tag that let customers act overly familiar with her when they asked for things.

Most of all, she hated the customers who raced in a few minutes before closing time, because, often, the things her store sold were an afterthought, or the last item on a list. --

It was the night before Valentine's Day. For a the last couple of weeks, Wanda had been forced to play the role of Cupid, wearing a pair of wings and clutching a cheap plastic bow, as she endured customers jokingly ask her to shoot them with her arrow.

The stores around her shutting up shop, and Wanda was about to do the same, when, like clockwork, a customer rushed in. It was a man probably a few years older than Wanda herself, with soft golden hair and dazzling blue eyes, clutching the hand of a little girl who was his double, with the same hair and eyes.

If Wanda hadn't been so annoyed by his arrival, she might have recognized that he was handsome, even if not her usual type. Then again, in the past those Wanda had thought were her type had often turned out to be of the 'Wham, bam, Thank you Ma'm' persuasion, so it might have been time to rethink what exactly her type was anyway.

The man seemed a bit frazzled, bright blue eyes scanning the store's selection of Valentine's Day cards.

Wanda waited, customer-service smile pasted on her face, as the minutes ticked by. Closing time came and went.

The little girl yawned loudly. The blonde man (the girl's Father, Wanda assumed) scooped her tenderly into his arms. She nuzzled her head into his shoulder as he continued browsing.

"Excuse me, sir" Wanda's jaw twitched, exhausted from her forced smiling. "Do you need any assistance? It's just that, I really do need to close up.."

"Oh!" He exclaimed in a soft British accent looked at his watch, jumping slightly. "I am so sorry, I lost track of the time.."

He looked as though he really was sorry, but Wanda had had so many after-closing customers linger and falsely claim to be sorry that she didn't really believe him. To his credit, though, he did hurry it up. One more quick scan of the cards and he made a selection, carrying it to the counter.

"Just the card, sir?"

"Yes, thank you.." He set the little girl down again so he could reach for his wallet. "Stay right there, Vivian, Daddy just has to pay the nice lady.."

"Okay, Daddy" The little girl, Vivian, apparently, yawned again, but stayed put.

Wanda, briefly and privately, thought that the blonde man looked a little on the young side to be a Dad, now she saw him up close.. But why did she care? It wasn't any business of hers. She just wanted the guy to pay up and get out so she could finish closing.

He counted out enough money for the card, along with a few extra dollars, placing it all in Wanda's hand.

"Keep the change, Miss. For your trouble.."

"That's really not necess.."

"I insist" He scooped up Vivian again, heading out of the store. "I really am sorry to have kept you so late. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"You too.." Wanda, quite surprised, watched after the man and his daughter as they left.

Vivian peeked back at Wanda over her Father's shoulder, raising a small hand and waving.

Without thinking, Wanda waved back, feeling the corners of her mouth involuntarily tug upwards in a smile.. A real smile.

Then she shook her head, and set about closing the store before anyone else could barge in. --

The following day, Valentine's Day proper, was actually a rather quiet one for Wanda's store, apart from the one or two idiots who had forgotten what day it was and ran in to buy cards and cheap love-heart teddy bears like it wouldn't be immediately obvious to their significant others that they had simply forgotten.

Quiet suited Wanda just fine. In fact, she preferred it.

She was currently sitting behind the counter, sucking on a heart-shaped lolly-pop (they were just going to get thrown out in a few weeks anyway), and flipping through a magazine (Huh. Brad and Jennifer were supposedly back together again), when she was interrupted by a strangely familiar British accent.

"Excuse me.."

Wanda looked up, eyes widening, lolly-pop falling from her mouth, when she saw the cute blonde Dad from the night before.. Why did she think of him as cute?!

"H-Hello.."

"I'm sorry to surprise you, Miss, uh.. may I ask your name?"

"I.. name-tag.."

"I see it" He said. He was clutching one of the single red roses sold all through the mall on that day. "I just thought it more polite to ask."

"Right" Wanda swallowed. "My.. Wanda. I'm Wanda."

"Hello, Wanda" He smiled. "My name is Victor, although everyone usually calls me Vision.. I was here with my daughter last night?"

"I remember.." Wanda nodded.

"I wanted to apologize again, for keeping you late.. Explain myself.."

"That's really not.."

"I feel I need to" Vision continued. "Vivian's Mother passed when she was very young. But every Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Birthdays.. I buy a card and we visit the cemetery, so Vivian can place it on her grave. It helps her feel close to her Mother, I think. This year though, I've been so busy with work, housekeeping, looking at schools for Viv when she starts Kindergarten.. I completely forgot about Valentine's Day, until she mentioned it to me.. So I panicked.."

