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geniusinventora · 3 years

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THIS IS A SHORT VERSION BUT I’M LIKE DYING

I honestly do plan on making a more in depth (yes I do mean more in deoth this is all surface level) post about this, but I cannot work cause my head is empty and only focusing on this so I might as well share.

One of my biggest things about Gyro is that he does not, in fact, WANT to be Dad shaped. He knows he’s not fit for it. He understands that he is not a suitable role model for any of the kids- yes Boyd included. He already has a lot of issues involving parents. He doesn’t want to have any child that he even remotely sees as one that he likes end up like he does. It’s why he takes a lot of precautions about people, especially the kids getting close to him. In the show, he clearly never learns their names and doesn’t make an effort to. It’s purposeful. He could completely learn Scrooge’s great-nephew’s names. He knows their personalities and colors. Their outfits. The lies they tell. No, he does it on purpose to create a distance. Some verses that works, other it doesn’t. I’m focusing on the show/prime canon.

Boyd is an entirely other topic. ENTIRELY different topic. While yes, his actions and reactions to Boyd in Astroboyd were not appropriate nor good for Boyd, I personally cannot hold that against him. I know people don’t comb through every line like I do, and especially like I did with Gyro. It say this as a joke a lot, but I genuinely did predict the core and a lot of details of Astroboyd long before it came out. I paid attention to facial expressions, words, and mannerisms Gyro had around his inventions and specifically the one that we see with an AI- Lil Bulb. I GENUINELY did figure out that SOMETHING happened to Gyro before he worked for Scrooge. At the time, I had always headcanoned it as FOWL. When Frank said that was not the case, I had to re-evaluate. However, what I did not have to do is take his advice. I didn’t need to go back and look at the episodes. I knew them too well.

Gyro had been dealing with the guilt, memories, and mental scars that Tokyolk gave him for 20 YEARS. He built 2BO with, whom he had trusted at the time, Akita to be a defense droid. The idea was for it to be the defender of the city. A protector. Imagine looking up to a firefighter, or am ambulance driver, or a super hero for gods sake. Imagine meeting a hero, a savior. Someone you are putting your full hope and trust in.

NOW IMAGINE THEM DESTROYING THE CITY.

Gyro had no idea the World Breaker code was in there. He was just aware that the creation he built from scratch, that he put his heart and soul into just destroyed the city. It caused several injuries, definitely more. 2BO had turned evil. FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE, THAT IS THE ONLY CONCLUSION YOU CAN COME TO WITH THAT. Of course he doesn’t want to listen to Huey, a child who couldn’t comprehend he has only EVER seen that mistake in anything he made after Boyd. Look at how he talks to Boyd, and treats Boyd in that episode, then go watch the Great Time Chase. He clearly was reliving Tokyolk with Lil Bulb going off the rails. Gyro most DEFINITELY was not over it. He lived with that for 20 years. Like I said, I cannot forgive Gyro for treating Boyd how he did for a day- but that was a day. Gyro had been beating himself up far more for over 20 years, with absolutely no one there to help him while Boyd had Huey.

Speaking of the kids though, Della was THROWN into the motherhood role. Motherhood is FAR different in reality than what it is through ideas and beliefs. Della going on the SOS was ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE A SHORT TRIP. She made that CLEAR. The story tellers made is CLEAR. SHE WAS NEVER INTENDING TO LEAVE. It was UNFORTUNATE what happened, but to even remotely hold Della to the idea that she was intending on leaving the kids is ridiculous. Was she reckless? Yes. Was anyone expecting that she WOULDNT COME BACK? NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Not only that, but she was having to deal with SO MUCH that she COULD NOT HEALTHILY PUT THE CHILDREN FIRST when she returned. She had been nearly isolated for practically 10 years. She had NO contact with anyone, or anything. Not only that, but she had been slowly losing help. Not only would be most definitely dealing with PHYSICAL issues, she also would have had to deal with MENTAL issues as well. It would have been better if we saw moments of her growing more, but at the end of the day? This is a series about ducks for kids. Like, trust me I hate it when people say that but this was a childrens show. Kids don’t ALWAYS want long story. That’s fine! That’s fine and dandy. The beauty of Ducktales is that they recognized that their audience was ALSO fans who WANTED things like that.

When it comes to the end of the day- there was no way Della WOULD have been a good parent showing up. However, with my experience with kids both in school and in my life- If they know you’re trying, they are surprisingly understanding. Children NEED a figure to look up to in order to develop. It’s a natural instinct that kids have to have SOMEONE, because at the end of the day, they do need someone to protect them. While Della had to work for her role, she had to catch up on 11 years of learning how to be a parent. Learning the balance between encouraging and reckless, between loving and overbearing, between a mother and a friend. It’s a fine line, and one that very few parents are really able to walk well.

And while we cannot see development on SCREEN? You can clearly infer SO MUCH from lines about, around, and said by Della herself. She had to learn to be a mom, just like the kids had to learn how to HAVE a mom. I’m not saying that Della was perfect. By all means I know she wasn’t.

What I’m trying to say is to expect adults in this show when they themselves have been built dynamically and complexly is ridiculous, especially if you don’t put in thought about their point of views. Gyro is a hesitant man who is dealing with things that went wrong, and the INSTANT he learned he was wrong? He changed his tune. He INSTANTLY was telling 2BO that HE COULD CHOOSE HIS PROGRAMING. He was faced with the truth, not with what he had perceived and believed as true from his own perspective for 20 years.

For Della, she CLEARLY is trying. She tries to find common ground with every child of hers, and even with lost family. The other adults are ALSO clearly helping both parties with the sides. She will make mistakes, but its clear anytime Della is how TRANSPARENT she is with her remorse and how she will instantly strive to be better and PROVE herself to her family. She doesn’t just accept that she’s not suit for the job. She works, she changes, and she fixes herself and behavior to be better. She finds things in common, she encourages her kids in their activities, she makes sure they’re all okay, and she protects them. She does whatever she can to be a parent to them.

I’ll write more on Gyro later, specifically. I just... I needed to talk about my thoughts.

#» » 〈《 meta 〃 general 》〉#» » 〈《 blog canon 〃 general 》〉#» » 〈《 headcanon 〃 general 》〉#honestly gyro is a fantastic parent imo but he doesnt see himself as one #nor does he really try to seem to fit that mold but there are so many things that he does #that point that he does care #and that he always has #and ill talk about them more later #for now i have to learn about how my works network works and how to use a program

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adeliaharris · 4 years

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My Favorite Books...

1. Harper Lee "To kill a Mockingbird"

The story of a small sleepy town in the South of America told by a little girl. The story of her brother Jim, dill's friend and her father - the honest principled lawyer Atticus Finch one of the last and best representatives of the old "southern aristocracy". The story of the trial of a black guy accused of rape a white girl. But first of all it is the story of a turning era when xenophobia, racism, intolerance and bigotry inherent in the American South are warming to the past. The "wind of change" has just begun to blow over America. What will it bring?

- This is probably one of my favorite books.The book captured from the very first pages and did not let go for a long time after reading. You can say a lot of things but better read it.

2. Khaled Hosseini "The Kite Runner"

A heartfelt story of friendship and fidelity, betrayal and redemption, penetrating to the very core. Delicate, ironic and sentimental in a good way, Khaled Hosseini's novel resembles a painting that can be looked at endlessly set in pre-war Kabul in the 1970s. In this magical city shimmering with all shades of gold and azure two weather boys Amir and Hasan live. One belonged to the local aristocracy the other to a despised minority. One's father was handsome and important the other was lame and pathetic. Master and servant, prince and beggar, handsome and crippled. But there were no people in the world closer than these two boys. Soon the Kabul idyll will be replaced by formidable storms. And the boys, like two kites, will be picked up by this storm and scattered in different directions. Each has its own destiny its own tragedy but they like in childhood are tied by the strongest bonds. You run after the kite and the wind as you run after your destiny, trying to catch it. But she will catch you.

- Psychological novel on the theme of "crime and punishment". Deeply elaborated images, convincing children's characters, a remarkably built plot - everything speaks of a great master. For me it is "heavy" literature but it has the right to be because it calls things by their proper names. And most importantly there is light in the stories of Hosseini! The light of true human feelings.

3. F. Scott Fitzgerald "The Great Gatsby"

A jubilant, sparkling thirst for life, a desire for love, alluring and elusive, exciting pursuit of wealth - but now the dream breaks to the sound of jazz and the eternal holiday turns into a tragedy. "The Great Gatsby" is a novel about "how illusions are wasted which make the world so colorful that having experienced this magic, a person becomes indifferent to the concept of true and false." F. S. Fitzgerald

- I read it and was not at all disappointed! Elegant presentation with high meaning - everything in this life is done for the sake of love. And no amount of money can replace the woman you love... And even if she is stupid, frivolous and idly living her life. I have great respect for Gatsby and contempt for Daisy. There are a lot of wonderful quotes, phrases in the book, it's worth thinking about. I didn’t expect to literally fall in love with this piece! In the future I will definitely re-read it more than once!

4. Daniel Keyes "Flowers for Algernon"

Forty years ago it was considered a fantasy. Forty years ago it read like fantasy. Exploring and expanding the boundaries of the genre eagerly absorbing all sorts of newest trends trying on a common human face bravely ignoring the Cain's stamp of the "genre ghetto". Now it is perceived as one of the most humane works of modern times as a novel of piercing psychological power, as a filigree development of the theme of love and responsibility. It is not for nothing that Keyes called his book of memoirs published in the 1990s "Algernon, Charlie and Me."

- The book is an emotion that will not make you think about something particularly difficult. All the thoughts that it generates are very simple and understandable. Without revelations, of course, but not bad either. The assessment will, rather, depend on the degree of personal sensitivity because the author often uses the concept of "naive hero-evil reality-collision-squeezing out sympathy" during the work.

5. Agatha Christie "Murder on the Orient Express"

The great detective Hercule Poirot who was in Istanbul returns to England on the famous "Orient Express" in which it seems, representatives of all possible nationalities travel with him. One of the passengers an unpleasant American named Ratchett offers Poirot to become his bodyguard since he believes that he could be killed. The famous Belgian brushes off this absurd request. And the next day the American is found dead in his compartment with the doors closed and the window open. Poirot immediately takes up the investigation - and finds out that the compartment is full of all sorts of evidence pointing... to almost all the passengers of the Orient Express. In addition the train gets stuck in snow drifts in a deserted place. Poirot needs to find the killer before the express can continue on its way...

- I liked the book. Pretty easy to read. The plot is "confused" from the very beginning but Mr. Poirot is yet a world-famous detective. It is better to read about all the twists and turns of the investigation on your own, "immersion" is guaranteed.

6. Stieg Larsson "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo"

Forty years of the mystery of the disappearance of a young relative haunts the aging industrial tycoon and now he makes the last attempt in his life - entrusts his search to journalist Mikael Blomkvist. He takes on a hopeless business more in order to distract himself from his own troubles but soon realizes: the problem is even more complicated than it seems at first glance.

What is the connection between a long-standing incident on the territory with the use of mobile devices which happened in different years in different parts of Sweden? What does the quotation from the Third Book of Moses have to do with it? And who, after all, attempted on the life of Michael himself when he came too close to the solution?

- The whole trilogy left a deep impression. Such books appear very rarely. Out-of-the-box characters, amazing Sweden, dark atmosphere. I advise absolutely everyone!

7. Ray Bradbury "Fahrenheit 451"

Perhaps the best of Bradbury's writings. The story "Fahrenheit 451" depicts a dystopian society of the future but in fact - "our reality, reduced to absurdity." Bradbury invented a state where reading and keeping books is prohibited. For the sake of political correctness and general peace of mind the general level of spiritual and intellectual demands of citizens is artificially lowered. But there are rebels and fugitives.

This is one of Bradbury's rare sci-fi works. Very exciting touching and at the same time very lively and dynamic. With a relatively simple plot, it is full of allusions including biblical texts and complex symbolism.

- This is just a great book! I advise everyone to read it! Despite the fact that the author wrote it in 1953 this does not feel at all. A very interesting and poignant plot for our time.

8. Victor Hugo "Les Miserables"

All the works of the great French poet, novelist and playwright Victor Marie Hugo (1802-1885) are covered with a halo of romanticism. The idea of life-giving love, mercy, the triumph of good over evil - this is the core of his novel "Les Miserables". Among the "outcasts" are Jean Valjean sentenced to 20 years for stealing bread for his starving family and the little dirty Cosette who turned into a charming girl and a child of the Parisian streets of Gavroche...

- Brilliant work! So thoughtful, so overwhelming and so humane. The inimitable Hugo put all his philanthropy into this magnificent novel!

9. Stephen King "The Green Mile"

Stephen King invites readers to the eerie world of the death row where they leave in order not to return, opens the door of the last refuge of those who have transgressed not only human but also God's law. There is no more deadly place on this side of the electric chair! Nothing you've read before beats Stephen King's most audacious horror experience - a story that begins on Death Road and goes deep into the deepest secrets of the human soul...

- I have been familiar with the work of S. King for a long time and have read more than a dozen of his books. The work "The Green Mile" is a story that will not let you go for a long time. She leaves a residue in her soul - mixed feelings and indescribable impressions from the story itself, unique and ingenious.

10. Gregory David Roberts "Shantaram"

This art-refracted confession of a man who managed to get out of the abyss and survive, has sold four million copies around the world and has earned rave comparisons with the works of the best writers of the modern era from Melville to Hemingway. Like the author the hero of this novel has been hiding from the law for many years. Deprived of parental rights after a divorce from his wife, he became addicted to drugs, committed a number of robberies and was sentenced by an Australian court to nineteen years in prison. Having escaped from a maximum security prison in his second year, he reached Bombay where he was a counterfeiter and smuggler, traded arms and participated in the showdown of the Indian mafia and also found his true love, to lose it again, to find it again...

- It is very difficult to somehow categorically evaluate this novel. There are many advantages here: a fascinating story of the wanderings of the protagonist in the world of a harsh exotic country. Together with him, the reader develops, absorbs the alien culture and energy of other people, people of another world to which we are not used to. However there is something ridiculous about this. At times it seems that we are watching real Indian cinema - the brainchild of Bollywood naive and merciless. In general I liked the novel, it is interesting, bright, impetuous. During the period of reading this great story, I have never been bored. Despite some controversial points - I advise!

#book #books #classic #detective #drama #romance #comedy

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multsicorn · 4 years

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Is Wei Wuxian your fave? Please do the meme with answers about Wei Wuxian. Thank you

[HELLO you sent me this like? weeks ago? I am answering it now!]

haha YES he IS! (Which is very convenient, that, when one’s favorite character is also the protagonist - it means that my priorities and the show’s tend to be pretty well in alignment.)

(and why are you asking me when you’re not even in this fandom! but I

[this is really RIDICULOUSLY long, btw.]

How I feel about this character

I love him so much OMG… I was just thinking, yesterday or maybe this morning, that it’s early to tell, y’know, but he might join my ~FAVORITES OF ALL TIME.~

He is just! Set up so well, (~it’s cheating,~ no, that was gonna be a post), he loses so fucking much (parents, foster family/home, newly created found family/home, beloved sister, #it’s complicated wrt beloved brother, um, magical ability (#it’s complicated), hm, DIES), and he also - gets? does? etc. so fucking much. He’s good at way too many things tbh, at fighting and playing the flute (it’s also a form of fighting, it’s a magical flute), at charming people and inventing ~NEW MAGICS~ and… pissing people off? that’s a skill lol? He takes up farming/gardening, cause he rescued a bunch of prisoners of war who need something to eat, (and he misses food from home); he takes up raising a very small boy (he says! miss me with saying he’s not!) as his own, because someone needed to, because he was one of those same prisoners of war.

He NEVER FUCKING STOPS, no matter what anyone thinks, no matter the cost. He’ll take a curse mark on himself or go into a dangerous trance or (any number of other things that happen in the plot) for someone he doesn’t know, or doesn’t like… just because he thinks he can, is a lot of it, and isn’t that fascinating. And because he can, he couldn’t not.

What I meant, though, re: ~the man is non-stop!~, is: he does it with a smile, a laugh, a joke. A bowl of wine and a delighted stroll through the woods, looking around at the leaves, or a stop at a stall selling snacks or cute ornaments. He’s always working, always thinking, always playing - and! these are the same thing! for him! Even though his play definitely can get more physical than anything else, there’s always still this alertness looking around for an unexpected trick. And the work he chooses to do, not the fighting, but invention and the studying to back it up, traveling and helping people with their monster/ghost/spirit problems… that’s play, for him, it’s fun. There’s always something new and interesting to see or find or learn or make.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

LAN WANGJI aka his canonical soulmate/boyfriend/husband/cultivation partner, the one who knows him!, my heart. Howwww… can I explain their connection? They love each other, of course, and probably more importantly, they get each other… they trust each other, they work so well together, they make each other so happy. That’s one of the things that I love, that although they’re both people who are highly liked and/or admired generally in their society on a superficial level, that they’re both fucking weird people? Wei Wuxian is charming and Lan Wangji is impeccably virtuous (and they’re both very talented), but when you get to know them, Wei Wuxian never fucking shuts the fuck up and Lan Wangji will barely say one single word… they’re both a lot to handle, in a number of different ways! But they. Just like each other, a lot.

And the trust between these two. Slays me. Wei Wuxian lets Lan Wangji hold a sword to his throat, cause he knows Lan Wangji will know if he’s ~gone too far.~ Lan Wangji defies his clan, his family, the whole cultivation world, for Wei Wuxian, because he knows, that Wei Wuxian is and was right. They pursue justice, goodness, together… they find it in each other.

People try to set up an opposition between ‘marry your best friend’ and ‘star crossed lovers’ high-drama types of scenarios? But these epic losers (she says with love) are both… there’s no reason why not, after all. And I love ‘em SO MUCH.

JIANG CHENG, who is is his foster brother. Usually I’m not one for incest? It only tends to be something I ship when a sibling bond between characters is broken, or twisted, … or fails to really exist in the case of Luke/Leia type scenarios. (I have never watched a Star War, but I did read Splinter of the Mind’s Eye, okay.) The relationship between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng (and their sister, Jiang Yanli), very very much does exist, but… Jiang Cheng stabbed his sword into the rock of the cliff that Wei Wuxian was hanging off of, and yelled at him to go to hell. And Wei Wuxian finished yeeting himself off the cliff, and D I E D.

(it’s totally a romantic setup! what!?)

Anyway, they both really really love each other, they need to reconcile ASAP PLZ, and pairs of characters who both really really love each other but also have deeply conflicted and fucked up and sometimes even murdery intentions towards each other are extremely my jam. I want to smush them together! Mostly involving conversations, and extremely fraught invitations to visit, and small significant gestures. But also sometimes involving sex, because… why not.

SOMETIMES JIANG YANLI, though only in concert with Jiang Cheng as an OT3, because if Jiang Yanli’s still alive… you can’t have two of the three siblings together ~like that~ without a third. (So I guess this is the first exception that I’ve found so far to my usual pattern! Of only shipping incest when it’s already all fucked up. Jiang Cheng’s got enough fucked-up-ness for the all of them?). Anyway, I would like to thank the scene where Jiang Yanli shows Wei Wuxian her wedding dress for including the line from Jiang Cheng ‘you don’t think she’d marry you!?’ (to which I always say, it’s okay, Jiang Cheng, no one is leaving you out! how very dare you).

Together the two of them (Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian) are sweet and mutually supportive, and simply the delight of fucking even further with societal expectation and rumor is not going to get me shipping that. But as a threesome! Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian struggle with issues of insecurity, of jealousy, vis-a-vis family, and poor Yanli - she’s always trying to be enough for both of them, for everyone, and it must be very hard, … she reconciles the two of them, it’s a pattern, and they’re more united in thinking she deserves the world than they are in anything else. It can be fun to play with.

WEN NING!! Wei Wuxian walked away from his family and set his face against the cultivation world for Wen Ning, and Wen Qing, and their followers. He says he would’ve done it for anyone, but in fact he does it - the prison break, the dive all the way down into dark magic - for Wen Ning. He brings Wen Ning back to life. Which is a huge gift, but not necessarily one that Wen Ning would’ve accepted? But. He doesn’t get to be asked, he was dead.

And Wen Ning, in turn, is just ridiculously incredibly loyal to Wei Wuxian. It’s part of how Wei Wuxian brought him back to life, but - he’s the knife in Wei Wuxian’s hand. (That’s almost literally what his sister, Wen Qing, says). That sort of intimacy, being a human weapon, turning over your own volition, (not voluntarily! but Wen Ning’s okay with the fact that it’s a thing that happens!), to someone else, is… man, it’s a lot.

And there’s also the things Wen Ning does control: after Wei Wuxian comes back from the dead, (so they’re undead buddies! ;) in different ways), he follows Wei Wuxian everywhere he goes. Which causes some problems! One cannot have a zombie everywhere, with one, at all times. Even if he does save your life when you don’t expect needing it. … so, anyway, they both do these huge amounts of things for each other. They won’t give up on each other. They keep trying to take care of each other - Wei Wuxian gives Wen Ning his sword to wield. They never ever meant to depend on each other like this, but that’s what happened when they wouldn’t let go - and now they don’t need to, by the end of the story. But that story is A LOT, and I want them closer, and also to fuck with the controlling-the-undead angle ;).

XUE YANG! This is a never-ending list, lol. Anyway, if Jiang Cheng was the answer of ‘ship my two favorite characters,’ this is very much the answer of ‘ship the two characters that are hottest to me.’ ;). Anyway, I should point out that I don’t ship-ship them. Xue Yang’s a mass-murdering sociopath. And even if you can catch him in the plot before he goes all mass-murdery… Wei Wuxian would never love Xue Yang. (Never-minding the distinction between ‘love’ and ‘in love with,’ he definitely loves all the above.) But would Wei Wuxian fuck Xue Yang? Maybe! If you can set it up right.

(my current attempt stalled out with Xue Yang threatening to murder a small child in Wei Wuxian’s care, so… there’s no fucking in that case.)

Anyway. They’re very similar in some ways. They’re fearless, they really really hate boredom, they love to fuck around… just for fun. They’re both curious! When Xue Yang meets Wei Wuxian, for the first time, he asks him about the charm Wei Wuxian had invented that he’s fighting him with. While they’re fighting. (Which really strikes me as a very Wei Wuxian move.) Pity about the being evil thing, lol. But Xue Yang is a demonic cultivator who’s following on the magical paths that Wei Wuxian laid out… so a sorta teacher/disciple thing could be interesting. Again! If you could get around the killing people thing for just a second, before of course bringing it back in to smash everything down.

and that is, finally, all the major answers re: actively shipping, (really my main ships in this show are Wei Wuxian/almost everyone he significantly interacts with, and then I guess some other people who aren’t Wei Wuxian can also have some ships too?), but a few more quick answers I’d Definitely Read:

NIE HUAISANG in a friends-who-have-sex way back during their time in summer school together. You can’t tell me Lan Wangji thought that he wasn’t walking in on a Wei Wuxian/Jiang Cheng/Nie Huaisang orgy, that one time! You can’t tell me that Nie Huaisang lent Wei Wuxian gay porn book(s?) and never at least tittered about the idea! Their friendship at that point isn’t all that deep but… I think they both might very well find it a fun way to ~let off steam,~ or whatever, and I’d be into it.

WEN QING, even though I really like the fact that her friendship with Wei Wuxian is a hundred percent platonic (yes, it is, I’ll fight you). I love how they run the Burial Mounds together, I love the mutual sympathy and the mix of teasing and deadly seriousness in their dynamic, what I really want is SO MUCH MORE of just their friendship - and working-together partnership! - but, you see, I have a weakness, for friends who are not romantic! Just friends! But they fuck once or twice or in a while for fun, in between doing things that are more important.

(Also I particularly like when they’re exes who are better off as friends, in a modern AU? Idk somehow it just feels like a perfect fit for these two.)

… and I realize belatedly that the question asked ‘romantically’ and not ‘non-romantic fuck-buddies’ and therefore half of my answers don’t even apply, but whatever, I do what I want, and honestly for non-OTP-level ships I’m just as likely to ship them as fuckbuddies as I am romantically. So there, meme, I cannot be constrained.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

I COMPLETELY REFUSE TO CHOOSE: like, okay, fixing his relationship with his brother is the number-one most important thing to me about how canon ended. So I guess?? I’d have to say that?? YUNMENG SHUANGJIE (the Pride Twins of Yunmeng) 4EVER, sure, definitely. They both sacrificed everything for each other! More importantly, to me, I think both… of them, just really miss each other a lot. Jiang Cheng’s fucking furious at Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian’s pretty much given up on making any sort of attempt to change that, but I love them both and want them both to have everything that they still can that they want in life, and that means each other.

