#aka layer that desert boy UP!!!!!!!

[new-anon]

first (and second) trip to ilum

#aka layer that desert boy UP!!!!!!! #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #old art from last month #star wars prequels #like?? a few months after #the phantom menace #idk

[undeadorion-archive]

The Queen of the Damned is a lesson in how NOT to write a book. Holy shit. I now know why the first book anyone really talks about.

Book 1 of the Vampire Chronicles (Interview with the Vampire) was well executed. It has several solid conflicts that carry through, decent themes, a somewhat morally gray but relatable main character, and a bit of the shock at the end. 9/10, would read again.

Book 2 (The Vampire Lestat) is...not even half as good. You can chalk it up to it being written from the perspective of an unreliable narrator. There no real core conflict other than Lestat's flakey sense of morality that only comes up sometimes. Problems get resolved within pages of arriving. Even escaping from other vampires that wanted to kill Lestat (which he'd intentionally made himself a target for) was resolved as they were all killed by some "mysterious" force. 4/10, not worth revisting.

Then there's book 3. Oh boy.

The first half was decent if a bit tedious at times. It was more a collection of short stories of other characters experiencing the impact of Lestat's concert, often with telling their whole backstory first. Sometimes it was to introduce a character who would be involved later or was previously known. Like telling the fate of the guy who interviewed Louis. Then with how much detail was given to Jesse's story of how she came to be involved with this you'd think she would have had a bigger role in the final moments. But no.

On top of all the "wow Lestat's so cool" stuff, there was an added layer of all the vampires (except Lestat) experiencing weird dreams. Loosely telling the tale of two red haired twins from about 4000BC in the middle east who ate the bodies of their dead. Then were tortured and wandered through the desert and no connection to vampires was ever shown in the dreams.

The second half was mostly the telling of the story in detail of how Akasha came to be the first vampire. And explaining who the twins were. Sprinkled in were scenes between Lestat and Akasha as they slaughtered impoverished cities.

This story spanned two separate nights, and was framed as "We must all know the details of what happened so we can find a way to defeat Akasha without killing ourselves" because since she was the first vampire, anything done to her would be felt by all.

All through out the story we were reminded of how the twins were going to eat the brain and heart of their dead mother but were denied. And were reminded that the twin who was lost was coming, through "visions" they all had of what she was seeing.

Mind you, while they were all sitting around listening to this story, Akasha was heading for them and they believed she would kill them. And she could kill with a thought, burning them alive.

Well, it turns out, vampires exist because some sort of invisible entity that they called a "spirit" had fused with Akasha's body and soul. Specifically its core was in her heart. And passing this spirit's essence (aka the blood) to others is what made vampires.

After spending hundreds of pages telling this story, nearly half the book, Akasha finally shows up. And all they do is talk. She sits at the table and argues politics with them all, and throws a childish fit because they won't see things her way. And they just beg her to give them time to show her how good humanity really is. Rather, three of them try to reason with her. Most everyone who was supposedly there barely said a word and I kept forgetting how many people were supposed to be there.

Then at the last second, a mud-slathered mad woman charges in, kills Akasha, and eats (or absorbs?!) her brain and heart. And it's over. In like 3 pages.

The problem is this part was told from Lestat's perspective, and he was fading in and out of consciousness as Akasha died, so he only saw bits and pieces. Like Akasha was thrown into the window, and the next sentence her head was rolling across the floor. No mention of how it was removed.

This wouldn't have been SO bad, except for the fact that he kept mentioning these weird flashes of visions he'd had, or dreams. Something about two red haired twins eating a heart and a brain that he didn't understand. As if the whole tale had only been from his perspective. Only we'd been told the story in excruciating detail. Okay, sure. But Lestat hadn't been there for it, right? Well, the whole book is meant to be written by Lestat based on things he pulled from the minds of other people, so he could include events he wasn't present for. And still it was written as if he would never know the meaning of those visions.

But the worst writing crime committed was he had to say it out loud. Essentially "The heart and the brain! That's what it means! Eat her heart and brain!" And he even says "But everyone already knew that's what it meant." And we only see the act of removing and then somehow consuming the two organs in the briefest of glimpses. It's the worst version of telling and not showing that I've ever experienced in a professionally published work.

But it gets worse.

With how much detail was given to Jesse's story, and how much was put into ensuring she was there for this all, she wasn't important to it one bit. In the aftermath, Lestat even said that Jesse was the only one who remained conscious enough to witness the full events of killing Akasha. And not a single fucking detail was filled in from this perspective. Either switch perspectives or include something like "What I learned later from Jesse's mind was..." and then explain what happened.

It was like there was a handful of chapters that Anne Rice wanted to tack on to the end of the last book, but it would have been too long. So she decided to stretch them into a whole novel. It's almost all filler. And what story is there isn't even well done. It had potential, but that was tossed out the window in favor of tidbits like Lestat looking at his dick in the mirror in between genocide sessions.

If you're going to have something epic happen in your story, like two ancient women going head-to-head and the one who uses mind powers is bested by the raw physical power of the other, actually fucking SHOW it. Explain what's happening. Don't just cut to "her head lay on the floor, the back of her skull shattered, as Mekare was handed the brain" or whatever the line was. The last book went into detail in a scene about Akasha briefly waking and busting out of the ground to crush a man to nothing more than a quivering pulp just by walking all over him. But for something 100x more epic we get "and then she was dead."

-4000/10, I'd burn it if it weren't a digital copy.

And then there's what HZZ told me about what comes later. Involving aliens and fucking Atlantis. But especially the origin of that spirit that went into Akasha.

#i read so much crap YA #the bar of my expectations is on the fucking ground #and still this managed to slide under it #wtf

[sparklecryptid]

I keep having the mental image of *some* Canonical Character - possibly Regis et al? - dropping in on the Nine Day's Watch. AKA the Clan Lazarus Gathering, the semi-regular occasion when the Clan gathers together to pool their joint vision and /See/.

When they travel to Galahd they don't know what to expect. The isles keep to themselves for the most part, even if they are conditionally a part of Lucis unlike those provinces on the Mainland the Galadians have kept their culture and secrets close; and while there had been approval from all Clans for the Prince's visit no one thought that the boat taking them to the isles would get caught in the storm.

No one would have thought that they have to dock near a small coastal town that seems deserted at first glance. Rotting food is still on tables, glasses full with unfinished drinks. There is no sign of a fight or cataclysm here. It is simply as though everyone had gotten up and left.

The north wind brings with it a chilling breeze and Regis' eyes dart toward the densely packed jungle.

"We need to find them," Regis says, a worried note clinging to his voice as he gazes at something in the distance, "They could be hurt."

"I don't think braving the wilds at night is a good idea," Weskham says and Cor mutters something in agreement, "We'll camp here and set out at dawn to see what we can find."

Regis looks as though he wants to argue but four unimpressed gazes stare him down.

"No heroics," Cid tells him, "Not this time."

"I'm not heroic," Regis sniffs, "That's Clarus' job."

-

They set out at first light. The chill of dawn keeping them awake and alert as they follow the trail the villagers made for them.

"Where were they going?" Cor asks, "There's nothing out here and it's damned cold."

Cor is right. It has been getting colder the closer they draw toward the presence that Regis had felt last night but he doesn't know why and that bothers him. Regis is used to knowing things. To being privy to information others aren't allowed to know and to feel that something big is being kept to him is.

Irritating to say the least.

"I don't know," Regis says at last, "But we'll find out."

-

They come across a boy. His brown hair a mess and blue eyes seeming to stare right through them. The boy doesn't acknowledge Cor attempting to talk to him. He pays no attention to the way the group stiffens as he makes his way toward Regis.

"Little King," the boys voice is dreamy as though he's just been roused from sleep, "Why are you here? You should be with Clan Ulric."

"We're looking for the villagers the went missing," Regis answers, the air around both him and the both thick with cold magic, "Do you know what happened to them?"

"They watch. They wait. They See." The boy speaks and the chill in the air becomes a freezing bite that makes the group shiver. They are all reluctant to cut down a child but if they must-

If they must they will.

"I am not a threat," the boy asserts, "I am simply a Wanderer."

"Where do you wander?" Wesk asks.

"The paths to the future are many and dangerous." The boy looks Regis in the eyes and Regis feels as if he is being judged by his father. "What one will be your fate I wonder?"

Cid scoffs.

"Are ya telling me you can see the future? That's bullshit."

"It is," The boy agrees, "But come, I will show you I tell the truth."

The boy turns and walks.

The group shares a look and follows.

-

When they come to a halt they find what they assume to be the villagers. Some are coated in thin layers of frost and snow. Some shiver uncontrollably under many layers. Others are simply still and dreaming as they stare into nothing.

"What is this?" Clarus demands.

"For nine days we watch, for nine days we wander," The child says, "This is where we come to wander and watch. To see and listen. Look to the rift for the truth of my words."

"What rift-" The words die in Regis throat as he stares into the middle of the clearing and watches as his city falls. He watches war and death and darkness and it feels as though he's drowning-

A cold touch jerks him awake.

"Sorry," the boy apologizes and looks slightly annoyed at the sword Cor is holding at his neck. "I didn't think you would react that way."

"Caelum magic," one of the others in the clearing sings, her voice bright like a bird, "Caelum magic, Martyr Kings, doomed for the world, doomed by thee."

"It's alright," Regis rasps but knows he's lying, "What did you say your name was?"

"Oh," the boy blinks, "It's Luche."

#what good do prophets bring verse #and here we have a baby luche #this was quick and dirty because i had to let my dog out but i like it #regis goes home and does the best he can to stop what they all saw but #doesnt work #or he thinks that it doesnt #(it does) #(largely because Luche became Fond and made sure to steer the future to the left a little bit) #(No Glauca for you)

[kucheek]

Surviving 24 Hours On A Deserted Island

aka without his girlfriend

requested: yes

request: :0 pls write something about the vid Surviving 24 hours on a deserted island Some jimmy x reader fluffy moments

pairing: mr beast aka jimmy x reader

// I realize I haven’t updated, but here I am! Alive and somewhat well. I still really enjoy writing for this blog, so I’m going to do my best to update whenever I can. I have really cute requests in my inbox that I want to get around to writing and I hope that you guys enjoy them as I put them out! //

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When Jimmy and friends said they were planning to spend 24 hours on a deserted island, you were sure they were kidding. But after some time, you realized they were completely serious. 

“what’s the point in buying all this stuff?” You muttered, watching the boys argue over which soda to bring. 

“not die of thirst?” Jimmy suggested, catching your comment. 

Repressing the roll of your eyes, you replied, “that’s why you bring water, not Mountain Dew.”

“why are you so crabby today?” Jimmy asked instead, his voice raising slightly and an amused smile falling on his face. Nothing ever really got to him, so your attitude probably didn’t phase him in the least. If anything, it was probably slightly entertaining. 

“i don’t know,” you admitted. 

“you gonna miss~ me?” he sang, the teasing note heavily evident in his voice. 

You snorted, an unwitting smile crossing on your face. “you wish. You’ve done these 24 hour challenges before.”

“you can come if you want,” he suggested.

“hm,” you hummed contemplatively, your normal attitude inching back. “you sure you’re not gonna miss me?” 

“Y/N!” Chandler interrupted, holding up a large Easy-Bake Oven box. “can we get one of these?”

“Chandler,” you began, already going to shoot him down; why in the hell would they need an Easy-Bake Oven?

“sure we can!” Jimmy quickly tacked on, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. 

You blew out an exasperated breath and tried craning your neck to look up at him. “why do you need a freaking oven?"

“I dunno,” Jimmy answered, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“There aren’t even any outlets-” 

Jimmy stopped you both and wrapped both arms around you, pressing your face against his chest. “Chill out, let Chandler have some fun.”

“I’m just saying,” you muttered. 

“I know,” he placated quickly. “And I love you.”

You snorted and replied, “you’re coming back, aren’t you?”

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

“You wanna see something cool?”

With a strange look, you answered slowly, “um, what?”

“Look!” Flipping the camera around, he pointed down into the sand. You weren’t sure what exactly you were supposed to be looking at, so after a few seconds of staring at the sandy ground you spoke, “what?”

“Treasure,” his voice whispered loudly. He brushed the top layer of the sand away with his foot and you saw the edge of a dark brown chest of box buried in the ground. 

You snorted and the camera flipped back to face him. “You buried treasure?”

“I’m like a pirate,” he genuinely muttered to himself, looking down and covering the chest again off screen.

“Are the guys looking for it now?”

Shaking his head, he waved you off with one hand. “Nah, they’re staring at the ocean, they think we’re playing hide-and-seek.”

“With just you hiding?” You laughed.

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

You almost laughed aloud when you saw that Jimmy was already Face-timing you. “by my count, they’ve only been there a half hour.” You giggled, holding up your phone to show Katie the incoming call.

“answer, answer!” She squeezed beside you, bouncing excitedly as best she could with the limited space. 

Tapping the accept button, you were met with Jimmy’s incredibly closed up face. “what are you doing?” You tried holding back your laughter, but it escaped you when you heard Chris’ immediate voice in the background when he glanced and saw Katie on Jimmy’s screen.

“you said we couldn’t call!” 

Katie joined you in laughing when the screen was bounced from Jimmy’s face to looking up at the sky. If you had to guess, Chris probably tried grabbing the phone from Jimmy to speak to Katie and jostled the phone away from both of them. 

After a few seconds of an assumed struggle on the other end, both boys managed to squeeze their faces onto the screen. Jimmy and Chris had the apples of their cheeks tinted slightly red from the sun, and you could already hear their complaints for the next few days after they get back. 

“Jimmy said none of us could call!” Chris claimed loudly. 

“I did not!” Jimmy yelled. “I said you couldn’t call because you were building my tent!” 

“Well, now I’m not building your tent at all!” 

Jimmy replied immediately, wrestling the phone out of Chris’ hand and exclaiming, “I’ll sleep with Chandler!” A second of silence passed before he frowned and continued, “...actually, that’s not what I meant.”

“who’s sleeping with me?” Chandler’s voice called off from off the screen. At this point, you didn’t think you or Katie were necessary for the conversation. But it was still highly entertaining. 

“no one!” Jimmy and Chris yelled simultaneously. 

“come back already!” Katie yelled into the speaker and Chris swiped the phone quickly. 

“I’ll swim back if I have to!” He said dramatically. “Even Jimmy can’t-ow!”

“guys, we’ll talk to you when you get back,” you said into the phone. You already knew Jimmy would take the phone and it reigned true when his face popped up, immediately complaining. 

“what?! no, talk a little longer!” 

“I thought this was a 24 hour challenge?” You asked innocently, laughing alongside Katie.

“It is,” he insisted, making room for Chris who chimed in. “It’s a 24 hour challenge on a deserted island, not a 24 hour challenge...not...talking to our girlfriends?” As Chris finished his sentence he looked at Jimmy with a questioning look. 

Jimmy nodded. “yeah, it isn’t as catchy.”

“I doubt FaceTiming your girlfriends makes good content.”

“It does!” “please~?” They complained. 

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

#mr beast #mrbeast #mr beast imagine #mrbeast imagine #youtuber #youtuber imagine #imagine

[fallout-fallen-knight]

Meet My OCs masterpost!

It’s been a while since I’ve done one of these and I’ve gotten a lot of new followers and several new OCs in that time. Enough now that I should probably put them under a read more. OCs are divided up by main setting that they fall under - even though all my Fallout content takes place in its own ‘verse (distinct from the canon Fallout verse in that there are horses, among other differences), the various coasts tend to be pretty separate. Without further ado:

Fallen Knight

Fallen Knight is a longform fic that is currently and irregularly updating. It takes place in the Commonwealth in 2287-2289, featuring a mix of canon characters (often modified to my own convenience) and OCs. It can be found here. 

Christopher Farris, aka the Fallen Knight (Lone Wanderer)

[image ID: a drawing of Christopher Farris by @scarecrow-forest​. He is a white, blond man wearing a baseball cap, a green shirt, and a long tan vest. He is holding a baseball bat and has a pip-boy on his arm. End ID]

Christopher is my lone wanderer that I ported to Fallout 4. He is (currently) a Brotherhood of Steel Knight alongside Paladin Danse. He is the main character of Fallout: Fallen Knight. He has a strong moral compass and idolizes the knightly ideas of protecting the weak and confronting the strong. Content for him on my blog can be found at #fallen knight. 

Kristine Finch, Minuteman General

[image ID: a screenshot from Fallout 4 of Kristine Finch. She is a light-skinned woman in a blue shirt and tan jacket, with a cowboy-like hat. She is standing in front of a ramshackle wooden building with a neon sign that says “Minuteman HQ”. End ID]

Kristine is my Minuteman OC and the General of the Minutemen. Under her leadership, they have worked to make the commonwealth safer by uniting various settlements to exchange resources and provide mutual defense. She has also published the Minuteman Guide To Commonwealth Travel, also known as the Blue Book, a handy pamphlet for settlers and traders making their way across the Commonwealth. Content for her can be found at #one if by land.

Thomas “The Trigger” Calvani

[image ID: a screenshot from Fallout 4 of Thomas Calvani. He is a white, brown-haired man in road leathers with various leather armor layered over it. He wears a pair of reflective aviator sunglasses and a green bandana covering his face. He is standing in front of power armor with flames painted on it. End ID]

Thomas Calvani is a ne’er-do-well from the Atom Cats who has somehow managed to continuously fall upwards, somehow culminating with him as the Overboss of the Nuka World raiders after trying to go to Nuka World with MacCready and Cait. Content for him can be found at #tales from the commonwealth.

Greetings from Appalachia

Hector Sanchez (Reclaimer)

[image ID: a Vault Tec ID card from Fallout 76. It belongs to Hector Sanchez, a latine man with brown hair, a Vault 76 jumpsuit, and a van dyke beard. He is smiling and giving a thumbs up to the camera. End ID]

Hector Sanchez is an amateur cryptid hunter from Vault 76. Raised in the vault on his mother’s stories of cryptids before the war, he left the vault with his best friend Hazel in search of cryptids to find. Content for him can be found at #greetings from appalachia.

Fallout: Brave New World

Brave New World is a collection of various OCs who end up in the Mojave wasteland at the same time, in around 2289 or so. While no unifying narrative yet exists, I am planning some ficlets/short form fic around these OCs. 

Ace (Courier 6)

[image ID: a screenshot from Fallout: New Vegas of Ace. He is a latine man with an eyepatch, a black cowboy hat, and a black leather coat over blue jeans, with several belts and bandoliers. He is standing in front of Dinky the Dinosaur and pointing a gun off screen. End ID]

Ace is my courier, and a member of the Great Khans. Still a teenager when Bitter Springs happened, he was separated from the rest of the Khans and spent his remaining teenage years doing odd jobs around the Mojave and avoiding the encroaching NCR, culminating in a fateful job for the Mojave Express. He now finds himself down one eye, hunting the Mojave for Benny and the platinum chip. Content for him can be found at #ace in the hole.

Sophia Mobius

[image ID: a screenshot of Fallout: New Vegas of Sophia Mobius. She is a white woman with white hair and round, cat-eye glasses. She is wearing a red labcoat and has the holorifle strapped to her back. End ID]

Sophia is a Followers medic turned disciple of Doctor Mobius after a chance encounter with a crashed satellite sent her to the Big MT. She later traveled to the Sierra Madre casino with Arcade and Veronica to hunt down and stop Father Elijah. She is now working with the Veronica and Christine to convince Brotherhood members to leave, smuggling out technology if possible, to assist the Followers of the Apocalypse. Content for her can be found at #followers of mobius

Martin Goldberg aka the Silver Canary (Reclaimer)

[image ID: a drawing of Martin Goldberg and Emmerane Black, aka the Silver Canary and Coal Black, by @rotarydials​. Martin is a dark skinned man with silver hair and a beard. He is dressed in the Silver Shroud’s outfit - a black and gray trenchcoat and fedora with a silver scarf. He carries a submachine gun, which he is pointing off camera. Emmerane is a white woman with short black hair. She has black goggles and a black cloak over a white shirt and red vest. She is doing air-guitar motions. They both have pip-boys. End ID]

Martin Goldberg, known better as the Silver Canary, was a pre-war vigilante and the inspiration for the Silver Shroud. As a staunch anti-fascist and anti-capitalist, he had several encounters with the movers and shakers of American industry, notably Robert House, whose suite Martin broke into while he was visiting a West Virginia plant. Upon learning about Vault-Tec’s plans for Vault 76, he broke into Vault Tec University, changing the list of vault residents to a list of random West Virginia citizens, as well as himself. 