"You did look a bit frazzled when you came in.." Wanda felt a slight lump in her throat, suddenly feeling rather guilty for being annoyed with Vision the night before. She knew how it felt to lose someone you loved. The pain and guilt of forgetting special days as time went on.

"I was" said Vision. "But that was no excuse to make what was clearly a long day for you even longer. You looked so tired.. a little sad. I wanted to apologize again, and say thank you.."

"You really don't.."

"So, thank you.." Vision ignored Wanda's protests, handing her the rose. "And Happy Valentine's Day, Wanda."

"Thank you.." Wanda carefully took the rose.

Vision's dazzling blue eyes sparkled, and he smiled, a wise, knowing smile.

"I hope things get better for you.." He lingered in the store for a few minutes, that felt much less awkward than they should have been, before glancing at his watch. "I need to go collect Viv from a play-date, but I'm sure I will be back here again, so.. See you?

"Yeah, see you.." Wanda watched Vision as he walked out of the store, and continued watching him until he was completely out of sight.

Her fingers, ran over the soft petals of the rose, and she felt that same tug of a smile at the corners of her lips. Then she shook her head and groaned, annoyed with herself.

Vision was a customer, no different than any of the others who passed through every day. She would probably never see him again, and even if she did, he wouldn't remember her.

There wasn't much about her worth remembering.

#scarlet vision #ScarletVision #scarlet vision au #scarletvision au #Scarlet Witch #wanda maximoff #vision mcu #human vision #wanda x vision #vision x wanda #viv vision #Avengers #MCU #avengers au #mcu au #holiday fic

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misshwrites · 5 years ago

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Unforeseen circumstances | MYG - Chapter 01

pairing: Min Yoongi x OC

genre/warnings: fluff, angst, yoongi having no chill whatsoever

words: 4181

Summary: They never had a chance to begin with, but they were young and in love, they thought they knew better.

Lee Yoonah’s parents had carefully planned her whole life from the moment of her conception. Min Yoongi was the one variable that they never counted on, but that was corrected in due time, just before their graduation in college, or so they thought.

Or: In which life doesn’t respect no one’s plans.

(please read the prologue first)

Chapter 01:

5 years later

Kim Seongjoo was a man with many admirable qualities. He was smart, accomplished in his field of work, had a good relationship with his family, could speak four languages, and was remarkably handsome.

Any woman would be honored to become his wife. At least that was what her mother kept repeating.

Unfortunately for Seongjoo, even when combined, those qualities weren’t enough to redeem his biggest two flaws, as assessed by Lee Yoonah.

The first and most relevant right then: he just stood her up on what was supposed to be their first 'private' date, the one time they would finally be able to meet without their respective families interference. The second, manageable one: she wasn’t attracted to him at all.

Rereading the text of the half-assed apology her 'fiancé apparent' sent her, Yoonah let out a resigned sigh and ordered a drink. She had left work earlier than usual, and dressed up prettily for this. However, truth be told, Yoonah had no tears to shed over Seongjoo's inability to follow his own schedule. In all sincerity, she was even pleased by this turn of events, thanks to which she could enjoy a couple of fancy drinks by herself.

She’s one gin and tonic and a half through the night, contemplating on using her father’s corporative credit card to pay for this frustrated business meeting when the universe gets bored with her passive attitude towards life and decides to shake things up.

He sees her first, all breath leaving his body. It has been five years since Min Yoongi last laid eyes on the woman that, in all honesty, was still the love of his life.

Time had been generous with her. The girly roundness of her features had subdued slightly into more defined lines, and her hair was shorter, the midnight black tresses stopping under her collarbones. Yoonah was even lovelier than he remembered, a fucking angel of misery, consuming his whole existence just by sitting there, decked in her ivory lace dress.

Yoongi stood frozen in the middle of his favorite bar, trying to discern of the wave of feelings that overwhelm his senses, and the fight or flight response kicked in. His brain takes charge over his body, deciding on flighting the scene. Fortunately, he manages just one step towards the door before the overly friendly, foreigner bartender, Mark, notices him and waves happily calling his full name.

“Min Yoongi-ssi!”

Yoonah’s head turns towards him so fast that he is sure she will experience some minor case of whiplash. Her drink almost slips from her hand, and her doe eyes widen comically. The whole scene makes his heart constrict in his chest.

Her panicked gaze is too much to ignore, so Yoongi suppresses the urge to run away and decides to seize the unexpected opportunity to hear her voice again. He controls his face and offers what he hopes to be a soft smile, waving absentmindedly at Mark to bring his usual whiskey while walking to the stool she occupies.