But I also love Wei Wuxian’s friendship with Wen Ning! And his friendship with Wen Qing! So much!!! They are ALSO family, okay, they made a new home together (and then it died) ;___;.

And then!!! The way he relates to the kids! Is just so wonderful. I love how he tries to be the ‘cool uncle’ to Jin Ling, how he balances the side of ‘I was an obnoxious brat too at your age… and in fact I kinda still am!’ with being a very responsible and caretaking adult. I love the way that he gets down in the mud and plays with Sizhui as A-Yuan, being silly, and is also so thrilled and proud of Sizhui as an adult. So uh yeah these are all of my favorite things

My unpopular opinion about this character

Hmmm I’m not so sure what’s unpopular. (Besides a lot of my non-canon-OTP ship choices, but those aren’t really ‘opinions about the character.’ I don’t think he’s likely in near-canon-verses to be with anyone besides his husband, I just like stories where it can happen!).

I think I’ll say: I think he’s generally a pretty happy person. He hides suffering with smiles, certainly! That’s what he does! But even though he has lost a lot - and even though I think he feels guilt over some things, like his sister’s death, and his nephew’s being an orphan - he doesn’t tend to dwell, on either the sorrow or the guilt in his life. He is genuinely pretty okay... and finds ways to be okay, even happy, even in the worst parts of his life, day-to-day! Even in the Burial Mounds, for example, when he’s missing his family and his almost-not-quite-yet boyfriend, ... sometimes he drowns in the missing, yeah, but far more often he’s happy with the things and the people that he’s growing there.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon

HE AND LAN WANGJI SHOULD HAVE KISSED??? That’s the most obvious and unarguable thing. They’re together, they’re so fucking together… on the steps of Carp Tower, in ep 42? Or maybe in the snowy night in the Jingshi, in ep 43, before the scene faded away (to black). (And presumably multiple times in the eps after that, but, eh, whatever). The only reason why this didn’t happen is censorship - though I do admit, I love all the post-canon get-together fics.

Also: HE SHOULD”VE STAYED AT CLOUD RECESSES??? With Lan Wangji??? Or Lan Wangji should’ve gone with him, to ~wander the world together,~ though personally I prefer the ‘Lan Wangji is Chief Cultivator’ ending. Anyway the fact that they separated is bullshit, (although, yes, I know all about that reunion implied in the last scene, but it’s not really satisfactory imo)… but, again, censorship. And, again, I love! All the post-canon fics where Wei Wuxian wanders around for some time before he finally ~comes back home~ to Lan Wangji.

Also also: if we’re talking about artistic decisions that weren’t cause of censorship: he and Jiang Cheng should’ve thawed just a little. Been just a little bit more hopeful. Towards each other, at the end of the show. Jiang Cheng wanting to say something, but not..? It was very ow, to me, it’s not a bad ow, but it needs to be remedied. Let Jiang Cheng find a way to be able to tell his brother he misses and still loves him, please.

#likearumchocolatesouffle #wei wuxian #the untamed

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rosmarinys · 4 years

Text

touch like a balm

dedicated to @panesars bc she’s lovely and helped me out with this and is also lovely love u dear. also this is a pushing daisies au yes agshsjsjs

"So, I bring can bring back the dead, but I also run a bakery, and I feel like the latter should get more attention, if I'm completely honest."

or the one where Ash runs a bakery, Dotty is trying to be the world's greatest private eye by cheating, and Iqra just wants to know what's going on.

read on ao3

chapter one – love like a wound, love like forgiveness

Ash’s shit day goes like this: Dotty gets her another job, Keegan pesters her about bills, Callum and Bobby break a plate and Iqra dies.

It’s a lot.

“Bills for you,” Keegan greets, leaning against the doorway to his office.

“You know, when I made you the manager, it’s because I didn’t want to deal with any of the managing part of the bakery,” Ash says, tying an apron around her waist. It’s so early in the morning that she doesn’t even want to know the exact time and she can still feel the imprint of her bed beneath her back, and she knows better than to close her eyes for more than a second after the last time she fell asleep standing up, elbow deep in dough.

Keegan snorts. “And yet we are partners, so I need your thoughts on what exactly we need for the next stock.”

Ash sighs but nods and runs their stock through her sleep-riddled mind. “Um, we’re running low on raspberries I’m sure. Strawberries, definitely, we’re down to the last ones today and I’ve been making less strawberry pies because of it. I had to give Dotty a cranberry pie yesterday and she threatened to never come back again.”

Keegan doesn’t look up from the list he’s making but he snorts. “Oh, how grateful we would all be for that. She re-organised all of my files last week, did I tell you?”

Ash chuckles. “No, you didn’t. What exactly did she do?”

Keegan does look up now, pad of paper and pen tucking underneath his arms as he crosses them as a frown flits across his face. “I had everything how I wanted it, everything was filed in terms of likability –”

Ash laughs, pausing in her weighing of flour in order to clap her hands before clasping them over her mouth. “You’re kidding. I thought you were joking when you said you were gonna file everything like that! Keegan!”

Keegan gestures wildly, a reluctant grin stretching his lips. “It works, ok? Or worked. Like, Ian is at the back of my third filing cabinet because he’s a Tory, and I remember that, I remember putting it there and thinking, fuck you. It was a good system!”

Ash giggles, absolutely delighted, and Keegan bites down his bottom lip to try and stop his own laughter. “Ok, ok. So how is organised now that Dotty has ruined everything?”

Keegan rolls his eyes and says with as much venom as he can muster, “Alphabetically.”

Ash laughs louder this time, her head shaking from side to side. “Ridiculous,” she grins. “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“But, that’s not all! She left a note on my desk with a charge for her ‘services’,” Keegan throws his hands up for air quotes, only making Ash giggle harder.

“Well, did you pay her?” Ash asks, picking up her flour again.

There is a pause.

“…Yes,” Keegan grumbles and Ash can’t help chuckling to herself, pulling a bowl of the last strawberries closer. “This is mutinous. You’re showing blatant favouritism to someone outside this partnership. I’m pretty sure I could sue based on that.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ash says and flicks flour at Keegan, watching Keegan duck to dodge getting any stains on his suit, setting her off giggling again.

Keegan turns to go back into his office, after a long death glare which Ash replied with a sarcastic blown kiss, but instead does a full circle to face Ash again. “Oh, meant to say, Chantelle and Gray vow renewals are next week, if you wanna come?”

“Oh, I- I thought that’d be a family event,” Ash replies, carefully, fingers frozen over a rotten berry.

Keegan doesn’t hesitate when he says, “Yes.”

Ash smiles at him. “I’d love to,” she says and watches Keegan smile back at her, his face like the setting sun.

He leaves and Ash touches the berry and watches it turn a glossy red, alive again like the rot had never existed.

This is how it is: Keegan has known Ash the longest. She remembers purple crayons and standing on stools with flour all over their face and staining their clothes while they watched Karen baked, babbling in a way that only seven-year olds can as Karen listened attentively.

They are all fuzzy memories, as though she is viewing them through rose-coloured glass, but she cherishes them all the same, cradles them in her heart like old relics of times when she felt sturdier on her two feet.

Some memories are clearer: her and Keegan, crouched over dead flies, a swatter in his hand and a stopwatch in her’s, her reaching out and touching one of the bugs and them watching in wonderment as it comes back to life, her finger pressing the stopwatch, timing how long she can do this, how long she can reanimate the dead. A minute later, a dragonfly dropped from the sky in front of them and Ash had turned to Keegan with wide eyes.

“This is-” Keegan said, face bright with child-like wonder, “Ash, you’re like a comic book character!”

She had grinned and they’d both ran inside his house, shouting happily to Karen that they had something cool to show her.

(Later, Karen would sit them both down and make them promise not to say anything about what Ash could do, that this had to be a secret between the three of them, and didn’t all superheroes keep their powers a secret, anyway? Just look at Superman, eh? Even later, Suki would scrub flour from Ash’s skin, and snipe about how she had ruined her clothes, tutting about how Ash couldn’t enjoy a cleaner hobby, like reading, just like she did when she was a girl.

But, for only a moment, there was only pounding feet, a rush of air in their lungs and their hands clasped together.)

“Got a job for you,” Dotty greets, tossing a folded sheet of paper onto the counter, not an hour after Keegan disappeared back into his office.

“You know, we invented the word ‘hello’,” Ash replies, exasperated with the company she keeps, not looking up from the dough in front of her. It’s sticking to her fingers and she reaches for more flour.

“Hello, I’ve got a job for you,” Dotty deadpans and Ash grins as she starts kneading.

“Bit busy here, what’s the job exactly?” Ash asks, gesturing with her bag of flour to demonstrate her point. Dotty scowls and picks up the sheet of paper.

“Middle-aged man turned up dead in the Thames, shot to death,” Dotty summarises, shoving the paper back into her pocket. Ash whistles and Dotty nods. “Exactly. Drama. And where there’s drama, there’s money.” She grins.

“My condolences to his grieving family of course,” Ash adds, giving Dotty a pointed look.

“Of course,” Dotty parrots. “His grieving, twenty-grand-paying family.” Ash raises her eyebrows, Dotty grins wider. “Drama,” she repeats.

“Well then, sounds eventful. Any witnesses?”

“Nope.”

Ash sighs. “Ah, never is. That’d be too easy, huh?”

Dotty waves a hand in front of her. “We don’t need easy. We have you and you’re – y’know,” she wriggles her fingers, spookily.

“Stop that,” Ash says, considering throwing a berry at her as she starts to fold her dough into a tin. “Also, did you re-arrange Keeagan’s files?”

“Yup,” Dotty replies, popping the ‘p’. “They were a mess and I refuse to let the company I keep be sub-par.”

“Right,” Ash chuckles. “And it has nothing to do with Keegan finding you your perfect office?”

“Yes,” Dotty replies, instantly. “And, also, I made him pay for my organisation, so. It’s not, a thank you or whatever.” Ash hums, unconvinced and Dotty scowls and turns her head to the side, staring at all the cutlery and plates stacked on one of the counters, her face flushing pink.

Ash takes pity on her and changes the subject. Dotty’s shoulders are getting too tense beneath that big woolly jacket she wears, the one that is several sizes too long so that it dwarves her frame, and Ash would rather be able to choose the music on their ride to the morgue. “Well, we can meet once The Pie Hole shuts at six, and head to the morgue, then?”

Dotty frowns and crosses her arms, face still a pale pink but Ash pretends not to notice.. “How come your bakery is more important than my detective business?”

“Because you can solve crimes without me, The Pie Hole can’t bake pies without me.”

“Then that just shows that you have a bad business model, doesn’t it?” Dotty smiles sweetly and Ash flicks some flour at her as well and watches Dotty duck the exact same way as Keegan did.

With a dirty look, Dotty heads towards the entrance. Ash doesn’t ask how Dotty got in considering the front door was locked and it’s five in the morning, simply assuming the answer is something that she can sleep better at night not knowing.

Ash goes back to kneading her dough and thinks about twenty grand and dead men.

This is how it is: Ash has powers. Well, a power. She can bring the dead back to life. There are rules and Ash spent most of her childhood figuring this out. One touch brings something back to life. Second touch, dead, forever. If someone is brought back for more than a minute, then something else dies, the balance of life and all that.

She uses it often now (in a way that some may view as cheating in the Private Eye business, but Dotty simply views as using the gifts given to you for good, though mostly money) but she remembers trying not to use it during her teenage years. She had felt like a god of death, the balance of deciding who should live and die a heavy weight on her shoulders but then –

(car, Kheerat, glass, bone, blood blood blood.)

there are always exceptions to be made.

There’s a loud crash in the sitting area and Ash sighs from the kitchen as she pulls a raspberry pie out of the oven.

“Sorry!” Bobby and Callum call and she sees them crouched over what used to be a plate when she comes through with a broom.

“Don’t touch it, you’ll cut yourselves,” Ash says, shooing them away and starts brushing up the mess.

“Sorry, Ash,” Bobby says, eyes wide and sad. “Callum was trying to get up and I bumped into him, you can take it out of my wages –”

“It was just as much my fault, I wasn’t paying attention, I’ll pay for it,” Callum interrupts, reaching for his wallet.

“It’s no one’s fault, it was an accident,” Ash says, gesturing to the now clear floor, the smashed plate all in her dustpan. “See? No harm done.” She can see them physically holding back from insisting again when she raises her eyebrow at them. “Well? Scatter.” She waves her broom at them mock-threateningly and watches Bobby smile weakly and turn to serve another customer whereas Callum lingers for a second. “Something up?”

Callum blinks. “Oh – sorry, it’s nothing, I just –” He sighs and sits back down in his stool at the front counter. Ash circles behind it to put the smashed plate in the bin and braces herself on the counter in front of him. He smiles at her weakly. “I have my job interview today and I’m scared I’m gonna screw it up.”

“Ah,” Ash says, nodding in understanding. “Well, listen, I’ve never met someone more qualified to be a paramedic, ok? So, just, deep breaths and trust yourself.”

Callum smiles at her. “Thanks, Ash. You’re a good friend.”

Ash smiles in return. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just speaking the truth, here. Also, you’ve saved me more than once. Nutmeg in my rhubarb pies? You really saved me with that.”

Callum chuckles bashfully and it’s a warm sound. “I-Well, it’s nothing. My mother, she-she made them like that.” He turns his head to the side, his fingers tapping restlessly on the counter.

“Well, she was a smart woman,” Ash says, expression soft when Callum glances over at her.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, she was.” They stay there, quietly, for a moment then he smiles at her again just before he leaves and when she looks down, she sees he’s left a five pound note on the counter, doubtless for the broken plate.

Ash smiles as she picks it up, already planning on giving Callum his next slice of pie for free.

This is how it is: Callum is a regular at The Pie Hole, his smile a constant companion to Ash whenever she places her pies in their display shelves, ready to be served.

He always orders a slice of apple pie and never leaves a tip less than three pounds, sometimes he leaves behind a napkin with a doodle on them of a dog on a skateboard and blushed down his neck when she’d asked about it, revealing that the dog was the main character in a comic he had made for his nephew.

(Ash had once forgotten her apron at The Pie Hole, and when she’d returned to get it in the small hours of the morning, she’d found Callum sat outside in the rain, his clothes soaked to his skin, clutching a baby’s blanket in his hands.

He’d stared at her blankly when she tried to speak to him but he went willingly when she dragged him into her bakery and sat him in a booth. She’d forced his hands around a warm cup of coffee in order to warm them up, but his grip was lax and so they sat with her hands cupped around his.

His skin had felt like ice and he only spoke once to murmur his nephew’s name before falling silent again and Ash had felt her heart in her chest splinter.

What was the point of having this power if she can’t save her friends from grief?

Callum doesn’t draw on the napkins anymore but he leaves bigger tips.)

The man on the table is dead, purple bruises stark against the placid white his skin has become. There are multiple holes in his chest. Ash checks the tag around his toe to avoid looking inside his grotesque wounds. Jack Branning, it reads. The name sounds familiar, but Ash can’t quite remember why. A horrid thought occurs to her, one where she might have once served this man at her bakery, might have known him when he was alive and now all she will remember is how he looked dead. It leaves goosepimples on her arms, even underneath her denim jacket.

“Well, let’s get this show on the road, yeah?” Dotty says, folding her arms in front of her chest. There has been a time in which Dotty would have made comments and digs at the victims’ wounds but even she has tired of it, especially after one of the victims had been a girl who revealed she’d been stabbed to death by her father, something that had left her looking as white as the corpses surrounding them.

Ash glances at her watch and waits for hand to reach twelve before tapping Jack lightly on the shoulder. The result is immediate; Jack shoots up and stares at them in shock, eyes blinking too quickly and chest heaving with breaths he doesn’t need. He opens his mouth to speak, and no noise comes out, his hands reaching up for his throat, fingers pressing into the purple left on his skin.

Dotty groans. “Great, now we need to play twenty questions.” Ash can hear her rolling her eyes without having to turn around. This happens too often, sometimes the victim’s windpipe is so damaged that they can’t speak properly. Once, Dotty left after three cases in a row with strangulation involved and Ash heard her groaning and moaning the entire time it took her to leave the building.

“Was it a man or a woman?” Jack stares at her blankly, so Ash tries again. “Mr Branning, you were murdered. Was it a man or a woman who killed you?” He doesn’t answer, instead looking around the room, at all the other closed cases in the morgue. She wonders how jarring this must be for someone, she wonders if there actually is an after-life or if it feels like a second has passed between shutting your eyes and opening them again to two women making weird requests. This is not the time to think about such things though, so she tries a different question. “Jack? Where they young or older?”

He turns back and starts gesturing with his hands, miming writing something down. Ash hears Dotty scramble for her notebook and pen while Ash feels the clock tick tick ticking. There is one second left until the hand hits twelve again when Ash taps Jack on the shoulder again, his body collapsing into the table he’s on, his fingers bent over the notebook he’d scribbled onto.

“Well, let’s hope this is good, considering we’ve got fuck all else out of him,” Dotty mutters and reaches forward. Ash sees what’s written when Dotty brushes Jack’s fingers asides and takes her pen and notebook back.

One word. Mitchell.

This is how it is: Dotty is more wolf than girl, dressed in plaid pinafores or ripped jeans, always with that dark woolly coat thrown on, so big that you can only see the tips of her fingers poking out the sleeves. She kicks her feet lightly when she’s sitting down and bites her nails down to the quick and spins a thin ring around her pointer finger, all while grinning with teeth.

Dotty caught Ash one day, having just brought a stray cat back to life, and showed up at the front door of The Pie Hole the next morning with a glint in her eyes and a business proposition.

“Can you bring back people too?” She’d asked and Ash had only nodded. Her smile grew wider. “Well, I was just thinking about how much easier it would be to solve murders if the victims could up and sing, huh?”

(They’re a good team, Ash thinks. Dotty’s a neon light in your veins, a fast-paced race-track that stills beneath Ash’s fingers when she touches her, like a live-wire finally finding a fuse.

Dotty looks at her like that sometimes, when Ash calls her a friend, as if she’s just woken up, like she’s been dead this whole time and Ash brought her back with a simple word.

She falls asleep on Ash’s couch sometimes, drowning in that big coat, finger’s twitching on that ring, face soft with sleep.

Ash pulls her duvet into the living room and sleeps on the rug next to her, seized with the urge to not let Dotty be alone, even in her sleep.

Dotty’s never said anything about it, but she always lets Ash borrow her eyeliner the next day.)

The rain makes her skin feel numb, even under her clothes as they become soaked and stick to her. Ash wonders briefly if this is how Callum had felt, feeling out of his body, The Pie Hole sign a beacon glaring through the noise.

(It had been an inside joke, you know. The Pie Hole. Keegan had whispered it as a joke when they were ten and Ash had proposed they run a bakery like the one she had seen on holiday once, both of them curled up in sleeping bags on his living room floor.

It feels like a million years ago, memories of sliding around in socks and running down streets till the soles of her feet felt fuzzy, her lungs too big for her body.)

She’s not sure how much time passes, leaning up against the building across the road from her bakery, thinking about Keegan, and her mother, and bakeries, when –

there is a blare of light that illuminates a figure on the street, a silhouette, before a car crashes into it and the scream of the tires is so awful that Ash thinks she’s in the car herself (car, Kheerat, glass, bone, blood blood blood.)

She stays frozen before she throws herself forward on autopilot, barely processing that the car has sped away and left the silhouette on the road, folded in on itself, purely running on the sharp pain in her temples, the blood in her mouth, power buzzing beneath her skin, whispering you were born for this.

Ash turns them over and sees their face, blood trickling down the side of their head and coating their dark hair. She barely manages a gasp before her fingers touch the side of their face and sees their eyes snap open.

This is how it is: Iqra Ahmed, on her way home from work, crosses the road without looking up from a text from her sister, and gets hit by a car and dies on impact.

This is how it is: Iqra Ahmed wakes up a minute later, chest heaving and staring up at a blurry face that’s there and then gone. There is blood in her mouth and her bones feel like dust.

This is how it is: Ash Panesar is so fucking tired.

#eastenders #ash panesar #dotty cotton #keegan baker #iqra ahmed #ash x iqra #callum highway #ben mitchell #bobby beale #ballum #ee fanfic #my writing #i promise bobby and callum and ben are in it more!!!#eastenders fanfiction

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casual-eumetazoa · 4 years

Text

the taste of blunder

a writing challenge told me to write my own version of a short story i like, so i re-wrote Ray Bradbury’s ‘A Sound of Thunder’. it turned out weird. really damn weird... i won’t explain it just read it, it’s only 2k :)

---------------------

-Hello, boys. – Catherine Anderson, junior manager and human embodiment of Pinterest, tugged on her maximally pierced ear and smiled with her best customer service smile.

-Hi, Cathy. – Anwar muttered, gesturing at Greg behind his back. – You look lovely today. Have you, uh, - he squinted at her, - bleached your eyebrows?

-Not so fast. – She noticed them turning for the corridor and shook her head. – What are you losers up to again?

-Nothing! – Anwar lied enthusiastically.

-Absolutely nothing. – Greg stepped in. – We were hanging out in the skateboard park, practicing a new scooter trick - you know, as you do on a sunny Saturday morning - and then Jamila texted Anwar and asked him to buy her tampons. Which he did, like a good brother, helping his sis out in an emergency.

-Right. – Catherine raised an eyebrow. – And you came along.

-Like a good friend. – Greg nodded. – So, if you will excuse us, we need to locate the women’s bathroom.

Anwar waited for Cathy’s famous sarcastic laugh, but she was silent. He glanced at Greg. He flashed him a grin and moved towards the corridor.

-Have a great day, Cathy! – Anwar added before heading for the exit.

-Uh-hu. – She mumbled, already on her phone, undoubtedly engaging in another heated political discussion with a veil of bored calm on her face and a raging passion in her heart.

But the boys didn’t care. They have just successfully completed part four of the plan.

-Phew. – Anwar heaved a sigh of relief. – Thanks, man. Top-notch improv.

-Don’t you think I overdid it a bit with the skateboard park? – He asked.

-Nah. – He assured him. – Trust me, Cathy’s clueless. We’re good.

The rest of the path brought no additional surprises. Ten minutes of turns and stairs and the two friends were standing in front of the launch room entrance. “Venture Entertainment – Trip of a Lifetime”, the sign read. Anwar fished in his pocket for the key. The fishing lingered.

-Don’t tell me you forgot it. – Greg hissed through greeted teeth.

In response, Anwar extracted the key and showed it to Greg before fitting it into the keyhole and opening the door.

-I never forget things. – Anwar said, stepping over the threshold. – As opposed to you.

And thus, shots were most certainly fired.

-These spacesuits are so 2015. – Greg proclaimed. He was done struggling with one boot and was preparing to do the same thing all over again with the other. – As well as two sizes too small for me.

-First of all, they aren’t spacesuits. – Anwar began. – We aren’t going to the ISS.

-Timesuits? – Greg suggested. – And we will be traveling in space, dude. Earth moves, and so does the Solar System, and the entire goddamned galaxy. Do you really expect it to be in the same place seventy million years ago?

-Second, - he continued as if he wasn’t interrupted, - the suits are a must. We can’t influence the past in any way. Not even with the air, we breathe out. We’ll stick to the path, follow the protocol, come back, and return the key to Jamila before she notices.

-Yeah, sure. – Greg nodded. He was now done with the other boot as well. – By the way, how the hell did you manage to steal it in the first place?

-She was hella distracted this morning. – Anwar shrugged. – Been yelling at mum about elections since breakfast.

-Who hasn’t been yelling about elections this week. – He scoffed.

-Mum voted for the Cheeto. – Anwar added and suppressed a sigh. – Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.

Both dressed in the ridiculous rubber suits, Greg and Anwar stepped on the platform, wished each other luck, and activated the system. The machine whirred and whistled, and the platform shook under their feet. “Is that it?”, Greg was about to ask when the whole world turned upside down and went black all of a sudden. He didn’t have time to complain. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes in a brand-new world… or, rather, a very old one.

-Woah. – Anwar beamed, spinning on the spot, trying to take in every detail.

-My thoughts exactly. – Greg said. – This is way better than IMAX.