While in the Vault, Emmerane Black, a moody young woman born in the vault, declared herself his nemesis. When they left the vault in 2102, he learned of this, and instead decided to take her under his wing, forcibly adopting the young supervillain. Though they clashed often at first, they quickly found they had more in common than they realized, and soon teamed up to take on certain targets - most notably the Brotherhood of Steel. 

At some point in the following years, both Martin and Emmerane ghoulified, and in the late 2200s, Martin traveled west, to find his old nemesis, Robert House. He now haunts the areas around Vegas, a mysterious spectre doling out justice to the wicked. Content for Martin and Emmerane can be found at #the silver canary and coal black. Emmerane belongs to @corsairesix

Caroline Keene, Ranger of the Wastes

[image ID: a screenshot from HeroForge of a black ghoul woman with short braids. She is wearing a cowboy hat, long duster, cowboy boots, and a shirt and pants that are all brown with tan accents. She has a revolver and a knife strapped to her hip and a repeater on her back. She is offering a hammered tin cup to the “camera”. End ID]

Caroline Keene was a park ranger in a firewatch tower in Monongahela National Forest when the bombs fell. After a few days of quiet introspection, her and some of her fellow rangers agreed to make their way to the nearest town to find survivors, slowly making their way to Flatwoods and then Morgantown to join the Responders. 

After helping the Responders stabilize Appalachia in the wake of the Great War and faction infighting that followed, Caroline traveled west, continuing to help out those in need as he crossed the country that had once been America. During this time, she began to ghoulify; though initially and understandably distraught, a community of ghouls in what was once Texas helped her to accept her condition. Upon arriving in the Mojave, she found that her reputation as the “Ranger of the Wastes” preceded her, and she was recruited by the desert rangers, though she left again when they were incorporated with the NCR. Now, she has settled in the Mojave, starting a brahmin and bighorner ranch with her partners, and helping shelter, teach, and raise lost and disaffected youth in the Mojave. Content for her can be found at #ranger of the wastes

The King of the Road (Chosen One)

[image ID: a screenshot of Heroforge of a dark skinned ghoul in a black suit. He has a red tie and a red cape, and is wearing round glasses and an opulent crown. He carries a spear and has a holstered revolver on his hip. Near his feet is a pile of coins and a gray cat, ready to pounce. End ID]

The King of the Road was once the Chosen One of Arroyo, but became disatisfied with the duties of ruling and the pressures of being the tribe’s chosen one. In 2244, he left Arroyo, wandering New California as a drifter. He abanoned his name and title, choosing instead to take the name of the King of the Road as his renown as a drifter grew. He ghoulified due to his exposure to radiation over the years, but took to the change rather well. He continued to travel the roads of New California, eventually finding his way to the Mojave wasteland as the NCR did. Content for him can be found at #king of the road (when I make it).

Angelia King

[image ID: a Heroforge mini of a white woman seated on a white horse. She is wearing a tan jacket over a brown chest piece, chaps, and tan cowboy boots. She has a red bandana around her neck and several belts around her waist, one of which holds a holstered pistol. Her left eye is covered by an eyepatch and there is dark makeup around both of her eyes. She has short dyed blonde and red hair that is shaved on one side. She is brandishing a rifle towards the camera and there is a sawed-off shotgun on her back. End ID]

Angelina King, the leader of the Nightstalkers, a gang in the Mojave in 2289. When Ace drives the NCR out of the Mojave, she at first believes that she will be allowed to operate with relative impunity; however, when the NCR supply trains stop coming from the west (no longer needing to fight a war that has been lost), she starts hitting caravans first and then larger settlements, carving her way across the Mojave towards New Vegas. Content for her can be found at #the nightstalkers strike again.

Other OCs

Hannah Alton

[image ID: a screenshot from Heroforge of a white woman wearing a forest green cloak. She has a brown cloth wrapped around her chest and blue jeans on. She has a quiver of crossbow bolts on her hip and is holding a crossbow. She has red hair and several piercings. End ID]

Hannah Alton is my PC for our Fallout: New Orleans campaign run by and using the PBTA hack Powered by the Nuclear Apocalypse made by @corsairesix. Hannah is a “raider” from a gang called the Robbin’ Hoods, a gang dedicated to stealing from New Orleans’ ghoul aristocrats and redistributing their wealth to the town they’re based in. Content for her can e found on #fallout New Orleans and #powered by the nuclear apocalypse

#queue #fallen knight #one if by land #tales from the commonwealth #greetings from appalachia #ace in the hole #followers of mobius #the silver canary and coal black #ranger of the wastes #king of the road #fallout new orleans #powered by the nuclear apocalypse #the nightstalkers strike again

[ottelis]

"I gave you my life, Eliott," Lucas's voice shatters, splinters.

Eliott replies softly, broken, hollow, "And I gave you mine."

"No," Lucas says, low and dark. "No, you didn't."

.

.

aka: eliott and lucas grow up together, but are separated when eliott is institutionalized in paris after a severe depressive episode. they reunite two years later when eliott is released, but everything has already changed before their eyes.

epigraph. i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix.

09—la vérité

august 11th, 1968

07:55

caen, france

~

Eliott sleeps much better the night after his appointment than he thought he would. Perhaps the exhaustion took over and freed him from his thoughts. He's grateful for that, but now that he's awake, he has to face Lucas again. He's not afraid of looking Lucas in the eye, or seeing all the expressions that could flicker across his face in half a moment. He's afraid of what Lucas might say, of the way his tongue may curl and slash in his mouth, or the way it could lie still and tie itself in a knot. But he can't let his fear show anymore, not when he knows Lucas is in pain, when he knows he can try to help his best friend. 

He decides to talk to Lucas before mass, since he knows he'll be there most of the morning. He dresses for mass, too, putting on his white shirt and tying his black tie beneath the collar. He hasn't been to mass, let alone inside the church, since his father's funeral, and he supposes that now could be a good time to go.

His dress shoes are too small for him now, something he never would've anticipated. He borrows one of his father's pairs, and though they're a bit too big, they fit better than his own. They're old, but his father was buried in his nicer ones. It feels a bit strange, wearing his father's shoes, but he doesn't expect to be wearing them for very long. Just until after mass.

His mother is in the kitchen, preparing to make breakfast as he gets ready to leave. He apologizes to her quickly and tells her where he'll be, and that he'll meet her at mass. He gives her a kiss on the cheek and tells her he loves her.

He takes a deep breath as he opens the door, but it catches in his throat when he sees Lucas on the other side, his hand raised and ready to knock.

"Lucas, hey," he stammers. "Is everything okay?"

Lucas nods, bewildered, too. "Yeah. Yeah. Um, this might be an odd question," he begins awkwardly. "But I've kind of become the organist at our parish, and I have a key to the church. I like to get there early and practice some songs. It's just… It's lonely in there sometimes. The echo gets too much when you're alone. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?"

Eliott blinks, fumbling for an answer. "Of course," he manages, smiling. "I've missed hearing you play anyway." He's not being untruthful, but his mind starts running even faster once the words leave his mouth. Maybe he can steal a moment to talk to Lucas. Maybe on the way there, or right before mass. 

Lucas smiles, and his eyes brighten. "Thank you so much," he sighs. "It's honestly so eerie in there and it was about to drive me crazy."

"You're welcome," Eliott returns, smiling warmly. "Were you planning on leaving now?"

Lucas nods. "If that's okay."

"Okay," Eliott nods back. He calls over his shoulder, "See you in a bit, Maman."

"See you, honey," she calls back. "See you, Lucas."

"See you, Madame Demaury," Lucas responds as Eliott goes through the door. 

Eliott shuts the door behind him, taking another deep breath. Now he has to wait for the right moment to talk to Lucas. And he has to hope it won't go poorly like he's worried it might. He has to trust Lucas. 

They don't say a word as they walk to Lucas's car, but the silence is strangely comfortable, easy. Perhaps this should be the moment that Eliott grabs by the horns, but it's too precious for him to ruin. He's too enamoured by the sound of their soft footfalls on the grass, the slightest whisper of a breeze in the air. It's going to be a beautiful day.

"It is," Lucas says suddenly, startling Eliott. He must've said his thought aloud without realizing. "Most Sundays are. The whole world is at peace on Sundays." 

"Remember when we would build sandcastles almost every Sunday?" Eliott asks quietly, still afraid that speaking too loudly would ruin the moment.

"Because the sea was calmer," Lucas chuckles lightly. "I just can't believe we basically built the same sandcastle every week. How did we not get bored of it more quickly? We did that until we were almost ten."

"Maybe after mass we can build a sandcastle," Eliott suggests. "I think it'd be nice to come back to that."

"I like that idea," Lucas smiles warmly, letting his head tilt slightly down. 

They reach Lucas's car, piling in quickly. Lucas keeps the radio off again, but Eliott's parents never played music on the way to mass, either. Eliott doesn't mind the silence here, either. He thinks they've carried the silence from outside with them. 

The sun has risen considerably by now, but it still casts a soft, faint light on the city, coaxing it awake. It's kind today, loving. Fatherly, almost. It flows gently through the windows of Lucas's car, bathing them in a thin but warm layer of light. Eliott lifts his hand ever so slightly, letting it swim through the light. It's like water. He wiggles and curls his fingers, holds his palm face up to illuminate the lines there. 

"What are you doing?" Lucas asks with a chuckle.

"With my hand?" Eliott laughs, too. "Swimming."

Lucas smiles, glancing at Eliott's hand. His eyes follow the smooth, graceful movement of it until the car starts to swerve slightly. He quickly looks back up to the road, but the smile lingers on his face, small and content.

Eliott hopes that that smile means Lucas is doing better, that he won't have to ask him what's wrong. But Lucas was always good at hiding things, he's had so much practice with it anyway. Eliott keeps finding himself hoping and hoping.

The parking lot is empty, and it's a strange sight for Eliott. He's so used to hearing his father complain about how there weren't any parking spots left when they arrived for mass, he never thought it could be so barren. He could see what Lucas means when he says it can be eerie seeing the church deserted. He could only imagine what it's like in the chapel. 

They don't talk in the brief time it takes to get out of Lucas's car and to enter the church. Lucas still seems at ease, though, a stark contrast to his behavior at the cemetery last week. Eliott takes it as a good sign.

The lock unclicks with a creaky thud, and the door squeaks faintly as it opens. Lucas lets Eliott walk in first, making sure to lock the door behind them.

Eliott pauses just past the threshold, gazing at the chapel. It's still exactly as he remembers it—the stone floors gray as ash, the pale columns, the smooth arches, the statues with faces as familiar to him as someone he's known in real life. All the old paintings are still on the walls, all the elaborate stained glass is still intact and shining, all the same chairs are sitting in front of the altar like sentinels. He can still smell all the burning wax, the incense, wet stone. But there's something different, something in the air he doesn't recognize. Maybe he really has been away for too long and forgotten it was ever there. But it's heavy, leaves something crawling just beneath Eliott's skin. Maybe it's the ghost of memory—the ghost of a boy who prayed to God to make his papa feel better and not get sick anymore, the ghost of his father, the ghost of the flowers and incense that clouded and covered his coffin, the ghost of hymns played and sung through bitter tears.

"Spooky, isn't it?" Lucas teases, nudging Eliott's arm. 

Eliott nods, gulping. "I can see why you don't wanna be alone in here," he agrees, his voice thin.

Lucas chuckles lightly. "It's not as bad once I'm sitting at the organ. Then all of it's behind me."

"But you said the echo gets to you, too, right?" Eliott asks. 

Lucas nods, sighing. "I think you hearing it, too, will help. It won't be as lonely. It'll feel real for once. Not just some cruel trick of my imagination."

Eliott nods back, imagining the shrill yet regal notes of an organ filling such a cavernous, empty room. No voices to accompany it, no other instruments to help it swell and wane into sacred, gorgeous music. The thought sends a chill down his spine. 

"Tu viens?" Lucas asks softly, tilting his head towards the direction of the organ. His hand brushes against Eliott's, his touch another ghost in these hallowed halls. 

Eliott nods weakly, and Lucas smiles kindly. He leads Eliott to a corner of the building that he doesn't quite remember being there before, where a stone staircase lies in front of them. He can see the organ at the top, sitting below one of the large stained glass windows. He follows Lucas up the stairs, their footfalls only a quiet shuffling in the silence of the chapel. 

"Do you want to sit next to me?" Lucas asks as if he takes his place at the seat in front of the organ. It's wide enough to fit both of them. And Lucas is looking at him with a warmth that he could never deny. 

"Yeah," Eliott smiles, sitting next to him. He can't help but look up at the stained glass window above them. It's so simple—just a mosaic of diamonds dyed with gold and silver and oceans and clouds and jewels—but the way the light filters through it is enchanting, even in the half-light they're in right now. The sun hasn't risen high enough yet to shatter through it completely. Eliott can only imagine how beautiful it must be, then. He wishes he had paid more attention to this window before. 

"This is my favorite thing in the whole church," Lucas says, his eyes gazing up at the window, too. 

"It's beautiful," Eliott replies, reverent.

"Selfishly," Lucas begins, shrugging, his brow furrowed. "I feel like it's mine, in a way."

"I don't think that's selfish," Eliott shakes his head. 

Lucas smiles, looking down at the organ keys. His smile fades, but quiet thought takes its place. His hands hover over the keys for a moment, his fingers taking shape after shape of a thousand chords before settling on one. Lucas begins playing gently, slowly growing louder as the prelude progresses. Eliott instantly recognizes Ubi Caritas, and he lets himself smile. 

The organ was never Eliott's favorite instrument, despite hearing it his whole life. It was so easy to play too loudly, too dully. But in Lucas's hands, the organ is as elegant and stately and warm as it possibly could be. Lucas takes the love Ubi Caritas speaks of and lets it pour from his fingers and into the keys. Lucas could take any instrument and turn it to gold with the slightest touch, after leaving the faintest scar of a fingerprint on it. The echo of the music rings sweetly from the cold, aged stone, and Eliott can't imagine it sounding eerie or lonely. 

Eliott looks at Lucas, and for the first time today, he seems tense, anxious. His shoulders are tight, his back is hunched, his hands are shaking, his lower lip is caught beneath his teeth. But he doesn't let it betray his playing. The music still flows out of him so easily, so beautifully. 

But at the same time, Eliott has never seen Lucas like this while he's playing. He's been nervous before, of course, but it usually melts away once his fingers find their place on the keys. He's never started relieved and confident then grew nervous and stiff. 

Eliott feels the easy, comfortable dynamic between them start to break. His mind starts to reel, and his heart begins to stutter, all for Lucas. 

The hymn is over quickly, though, and Lucas releases a deep yet trembling breath. He stretches his hands, curling his fingers over and over. He's studying them as if they were someone else's hands, as if they don't belong to him.

"Does the echo bother you that much, Lucas?" Eliott asks softly, grasping at straws. 

Lucas shrugs fraily, hiding his hands between his thighs. His eyes flit across every visible thing around him except for Eliott. 

Eliott feels helpless, watching Lucas retreat into himself again. He shakes his head, maybe to help his brain rattle out a way to help Lucas.

"What if I played?" he tries, shrugging. "I know I don't how to play, but that's the trick. Maybe if I play a hymn off-key it won't make it quite as eerie in here."

Lucas smiles weakly, considering.

"Would that be sacrilegious?" Eliott asks under his breath, as if someone would hear them. "Playing random notes on a church organ?"

This makes Lucas chuckle, and Eliott already feels a thousand pounds lighter. "I don't think so, Eliott," Lucas shakes his head. "Just try not to play too loudly, okay?"

Eliott nods, hoping he'll know how to do that. He sees his hands trembling slightly as he places them just above the keys, playing whichever one each finger lands on.

He starts out with a discordant burst of music, one that nearly makes Lucas guffaw if he hadn't covered his mouth in time. After that, Eliott decides to not use all his fingers at once, instead plucking out a few random notes at awful, unsettling intervals. It's really not as awful as it could be, since he's not trying to play a real melody, but it's still not anything you would ever want to hear in a mass. 

Soon, Eliott thinks he's getting the hang of it and starts trying to make the notes string together, rather than play them stiltedly one by one. It doesn't work very well, though, and he only rushes into each note, making them bleed together until it's just noise. But it makes Lucas laugh, and maybe cringe a bit. 

"Okay, okay," Lucas interrupts after another one of Eliott's clumsy attempts at playing. He takes a moment to keep himself from laughing again before continuing. "I'm going to help you play because I don't think I can take anymore of this."

"You're going to teach me a lesson?" Eliott smiles, raising his eyebrows. 

Lucas rolls his eyes fondly. "I guess you could say that, yes," he agrees begrudgingly, but teasingly. "Here, let me take your hands," he continues, placing his hands just above Eliott's. "First, your form is terrible."

"Thanks," Eliott remarks sarcastically.

Lucas bites back a chuckle, ignoring Eliott's comment. "Pretend you're holding a ball in both your hands," he instructs. "They should be curled just slightly, they should never be completely flat. And straighten your back a bit, you're such a sloucher."

Eliott pouts, but follows his instructions. "Yes, maestro," he drones jokingly. Lucas can't hide his laugh that time. 

"You know 'Hot Cross Buns'?" Lucas asks through his laughter. 

"I don't think so," Eliott answers, genuinely this time. 

"It's really simple," Lucas continues. "It teaches you chords. Like this."

Lucas guides Eliott's hands to the correct place, gently pressing down on each finger that needs to press a key. They go through the song rather slowly and haltingly, Lucas letting Eliott get the hang of using his hands correctly. Lucas sings the words quietly as they go through it each time, and Eliott thinks that putting the words to it helps. He has something to pair the chords with, something he can picture in his mind while his hands bring it to life. 

"Okay," Lucas sighs, satisfied. "Try it by yourself. Go as slowly or as quickly as you want." 

Eliott nods, picturing the balls in his hands and the words to the song in his head. He gets through it slowly, but doesn't make any major mistakes until the very end when his left hand slips somehow.

"It's okay," Lucas says quickly, taking Eliott's hand and putting it back in the right place. "Try again if you want to."

He does, but messes up at the same spot. He admits a small mite of frustration flashed in his chest, but Lucas's comforting voice made it vanish as quickly as it appeared.

"Let's try just that part with me helping you again," Lucas suggests, only putting his hands on Eliott's once Eliott gives him an affirmative nod. "Here we go, slowly."

They take a moment to pause between each chord, slowly moving to the next one and making sure everything is in the right place. Slowly, but surely, Lucas takes his hands away and lets Eliott play by himself. 

Eliott plays the whole song, top to bottom, without any mistakes. It's the slowest version of "Hot Cross Buns" ever, but it's a successful attempt.

Lucas beams, telling him to play again, then again, then again. 

"We should play together," Eliott suggests after his fourth or fifth time through the song. "I'm on one side and you're on the other." 

"That'll be hard on an organ," Lucas replies, his eyes flitting across the keys. "It's not as similar to a piano than you would think it would be." 

"Do you think we could try?" Eliott asks, shrugging. 

Lucas studies the keys for a few more moments, then nods slowly. "I think so," he mutters, finding his place on the keys. "Go as slow as you want, I'll follow your lead."