Yoonah’s mind works in overdrive, she can feel the blood rushing through her body at a speed that can’t be healthy.

Yoongi looks like the polished version of the boy she met in college, and the familiarity of his looks is almost too much for her heart to take.

His hair is bleached blonde again, but a shade lighter than the one she remembers. His ears are still pierced, but now he sports three silver hoops in each lobe. Instead of flannels, he’s wearing a pair of retro-styled horn-rimmed glasses, paired with a black turtleneck sweater and an elegant coat.

He throws a shy smile her way, and she feels like her ears will combust, but somehow manages to smirk back, raising her hand in greeting. She genuinely hopes for Yoongi to speak first because she can’t find her voice.

“Hey, Yoonah-ah… How’re you doing?!” He croaks, voice low, hand outstretched.

If someone were to tell her a few hours ago that the convenience date imposed on her would bail, and that she would end her night carrying a mildly awkward conversation with Min Yoongi, Yoonah would suggest for the person to have its head checked.

Not even in her wildest dreams, she would consider that a reunion with her ex-boyfriend would go so smoothly. She had spent a good part of those last four years musing over their parting words, the bitterness in his tear stained face when he accused her of not fighting for them. She meekly carried the weight of his disappointment, accepting the worst part of their breakup as a fact: Yoongi would never forgive her for not standing up against her parents. For selling them short.

But there he was, calmly catching up to the events of her life’s past years, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of his dainty lips whenever she averted his feline eyes as if the past did not affect him at all, as if their break up had resulted from a friendly agreement.

Maybe it felt like that to Yoongi by then, she mused. Yoonah had heard about his accomplishments, even amongst her stuffy colleagues at the magazine he was known, the ‘genius producer Suga’, still using the same pseudonym he adopted in their last year at university, a guy who was reinventing the rap and hip-hop scenario in Korea.

Perhaps after conquering everything he’d ever dreamt of, he saw what they had lived as non-consequential. The thought left a sour taste in Yoonah's mouth, and that was probably what prompted her to voice her worries. Either that or the arrival of her third drink of the night.

“Am I forgiven?” she blurted out just to immediately regret it and blush furiously.

Yoongi stopped in the middle of his update about the newest restaurant Kim Seokjin was opening, clearly surprised.

“Why would I have to forgive you for anything?” he asks in confusion, he reaches to touch her before thinking better about it and retreating.

“As I recall it, you weren’t very pleased with my choices the last time we spoke…” she answers without meeting his eyes.

“Ah...Yoonah-ah…”

Yoongi removes his glasses, momentarily hiding his face in his hand, ears flaming red. He really did not expect her to bring out the elephant in the room. He had this silly hope that maybe they would carry on talking about amenities and, in a perfect world, part ways as friends. It seemed like a solid plan in his mind. But then, Yoonah had made a habit of messing up with his plans from the moment when they first spoke.

“I’m very sorry about what I said back then… really. I hoped that maybe you had forgotten about my outburst...” He takes a long sip of his drink, signaling Mark for a refill. If they were discussing their past, he would need it.

“Look, it wasn’t your fault, Yoonah-ah… It took me a while to finally understand it, to accept that I was to blame... I knew about your parents' arrangement from the beginning and still wanted to try my luck at changing their ways… Fuck, truth be told, I begged you to give it a shot. You warned me, and still, I went out of my way to convince you that it would work out, didn’t I?” He sighs, touching his earrings in distress.

She stares in utter and complete shock, trying to make sense of the words that keep coming out of Yoongi’s mouth.

“I’m so sorry, Yoonah… I’ve never meant for you to carry this guilty alone…” He says, embarrassment coloring both his face and his voice. “Ah, shit, I should’ve known better…”

“You don’t hate me, then?” She finally answers, searching for confirmation in his eyes.

“Hate you? Of course not! God, Yoonah! I couldn’t hate you even when I wanted to!” Yoongi almost falls from his stool at the complete absurd of her question, this time his hand reaches for hers on its own accord, caressing her cold fingers absently.

The sudden lightness in her chest leaves Yoonah feeling slightly dizzy, and she convinces herself that this is the reason why she tightens her grip on Yoongi’s hand, relishing in the warmth of his touch.

For the past four years the memory of the hurt and despise on his eyes during their last meeting was such a constant weight in her conscience that Yoona simple forgot how it was to live without the worry.

The producer could almost see the worry being lifted from her shoulders, the light returning to her eyes warming his insides, feeding his urge to simply hold her closer. Even if they were never to talk again after this night, Yoongi felt grateful that he had the chance to correct this misunderstanding.