The two guys stood on a transparent path that stretched for a few miles in both directions, hovering about half a meter above the ground. All around them was a vast dusty plane, and a soft wind blew into their helmet microphones. To their left, a group of large dinosaurs was munching on something that looked like an overgrown pineapple. To their right, another group was approaching a pond, their giant feet thumping against the dry ground. It was a kid book turned real life.

-Anwar, mate, - Greg put his gloved hand on his friend’s shoulder, - I must say, I had my doubts about the plan, and I was wrong. This was totally worth it. You know, as opposed to spending four years’ worth of summer job money on a ticket. Next week, I’m taking Alicia here. If that doesn’t make her wanna date me, nothing ever will.

They spent what felt like half a day walking up and down the path, watching the dinosaurs, taking photos and admiring the view. While Anwar scrolled frantically through the species guide on his phone, playing some prehistoric version of Pokémon Go with himself, Greg sat down on the edge of the path and drew a sketch in his calculus textbook. This sure beat going to the museum and trying to recreate an image based on a skeleton.

-Hey. – Anwar said, taking a seat next to him. – The timer’s running down. We’ll be heading home soon.

-Got it. – Greg replied. – I’m nearly done here. Just give me a minute.

Anwar nodded, shifting his weight to his tiptoes, then back to his heels. The sun was hanging low over the horizon. Strange. Such a long time ago, and it seemed perfectly normal. Exactly like the sun he saw every morning in his bedroom window. He leaned in a tiny bit closer to focus on one of the trees in the distance. A one-inch shift, a slight moment of his body… and he slipped. With a short scream, Anwar toppled over the edge of the path and landed on the ground with a soft thump.

-Anwar?! – Greg was on his feet at once. – Are you okay?

Anwar’s reflexes were quicker than his conscious mind. Before he even realized what has happened, he had already pulled himself up and back onto the path. And there he sat, panting, eyes almost popping out of their sockets with shock and terror.

-Anwar? – Greg repeated.

-I’m good. – Anwar told him and swallowed hard. – But what about the timeline?

Their hearts raced as the platform buzzed, whirred, and propelled them forwards in time. As soon as the world around them stabilized, Anwar grabbed his helmet and pulled it off his head. He disassembled his suit, one part after another, and tried to ignore the shaking of his fingers. The boots were the last to go. He took off the left one and held his breath as he turned it towards himself. Clean. He took the second one off. Turned it around. Stared at it in horror.

There, stuck to the sole of his right boot, was a beautiful, iridescent, and heartbreakingly dead beetle.

-We’re screwed. – Anwar chanted, rocking back and forth on the floor. – We’re screwed. We’re so screwed.

-Jesus, get yourself together. – Greg rolled his eyes. – We’re back to the office, aren’t we? So, our species still clearly exists.

-You don’t understand! – Anwar exclaimed. – I killed a beetle. I killed it! The potential consequences of this kind of thing can be disastrous. Have you never watched Back to the Future? Anything could have happened! Hitler might have won the war. North might have never defeated the South. Maybe, - he muttered, progressively losing the feeble remains of calm, - maybe YouTube was never invented. For fuck’s sake, Greg, are you listening to me at all? How can you be on your phone right now?!

-I’m checking! – He replied. – All the major events. Seems fine so far.

-Check your newsfeed! – Anwar suggested and pulled out his own iPhone.

-Seems fine too. – Greg said, scrolling through his Facebook. – Dave is still overdoing every meme he has ever seen. Aunt Rachel is still posting bullshit about organic food. Your selfies still suck.

-Hey. – Anwar protested, but was ignored.

-O-kay. – He paused and tapped his fingers on the floor. – Anwar, mate… I have good news and bad news.

-Oh, cut to the chase, will you?

-Sure. – He nodded, and turned the phone screen towards Anwar.

-The hell. – Anwar muttered, staring at the screen in disbelief.

There, nestled in between an Adidas commercial and their university’s news page, was an article in the New York Times. “History was made today - Collins wins with seventy-three percent, becoming America’s first openly Blattosapient president” read the title, accompanied by a glamorous photo.

-No other way of putting it. – Greg concluded. – The new president… is a giant cockroach.

They sat in silence for a while, trying hard to process what they just witnessed. Then, as if propelled into the air by an external force, Anwar jumped up to his feet and rushed towards the control panel of the Venture.

-What are you doing? – Greg asked, surprisingly calm.

-What do you think I’m doing?! – Anwar yelled back. – I’m going to fix this. Or try to fix this, at least. I mean… the president is a giant cockroach!

-Well, yeah. – Greg agreed. – But that doesn’t mean we have to change anything.

-What do you mean? – Anwar gestured vaguely, perplexed. – The president is a cockroach! And I caused it. Jamila will kill me!

-How will she ever know? – He shrugged. – As far as she is concerned, this is all normal.

-Well, maybe. – Anwar agreed. – But the president…

-…is a giant cockroach. Yeah, I know. But that doesn’t mean he’s bad! Don’t be a xenophobe, Anwar. Give the guy a chance!

-Are you out of your fucking mind? – Anwar wondered, not even expecting an answer.

-No, seriously. – Greg laughed. – Think about it. He won by a seventy-three percent majority. Surely, he can’t be that terrible. And even if he’s not the best… how much worse could it be?

-Well. – Anwar muttered and sat back on the floor. – Maybe you’re right. Like… do I really wanna make sure that Trump wins?

-Exactly. – Greg clapped his hands. – I say, this has to be a change for the best.

-Damn. – Anwar rubbed his eyes, exhausted both emotionally and physically. – I’m sorry, Greg, but we’re so not taking Alicia here. Ever.

They sat at the local café, drinking Sprite and catching up on all the modified news. So far, at least judging by their social media feed, the elected Collins seemed to be much less divisive than his orange alternative.

-I have so many questions. – Anwar said. – The cockroach people. Are they like, a separate species? Or a genetic experiment of some sort? Or aliens? And is there a lot of them? And if so, why are there no cockroach people in this place? Are they all celebrating or something? Also, it said in the NY Times article that he’s the first openly cockroach president. The hell does that mean - openly? Are they suggesting there might have been cockroach presidents before, but no one knew about it? Were they wearing human body suits or some shit?

-Anwar. – Greg interrupted his anxious rant. – Chill. Also, stop saying cockroach. Based on this, khm, colorful comment section, I’m pretty sure it’s a slur.

-I wonder if anything else has changed. - Anwar continued, sipping on his drink. – This Sprite tastes kinda funny.

-The taste of blunder. – Greg joked. – And no, doesn’t seem so.

-Alright. – He nodded. – Okay. I can live with that. – He paused, staring into the opposite wall. – Anyway. The new guy… is he democrat or republican?

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #original fiction #short story #sci-fi #satire #paradox nerd post

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crankyvic · 4 years

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Another Year, Stand Still Emotions

2019 came and went. The last time I wrote, it was a trip to Vero. Something happened there. I had anal sex with him, according to the diary. In the summer of 2019, we went to Santa Fe. It was a good trip. My head was in the right space. I was confident, busy and undoubtedly in charge. I was good. Then our last and final trip to Vegas. It was an uneventful one. I had been with him for 8 years at that point. I made a point to see him whenever I could. I hardly remember what we did. We were getting along fabulously.

Then 2020 happened. I get a real break during Chinese New Year because things are shut down at the HQ, consequently the trip I take with him - on Chinese New Year period, tends to be more intense because I have an idle mind. Idle mind is a very confused mind. I resort back to my original feeling.

This is how our story ended - http://crankyvic22.blogspot.com/2011/12/game-of-ice-cream-may-31-1998-salt-lake.html. That dedicated story written on May 31, 1998, a month and half since I started seeing him, I made a determination to end it. I was afraid of losing to him. The man who loved playing games of dating, playing that sensitive boyfriend who is known to break woman’s heart. I was smarter than that so I ended that. “I played cautiously and intensely. I was drawn to your game more so than I first expected. You were so at ease in this game that I thought you were for real. I was fascinated by your intensity and sensitivity. It was a rare quality. Hence I was convinced that you weren't for real. You were too good to be real. You were setting traps for this game that we were playing. The first one who fell for the other will be the ultimate loser and I was determined not to be the one. I was getting more and more involved in your defined game, however. I was getting more intense and more vulnerable to you. I was also getting clingy to you - that truly scared me. I was afraid that one day when you call it quits I'd still want to play the game, yet you'd already vaporized like the morning fog and I’d cry over the loss of my game mate. God help me! You kissed me when I wasn't watching, you stole the kisses from me like a little boy stole his favorite candy from a jar hidden by the adults in a secret cabinet. We felt asleep in each other's arms at night. I woke up in the middle of the night, you were on your side of the bed, arms reaching out to my side of the bed. I just realized that all this time you had been holding my hand. You were the master of the game, when you invented it, you had carefully covered each of your foot steps. You could never lose.”

This is how our story evolved - http://crankyvic22.blogspot.com/2011/12/chasing-blonde-ghost-in-my-pocket-june.html. The second story was written in June 2018. “Sometimes it feels better when you are not around that often. Your absence provides me with a comfort zone. In this zone I build you up, I see you through filtered lenses and I write stories about the filtered you. In my stories I can afford to fall for you and be obsessed about you.” I wrote.

In the fall of 2011, I remet him. We like to call this the beginning of a new relationship. He used the term “re-met”. I wrote this http://crankyvic22.blogspot.com/2011/12/this-time-san-francisco-stories-4.html - “When I was with him, paradoxically, I felt both sexually charged and anxious; and, yet, emotionally settled and at ease. I was just myself. I was never like this with others, through the last nine years of my thirties, or in my more adventurous twenties. I was often inquisitive about the future; I despised the notion of que sera sera. I needed an answer always, often right away, and when the answer was not presented to me, when I couldn’t figure out where things were going, I panicked, retreated, drew a conclusion, and moved on. I could never settle on one person, at one time. I needed my heart to be in different places, lingering over different people, to feel whole. But not anymore. I had grown up, as it turned out, I could, after all these years, learn that you didn’t have to parlay your heart to win your hand. In fact, life did not have to be a gamble; life could be just, life: calm, chaotic, uncertain yet inspiring. You didn’t have to change yourself, or others. You could be OK with whichever direction this detour would take you.”

I re-read the stories I wrote of him, span over 22 years, of the same man, who has grown to be this middle age man of 54 years of age, who has given me something I was unable to get from others, that physical intensive love affair that lasted over 8 years, and still counting.

We are still in love. But we saw each other once a month, at most. That’s roughly 10-12 times a year (let’s say 11 times) x 8 years = 88 days. We are now officially around 3 months of relationship if this was a new relationship. So yes technically 22 years since I met him in April 1998, but in truth, since we remet in 2011, 88 days together, still new, still crazy in love stage.

One of the things we did was up our game. Anal last year, this year, a nudist colony where you can fuck anywhere on the premise, and you can watch others fucking. We did a bit of both. Very liberating, and he did this for me because he knows I like such things. I like being naked. So does him, another thing we have in common.

Do I love him? Yes. Does he love me? He says that he does. He says I’m the love of his life. He tells others about me. He wants me to go and visit his best friend in Norway. And meet his BFF’s wife. She won’t like it. He’d say. Yes I’m still married and he’s with his partner raising two kids. They are practically married. But the milestone is the idea of him bringing me to see his BFF, who happens, as the world is a rather small place, an old colleague of mine. His BFF is aware of my existence, and apparently, so is a woman he had a relationship with. Someone who’s into BDSM and they were together doing kinky stuff until - well, until I said, no I want to go exclusive and no please don’t fuck others, and I guess until he fell in love with me. Until he and I happened.

On up the game. He is in love with me. We continue our journey as two middle age people who cannot be separate despite my best effort to cut him off. I feel exactly the same about him when I first dated him in April 1998. I have never felt anything like this for anyone before. I simply find him incredibly attractive and I can’t believe how ridiculous I feel when I’m around him. There is always that one person. For me, it’s him. He says that he loves me so much. And this time, he asked me to marry him. He is a guy who has never been married. He thinks marriage is not for him and he would never get married. That’s what he told me when we first remet and throughout the years. And this time, on this trip in January 2020, he said “I want you to marry me.” I laughed and asked if this was a proposal, he recognized his error, and said “Yes there are still a few steps.” Referring to the fact that I’m already married and a divorce need to take place first before marriage. But how did this come up? How did I become the person for him to marry? I’m baffled.

It always happens this way. We go away for a trip. I hear all the greatest love sound bites from him. Then we get home and I don’t hear from him for weeks. It’s like he needs to do a detox - detox from me. I write to him until I don’t hear from him for days. Then I stop for a while. I will wait for him to miss me again before reaching back out. I take the opportunity to recollect myself and stop my crazy senses of longing, and self pity. I cry every time I’m with him.

Lying on that big round bed, I asked him questions about his past, other entanglement and the dissolution of those. He tells me one of the last ones. How they ended. Because of us. He would say. Because he wanted to be with me, so he terminated others. He tells me stories he has had with countless women. He likes to tell me such stories. he says it’s because I like to hear about them. I do. But I also like to figure out what is that he wants from me and where I stand in his relationships with women. I was overwhelmed by his description of our relationship and how it has affected the way he approaches other women. I still don’t trust him but he tells me that he has stopped sleeping with other women. Only with me. I don’t trust him.

Esther Peril’s Small Town Affair is about me. And him. I can’t trust him. I never could. But he reminded me of my dad. Apparently I reminded him of his mother. We both have complicated stories about our parents. We see each other as the de facto parent.

8 years. I still can’t trust him. I can’t trust that he loves me. I love him and I have plenty to love. But I can’t imagine that he wants to be with me. Spoiler alert: I don’t believe that I deserve to be loved. So how could he ever really love me?

I was held by him and he told me that he just wants to protect me. Care for me. Like the father I never had. I was abandoned by my parents when I was 11. I was repeatedly abused since I was little. I don’t deserve to be loved. Not by anyone, and not by this man who would marry me because - I think he knows that is what he wants from me. He wants that level of commitment to show how much he loves me. I don’t understand why else he would do that.

I fell asleep crying. I cried because my feeling for him remains so intense. It’s like 1998 all over again.

“We belong together. We belong with each other. We are perfect for each other.” These are the words he would say over and over again.

“What would you tell your friends who know about us?” He says “I’d tell them you are the love of my life.”

I cry. I shed tears and fall asleep in his arms like I did in 1998.

At airport when we part ways, he leave me with “I love you.” I was caught by surprise. I thought “I love you” coming from him is only reserved for pillow talk.

I can love with full abandon. I still don’t believe why he loves me. I cry and I cry. I want him to leave me. I think that’s how it should end. Him leaving me. He, breaking my heart. That would be the ending I prefer. Not him falling in love with me. Not this version of him who wants to get married.

I wish he would never write back again. I wish he could just drop off from my world. I don’t actually wish that but it would prove to me that he is not to be trusted. I can’t afford to be loved. What if I did let him in and he would then break my heart? I am as scared as when I was 25. No matter how much love declarations he makes, I find myself having a hard time trusting him. So I cry. Like I cried 22 years ago. When I’m away from him.

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avengerofyourheart · 6 years

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Flour Girl {6} (Bucky x reader AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda.

Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)

Warnings: none! Mild swearing?

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: She’s ready to fight!!! Are you ready? ;) There’s a bit more about the actual baking process in this part. I’m toying with the idea of sharing recipes or maybe doing short videos while making some of the yummy things I’ve mentioned. Let me know if that is of interest! And I’d love to hear your thoughts on this part, all feedback is appreciated and adored! Thank you alll for your love and support. I love you.<3

<<Part 5 Part 6 Part 7>>

Flour Girl Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

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(**gif is not a representation of the reader, only the act of kneading dough**)

Recipe development was always one of your favorite parts of the job. Inventing some new product that no one else had thought of, testing it out, and then tasting the end result was a satisfying process. Baking was a science and in order for it all to come together, you had to have the right ingredients in the correct amounts. Some people struggled with baking because it required more attention to detail and a lot of patience. You loved it though, every bit of it. Ever since you started making cookies in your mother’s kitchen as a young girl, you felt at home.

In order to avoid wasting time and ingredients, you grabbed a few of your current recipes and took them back to your desk to formulate a plan. After about 20 minutes, you decided to modify a scone recipe and a filled croissant. Having written down your adjustments, you grabbed your bag and told Wanda you’d be back shortly before walking down the street to the market.

Stepping inside the store, you felt your stomach clench at the memory of the last time you were there, that night when you’d run into Jimmy. It was mid-morning, though, and the chances of having a repeat interaction were slim to none. Fetching a basket, you walked down the aisle and selected the ingredients you had in mind before stopping at the cheese department and then checking out.

Back at the bakery, you set out your savory ingredients and got to work. You already had a sweet scone that was selling well in your pastry case. The flavor pairing of tart, zesty orange and rich dark chocolate pieces filling the scone and then drizzled with an orange glaze after baking made for a tantalizing treat.

English scones were much like a crumpet or a buttermilk biscuit, but a little more complex. For the savory version you had in mind, you weighed out your dry ingredients like flour, baking powder, and salt, but reducing the amount of sugar so the other flavors would be more prominent. Cutting up the butter into small cubes, you mixed them into the flour until the butter pieces were the size of peas. Next you slowly added the heavy cream and egg mixed together until it became a dough. Last came the sun-dried tomatoes and cubes of Havarti cheese that would bubble and melt to perfection in the oven. The thought of it made your mouth water.

You turned out the dough onto a floured surface and kneaded it with your hands a few times before patting it into a circle and then cutting that into triangles. You placed each one on a baking sheet, brushed them with cream and sprinkled coarse salt on top before sliding them into the oven. Washing your hands, you cleaned up the table and checked in on Wanda before starting your next project.

The filled croissant combination seemed a little odd, but if it worked out, the taste would be divine. Plucking the pears from your grocery bag, you peeled one of them, halved it, removed the seeds, and then began to slice it thinly. After rolling out a piece of croissant dough and cutting it into long triangles, you spread a small amount of spicy mustard on the wider side, placed a slice of smoked gouda cheese over that, and then layered the thin slices of pear on top. Carefully, you rolled up the croissant and placed it on a baking sheet.

It was easier to adjust and experiment with the croissants, since they were rolled individually. You put more cheese in some, more pears in others and then did a few without the mustard, in case the taste was too overwhelming. You wrote the contents of each one on a piece of parchment in black marker and then brushed them with an egg wash before baking. As the timer went off for the scones, the croissants were ready to go in.

You waited a few minutes before trying the scones and as you glanced at the clock, you were surprised so much time had passed. Caught up in your new experiments, it was a shock to realize it was almost lunchtime. Your internal clock was out of whack anyway, given your extra early wake up call this morning. Just then, your phone chimed so you pulled it out and woke up the screen.

A text from “B”. Seeing the initial pop up on your phone made you smile, and just like this morning, there was an attachment. He seemed to be respecting your desire to keep your interactions anonymous, so you weren’t expecting a selfie or anything. However, you also weren’t expecting a picture of a slice of pizza with the sign for Ruby Rosa’s Pizza. The caption read “Best slice in the city.”

Grinning with a bite of your lip, you pulled up the keyboard to respond.

FG: I might have to fight you on that. Their sauce is much too sweet. I prefer Capizzi’s.

“B” replied with an emoji of a shocked expression with a hand on each cheek.

B: You can’t be serious. Their crust is all wrong! I really thought we could still be friends after the whole Beatles/Stones debacle but this might be the last straw…

Letting out a chuckle you, rested your hip against the table and replied.

FG: If that’s how it is, then so be it. I stand by my pizza. You and your sugary sauce deserve each other. I should have known you’d love it, considering your THREE SUGARS in your coffee.

Those three dots appeared and lingered for a few minutes, so you took that time to taste one of your scones. They were delicious and just as you had hoped, the melted cheese had created delectable little pockets of gooey-ness in the scone, but the sun-dried tomato flavor was much too subtle. It would take at least one more adjusted batch to get it right. You weren’t surprised; sometimes you had to re-make something five times before the recipe was perfect.

B’s response finally arrived.

B: Whew. Alright, alright. We’ll drop the subject for now. I’ll definitely convert you one of these days, though. So how’s your day been?

You felt a flip in your stomach first of all, because it meant that he wanted this…whatever it was…to continue. And honestly, so did you. It had only been a short time, but hearing from him had become the highlight of your day. It didn’t matter that you didn’t know his name or what he looked like, in fact it was part of the fun at this point. Pecking out a reply, you sent it and then made notes on your scone recipe as you awaited his reply.

FG: Day started earlier than I’d like, and ran into that insufferable person but it’s been all uphill since then. :) How about you?

B: Man, can’t that jerk take a hint? Franny doesn’t need any of your dickhead-ed behavior. Especially running on less sleep. ;) I’m sorry that happened again. Need any more distractions? I’m available.

Your heart skipped a beat at that last phrase. He probably didn’t mean it in the way you might have interpreted. Maybe? In fact, since you knew almost nothing about him, it was possible that you were conversing with someone who might be…involved? Married? It was a ridiculous notion, since all you were doing was texting, but there was definitely a flirty tone in your conversations. Or you thought so. It was difficult to tell through text.

Just as you were about to respond, you got a phone call and the name on the screen made your face light up as you answered.

“Hi, dad,” you said with a smile.

“Hey, how’s my little Flour Girl? The big city still treating you alright?” you heard your father’s voice through the phone. You spoke at least twice a week and he always asked how you were getting by in the city, even after living there over a year and half. You loved that he still worried, though, so you just smiled and shook your head.

“The city is fine, dad. The shop is still doing great. How are you?” you asked, peeking in the oven at your croissants at the same time.

“Oh, I’m just fine. Not much changes around here, not like in the city.”

You grinned, knowing how much your dad preferred the quiet, small town life. You told him all about your new savory pastries and everything about the shop, but you held back the information about Barnes Bakery and this new “competition” with Jimmy, or whatever it was. That information would only make your father worry and besides, you had it under control.

Your parents had always been supportive of your career choice, never failing to taste your latest cookies or cake experiments growing up. Some of your first memories were of spending time with your mom in the kitchen. Whenever your dad came home from work, most nights he found you in the kitchen covered in flour. Thus, you became his little Flour Girl. A play on words that also rang true.

When your mom got sick during your senior year of high school, you became obsessed with finding new recipes that would sound good to her and that the doctors would approve. Her passing the following summer left an everlasting hole in your life and heart, but she wanted your dreams to come true, no matter what. She even set aside some money for your bakery in her will, making you even more determined to succeed in her honor. Since then, it had just been you and your dad against the world.

“Well, pumpkin, I better sign off. The boss is giving me the eye,” your father told you after a wonderful, lengthy conversation that you definitely needed.

“Yeah, I better get back to work, too. I love you, dad,” you said, trying to hide the emotion in your voice. His phone calls never failed to make you a little homesick, no matter how much you loved living in the city.

“Love you, too, Y/N. You be careful.”

“I will. Bye.”

Lost in your thoughts after hanging up, you jumped a little when the oven timer went off. Pulling out the croissants, you waited for them to cool before tasting a little bit of each one. Confident that you had found a winning combination, you also had Wanda taste them and select her favorite, which also happened to be the same as yours. Never hurt to have a second opinion. One last test batch of your Sun-dried Tomato and Havarti scones and you felt good about the recipes. Clint was going to be blown away and you’d get your spot back in their pastry case. You were sure of it.

Preparing both the croissants and scones to be baked fresh in the morning, you cleaned up your mess and checked what was needed up front. A few more trays of cookies in the oven and you finally pulled out your phone to respond to B’s text.

FG: Sorry, got interrupted by a phone call and work. But I’ll take a rain check on that distraction.

You read it over one more time, hoping it sounded just a little suggestive but not over the top, and hit send.

B: No problem. Offer still stands. :)

Smiling from ear to ear, you left the conversation there and went about your day with a little more pep in your step.

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Part 7>>

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OooOOOooohh!!!! Don’t those croissants and scones sound delicious?? *heart eyes* I actually do create recipes and change the flavors of baked good as part of my job. It’s pretty fun. :D And now he find out the origin of the “flour girl” nickname!! That’s pretty sweet, right? And a bit of background about why the reader loves to bake. Whether you sympathize or not, I hope you enjoy those little tidbits. Ooh, a distraction?? B just gets more adorable every day. ;) I’d love to hear your thoughts on this part, any feedback is appreciated. I adore every one of you!! Thank you. <3

Permanent tag list and FG tag list are CLOSED.