"You're not going to show me up?" Eliott asks, raising an eyebrow. "Mr. Maestro?"

Lucas smirks. "I won't make any promises." 

Eliott chuckles, taking a moment before starting the song. And he realizes all too quickly that Lucas didn't promise for a reason.

Lucas is moving all around the keys, finding the perfect octave jumps and steps and half-steps. It sounds beautiful, of course, but a little too elaborate for a song like "Hot Cross Buns." 

Towards the end of the song, Eliott's left hand and Lucas's right hand land on the same area of the keys, Lucas's on top of Eliott's. They both stop suddenly, taking their other hand away, but Eliott's hand stays pinned beneath Lucas's. Lucas's skin is so warm and soft, and his hand looks so small against Eliott's. It makes Eliott smile, small but still brimming with joy. Lucas clings to Eliott's hand, awkwardly but sweetly intertwining their fingers.

As Eliott turns his head to look over at his best friend, Lucas's lips are suddenly crashing into his. 

Eliott's eyes widen, but flutter closed as Lucas deepens the kiss. He feels Lucas's hands in his hair, pushing him closer and closer to him. Lucas still tastes the same, like sleep and salty sea air. His lips are chapped, desperate, but Eliott would kiss them forever if he could. Eliott starts kissing him back once he's out of his stupor, cradling Lucas's face in his hands, fighting back a smile as their noses smush against each other. He feels Lucas's eyelashes brush against his cheeks as his eyes fly open. Lucas takes Eliott's hands and yanks them off his face. Eliott stumbles forward slightly at the force, his eyes opening now, too.

He looks up and sees Lucas stepping backwards from the bench, his hands clasped over his mouth, his eyes too wide and his face too pale. He starts shaking his head, holds out his hands pleadingly. "Eliott, please," he whimpers, his voice shattering. "I-I didn't mean to, I—"

"No, Lucas, it's okay," Eliott interrupts, approaching Lucas carefully. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat, but it stays stuck there, thick and aching. "I'm not mad at you. It… It just happened, right? We got carried away." 

Lucas shakes his head, tear after tear rolling down his cheeks. "No…" he chokes out. "I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to. And I did, and—" his tears stop his voice, his breath. His chest rises and falls so sharply Eliott feels his own breath strangle in his throat.

He takes another step towards Lucas, still careful as he can be. "Lucas…" he begins, unsure of what he'll say next. He reaches out a hand, nearing Lucas's shoulder.

Lucas takes a few more steps back, a sob tearing out of his throat. "No, no, don't touch me, please," he begs, holding out his hands again. "Please, Eliott, just stay away from me." 

Eliott opens his mouth, but nearly gets the wind knocked out of him as Lucas suddenly shoves him aside. Lucas rushes past him, heading towards the stairs. He pauses just before it, though, nearly falling to his knees before supporting himself against the wall. He leans against it, slowly sliding down to the floor. He buries his face in his hands, his whole body trembling.

"Lucas," Eliott tries again, softly, sitting in front of him. "I'm not leaving you again. I'm not going to do that to you. I can't. I care about you too much, and you're hurting too much right now for me to leave you like this." 

"Please, Eliott," Lucas sobs. "Just leave. Please. You haven't done anything wrong, and I don't want to ruin that for you. I can't ruin you. I'd never forgive myself." 

"You're not ruining me, Lucas," Eliott reassures, still careful not to touch him.

"I love you, Eliott," Lucas cuts in. His voice had been hard to discern through his tears, but for some reason those three words rang out clear as a bell. "I've always loved you. I've never stopped loving you. Don't you remember me telling you that? When we talked about everything that happened? I told you the exact same thing."

Eliott does remember. He remembers Lucas practically screaming it out of a bleeding throat. He nods at Lucas, feeling tears run down his face. 

"The more time I spend with you," Lucas begins, hopeless. "The more I realize that we're not meant to be together. Not even as friends. Because we could never be just friends anymore. Every time I look at you, I remember the times you would kiss me and love me like I had always wanted someone to. But what I want doesn't matter. It's wrong. It's a sin. And I don't want you to become a disgusting sinner because of me."

"We talked about this before," Eliott replies desperately, his heart beginning to hammer against his chest. "Remember? We agreed that it wasn't. God made us this way, Lucas, and God doesn't make mistakes. So how could we be mistakes? How could the way we love be a mistake?"

"God didn't make us like this," Lucas shakes his head bitterly. "And you have a chance to be saved, Eliott. You could meet a girl and love her with everything inside of you. I can't. It's too late for me."

"Lucas, what are you talking about?" Eliott asks, his brow furrowed. "You have Chloé. You're marrying her next year."

Lucas buries his face in his hands again, shaking his head weakly. "I don't love her, Eliott," he weeps, his voice muffled by his hands. "I can't love her. It doesn't matter if I marry her or maybe start a family with her. It's pointless if I don't love her. I'll always want someone else instead of her. I would still be sinning."

Eliott is speechless, unable to find an argument. He feels completely helpless, useless.

"Sometimes I wish you had just let me die that day," Lucas whispers, his heart climbing up his throat to nearly shatter Eliott's. 

Eliott feels himself sway, feels his breath getting crushed out of his lungs. His body grows numb, his head spins, his blood chills. 

"Why didn't you?" Lucas asks, lifting his head. His eyes are glassy, nearly empty as they meet Eliott's. "Why didn't you just let me drown?"

"You're my best friend," Eliott chokes out. "And I love you. And it would've been my fault if you didn't make it. And I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

"If I had just died you wouldn't have tried to kill yourself," Lucas says, his voice losing its emotion, as if he's thought of this a thousand times and it's as natural as breathing.

"That's not true," Eliott whimpers. 

"And you never would've gone to the institution—"

"That's not true—"

"And they wouldn't have done all those awful things to you—"

"Lucas, stop—"

"And you would've learned to be happy again. To miss me and smile like your papa said—"

"Please—"

Lucas rises to his feet then, pacing the balcony. He tugs on his hair, claws at the back of his neck. "I should've died. I was supposed to die. I never saw a light. Just darkness. I was never going to make it to heaven. I was supposed to die and go to hell and—"

"I said stop, Lucas!" Eliott begs, practically shouts. 

"Why can't I just die—"

Lucas's fist collides with the stone wall with a sickening crack. He screams, falling to his knees, holding his now broken, bleeding hand in his other one. 

Eliott rushes to Lucas, gathering his trembling body in his arms. He cradles him close to his chest, lets him sob into his shirt. He rocks back and forth, as if it would lull Lucas to sleep or take all his pain and torture away. He knows it won't, but he has to try something.

"I can't be a queer, Eliott," Lucas weeps, Eliott's shirt muffling his voice. "But I don't know how to stop it." 

"You don't have to stop, Lucas," Eliott tries again softly. "You don't have to try to be someone you're not."

"What if I hate who I am?" Lucas asks weakly, bitterly. He lifts his head slightly, turning it to where his ear is resting against Eliott's chest. "What if who I am keeps myself from getting everything I want? I'll be sent to hell. Everyone I love will be in heaven, and when I die I'll never see them again. I'll never see you again. I'll never see Maman again." 

Eliott starts gently shushing Lucas, holding him a little tighter, but Lucas keeps talking.

"My poor Maman," Lucas chokes out, sniffling. "How many times have I broken her heart over the years? I can't break her heart again. I'm the only thing she has left. And who knows when she won't have me anymore? Who knows when she'll die or when I'll die and then eternity comes between us? How has she lived with having me for a son? I'm not her baby boy anymore. I don't think I ever was." 

"She loves you more than anything, Lucas," Eliott replies. "I've seen it. She's your maman, and she loves every second she gets to be your maman."

"She fell in love with someone else," Lucas shakes his head. "Everyone has. You have, too. I can't be that person anymore. But I can't be myself either, because I can't bear to look at myself. I'm… I'm trapped, Eliott. I'm either trapped in someone I've created to make everyone happy, or I'm trapped in myself, who's a disgusting, filthy sinner—"

"Lucas," Eliott interrupts, taking Lucas's face in his hands and making him look at him. "You're not disgusting. You're not filthy. You're not a sinner. You're Lucas. And because you're Lucas, you love so much and feel so much that you explode sometimes. You're exploding right now. You've had all this weight to carry on your shoulders and on your mind, and you're starting to let it go by telling me how heavy it is. And I know how heavy it can be. Believe me, I do. And it's breaking you open and that's okay."

For once, Lucas doesn't have a rebuttal. His voice is silent and his tears are quiet. He rests his head on Eliott's chest again, and Eliott lets him. 

"I haven't believed in God much since Papa died," Eliott continues, trying to keep the tears out of his voice. "But when I did, I always felt He just wanted all of us to be happy. And when we're with someone we love, we're the happiest we could ever be. And that can't ever be wrong. Love can never be wrong. Especially from someone who calls Himself the God of love. Right?" 

Lucas doesn't answer, but Eliott can feel him trembling. 

"Listen, Lucas," Eliott sighs, gingerly weaving his hands through his hair. "When has that whisper the clergy always say is God speaking to you ever told you that you're wrong for being queer? When has that little voice ever told you anything like that? Or has it always been the clergy? Or has it always been other kids' parents whispering about queers before mass? Or has it always been Sunday school teachers? When have you ever felt a truly divine voice tell you anything that those people have told you?" 

Lucas is quiet again for a moment, but then shakes his head weakly. "Never," he replies fraily.

"You can love God and be devoted to Him and not go to mass every Sunday," Eliott says. "You can pray to Him and let Him speak to you in whatever little ways He does and you can get all your answers and comfort that way. You don't have to listen to other people who say they know what's best for you in the eyes of God, because what do they know? What do they know about the way God loves or speaks to one of His queer children? What do they know about the way He loves or speaks to any of His other children? God speaks to all of us in different ways, and maybe this isn't the way He needs to speak to you. Maybe you hate the way the music echoes in here because God speaks to you through music, and this building gets in the way of it. Maybe you need to take some time to find the way He speaks to you and hold onto that. Whether it's music, or reading His word, or a combination of multiple things, or whatever. And never let anyone take it away from you. Do you hear me, Lucas?"

Lucas nods. "I do."

Eliott smiles to himself. "Good," he sighs in relief. "And… We don't have to talk about us or do anything drastic until you've made peace with everything. You come first right now. I'll hold your heart for you once it's healed, once it tells me it's okay for me to cradle it. And then I'll give you mine, too. I'll wait as long as I need to." 

"Thank you," Lucas whispers, sighing. "Thank you so much, Eliott." 

"Anything for you, Lucas," Eliott smiles, kissing the top of Lucas's head. "And we're going to leave here now, and get that hand checked out. They'll find someone else to play the organ in your place."

He feels Lucas nod. 

"And one more thing," Eliott continues. "Remember when you and Chloé ran into me outside of the psychiatry office?"

Lucas nods again.

"If you want to, you could start being a patient there, too," Eliott suggests. "Dr. Garnier is extremely kind and patient. And he's like us, Lucas. He understands. He was in the same place you were once, and he knows how to get out of it. He can tell you so many things that you probably need to hear right now. I think he'll help you." 

"Okay," Lucas agrees, his voice a little stronger now. 

Eliott closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. "I love you, Lucas," he says quietly. "I don't want you to hurt like this anymore. I want to be here, no matter how awful or angry or lost you feel. Okay?"

"I love you, too, Eliott," Lucas returns, and Eliott can feel him smile. "And I'll let you be there. I promise I will."

Eliott kisses the top of Lucas's head again, unable to fight back his smile now. 

"Eliott?" Lucas says softly. 

Eliott hums in response, lifting his head.

"What would you have done?" Lucas asks, his voice getting quieter. "If I had died that day?" 

The thought has invaded Eliott's mind a million times, has appeared to him in countless nightmares, and it attacks him again once the words leave Lucas's mouth. 

Eliott resting his forehead against Lucas's, waiting, begging please open your eyes so I can see them again please wake up please come back to me please please please don't leave me, but Lucas never breathes again. His body is hollow as Eliott takes it in his arms, as he clings to it and his grief comes back to him in a tidal wave. He cries until he can't anymore, until the sun has nearly set. Someone approaches him, their footfalls soft, almost frightened on the sand. Then a scream, so agonized Eliott feels his own grief has shrunk to a spec of dust. Lucas's mother. Someone else comes, too, carefully removing Eliott's hands so they can take Lucas's body away. Eliott is too weak to fight back, to hold Lucas tighter, to refuse to let him go. His arms are emptying, and the last thing he feels is Lucas's lifeless hand brushing against his thigh. Madame Lallemant follows the person carrying her son's body, weeping and wailing, leaving a new ocean behind her. Eliott stays on the shore, broken and empty, the tide receding further and further away. 

It always ends there, Eliott alone with the weight of Lucas's body haunting his arms like a ghost. He always wakes up then, or something snaps him out of his thoughts. He never knows what happens next. He's never wanted to know.

"I don't know," he answers. He holds Lucas a little tighter, lets himself remember the way they fit together. He closes his eyes and lets himself smile. "But you're here now, Lucas. And you're alive. That has to mean something. If you really were meant to die that day, God would've found a way to stop me from saving you." 

"Yeah," Lucas replies, nodding slightly. 

"Do you remember what I said to you when you came back?" Eliott asks quietly. 

Lucas shakes his head. 

"I'm so happy you're here," he recites, his tears finally leaking into his voice. "I'm so happy you're okay."

Lucas lets out a sob, bunching Eliott's shirt in his hands. Another sob ripples through his body; another, another.

"You're safe now," Eliott whispers. "You're here. You're okay. God loves you. I love you. Your maman loves you. We all love you so much, Lucas. You're alive and you're so loved." 

Lucas cries harder, but Eliott can feel him smiling against his chest, hear his relieved sighs between sniffles and sobs. He smooths soothing circles into Lucas's back, holds him as closely as he can, waiting for Lucas's tears to dry, but almost hoping they won't. It's nice here, tucked away in a corner of the church; the stained glass window spilling heavenly light on them, all the bad memories that live in this place being slowly burned and faded away like incense, Lucas in Eliott's arms and Eliott in Lucas's. It's calm, tranquil, peaceful. All the cold stone and lifeless statues have been chipped away, only leaving the warmth you're supposed to feel from holiness, from sacredness. The warmth of love, understanding, safety, life. Eliott could stay here forever, knowing it means that Lucas will be safe in his arms, and that they can just exist. They don't have to be anything or mean a certain thing to each other. They're together, and they love each other, and they're meant to be close to each other. Eliott has always known that, but now Lucas does, too.

But soon, Lucas isn't trembling with sobs anymore. He's breathing deeply, easily. Eliott actually thinks Lucas has fallen asleep for a moment, but Lucas speaks when Eliott is about to check.

"Eliott?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Can we go to the hospital now?" he asks. "My hand is killing me. I think it's broken."

Eliott looks down as Lucas pulls away slightly, revealing his hand. Scarlet blood is slicked all over it, gushing from his knuckles. And if Lucas's hand is broken, the blood is covering up any bruising. Eliott's stomach turns at the sight, nodding hurriedly. "Okay. Can you get up?"

Lucas nods, slowly rising to his feet. There's blood all over his pure white shirt, and when Eliott looks down at his shirt, his is, too. Somehow, these sights make him feel nauseous, too, but he manages to force the bile down. He rises, too, guiding Lucas down the stairs and out of the church. 

Luckily, Eliott is able to drive from the church to the hospital. Eliott goes a little faster than he should, but it's still fairly early, so the roads aren't too busy. 

When they're nearly there, Eliott looks over at Lucas and sees him cradling his injured hand close to his chest, his eyes closed. He watches for a moment as the stains on Lucas's shirt get darker, and he involuntarily pushes the gas pedal a little further forward.

"I'm not dying, Eliott," Lucas mutters, almost chuckling. "You don't have to speed to get me to the hospital."

Hearing Lucas joke puts Eliott slightly at ease, and he lets his foot slightly off the gas. He exhales slowly.

Everything is going to be okay. 

They arrive at the hospital about five minutes later, and their first priority (besides Lucas's hand, of course) is to call their mothers. They'd be going to mass soon, and when they realize that their sons aren't there and that Lucas's car is gone is a recipe for panic and chaos. Eliott will have to use the hospital payphone of course, he doesn't have a potentially broken hand. 

"But what am I gonna tell them?" Eliott frets as they wait for someone to take Lucas back. "They're going to ask what happened, and I can't tell them you punched the church wall." 

"I don't know," Lucas shrugs. "But, I'm pretty sure a bit of my blood is on the wall so maybe we should just tell the truth. Well, not the whole truth." 

"How much do I tell them, then?" Eliott asks. 

"Say the empty church got to my head and I started panicking and I punched the wall," Lucas suggests. "That's all true."

"Okay," Eliott nods, writing out a script in his head. "What if your maman gets upset?"

"She's going to, Eliott," Lucas sighs. "That's how she is. The best thing to do is tell her a few times that I'm okay, and that we're at the hospital and someone is taking care of me. If she says she'll be coming down here, don't tell her not to. If she's here with me, it'll make her feel better." 

Eliott nods again. "My maman will probably want to come down here, too."

Lucas nods. "A Lallemant-Demaury party at the hospital," he chuckles lightly. 

Eliott chuckles, too, his head thudding lightly against the wall. He sighs deeply, and Lucas does, too, next to him. He looks over and Lucas's eyes are closed again, bursts of pain flashing across his face. "Are you sure you're okay, Lucas?" Eliott asks again for the twentieth time in the last hour.

Lucas nods, opening his eyes. "It'd be nice if someone would see me already so they can fix me up and then I can sleep. I forgot how exhausting attacks like that are. I could sleep for a week, I think."

Eliott opens his mouth to reply, but someone calling Lucas's name interrupts him. Lucas sighs in relief, rising to his feet.

"I'll go ahead and call our mamans," Eliott tells him as he leaves. "Get better, okay?"

Lucas smiles at him over his shoulder as he follows the nurse down the hall. 

Eliott watches Lucas disappear into a room, letting out another deep sigh. He hopes Lucas's hand won't be as badly hurt as it seems like it could be. He hopes Lucas will remember everything Eliott told him today, that it won't be lost in the fog of panic. He hopes that today is a turning point for Lucas, that he can actually start healing, that he can nurture his heart the way it needs to be.

Eliott smiles to himself as he stands up, feeling cold coins on his fingertips as he fishes through his pockets. Now's the hard part: calling their mamans.

august 14th, 1968

10:58

caen, france

~

"I still don't know how you managed to punch a stone wall and walk away with barely a fracture," Eliott teases, noticing how nervous Lucas seems. They're sitting in the waiting room of the psychiatric office with Madame Lallemant. It's a dreary day today, heavy with the humidity of a coming storm, making the usually warm office not as welcoming as it has been before. And, of course, that doesn't ease any of Lucas's worries.

Lucas smiles weakly at Eliott's comment, but it doesn't linger. He's gone back to his old habit, even with an injured hand. His right hand is clasped over his left, rather than the other way around, and he doesn't squeeze as hard as he usually does. Eliott's noticed that if he squeezes the slightest bit too hard he winces, exhaling sharply.

"Are you sure you don't want me in there with you, mon cherie?" Madame Lallemant asks kindly, placing her hand on Lucas's shoulder. 

Lucas pauses a moment, then nods. "Yes, Maman," he sighs. "I'll be okay."

"Would you want Eliott to go with you?" she asks, looking at Eliott.

Lucas looks at Eliott, too, and there's something in his eyes that Eliott can't quite read. He sighs, then shakes his head. "I'll be okay."

Eliott finds himself smiling, pride flitting softly in his chest like a heartbeat. "Dr. Garnier is really easy to talk to, Lucas," he says. "He's really good at what he does. He'll help you a lot."

Lucas smiles, too, exhaling slowly. 