That warmth is what prompts him to finally ask the question that had kept him awake for countless nights throughout those years.

“Have you ever heard any of my music, Yoonah-ah?”

His guiltiest pleasure was trying to talk to her using the idols voices, sending encrypted messages through his lyrics, with the foolish hope that she would listen to them and maybe, by some miracle, try and reach out for him.

It was a long shot, and it wasn’t a healthy habit, he was aware of that. Kim Namjoon, one of his best friends and co-worker, had noticed it years ago and tried to convince Yoongi that it was a masochist practice, but the producer just argued that he couldn’t really control his inspirations. In the end, he won the argument. After all, the music he made from his own angst was recognized as his best and awarded accordingly.

The true shock for him was seeing hurt flooding Yoonah’s eyes at his question, and he watched anxiously as she fidgeted with her hair and took a long sip of her drink before finally whispering.

“I’ve listened to the first one… Truth be told, I’ve been avoiding them ever since…”

Yoongi was sure it would have been better had her slapped him. He would have her listening to some of his raciest lyrics and being pissed any day rather than the one song she admitted to knowing.

But of course the universe could spare him no mercy, and amongst the three years worth of desperate love pleas he sent her way, the one message that reached Yoonah was the raw note written by this freshly heartbroken version of himself, filled with misdirected anger.

The lyrics to that particular song haunted him quite often. It was the demo that got him signed up as a producer in his present company, the creation that opened all the doors for him, and yet, the one he regretted daily. Because, at the end of the day, he knew Lee Yoonah, and dreaded the exact scenario he's now facing: The one person he never really meant to hurt took his harsh words by heart.

Yoongi reaches for his phone without a second thought, while the fingers of his free hand start roaming Yoonah's forearm in an unstudied caress, seeking to soothe her pain at the best of his ability, all property be damned.

Yoonah finally raises her head at that, all nervous ends on her body jumping into high alert while her eyes stay trained on his healing touch, so familiar even after all those years.

Unaware of that, Yoongi focuses on opening his Evernote and scrolls through the app, a trademark frown signaling his concentration until it's replaced by a short-lived satisfied expression, that turns into gravity once he looks back towards the woman in front of him.

“Yoonah, I need you to know that I don’t really feel like the boy who wrote that song. I was hurting, and I was lost… We had so much planned. We were going to spend the weekend with my family so they could get to know you better, remember? Against my better judgment, I had this whole plan for our lives together… And suddenly everything changed…” He scratches his ear, voice getting softer “At the time I felt like someone stole my future, and I couldn’t see that you’re wronged as well… I regret it so much.”

At that, he slides the phone towards Yoonah. She immediately recognizes the title displayed at the top of the document. She has conditioned herself to check the team behind every single song released by the artists signed under the same label as Yoongi before listening to them, feeling like it was always better to be safe than sorry. This one is fairly new, a ballad from a popular solist, that her colleagues from the magazine raved about for a few weeks.

“I’ve tried to apologize, you know? I’ve written you so many lyrics over the years, using other peoples' voices to tell you everything I should've told you that night…" His eyes pierce hers in an almost desperate plea, and his fingers grip slightly at her sleeve’s fabric "I know I have no right to ask you this, but please read at least one of them, to understand what I meant. Just this one?”

Deep down she knows it isn’t a good idea, that this whole conversation is actually a terrible idea, but she completely ignores this notion. Because Yoonah knows she doesn’t want to live another minute with the belief that the lyrics of his first famous song were Yoongi’s last words to her.

Her eyes scam the lyrics faster than her heart and brain can process them, and she needs to read the whole thing thrice before finally absorbing Yoongi’s words. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, but surely enough, it wasn’t anything as raw as the emotions bared on the screen.

The man portrayed by the song dwells with being unable to forget someone, he struggles with his hope of finally meeting that person again and his knowledge that this would hurt him. He regrets deeply that he’d tainted the memories of their relationship, and he wonders if he can be forgiven. There was too much left unsaid and he fears it is too late for apologies.

When Yoonah finishes her reading, Yoongi is staring at her, anxiety written in every line of his body. Sometime along the way he had retrieved his hand, that now fidgets with the turtle-neck from his sweater.

“This was inspired by me?” She finally asks, her eyes stinging suspiciously.

“No. It was entirely written for you.” He goes back to twisting his earring “Too much?”

“No… Maybe? I just wasn’t expecting this at all… I don’t know what to say…” and it’s true, she feels lost, it’s too much.