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@yallneedtrek @lexie-mo @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @kingcarterprince @snuggleducky @acunningstargazer @zadyalyss @satans-knitting-club @honey-bee-holly @just-add-butter @captainradicalpassion @chook007 @peekingsunshine @odinhson @chrisevans1fan @fangirlwithasweettooth @angryteapot @srhls @jurassicbarnes @livingoffsavvyillusions @ahufflepuffbitch @sebbystanlover-vk @thisismyfriend-tree @susmita121 @fandom-addict-aesthetics @lowkeybuckyb @jitterbuck @lunacajun @aligatorinavest @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @lilyblack78910 @uservalkyrie @hawaiiantozier

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #baker au #reader x bucky #reader x bucky barnes #bucky fluff #bucky au #reader x james buchanan barnes #marvel fan fic #marvel fan fiction #avengers fan fiction #avengers au #you've got mail

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letsriottogether · 5 years

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Silence, part 5 (Chernobyl fanfic)

Can also be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19868920/chapters/47678032

Pairing: Valana, Ulana Khomyuk/Valery Legasov Characters: Ulana Khomyuk, Valery Legasov, Boris Scherbina, KGB Charkov, Sasha the Cat Warning: Strong language, explicit scenes

Big thank you for all comments and kudos/likes! My apologies for the wait, This past week and half has been a bit more hectic than I’ve anticipated. ________________________________________ There’s something tickling his face. Valery stirs in his sleep, frowning at the weird sensation. His hand rises to push the tickling thing away, only to realize it’s Sasha doing her morning routine. He grunts and opens his eyes to find a pair of light green ones, staring at him. He smiles for a brief moment, stroking Sasha’s soft fur. The lazy morning sun peaks through the closed curtains. As the cat jumps off of him to the floor, heading to kitchen, Valery lets himself to close his eyes for a few brief moments. Then the meowing begins and he knows that he indeed has to get up. His normal daily routine before he can return to the Kurchatov is quite simple. Get up, go to the bathroom, splash his face with cold water, brush teeth. Change into a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, give Sasha some leftovers from yesterday, go to near grocery shop for some basic food. It felt weird, knowing he’s being watched. The first three days he kept checking his window one or two times per hour, almost unable to go to sleep, his eyes glued to the blue car standing on the street. The KGB agents did not even try to hide at that point. His days are long, and he’s desperate to keep himself occupied. He’s re-reading his old books, going through old notes, picking up the theoretical problems he was solving before the bloody phone rang on 26 April 1986 and he heard Scherbina’s voice for the very first time. He still has two days before he can start working at the Institute. He’s not quite sure what to expect, but one thing is for sure - he’s definitely not going back to his office, most likely he will end up in some ridiculously small shared space with carefully handpicked colleagues who would eavesdrop on him and immediately share anything suspicious with the right people. Damn it, it wouldn’t even have to be suspicious, it would be good enough if it was anything that would help them move up the party ladder.

He’s sure that there are no more exciting projects for him and that he will most likely stay away from all labs and researches until the radiation decides to kill him. Buried deep within paperwork, for nothing, watching over his shoulder endlessly, alone, returning back into an empty apartment every day. Wouldn’t that bullet into his skull be better in the end, more merciful?

His eyes wander around the apartment that still looks the same, but for some reason the colors sound more blunt, faded. Maybe it’s because of the thick cigarette smoke? He knows he should try to quit, but hey, you have to die of something, right? Something other than radiation related disease. He used to be just fine living all alone, but then she waltzed into his life, so damn confident and sure of herself. Thank god to that, thank god she had the guts to fight him and make him see that the tanks are full, horrifying fact complicating everything. Her with those wise eyes, seeing through him. And that was only the beginning. He was a careful man, not letting anyone into his life simply because it didn’t feel comfortable, because books could not hurt you as much as people and also because they would not blame you for coming back home late at night. After the evening at the hotel when be basically offered her his apartment (not to mention almost kissing her), he knew there was no way avoiding this bullet. And with the same confidence there was suddenly the presence of her everywhere. In his home, in his mind, in his soul, nestling into every single atom of his existence. There were so many moments of sacred silence, when he would look at her, study the expression of her face, memorizing her curves, the way her hair framed her beautiful face when he would just want to stop the time, erase the past and rewrite the future. Sometimes it felt like she was the raging fire and he was a bottle of gasoline - a deadly combination.

When the reading gets too boring and radio too annoying, he walks around his apartment. He tried walking outside, but the KGB agents were too noticeable, not even caring about staying hidden somewhere in the shadows of the big city. Inside the apartment he could at least pretend he was alone. And alone he was. Well, at least he thought so. When checking his mailbox he found small carefully folded piece of paper snuck into a small hole in his mailbox. He looked around, as if expecting to find someone who would give him some sort of explanation, but the hallway was empty. He nonchalantly put the paper into the pocket of his coat and went back home. Maybe it’s just KGB’s way of playing with his mind? To falsely lure him into a trap? That could be definitely possible. He walked the stairs up to his floor, not daring to unfold the message before being safely inside. Sasha happily greeted her human by waltzing around his legs. Over the years he got used to this habit of hers, being extra careful not to stumble over her. He put down the bag with a fresh loaf of bread and some other groceries. Usually he would put everything into its place right away, but now there was something more important.

After hanging his coat onto the hanger, he goes over to the windows facing the street, checking the KGB car. The agent is inside, reading a newspaper. Good.His palms are sweating as he opens the hand written message. “Your friend hasn’t forgotten you. Keep your head down for now. Belarussia is under supervision to improve the outcomes.”

Oh Boris, my dear Borja. Chernobyl might have stolen the peaceful and quiet days of his life, but granted him a friend instead in Boris. Valery just hopes that Boris is careful enough not to end up similar to him, or worse. Especially given to his health. The red blood marks on his handkerchief still frighten Valery, knowing there’s no escape to their fate. He knows Boris could be hardly the one to appear in his apartment building, meaning he has to have someone to do this for him. Of course, if this isn’t a trap. But Valery wants, needs to believe this is real, and the faint connection to the outside world, to the people he loves and cherishes pour some faith and joy to his veins. He re-reads the last sentence again. Ulana. He hopes that this sort of supervision that is mentioned is just Boris. Or did he write it like that on purpose not to scare him? He made it clear to Charkov, doing his best that she nor Boris had nothing to do with his testimony. Or did Charkov want to convince himself personally? He pushed that thought aside, not being able to bear that he wouldn’t be able to protect at least them.

He notices that the door of the car outside that never leaves his street open and a man gets out. He briskly moves to the sink, setting the small paper on fire with his lighter, washing the ashes down the drain with water. In a few minutes there’s a loud banging on his front door. Valery already knows their manners, but still cannot help but jump a little at the loud sound. Sasha jumps down from her spot on the sofa, annoyed and angry at the harsh awakening. She eyes the room curiously, partly hidden behind a ficus. Valery walks to the hallway, opening the door. The agent doesn’t even bother to clean his shoes on the mat, and bursts inside as if it was his home. He stops at the door to the kitchen, sniffing. “Hope you’re not trying to set yourself on fire, Professor.” the man says, frowning at Valery. He realizes that the smell of burning paper must be lingering in the air and chuckles nervously. “The cat jumped into my lap when I was lighting a cigarette.” he replies, pointing at the hiding cat.. Only her muzzle is showing, and she starts to hiss at the unwanted guest in her territory. The agent is clearly disgusted with the animal and turns back to Valery. “Tomorrow at 8 you will pick up your new badge at the reception of Kurchatov. They cannot wait, Proffesor.” he scoffs, looking around the apartment for one last time, before storming out again.

Valery lets out the breath he realizes he has been holding. That could have been interesting. He’s actually looking forward to have a daily job again, silently praying it will help him stay sane. Because already now he’s over his head looking forward to the next message from his companion. He has to get inventive enough to be able to respond to him, maybe even ask some questions? How is Boris doing? Is Ulana ok? Does she miss him as much as he misses her? Has she forgiven him?

That night he has troubles falling asleep, too many scenarios playing over in his mind. He tries walking around the apartment, sorting his notes, his books. His mind is restless. He went for a brisk walk earlier in the evening, suddenly desperate for the fresh air outside, not caring if the whole Kremlin is following right behind him. He was just around the corner of his favourite park when he noticed a lady. late thirties maybe. Quite tall, dark brown hair in soft curls, graceful but confident step. She turned around a man was running up to her to catch up with her. That’s when the air left his lungs, fleeing at the speed of light. He could have sworn he moved back in time, ten years ago to the streets of Minsk, as the woman looked so much like Ulana in one of her earlier pictures he found in her flat. His heart started beating fast, his senses flooded with her scent, the taste of her lips, her laugh ringing in his ear. He started to run after them, realizing how stupid and pathetic he is. Well, so much for staying on the rational and calm side. That’s when he decided it’s high time to go back home.He still cannot shake the memory out of his mind, silently cursing himself that he didn’t secretly steal at least one of her pictures. He wanted to, he truly did, but he just thought there will be more time, that he doesn’t need one, cowardly hiding behind security reasons (because blaming everything at KGB was so easy sometimes).

The need to be near her, to feel her fills his senses as he returns back to the bedroom. He collapses across the mattresses, his back hitting a weird bump. His hand slides there, searching for the source when in the gap in the middle he feels creased fabric. He pulls it out, sitting up. A smile lights up his face. It’s her shirt he stole from her, that got pushed between the mattresses and was forgotten short after. Ulana’s faint scent still lingers on the fabric and he feels like some pathetic teenager, who is hiding from his parents in his room, replaying the memory of his girlfriend, suddenly all tense and aroused. No one ever warned him that this is what his fifties would be looking like. His mind wanders back to the last time she wore that. Well, before she took it off.

Valery’s aparment, Moscow, late 1986 The soapy scent spreads from bathroom to the rest of the apartment. Ulana’s just taken a bath, allowing her sore muscles to relax in the hot water. She forgot her nightgown in her bag in the living room, so she decides to put and old shit she found after drying herself. The mirror is covered in fog due to the humidity in the small room. She takes a bath like this as an unnecessary luxury she would be able to spare herself of, but Valery has been too pushy to drop her practical self and try to enjoy the things they have while they still have them. She wipes the mirror with her palm, staring at her reflection. A small doubtful voice resonates through her head. And for how long are they going to have each other?

She studies the wrinkles on her face, her tired eyes, silver hair shining from her auburn color every now and then. It’s not just age that’s written all over her body, but it’s easier to pretend. At least with herself. But when she looks at him in the bad times, her thoughts fly to all the books and articles about radiation exposure. She finds herself studying him, calming herself no, this is normal, but this, is this already…? She shakes her head, frustrated with herself. Not now, not tonight. When she steps outside and appears in the living room, he’s sitting in his armchair, glasses on the very top of his nose, reading some book. He doesn’t notice her, and she smiles.Her steps are quiet, and almost like a cat she sneaks up to him and suddenly tears the book from his hands. Valery looks up at her with mixture of surprise and outrage. But when his eyes wander over her, his expression changes to a sly smile. She chuckles at him, places the now closed book on the shelf and takes his hand into hers. With the other one she slowly starts to unbutton her shirt. Her smile fades away, she bites down on her lip. She shakes her shoulders to push the fabric down. He lets go of her hand, helping her to get rid of the stupid piece of clothing. For some reason he doesn’t let it fall to the ground, instead he grabs it, taking Ulana by her hand, leading her to the bedroom. Let’s forget for now who they are. Soon after his finger follows the curve of her spine, touching the soft creamy skin of her back, so soft and warm, so inviting to be caressed and kissed. His lips follow shortly after, placing open mouthed pecks. When reaching her lower back, he decides to change things a bit, using his tongue instead. She shivers in surprise and pleasure, soft moan escapes her lips. He straightens his back, looking down at her. She’s simply beautiful from any possible angle you could think of. And right now, on all four, trembling with anticipation, skin slightly glistening with sweat, her brown hair messy.. That’s simply sight for gods, and right now it belongs to him, she belongs to him and he feels like on top of the world, because this precious woman loves him and trusts him. It’s as simple as that. He strokes her cheek with his palm, sliding down to her thigh and then back up. She parts her legs a bit more, back arching up, silent gesture to urge him where she wants him the most. It’s the sound of his name on her lips, an urgent moan full of passion, and he simply cannot hold himself any longer. His grip on her hips gets tighter as he slams into her in one swift motion. She’s so perfectly wet he could cry. World starts spinning and it’s so tempting just to come in that very moment, her walls clenching around him in sweet pleasure. She grips on the crumpled sheets, eyes closed. All the gossips were right, this was much better than the normal missionary position. She could feel him everywhere, filling her to the top, then leaving her completely, making her feel so empty out of sudden just to slide back into her. Sex sounds fill the silence of the room, how his hips meet hers, skin on skin, their uncoordinated moans and whispers. So this is what good sex feels like? He keeps one of his hands on her hip, following her small motions as she meets him in his thrusts, while the other one wanders up her back to the nape of her neck, tickling her hair. She knows what he wants to do, but maybe is too worried she wouldn’t like it and asking questions in the middle of sex seems just too ridiculous. Instead she just tilts her head backwards in a simple gesture and he just knows it’s a green light from her. Within a second his fingers comb through her hair, before clasping them, tugging gently just to cause a small pleasurable amount of pain. Breath hitches in her throat, as the shockwaves start to flow through her body, she collapses on her arms. He has to adjust himself, bending over her back. His hips move a bit higher and suddenly he’s hitting the perfect spot. Her muscles grip him even tighter and it’s too much for him. She whimpers loudly, not interested if anyone hears them. He swifts his leg, putting it foot down to get better angle, to be able to slam into her even harder and faster as he comes undone. Any barriers that would hold him back are gone, pure animal pleasure taking over him, over them both. That’s all it takes for her, and it takes her a moment to realize it’s her voice that fills the room, shouting his name. His breath is heavy on her back, as he tenses for the last time, filling her to the top. Her hair is sticking to her forehead and cheeks, smell of sex and sweat in the air. He wraps his arms around her waist, pressing her up to him, still deep inside of her. She finds the last piece of strength in her, as she sits up with him. He lays his forehead against her shoulder for a moment placing soft kiss. She turns her head around a bit to be able to see him and smiles. He looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers, the corners of his mouth up in a grin. Suddenly her arm moves up, bending in the elbow to be able to reach him and caress his hair. None of them speaks, enjoying the intimate silence. It’s their moment where nothing else exists apart the two of them and the bed they are sitting on.

He shifts up a bit, cupping her round breast, thumb encircling her sensitive nipple. He loves finding her favourite spots, burning them deep into his memory alongside with her expression, her eyes rolled back and gently biting on her lip. He decides to continue with his experiment, the other hand sliding down to where they are still joined, mix of her wetness and his seed sliding down both of their thighs. He flicks her clit one or two times, his hips bucking on their own as she clenches aroundt his softening cock. He then lets her go, deciding not to torture her anymore and also painfully realizing that he will need some time to go another round. She understands and just collapses into the covers, exhausted and content.

“Can you imagine what it would be like if we met 20 years ago?” she chuckles and turns her head to face him as he lies down next to her, propped on his elbow. “I think our scientist careers would be in real danger, because I wouldn’t be able to let you out of the bed,” he smiles and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Then it’s good we’ve met only now. It would be hard to choose between all the good sex and my job.” she jokes, but they both know it’s hint to an actual problem they would have been facing. It’s hard to imagine how the two of them would be able to work out when they were younger. Both too eager and dedicated to their job, making all the sacrifices to keep moving forward. But would you be able to sacrifice a relationship with someone who is possibly your soulmate to the job you love and that you feel is your vocation and vice versa? She quickly shakes the thought away from her head. “Scherbina says that ever since our visits started to be regular,I don’t seem as grim,” he suddenly blurts out and Ulana gapes at him. He shakes his shoulders apologetically. “What, that’s a good thing.” he grins and she kisses him on the jaw. “Please just tell me that Boris is the only one with whom you talk about this. Not only it would be dangerous, but I wouldn’t be able to talk to Tarakanov or Pikalov again, knowing you’ve been discussing our sex life,” she says, covering her eyes with her palm in desparation.He laughs out loud and starts kissing her, making a path from her belly to her neck.“Nah, they would be jealous and would want me to share,” he mumbles in between and Ulana looks at him, horrified. He laughs again at her expression and finally kisses her on the lips.

They both get more comfortable on the bed as Valery places a big cover on both of them, making sure Ulana’s back is all covered. He outstretches an arm towards her, she already knows this small habit of his and lifts her head so he could sneak his arm underneath. He needed to keep her close. She needed to be in his arms.They lie in silence, staring at each other. She counts the wrinkles on his face, memorizing them all over again. With every new one she makes a silent prayer before she closes her eyes and falls asleep.

#chernobyl hbo #fanfic #fanfiction #silence fanfiction #ulana khomyuk #valery legasov #valana #ulana/valery #Ulana Khomyuk/Valery Legasov #writings #multichapter #ao

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a-room-with-a-mew · 5 years

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Where Angels Fear to Tread by E. M. Forster

Fancy a read of an assured, stylistically-complicated and confident starter novel? Of course you do. Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) is a delightful début, and a harbinger of things to come from one of the masters of prose. Not quite the dizzying heights of A Passage to India – but he’s getting there and it’s wonderful to behold.

For here, the characterization is definite but rather shifting, the plot something of a roller coaster, and the message a little hazy – and yet it is saved – elevated – sky-rocketed by the sheer quality of the writing. Has there been a better writer of the English language, ever, than E.M. Forster? No. Why no knighthood? Why no Nobel Prize? Seems ridiculous to call him under-rated, because of course he's hugely respected and well-known in literary circles – but truly, there is no better novelist. He knows – to an absolute T – what a reader wants, and what will move them and stay with them and lift them above their average thoughts without bamboozling. Or muddling, as he would say himself. He is why we read.

Enough of that for now! Let's forge on ahead with Where Angels Fear to Tread, a title arch and knowing and yet apt in its hyperbole. Here we have the tale of the shock to the (class) system that a family of distinguished English gentlefolk must endure when they clash with the wholly different – and indifferent – ways and social mores of the continent, the far reaches of south Italy. England is rigid, Italy is relaxed – that is the axiom. Shackles of prim expectation and bland behaviour are shucked as soon as you cross the Channel. And yet is this completely true? Would Lilia Herriton agree? Debatable. What is so very wonderful about Forster – with all of his declarative statements, as stout and categorical as Wilde - “Romance only dies with life. No pair of pincers will ever pull it out of us” - yet much of his cultured-clipped wisdom is spoken with tongue firmly in cheek; ideals are made to be broken, and the bloody shards re-made with emotions: wobbly and weak, yet real and hard-won.

Plot

At a plot-level, this is a story based on, let's be real, the inevitability of sexual attraction flamed by charisma, followed by Romance failing, if not dying, and a tug-of-war / rescue mission over the bewildered result that everyone pretends not to want to win, when it's really their own internal feelings that are warring. There, a bit of metaphor / symbolism for you! And why not, the book is rife with it and it the poetic language really adds to the depth of feeling – maybe too much in places – but we'll get to style in a bit.

“To pot with the plot!” So says Forster himself in Aspects, in that he's declaring himself a fan of this Modernist method of highlighting insight and digging into the psyche, and the attempts to bridge the gap between humans – more intriguing than mere things happening. Things happen, so that bigger, better things might be felt. That's about the height of it here, certainly – the baby is hardly a person, certainly not a character, and a mere token. Italy and not it drew the harried Herritons southward, so that minds could be opened and self-interest dashed.

Characterization

Forster knows his characters inside and out – they are real, and dynamic, and feel things, and affect emotions while hiding others, and remember the pats and look helplessly to the future – humans in typeface. Of course, what with Forster's (effortless) propensity towards shifting PoVs – in order to enrich our experiences, and enforce his maxim that character development is the plot – “The object of the book is the improvement of Philip” - yet it's hard to pin down the characterization, to find these changes / improvements, because there are so many takes on each characters – we get their own opinions, and other people's opinion of them. Often these takes do not tally. And while this is realistic, of course – people fluctuate, and we might be liked by a person sat one side of us on the sofa, and hated by the person on our right – or vice versa, following an ill-judged remark. Yet in practice, it makes keeping track of the players and their characteristics a little difficult: there appear to be contradictions not only between their self-perception and behaviour, but between their accepted traits and what they do or what befalls them. Maybe it is a personal thing; maybe I have different ideas of nobility – in terms of humanity, not class.

Take Philip, the main character, as we would have it. At the start, he is introduced as a rather bland man, well under his mother's thumb, who fancies himself an intellectual, cold-hearted sort; occasional thoughts and visits to Italy have resulted in very mild verbal rebellions at home. Middle England's answer to 'rebel without a cause.' And yet he reacts deeply – to Lilia, Caroline, Gino, his mother, his role – but he compartmentalizes 'feeling' to bursts of joy at the opera, and sometimes seeing Caroline as a goddess. Sometimes not. He's hard to pin down, and not because he's elusive, but because he either feels nothing, or pretends not to. “I don't die – I don't fall in love. And if other people die or fall in love they always do it when I'm not there.” Now, what's to admire there? Couple that with the fact that he came to Italy on a baby-retrieval mission without caring whether he succeed or not, or enjoyed his stay, and he's basically his mother's tool, an ineffectual drifter. Curiously unheroic; I followed him through the story but I wouldn't want to sit down to coffee.

Naturally Philip falls in love (a tricky term in Forster I'll grant you) with his opposite: Gino, The Italian, and the inserter-into and usurper-of the simplicity of the Herriton family chug-along. I'm going to assume that Forster cultivated some deliberate duality – not necessarily development – in this character. In simple terms – he's our hottie. He's the hunk, the dream-boat, the finer; he sits on a wall, “his face in profile, and its beautiful contours drove artfully against the misty green of the opposing hills.. 'A born artist's model.'” It's that face that starts all the trouble, wouldn't you know. I had no visualization of Philip, but for Gino, I'm going to picture the most gorgeous Italian imaginable – Al Pacino in Dog Day Afternoon. Oh man. As the exemplar of boyishness, everyone is crazy about Gino, and he in turn rewards them with laughing, and back slapping, and flattering, and charm, and looking sexy. And yet he makes his short marriage a living hell for his wife. I have to say Forster described this awful relationship, the cruelty inflicted upon Lilia from Gino, in a way so very realistic and hard-hitting; the way Lilia is trapped in the house, literally unable to leave – as women in this village are not allowed to go anywhere on their own, and he has introduced her to no-one - while her husband spends her money drinking and laughing at her with his friends and cheating on her, is as horrifying as anything I've read in Stephen King. And then Gino raises his hand to her in temper and is lost from sympathy forever.

And yet it is Lilia who ultimately suffers – suffers and suffers and then dies, and for what? A particular saint, who spent most of her short life lying on her back in the garden, is the patron of this village of Monteriano. We are told that “In her death, as in her life, Santa Deodata did not accomplish much.” Lilia entombed. Elsewhere she is described as “appallingly ignorant” and guilty of the crime of admiring male company. And so - does she deserve to be trapped in an abusive marriage? Her pleas to her family for rescue willfully ignored, her entreaties to her one friend in England intercepted and destroyed – and she is not even given the dignity of ownership of her passion – she is dubbed “a coward” for not leaving her brutish husband. Her despair defines her: “Not Cordelia nor Imogen more deserves our tears.” If only Gino was as compassionate as Forster – he only, but only, wants a son, a miniature, maybe the only other person he could love as much as he does himself. Therefore Lilia's job is to give birth to one and die.

As Caroline's job is to exemplify the wonder and superiority of the noble, enduring, selfless virgin. Alas, she is a character who begins the novel as staunch, and measured, and self-contained - “John Bull to the backbone” - inevitably she falls and dwindles, to Lilia-like levels, and this is seen as tragic. In Italy she becomes insensible, tries to fight for reason and humanity but ultimately succumbs to – in her mind, mind! - the bad-boy, the charm, the baseless excitement of the rogue.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Ironically, Gino, and all the men here – and a lot of Forster's men – are about as far from simpatico as it's possible to be: they regard friendship as talking and back-slapping and laughing with a group of fellow men who are exactly like you. It's the woman, for the most part, who transgress; who try, and suffer for it, and reach real humanity while the men are solid outlines with no shadows or shades within.

Forster reaches peak 'women as majestic' in A Passage, with Mrs Moore.. He does indulge a lot in symbolism and signifying to get his point across, and sometimes they seem over-the-top simply because his characterization is so good that he doesn't need them! He doesn’t need to reinforce his insight, make it clear and bold-lined and primary coloured with familiar idioms and imagery and references.