"Lucas?" Dr. Garnier's voice calls as he steps into the waiting room. He smiles when he sees them all, approaching them. "You're his mother, I presume?" he asks Madame Lallemant, holding out his hand. 

"Yes, sir," she smiles, shaking his hand. "Madeleine."

"Nice to meet you, Madeleine," he smiles back. "And Lucas, nice to meet you as well," he says, shaking Lucas's hand now. "What happened to your other hand?" he asks, staring at Lucas's injured hand. 

"It's a bit of a long story," Lucas replies shyly.

"We can talk about it once we're alone," Dr. Garnier dismisses. He looks over at Eliott, smiling wider. "It's good to see you again, Eliott. How are you?"

"I'm well," Eliott nods, smiling back. 

"You don't need to see me today, either?" Dr. Garnier asks.

Eliott shakes his head. "Just Lucas."

"Very well," Dr. Garnier nods. "Are you ready, Lucas?"

Lucas nods, standing. He says a quick goodbye to Madame Lallemant and Eliott before following Dr. Garnier to his office. 

Once they hear the door shut behind them, Madame Lallemant sighs deeply, almost shakily.

"I always worried he would end up like me," she says quietly, biting her nails. 

"What do you mean?" Eliott asks, his heart aching for her at her words.

"Sick," she replies, thin and tired. "I don't know if you noticed, you were so young, but… he was different after his father left us. He was able to move on from that, of course, but it changed him more than he admits. He's been becoming more and more like me. He's getting sick."

Maybe it's the exhaustion the past few days have left him with, but tears start filling Eliott's eyes. He shakes his head weakly, fights back the tears. "Lucas is strong. He's just not as strong as he usually is right now. He's not sick."

"You haven't seen him the last two years, Eliott," Madame Lallemant replies fraily. "Nightmares, these… spells where he's panicked beyond belief and I can't calm him down… The whole time I was waiting for him to break like I have before. He never did, but… He came so close so many times. He…" A tear rolls down her cheek, then, but she quickly wipes it away. "He started drinking at one point. He would be gone all night but then I would see him at the table at breakfast every morning like nothing ever happened. Like he'd been sound asleep in his bed all night instead of drinking himself dizzy."

Eliott's eyes are wide, his mouth dry. "He was drinking?" he asks quietly, his voice almost not coming out.

"He stopped when he met Chloé," she replies quickly, seeing Eliott's worry. "And even if he hadn't, I was planning on sitting him down and talking to him about it. Back then, I was worried the drinking would have the same effect on him that it did on his father. He was already so much like me, I didn't want him turning into his father, too. But after Chloé, he was almost himself again. He still had nightmares sometimes, but they were only once in a blue moon, really. He wasn't gone all night anymore. And at breakfast, his eyes were sparkling and alive, not glazed over because he's still the slightest bit drunk. He would talk to me, tell me about his day, tell me about all these plans he had with Chloé," she smiles widely, chuckles lightly. But she bites her lip, looking down the hallway where Dr. Garnier's office is. "Now he's not talking to me again. He's going out at night again, but he's never out too late, so I don't think he's drinking again. I don't know what's wrong with him. He's my son and I don't know what's wrong with him. I'm his mother. I'm all he has and he won't turn to me anymore."

Eliott stands, quickly moving to the seat Lucas was sitting in as Madame Lallemant cries harder. He places a careful arm around her shoulder, takes a moment to gather himself before offering any words of comfort.

"He's learning right now, Madame Lallemant," he begins. "He's learning how to rely on people. He's getting the help he needs to do that right now as we speak. He's talking with Dr. Garnier, and the more he talks, the easier it'll get. He needs time. It's painful, but that's all you can give him right now. Give him time and space and make sure he knows that you're there for him when he's ready. And, thankfully, that's all he needs."

Madame Lallemant nods, breathing deeply and wiping away her tears. "Okay," she sighs, nodding. "Okay."

"He's going to be okay," Eliott promises, and this time, his voice doesn't waver. "He's going to go off to school and become the doctor he's always wanted to be, and he's going to be married, and he's going to be the happiest man in the world. He's meant to be successful and happy and the most wonderful person we've ever met."

"He is," she grins, nodding. "He is." 

Eliott grins back, giving her shoulder a gentle, comforting squeeze. He waits patiently for her breath to even out, for her tears to dry.

"I never thanked you," Madame Lallemant says before Eliott can think of a way to pick the conversation back up. "For saving him that day. And I never apologized either, for the way I acted when you came to visit him."

Eliott shakes his head. "You don't have to apologize," he dismisses. "It was so long ago."

"You're like a son to me, Eliott," she cuts in. "How could I not apologize to my son?"

Eliott smiles, getting emotional again, nodding once. "I didn't know how to tell you I almost lost him," he shrugs. "I don't think I'd fully processed it anyway. I wouldn't have been able to talk about it."

"I understand," she nods. "I just remember them starting to take his shirt off, and there were all these bruises on his chest…" 

A wave of nausea washes over Eliott for a moment, but he's able to keep himself steady.

"The doctor and the nurses all looked at each other, like they were having a conversation without saying a word. One of the nurses started feeling all over his chest, then he stopped at one spot, saying that one of his ribs was cracked. And the doctor nodded and asked me if my son was unresponsive before we brought him here," her voice catches, and she takes a moment, breathing deeply. "And I asked him if he meant dead, and he nodded. And I said I didn't know, because I wasn't there when it happened, but you were. So he sent someone to find you and ask you about it."

Eliott nods, the memories briefly passing through his mind. 

"I think I was in shock," she shrugs. "First, you run in telling me Lucas needed to go to the hospital because he almost drowned. Then, not even thirty minutes later, someone asks me how long my baby boy was dead for," her voice breaks again, but she keeps talking. "I think I felt guilty, too. I had no way of knowing it was happening, of course, but I wouldn't have been there in his final moments. I wouldn't have been able to tell him how much I love him one more time. I couldn't remember the last thing I had said to him. It had been almost a full day between that last night and the moment you came running in. I was… I was such a mess."

"It's okay," Eliott says softly.

"I need you to know that I was never mad at you, or upset with you, or anything like that," she adds. "If it weren't for you, I would've had to bury my son. It was simply too much for me to handle. Just the thought of it. Everything was happening so quickly and—"

"It's okay, Madame Lallemant," Eliott repeats, a little louder. "And I forgive you. I know how much you love Lucas. I've felt how overpowering and all-encompassing a mother's love is. That's all it was. After nearly losing him, you loved him even more than you have before."

Madame Lallemant is quiet for a moment, smiling with teary eyes. "You really do have Noémie's heart, Eliott," she says quietly. "So… full and pure."

Eliott bites his lip to keep from smiling to wide.

"And you look just like Eduard did when we were all younger," Madame Lallemant adds, a notable sadness in her voice now. "I wonder how your mother stands it sometimes, you know. Seeing so much of him in you."

Eliott's smile fades, and his lower lip remains caught beneath his teeth. He nods weakly, looking down at his lap. "If I had a penny for every time someone's said that to me…" he mumbles, shaking his head now. He doesn't think Madame Lallemant heard him.

"He was about your age when he volunteered for the military," she continues. "Imagine, a boy as young as you are right now going off to war…" she trails off, shaking her head. "I pray for a lot of things every day and night, and one of them is that you and Lucas will never have to go through what your fathers went through." 

"The war killed Papa," Eliott thinks aloud. He doesn't know where the thought came from, only that it ended up on the tip of his tongue. "It doesn't matter that it took over 20 years for it to kill him. It did." 

Madame Lallemant places her hand over his, squeezing it gently. "I know, Eliott," she says softly. "I know."

She drops her hand, and Eliott pulls his arm away. He occupies his hands with the hem of his shorts, absentmindedly tracing the seams. The small curves of each stitch are comforting, steady and constant like a heartbeat. He doesn't mind the silence between him and Madame Lallemant, either. It's not quite comfortable, but it's not intrusive, either. He keeps tracing seams, keeps himself occupied.

Outside, rain begins to pour gently, tapping almost rhythmically on the pavement, on the asphalt. Eliott wishes he could hear the sound of the rain as it falls on the ocean right now. It always sounds different accompanied by the waves, like black and white keys on a piano being played at the same time. Maybe him and Lucas can listen to it when they get home, if Lucas is feeling up to it. Maybe Lucas can memorize the combination of black and white keys and hold it gently in his hands until it's written in the lines of his palms, his fingertips. Then maybe he can play it whenever they miss the sound, or whenever they don't want to go out into the rain themselves. Eliott smiles at the thought, at another secret him and Lucas can keep until later.

A door opens down the hall, and Lucas steps out first, the picture of relief. He smiles as Dr. Garnier steps out and pats him on the shoulder, easy and comfortable. Lucas's smile widens when he looks over and sees Eliott and Madame Lallemant, waving at them as he walks a little faster. Eliott notices faint tearstains on Lucas's cheeks as he approaches them, and a tint of pink at the corner of his eyes, but he's smiling still and breathing easily. 

"How was it, mon cherie?" Madame Lallemant asks, pulling her son into a tight hug. 

"Good, Maman," he replies, kissing her cheek. "I needed it."

"You're feeling better?" she smiles, wiping the stray tears from his face. 

Lucas nods. "Much better." 

"If it's all right with you, Madame," Dr. Garnier begins. "I'd like to see him again next week. But, of course, we can have him back whenever you're available." 

Madame Lallemant nods. "Of course. We should be okay for the same time next week."

"Great," Dr. Garnier smiles. "It was nice meeting you, Madame," He turns to Eliott then, holding out his hand. "It was nice to see you again, too, Eliott. Remember to call if you need anything at all, okay?" 

Eliott shakes Dr. Garnier's hand, smiling back warmly. "I will." 

"Drive safe, okay?" Dr. Garnier says, waving goodbye as he turns on his heel and walks back down the hallway.

Eliott shifts his gaze over to Lucas, and their eyes meet. He relaxes when he sees Lucas smile, take a step closer to him. 

"Thank you, Eliott," Lucas says. "For telling me to do this." 

"You're welcome," Eliott returns, nodding.

"Do you and your maman want to join us for lunch?" Lucas asks. "Maman always buys too much food and we just end up throwing it away. It'll be like the old days, too."

Eliott grins, nodding. "I'd love to. And I'm sure Maman would love to join, too."

Lucas grins, too, bowing his head. His grin has shrunk to half of a smile when he looks back up. "Let's go." 

august 16th, 1968

18:34

caen, france

~

Since he came home from the institution, Eliott helps his mother with the dishes almost every night. She reassures him she can do them herself on the days where his mood was lower than usual, but for the past few weeks they've been able to do them together. 

It's comforting to Eliott, doing something so casual and mundane with his mother. They talk about what their days were like, or whatever random thoughts come to their mind. Lately, his mother has been talking about all the TV shows she's been watching. Eliott hasn't seen any of them, but he lets his mother explain every character and every plotline because it always makes her smile, makes her eyes light up. 

"Have you talked to Lucas recently?" she asks tonight, a hopeful yet relaxed look on her face.

Eliott shakes his head. "Not since we had lunch with them the other day. He told me right before we left that he was going up to Paris for a couple of days to tour his school."

"He'll be starting his first semester soon, won't he?" she replies, cleaning a spot on a plate that Eliott missed.

"Beginning of September, I think," Eliott nods. "Hopefully he'll find someone that can help him like Dr. Garnier while he's there."

"I'm sure there's plenty of people in Paris that can help him," his mother smiles, but it begins to fade from her face as a beat of silence hangs between them. "I just feel bad that you two just reconciled and now he has to go to school."

"It's okay, Maman," Eliott reassures her. "We'll write letters. He'll be here for the holidays. This isn't goodbye for us." 

"But you'll miss him," she says, rather quietly.

"Of course I'll miss him," Eliott agrees, shrugging. "But I know that he'll miss me, too." 

His mother smiles again, sighing contentedly. "You know, Ellie, Papa always said that God gives us people we're meant to fall in love with. But I think He also gives us best friends, someone we love in a different way, but we love them with a love just as powerful as the romantic kind. I think God meant for you two to be best friends."

"Was Papa your best friend, too?" Eliott asks, unable to help but think the two loves could be intertwined. "Or was he just the person you were meant to love?"

She considers, tears filling her eyes. "He was both," she nods. She fidgets with her wedding band, smoothing her finger over it. "He was both."

"I think I've found someone who's both, too," Eliott begins, not stumbling over a single word. He remembers saying the truth resting on the tip of his tongue to his father's grave, remembers the way saying it aloud reminded him that he'll never know if his father's love was unconditional. He remembers Lucas's voice echoing hauntingly in the empty chapel as he says they could never be just friends again, as he says that he loves him, always has loved him, will never stop loving him. He remembers how much he kept from his mother whenever she asked him what had happened with Lucas. He wonders how much his world will change all over again once those fateful words leave his lips. 

"You have?" his mother asks after a moment, her face unreadable. 

Eliott nods, tries to breathe but his chest is too tight. Somehow, the words strangle out of his throat: "I love Lucas, Maman." 

"Oh," breathes, her eyes flitting as they must be scanning through memory after memory. She looks back at Eliott after a moment, softening when she sees his tense, nervous expression. "Is… that why you were so upset when you came home? You love him, but he's in love with Chloé."

Eliott nods weakly. "And because we were together. Before I had to go to the institution. I thought we were still together, but somewhere along the way it ended without me knowing. I came home, and it was over."

His mother blinks, shaking her head slightly. "How long were you together? When did you…"

"About a month and a half before Papa died," Eliott replies, his voice growing thin and weak. "Not very long at all, since after that night we just wrote letters. But that month and a half held some of the best days of my life, Maman. Because he was mine and I was his. Because he loved me and I loved him, too."

"Does a part of him still love you?" she asks quietly, watching for any reaction from Eliott that says she's crossed a line, asked the wrong question. 

"I don't know how much of his whole it takes up," Eliott sighs, shrugging. "But there is a part of him that does. He's… He's told me so. That he still loves me." 

"Does Madeleine know about this?" his mother continues, subconsciously looking in the direction of the Lallemants' house. 

Eliott looks too, his heart sinking as the answer comes to his mind. "I don't think so." 

Tears spring in his mother's eyes again. "Did… Papa know about this?"

Eliott instinctually bites down on his lower lip to keep it from trembling. He shakes his head as he waits for the lump in his throat to dissolve. It never does. "No," he chokes out. He realizes the lump in his throat is the memory of telling the truth to a stone. It claws at his throat, scratches behind his eyelids. "He never knew. I never got to tell him…" He trails off, a sob stopping his voice. 

A tear rolls down his mother's cheek, becomes lost in the crease of her wobbling frown. "Then tell me, honey," she sobs. "Tell me. Tell me what you never got to tell him."

The lump, the memory in his throat seems to burst, filling his chest and mouth with a burning, bitter taste. He almost chokes on it, but he's able to take a deep, steadying breath. "I'm queer, Maman," he repeats from that day at the cemetery, the first time living ears will hear him say the words. "My heart's stammered for girls before, but it can skip a beat for boys, too. My heart can fall in love with anyone I think, but it's loved Lucas above all else. It loves him because he's beautiful and stubborn and wonderful and paper-thin and warm. I've… I've loved him my whole life, I think. I think I'll love him forever." 

"Even after everything that's happened?" his mother asks, still quiet, hesitant. "Even still?"

"Even still," Eliott nods, his voice clearing enough to make the words sound as resolute and sure as they feel on his tongue. He holds his breath once they leave his mouth, though, his heart bracing, steadying itself against his ribcage. He can't bear that awful weight he felt at the cemetery again. He can't.

But his mother smiles, ear to ear, a new sun appearing and shining in her eyes. She lifts her hands to cradle her son's face, wipe away his tears. This only makes Eliott cry harder—the warmth of her hands, her love. He places her hands on top of hers, holds them as tightly as he can. 

"My sweet Ellie," she sighs, her voice thick with tears now, too. "There's nothing else in this world I love more than you." 

A sob bursts like joy from Eliott's throat, choking him with the refrain of a majestic orchestra. He drops his hands and envelops his mother in his arms, wishing he'll never have to let her go. She slowly guides him to the floor as his knees become weak with relief, keeping him safe close to her chest.

"I'll never forget," she begins, running her hands through his hair. "The day Papa and I went to the doctor and he told me I was pregnant. We'd been trying for over three years to have a baby, and suddenly we had one. I squeezed Papa's hand and looked down at my belly and my heart burst like it never had before. You were the smallest you'd ever be and my love for you was bigger than my body will ever be. And it was immediate. The love I had for the baby I was carrying. The love I had for you. And it keeps growing. The day you were born, and I held you and looked at your sweet, little face for the first time and you were real and you were mine. The day you learned to walk and talk and sing and play. Every birthday and Christmas. Every drawing you've ever given me, every smile. My love for you grows every single day. It could never shrink, let alone disappear completely. Especially in a single moment. There's nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you." 

Eliott's tears keep running down his face, staining his mother's shirt. "What about Papa?" he asks, his voice muffled. 

"I wish you could've known just how much he loved you, honey," she replies, close to sobbing now, too. "Every time he got sick, he would get scared that it was his time and that he would leave you. He was always afraid he wouldn't get to say goodbye to you. That night… He was begging everyone who would listen that he needed to see his boy one last time, before God took him home. Every doctor, every nurse, random people passing by his room. He couldn't bear the idea of never seeing you again. If you had had the chance to tell him, I think he would love you even more for being so brave and so yourself." 

Another sob escapes Eliott's throat, his mother's words replacing the memory of the silence of the cemetery. He urges the words to echo in his mind, to keep filling the silence, to keep reminding himself of the fact that he was blessed with two best parents he could've asked for. He reminds himself to never forget that he is loved, despite everything. 

"I'm so happy you trusted me enough to tell me, Eliott," his mother says, kissing the top of his head. "I'm just so proud of you. You'll always be my baby boy." 

"Thank you, Maman," Eliott replies, his voice flooded with tears of joy. "I love you so much." 

"I love you, too," his mother returns, pulling away and helping him to his feet. "Let me make you some tea, honey."

"We just did dishes," Eliott replies, slightly fatigued now.

"I'll just need the kettle and a cup," she dismisses, turning around to give him a kind, reassuring smile. "It won't be the end of the world if I use those."

Eliott returns the smile, sitting at his usual place at the table. He watches her make the tea, the way she treats everything so carefully and so lovingly. He's overwhelmingly glad his doubts about her were so wrong he wonders where they came from in the first place. The whistling of the kettle doesn't make him jump like it usually does.

She sets the tea in front of him, the teabag already steeping and curling in the nearly boiling water. He wraps his hands around the cup, the warmth becoming softer when his mother moves her hands on top of his. She squeezes lightly before pulling away, sitting across from him.

"What's happening between you and Lucas?" she asks quietly. "Is he going to stay with Chloé?"

Eliott bobs the teabag, shrugging. He doesn't want to recount what Lucas had said about her in the church earlier that week, so he comes up with an innocent lie. "Probably. I don't blame him. I never could." 

"But he loves you," his mother replies. "He loves you the way you love him?"

Eliott nods. "I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous it is for people like us, Maman. He doesn't want to fight the rest of his life."

"Do you?" she asks, even quieter now.

Eliott bites his lip, looks at the darkening liquid in his cup instead of his mother's eyes. "I don't know," he answers honestly. "For Lucas, I would. But I can't force him into a battle he doesn't want to fight just because I want him to. That's not what loving someone is. It's fighting with them, not for them." 

"The people we love can only fight for so long," his mother replies. "We need to let them rest. That's when we fight for them. When they can't fight for themselves." She sighs, taking Eliott's hand again. He looks up, his heart softening when he sees the earnest, passionate curl to her lip as she continues. "Honey, maybe… Maybe Lucas needs to rest right now. Maybe soon he'll be ready to fight again. And if he is, he'll find you and stay by your side as long as he can." 

Eliott smiles, squeezing her hand. "Maybe." 