The silence stretches between them and she goes back at scanning the lyrics, desperate for something to anchor her turbulent thoughts. Yoongi awaits in apparent patience, his impassive mask enough to fool anyone watching them from afar.

“You really don’t remember our last kiss?” Yoonah finally questions, embarrassment and incredulity coloring her features, and Yoongi is clearly surprised by that turn in the subject.

“No… Do you?”

“Yes… It was on the day my mother gave me the ultimatum. You were finishing your demo and had been locked at the studio for fourteen hours, remember?” Yoongi nods, eager to retrieve at least this bit of memory.

“I stopped by to drop some food before my lunch with her, we talked for a bit, and I kissed you goodbye before leaving… It wasn’t anything special.”

She looks away after that, because the longing on his feline eyes becomes too much for her body to handle.

“That was really anticlimactic, wasn’t it? I was hoping for something more remarkable…” Yoongi blurts, taking a sip of his drink, a bittersweet smirk adorning his face.

Yoonah surprises even herself by snorting at his antics. He was right, though, it wasn’t a last kiss worth of the kind of passionate relationship they had.

“I wasn’t expecting for it to be a last kiss! I would have done better if it was planned.” She quips, boldly holding his gaze.

“Really?”

She raises her eyebrows, as if that was the most outrageous doubt he could have. It was.

“You would have to prove it to me. You know I’m a skeptic at heart…” his half smile doesn’t waiver, even though his ears color once again.

“That’s not a good joke…”

As she speaks, Yoongi calmly slides closer to her, and she can see that the glint in his eyes is anything but playful.

“It isn’t a joke, you’ll really have to show me.”

“Do you want to drive me crazy?” Yoonah feels her face heating just from the strength of his gaze, and wonders if she really wants to deny him.

“I mean it… I am not really asking for much, am I? I just want the memory of our last kiss, it’s something that has been haunting me.”

He can pinpoint the exact moment when she hesitates, and shamelessly uses it in his favor.

“Please? So we both leave this bar with one regret less?”

Yoonah’s doe eyes widen, but she knows the battle would be lost even if she felt like fighting it.

“You are playing dirty…” she says, but nods slightly at him.

Yoongi smiles with the satisfaction of a cat that had just found a bowl of unattended cream, dropping to his feet and taking a step into her personal space.

“Here? It’s a crowded bar, and you’re never fond of PDA, Min Yoongi.”

“I’m willing to make an exception tonight.”

She can’t help smiling, especially when his fingers lightly caress her face.

“Make it count…”

At first, his lips move softly against hers, the feeling comforting and familiar, as if only a couple of days had passed since they last met. This doesn’t last long, as Yoonah changes their pace, tongue tracing the seam of his lips, hungrily demanding more. Yoongi smiles against her mouth and concedes, while sliding his hand to her waist, pulling her as close as possible while in public.

She is also the one who breaks the kiss, face red and breath slightly erratic. Her fingers are still clutched to the front of his sweater, and she is sure they have an audience, but Yoongi seems unaware of their surroundings and is clearly unsatisfied because he only takes one deep breath before kissing her again.

This time the kiss is hot and demanding, and she instantly drowns in the feeling. Yoongi cards his hands on her hair, and when he separates their lips, he holds her gaze with inhuman intensity, like he’s trying to leave an impression. As if one was still needed.

They stand like that for a while, until the sound of Mark carefully delivering Yoongi’s drink order breaks them out of their haze. It’s also a clear reminder for Yoonah of where she is, and why.

“I had an arranged date. That’s why I’m here alone… He stood me up.”

Anyone else would have been at least hurt by her words, but Yoongi only tilts his head, eyes fixed on her now swollen lips. He understands the purpose of this seemingly impromptu confession. Yoongi had played that game with her already, back when they were still a casual fling, Yoonah would always conjure obstacles for him to jump whenever she felt too emotionally exposed, as a reminder that they couldn’t be together.

“One of your parents candidates?” He asks, taking a sip of the glass left by the barman.

“The chosen one, as far as I was told…” She answers, looking away. Her voice almost falters, but she finds out that it’s easier to keep it together if he isn’t looking straight into her soul.

This gets him, and producer stays quiet for a moment that seems to stretch into infinity.

“Lucky bastard…” He finally says.

“My father says he has had enough of me rejecting everyone and stalling… Apparently, I’m not getting any younger as well…”

“That’s the shittiest reasoning I’ve ever heard… And I work for the entertainment industry.” He still sounds bored, but the ominous gleam of his eyes tell the truth. “Do you even know the guy? Do you like him?”