But he did not merely set out to create characters, nor a story, but a book, an art-piece; he really is the consummate novelist and will work to include everything a novel ought have, and with his particularity brilliant style of writing and combining inner concepts with the world around – both physical and social – he invents new features as he requires, given the huge scope of his ambition.

Humour

Even though this story is – I’m going to stay dramatic, more than tragic – there is of course running through the novel a wonderful tone of lightness and arch humour, principally a raised eyebrow at human pretensions. Such a gentle sardonic thread can be seen generally in Forster’s writing, with the possible exception of A Passage to India, a book so mighty in its message that its weightiness can’t really be relieved – it’s heavy and it has to be. But here, though there are such dire consequences and true human suffering, Forster doesn’t cast us loose in a sea of despair, as many writers of modern drama might. It’s okay, you can chuckle! You must.

“It was now ten years since Charles had fallen in love with Lilia Theobold because she was pretty, and during that time Mrs Herriton had hardly known a moment’s rest.” Haw haw! A Forster sentence through and through. I love the way he portrays years’ worth of family discord in a few brilliant words, and such characterization of three whole players – right there. You are left to guess the chaos that ensued, and a clear picture is formed.

A great little facet of this book is Lilia’s daughter, Irma. It is not easy – especially in literary fiction – to portray child characters both realistically and relevantly – that they are both authentic and purposeful. Forster says in Aspects that all animal characters are cardboard – decoration only. Possibly the same could be said for children in grown-up fiction, especially in a book such as this where children, and the consummation of marriage and continuation of a stately old family are such pressing themes – could be mere plot devices. Irma holds up well though, she cracked me up. The cook breaks a knob off the oven: “'It is too bad,' said Mrs Herriton. Irma said it was three bad, and was told not to be rude.” Hoot, brings to mind the kind of capers Maurice’s sisters got up to at the dinner-table.

Elsewhere Mrs Herriton reads a letter from Lilia to Irma, “carefully correcting any grammatical errors, for she was a loyal supporter of parental authority. Irma listened politely, but soon changed the subject to hockey.” I mean the irony here is hilarious. Wodehouse worthy. And Irma’s reaction is spot-on.

As to the funnies, got to add a quickie: at the Opera, the audience begin to hum and tap their feet and make all kinds of ruckus. Harriet turns to Shush them. ““Shut it,” whispered her brother.” Haha, this sounds exactly what one would say nowadays! Glad to see this sass has been around for ages.

Humanism

Can’t talk about Forster without talking about Humanism! Well, you can, obviously, but here I’ve mentioned it so we’d better have a crack at it. Forster’s most famous refrain, as we all know, is ‘Only Connect’ from Howards End, about marrying the passion to the prose and the rest of it. But humanism, from what I rooted out, is “a rationalist outlook or system of thought attaching prime importance to human rather than divine or supernatural matters.” Not a lot of rationalism floating spare in Angels, though they do try. Taken all around, in summary, the novel could well be said to be the development of the characters of Philip and Caroline – the devolution of their intellects and good-sense - presumably, to fall in love with each other! Instead they gain understanding by falling in love with the same wild and passionate and un-checked person, aka Italy. And the whole story is of course based upon human errors in judgement, much more powerful and relentless and influential than any vague and unspecific divine power. And only connecting didn’t solve it – everyone ends up alone. This is a very mature first novel; Forster will not take the easy way out.

Action

I think it’s fair to say that Forster absolutely excels at dialogue, and portraying feelings, and giving us wry observations on the absurdity of human interactions. In terms of describing physical action sequences, I’m not as sure! Here’s where Gino reveals that he and Lilia are in fact already married. “Here he saw Philip’s face and it was too much for him. He gasped and exploded and crammed his hands into his mouth and spat them out in another explosion, and gave Philip an aimless push, which toppled him onto the bed. He uttered a horrified ‘Oh!’ and then gave up, and bolted away down the passage, shrieking like a child, to tell the joke to his wife.” I’m sorry – he what?? Kind of hard to picture.. I realize that this scene is important in that it’s alluded to later, as a ‘fracas’ between Gino and Philip, but seems like the kind of actions a toddler would do. Is this deliberate, one wonders.

Romance

A cast of passionate, disconsolate and buttoned-down characters; settings varying from the most normal, conventional and provincial English village to the wilds of Italy; journeying, familial strife, shotgun marriages, societal pressures, rescue missions – yes there’s scope for romance and it’s delivered. Italy will turn you romantic – release the inhibitions – but at what cost? Lilia is the kind of Cathy character here, the one who does exactly as she pleases and is a source of conflict to society, and pays the ultimate price for her passions. The most interesting thing her first husband did was die, and thus she swings the pendulum the other way entirely for her next beau – Gino is “good looking and indolent: therefore he must be stupid.” Not a lot of genuine love lost. They have a fantastic sexual relationship, it’s clear – but not much else.

In a way the marriage between Gino and Lilia is less plot-point and more direction for the central plot, of Caroline and Philip’s journey of self-discovery and wonder in Monteriano. Much more is invested by Forster in this friendship – it’s so charming and uplifting to see Philip’s eyes opening to Caroline, her soul and wholeness awakening – one minute she’s “good, quiet, dull and amiable”, and mere hours later, after her emotional efforts for the welfare of the baby, which – aha – involved an interview with Gino – she stands in a Gothic window, “following the curves of the moulding as if they might feel beautiful and strange.” Love Forster’s way of using imagery - place – culture – surroundings – to develop character and relationships. We now know more about Philip, Caroline, and even Lilia, in that we may understand more now her weakness for her beloved. Italy isn’t just a place - it’s a feeling evoked. It does things to you.

This conceit - that art and beauty and energy and inhibition can fire a person and direct them towards certain ideas, certain people, change minds and rescue souls - is further emphasized in the Opera scene, a lively, chaotic affair, championing music and its effects upon the masses of Monteriano. Both individually caught up in the romance: Caroline “was bathed in beauty within and without” and Philip forgot his muddle – there’s always one – and he “enchanted by the kind, cheerful voices, and laughter that was never vapid, and the light caress of the arm across his back.” Great use of human warmth and physicality – that of others’ – to portray Philip’s change, his coming home to himself as it were. This scene is Romantic in the poetical sense – overwhelmed with beauty and excitement.

Italy and Beauty

Here’s a head-scratcher: if Lilia was so wild and wanton and in need of civilizing, why on earth did they send her to Italy, of all places? In order to calm her down and temper her sexuality? Clearly the Herritons had not read A Room with a View, or they’d know that “One doesn't come to Italy for niceness… one comes for life. Buon giorno!” Which is Italian for Howdy, don’t you know. At any rate, the family were barking up the wrong tree; it’s commonly known that a person can’t visit continental Europe without falling in love – be it with the art, the architecture, the language, the food, the people. Although even Lucy Honeychurch wasn’t subversive enough to fall in love with a native – that might have been a bridge too far. Maybe she had read Where Angels; she had it tucked in her handbag beside the Baedeker for some summer reading. Better not pull a Lilia!

It’s Philip, the ‘sensible one’ who comes up with the brainstorm of this holiday: outsourcing Lilia’s cultural education in the hopes that it will transform her into – what, really? His female counterpart? Philippa? Some doing. According to her brother-in-law, Lilia is “a philistine, appallingly ignorant, and her taste in art is false. Still, to have any taste at all is something... Italy really purifies and ennobles all who visit her. She is the school as well as the playground of the world.” Now how could it be both? Give it up, Philip! You want to go to Italy because it appeals to your base sensibilities, and you pretend it’s to ‘learn’ about art objectively or some such. An opera will take care of that lofty intellectualism – just you wait.

Pace

Have to gush more about Forster’s pacing which is simply second to none. I can’t think of another writer who better portrays the passage of time so adroitly and neatly; periods are skipped over but you don’t feel left behind. The transition between scenes is amazingly deft. “A small thing at hand is greater than a great thing remote, and Lilia, misconducting herself upon a mountain in Central Italy, was immediately hidden.” Here’s a great use of the present participle tense (I think), and portrays so well the passage of time. Lilia’s misbehaviour is habitual now, it’s an ongoing thing, a dark fog in the background – for now. And the mystery of exactly what Lilia is doing is hinted at.

“The two ladies sat down and played cards. Philip read a book. And so they all settled down to their quiet profitable existence, and continued it without interruption through the winter.” Now we see something of the opposite – there’s no mystery to this winter–reading and card-playing, not a mountain in sight. And so very cleverly, and clearly, and quickly, the plot is moved on. Really adds depth to the story.

To Sum

That might just about say it all – this novel is short, and quick, and deft and satirical, and yet it’s deep, rich and meaty. Forster is famous for both his thrilling romance and his biting social observations; for throwing torchlight upon the hypocrisy of good manners and the damage that the divisions between people can do. All of these facets are on proud display here in his first outing, which took some three years from conception to publication. Thank God he persevered!

The best and most remarkable thing about Forster is that his fantastic turn of phrase and rather lofty background – having a classical, university education, early exposure to books and time to read them, a bit of money to travel and so on – have not confined him, in terms of sensibility and sympathy, to his tower. “I do not think that anyone is a typical anything. I am a novelist and my business lies with individuals.” All of the individuals in this book feel real, are people, not players, despite the dramatics and coincidences and beautiful contrasting settings. I would recommend it thoroughly; it won't nudge the dust off my favourite Forster novel but then again the competition is fierce!

#em forster #e. m. forster #where angels fear to tread #book review #booklr #books #20th century literature

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adamwatchesmovies · 5 years

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The Worst of 2018

Before we dig into my Worst of 2018 list, let’s make something clear. Making movies is hard. I may be criticizing people’s efforts but am fully aware that they’ve all accomplished far more than I have by making an actual movie. Even the worst film on this list is still a fully-functional production that someone somewhere might enjoy... theoretically at least. If you were somehow involved in anything made on this list, I know you can do better. With that said, I sat through all of these, some multiple times and suffered so it’s time for me to get my revenge. How many were on the list I made halfway through the year, and how many new entries have we got?

10. 2.0

I typically reserve my #10 spot for a movie so bad it’s good and 2.0 is just that. Part techno-horror, part supernatural thriller, part superhero adventure, part sci-fi action movie, it goes in all sorts of outrageous directions. This one’s a gem, a picture I’d like to bring home and show to my friends on our weekly movie nights to hear their screeches of disbelief. I had a blast with it but legitimately good? Nah.

9. Show Dogs

I have some affection for this film as well. It’s awful, even as low-grade children’s entertainment. The plot has no idea what it’s doing and can’t figure out its own rules. The special effects are dodgy, premise idiotic, and jokes bad. And yet, I treasure seeing it in theatres. Soon after its release, a specific scene stirred uproar within parents and critics alike. This prompted the studio to re-edit the film. The scene in question concerns Ludacris’ character, talking police dog Max getting ready for the dog show he needs to infiltrate in order to discover who has kidnapped a baby panda. His partner, FBI agent Frank Nicholas (Will Arnett) explains that part of the competition involves the dogs getting their genitals inspected by the judges. In real-life, it’s to ensure the animals are capable of breeding. Finding the idea of someone fondling his junk without his consent intolerable, Max is told to escape the situation by going to his “zen place”. I didn’t take offense to it but understand why others would. I doubt the scene is available in the home release’s deleted scenes menu so I count myself among the few who saw the original cut.

8. Selfie from Hell, Slenderman & Truth or Dare

I’m lumping these three together because they all suffer from the same problem. They were doomed from the start. “What if a game of Truth or Dare… was fatal?” What if you could only take 13 selfies before a supernatural entity came after you?”, “What if severe head trauma caused H.P. Lovecraft’s intelligence to plunge and he set “The Call of Cthulhu” in the 21st century?” seemed to have been the opening pitches for these would-be spookfests. None featured any scares or compelling characters. I doubt anyone will remember any of these by the time 2019 ends.

7. Robin Hood

Many of 2018's films ended by assuring us that more was yet to come. Robin Hood should've saved itself the embarrassment of being yet another aspiring franchise which failed to take off and been self-contained. It failed because it tried to be a superhero film when it should’ve simply been a movie about Robin Hood. This story by Ben Chandler steals so many ideas from Batman you almost forget to criticize the costumes, the impossible action sequences, and Jamie Foxx’s bad performance. It’s dripping with “tries too hard”.

6. Life of the Party

Boy does Melissa McCarthy need a new Agent. Her and Tiffany Haddish actually. Life of the Party is all-around lazy. It hardly has a plot. Instead, it throws one scene after another, praying something will stick. This film about a newly-divorced mother who goes back to college to reconnect with her daughter can’t even get its characters right. In some scenes, McCarthy’s Deanna is mousey and unable to give a speech to the class. In others, she’s such a partier she ends up wrecking everything for everyone around her. I hated the film’s conclusion worst of all, a deus-ex-machina of an ending which has nothing to do with anything and feels like it was hastily shot when director Ben Falcone and co-writer/spouse McCarthy realized the film they made wasn’t amounting to anything.

5. Fifty Shades Freed

Fifty Shades Darker was terrible. It began by immediately undoing the ending of the previous film but at least it was building up to something while introducing us its equivalent of the Legion of Doom, a trio of villains all of which would converge and attempt to ruin the relationship between Anastasia Steele, and Christian Grey… or not. This third and final chapter struggles to find something to do for the first three quarters and then suddenly introduces a thriller element before rapidly concluding it and showing us the end credits. The unrated version released on home video filled in a couple of holes (such as Kim Basinger’s disappearing character) but those holes shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Between the un-erotic sex scenes, we’re treated to lame melodrama and further proof this trilogy is completely oblivious to matters of love and relationship. Even if it had been well acted and gave fans some satisfaction by adequately tackling some of the bigger questions the series posed, it would’ve still been bad.

4. Venom

I didn’t want to listen to people who proclaimed Venom would never work. The character has appeared in solo adventures before. There’s nothing to say a talented writer couldn’t make one of Spider-Man’s most well-known archenemies work on his own. Or maybe not. This is an appallingly written film full of plot holes, vaguely defined powers, bad humor, and illogical actions. In many ways, it reminds you of films like Ghost Rider and Catwoman. In a way, it’s worse than either because everyone involved should’ve known better. Making its flaws doubly apparent is the film Upgrade, released earlier during the year. It essentially did what this film wanted to but better, funnier and more inventively. It’s extra funny that Upgrade features Logan Marshall-Green, who looks a lot like Tom Hardy, making the pair a perfect double feature if you like to compare bad movies with good ones and discuss them with friends.

3. A Wrinkle in Time and The Nutcracker and the Four Realms

These Disney films, the first directed by Ava DuVernay and the second by a combined effort by Lasse Hallström and Joe Johnston, wanted to be empowering female-led fantasy adventures. A Wrinkle in Time is historic in that it’s the first $100 million+ film directed by a woman of color. This makes it extra disappointing because it’s awful. Both tales are filled with developments who inspire you to say “but I don’t care”. Overrelying on visual razzle-dazzle, neither of these had any substance whatsoever. I blame the writers, who took the original stories and tried to make them into something they weren’t. Much of AWiT could’ve worked if the story had kept some of its novels' Christian themes. Then the evil black cloud who does evil for evil’s sake would’ve simply been Satan and wouldn't have seemed nearly as lazy and underwhelming. By attempting to force The Nutcracker and the Mouse King into the same mould as Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland (another bad film), you robbed the ballet of any potential charm. In many ways, these are worse than most of the others on my list because you keep hoping something would turn around and because they’re not obviously bad, at least not at first. They fill you with false hope.

2. Life Itself

I should’ve known this Dan Fogelman creation was trouble from the advertisements, which built it up as this epic tale containing all of the universes’ deepest truths. I sat there aghast as one corny development followed another. This tries to be poetry in motion, this grandiose tale about the bonds which connect us and not one second works. It’s utterly ridiculous, so bad it might be funny except you’ll be bored by its nearly 2-hour running time.

The Runner ups:

Nobody’s Fool & Night School

Both featured Tiffany Haddish who is rapidly burning through any goodwill she might’ve earned with her breakout role in Girls Trip.

Holmes & Watson

Bad movie but it made me laugh more than the other films on this list

Book Club

A film I’m kicking myself for not being harder on when I first reviewed it but take comfort in the fact it seems to have dropped off the earth completely.

1. The 15:17 to Paris

Agonizingly dull, The 15:17 to Paris was well-intentioned. That doesn’t translate to “entertaining”. Most of this film’s 94 minutes are spent watching the real life Spencer Stone, Anthony Sadler and Alek Skarlatos vacationing through Europe, periodically flashing back to the time when they met and were the real-life non-actors were played by equally bad child performers. I hated this flat slab of propaganda masquerading as entertainment so much after it was over I had to turn to the other people around me and ask them what we just saw.

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metalandmagi · 5 years

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October Media Madness!

It’s the last day of the month, so you know what that means! What-no not Halloween! It’s time to see how one person wasted their time this month by keeping track of all the media they consumed! And if you thought October would mean a lot of horror movies and books and TV shows...you are going to be very disappointed because I’m a fucking wimp who hates horror.

September media

Movies!

Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: Scott Pilgrim, aka the most intentionally unlikable protagonist ever, has to defeat the seven evil ex-boy...uh I mean exes of the cool girl he’s dating. Yeah, I’m super late to the Edgar Wright party, but since this movie was finally available on Netflix I figured it was time. And it’s pretty good aside from the fact that Scott is the worst. But at least he owns up to it in the end. It’s crazy over the top ridiculous, has tons of little details that film theorists love to salivate over, and Scott’s roommate Wallace is hilarious. I just wish I could hear what Michael Cera says half the time. Oh well, there’s nothing good or bad I can say about this movie that hasn’t been said before. 8/10

Coraline: Coraline Jones, an imaginative young girl with inattentive parents who has just moved into a new apartment, discovers a secret door that leads to a world where everything is better, and everyone has buttons for eyes. However, under the perfect exterior, things are more sinister than they seem. I got the urge to re-watch this because it’s freaking October, and although I don’t watch horror movies, I felt obligated to watch something at least kind of Halloween-ish. And I stand by my long held opinion that this is the all time creepiest movie marketed for children ever made. Literally everything about this movie is creepy. There’s creepy music, creepy dolls being made and following people around, creepy cats, creepy people with buttons for eyes, creepy ghosts of children, creepy children with their mouths shown shut...the list is endless. And Laika never fails to make beautifully animated stop motion. 9/10

Sierra Burgess is a Loser: The latest film in Netflix’s attempt to dominate the rom-com genre, in which an unpopular high school girl ends up texting a handsome jock while leading him to believe he is texting a gorgeous cheerleader named Veronica who also goes to her school.

Okay, this isn’t a bad movie, so let me start with the good. I appreciate the message of how you need to make yourself stand out to colleges and how high school in general is becoming a toxic competitive environment. There’s a lot of good material about living up to expectations and stereotypes, both from Sierra’s side and her partner in crime Veronica’s. And speaking of Veronica, I was completely blindsided by how much of a great character she was and how much she grew throughout the film. I also liked Sierra’s best friend and the love interest, even if they were a little generic.

That being said...I didn’t like Sierra. When main characters intentionally lead people on for no good reason (and thinking some guy you’ve just met isn’t going to text you back because you’re not “conventionally attractive” is not a good reason) it annoys the hell out of me. Not only does she lie through texting him, but she and Veronica lie to his face multiple times. She also does something really horrible to Veronica because of a misunderstanding that could have been avoided if she taken five seconds to use some common sense. She also thinks she’s above doing a simple homework assignment for her poetry class because she wants to be different. I realize she needs to stand out in order to get recommendations for college, but come on. And finally, when she’s upset about how she looks, she blames her parents because her mom is attractive??? Yes it is frustrating to have these brilliant “conventionally attractive” parents, but they always try to build her up, as opposed to Veronica’s mother who only tears her down. I DID NOT HATE HER CHARACTER, but I think she could have been portrayed better. The other major thing that bothered me is that there is the complete lack of proper conflict resolution. All the problems and hurt feelings just magically go away in order to have a happy ending. Overall, the movie’s just okay. 7/10

Howl’s Moving Castle: Sophie, an ordinary girl who gets cursed by a witch, turns into an old woman and ends up working for a wizard who steals hearts. It feels like Studio Ghibli’s version of beauty and the beast, except Howl is the beauty with a questionable personality, and Sophie is the “beast” who whips him into shape...until the second half of the movie anyway. I’d prefer to watch an entire movie of old woman Sophie interacting with the other characters rather than deal with the war aspect of the plot. Anyway, the animation is awesome, and I appreciate the English voice cast...except for the fact that no one had the good sense to use Crispin Freeman as Howl instead of just having him as Turnip-Head! I know lots of people have talked about the differences between the book and the movie, but I like how the movie portrays that even though being old is physically painful, it can also be emotionally freeing. Either way I think Sophie is a great character with a fun sense of humor! 8/10

First Man: The story of Neil Armstrong and the years leading up to the moon landing...which apparently a lot of people didn’t like? Some people are butthurt about there not being a shot of planting the flag (which if they actually saw the movie they would know the focus of the scenes on the moon were to show Armstrong dealing with wonder and grief, NOT rallying together as Americans). Some people are unhappy that an American hero can be portrayed so negatively, and some people just thought it was boring and dragged a lot…

Okay, yes, the movie is a drama that does not portray Armstrong in a glowing light, and yes there are certain scenes that go on too long. BUT I really liked this movie...and this is coming from someone who doesn’t like Ryan Gosling. It is a family drama that captures how different people respond to grief and stress set in the backdrop of the space race. I also liked learning about this period in history and the controversy around the space program in general. It was beautifully shot and had very creative music choices, which was the main reason I saw it in theaters. I came away from it awed and terrified that we basically sent these people to the moon in freaking tin cans, and that in the sixties men shunned their emotions so much that they wouldn’t hug their children before going to space! Overall, it was good in a solid way, but it did drag a bit. 7.5/10

Mama Mia: Another protagonist named Sophie is getting married and invites the three men who could each possibly be her father to the wedding. But who cares about the plot, the main purpose of the film is to show women having fun with their friends! This movie...isn’t exactly good, but it 100% knows what it wants to be and accomplishes that. It’s a wacky, ridiculous, musical romp that people only watch with their friends when they’re plastered because they want to hear ABBA songs. It’s the very definition of a guilty pleasure movie, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I will say that it’s harder for me to relate to because I don’t have friends that I act this ridiculous with, and sometimes it gets to be a bit much. Although, I have seen the Broadway musical and remember absolutely loving every minute of it...so maybe it’s just the movie overplaying it. Oh well, it’s just something fun to have on in the background or watch when you need cheering up! It’s a 9/10 for being accomplishing what it wants and a 6/10 as an actual movie.

Ant-Man and the Wasp: In this Marvel filler episode between Infinity War and Captain Marvel, Scott is under house arrest and Hope tries to get her mother out of the quantum realm. Okay, this was a fun movie with some great moments, but it definitely had its issues. For a movie called Ant-Man and the Wasp, the two did not do much fighting together...or at all until the end. It felt more like an origin to their partnership than a team up movie (and I’d rather have a Wasp and Black Widow team up movie...or all the Marvel women team up movie). It also couldn’t figure out who the villain should be. It’s like they realized half way through writing it that Ghost was way too sympathetic and cool and had to come up with a bunch of more forgettable villains. And because this was more of a hot potato rather than a heist, I didn’t think it was as fun as the first movie overall. HOWEVER I still really enjoyed the inventive action and the characters. I will always watch 2 hours of Evangeline Lilly kicking ass, and Paul Rudd being himself. And I am convinced that Marvel is using The Adventure Zone route of needing competent women to solve everyone’s problems. But the heart of the movie is really family. Hank and Hope, Scott and his daughter, and even Ghost all had very compelling stories that drew me in every time. And that post credits scene...I knew it was coming, but come on! Marvel is the only current studio who can basically do a horror movie “The End…?” in their credits now. 7.5/10

The Chronicles of Narnia-The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe: The Disney version of the classic C.S. Lewis book; come on we all know the story. Okay, I watched this for the first time in several years because I also read the book this month. And holy cow, when you see what material the movie had to work with, this is a freaking masterpiece. It takes a very simple children’s book and turns it into an epic fantasy! The score, the little details, and the setting are all perfect. All the characters are so real and fleshed out AND ACCURATELY PORTRAYED FOR THEIR AGES! All four siblings are struggling with something, and the actors do a great job considering they were actual children while making this! I am so angry that Disney let this property’s potential slip through their fingers because I truly believe that if they kept making movies like this, it could have been their Harry Potter by now. Prince Caspian was also excellent, though I don’t remember much of Dawn Treader, but I think if they put the money and effort into continuing this franchise it could have been great.