His mother smiles back, tears reappearing in her eyes. "Don't give up on him. Even if he doesn't love you the way you want him to, you still need each other. You still complete each other. You're still best friends."

Eliott nods. "I won't, Maman. I promise." 

"He needs to hear you promise that to him, too, Eliott," she tells him. "Especially after the week he's had…" 

Eliott nods again. "I know." He sighs, looking over his shoulder to stare at the small part of Lucas's house he can see through the window. "I know." 

"There's a reason you were able to save him that day," his mother continues. "And there's a reason he was able to save you that night."

"I know," Eliott repeats one more time, remembering him saying the same thing to Lucas in the chapel. "But I'm not sure if Lucas knows has fully realized that yet." 

"All the more reason to talk to him," his mother smiles. "There's still so much more he needs to know and you need to tell him those things. As soon as you can."

Eliott looks back again at Lucas's house. "Should I go over there now? See if he's home?"

"I think it's worth it to try, honey," she nods. 

"Okay," Eliott nods back, rising from his seat. He sighs when he sees the pride in his mother's eyes, pride of his own filling his chest. "I don't know what I would do without you, Maman."

His mother's watery smile widens as she rises, too, giving her son another tight, loving hug. "I love you, Ellie."

"I love you, too, Maman."

Then, a knock at the door. They both jump, pull away from each other's embrace. 

"I'll answer it," Eliott tells her, crossing to the front of the house.

A laugh nearly escapes his throat when he opens the door and sees Lucas standing there, hopeful.

"I was… I was just about to come and see you," Eliott says, letting himself chuckle.

Lucas chuckles, too, his eyes crinkling. He pauses, his smile fading slightly. He looks towards the sea, taking a deep breath. He looks back at Eliott. "I know it's not Sunday, but… Do you want to build some sandcastles?"

august 16th, 1968

19:10

caen, france

~

Eliott lets Lucas lead him down the beach, making sure he doesn't force him closer to the shore than he's comfortable with. He watches Lucas, too, trying to pay as much attention to his body language as he can. Lucas doesn't seem anxious at first, only wound up slightly, but his nerves seem to build with every step. His eyes keep flitting between the sand beneath his feet and the horizon ahead of him, most likely trying to keep himself from going too far, too. He's squeezing his hand again, right over left. He'll stop occasionally—look beneath, ahead, behind, at Eliott—but then keep walking. He walks a little slower each time, his shoulders drawing further and further inward, his body close to collapsing in on itself.

"We don't have to do this, Lucas," Eliott says, almost begging. "I can tell you're anxious. You don't have to do this for me." 

:Lucas stops again, turning around. He bites his lip, keeping his eyes on Eliott's as they plead trust me, please. Lucas must've seen the recognition cross Eliott's face because the plea is gone with a blink. "Here's a good spot," he replies, the corner of his mouth quirking up. 

Eliott takes a deep breath, nodding. He sits next to Lucas, who's already started gathering handfuls of sand. Eliott watches the streams of gritty glass flowing from between his fingers, watches them catch the light of the setting sun and send out a burst of crying, white light. He feels the urge to find every grain of it and hold it in the palms of his hands, let them bury themselves in the lines there so they'll know they're safe. He knows, too, how it feels to slip from Lucas's grasp, if only for a moment. Maybe empathy is what's giving him that urge, too. 

Lucas isn't looking at him. He's studying the piles of sand he's built into a small mound, the piles currently melting in his hands. His mouth is open as if he's about to say something, but a minute or two passes by and not even the smallest sound comes out. He looks out at the sea, and Eliott can't see his face.

"I can still taste it sometimes," Lucas says. "The ocean. Filling my lungs and…" 

Eliott doesn't know what to say. He sighs, debating whether he should reach out and place his hand on Lucas's shoulder. But Lucas turns and looks at him again, his face tired, reassuring him that he doesn't need Eliott to say anything at all.

Lucas's lips are chapped, Eliott notices. Pink as can be, but cracking. Eliott remembers all the times he kissed those lips, all the times those lips formed the words that his heart and mind needed more than anything. He imagines those lips kissing Chloé, kissing a bottle or a glass—

"Your maman told me about the drinking," Eliott blurts, the image too strong in his mind to simply ignore it.

Lucas's hands open completely, the sand falling with a dull thud. His head snaps towards Eliott's direction, his eyes wide but never meeting Eliott's. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his eyelids falling slightly as he nods. "I hated it, but it made me forget everything for a few hours. And it was easier to kiss girls when I could barely tell they were girls." 

"But you stopped because of Chloé," Eliott replies. "Right?"

"Technically yes, but not really in the way you'd think," Lucas shrugs as he trails off. "She made sure I never went to pubs or parties. She made sure we went places where it was hard for me to get a drink. I'm glad she did, don't get me wrong. God knows, I could be dead right now if she didn't. But she wasn't as good of a distraction as the drinks were. I just latched onto the fact that she probably saved my life, and how can I not love someone who's done that for me? What kind of heartless… thing would I be if I didn't?"

Eliott bites his tongue as the only logical question he could come up with appears at the back of his mind. You really loved me, right? He knows the answer, but the doubt and discouragement in Lucas's voice makes him second-guess, if only for a moment. 

"You're not heartless," Eliott says instead, choosing comfort over query. "Your heart just doesn't belong to her."

Lucas shakes his head. "It can't." 

Eliott nods, almost hesitantly. "It can't."

"You don't have to be afraid to talk about her, Eliott," Lucas sighs, pity written in his voice. "Or the way I am. Sometimes I feel like you're more afraid of everything than I am." 

Eliott is speechless. "L-Lucas, what—"

"I think we need to stop dancing around what happened to us. What we are," Lucas continues when Eliott trails off. "We're queers. I drowned, and I was dead. You tried to kill yourself. You have manic depressive disorder. There's words we can use, Eliott, and I think it's time we start using them." 

Eliott nods weakly, slightly overwhelmed by Lucas's sudden conviction. 

Lucas sighs deeply, composing himself. "I'm sorry if I sound harsh, but… I've been thinking a lot since Sunday, since my appointment with Dr. Garnier… There's a reason you were able to save me that day, Eliott."

Eliott can't fight the smile that appears on his face. "And there's a reason you were able to save me that night."

Lucas smiles, his eyes brightening as he nods. "Yeah. There's a reason we're both alive right now. I don't know what the reason is, but maybe we could spend some time looking for it."

"How will we?" Eliott asks, trying to sound brave. But Lucas is right. He is afraid.

Lucas chuckles, shaking his head. "Where do I begin," Eliott hears him mutter. He looks up, speaking louder now. "I have some things to tell you first."

Eliott shifts uncomfortably, nodding. "Okay."

"I talked to Chloé," Lucas begins. "I told her that I'm queer."

Eliott's eyes widen. "Oh," he replies dumbly.

"And I told her that I'm still in love with you."

Eliott feels pink creep along his cheekbones, reaching the tips of his ears. "Oh." 

Warm blossoms bloom on Lucas's cheeks, too, but he somehow manages to make them wilt and disappear. "Eliott, she was relieved."

Eliott's jaw drops now. "What do you mean?"

"She's a queer, too," Lucas replies, disbelief and amusement mingling strangely in his voice. "Chloé is queer, like us. She's in love with her best friend, Maria."

Eliott laughs, too, clumsily. "So?"

"We've called off the engagement," Lucas sighs in relief, gathering more sand in his hands. 

"Have you told your maman?" Eliott asks cautiously.

Lucas's shoulders tense; barely, but enough for Eliott to notice. "Not yet," he answers quietly as his shoulders relax. "I thought about just telling her that Chloé is queer, but that'd be terrible of me. I don't know if I'm ready to tell her the truth." 

"It's okay if you aren't," Eliott reassures him, digging his hands in the sand next to Lucas's. 

"I know," Lucas shrugs, smiling sadly. "I don't want to live the rest of my life without telling her. I know I would regret it." He glances at Eliott, then, silently asking for confirmation.

Eliott nods, unable to admit out loud that not coming out to his father is quite possibly the biggest regret he'll ever have. His throat is starting to swell with tears again. 

"She won't be here forever," Lucas says quietly, trying to knit his fingers to where no sand would slip through them. "No matter how much I beg God that she will." 

Eliott reaches, cupping his hands beneath Lucas's to catch any falling sand. Only a small trickle escapes, but it lands warm and soft onto Eliott's waiting palms. He's careful to keep them directly beneath the stream, refusing to let a single grain touch the ground. 

He looks over at Lucas when he feels his eyes on him, his breath catching. There are tears in Lucas's eyes, but they aren't a puddle pooling at his lashline. They're like stars scattered in the night sky; freckles of light set randomly yet perfectly in place. 

"Thank you," Lucas whispers, as if the words were sealing his final breath. 

Gravity rubs circles into Eliott's back, gently pushing him forward. Eliott lets himself fall, feeling heat rise and bloom like a heartbeat as he draws closer and closer to Lucas. He only resists the pull when their lips aren't even a breath apart.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice a note away from silence.

"Yes," Lucas responds, his own voice breaking. "Please." 

Eliott tilts his head until his lips fit perfectly against Lucas's. In that moment, the entire world and every parallel universe fell back into place. It feels like it all had been standing still until now. It's all moving again now, dancing in its natural rhythm as the kiss deepens, broadens. 

Both their hands fall open and spill the sand they were holding as they suddenly remember the path they're supposed to be on—weaving through Eliott's hair, standing steady at the curve of Lucas's neck. How could they ever have gotten lost? How could they have ever forgotten the places that were made for them?

Eliott's hands say, forgive me, as they find Lucas's heartbeat. Lucas's hands reply as they kiss Eliott's scalp, there's nothing to forgive, now that we've found each other again. 

Eliott remembers him and Lucas's very first kiss feeling like coming home. But after two years, after everything that's happened, Eliott is realizing that first kiss was finding home. The exhilaration and peace of finally having a place you know belongs to you. Finding home comes with tears of joy, breathlessness. This kiss, the one he wishes will never end, was coming home. A sigh of relief, a calming of the heart. You walk through the door and the smell you've become blind to comes rushing back, and that name of home is the only way you can describe it. Everything is the same, exactly how you left it. Safety, familiarity—something bigger, stronger than belonging. Home is everything you can't name but know better than the back of your hand. Kissing Lucas is home. 

Lucas must have come to the same conclusion, because the kiss becomes a mess of lip-splitting smiles and knocking teeth. Eliott has never had a kiss like this, and he prays that every time he kisses Lucas from now on he'll have that exact same thought. 

Eliott's lips feel weightless, slightly numb when Lucas pulls away to laugh, but feeling explodes in his chest, bubbles in his stomach. He laughs along with Lucas, their music more beautiful and rich than the crashing of the waves could ever be. 

They kiss again, but in bursts. Their lips touch, then break apart, touch, break apart. The brief moments where their lips are pressed together are more relieving than the only slightly longer moments of fresh, salty sea air. Soon, the kisses last longer as their laughter dies in their chests, replaced with fuzzy, addicting warmth. They kiss until they need to stop for breath, still never pulling too far away from each other, never quite opening their eyes. 

When Eliott finally does open his eyes, the sun has become a golden, crescent moon upon the lip of the sea. The first shadows of night are beginning to touch Lucas and Eliott, bringing the slightest bites of cold with them. Lucas shivers, his eyelids fluttering, his lip trembling. 

Eliott pulls him into his embrace, letting his eyes close again. All he wants is to stay here. The world could end just beyond his eyelids and he wouldn't bother to notice. But then again, the world has shrunk into the Lucas-shaped mass quaking in his arms, and he wasn't going to let anyone touch it. 

Eliott's heart finally bursts when he hears Lucas whisper, "I missed loving you."

#ttmc #skam france #elu #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury #hush bailey #my writing

[imaginaryparisienne]

It was very dark November day. All the lights disappeared from the air. In the subway people squeezed me like half empty toothpaste tube and it was exactly how I felt that day – empty and unneeded.

“Hey, lady, just smile!” – somebody cried out for me when I walked into Starbucks, dreaming only about large coffee with lot of sugar to wake me up. Oh man, smiling never has been my keen. I’m from Eastern Europe. People don’t smile without reason there. Smiling is privilege, reserved to special occasion, right? I stuck to it. Working as a make-up artist I learned to talk to people. I discuss with myself because they can’t answer me back – having their faces blocked under layers of makeup, not letting to open their mouth or eyes. Mostly I just babble about nothing, but sometimes memories hit my brain and I opened my soul up, saying out loud the weirdest story from my childhood. Like funeral of guinea pig on the meadow. Me and my best friend Dominika holding hands in the circle of other kids standing around the small shoe box - the modest coffin. Dandelion crowns on our bright hair. Dominika’s pouty lips, teary eyes, skinny knees with several scabs. Our solemn look. Me, always so serious, so conscious, even as a child.

When I walked out on the street, holding my coffee, it was started to rain. Not having the umbrella I had to hide under the trees. “What a gloomy day” – I rumbled to myself, when unexpectedly my phone rang. It was Katie aka Katinka. She worked in local newspaper as an assistant of photographer, we met each other during our English classes for emigrants, couple years ago. Lonely, naive and despaired I struggled with reality, being an open aim to all these cruel guys who just used me and never called back. Katie was my only light in a dark when things went wrong here. Always ready to giving kudos. I could ring her in the middle of the night and she was there for me, listening carefully and bring my sanity back. Now it was her to ask for help.

“Hi, dear, I need to have makeup done immediately”, she said directly. I heard desperation in her voice. “Some famous actor will be here in couples of minutes and Meggie had problems again, fuck, I can’t with her, what am I supposed to do right now? You are my only hope. Please, take a cab and go here. I fought for this photoshoot so hard”. “Who is he actually? – I asked her, throwing the empty paper cup into the bin and hailing a cab. “The young movie celeb, a matinée”, Katie answered, “His name is Timothée Chalamet. Have you heard of him? He is rising star, year or two and he will be too expensive to having him. So the time is now. Are you already in the cab?” “Yeah”, I assured her. “Take it easy. I’ll be there soon”.

We arrived to the studio almost in the same time. Timothée was tall and skinny, with a tousled mop of curly hair and very pale skin. I instantly thought of warm it up, a tone or two. “Just Tim”, he said to me with a smile and shook my hand. Then he sank into the armchair with a sigh. “Need more sleep, sorry” – he murmured, yawning. After checked his deep eye bags I couldn’t agree more. Some work must be done on this delicate angel skin. I took a bobby pin and pin down his mischievous curls, to have forehead uncovered. It surprised me how silky his hair was, my fingers wandered way to long through it.

He closed his beautiful green eyes. Long eyelashes put a shadow on his cheeks. Before I arrived to the studio I googled him and found out that people Photoshopped his pictures into the classic art. I thought then it was funny, but now I was sure he IS just a real piece of art. How even a man can have such a rosy lips, I thought. I should use the applicator but I couldn’t help myself and decided to smooth the color by my fingertips. The sensation was overwhelming. It was like to touch a fresh opened marshmallow.

I dripped a drop of liquid make up on my hand palm, waited for a moment to warm it, then smudged it slowly on Tim's skin, in circled movements. I felt his strong bones structures under my fingers, contrasted with velvety skin. Holy fuck he was damn sexy. “You are such a perfect mix of masculine and feminine”. Words escaped me before I even could stop myself. But he just smiled back, so I asked, “Do you mind I put the makeup on you in more girlish way? I mean some color shadow and maybe shimmer lipstick”.

He agreed so I did this. My hands worked vigorously and soon Tim’s eyelids shone like moonlight and his perfectly curved lips become more pinky and glossy. So kissable, I thought and suddenly my mind went to Dominika’s childish lips. A sweltering summer’s afternoon many years ago. We lurked behind the garages, our sweaty bodies rubbing against each other, I tasted the salt on her skin, we licked each other lips not knowing what more we can do. It was like hot hurricane, like desert storm. When we at last felt apart I still had in my mouth a sweet pieces of bubble gum called Donald, which Dominika forgot to spit out before we started to kiss. Never again I felt that way, with any of men who fucked me, no matter how sophisticated things we did in bed. There were nights when I still dreamed about those childhood days of real closeness, tender and mild.

“So go for it.” Tim suddenly opened his eyes, looked directly into me. Have I said it aloud? Oh my God. I shook my head with a shame. “You described it so beautifully. You long for it. Why are you fooling yourself? Look at what you have done in my case.” He looked at the mirror, glancing his face. “You almost transform me into beautify gal, and I appreciate it, love it, because why not? But do you know what it means to you, what it show about you, hmm?

I gasped the air not being able to say a word. This beautiful creature sitting here said it out loud all my secret thoughts and call my childhood dreams. How this young guy could be so perceptive? “But how did you guess it so perfectly?” – I blurted out still astonished. Some shadow flitted across his face. It was a brief moment but I noticed. “Cause I feel the same?” – he murmured and closed his eyes again, lying back to the armchair.

We didn’t talk anymore. I worked quickly, giving my best. The photo session turned to success. Many other magazines commented it as another proof that Chalamet is brave new world softboi icon, who has courage to live up to whoever he want to be.

It has been almost a year since our met up. Sometimes, cuddling with Katinka in our bed, listening to the sound of raindrops pouring down the New York street I think about that rosy lips boy. No doubtfully he helped me find my own voice, but is he already find it for himself?

#that make-up and feminine clothes are also my dreams #i wrote something before #longing for things like that #fanfiction #timothee chalamet

[wiggly-blue-shite]

Chapter 5! The Bell Doesn’t Dismiss You!

Biology! I really do love this class. Well the AP Bio teacher is super cool and everything makes sense to me. I love this class!

"Hey Henry!" Oh it's him. Chad Stevenson. Star quarterback, straight A student, ASB Vice President. Not only is he a senior, he is also tragically straight, not that he'd be into me. But oh wow those pearly whites.

"Oh hey Chad what's up!" I only see him this period. We're not close but he was my lab partner once! He's so far out of my league I don't even get nervous around him.

"Not much man. Good to see you." He is a practically perfect specimen. It's ridiculous. No human should be like that.

"I don't think I saw you a Sam's party yesterday?"

"I wouldn't be caught dead in that jack offs house." Chad chuckled a little. He fucking looks like Clark Kent it's ridiculous. I chuckle a little too.

The late bell rings and he walks over to his seat. He didn't mention the makeup... huh.

I redirect my attention to the class at hand. I take close notes. Wow I love this class.

I start walking to my next class. AP English language, also a pretty fun class. It's a lot of reading and writing, two of my best activities, other than acting, and science, and music, and probably more things.

You can clearly see those who are hungover. I have a few different species of hungover:

• The absent, which are just the students who didn't come to school today or skip certain classes.

• The basic, which tend to be the white bitch. They put on too much makeup to compensate. It also looks fucking terrible.

• The pissed off, aka Emma. Just bitchy. All the time. Enough said.

• The in denial, they act like everything is normal even though they are visibly suffering.

Etc. my studies will be continued.

I spot Ted from across the courtyard. I don't know what it is about him. Maybe it's the fact that he seems like a human being compared to Chad. I can't help but to smile a little when I see him. I have the peculiar urge to get to know him better. I don't know what it is.

He turns his head, I think he spots me staring at him. He smiles and waves at me. My heart skips a beat. He didn't look away.

I wave back. W don't stop to talk to each other. Passing period isn't long enough.

I get to English and sit down in my seat. I wave at Zoey who sits across from me. I don't hate her like some people do. She's kind of bitchy and annoying. She's also a total fucking diva. But Norah is her best friend, and Norah is my theatre club running mate. I basically only tolerate Zoey because of theatre. I don't want to think about her though.

So I grab the writing assignment we are supposed to work on today and focus on that.

He didn't look away.

Ah no. Writing assignment. Uhh symbolism in King Lear. Oh Jesus Christ. I love this class but why?

He smiled at you. His cute little crooked smile. How could I get to know him better?