She emits a dejected sound that, he supposes, was meant to be a chuckle.

“I’ve met him and his family… He looks decent. I was told that he’s graduated with honors and is very accomplished at his job. He seems... okay.”

“Well, I am all of those things, and I had the advantage of harboring sincere feelings towards you… But I suppose the golden spoon is a tiebreaker, right?”

“Min Yoongi, don’t be a dick! I wouldn’t be drinking here alone if I was happy about the arrangement.” She spits her words at him, finally meeting his gaze.

He threads on dangerous waters, and he knows, but Yoonah’s last statement made him feel like his reckless younger self. For the first time in many years, he has true indignation fueling his temper. That and, given, an unhealthy amount of jealousy.

“Right… I was rude… I believe congratulations are in order, right?”

Anyone who met Lee Yoonah after her college days, the lovely young woman, efficiently balancing her job at a prestigious news magazine and her master’s, would classify her as docile. Very few had witnessed the temper and sarcasm that gave color to her real personality, traits her parents taught her to hide so well.

Maybe that was why Yoongi always had a penchant for bringing it to the surface. It probably aroused him, hearing her swear under her breath while staring up at him. He must feel very especial.

“Fine! Do you really want for this to end in animosity? Suit yourself!” She slides from the stool to leave, but he holds her elbow, a determined look on his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be a jerk to you… I just got mad at the situation.” He seems repentant, and when he reaches to tuck her hair behind her ear, she leans into his touch, instantly softened.

“I’m mad at it as well, Yoon… But you know as well as I do how my life works, It’s all part of a tightly scheduled agenda. I’ve learned how to live with it long ago, so I suppose I can learn how to live with this arranged marriage as well.” His hand is roaming in a soothing pattern, having traveled from her hair to her shoulder and then down to lace their fingers.

“I will still be missing you, though…” She confesses at least, and his eyes widen. This night has really turned into something unexpected.

He doesn’t know what prompts him to actually voice the crazy suggestion made by his brain. Maybe it was that rediscovered jealousy. Or perhaps it was the wishing tone coloring her words. Either way, it certainly had something to do with the familiar longing for her, rooted deeply in his core.

“Tell me something… Is there anything else scheduled for tonight on this hellish planner of yours?”

Yoonah is surprised by his line of questioning, and even more by the darkness she finds in his eyes when they meet hers.

“Why?”

He takes another sip of his drink, trying to drown the voices of warning on the back of his conscience.

“As I see it, you’re about to sign up for a loveless marriage with a man you don’t seem to care about… Don’t you think you deserve at least a proper hen night? I mean -- If you want it, I’m offering myself.”

Yoonah is glad she isn’t drinking anything when he finishes because she was sure to choke on the liquid while she spurts for air.

“You can’t be serious!”

Yoongi just nods, absently wetting his lips while waiting for her answer. Yoonah is sure her blood is boiling inside of her veins. Because she knows that Yoongi can read her just as easily as she can read him, even after all of this time he still knows exactly what makes her tick.

And right now, she knows his wanting is reflected on her own eyes. Their kisses having awoken the latent hunger she’d come to associate to the producer. And maybe giving in to this feeling and listening to her heart’s desires makes her a masochist, but at least she isn’t alone.

“This night was scheduled until half an hour before you’ve arrived. Right now, I’m on my leisure time so… What do you have in mind?” She finally answers, feeling her face flush from more than just embarrassment and alcohol.

Yoongi’s response is a huge gummy smile, far too sweet to match the owner of the hand fondling the skin of her tight just above the hem of her dress, his body expertly angled to hide his indiscretions from the rest of the patrons in the bar.

When he talks again, it’s in a conspiratorial whisper that has shivers running up her spine and heat spiraling through her whole body.

“Well… Can I persuade you to go completely off the record and come home with me?”

#min yoongi #bts fanfiction #UC MYG #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fanfic #oc #bts au #suga fanfic #myg x oc #bts

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sebeth · 6 years ago

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Young Justice: Independence Day, Fireworks, and Stopover

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

My goal is to re-watch the Young Justice series and re-read the comics before the January 4th launch of Young Justice: Outsiders. Let’s begin.

Episode 1: “Independence Day”

July 4th: We begin, appropriately enough, on the United States’ Independence Day. The title will have multiple meanings by the end of the first two episodes: the kids’ semi-independence from their mentors and Superboy’s freedom from the Cadmus Project.

Do cold villains hate the Fourth of July?

Dick is the only Robin who would have laughter as a trademark.