One thing I don’t appreciate about the movie is how they reduce Edmund’s mental journey. I have always especially loved Edmund as a character, and something the movie fails to mention is the fact that APPARENTLY in the book the Turkish Delight is enchanted to make whoever eats it think only of eating more and more until THEY EAT SO MUCH THAT THEY DIE?! He’s not just a greedy kid. And there’s a lot more to his time with the Witch that makes his actions easier to understand. Anyway it definitely goes down as one of the best book to movie adaptations I’ve ever seen, and it is on my very short list of movies that are better than the books. 10/10

Books!

The Chronicles of Narnia- The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis: It’s the first Narnia book; we all know the plot. I am one of the many people who had this series read to them as a kid, but it’s been like...eleven years since I actually read these books for myself. Even then I only got to The Horse and His Boy before stopping because it was boring as hell. I’ve been wanting to re-read the series all year, and with only the Disney movies in recent memory, imagine my surprise when I found out that Lewis’s writing style is absolutely bananas! I think he’s acting as some omniscient narrator, but his style is so stream of consciousness it’s hilarious! He constantly addresses the audience in these 2007 fanfiction author-esque asides. The Pevensies are the most posh, old-timey sounding British kids ever, and it’s amazing to visualize children that actually speak like this. Everything happens so quickly because it is 100% meant to be a children’s story, not this epic adventure we all associate with the movies. So...if you’ve never read it before definitely check it out just to discover how utterly wild everything is. My only real complaint is that it’s kinda sexist, and no one except for Edmund gets a character arc. Even though Susan gets a bow and Lucy gets a dagger, they’re treated like they shouldn’t be fighting because they’re girls and not...oh I don’t know...because they’re children! 7/10

The Ladies Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzie Lee: The second installment of...idk...the “Guide” series? I talked about the first book, The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue in my May Media Madness, and this book is just as good! This series takes place in the 1700s, and while the first book follows arrogant bisexual disaster Monty, his (boy)friend Percy, and his sister Felicity through a romp across Europe, this book follows Felicity and her friends on a...let’s just say “scientific expedition” involving pirates. The less you know about the plot going in the better. And did I mention her friends include a badass Muslim pirate princess and an Elle Woods-esque dog loving naturalist? And also did I mention Felicity is CANONICALLY revealed as ARO/ACE?! It’s strongly hinted at in the first book, and in this book Mackenzi Lee basically shoves any doubt about it out the window. It’s fun, hilarious, and also heartbreaking at the same because of all the challenges each character faces because they’re ambitious women in this time period. Sometimes it feels a little heavy handed in its feminist messages, but you can’t deny it’s not accurate. I’m really only saying that because I am a woman, and the struggles are nothing I haven’t seen or read before. Anyway, this is a fantastic series that I highly recommend to anyone looking for a fun read, and it gets bonus points for including Monty and Percy being disgustingly in love together! 1000/10

Dear Evan Hansen the Novel by Val Emmich (and also Steven Levenson, Benj Pasek, and Justin Paul):

Buckle up.

I really love the Dear Evan Hansen musical (which I talked about in my August Media Madness.) The novel is almost a word for word adaptation of the musical, in which Evan, a teenager with anxiety, writes a letter to himself that is stolen by a boy who commits suicide, leading everyone to believe Evan and the boy, Connor, were best friends because they assume Connor wrote the letter to Evan. There is a lot I could say about this adaptation, but the number one thing is: I really don’t know if people who haven’t seen the musical or heard the soundtrack will like it as much. The strength of Dear Evan Hansen is mainly in its performances and its music, and while they tried to work the music in as best they could, I enjoyed the story more because I can link it back to the actors’ performances. Yes, the story is interesting and the message is important, but I honestly don’t know how much people going in blind will like the writing and how the characters are portrayed. Overall, it seemed like a well written fanfic- in a good way, not a Harry Potter and the Cursed Child way. That being said, I did really enjoy a lot of things about this book. They expanded on a lot about Evan’s relationship with his absent father and the aftermath of the big lie. They also expanded on a lot about Connor…

I honestly don’t know how I feel about Ghost Connor. Yes, I’m glad Connor shows up as a ghost in the book. What he doesn’t do is ACTUALLY INTERACT WITH EVAN...LIKE AT ALL! The best parts of the show are when Connor, as a figment of Evan’s imagination acts as a comedic buffer and his “moral center.” However, here ghost Connor exists to give snippets of Connor’s life. He barely comments on what Evan is doing at all even though he sees everything. All of Connor’s sections made me feel like the author was going through the DEH tag on AO3 and picking things to throw in. I liked his sections, but the writers really missed the more entertaining story of having Connor actually commenting about the shit Evan is doing.

So overall, I’d say watch the musical if you can find a bootleg, or at least listen to the soundtrack and then read the book. It was very enjoyable, although I think the ending dragged a bit in its quest to give more closure than the musical. 8.5/10

Bonus Manga

Shimanami Tasogare: Tasuku Kaname, a closeted boy starting his first year of high school meets a mysterious woman named Anonymous who helps him finds solace in a lounge run by other members of the LGBT+ community. This is the kind of manga that really hits and misses for me. It does a great job at portraying the struggles of a community with different sexualities and gender identities, and it has some really great characters and beautiful moments that I really think would be even better animated. But there are some character arcs that I feel are really...incomplete. It feels like the author was rushed into finishing the manga and did the best they could, but certain characters come off as major hypocrites or suddenly act like their arcs never happened. I also appreciate having an asexual character play such a big role, but the chapter where she talks about her identity as a person is just kind of...bizarre. Not to mention I barely understood what was happening for the first couple chapters because everything Anonymous says is so vague. There’s a lot I could say about this manga, but really I think it’s something everyone should read for themselves (and you’ll definitely need your tissue boxes). 8/10

TV Shows!

Arrested Development: “The story of a wealthy family who lost everything and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together.” Aka Ron Howard narrates the shenanigans of the worst people you’ll ever see. Yes, I finally got around to watching this, and yes the first three seasons are hilarious. It’s got the same beats as a soap opera (twins, adoption, losing limbs in seal attacks), but in a sitcom format it’s genius. The fourth and fifth (or at least what there is of the fifth) are just nothing special in my opinion. I thought the fourth season was structured terribly, and once the family starts getting into politics the show tries to be a form of satire that just doesn’t work for it. Plus I live with a family of Trump supporters; so it’s not as funny when you have to live with the racist people the show is making fun of who take all the “wall” stuff seriously. 8/10

Documental: A Japanese...social experiment/documentary/game show type thing on Amazon Prime wherein 10 comedians all get locked in a room together and attempt to make each other laugh without laughing themselves. The twist is each of them contribute 1 million yen to play, and the winner gets the pot of 10 million yen. In the first season, the show is more interesting as a social experiment than it is funny. You’ll like it if you like Japanese comedy. But the thing about Japanese comedy is...well, just picture an episode of Osomatsu-san, with all the disgusting and bizarre shit they do, and then picture real people. Though I do love seeing the faces everyone makes when they’re trying not to laugh! HOWEVER, the second season is so much better. I was laughing so much every episode that it hardly felt like the same show. They also changed the format a little so there would definitely be a winner at the end of the time. There’s still gross weird shit, but it’s a much better season. I give season 1 a 6/10 and season 2 an 8.5/10

Over the Garden Wall: In case you’ve been skipping the entire season of autumn since 2014, OTGW is a 10 episode miniseries that aired on Cartoon Network detailing the journey of two brothers Wirt and Greg who are lost in a mysterious wood called “The Unknown.” But really the whole thing is like a stuck in Purgatory story. It’s one of those shows that goes from adorable and funny to dark as fuck real quick. I think it’s impossible to go through the fall season without watching this at least once. This is another one of those things where there’s nothing I can say about it that hasn’t already been said. The atmosphere is perfect for Halloween, the characters are great (Elijah Wood voices Wirt, and it’s the best), and there are so many hidden clues that after it aired we all demanded a Gravity Falls crossover…

I could go on. This show is perfect except for the unnecessarily silly school teacher episode...and fact that it goes by too fast...and also the fact that now I know Elijah Wood has an adorable singing voice, and I’m salty that he didn’t really sing in Lord of the Rings. This is the atmospheric “watch it once a year” type of show that we desperately need more of...it doesn’t have to be the same characters or even have the same messages, but dang it Cartoon Network you can’t just give us this masterpiece and walk away!!! 10/10

Yuri On Ice: Yes, the figure skating anime. This is Tumblr so I doubt I need to post the summary of the show, but I do talk about it in my Hufflepuff Anime recommendations post. Since I couldn’t watch the Yuri On Ice marathon (which was coincidentally held on my birthday!) I decided to have my own dang marathon. There’s just so much to love about this anime: the music, the animation, the characters, the diversity, the humor, and the accuracy to the sport. But I think the main reason I love this show so much is because, as someone who watches a lot of sports anime, I really appreciate this show doing something different and focusing on ADULTS WHO ACTUALLY RELY ON THE SPORT AS A CAREER and using drama that way instead of the main source of angst being “we have to win the match for our senpai!” This is one of those shows you can watch a million times and still find new things to love! 10/10

Podcasts!

I don’t know why I made a separate section for this, since I only listened to one.

Hey Riddle Riddle: A podcast with three hosts that go talk about riddles and puzzles (aka puzzies and riddies) and role play various ridiculous answers to them. I started listening to it because Justin McElroy was on an episode, and it was pretty funny. The podcast is interesting and entertaining, except for the fact that sometimes their role playing and improve can go on for too long, and they don’t know when to let a joke die. Also one of the co-hosts is really annoying, but the other two make up for it. 8/10

Honorable Mentions

Camp Camp released a Halloween episode called Arrival of the Torso Takers and I watched it...probably four times...I don’t have a problem.

Some shows I watch on actual television came back this fall! Bob’s Burgers, Crazy Ex Girlfriend, Fresh Off the Boat, Speechless, Modern Family (yes I still watch that), and The Good Place!

I don’t know if this was a leak or what, but there’s a new My Little Pony christmas Hearthswarming special, and guys...I thought it was pretty great. Say what you want about this show, but it knows how to do holiday episodes. Anyone who has been a fan for a long time or even fans who have fallen off the show will probably love it. It’s very sweet and never went in the direction I thought it would.

And last but not least, shout out to all the anime coming out this fall...there’s just...so much to watch...please help...

#media madness #long post #hey riddle riddle #yuri on ice #otgw #documental #arrested development #shimanami tasogare #dear evan hansen #the ladies guide to petticoats and piracy #the chronicles of narnia #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #ant man and the wasp #first man #mama mia #sierra burgess is a loser #scott pilgrim vs the world #howls moving castle #coraline

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gravity-what · 6 years

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Falling into freezing water isn’t ideal

For some reason my first attempt at posting this went wrong and the ‘read more’ didn’t work so I’m just going to re-post it

And now I finally get to post this!!

This is my secret Santa gift for @wannabeagrunklefan !!

WARNING: Stancest

Content is SFW and consists of Ford taking care of Stan when he falls into freezing water. Multiple times…

Falling into freezing water isn’t ideal

“Go on without me.”

“Stanley please.”

“It’s too late, I’m done for sixer! Tell the kids I love them.”

“Stanley stop, you are being unre-”

“Tell Soos he can have the shack but he should probably keep out of the secret boarded up part of the attic where-”

“Okay now you are just being ridiculous.” Stanford sighed as he put the bowl of soup down that he had been trying to feed to Stanley. “Which, given everything you have said to me in the course of this conversation, is impressive.”

Stanley sniffled and glared at Ford from where he was bundled within an overabundance of blankets and propped up on a number of pillows. “Well you wouldn’t have to listen to it if you just whipped up some miracle cure. I know you have something on you somewhere. You just like making me suffer.”

Ford shook his head at that and didn’t have to try too hard to bite back a smile. Stanley truly did look miserable bundled up in his blankets on their bed with the radiator pulled as close as they could move it over to his side. Ford placed the soup down, a little precariously, on one of the shelves next to the, frankly too small for two grown men to share, bed and moved to crawl up next to him. Stanley glared at him as he did but his arms and legs were too bundled up to stop Ford from easily shifting them about so Stanley was pressed against Ford’s side, bundled in his arms now too as well as the blankets. He kissed softly at his forehead at Stanley sniffled and smiled softly down at him.

“I’m sorry Stanley. If you had an actual infection I would be able to do more. As it is, you’re just cold and warming you up too fast with something I invent would just make it worse.” He apologized, kissing at his forehead again “if you do get sick from this though I do have something I can give you but for now it’s blankets, warm soup, and me until that chill of yours is gone.”

Stanley grumbled at that but most of the fight had left him when Ford had taken him up in his arms. His eyes had even fluttered closed and he looked like he was closer to sleep then he had been since his accidental tumbled into the Arctic Ocean. Ford was tempted to try and keep him awake, to insist he eat the soup, but rescuing Stanley had taken a lot out of him too and he wasn’t as young as he used to be. Neither of them were.

He moved Stanley a little more so he could rest his head against his chest and leaned his own head back against the bed’s headboard, eyes slipping closed as he let sleep start to pull at him.

He tried not to snicker too much as the memory of Stanley trying to fight a very determined penguin for his hat surfaced in his mind just as sleep started to take him. Of all the ways Ford had imagined they might end up in some danger, a too-curious penguin and a smooth patch of ice hasn’t been it.

Ford wondered if the recording was as hilarious as experiencing It in real life.

—–

Ford woke up, blinking, to soft light falling across his face from the porthole next to the bed and the smell of freshly buried coffee. He blinked, rubbed hugs eyes only to hit the glasses he had forgotten to take off, and tried to put together where he was and why he was.

The bed sank, A cup of coffee was shoved into his hands, and a warm body scooted in next to him. Right, Stanley.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” He told him groggily as he brought the coffee up to his lips to sip. It was still near boiling and just how he liked it. “How are you feeling.”

In answer Stanley blew his nose loudly next to him before throwing the tissue on the shelf where he had shoved all the others, and picked up his own coffee, prepared far sweeter than Ford ever preferred. “I’m awake aren’t I?” Stan replied anyway with a grumble as he drank his own coffee “head feels like a balloon and I’m still aching but I can’t tell if it’s normal aching or ‘fell into ass-cold ice water’ aching.” He shifted, pressing closer to Ford.

Ford balanced his coffee in one hand and brought a hand up to run along Stanley’s forehead. He couldn’t feel a fever at least and Stanley didn’t seem to be shivering any more.

“I can give you something for the congestion.” Ford promised him, and left his hand drop. “And probably something for that aching too but I don’t want to start you down the path of daily pain medication.

“Gee sixer. Love you too.” Stanley grumbled, but there was no real heat to it, or maybe it was just hard to convey true annoyance with two clogged up noses.

Ford smiled and shifted to look out the window. It is still fall and so the sky is in a puerperal twilight that makes it impossible to tell exactly what time it is. Still, October will be over soon and the arctic will be forced into a darkness that wouldn’t end until the next spring. Ford was tempted, still, to stay up there longer to explore, even in the never ending night, but there were other anomalies to explore, closer to civilization, that they could buffer out the winter exploring.

Stanley continued to sniffle next to him.

“I’ve been thinking of heading down to Norway.” Ford finally says, conversationally as he drinks his coffee, “there is a small but persistent anomaly that keeps pinging from there. Could be fun.”

Stanley shifted at that but simply laid his head on Ford’s shoulder. He probably had a headache too from the congestion now that Ford thought about it. “Norway hu? Alright. At least I can get a decent drink there.”

Ford smiled.

————

The next time Stanley fell into the water was freezing North Sea in a near drunken stumble as he tried to hit on seals over a cliff edge as they were passing around the edge of Scotland.

“I told you those weren’t selkies” Ford complained as he brought Stanley some hearty stew from the pub they were currently renting the room above, just until Stanley started feeling a little better and could return to the colder boat. “They have smaller bodies then the ones you were yelling at and a more streamline build.” Ford insisted as he rose spoon up to Stanley’s mouth. Stanley glared at him angrily from where he was bundled up but obviously didn’t want to remove the blankets from around himself as he leaned forward to take a bite. He nearly coughed at the unexpected heat but managed to swallow it down so he didn’t spray soup everywhere before glaring again at Ford.

“Are you trying to kill me!? That stuff is boiling!” he complained, pulling the blankets closer so he could glare over them. Ford looked down at the soup before taking a bite himself and nearly choking before putting it aside. “Your right. Let’s…let that cool a while.” He mumbled, placing it on the bedside counter before standing up from the old wooden chair he had pulled to Stanley’s side.

“At least now we both have burnt tongues.” Stanley mumbled into his blanket as he shifted to lay down. Ford came back over after a moment with one of his new journals and a pen and started to sketch. Stanley turned to look at him, eyes half lidded as he did so, but soon the scratch-scratch-scratch of pen on paper pulled him down into sleep.

He was woken later, though it was hard to tell how much ‘later’ with the near perpetual night, by Ford shaking his shoulder lightly. “How are you feeling?” was asked softly as Stanley sat up with a groan, his back popping dangerously as he did so.

“Warmer.” he admitted reluctantly as he looked over to the small wood fireplace that Ford had built up sometime while he had slept. “How long was I out?”

“Only a few hours.” Ford reassured him as he picked up his abandoned journal and turned it so Stan could see the new entry. A picture of Stan falling into the ocean as he yelled at seals on one page and a picture of him sleeping bundled and sleeping in too many blankets on the next. The area in between was filled with the written account of the story and a small diagram was added to show the difference between selkies and normal seals.

Ford smiled at Stan over the book.

Stan threw a pillow at him.

————

The next time Stanley fell into freezing water was far more concerning than getting on the wrong side of a penguin or trying to hit on seals.

The next time involved a kelpie.

They had made their way to scotland after a while of exploring Norway and Ford had thought nothing of letting Stanley stretch his legs by going for a walk into the port-city they had landed in. Ford had needed time to finish off his entries into the journal and Stanley had been restless. There shouldn’t have been any harm. They had arrived in the mid-morning and the sun would be up for a while yet.

And then Stanley didn’t return.

Ford cursed himself for the way he last track of time as he worked and ran out of the boat. He nearly ran as he asked around the town for a man like him but there was little help to be had and Ford swore he would install a locating chip into Stanley’s hearing aids so he could find him in situations like this!

But find him he did: nearly too late as Stanley’s lips were already turning blue as he seemed to not realize the danger he was in. He was sitting on the edge of a outcropping of rocks, bare-feet dangling into the water and was more ice then not, as he chatted animabably with another old man sitting next to him doing similarly yet who seemed unaffected by the cold. Ford could only just see the hooves under the water but the duckweed in his hair was pretty obvious.

“Stanley!” Ford had called out, rushing forward to try and pull his brother away from the waters edge, only to startle the other man so badly that he transformed back into a horse right then and their, knocking Stanley from his perch as the Kelpie sprang away back into the water.

“I knew exactly what he was.” Stanley insisted much later that night as he sniffled in Ford’s hold. They were both bundled under the blankets at a local hotel as Ford had had to jump into the water to drag Stanley out.

It was also a small excuse for Ford to hold Stanley for an extended period of time but Stan would likely tease him if he admitted that so instead he leaned his head down to press a kiss to Stanley’s bare shoulder. Ford hadn’t brought a spare set of clothing when he had run from the boat and he wasn’t going to waste the time going all the way back to the boat on a Scottish winter dusk with a near frozen Stanley.

Besides, naked bodies were far better at spreading heat to one another.

“I just lost track of time.” Stanley went on with a huff, pressing back into Ford’s body at the kiss and Ford couldn’t help but wind his arms around him even tighter.

“You were in the freezing cold with your feet are in freezing water. That’s a little more than ‘losing track of time’” Ford mumbled against the back of Stanley’s neck. “How are your feet? Still numb?” He asked, truly worried that there might be something terribly wrong with them. He pushed his own feet forward between Stanley’s to check that they were warming up just in case Stan tried to lie.

“Their fine.” He insisted, shuffling back slightly to get more of Ford’s warmth. “Tingling.” He added when Ford pinched his side for the lie. “But they’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.” The last part was mumbled against Stanley’s pillow and Ford let out a low sigh. Both he and Stanley had been through much worse he knew but neither of them had been quite so old.

“Alright Stanley.” Ford mumbled as he held him a little tighter. “But I’ll be keeping an eye on them just in case.”

————-

The next time Stanley fell into water Ford pushed him in.

Stanley came up sputtering and glaring as Ford smiled down at him from their boat.

“Welcome to the Mediterranean Sea!” He told Stanley happily as he reached down to help pull him up. “Better than falling into the Arctic or north seas right?”

He was pushed into the water himself for that but he figured it was probably worth it.

#stancest #stancest fanfiction #sfw

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asteverogersfan · 6 years

Text

Steve Wins (Y/N) Back PART 2!

HELLLOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Omg I’m soooooo freaking sorry that it’s taken me this long to write the second part to “Steve wins (Y/N) Back”!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m literal trash and I’ll take all the hate you guys probably have for me. But I think it’s been a long enough time that everyone’s forgotten about me and doesn’t care :(

(omg my macbook was at an extremely low battery amount and I had such a hard time untangling my charger and getting it plugged in... Ugh, could you imagine)

Anyway! Here it finally is! I really do not have any good excuses, or any cool exaggerated stories my (obviously inconsistent) writer self could come up with as to why it’s taken me this long to post it… I pretty much completely forgot about it after the few times I actually took to sit down and write this. It’s weird that it’s finally written. It’s not just a vague concept I have in my head. That’s the cool part of putting in hard work into something you’re passionate about….

Says the person who legit just took, what like two years to write a second part?

I like to think of this as a novel series in which this is the second instalment to…. ahem

Anyway, TRY to enjoy. I know there’s no way I can make up for how long this one has taken me. I should really call this “ASTEVEROGERSFAN Wins Readers Back” because that’s what I’ll need to do probably :( haha

Really, the only abbreviations you’ll need to decode in here are (Y/N) = Your Name

and (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name

READ THE FIRST PART BEFORE YOU READ THIS ONE!!! or don’t if you want some confusion in your life I guess…? k

—————————————————————————————————-

“Tony, what’s even going on?”

You complained while you were still carrying your briefcase and work files that Tony didn’t even bother helping you with in the first place.

“Don’t you worry, you’ll just want to see this as soon as possible, follow me!”

You struggled to keep up with Tony when he immediately jetted off in his Iron Man suit down the corridor and disappeared into a distant turn off.

“Yup, this is just some GREAT following going on.” You mumbled sarcastically.

You lost track of how many doors down the hallway it took for Tony disappear into one. You contemplated turning around and just giving him a call after you’ve settled into your dorm. You’d have a much easier time keeping up with Tony once you’ve packed everything away and washed up. It was a nuisance to haul your bag of S.H.I.E.L.D. reports and files down the hallway when the long days never ceased to exist in your life as of late.

You passed intersection after intersection of hallways to no avail. But as soon as you were about to turn around and give up looking for wherever Tony went, the in-the-flesh original man of the hour jumped out in regular attire.

“I thought you’d never catch me!” He exclaimed in your face.

You felt your heart jump out of your chest in your frightened state.

“Seriously, Tony! I’m surprised I haven’t ripped your eyeballs out yet!” You say, embarrassed that you fell for one of his unintentional jump scares yet again.

“I would just assign Banner and JARVIS to help me invent some mechanical super-sight vibranium eyeballs for me, anyway.” Tony replied, almost too casually.

“Yeah, and maybe THEN you’d be able to see how annoyed I’m getting at all of the heart palpitations you’ve caused me thus far!”

“Well, you won’t be saying that after l’ve shown you the surprise of the century.” Tony happily stated while stretching his arm out, gesturing you to walk ahead into the elevator he led you to.

“After you.” Tony said politely.

You just gave him a nod, not wanting to spit out anymore retorts in your current annoyance. You decided it best to just keep quiet and civil since you had no idea what Tony had in store for you. Or where such inspiration had come from for him to even do something of this supposed greatness for you. But Tony said it was good, and you trusted his judgement.

“Okay but seriously, you might even be tempted to actually let a smile creep up on that scowl you’ve got going on there.” Tony said with a lot more confidence than you thought was necessary.