No! King Lear symbolism!

Maybe Emma and I could sit at Ted and Paul's table at lunch. Since Emma and Paul are basically dating it wouldn't be weird. Right?

I pull out my phone and hide it so my teacher can't see it. I text Emma.

Henry: Lets sit with Paul today!

She responds immediately. I think she has a free period or a easy elective right now.

Emma: Why

Henry: So you don't want to hang out with Paul?

Emma: No I do but you don't

The teacher walks by and I slide my phone under my thigh. Yes I am paying full attention to the symbolism of King Lear. Jesus Christ.

He goes back to his desk and I pull my phone out.

Emma: Is it Ted? ;)

Henry: What does it matter?

Emma: We can sit with them today ;)

Smug bitch.

I slide my phone back into my pocket.

Alright King Lear symbolism! Really a riveting topic.

I meet up with Emma outside the cafeteria. The lunch line is more tolerable with a friend.

"So Ted?" I fucking knew it.

"Shut up." She already knows I consider him attractive. But I don't know. I want to get to know him I guess.

"This is the first real crush in a while." Emma grabs a tray.

"Ok who said anything about a crush." I just want to get to know him better. He seems like a cool person.

"You haven't asked to sit with a boy before. Sure there's been a few 'let's sit with Norah and Zoey' s but this is like a boy." Oh Jesus Christ.

"I just want to get to know him." We get to the lunch counter. "A yogurt." I smile at the lunch lady handing her my lunch money. She smiles back and hands me basically a parfait. I don't think they're allowed to call it a parfait because those are deserts. But what else would you call fruit in granola layered in yogurt? Well it's the only thing remotely edible that they serve here. I grab a little bag of baby carrots and an apple juice.

"A chicken sandwich." Emma hands the lunch lady her money and is returned with basically just a chicken nugget in two pieces of bread. How are they allowed to serve this? "Get to know him? Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?"

Jesus fucking Christ.

We head away from the counter to the rest of the cafeteria. I don't see paul or Ted. Come to think of it I don't think they eat in the cafeteria.

"Where do they eat lunch?" I still scan the cafeteria.

"Outside near the English building." I didn't even know there was a place to eat over there.

Once we get there I see there isn't a play to eat. They are sitting under a tree using backpacks as tables sitting on jackets. Weird.

Paul, Bill, Ted, and Charlotte are there. Ted looks surprised to see us. Wait did they know we where coming? It's rude just to show up. I don't want to be rude. My heart rate increases.

"Hi Emma!" Paul calls out cheerfully. It's almost as if I don't exist.

Emma sits next to paul. But there's not much space between Emma and the tree so I can't sit next to her. I don't know where it's ok for me to see. I don't know these dynamics. This was a bad idea.

Bill pats the ground in between him and Ted, signaling me to sit there. So I plop down there. I didn't bring a jacket so I have nothing to sit on, but that's fun.

"Damn if I knew you were gonna be here I would have brought an extra jacket." Ted's voice is warm. I could melt. No one talks about his compassion.

"No it's fine." I really don't care that much. It's nothing.

"I love your makeup." Charlotte speaks up. To be honest I have not heard her speak in a very long time. I think she's on color guard or something like that, I have no idea. I just know she's wrapped around Sam's little finger, but that's common knowledge.

"Thanks!" I really expected more people to hate it.

"I could never rock an outfit like that." Ted leans back a little bit. I can feel his eyes on me. He's watching me. I can feel blood rush to my cheeks.

"Sure you could!" I would love to see that... I mean nothing.

"Wow I can't even imagine Ted in full makeup." Bill laughs. Everyone chuckles a little.

"I'm sure Henry would love to do your makeup." Emma had her evil little smile. I put myself in this situation.

"Sure I'm down." Ted shrugged. Oh great. Well I be would be spending time with him.

"Yeah ok." What am I going to say no?

"Yay!" Emma claps a little. She's more excited for this than me and ted are.

"Hey any word on the school play?" This is the first time I've seen Paul show any interest in our schools theatre program. Emma says he doesn't really like musicals which is preposterous.

"Nope. I think we're just going to be left in the dark until the week of the audition." I'm 80% sure only Emma knows what I'm talking about, but that's fine. "It's not going to be a Shakespeare show, because we did Shakespeare in the fall."

"Does that mean it's going to be a musical? There is distain in Paul's voice.

"Probably." I shrug. I love musicals but it's not like we're going to get the rights to any really cool shows. We don't have the budget.

Paul groans. No one is forcing him to see the show. I don't want him there anyways. He won't appreciate it.

"Well I'm excited for it." Bill pats me on the shoulder. I've seen him in the audience of a couple shows. I'm convinced he just goes to every school function.

"Thanks!" I smile at him.

"Those shows always look like so much fun." Ted stares off retrospectively at the tree. He's correct, they always are super fun. Even if you have diva bitch Zoey there. I didn't know that Ted went to the shows. Oh wow that means he has seen me in some... interesting roles. Oh Jesus Christ he's seen me play Mrs. Bumbrake.

"You should audition." Why did I say that? Bad idea. No no no. "I mean you don't have to, we don't even know what the show is yet. But it is really a fun experience regardless of show. Though it is baseball season, and I know you're on the baseball team. Splitting time between the show and sports might be stressful." I can feel myself rambling, so I shut up.

"Oh shit I totally forgot about baseball." He takes a deep breath, "if I'm being honest I might quit baseball." Everyone sits in quiet for a second, paul looks stunned. "The coach is a dick, he-who-shall-not-be-named is on the team now, and I don't even enjoy it that much."

The silence is unbearable. I prompted this. Well I need to fix it somehow.

"Well there's alway seats open in theatre club." Jesus Christ I am a fucking dumbass.

"I do not belong on stage." Ted chuckles a little breaking some of the tension, "Charlotte knows what I'm talking about, my singing voice is awful." Charlotte giggles a little. I didn't realize they spent time together. I thought she was always at Sam's side.

"You don't have to sing. There's other aspects of theatre, y'know." He probably doesn't know if I'm being completely honest. I don't blame him though. They do not focus on arts education at this school.

"You could be a techie!" Emma gasps. That's actually a good idea. We could use people with more upper body strength on curtains or spot. I would do it, but the spot is on me.

"I don't even know what that is." Ted chuckles again. He has an adorable laugh. Oh and if he was techie I would get to see him all the time.

"You basically work backstage." It's more complicated than that but he doesn't need the whole spiel yet. "The show hasn't even been announced yet so there's not really any desperate need for techies. But I- We'd be so happy to have you!" I caught myself just in time. I see the gleam in Emma's eye. She knows what I almost said.

"I mean if I end up quitting, I'll have nothing better to do." Ted shrugs. Did that work? Is he actually considering it. Am I fucking dreaming? what's happening?

Then the bell rings. Paul and Emma walk off without so much as a goodbye. Charlotte and Bill at least wave goodbye. And I'm left there with Ted. My next class is theatre. I could bring up Ted teching to Mrs. Murray.

"Hey, if you'd like I can talk to Mrs. Murray about it." I try to be nonchalant, even though the thought of Ted being around the theater all the time freaks me out.

"Well I need to quit baseball first." Ted pats my shoulder, I can't help but to tense up. "I'm looking forward to the makeover, see you later." And with that he walks away.

"Bye!" I call out after him. Did that sound desperate? It felt kind of clingy. God damnit I'm pathetic.

Oh shit. I'm going to be late to theatre.

#tgwdlm #tedgens #the bell doesnt dismiss you #fanfic

[belizedeservesbetter]

Rock of Ages is Hadestown

I don’t really know if this is a review or my upcoming college thesis 

I’ve always loved Rock of Ages. It’s so fun. It’s so dumb. But it’s also so smart. Rock of Ages knows exactly who Rock of Ages is and should be. Rock of Ages is exactly what Rock of Ages wants to be. It’s a blast and the songs are of course good and it’s funny and full of heart and there’s actually some really wonderful theatrical moments and I’m thrilled that it’s back at New World Stages for the summer. But as I sat there watching the show on Thursday, I realized something. 

Rock of Ages is Hadestown. 

The plot is literally the same. Young musician working in a restaurant falls in love with a girl who wants more out of life but young musician can’t give her what she wants and eventually sells her soul to the devil. All the while, a fun narrator steps in and out of the plot and a second story of young love and falling out of love occur between the older character. Three women who sing together are also involved. That is a vast oversimplification of both stories but you get my idea. 

Orpheus, then, is Drew. The wannabe musician with a big heart, good intentions but not the smartest or most logical person. Drew, who throughout the show writes a song that will Change Rock and Roll (and in Orpheus’ case, the world). This song that makes their female love interest fall in love with them. In this current production of Rock of Ages, he’s played by CJ Eldred, who looks STRIKINGLY like Reeve Carney, but can actually act. 

tell me that is not Reeve. tell me they are not long lost siblings or at least dopplegangers

Which brings us to Sherrie, aka Eurydice, who has blown in from nowhere and bumps into Drew/Orpheus and there is an instant connection that is only bolstered by a lovely duet by the Greeks and a shared slushee by the rockers. Sherrie, like Eurydice, is a “hungry young girl” who wants more out of life. Where Eurydice wants... something, I guess, Sherrie wants to be an actress. Kirsten Scott sings the hell out of all her songs and is a sheer delight to watch on stage. Sherrie and Drew have a good thing going until Drew mentions just how good of friends they are. 

Am I equating Orpheus’ inability to do anything but write his “La La La” song with a nervous Drew accidentally telling Sherrie they’re just friends? Yes. Yes and the scene it happens in the show is hilarious. There’s this wooden car set that Drew brings on and off that is SO cheesy and SO hilarious and they all know it too. There’s even a part where Drew mimes opening and closing the car door even though there is no door that was Comedy Gold. 

Which brings us to Hades, aka Stacee Jaxx. Where Eurydice sells her soul to Hades and goes way down to Hadestown, Sherrie sleeps with Stacee, who then gets her fired and puts a rift between her and Drew. Stacee Jaxx is as gross and sleazy as they come, and PJ Griffith (whose bio on the website is fun) works every second of it. His story ends with Sherrie breaking his nose before he has to flee the country. Where Hades is revealed to Have a Heart, Stacee is kicked to the curb, which I liked. I liked that the Big RockStar ends the show with nothing and no one. 

The Hermes of Rock of Ages is Lonny, who is both the narrator of the show and a character who influences the plot. “Just Like Paradise/Nothin’ But a Good Time” is literally Road to Hell and all the characters and themes are introduced right from the start. Lonny steps in to narrate quite a bit, going so far as to interrupt Drew’s train of thought towards the end of the show which leads to this funny “You’re in a musical called Rock of Ages and it used to be on Broadway and now it’s not and they made a movie out of it” moment which was absolutely on the nose but they KNEW it was on the nose and worked with it. Mitchell Jarvis, who created the role of Lonny, is back in this current Off-Broadway production and he is spectacular. You can tell he loves everything about this role and this show and he is having a fantastic time and you the audience are having a fantastic time with him. 

This is where it becomes a bit more of a stretch but bear with me on this so there are three waitresses who also work at The Bourbon Room and while they ominously sing like The Fates, they do pop in to provide Sherrie with some comfort every now and then. They’re also super cool and do some really incredible dancing. The standout waitress, also known as Waitress #1, is Katie Webber and holy shit she’s incredible. She was also in the original cast of the show and you can tell how much she loves it. 

This is even more of a stretch but the characters Dennis and Justice combined make Persephone. Dennis, the owner of The Bourbon Room, talks about Stacee Jaxx with a lot of love and nostalgia, which makes me think he had feelings for him at some point. Considering Dennis ends up with Lonny at the end, I think I could be right in this. This is probably adding layers to Rock of Ages that isn’t there but I think Dennis really loved Stacee and was hurt to see him leave him in the dust like that. Matt Ban plays Dennis currently and gives Dennis a strong “Tired Dad” vibe, which worked well for the character. He also had great chemistry with Mitchell Jarvis.

Justice also gives me big Persephone vibes, especially her moment with Sherrie where she talks about how she was in love once and how she’s not as happy as she used to be. I’ll definitely take “Pour Some Sugar On Me” (and Dennis’ “Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore”) as this show’s “Our Lady of the Underground” and maybe some of her verses in “Chant.” Jeannette Bayardelle was wonderful as Justice. She also had this glitter lipstick that looked like the glitter lips from Priscilla - Queen of the Desert which I love love loved. 

A lot of the themes are the same - with the ones on climate change, the workforce and capitalism being summed up in the Regina (pronounced like vagina)/Hertz plotline about tearing down the Sunset Strip. Of course the Orpheus/Eurydice themes match up surprisingly well with the Drew/Sherrie ones too. Actually, I think it’s interesting how Rock of Ages goes further in exploring what happens when Drew does get what he wants, like what happens when his songs do get noticed and how it turns out to be not what he wants after all. 

And in this current production, there’s even a Tall Ensemble Man, played by Michael Mahany, who, again, is clearly having a great time. He’s also the sole male ensemble member (not including Mekhai Lee because he plays The Mayor and Drew’s Agent mostly) which makes the big ensemble dance breaks really funny. 

The set is also literally the same as Hadestown, but more rock and roll. There’s literally the stares Hades uses to go up and down from his little patio, but this time they go into Dennis office. To be quite honest, I fully expect the inevitable Hadestown revival in the far off future to be staged in a rock and roll bar/club like The Bourbon Room. It fits the story perfectly.

The big difference is that Rock of Ages ends happily. Drew and Sherrie actually get to live happily ever after, which Orpheus and Eurydice don’t get to do. 

There is so much I love about Rock of Ages. It’s an absolute blast. I love seeing it because it’s sheer escapism. There’s nothing I have to think too hard on and it’s not a show that tries to be that either. I love how you can tell what songs they only got partial rights to, like the split second moment where Stacee sings Styx’s “Renegade.” I love how much fun everyone is having, especially Tall Ensemble Man. I love that the ending is absolutely ridiculous and Dennis is briefly mentioned to have died, but he comes back as an Angel that gets rid of Stacee Jaxx. I love that Lonny tells Drew to fuck the book writers of the musical. And I love that Rock of Ages has its flaws and problematic jokes, cause it keeps me humble. It reminds me that I’m seeing Rock of Ages and not a Serious Show. I love how much fun and how drunk the audience is for this show. I love that this is the closest thing to Straight Culture I’m ever gonna see, which is fascinating to say the least. I love the merchandise the show has! You can get Wolfgang Von Colt (Drew’s stage name) t-shirts that look like Drew made them himself. I love that you can buy Arsenal (Stacee Jaxx’s band) sweatshirts that look like Stacee designed them himself. I love that the band is onstage the entire time and I love that they are Arsenal and are constantly flipping off Stacee. 

Also! We don’t give enough credit to director Kristin Hanggi! Why do we always forget about her when we talk about female directors? She's been with this show right from the start! She’s infused this show with so much satire. It’s really a lot more progressive than you’d think. 

And this show is so fun. It’s so so fun. I understand why there’s die hard Rock of Ages fans who’ve seen this show hundreds of times. 

Go check out Rock of Ages at New World Stages till the end of summer! New World Stages has actually become a great spot for post-Broadway shows, like Jersey Boys and Play That Goes Wrong. There’s also Puffs, which I liked even though I’m a little traumatized from it. And there’s also Gazillion Bubble Show, if you’re into that. 

#rock of ages #review #broadway #off-broadway #i will die on this hill i love this show #voice

[firebirdsdaughter]

Okay, so...

... Now that I have a clearer Raw I can pause...

LONG POST

Ryusoulger Episode 1 reactions! Aka, the episode that decided to come for my life.

In no particular order:

Okay, so maybe it’s a little ‘hm’ that Kou pilots the mech entirely on his own. But it’s not the first time anyone has piloted a mech alone--including non-Ranger allies. The first person who springs to mind is Commander Aya from Jetman. In GoGo V, the robot assistant Mint piloted the robot alone once. And besides, it’s only the first episode. We’ve got plenty of time for the others to get in there.

I’ll be honest. I knew the Masters were probably going to die. At the very least, I knew something bad was going to happen to them.

What I was NOT expecting was THAT.

Ryusoulger scores one for on-screen death and incineration.

First fight of the new Robo Suit Actor (I feel so bad I forget his name). Thank you for your service Kusaka Hideaki, I wish you all the best.

But let’s go back to the beginning!

Dramatic ceremony that apparently no one else is around to witness.

Wait, so if Mynasouls/Minusouls are already being made/Druidon already showing up, and just have never reached the tribe before... Does that mean Touwa and Banba have just been doing a really bang up job of fighting them off? I mean, I expect the stakes are raising sharply now, but... Could cause tension in the team if there’s a ‘the only reason you guys had a peaceful life for so long was us’ sort of thing.

Also, Kou having a little bit of prankster in him is super cute. Are you and Touwa going to get into prank wars that drive the others nuts?

Random fact I didn’t notice before? In the opening, when the others are flying all over the place and Banba is just sleeping? He’s holding two RyusoulKen. The boy is freaking holding his brother’s sword for him, that’s so cute.

I’ll see if I can’t use this video to get a shot of the pendant looking like it’s changing colours and put it at the bottom, okay?

It has since come to my attention by rewatching this that Mystery Scarf Person is standing next to a torch that looks similar to the ones used in the ceremony scene this episode, which could indicate that he is Gold. Or... Related to the tribe, at the very least.

But the most important question to ask as to whether he’s Gold... Does he has Chainsaw?

I am never going to get over that chainsaw thing.

Also looks like we may have Druidon we haven’t seen yet, which doesn’t surprise me. Tank dude is clearly going to be Kou’s rival, but maybe one of the other Druidon was responsible for what happened to Banba and/or Touwa’s Master? (assuming Touwa had one and wasn’t solely trained by his brother)

I’m loving that little shot where it’s Ui sitting alone and then the others come over to her and it looks like they’re encouraging her (well, Banba just stands in the back bc he’s a grump but also solidarity) and then they all look at the sky. I live for the implications that there’s going to be a theme of companionship in this series bc I LOVE FRIENDSHIP. I LOVE FOUND FAMILY. And given how they trio (and possibly the brothers, too) lost people so important to them at the start, I think they’re all gonna need it.

I like them cutting the logo free. I also like the way it looks like stained glass for a hot second before becoming the usual red and yellow.

Sentai mooks continue to be distracted by pretty lights and it remains their downfall.

Kou! Don’t break the camera!

Dan seems pretty fussed that Druidon showed up. But... If he knew that the other two had gone to fight them, shouldn’t he already know that?

Hey, look! There’re other people!

Aw! Kou is trying to be comforting!

And... Gets shoved into the mountain. I love these three.

Oh my gosh, he tries to tackle Ui, but she just bops away, I love her.

Well, we’ve found the source of the bananas.

I love Melt hiding the banana behind his back like it’s incriminating evidence...

I think Kou is looking to the other two for help here and they just abandon him. God, he’s so adorable, though, I just wanna pinch his cheeks.

Also that fraction of a  second ‘I got myself into this’ face right before the cut to commercial. XD

WHY DOES HE HAVE A HAMMER? WHAT DOES THE HAMMER SAY?

The Masters are on a nature walk!

No, I’m kidding, they’re probably on patrol or something. But it looks like they’re on a nature walk.

Wouldn’t it be funny of one of the other Masters, if they exist, was played by the Ichimonji of the KR NEXT films? Is he even still acting?

Not the ankles!

Do the Masters have other names?

Why does Tank dude being in the temple cancel their transformations?

What I love about this fight is that Master Red and Kou are clearly worried about each other. Red yells for Kou when he’s thrown, and Kou tries to protect his mentor. It’s cute!

Until tragedy strikes.

Is Kou ever gonna be able to hear ‘Tata Soul’ again w/out thinking of this?

God... It was a gut punch when Red got hit by those slashes, but I was not expecting Pink and Blue to get fire breathed.