“Juniors doing this for attention?” – One of my favorite parts of this series is the depth of knowledge for the characters of the DC Universe – even the obscure ones. The current Icicle is a “junior” – his father was the original Icicle of the Golden Age era. As a huge fan of the B through D list characters, I have a huge appreciation for anyone who remembers the small details.

Kaldur was an interesting choice as he was a new but fairly obscure character when Young Justice debuted. Garth would have been the more logical choice as he was a founding member of the Titans along with Dick, Roy, and Wally.

I admit I wondered why the series was called Young Justice because all I was seeing were the founding members of the Titans at this point (minus Garth and Donna).

“You’ll chat it up with the cops, the bystanders, with Cold even.” – One sentence reveals so much of Barry’s personality.

“I knew we’d be the last ones here.” – Again, a Barry trait.

“Speedy is Green Arrow’s sidekick.” “Well, that makes no sense.” – Accurate.

“Why isn’t anyone just whelmed?” – Dick’s mangling of the English language begins.

“02” – The assigned numbers correspond with the members joining the team. The way to my heart is the small details.

Roy has a huge hissy even by his impatient, hot-headed nature. We discover the reason later in the series.

“We could make an exception.” – Really, the Justice League wouldn’t allow their proteges on the Watchtower? Why?

Zatara and Wotan! Yay, obscure characters for the win!

“Glad you didn’t bring you know who?” Foreshadowing!

The boys invade Cadmus in all its glory: Guardian, G-Nomes, Genomorphs, Dubbilex, and, of course, Superboy.

“Dr. Desmond” is a hint for his upcoming transformation. The “Blockbuster” label confirms it.

Wally is a science nerd. Makes sense with Barry as a mentor.

“File KR” – another hint.

“Sub-level 52”. – DC does love its 52.

Superboy! Looking more like the Teen Titans-era version than the early, scrawny, fresh out of the pod version.

Hack! – Tim is typically the Robin most associated with computers. To be fair, the Internet was pretty much non-existent when Dick and Jason were Robin.

Superboy, unsurprisingly, curb-stomps the team.

Episode 2: “Fireworks”

First appearance of the Light aka the Cadmus Board of Directors.

“Clone them.” – We later discover that one sidekick has already been cloned.

Dubbilex, the sneaky traitor, awakens the boys.

“Project: Sidekick” – Desmond is so imaginative when it comes to naming projects.

“He can talk.”

“Yes, he can.”

“Not like I said it.

Wally, listen to Dick and Kaldur and keep your mouth shut.

Kaldur is clearly the wisest of the original group.

“Batcave’s crowded enough.” – Well, it’s been said three is a crowd.

“What would Superman do?” – Everyone should apply this standard to their decisions.

“Don’t you give me orders either.” – I can see why it would be a sensitive issue – his whole life (all 16 weeks) has been controlled by others.

“You can leap tall buildings in a single bound. Still cool.” – Sweet Wally being supportive.

“Don’t apologize. This is perfect.” – That’s how you know Dick was raised by the Batman.

“I finally have room to move.” – Yeah, speed is more useful when you have to space to run.

“Grab something from Project Blockbuster.” – If you were familiar with the villain, you knew what was about to happen.

“The Genomorph hero.” – Unfortunately, this bit wasn’t followed up on.

“Everyone back.” – Protective Guardian for the win. Sadly, he’s outmatched by Blockbuster.

“Got your nose.” – Gross!

“You incredible bulk.” – Shout out to the competition.

Oh, look at protective Superboy and Aqualad covering their more delicate teammates.

The League arrives with Superman taking point.

Not loving Hawkgirl/woman’s costume.

Poor Kal breaks Superboy’s heart. Bad Kal! I understand Clark’s upset and confusion but don’t take it out on the newborn child.

“All 52 levels.” – Again, DC loves the 52.

“Why let them tell us what to do. It’s simple. Get on board or get out of the way.” – Superboy declares the true mission statement of Young Justice.

Red Tornado as team supervisor is a nod to the comic book version of Young Justice.

I did like the addition of Black Canary as team trainer. It’s a nice nod to Dinah’s combat skills which Gail Simone spent most of the 2000s building up.

“This is the Martian Manhunter’s niece.” – Another surprise choice as Miss Martian wasn’t very well known in the comics. Never will a character start out so cute and then devolve into creepiness.

M’gann’s obsession with Superboy begins immediately. We’ll discover why later in the season.

Young Justice #1: Stopover

The issue begins immediately after Superboy declares “Get on board or get out of the way.”

“Give me three days” Batman responds.

The group then realizes Superboy has nowhere to go in the meantime.