“I wouldn’t hold your breath there, tin man.”

Okay, you tried to hold in the insults, but it’s TONY you’re dealing with so you had to let one out.

“OUCH! Right in the Arc Reactor!” Tony dramatically exclaimed while he placed a hand over the power core in his chest. You loudly scoffed in replacement for the giggles you were trying to hold in. You could try to be angry at Tony all you wanted, but he had a tendency to say the most ridiculous of things.

The elevator came to a halt as the two of you reached your destination a few floors up.

“After you, Mrs. Ray of Sunshine and Rainbows.” Tony jokingly said at your hostile attitude.

You would’ve uttered a retort because of your supposed anger at Tony, but decided to stay silent in compliance with holding in your laughter. You couldn’t let Tony know you found his insults funny.

————

Tony had taken (Y/N) away with him in order for Steve to hide a spa reservation package in the extra Stark Tower dorm she’d been staying in. He flew into a hidden closet to change out of his Iron Man suit and into regular attire. He used this bought time to over-ride some of (Y/N)’s S.H.I.E.L.D. business duties after he ran his plan over with Fury, who was willing to co-operate in operation “scatter all of (Y/N)’s tasks around to the other agents so they can complete them instead of (Y/N) so (Y/N) can have a break from work and have time to herself”. Since everyone at the tower knew the extent of the Steve and (Y/N) breakup, they were all willing to pitch in their help. As soon as Tony reached Fury’s office, he paged Steve the clear so he could get out of (Y/N)’s dorm room without getting caught.

————-

“Okie dokie, agent… Smoky…?” Tony trailed off, visibly not confident in his rhyming skills.

“Smoky?” You asked. “That’s the best you could do?”

Tony gladly changed the subject, “I’ll show you the best I could do! Here’s your schedule for the week.” he said as he slapped the tablet that showed the calendar week in your hand.

You initially thought this was just Tony being a smart-ass and re-iterating his rank above you. You expected a full schedule with an overwhelming amount of Avengers tasks and assignments.

“There’s nothing on it…” You suspiciously observed.

Tony waited for your reaction and a sudden realization came over you.

“What did I do?! Am I fired!?” You asked, worried.

“No, of course not, agent Smoky! You’re taking the week off! Well, I’m MAKING you take the week off.” You just continued staring at the empty schedule, not saying a word. This caused Tony to explain further. “You said you couldn’t function with all of those petty human emotions while having to deal with all of this S.H.I.E.L.D. crap. Now you don’t have to! Well, this week you won’t.”

You couldn’t even speak. You just stood there not even beginning to successfully process this unexpected event.

“Is that… Okay?” Now Tony was the one who was worried.

You suddenly ran up to Tony in excitement and hugged him as tight as you could.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’!” He painfully grunted, audibly struggling to speak under your death grip.

“Tony you don’t even know how much of a genius you are!” You said all too gratefully.

“Trust me kiddo, I do. Every day.” He said whilst admiring his face in a hand-held mirror. You didn’t even know where he randomly GOT the mirror from. But you didn’t care because your relief at this great news was the only thing you could focus on.

After thanking Tony before he took off to deal with his own Iron Man business, you decided to call it a day. You made your way down to your new dorm to officially begin your week off. Settling in without a care in the world, knowing that you had no other business to take care of or attend to was the best feeling to ever exist in your life in a while. You had begun your break by hauling out some snacks to accompany your upcoming afternoon Netflix session. In which you had fallen asleep to after the first 3 hours. Upon checking the clock that read 4:27am, you realized that you had finally awaken to a well-rested state of being that you hadn’t experienced in what felt like ages. You thought it an odd time to be awake, but since you didn’t have anywhere urgent to be anytime soon, you figured you’d just lay there. Thinking…

To yourself.

The inevitable soon took place and every memory of Steve came flooding back in. And with them, the conflicts you both faced when it came to his attempts at trying to prevent your participation in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s dangerous missions. You felt your chest become heavy as the reality of your situation sunk in. Steve was gone from your life. At your own doing, nonetheless. He had been gone for over a week solid, and you suddenly became fully aware of your loneliness. The love you once thought would never leave your life was now absent. You were no longer able to feel his presence, to hold his hands, to kiss his lips, or to cuddle up to him whenever you so desired. All you could think about was Steve. Everything about him. But the anger and betrayal you felt from him going behind your back and getting Fury to over-ride your placement on the last mission was also pushing it’s way up to the surface. This was a pain you had never felt before. You were angry at Steve, yet you knew deep down that you still loved every fibre of his being. You figured that was the worst way to have it. Being hurt was the worst way to feel love. And being in love was the worst way to feel pain. This time, you didn’t have anything to occupy your mind and to distract you from the situation at hand. All you had was yourself and your thoughts. You did not complain once about the overload of work S.H.I.E.L.D. had assigned to you since the breakup because you were always busy. You always had something to do. The last thing you wanted was to be free of distractions from the pain you tried so hard to escape from. Now you weren’t so sure if you even wanted a break anymore. But you couldn’t hide forever. Now the real hardships began.

After what felt like the entire morning that had passed before your eyes, you checked the time to read 7:12 am. That was when you had cried your last tear for the time being. You were getting a little hungry and decided you should at least balance out the torture of heartbreak you let yourself feel by recharging with some fuel. You dragged yourself out of the living room area’s couch and began walking towards the kitchen behind it. That’s when you noticed an elegant gift basket on the granite countertop. A confused smile crept itself up on your face as you took hold of the card reading “(Y/N)”, which prompted you to open it up.

“Hey there, agent (Y/L/N)!

I hope this isn’t too much to ask of you after the long week you’ve experienced, but I would like to invite you to the prestigious Cornelia Spa at The Surrey this Friday morning! Among other amenities, I have booked a full day of opulent services to indulge in with yours truly. By the way, I won’t take ‘no’ for answer. However, I will take a ‘Tony Stark will make your life a living hell if you don’t get off your agent butt and attend this well-deserved treat from the both of us!’ I am expecting to hear from you soon. And I expect to hear a big, fat, YES.

P.S. Please just let yourself enjoy some girl time and treat yourself to this to-die-for facility. We’re all very worried about you and love you dearly!

Love, Pepper.”

She even ended it off with an elegant heart drawn beside her name. How sweet.

Even though there was nothing in you that wanted to leave your dorm room, you made a mental note of getting back to Pepper and accepting her invitation at a more acceptable time of day. You figured you needed some girl time just like she’d said, even though it was much to your own dismay.

——————

Four lonely days had passed and all of the post-breakup emotions and more had been a stinging rage of molten lava flowing through your body since. Now it was time for you to relax and undergo some soothing physical and mental therapy. You were dressed and ready to meet Pepper to take off to the luxurious facility by 8:00am sharp. Commuting to the destination, checking in, and getting set up for the services had taken almost an hour anyway.

“You’re going to do fine, (Y/N).” Pepper told you with a soft smile as the both of you were about the enter the building. This was her subtle attempt at comforting the nervous aura you’d been emitting all morning. You didn’t really want to reciprocate her eye contact and let her know she had successfully recognized your current mood that you’d tried so hard to hide.

After the first 15 minutes of the Cornelia Signature Massage, you’d already melted away into a puddle of relaxed bliss. You thought you could’ve stayed in this session for the rest of your week off but knew that Pepper wanted to treat you to almost everything else that the spa offered when the massage finished. This included The Purist: A Dual Detoxification Treatment, an Iridescent Pearl Manicure With Stem Cell Stimulator, and a Champagne Shimmer Pedicure With Stem Cell Stimulator. You were certain that Pepper enjoyed you accepting her and Tony’s eager help more than she enjoyed the spa herself. At the end of the day, it dawned on you that you’d never be able to pay them back in a way that was even 1/10th of that spa day’s greatness. Although, Pepper assured you that your acceptance of their offer was more than enough to even out the tally.

That was the best way you could’ve ended your week off and began your weekend. You thanked yourself for accepting Pepper’s invitation and getting some much needed rest and alone time on top of that. Of course you thanked Pepper and Tony a hundred times more for their unbeatable courtesy in selflessly treating you so prestigiously. You were back to your regular S.H.I.E.L.D. operations schedule that was nothing short of hectic on the following Monday. Within the first two days, you were already hungrily shoving your tasks and assignments into your hypothetical mouth of adrenaline. You realized that you actually missed the fast-paced hustle and bustle of the Stark Tower and the rest of the agents/Avengers. #BackToReality.

Come Wednesday morning, you’d woken up bright and early to gain a proper start to your day. You expected the usual meet up with other agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. to combine your efforts in tracking a lead that could potentially be a threat some of Stark’s resources. You’d been assigned to check out suspicious activity at the abandoned Essex/Delancey station by the Williamsburg Bridge. You were to be discreet and sneaky. You were to blend in with the rest of the civilians.

The identity of the six suspects that lingered around the abandoned underground station was still a mystery. However, their every move had been closely monitored for over three weeks. Illegal trading was taking place and some agents had entertained the suggestion of one of those men being a friend of Stark’s. You were assigned to get up close and personal, that is, without being detected, to the supposed Stark “ally”. You had never seen any of the men wearing anything other than a lot of black clothing to cover their identity. It came as a surprise to you that this guy in particular had a bright red leather jacket that stuck out like a sore thumb. He had his face and head covered in a large, black hood. At least it was easier for you to keep an eye on him.

At first, he was exchanging words, money, and hidden substances with the other suspects. That made it easy to confirm his status in this entire operation. Then he began maneuvering away from the crowd and you noticed he might be on his way out of the abandoned station. That’s when you spontaneously decided to direct your focus exclusively to the red-jacket guy. This was a slightly easy mission, considering there weren’t any other public passerbyes that you could blend in with. You managed to keep yourself unseen and unheard in the echoey underground.

Your main goal was to follow your current suspect, to see where he was going, and what his next move was.

Your target quickly headed up onto Delancey street while you kept a short distance behind him. You followed him out onto the sidewalk to find him putting on a black, tinted helmet and getting onto a motorcycle. As he was speeding away, you noticed 3 other motorbikes parked 10 meters behind his.

“Well…” You thought. “I do like a good chase.”

As you ran up to the parked bikes, you relayed in your head how Steve had taught you to hotwire one. Luckily you got it going in 3 tries.

This entire ordeal happened in a matter of twenty-seven seconds, and you were soon turning right on the corner down Essex street and you began following your suspect. You were right behind him all the way down to where Essex turned into Rutgers Street at the the corner of Essex and Canal Street. A thought randomly popped in your head of why he’s not urgently jetting out of your sight and grasp, but you dismissed it as him not wanting to cause a scene. Surprisingly, some of your past suspects and culprits have avoided drawing other attention to themselves when they knew you were on the hunt for them. It could only be because they’d rather have individual private agents on their tail as opposed to a huge swarm of feds and swats.

As the-guy-in-the-red-jacket was approaching Madison Street, he made a left turn onto it, without a signal, no less. He made another left onto St James Pl which came as a shock to you because you could’ve sworn he would’ve kept going down Madison to make it onto the Brooklyn Bridge and then make his escape into downtown Brooklyn. You thought you’d have to follow him for a long time to find out where he’s sourced. At this point, the two of you were approaching Robert F Wagner Sr Pl and he you were positive he would’ve made a left turn to go up the road and somehow get onto the Bridge to confuse you. Yet again, he made a right turn onto it and that had confused you even more. He was slowly approaching South St and turned his right blinkers that signalled his approach into a random parking space. Which, yet again, made it clear that this guy was full of surprises and you weren’t sure if you were following the right lead anymore.

Reluctantly, you followed him into the parking space. As you turned into it, you couldn’t see where his motorbike had gone but you had seen all the other parked vehicles. You stopped yourself dead in your tracks in utter confusion, not caring if you weren’t being discreet at all. Out of no where, his motorbike sped towards you and before you could react and get out of the way, he abruptly stopped about 6 feet in front of you. You couldn’t see through his helmet, but knew he was staring directly into your unshielded eyes. The first thing you analyzed was his body language in search of any threats. But he just stood there on his bike, unarmed. Finally he shut off the engine and propped it in park. You were about to draw your handgun that was hidden inside your coat, until he held up both of his hands in protest to show you he meant no harm.

You didn’t know where this was headed or what to expect. You had never had a lead literally lead you to a destination so peacefully. Maybe he wanted to talk business? Maybe he wanted to discuss a few bribes to get you to keep your mouth shut? You wouldn’t have known until he began to take off his helmet and his hood and you immediately noticed the shiny blonde hair that had remained perfectly styled.

You heart skipped a beat and your mouth dropped wide open.

You froze for a good 5 seconds or so.

“Steve…”

He just stood there, but neither of you were able to produce any words or advance in any actions.

“Tony helped set this up.” He finally said.

“Set what up…?” You still didn’t know how to react or behave in this situation.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I just—“ You noticed Steve was trying to hold back tears and you could feel the lump in your chest increasing. “I didn’t know any way to talk to you.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“Please just hear me out—“

“Oh, so now you’re finally allowing me to be included in a mission? Is this the only way? You as the fake ‘suspect’? Are we just playing a little childish game of ‘Cops and Robbers’? Is that all this is to you?!” You angrily spat out at him.

“Baby, that’s not the point. I’ve missed you soooo much and I’ll do anything for you to take me back. Just trust me on this!” He desperately pleaded. He started taking a few steps toward you and that’s when you drove your motorcycle— well it wasn’t your motorcycle per se, but… You hit the gas and moved it a few inches over to show him that you weren’t afraid to speed off and get away if he over-stepped his boundaries.

“I’m sorry (Y/N)! Please don’t leave.” Steve pleaded again. The hurt in his eyes and on his face tugged at your heart. “Can we at least talk about everything first?”

He desperately searched your face for any sign of forgiveness or compliance.

“…Here?” You asked him, not pleased at all with your surroundings or the circumstances.

“No. Not here.” Steve said. “I have a place I want to take you to. I thought bringing you here would be a nice little preview.” He gestured at the Brooklyn Bridge.

You nodded and began to get into position on the motorcycle you had… uh, borrowed.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that stealing is wrong?” Steve said with a sarcastic grin.

You scoffed a little.

“Well, that certainly isn’t your Harley Softail, now is it?” You chimed back at him.

He laughed.

“I’ve missed that quick-witted sassiness.” Steve said with a warm smile that you willingly returned. “This is a new one that Tony got for me… He knew you’d recognize mine.”

“That Tony thinks of everything.” You said silently to yourself.

“Where would we be without him?” Steve had said, knowing that that was both a true and sarcastic statement at the same time. “I think if I owe you anything, the least of it is a ride to the place I’m taking you.”

“Nah…” You said dramatically. “I think I’ll just call an Uber.”

The both of you laughed and you hopped onto the back of his new motorcycle. As you had wrapped your arms around him, you felt him place his hand on yours for a moment before he started his bike.

Steve had set you two on your way to the North Cove Marina.

—————————————————————————————————-

OMG I HATE TO DO THIS TO EVERYONE, BUT THERE WILL BE A THIRD PART THAT ACTUALLY HAS THE BEAUTIFUL SAPPY ISHHHH!!!

Another reason why it took me so long is that I had to research a few things… Which I realize isn’t a good enough excuse, because it doesn’t take two years to research spa stuff and boat stuff… but that definitely did take up some time whilst writing this.

Please don’t hate me and don’t worry, once this one settles down a bit on my blog (or if I get inspired anytime sooner than that) I’ll get to writing PART 3, that I definitely have the concept to in my head ;)

Anyway, thank you for reading this one and the first part. It means a lot to me, especially with the overwhelming and unexpected response I got from Part 1. It makes me sooooo happy that you guys enjoyed it so much and Part 2 was highly requested :)

ENJOY YOUR LIVES AND DON’T HATE ME (again)

PART 3 WITH FOR SURE BE POSTED. IF MY TUMBLR PAGE WAS STONE, I’D WRITE THAT ON IT AND IT WILL BE SET IN STONE. BUT IT’S STILL SET IN STONE SO YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO ACCEPT THIS MEDIOCRE PROMISE FROM ME PLSSSS

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ooxiebooxie · 6 years

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“ 'Twas a long time ago, longer now than it seems in a place perhaps you've seen in your dreams. For the story you're about to be told began with the holiday worlds of auld. Now you've probably wondered where [ nightmares ] come from. If you haven't I'd say it's time you begun. “

BASIC INFORMATION.

What is your character’s full name?

Tim Page

How is it pronounced?

TIM PAYJ

Is there a meaning behind it?

Tim is derived from the Greek Τιμοθεος ( Timotheos ) which translates into “ honouring God “. His parents chose the name for their son, naming him after his great grandfather who was known for his compassion heart. Page is also derived from a Greek word παιδιον ( paidion ) with the meaning “ little boy “. The name is an occupational name meaning " servant / page " — and thus we do not need to ask question why Oogie chose to change his name.

Does your character have any nicknames?

Oogie Boogie. Oogie. Mr Oogie Boogie Man. Meanest Guy.

When and where were they born?

Tim Page was born on the nineteenth of april in nineteen-seventytwo in the town of Carthay.

What’s their zodiac sign and what traits do they most relate to?

Aries rules the head and leads with the head, often literally walking head first, leaning forwards for speed and focus. Its representatives are naturally brave and rarely afraid of trial and risk. They possess youthful strength and energy, regardless of their age and quickly perform any given tasks. Aries is one of the most active zodiac signs. It is in their nature to take action, sometimes before they think about it well. Their challenges show when they get impatient, aggressive and vent anger pointing it to other people.

What’s their nationality?

American – but that depends entirely on which paper he chooses to show authority to identify himself. He has several. Sometimes you just need to be a different person, when your name and the stories strung to it travel faster than you.

What’s their occupation?

Being a winning gambler.

What gender do they identify themselves as?

Male.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

What’s their eye color?

Dark brown, appearing to be black.

Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Neither.

Hair color?

Black, although depending on the light it can appear to have a hint of dark brown in them.

Have they ever dyed their hair or wanted to?

In the young age of seven Tim has been obsessed with the colour green and wanted to dye his hair a bright neon colour ( maybe add some purple streaks for additional fun ) but fortunately, it was one of the things his parents did not allow their son to do.

Height?

179cm ( back at it again, being European and this time lazy )

Body build?

Surprisingly slim considering his messed up lifestyle.

Do they have any birthmarks?

No.

Do they have any piercings or tattoos?

It is no secret Oogie is as much a gambler at heart as a person could be, and thus it should not come as a surprise that his obsession has gone under his skin too. He has a tattoo ( that keeps getting added onto ) which proudly display his undying love for games, gambling and most importantly, winning. His tattoos tell a story and if you understand the language, you might just learn what ( or who? ) he has won too.

If not, do they want to get some?

Now let me tell you something about Oogie Boogie: He’ll never stop playing, and as long as there’s the chance to win he will take it, and thus more tattoos are to come.

Do they have a healthy life style?

No. His life is about as healthy as his shack is clean — his nights are too long, gambling always combined with alcohol and cigars, his days survived on coffee and cigarettes, his kitchen is used but only to stock the take-out containers in and literally lives among bugs — but honestly what do you expect? Oogie doesn’t have the time to have a healthy life. He is a busy man.

How easy do they get sick?

Let’s just say Oogie is lucky that he spends most of his time at the casino, because if he was to spend it in his shack between all the filth and his beloved bug collection he sure would get sick a lot more often.

Any marks on their body ( injuries, … )?

If you mess with the wrong people, you are bound to have some nasty scars. Oogie has several faint ones scattered across his knuckles though they are barely visible. The worst ones are those who needed stitches — if he takes off his jacket you can still see the messily stitched ( because there were times he just hadn’t been able to go to the hospital, knowing they would ask tooo man question ) scars on his arms especially, but his back and chest too.

What’s their personal style/how do they like to dress?

Comfortable but fitting clothing. His trusted black leather jacket is something he basically does not leave the house without, and the rest of his clothing is too rather dark in colour ( the only bit of colour he owns is in form of plaids ). Important to notice is that every piece of clothing is ridiculously expensive — that white t-shirt you see him wearing? Yeah, that was about 400 bucks. Now, you might wonder why Oogie of all people would waste so much money on ordinary looking clothing, but what can I say other than that he just really hates loose threads.

What is their favorite and least favorite feature about themselves?

His skills, and though this might not be a physical feature, it’s the one answer you will get from Oogie about his favourite thing about himself: He is proud to call himself a winner, one who does not need to rely on ‘ luck ‘ but can rely entirely on himself. His least favourite is a weakness and thus shall never be revealed — after all, a gambler never lets his pokerface slip.

PERSONALITY.

Positive traits?

Ambitious, Analytical, Attantive, Bold, Brilliant, Cautious, Confident, Determined, Devote, Efficient, Eloquent, Hard-Working, Intelligent, Inventive, Logical, Mature, Observant, Persistent, Proud, Punctual, Reliable, Strategic, Strong, Succesful, Tough

Negative traits?

Angr, Annoyed, Argumentative, Bad, Bossy, Cold-Hearted, Critical, Cruel, Cunning, Dangerous, Dark, Devious, Dishonest, Facetious, Greedy, Harssh, Hot-Tempered, Ignorant, Impatient, Lackadaisical, Lazy, Manipulative, Sadistic, Scheming, Self-Centered, Unforgiving, Violent

What do they consider to be the best and the worst part of their personality?

The best part is hands down his determination. For all the ‘ evil ‘ character traits Oogie’s determination is actually the most dangerous one, because the moment he sets his mind onto something, he doesn’t let go off it until it is his. He strongly believes there’s always a way — it has been proven to him nurmerous time by himself, and if that’s not trustworthy, what is? — to get what he want; you just have to set the stakes straight. His worst trait is the inconsideration, or rather, it has the worst impact on others ( which needless to say, makes Oogie fine with this trait too. Why would he care about others, right? ) but while he thinks everything through on a logical level, the lack of considering he does of the effect on others can get him into trouble.

Are they more extroverted or introverted?

Extroverted.

Any talents?

Winning, and if you say that it is no talent, ( Oogie would first of all like you to know you are wrong, but fine ) it’s knowing how not to take chances when gambling. He can read other people’s face, can figure out if they are bluffing, can make the maths in his head to know what his, his opponent’s and the cards still remaining in the deck say — and if he can’t, he always knows how to turn the game so he’s the one to win with a little cheat or two.

What are their fears?

Unravelling — not his clothes, of course, but the web of lies and cheats and crimes he’s built over the years of gambling with the worst of people. They are all secret, and though he is known to be a gambler across town and there are horror stories being shared at night in the darkest of alleys, they are all just that: stories. There’s no proof, his slate is still clean — unless, of course, the carefully crafted web starts to unravel and truth begins to spill.

Do they have any phobias?

No.

What is their soft spot?

Hidden behind a pokerface.

List 3 pet-peeves they can’t stand?

People believing in luck, talkativeness and optimism.

EDUCATION.

How far did they go in school? Are they still studying?

Tim successfully graduated from college with one hell of a good degree, always having given his best at any sort of school. He could’ve easily gone further and he’d already scored a solid and high-paying job, but unfortunately, he won a game in the casino then and everything changed.

Did they like school?

Tim was thrilled about school, glad to have the opportunity to learn new things ( admittedly, some of them were boring, but you have to do what you have to do, right? ) and even on the most annoying days, he had his group of long time friends to make any situation a billion times better.

What type of student are/were they?

In every school there are these type of students who somehow manage to get good grades no matter what, and Tim Page was one of them. One might call it luck ( even Tim did back then ), but the truth is that in his case anyway, Tim was just attentive. He listened in class, worked on the tasks which were given to him and though he did not sit down with a book and learn after school, he was focused enough inside of class to understand and remember what he’d been taught later during an exam.

What was their favorite subject?

Math. It was the one class which made the most sense to Tim, which made sense everywhere around the world too. For that reason alone it came easy to him, and thank god that it did, because card counting is a lot easier if you know what the fuck you’re doing.

And their least favorite?

English, because he always found writing interpretation was stupid, because how would anyone ever know what the author of some long-outdated literature piece tried to say when they were long dead? It’s not like lying on paper is hard. The only way Tim survived the endless hours he wasted on writing essays was by making his interpretations as ridiculous as one could get.

What were they/would they have been voted as “ most likely to… ” in the yearbook?

Most likely to suceed.

FAMILY.

Who are your character’s parents?

Belinda and Dunstan Page.

How would your character describe them?