Also, yeah, there were better ways to do that, but that’s always true w/ diving saves. Maybe they didn’t thank they could pull them out of the way in time?

The complete silence was a good choice. IS this the same director responsible for that scene in Build where Misora tells the others Kazumi is dead? Bc this reminded me of that. If so... Man, you do ‘characters losing someone indescribably important to them’ very well.

I’m still not entirely convinced we’ve seen the last of them. Maybe only in flashbacks or as spirits, but you’re telling me you hired Sailor Moon, Tuxedo Mask/Kamen Rider Ibuki, and even an alternate version of Hongo Takeshi/some other dude from Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (?) to kill them off in one episode? After those press announcements? Maybe they were trying to cover up what was gonna happen, but I’m not convinced. I mean, maybe their previous parts aren’t that big a deal, but it really seems like the went for a bit of name-recognition there... Are they gonna throw that away after one ep?

I will not deny I was emotionally encouraging Kou to get up and kick Tank dude’s ass right there. You can do it, sweetie!

Tank dude gives a speech while Mushroom creature is greatly distressed in the background.

See above for my feelings regarding Kou piloting the mech alone here.

Also the first time I watched I wasn’t thinking about that I was too busy crying.

Also I guess Tyramigo does talk, but... He seems fairly... Well, he doesn’t talk much. He’s got, like, two lines. I’d kind of like a serious, more ‘stern’ red rex. Hmm... Maybe the personalities of the Kishiryu reflect the predecessors’?

So here’s the jam. Doe you predecessor have to die for you to be the ‘true’ inheritor of the RyuSouls? Did Elder know this? If so... You dickwad.

Kou giving Tyramigo pets on the nose was super cute. I think I would kill for Tyramigo.

Also pretty sure I would kill for Kou, he’s very cute and now I love this actor.

Still very distracted by the way the Elder’s wig does not match his beard. What the hell, costuming?

So here’s my question. Do the special coloured Souls absorb the souls of the Ryusoulgers who die while tied to them? Are gonna have an ep where the team have to go ‘inside’ them or, like, summon the souls out of them, AtLA style? Are we gonna meet the original Ryusoulgers at some point?

Okay, but... The Elder uses the word ‘nakama’ when telling the trio about Touwa and Banba? At least, I think he does... Doesn’t that usually have ‘friendly’ connotations? Makes it seem like the two are less straight up ‘deserters’ and just... I dunno, went through the apparently necessary rite of passage of having your mentor/predecessor die before the others and were allowed to leave? I’m confused.

I don’t know why we needed to transform here, but I love the dancing mechs.

Also they did do a ‘three swords’ version of the ‘swords of justice’ thing. I am literally going to start crying--for very different reasons than this time--the first time all five of them do it together.

Still sad I didn’t get to see my boys in the preview, but at least I know they’re coming soon.

Also still can’t get a read on whether we’ll be hiding our identities this season. I kind of like it when they do do that, it adds another layer of tension to things, but it’s fine if they don’t, too.

Looks like Pink is gonna be yeeting her boys.

I’m liking this so far and I can’t wait for all my children to get together.

On the ED: I live for the dancing mechs. I could spend hours analysing everyone’s reaction to the cartoon Soul meteors. That was adorable. Still don’t know why Banba has different dance choreography, but it’s cute.

Digital french toast and pancakes for anyone who read all that.

All in all, I’m enjoying myself. I don’t usually cry at shows, but I just... I wasn’t expecting it to go that far. This is someone who directed some of Build, I suppose. I think we’re in for more agony.

And I love it. XD

Okay, so... (Ignore my boys screaming in the background please--not the most flattering picture of Banba I know, but leave him alone he’s sad DX)

So... It’s definitely just the way it disappears, but... The other three colour don’t do that? So either it was just a style choice bc there’s only two colours on this side and three on the other and I’m overanalysing, or...

Also. I. I just noticed the water bubbles. Or are those meant to be tears.

WHAT DOES ANY OF THIS MEAN BUILD MAN?

#Kishiryu Sentai Ryusoulger #Ryusoulger Spoilers #my precious Dino Children #wow what an opening #well I'm excited #ready to see where this goes #hope it keeps tearing my heart apart actually #I don't usually cry at tv shows #and I was expecting MOH (Mentor Occupational Hazard) #but... #I was not expecting it to be that rough #oof #... #...... #......... #GIVE ME MORE #Birthday Sentai #Dino Dragon Knights And Their Cat #Long Post

[pastelninjaimagines]

★☆♡♥♦ൠ for my boys Shino and Sai? Maybe Gaara and Hinata too? Sorry if this is alot

Shino 

★ - sad headcanon

When Shino’s upset he doesn’t show it. He internalizes it and anyone looking would just assume he’s his normal stoic self. He’s definitely a bit broody and when he’s sad he’d prefer to be alone. 

☆ - happy headcanon

Shino is happiest when, you guessed it, he’s surrounded by his insects. One of his favorite things to do is categorize them. Literally nothing makes him happier than spending his time doing that. He even names them. Like he remembers every single one. Idk how but it just makes him to happy to do it. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

He’s clueless when it comes to romance. Doesn’t know a thing about it. What is flirting? Shino doesn’t know. He’s awkward and would rather just stay silent than talk to his crush. He’d have to swallow his pride and ask Kiba all these questions, and then question Kiba’s common sense because do you really pretend your yawning to put your arm around your crush Kiba that doesn’t sound right. He’s hopeless. 

♥ - family headcanon

I think Shino would be very close with his father. His father was the one to teach him all about insects and he has fond memories as a child of him and his dad going to search for bugs with his dad watching fondly as Shino ran around with a butterfly net. Shino was a cute kid y’all. And as Shino grew up he stayed very close with his dad, who supports him in everything he does. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

A quirk that Shino has is that every morning before he gets out of bed, he has to count to thirty. It’s his way of bracing himself for the day, especially when he knows he has to deal with a lot of people. He gives himself that thirty seconds of preparation before getting out of bed in the morning. 

ൠ - random headcanon

He can’t stand the cold. At all. So to prevent himself from getting the shivers, he always bundles up, even if it’s like 90 degrees outside this boy is in a jacket, pants, he might even have gloves on and you bet he’ll be wearing layers. It’s unnatural af. 

Sai

★ - sad headcanon

When Sai is sad, it comes from his feelings of emptiness and loneliness. His biggest fear is being left alone and abandoned. When in a group setting, if he feels like he’s not really apart of it, if they are ignoring him (whether subconsciously or they actually are) he just wants to fade into the background and he will leave to be by himself. Sai doesn’t have to put up with that. But he doesn’t really fall into self pity, he’ll shirk it off pretty quick and go back to his smiley self if confronted over why he left. He just doesn’t like feeling that way, like he’s not even there to people. He doesn’t deserve it. 

☆ - happy headcanon

Engaging Sai in conversations about his art makes this boy glow with happiness. He can ramble about his art for hours so please, do it. He will be a blushing, giddy mess if you complement his drawings like wow he’s so cute and appreciative of it. When he’s talking about things that make him happy he’s just so smiley and radiates happiness, like make this boy’s day and let him ramble to you. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

Sai is very by the book when it comes to romance. At first, he never really knew what to do, until he consulted the romance section of his local bookstore. He legitimately takes all of his ideas about romance straight from sappy romance novels. So yes, you will get fancy candlelight dinners, and walks under the moonlight, and rose petals covering the bed, because that’s what Sai is convinced what romance is. 

♥ - family headcanon

Shin was the only family that Sai had ever known. Whenever there was a festival going on in town, Shin would convince Sai to sneak away from wherever Danzo was keeping them and go and enjoy the festival. These were some of Sai’s fondest memories growing up because he and his brother could act like the children they actually were, playing games, eating good food, watching the festivities. Looking back on those memories, they glow with a shiny fondness. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Sai is nothing but quirky. He does this thing where he rehearses full on conversations in the mirror, pretending to be in different situations, filling in what the other person would say, etc. These conversation can go on for a full thirty minutes. Like he’s for real. He also totally practices different facial expressions in the mirror too. He wants to know what he looks like when he’s smiling, laughing, scowling, etc. so that he can make the “perfect expression.” 

One of Sai’s hobbies, besides painting/drawing, is practicing calligraphy. He has super good handwriting and he loves to just sit down and copy different texts into his absolutely beautiful handwriting. He finds it so relaxing and a way to be doing something without much effort. 

ൠ - random headcanon

He loves being amongst nature. Not only does it fuel his creativity, but it makes him feel very peaceful. He’ll wake up early, even on his days off, to go for a morning stroll through a garden or even a wooded area, soaking up the silence and the early morning radiance of the world just waking up. It starts his day off right and when he doesn’t do this in the morning he tends to be grumpier. 

Gaara

★ - sad headcanon

Pls don’t make this cinnamon roll sad. He’s too precious. He’s the type to isolate himself. He also has that single tear aesthetic going on. But he will cut himself off from literally everyone when he’s feeling particularly down. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want any mention of it. He’s an internalizer of his pain and doesn’t want to burden anyone with it. Eventually he’ll work himself out, normally he has to go out in the desert and work out his emotions by himself there. What he does is a mystery to everyone but him. 

☆ - happy headcanon

Gaara loves hugs. Almost nothing makes him happier. He was so touch starved for most of his childhood, that literally any form of physical affection makes him so, so happy like he’s just glowy and smiley for the rest of the day when someone gives him a big hug. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

Gaara is more cutesy than romantic. He loves holding his s/o’s hand, especially when they’re out in public. He also loves kissing their knuckles. He blushes so hard. Also nose kisses. Yes. He’s a cutiepie. 

♥ - family headcanon

So obviously, when Gaara got older he became much closer to his two siblings. He has a very teasing relationship with Konkurow. Like they’re always on each other about one thing or another, but it’s all in good fun. Especially because Konkurow is very protective of Gaara. And so is Temari but in a much more obvious way. She is sort of Gaara’s mother figure, especially because she is the eldest sibling. They have a very good dynamic, Temari’s always reminding Gaara of things he’s forgotten and Gaara always manages to make Temari smile no matter what kind of day she’s having, he always brightens her mood. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Gaara really likes gardening. He’s got an army of succulents and cacti. They litter his office and his bedroom to the point that both Temari and Konkurow have said that he doesn’t have room for more. Gaara ignores this and goes and buys like 20 more to take care of. He’s got an amazing green thumb. He often volunteers in Suna’s greenhouses, and he’s somehow able to tend to plants that even professionals have a difficult time cultivating to make it so the plants are now thriving. It’s a wonder to everyone who works in the greenhouses. They don’t know how he does it. 

ൠ - random headcanon

Gaara is 100% band from entering sand sculpture competitions. It just wouldn’t be fair considering he can bend the sand to any shape with his will. So no participating in sand sculpture competitions for him. But he will be a judge. And he’s very critical, except when he’s judging a kids competition. Then he always gives everyone a solid 8/10 because how could he judge children? They all have such potential. He’s a softy. 

Hinata

★ - sad headcanon

Hinata is a crier. Whenever she’s sad, she tries to get as far away from prying eyes and just let the tears flow. She really can’t help it. She curls up in a ball, holding herself makes her feel better. And after she’s had a good cry, most of the bad feelings have left her, like she’s expelling all of that negativity through her tears. 

☆ - happy headcanon

The littlest kind gestures make Hinata so happy. Oh you held the door open for her, you’ll receive the biggest smile. Oh, you helped her pick up something she dropped, again you are graced by an angelic smile. It just puts her in such a good mood for the rest of the day to witness any good deed being done. 

♡ - romantic headcanon

Hinata is a hopeless romantic. So when she finds herself in situations that she had fantasized about for years, like a cute date, or finally kissing her s/o, she becomes a blushing mess, like as red as a tomato. She becomes so flustered it’s adorable. She also has all these ideas in her head that she herself tries to make happen, but she always ends up “messing up” aka it coming off as perfect and romantic, and then feels bad. Her s/o has to explain that everything she did was perfect and then she becomes a stuttering, blushing mess again. 

♥ - family headcanon

Hinata didn’t always have such a great relationship with her dad, he was very hard on her during her childhood, until he had a change of heart and accepted her for the person she was, not who he wanted her to be. Now he’s extremely doting on her, but a little less protective of her, he lets her do her own thing. But he’s her shoulder to lean on and her comfort always and he loves when Hinata comes to consult with things going on in her life.

Hinata and Hanabi get along very well. Hanabi is also very protective of her big sister, she gets very fierce if she sees anyone disrespecting Hinata in any way. Hinata taught Hanabi how to crochet and they bond over crafting and they are their going out to eat partners. Hinata loves to go clothes shopping with Hanabi and pick out outfits for her little sister to try that the younger girl would never pick for herself. Hinata loves to get Hanabi little gifts whenever she goes shopping alone too. 

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

She love to crochet, and along with that Hinata is very crafty in general. Also she’s great at baking. One of her favorite things to make is chocolates. She makes them in really cute shapes and likes to get creative with them. Her favorite thing is to make things for her friends and loved ones, so you bet for special occasions they are getting knitted sweaters with cute saying stitched on them, long crochet scarves, and homemade chocolates. 

ൠ - random headcanon

Hinata is really good with small animals, like kittens, bunnies, birds, small dogs (though akamaru is the only big dog she is comfortable around). They always just find her and she could pet them for hours and hours. She sometimes takes strays home (to her father’s chagrin) and takes care of them for a while until finding them a good home. 

#sorry some of these were short #but there were a lot of them lol maybe that'll make up for it #shino #shino aburame #shino headcanon #sai #sai naruto #sai headcanon #sai imagine #gaara #sabaku no gaara #gaara of the sand #kazekage gaara #gaara headcanon #gaara imagine #hinata #hinata hyuga #hinata imagine #hinata headcanon #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto imagine #naruto headcanons

[peaches-of-1]

BTS Demon AU: 666 So Fresh- Chapter 7

Chapter Warnings: Drinking an unknown substance

Pairing: Taehyung x Zula (OC) x Yoongi

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Related aesthetics: Character type | Outfits

This would be their first big party since Awakening. Before all that, however, Yoongi saw how dangerous Zula’s uncontrolled powers could be. She could literally suck the air out of the room with her wind-based powers. That’s why the three were standing in the middle of the desert and she was wearing knee and elbow pads.

“You don’t even have my same powers, so how are you going to teach me how to use them?” Zula yelled to Yoongi.

The men were standing a few yards away as not to feel the brunt of her attacks. She was already strong on her own. They saw that when her anger was targeted towards Jungkook. If Yoongi hadn’t put them into Hiding, the car alarms would’ve gone off and brought so much unnecessary attention. Since doing this would ultimately make her even stronger, they didn’t want to be anywhere near the source...aka her.

Yoongi yelled back, “Most powers have similar technique. Strong emotions. Tap into them and see if you can turn your powers on and off.”

Zula looked at her hands and scratched her exposed thigh, her shawl fringe tickling it. “How am I supposed to do that?”

The man shrugged, “I don’t know! They’re your feelings!”

“You’ve got this, jagi!” Tae yelled, sitting on the roof of the car. “I know you can do it! Fighting!”

She giggled and felt a bit lighter, like literally.

“Zuzu, snake!” Yoongi pointed near her feet.

A blast of air left her palm and attacked the bare ground. No snake, but a shallow hole where it would have bin. Her hand was now red and scaly with black talons. It made her jump back out of surprise even as the claws and scales receded into a regular human hand once more.

“My...my hand! It--! What the fuck was that?”

“That’s your true form. Those are also why I grabbed your hands before that Jungkook boy could catch them. Now,” Yoongi told her to think of a strong negative or positive feeling.

Tae did the same as he played with his own hands, imagining some element sprouting from his fingertips. He had so many negative feelings. None of them were strong anymore. As for positive feelings, only one: Her. He loved her. A spark lit between his fingers when he snapped.

Zula felt her feet lift off the ground. This was what she had imagined love to feel like all her life which was odd because that was exactly what feeling she used.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked with a gummy smile at her levitation.

She looked at them, “You guys, how much I love you two despite how short we’ve known each other. It’s different types of love, but still.” She gasped when she saw Taehyung on the car, flame coming out of his fingers. “Wow, Tae!”

He smiled and Yoongi looked back, also surprised. “Fast learners! That’s great! Now, let’s see if you can weaponize it. Both of you, arim for that tree.”

Tae tried hard to aim for the designated tree but couldn’t get more than a five inch flame to escape his grasp. As for Zula, only a hard wave of wind emanated from her body instead of a focused blast like before. Was it because she added pain to the mix of feelings that kept her afloat? Either way, the pulse knocked Taehyung off the car. She flinched as he fell to the ground, making her return to Earth as well.

He laughed and dusted off his mullet. Yoongi decided that was enough training for the day, and  thought it best to start getting ready for Hoseok’s club tonight. They drove home and Zula asked why Tae had two powers, immortality and fire. The full blooded Hell Spawn told her that demons had layers of abilities. There were some that could be honed from an outside source like the elemental aspects. Others could not like his Sight and Tae’s inability to die.

That meant she had another power or a couple of other powers still untapped inside of her. Zula was excited to see what it would be.

Taehyung wore baggy jeans and a large patchwork denim jacket over a white t-shirt. Yoongi pulled on light colored ripped jeans and a yellow dress shirt. He completed the look with a black ribbon tie under the collar. It was a sunny thing to wear, but the bright color fit his mood. He was happy to have these two lost kids around him. Experiencing all sorts of discovery with them warmed his stone heart. He had bleached his hair today as well, the smell still lingering in the bathroom.

Zula wore a pink nightie-like Prada dress with pink feathers on the hem along with sheer pink stockings. She pulled her hair into two cornrows and Tae picked a floral bucket hat to complete his look. He was still shocked sometimes when he saw that lipstick no longer existed on the many mirrors of his home.

Getting into the club was easy since Yoongi seemed to know everyone. Once at the bar, Zula was going to order something normal, but the new blonde wasn’t having any of it. He requested a pink sparkling concoction for the three of them. She eyed it suspiciously.

“C’mon, Zuzu. It even matches your outfit.”

Tae watched as the glitter swirled around the fancy heart shaped glass, “If you try it, I will.”

On the count of three, they all took a sip of the mystery mix. The drink was sweet and almost like soda. It felt like it was bubbling through every vein in their bodies instead of headed straight to the stomach. A sour put pleasant tinge was the aftertaste on their tongues. It wasn’t bad, so they ordered another round.

Soon all of them were on the dance floor, music moving through them like a trance. Zula raged and closed her eyes as she danced between her two boys. Yoongi had a whole bottle of the sparkling pink elixir in his hand and downed it every once in a while. A random girl with short purple hair was her current dance partner.

Their arms held each other close as they giggled like the shy sapphics they were. The girls shared kisses whenever they felt like it. Zula couldn’t remember the last time she had been so flirty with another female. She was cute and a Hell Spawn from Lust’s layer. Her eyes were a twinkling pink. They shared another smooch when a strange pulse suddenly stopped Zula’s movements. Her eyes started to glitter. She could feel it. Zula turned her head and met glowing purple ones that looked at her from across the room.

Zula was intrigued, so she kissed the blue haired demon one last time, “Catch you later, beautiful.” and set her free to dance with anyone else who caught her fancy.

It was like he was calling her without words. He sat on the edge of the stage and combed back his raven black hair with fingers sporting a polish just as dark. Sweat was dripping from every part of his body. Clinging to his hair. Zula stopped centimeters away from his face.

He gave her a smirk and then kissed her hand, “Jimin.”

“Zula.” She responded breathlessly.

Jimin stood and wrapped a hand around her waist, “May I have this dance?”

She nodded and held his hand. Jimin’s face was pretty. There were no human words to describe the beauty his angles held. The two slowly rotated in the pulsing beat. He leaned close to her ear in order to be heard above the ruckus.