Kid Flash brings Superboy to Central City. Wally explains the situation to his parents. There is a cute moment when Mrs. West corrects Wally’s grammar: “Robin, Aqualad, and I…”

Superboy interjects with a “You weren’t there.”

Cadmus clearly didn’t instruct Superboy in conversation nuances.

Mrs. West informs Wally that he “leads a very strange life. But we’re use to it. Largely.”

Wally’s parents are way more understanding and supportive than they are in the main DC Universe.

Wally’s parents ask Superboy’s name. Wally responds “I call him Supey. I think he likes it.” Conner doesn’t look like he likes it.

We stop in on Kaldur and Arthur’s return journey to Atlantis.

Kaldur: “We meant no disrespect.”

Arthur: “I would not be much of a king if I did not allow my subjects freedom of expression. Especially when their words carry such wisdom.”

Somewhere, Garth is wondering why he never had this type of relationship with Arthur.

Conner wonders “Think Superman knows I’m here?”

Wally awkwardly reassures Conner that Superman knows he’s in Central City.

Wally awakens the next day to find Conner sleeping upright in his closet. Conner informs Wally that he is not “used to sleeping in a bed. Your closet reminded me of my Cadmus pod. Except for the funny smells.”

Poor Conner. A bed shouldn’t be a foreign concept.

The boys spend the day vegging in front of the tv. Conner is very bored. Each panel has Wally eating something different: a bag of chips, pizza, and a bucket of fried chicken.

Nice nod to Wally’s metabolism.

Late in the day a card arrives with a credit cart addressed to Wally “for expenses.”

Superboy wonders if it’s from Superman.

Wally vaguely confirms it’s from Superman with a “who else could it be from” even though he’s clearly aware it was sent by Batman.

Wally is so sweet – he keeps trying to reassure that, of course, Superman would care about Conner’s location and well-being.

Batman is also a very sweet Bat-Dad this issue. Bruce would deny it but he was consistently sweet and supportive to Conner in the first season. None of the other Leaguers thought Conner would need money to buy basic essentials like clothes. Or that the middle-class Wests would need financial support to care for Superboy. Wally’s appetite alone has to put a serious dent in their income.

If Wally hadn’t offered, I’m positive Bruce would have taken Conner back to the Batcave. If for no other reason than Alfred wouldn’t have been thrilled with the idea of an underage child being left alone. Batman would have also thought of the risks of leaving Conner on his own – Cadmus operatives could have tried to regain custody of a lone Superboy.

The boys head to the mall to shop for clothes. A nice easter egg is the name of the store the boys enter: “Forever Sixteen”. Conner was genetically locked in that age for some time in the comics.

Conner buys multiple copies of the same black shirt. Not someone who’s big on fashion.

We bop over to Gotham where Dick is impatiently wondering what Bruce is doing in the Batcave – it’s been almost two and a half days!

Alfred patiently reminds Dick that when one says three days, one means three days.

Poor Alfred has the patience of a saint. Imagine what the poor man endures on a daily basis: Bruce in all his glory; hyper, energetic Dick, Jason’s explosiveness, Damian’s demanding arrogance, and Stephanie’s boisterousness. Tim, Cassie, and Duke are the quieter children. They don’t cause Alfred as much fuss.

Back to the mall where Wally and Conner encounter Tommy and Tuppence, the Terror Twins – the same twins that Conner and M’gann impersonate at Belle Reve.

Flash and Superman arrive on the scene of the fight. Conner mutters a single “Superman” before Clark flees from the scene. To be fair, he was pursuing the Terror Twins but he couldn’t even offer a “hi” before he left?

Flash tells the boys to go home. Barry will pick the boys up in the morning because “Batman has made his decision”.

Honestly, Batman made his decision as soon as he told the kids “three days”. Bruce simply needed the three days to implement his plan.

Conner asks Wally if “Superman will be there tomorrow”. Wall responds “Uh, sure, you know…if there’s no emergency somewhere.”

Conner’s downcast face shows he doesn’t believe Wally’s statement.

Conner asks Wally “Why’d you invite me to stay with you?”

“Well, un, Aqualad lives underwater. And the Batcaves’s kind of a big secret. So I figured it’d be cool for us to hang.”

Conner smiles after Wally’s statement.

Wally is so sweet and supportive in this issue. It also shows that Wally is very trusting. He is inviting Superboy into his home with his civilian parents – and he knows how easily Conner curbstomped the entire team. But Wally knows Conner is one of the good guys and doesn’t even hesitate to bring him to Central City.

The issue ends with the final moments of the second episode.

#Young Justice #Superboy #Kid Flash #Robin #Aqualad

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