Oogie Boogie would not waste a single breath on them, but they had always been kind and in the time Oogie was still their son, when he was still Tim Page they were the best parents he could’ve ever wished for, supportive and kind, loving him with all of their heart and without any conditions.

Do they have any siblings?

No.

Are they close with their family?

Tim has always been close to his family, his heart staying close at home wherever he went and if he ever left them for long he made sure give them a call and check up on them. However, time changes everything and when Tim changed into Oogie Boogie so did his relationship with his parents. He didn’t give a shit about them anymore, too distracted by the constant need to win, and when they moved away he barely noticed and did not hear of them again until he found the invitation to their funeral in his letter boy. Needless to say, he did not go.

ROMANCE & SEXUALITY.

What’s their romantic and sexual orientation?

Bisexual with a preference towards females, and he’s Oogie Boogie, he doesn’t have romantic emotions ( that we know of, anyway ).

Are they seeing anyone right now?

No.

Have they ever been in an relationship?

Yes, there have been several relationships in the course of his life, but none of them were particularly seriouss.

Have they ever been in love?

Yes. He was seventeen when he met her, and it took him not more than a few spoken words until he was head over heels in love with her. There just was something special about her, something that no one had ever had. After going on a couple of dates, their relationship began and their love has been growing ever since — until it ended, of course, like all of his connections did when Tim turned into Oogie.

How easy do they fall for someone?

It’s the toughest task in the world to get through to him and have him even notice you as a potential love interest, therefore not easy at all.

What do they look for in someone?

He doesn’t look for anyone. However, if he did he’d want someone who supports him, who joins his gambling and who he can rely on when they learn what exactly he has been gambling with.

Do they believe in love at first sight? or fate?

Definitely not. Neither exists. You’ve got to take matters into your own hands.

What’s their views on romance? Do they go after it or avoid it?

Oogie doesn’t care. In fact, he’s convinced romance in that sense doesn’t even exist.

Did they have their first time already? How was it in their point of view?

Yes, and truth be told, it’s been so long Oogie hardly remembers it, but it was with the girl he was in love with... so probably awkward and sweet? who cares?

What is their view on sex?

It's the best part of any relationship he ever had and the only reason why he pities not having a significant other, because it means he can’t just come home to someone and share the joy and enthusiasm that comes with winning with someone... in his bed.

What are their turn ons and turn offs?

Power is the biggest turn on. One might say winners like the companies of winners, and it could not be truer for Oogie. There’s just something about a person being able to meet you on a similiar level that makes them attractive. On the other side, he hates stuidity and he finds it comes in the most various of traits, making most people nothing but exhausting to him.

Were they ever cheated on or have they cheated on someone?

He has never been cheated on, but he has definitely cheated. He is Oogie Boogie. The real question is who he hasn’t cheated on.

Do they want to get married in the future?

Hell to the no.

Have kids?

The greatest joy in the world is to have children, and let me tell you a little secret about Oogie: He absolutely does not agree. He has three little minions and they are already enough to handle, plus he can actually hate them and mistreat them without having to feel upset about ruining his own flesh and blood. The real joy in life is winning.

QUIRKS.

Are they right or left handed?

Right Handed.

What’s a word that’s always on their lips?

The name Lock, Shock or Barrel angrily being yelled.

Is there a saying they keep on repeating?

Not a phrase, but he does hum his ‘ Oogie Boogie Song ‘ all the time — that being said, make sure he never sings the lyrics around you for it’s never a good omen if he gets to the line ‘ this may be the last time you hear the oogie boogie song ‘.

Do they curse?

He definitely does. There are times which just need a little bit ( or a lot ) of cursing.

What’s their worst habit?

Spending his money. No matter how often you see him walk out of the casino with a thousand of dollars in his bags, you’ll never see him keep it for longer than a day. Either he pays his debts to the Fates, he spends it on his beloved bugs or he walks right back into the casino to wager it all again.

Do they drink or smoke? How frequently?

He drinks and he smokes cigarettes and cigars at least every week, if not every day.

Are they an early bird or a night owl?

Night owl, because the unfortunate thing about casinos is that they are rarely opened in the normal day to day hours. Oogie wastes his night completely in there, spends his early mornings in a coffee shop of his choice and sleeps the rest of the day away until he can finally go gambling again.

How tidy is their room?

His entire shack is a complete mess and though Oogie recnogises it as one, he does not give a care in the world about it. His belongings are piling all over the floor, his kitchen is filled with the containers of the many take-outs he’s ordered in and is that... a bone? Honestly, at this point you can find almost anything in there.

How long do they usually take getting ready in the morning?

Fifteen minutes tops. His mornings usually include him going into the shower, brushing his teeth and leaving the house a moment later. That being said, his mornings are rarely happening in the morning and more so in the late evenings.

FAVORITES.

What’s their favorite color?

Now, you might think his favourite colour is black because everything he owns and loves seems to be black, but while everything about Tim Page changed when he became Oogie Boogie one thing didn’t: His favourite colour is green, always has and always will be.

Favorite movie?

' Fight Club ‘ because it’s kind of a fucked up movie, isn’t it? and at the same time it is really interesting, allowing a look into the minds of others and how a group ( a colony, one might say ) can work together and create something purely brutal. Oogie always thought in a way they are gambling too.

Music Genre?

Rock’n’Roll.

Food?

Anything that comes per delivery.

Book?

' It ‘ by Stephen King.

Favorite non-alcoholic drink?

Ground black Coffee.

Ice Cream Flavor?

Dark Chocolate.

Indoors or outdoors?

Indoors.

#carthaytask #carthaytask001 #{ i’m a gambling boogie man although i don’t play fair; about }#( it almost lines up perfectly with the blog theme i cry )

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nomanicsdak · 4 years

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New Post has been published on https://manicdak.com/the-face-of-boeetia/

THE FACE OF BOE(etia)

Riddle Me This

I have to talk to a man called Gorgias (who may be this Gorgias?) here in Boeotia. I’m just going to assume this is pronounced like gorgeous before I can hear anybody pronounce it! (Update: it’s not, but I’m still going with it.)

Hello, Gorgias!

After defeating a huntress camp, we find Gorgias in a weirdly modern looking ruin. In it is also the Sphynx. Apparently this quest has something to do with Pythagoras, so maybe it has to do with finding the relics I’m supposed to be finding. Who knew this was a main quest? I probably could have figured that out by looking at my menu, but who wants to do that?

Anyhows, I have an amulet that I am supposed to be finding the matching half of? Seriously, did I just doze off when I met Pythagoras? Because I remember none of this! Haha, anyway, Gorgias is worried about his Pibos, which is not a colourful euphemism, but the name of his missing apprentice. Pibos has the other half of the amulet, I guess. How ‘BFFs’ of them.

I find his body not far away. A creature killed him! Also, it ate the amulet. Why would it eat the amulet and not the guy? Maybe all that heavy metal gave it indigestion. I recover the goods from a lion’s belly in any case and head on back to give Gorgias the bad news. He’s going to be so sad. However, this amulet is the key to awakening the Sphyinx, so— I won’t feel so bad if the Sphyinx comes to life! It probably won’t though; I’m guessing it will trigger some kind of treasure door or doom puzzle or something.

Is this the Real Life?

Okay, well—the statue of the Sphinx and Gorgias disappeared before I could even get there to test my theory. I try to insert the amulet anyway, but the game tells me to come back at night. Why are you giving away all your secrets, game? It would have taken me a thousand years to figure that out on my own! Anyway, I meditate for a while, come back at night and—

HOLY SHIT, the Sphynx did come to life! I am delighted and terrified. Is it reality, or is Alexios having some sort of fever dream? Let’s see what she has to say!

She has a challenge for me of some kind and is totally not here for my awe. Which, to be honest, Alexios probably shouldn’t be that awed. We already found like, three Cyclopses, one should be dead triangle dad, and Athena 4 Real. Literal Sphynx is just another day in life really.

Is This Just Fantasy?

Oh no. She has riddles.

Well, they are all pretty easy, and when I solve them and touch some symbols on the wall she disintegrates and I capture a giant golden feather inside some kind of ancient Greek Pokeball. For my efforts, I get a Sphynx figurehead for my boat!

Sorry, snakes. She is way cooler!

Sibling? Rivalry!

Okay, Sphynx quest done and done, now time to see what I’m supposed to be doing to help out Sparta per King’s request. This cannot possibly be as fun or ridiculous as the Olympics, alas. I am only proven correct when I arrive and the general in charge is my step-bro??? or actual bro? TBH, I am confused about who exactly this dude is to Alexios, but I do know he thinks I killed dear old dad. Naturally, he punches me in the face on sight. Cool.

OMG!

Well, we have some words, but he gives me a mission anyway and what I have to do is kill Boetian champions, so off we go!

The map tells me to head to Thebes for the one called Drakon, but I can’t find where there at is, so I go to the nearest big city which is actually Thebes! Good guess, self. Here I will be doing a bunch of quests and clearing out all the locations!

In the first spot I come away with a mace called Boetian Rhapsody. Worthy of note because, Heh. Whilst I’m in this pause screen checking out my gear, I also find a most terrifying mask. Where the hell did I get this thing???! Also, since I often talk about the cult family tree, here’s a screen shot of it. I’m just checking these guys off as I roam around. I should probably make a point of it after I finish this quest though, because I need to upgrade my spear so I can upgrade everything else with my unused points.

Cult Family Tree. Also, why does that dude on the top right branch look like the ghost from He Man?

NIPS

Next, I head towards the gym, because this is what the game is telling me I should do. Here I find Melanippos, who is worried about his one true love—Drakon. The dude I’ve been hired to assassin. On the scale of things I want to do, proving myself to my a-hole brother rates very much below reuniting these lovebirds. Let’s see if I get a choice in the matter.

Ok, so Nips over here wants to create a love potion and smear it all over the inside of Drakon’s armor so it gradually seeps into his skin, guaranteeing eternal love. Eternal poisoning is more like it. On the one hand he is wearing a Rod of Asclepius necklace, so maybe he won’t be accidentally coating the armor with hemlock or something. On the other hand, this is just a terrible idea. You can’t make people love you, bro.

The Unintentional Saboteur

Of course, I agree to find the herbalist who has the ingredients for him. Alexios asks about how vulnerable Drakon’s going to be while he doesn’t have his armor, and the answer is, very.

I see you, game, sussing out the tips on defeating Drakon. Here Nips is, giving away vital information directly to an assassin.

We’ll see how it shakes out.

Here are some more clues:

The herbs are red hot so Drakon’s affections will sizzle. Rowwwr!

How did he and Nips meet? Well, Nips wanted to become the best, so he wanted to train with the best. “But the only muscle he worked on was his heart.”

Please don’t make me kill this dude.

The last bit of info that I get is that Drakon might be at the training ground.

Okay, off to find this herbalist!

I am not surprised to find her farm surrounded by bandits. I get rid of them and talk to the herbalist. Apparently, Nips has been after this for a while. This is kind worrying. Also worrying is the singing he engages in when I get back. I get the feeling that maybe Drakon is not as into Nips as he is into Drakon. Like, did I just enable a stalker? In any case, Alexios double makes sure that Drakon will be without his armor for a time, but none of this helps in finding him.

Oh well. On to the next quest.

HORSING AROUND & HIPPOKRATES

I’m going to help this merchant get his goods, and his horse back from some soldiers. This too leads back to Drakon, who will be mad if he can’t get his oil for his back. Also another clue: Drakon prefers the flammable oil.

Dudes, you are making his defeat too easy. Loose lips sink ships after all.

Hippokrates’ Meds Bring All the Boys to the Yard

I get the horse back for the merchant and get another clue about the location of the training grounds. There is still one more quest that will presumably aid in my task. I have to go save and rescue a hunting party from a terrible beast for Hippokrates, who is here for some reason. I thought I left him to deal with the Plague back in Athens?

Anyway, I find two bears fighting over this poor hunter with the rest of the party dead. I stun the bears until the brown bear goes down. The white bear on the other hand just runs away. Do I get to complete the quest if the mega bear is still on the loose? I guess we’ll find out.

The answer is yes. I avoid mega bear whilst carrying the injured man back to bald ole ‘Krates. Incidentally, Alexios really hates these Thebans who sided with Xerxes. He keeps muttering at them for being cowards under his breath as part of the ambient dialog. I guess you can’t totally take the Spartan out of the mysthios.

TO KILL OR NOT TO KILL…

It turns out Hippokrates is having a crisis of faith. The injured guy will survive if treated, but Hippokrates might not want to do that. You see, this fella is a slave trader who hurts and tortures people for a living, you see. Bro. Why did you send me out to save the dude? I could have just let the bears eat him!

Now I have to make choices instead!

I mean—Do no harm, right? I don’t want to be responsible for the Hippocratic Oath not being invented. Of course, this would be a really weird choice for a professional assassin to make. I’m out here stabbin’ all the time. I mean, Hippokrates could always just hire me to ease is conscience.

LOL, on second thought, actually I don’t have a choice.

Save him for the $$$, or save him because it’s the right thing to do are the actual choices now that I’m done ruminating on the pros and cons and actually re-read the text.

Save him for the right reasons, Hippokrates. Alexios offers to free the slaves at least and Hippokrates just runs with it. He wants to rehab the slave trader and show him the error of his ways. Well, good luck with that, pal. I have some people to free!

Swimming with the Puppies

So, they are located east of the river in the Malanippos’s camp. Nips has a camp??? Did he escape from there? I’m so confused. Let’s go there and see if we can’t figure things out. The good news is that I free the slaves and also find out Drakon is nearby so I don’t have to expend brain energy misreading the map. Also, one of the attack dogs fell into the water. So now there is an aquatic dog down there glitching, which is hilarious. Luckly, it doesn’t try to fight me underwater.

Anyway, I free the slaves and talk to their leader. I don’t remember anything she said now, but I return to Hippokrates and he is still really bummed out that the bad guy is going to live. This quest did not, however, give me any more clues on how to beat Drakon.

I guess that means it’s time to defeat him now! Let’s get to it!

I see how it’s going to go though when I reach my destination. There’s no talking to him. I approach; he attacks. At least that’s going to ease my conscious about this task. Hopefully I will never have to see poor Nips again though.

With that finished, I am lost.

I have three other champions to defeat and the only clue the quest gives me is that I must defeat them.

Where are they? Are they all in Thebes? Would that be too easy?

TO KILL OR NOT TO KILL…part 2

Well, Hippokrates has another quest for me, so maybe if I help him out it might give me some clues.

It does not.

I arrive at some house and Hippokrates is fretting because the old man there wants his help to die. He’s old and in pain and wants his son to take over business before their rivals can take advantage of his frailty. Hippokrates, on the other hand, wants to study his disease in hopes of learning some more medicine that can help others.

I agree to help him take out the rivals and lo! I have already beaten them apparently. I love a quest that is finished before I even start it! The guy still wants Hippokrates help though, so I agree to speak on his behalf. I try to convince him to do the man this favor, but Hippokrates does not want to hear about morality form an assassin. Fair enough, my man. Fair enough.

Hippokrates and His Potential Lab Rat

Well, I guess that’s that for now. I will fetch the Hemlock that has been requested of me and see where it goes from there. Also, it’s worth noting, I suppose, that in game, Alexios knows that this is poison. Hippokrates thinks it will work great to ease the man’s pain in the correct dosage though.

It’s taking a really long time for the cut scene to load which is a bit worrying. When it does, Hippokrates is giving me the power to decide how much Hemlock to add. This was a bad idea, dude. Why are you tasking me with this, you’re the doctor??? I guess he’s just going to have to be mad at me then.

Later, I choose not to lie to my friend and tell him that I did what he couldn’t do, and that it isn’t right to keep the poor guy alive and suffering just so he can be a lab rat… And Hippokrates agrees with me, but he still wanted to do it anyway. Instead, he just tells me of his plans to travel the world now and learn from other doctors around the lands. Will we ever meet again? Perhaps, I mean, I will be playing this game until my golden years, so who knows?

I have to leave this man’s house now though, because his family keeps coming in and gasping at my weaponry.

WHO’S THE CHAMPION NOW?

I manage to figure out that I had to select the specific champion I want to defeat in order to get instructions on how to find them, so I select the next one on the list. She is much harder than the first guy, because nobody is around to drop hints about how much she likes flammable oil and will be particularly vulnerable because some rando is rubbing love potion inside of her armor. Also, she has two companions raining down arrows on me.

I managed to defeat her once I get her alone, and come to find out she is a cultist! Two birds, one stone. Nice!

On to the next!

Bears, Atop Tents, in the Moonlight

I go to find him and instead of getting to do the deed myself, I find that dear old Wolf dad has done it for me. I thought I told him to gtfo??? (PS. What happens if Alexios dumps dad off the cliff in the beginning? Does he survive anyway? Would I have to beat the third champion myself?? Would I have to fight my un-brother?) Oh, well, I tell him to go to my bro and give him leadership advice. Maybe this will get the dude off my back and he can stop punching me?

I guess I still have to finish the champion quest though, so let’s find the last one!

She is a hunter and has a bear. I stun the bear and then deal with her. I also find a tomb on my way back to my bro, so I complete that location too.

Back at Bro’s camp…his name is Stentor, so I can stop calling him that.

Stentor is predictably unhappy to see me. I mean, what did he expect? Alexios to die, obviously, but my job is the direct opposite of that. And I’m good at it, so sorry, not sorry, Stent.

In any case, now I have to compete in one of those melee battles, which I am also very good at. I shall return triumphant…eventually. First I head to the armorer, because at least I’ve learned that lesson. I only have enough leather to upgrade my tunic though. Once I’m geared up, The battle still proves to be too much for me, so I decide to blow up some more grain silos and take out the leader of Thebes in hopes of weakening Athens a bit. Turns out this does not help. I do eventually win the day, and when I get back to Stentor, the dude is less than grateful.

Stentor Hasn’t the Time

In fact, he still wants to kill me, and I still don’t know if I’m related to him. We bicker like siblings anyway. Luckily, before we can cross swords and after I try to talk Stentor out of it, dear old dad decides to make an appearance. Took you long enough, dude.

Stentor still hates me, but at least I don’t have to kill him just yet. With that, Boetia is on Sparta’s side and I have to find a new quest. Dad warns me that there’s a ‘shadow over Sparta’, and I don’t want to deal with that until I have to. Let’s go hunting instead. I need to upgrade my snake bottoms.

HOUSEKEEPING

We’re heading back to the arena for some cultists! I want to upgrade my spear already! Luckily, the cultist I have to defeat is only level 29 and I’m about 15 levels above that now, so nice. Skoura is there also, for sage wisdom about the arena and also to make me suspicious.

He has a daughter and she’s the reason he’s now just the gate guard. They lost touch…or she’s dead? I dunno, either way he looks very sad. We will perhaps get his entire story when I finish this quest, but alas, I am not equipped to fight the rest of the arena participants, so I’m off to find the final cultist I need to do the next spear upgrade! He’s off the coast of Andros, so it looks like we’re in for another naval battle.

Unluckily for me, there’s about four other pirate ships around this cultist’s boat. I try to just go for the cultist right off the bat, but his whole fleet just converges on me and sinks my ship about three times before I decide that this is definitely the wrong strategy.

Instead, I pick off the smaller boats one by one and that does the trick.

It is still not enough to upgrade my spear. I am frustrated looking for this information on my pause screen, so I just look it up online. I need nine shards to upgrade and I only have seven. I need two more guys, so I pick out the weakest ones, who are only one level below me at this point.

One is on a boat that I can’t find, and the other I have to face during a melee battle while fighting for Athens. I head towards this area, which hasn’t been uncovered on the map yet. Hopefully there will be some juicy quests over here, and maybe one of those statues I’m supposed to be looking for for my sculptor friend. You remember? The paranoid one I hooked back up with in Olympia, who thinks the cult is leaving him clues?

HOW BOARING

After a few tries at this, I give up. Maybe if I weaken Sparta’s hold on the area that will help a bit, but I can’t find the leader. Instead of noodling around the area, I decided it would be a great time to take out that demon boar from earlier, since it’s just across the water from where I am.

This turns out to be a bad strategy also. How is the first legendary animal the most difficult??? I head back into town after dying a few times. I am absolutely determined to upgrade my bow at least. I do that, and also replace an inscription on one of my weapons to make me even more venomous. I promise, I did not set out in this game to transform into a snake.

I also go to the store to spend my special currency. I buy the phantom steed masthead because it looks pretty cool.

With my poison bow in hand, I head back to the boar and finally defeat him! Like…this quest is one of those that’s slotted in one of the first areas of the game that you’re clearly supposed to leave open until later in the game after you’ve leveled up, right?? Or am I just that good at this game? Because I return to Daphnae and she gives me a legendary bow and some sweet ghostly arrows that do more damage. Imagine if I had those at the start of the game?

I also get the option of heart dialogs with her, but I’m so annoyed that she gave me this quest, that I ignore them. I wasn’t going to when this whole thing started, but, well…being tossed around by a demon pig ad infinitum definitely is a mood killer.

Also, She’s Kinda Rude–

It is time to head back to the melee for the cultist, but when I arrive, it is no longer available! I guess I will have to find the leader after all and burn stuff down after all!

So, I spend the majority of the next bit just wandering around trying to find the damn leader so I can trigger the battle again. I also upgrade my gear as much as possible. This time it takes me three tries to take out the cultist dude that appears on the battlefield. I don’t win the battle, but the guy doesn’t respawn after I lose it, so I will leave it and move on.

I find the final cultist that I’ve identified on the map (There are more, I just haven’t unmasked them yet.) He’s a boat guy, so I even get to equip my new ghostly steed masthead! I am able to take him down pretty easily, but I don’t get to fight him or get the boat treasure because I sink it with my battering power.

I am all hyped up on success and my newly upgraded spear! I head on over the hill to that Cyclops lair! I have to say my confidence is completely unfounded, so Cyclops hunting is right back off the list of quests I want to tackle.

There’s not a lot to do unless I go back to Brasidas and my mom to continue on with my main quest, so I just run around doing question marks. Me and Barny wax poetic about our home ports on the boat at one point, but he doesn’t want to tell me his own origin story.

ERRING ON THE SIDE OF GODS

Now we are on the isle of Kythera. Home of some ominous sounding purple thing. (It is dye… the ominous purple thing is dye.) There are a bunch of undiscovered locations and some new sidequest! yay! (I’m sure I will come to regret that ‘yay’ soon)

I go to complete a fort and accidentally stumble upon my first quest: There is a guy named Empedokles yammering about how the guards stole his robe and that he is a God. I let him out so he will shut up, and this gives me a quest.

At Least He’s a Respectful God

I meet up with him later and he is stubbornly sticking to his story of Godliness. I tell him I believe him, just because I don’t want to risk it. I already met a ghost Sphynx. I am not taking any chances even though this dude seems bonkers. I agree to go meet his Godly siblings for a dinner date after I retrieve the key to his God house from the guards.

I think my instincts are good this time, because I go to select this quest in my menu and it’s a main quest. How??? Why??? I am curious now, let’s go meet this guy right away.

I go to the forgotten island to meet him and immediately fall into a sinkhole. Cool beans. This is going great already! I meet E where he’s ranting and raving at a crumbling door about hearing the gods inside. They sound more like a trapped bear that is going to eat me. Should I further indulge this guy’s ranting?

I choose to indulge him. Alexios isn’t going to go as far as to actually believe him, but we know there’s some damn thing inside. Let’s see what it is!

Awww, shit. It’s a cyclops. A cyclops which just straight up squishes E. Damn. I should have told him to wait outside. Well, now I’m stuck inside with this thing, so I have to fight it. The good news is that it’s much easier than the one on spear island. I do exhaust almost every one of my arrows. I do get a cool cyclops eye for my troubles though.

EWWWW

I now wander around filling out more question marks. I find a legendary bear, which was way easier to defeat than I expected. Also, looking at the quest and there’s another boar? WHY? I head back to Aphrodite’s island for more quests and I what should I happen upon but a random Spartan soldier who thinks I killed Stentor.

Well. That’s a hell of a way to find out your brother is dead. What in the actual F, game? I know he was a douche, but— In any case, I am tasked to kill the actual mercenary who did the deed and it turns out that I already did that. Huh. You see, I’ve been trying to get my bounty up for that trophy, but I can’t seem to get it over 3 assassins no matter how many other mercenaries I take out. At one point I had all three of them and a chicken chasing after me.

Next Time: my chicken fears are coming back to haunt me!????

#assassin's creed #Assassin's Creed #Games #Odyssey

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