He caressed her chin, “You don’t see many Demi Spawn in a place like this without supervision, but I’m glad that I found someone like me to dance with.”

“Someone like you?” She asked.

He chuckled, “Can’t you smell it? The human blood mingled with the beautiful poison of demonic ichor? Take a deep breath.”

Zula inhaled deeply and smelled it, the scent that belonged to her mother. Sweet and kind, innocent but not ignorant. It was the same as her classmates. Her teachers. Everyone she knew growing up. It was mingled with something dark. Purple, rich. The demon side of things. It was slightly familiar but very different than anything she had ever smelled before.

“Wow.” Zula breathed. “I’ve never experienced something like that before. I didn’t know I could do that.”

“Really? How recently were you Awakened?” His voice was beautiful and strong and soft like a song that you learned long ago.

“Four days ago.”

Jimin chuckled, resting his forehead on her shoulder, “I apologize, but that’s amazing. It explains why it was so easy to get you over here, though.”

Zula hummed slightly, “What about you? When did you know you were half of Hell?”

“Since I was born. My mother was beautiful and from Vanity. She took pride in herself as well as her family. Very strict about how we presented ourselves.”

“I’ve just realized this now, but it was my father who was from Lust. I thought it would be my mother. It explains why he had so many ‘friends’ when I was little. Taught me how to dress and how not to take shit from anyone.”

He smiled, “I like you already, Zula. However, since you’re new, I guess you don’t know how to Charm like other Lusties.”

She shook her head, “Nope.”

“Want me to teach you?”

As soon as he said this, Zula’s body started to heat up. She closed her eyes. It almost felt like she was on fire. Her breath got shallow. There was a second when her eyes fluttered open to see a shocked look on Jimin’s face.

“What?” She asked.

“You stopped me.” He smiled. “Your powers are more instinct based. I apologize, but I was trying to feed on you since I thought it’d be easy. I’m really glad I was wrong.”

Zula scoffed and cupped his cheek, “Maybe ask permission next time.”

Jimin shook his head, “There’s no way I’m doing that again. You are too strong.”

She laughed, and he held her tighter. Her stocking covered thigh making contact with his tight leather pants. It was this moment when Zula realized she had no idea where the other boys were.

“I should go. I came here with friends and should get back to them.”

“That you should, but aren't I better than whoever they are?”

“Of course!” Zula said without thinking and then kissed his cheek. “I will come back tomorrow. I hope I can see you again.”

Jimin said that she would and let her go. As Zula left, she suddenly felt like she had snapped out of a trance. She stumbled a bit when she felt her head. Yoongi said Tae had gone to the bathroom but had been gone for a while. The two went to the stalls and called out for him.

He made a noise and the door opened. He appeared to be peeing but was just slowly pouring a bottle of something.

“I’ve been standing here for 10 minutes. It doesn't become empty.”

Zula took the bottle from him and took a few gulps. She then gave the bottle to Yoongi and slammed her lips into Tae who happily accepted the taste of pink lipstick and sweat and cherry chapstick.

“You taste like that girl you were making out with earlier.” He growled between kisses.

Zula smiled and was going to ask Yoongi if he wanted to join, but he was gone. The two continued to make out in the bathroom stall until they passed out on the floor. Yoongi woke them up by nudging them with his boot.

His face had red, blue, and dark red smudges on it. “Hey, love birds, let’s get going. I’m ready to go.”

They nodded and stood. Since they were demons at a demon bar, they wouldn't get hangovers. Taehyung had makeup smeared all over him as well. Scratches as well. Yoongi smiled at them.

“Ah, to be young again.”

#BTS #Bangtan #Min Yoongi #Kim Taehyung #Park Jimin #OC insert #OC Zula #Suga #Agust D #V #BTS V #Jimin #Chapter 7 #BTS fic #Demon AU #Story: 666 So Fresh #Demon!Yoongi #Demon!Taehyung #Demon!Jimin #Demon!OC #BTS fanfic #BTS fan fiction #BTS fan fic

[nyrator]

also I beat Mario Odyssey this morning and by beat I mean the final boss

spoilers under cut of opinions of stuff

so yeah ended up enjoying it more than when I first did once I shook the Hat in Time mechanics from my muscle memory (A Hat in Time is still a game I enjoyed better but this game definitely itches my love of collectathon games)

At just over 600 Moons (which I still call stars), got every star possible before the final boss I believe, then yeah. About 9400 coins by the end, all of which I spent on clothing (I have them all unlocked as well as the Dark and Darker Sides of the Moon, but haven’t been to them yet)

Some worlds were ehh, some were nice, most Moons/Coins I managed to find by myself, but after a point when I only had like a small handful left I’d always look at a guide for the general location (I refused to spend money on Toad for some reason and didn’t realize Amiibo would also do that), a lot of times I was always missing some obvious set of three purple coins somewhere near the beginning/end. Some were obvious, some were downright dirty.

So yeah, bosses were pretty easy (though I did die a bunch due to dumb stuff but yeah, patterns were easy). Was disappointed in the Final Bowser fight being the exact same as the Cloud fight, which was only hard until I realized the timing of the hit-block-dodge-attack thing in the third phase, and going into the final fight with that knowledge made it a joke. For some reason, I did not expect to Capture Bowser (to be fair it was pretty obvious I just don’t think ahead in these kinds of games), that was fun and the music was nice.

The ending was amusing, Mario about to kiss Peach, Bowser gets up and punches him in the face, then they fight on the moon for her affection with flowers, and she just steals Mario’s ship and leaves them both behind (Mario gets on of course but poor Bowser you gotta like Bowser)

Spent all morning just enjoying the Mushroom Kingdom (ALSO SO HAPPY THE SHOP HAD A WALUIGI COSTUME, “It’s barely used!” was a great description, I’m full on Waluigi from now on except for the Moons that require outfits, before that I was Painter’s Hat+Resort outfit)

also I should go back and finish Mario 64 someday, it’s that game I only played at neighbor’s house because no nintendo consoles until GameCube.

things I didn’t like was a lot of the instant death stuff (which mostly is just me needing to get good but still), the minigame second moons (mostly just painful slog but I guess reasonable), and the awkwardness of the controls. I still don’t know how to move around properly without pressing the wrong button (aka usually ground pounding instead of diving/long jumping), and yeah AHiT has got the whole complicated jumps programmed into me so I keep trying to backflip-throw cap-dive onto it kind of combos and they usually end up being button mashing that almost works but I lose control and they fail (notably my original solution to getting a Moon in Luncheon, where I put two Goombas together, got a Hammer Bro, jumped on the Goombas, jumped out of the Hammer Bro, threw my cap at the wall, jumped on it, and tried reaching the platform above). I almost had it my first try but I jumped the wrong direction and missed the platform, and every future attempt failed (then I realized cannons unlocked and you just shoot yourself over it and land on it)

But yeah, overalll...

Cap Kingdom- Small, but best aesthetic and music, favorite world I think, just wish it had more to it.

Cascade Kingdom- Okay/10. Basic green starting world, not much to say, not a fan of jungle/dinosaur aesthetics personally

Sand Kingdom- Kingdom that got me feeling the game, spent a looot of time exploring it, even though it was just a desert. It had sheep and that was nice, one of the better worlds for sure.

Lake Kingdom- Worst Kingdom in the game, so disappointing after Sand Kingdom. I figured it’d be a half world because of the split path thing, but then Wooded absolutely blew it out of the water (no pun intended), but yeah, tiny, mostly just swimming a small area, and could’ve easily been combined with the other water world.

Wooded Kingdom- One of the better worlds, also had the best music as well in certain sections (not as enjoyable as Cap but still great). Main complaint is that bottom layer of the woods, though I might’ve missed a beat of dialogue that explained it, since I had no idea it was there without a guide (especially since I’ve died several times falling off the side trying to do certain platforming on spinning wheels near the secret garden). I liked the extendo guys though.

Cloud Kingdom- Just a boss world from what I saw.

Lost Kingdom- Hooo boy, this is when it started to get a little frustrating, but not too bad. Caterpillars were fun, probably best capture thing. Too much poison/10, poison is awful and instant death.

Metro Kingdom- Mannn that Sim language. Was enjoyable, definitely a weird aesthetic clash (which is intentionally most of the game but still), and also Mario in a tank in a stormy city under siege is something I never expected from a Mario game. Though it also had my least favorite minigame so far... jump rope. By some miracle I got to 103 and never again.

Snow Kingdom- Small, basic, overworld was nice but average. The racing second round was hell.

Seaside Kingdom- Up there, definitely much better than Lake Kingdom and should’ve been combined with it, but mannn it is just hard to explore all that water and probably the one I used a guide the most with because of how many small missable things I missed (though only three coins, right in the sea in a depression near the volley ball court). Also, volley ball was hell as well, just not as hell as jump rope.

Luncheon Kingdom- this was a painful kingdom. A lot of this was just me “okay I’m done get me out of this pink lava hell hole”, at first it was okay to explore but after the midboss it was ehhh. Also too bright and shiny.

Ruined Kingdom- unexpected/10. Just another boss world, but mann seeing a Skyrim-esque dragon in a Mario game attacking you like the FFIX scene with Kuja against Brahne was definitely a thing. The boss refight just adding ice physics and different shaped lightning that’s hard to avoid on ice was very blehh.

Bowser’s Kingdom- ... completely unexpected/10. Did not expect a Japanese castle setting, but I enjoyed the change of pace and loved how it was still treated as a travel destination in game. Birds were fun but very painful on certain segments with metal bouncing you backwards. Felt like more of a classic 3D Mario world too (or Galaxy/3D World anyway), with the separated platforms and linearity and stuff.

Moon Kingdom- It’s the moon. Pretty bland with empty space jumping, no idea how much I missed on here but I got every Moon on the list up to like, the one on the support beams in the chapel, so yeah. Also the one moon on the cannon is like the one moon I felt was super unfair to find but oh welll, thank you guide.

Mushroom Kingdom- Great throwback level, fun little area with tons to explore, that 2D Mario section with the fading 2D segments can go to hell though- Specifically, that area with the rotating segments because using a control stick to 2D platform and having it alternate between “holding right will keep you moving clockwise” and “stick moves in the direction you’re moving, aka if you’re on the left side, you have to press Up to go right/clockwise”. I’ve died on that more than I should have and it was bluh.

in short Cap is the best and Lake is the worst

also yeah

this game has a Waluigi costume

so far I went back and got all the Moons in Cap (except the Art one) and Cascade, the races I feel are going to be a nightmare soon but yeah. Also worried about how much money grind I might have to do to get all the outfits (they all seem doable since there’s like five pieces left for me to get I think, the Gold/Metal sets and the Skeleton, but the freaking Skeleton outfit is 9999 and that’ll be the thing that kills the completionist in me)

speaking of completionist, no idea how to feel about buying moons or if there’s a limit, but there doesn’t seem to be so hm

ALSO I LOVE HOW PEACH HAS DIFFERENT OUTFITS IN HER JOURNEYS TO THE KINGDOMS, her Cap outfit was fantastic and I hope she’s still there/is able to wear it because it is a very nice outfit good job being fashionable Peach

also I have to wonder still

where is Luigi

is he on the dark(er) side(s) of the Moon

I will find out myself once I collect everything and hit up the dark side segmentss

also once I’m done with everything I’m going to get a friend to co-op with me and see how bad the co-op is because I can’t imagine how it works

#text stuffs #nyrator plays games and stuff #nyrator reviews

[reactingtosomething]

Kris Reacts to Game of Thrones: 701, “Dragonstone”

“Would That Be So Terrible?”

The Setup: I (Kris, aka @omeletsforpepper) am not the only one of us who keeps up with Game of Thrones, but I wanted to try my hand at solo reacting. This could change, but my plan is to pick out a theme (not necessarily “the” theme) of the week’s episode, and discuss in depth just one or two scenes/sequences that involve it. I’ll also include some extra thoughts at the end, in the vein of The AV Club’s “Stray Observations.”

SPOILERS for the season 7 premiere of Game of Thrones immediately after the jump.

Though it isn’t actually one of the scenes I want to spotlight this week — largely because I’m sure it’s the one most discussed already across the internet — the bloody cold open gives us a pretty clear thematic statement: this is an episode about debt, and desert. (As in, the condition of deserving something, spelled like the geographical feature, but pronounced like the thing that comes at the end of a meal.) After killing almost everyone who was still eligible to be punished for the Red Wedding, almost everyone’s favorite Stark turns to the late Walder Frey’s newest wife to deliver not only a certain weather announcement, but also probably everyone’s second favorite Stark line: “The North remembers.”

That the North remembers is critical to both Jon and Sansa in the surprisingly nuanced scene that ends with the loyalty oaths of Alys Karstark and Ned Umber. For Jon, Northern and more specifically Stark memory is tied up in the very sense of tradition that kept him a lesser member of his family in the eyes of the late Catelyn, tradition into which he always wanted to be accepted. In spite of everything he’s learned, and all the compromises he’s made, Jon Snow (or should we be calling him Jon Stark now?) still holds as tightly as he can to the ideals and customs of his father. In this case, that means not taking away the ancestral homes of families who fought against him, under the Bolton banner. The Karstark and Umber heirs, both children, will inherit their fathers’ titles. As Sansa points out, although the specific Karstark and Umber men who fought for Ramsay Bolton are indeed already dead, the rest of the North will not receive the message that betraying the Starks will be punished. And more importantly, they will not receive the message that loyalty to the Starks in difficult times will be rewarded.

This is where the “surprisingly” part comes in. Though it’s often been a fiercely intelligent show, and always one that reveled in moral grayness, Game of Thrones isn’t really something I’d describe as subtle, or as being particularly adept with philosophical uncertainty. It has always claimed to be a show concerned with subtlety and ambiguity, but in practice that ambiguity often just meant subjecting characters (partially or completely naked women, disproportionately) to heavy-handed awfulness. Something like Joffrey’s sadistic torture-murder of Ros isn’t a marker of cleverness or depth, it’s Dark and Edgy for the sake of Dark and Edgy. Also, this is just one of those shows that typically doesn’t do subtext in its dialogue. It just has much better-sounding dialogue than your typical network procedural. And that’s not nothing!

A more interesting reason for the show’s incomplete success in delivering on true moral ambiguity is perhaps that it hasn’t often pitted its traditionally heroic characters against each other, especially post-“Blackwater.” But now that the two characters who’ve perhaps suffered most (not that it’s a contest) find themselves at odds, the show’s creative team clearly understands that doing both those characters justice means using a different kind of suspense from the sort that drove episodes like, say, “The Mountain and the Viper.”

We’ll have to wait to see the consequences of Jon’s very public refusal to take Sansa’s very public advice — advice with which most of the Stark bannermen seemed to heartily agree — not only in the military and political spheres, but in Jon and Sansa’s relationship. But I was glad to see that, perhaps owing to Lyanna Mormont’s influence, the men in the room weren’t dismissive of Sansa’s counsel, and were indeed on her side. I was also glad that even when Jon pushed ahead with his own agenda, we weren’t subjected to a repetition of the “everyone sure is angry at Jon” beats we saw so often at Castle Black. Maybe like the men of the Night’s Watch, they’re all tired of arguing with each other.

Or maybe it was that though Sansa very clearly won the logical argument in this scene, Jon kind of got to win the emotional one. Is it really any wonder he’s so opposed to taking away anyone’s ancestral home? It’s not only that he just took back Winterfell. It’s also that Winterfell was, before all of this, never intended to be his ancestral home. He was born a Snow (cough cough, yeah, I know, but the show didn’t go there this week so neither will I), not a Stark. The reclamation of Winterfell doesn’t necessarily mean more to Jon than it does to Sansa, but it does mean something different.

This layer, important as it is for us, probably didn’t occur to the Stark bannermen. For them, the emotional force of Jon’s case is much more concrete once Jon calls forward Alys Karstark and Ned Umber, the former of whom looks no older than Arya was in the show’s very first episode, and the latter of whom may well be younger than Bran was. Look, on the level of strategy, Sansa is right. Sansa is right! Jon is clinging to an ideal for the sake of the ideal, at least as much as because he thinks it’ll help him win. But even as we acknowledge that he’s making a bad decision, we can also acknowledge that there’s something laudable in it. Despite their agreement with Sansa, the bannermen get solemn when those kids  — those kids, who indeed do not deserve to be punished for the sins of their fathers — approach their king and bend the knee, and cheer when those kids say the words they have to say. And when Alys Karstark cracks a smile out of what’s surely a heady combination of relief, gratitude, and newfound purpose, we can’t help but be moved.

Unless we’re Sansa, tragically world-weary and out of fucks to give. Thank the old gods and the new for her bluntness in calling out the dearly departed Ned and Robb for “stupid mistakes.” And for her quiet but firm response — “Would that be so terrible?” — when Jon asks if being smarter than them means taking her advice. And for Jon’s wisdom in not pushing her away (yet, at least).

Something else to keep in mind about Jon and Sansa: Despite their heartfelt reunion and the shared trial of taking back Winterfell, we should remember that they held no special fondness for each other way back before their lives and the world went to hell. I can’t help wondering if that lack of pre-existing closeness will quietly become a complication now that Jon and Sansa both finally find themselves with the tiniest bit of breathing room.

Of course, Danaerys Targaryen gets the prize for longest-awaited homecoming. (Here’s a cool little Vanity Fair piece about the production design of Dragonstone.) I don’t want to go on much longer here, and I guess there isn’t that much to say, other than that the choice to make this scene almost-wordless was a good one, and that Team Targaryen’s tailor wins. 

When it comes down to it, I like the fact of Dany’s arrival to Dragonstone a lot, and I’m still pretty fond of her as a character, and of basically everyone in her entourage. (Varys is one of my very favorite supporting characters on this show.)

But throughout this whole sequence, I also couldn’t shake a meta-criticism, I guess, that the columnist Ross Douthat has made of the show and at least a theoretical subsection of its fans (emphasis mine):

“Game of Thrones” is still working within the framework of its essentially romantic genre — critiquing it and complicating it, yes, but also giving us a set of heroes and heroines to root for whose destinies are set by bloodlines and prophecies, and who are likely in the end to save their world from darkness and chaos no less than Aragorn or Shea Ohmsford or Rand al’Thor.

Put another way: On “The Sopranos,” there is no right way to be a mafioso. But on “Game of Thrones” there is a right way to be a lord or king and knight, and there are characters who model the virtues of each office, who prove that chivalry and wise lordship need not be a myth. Sometimes they do so in unexpected ways — the lady knight who has more chivalry than the men who jeer at her, the dwarf who rules more justly than the family members who look down on him. But this sort of reversal is typical of the genre, which always has its hobbits and stable boys and shieldmaidens ready to surprise the proud and prejudiced. And it coexists throughout the story with an emphasis on the importance of legitimacy and noblesse oblige and dynastic continuity, which is often strikingly uncynical given the dark-and-gritty atmosphere. […] In the end, whatever their politics in this world, both the show’s bad fans and its good fans are rooting a queen or for a king.

I am not, in general, a Douthat fan, mostly because of his hand-wringing in opposition to abortion and other “culture war” matters. But I think he’s a pretty solid pop culture writer, and very often the sort who’s helpful to read precisely because he doesn’t think the same things I think. And in this case, I’m even inclined to agree at least a little.

It’s pretty hard to deny that Game of Thrones has Bad Fans. Most of those Bad Fans are the kind who tweet endless harassment at culture writers who've criticized, say, the show’s use of sexual assault and its racial politics. But I would also love to see more critical and fan engagement with the idea that our designated protagonists are all protagonists-by-blood.

(One of the reasons for my arguable lack of generosity toward my fellow viewers here is that I remain convinced that Steve Rogers’ position in Captain America: Civil War is baldly anti-democratic, and that #TeamCap loyalists generally fail to reckon with this.)

Yes, Jon and Dany and Tyrion have all learned a lot that in theory makes them worthy of leadership. But does any of that actually mean that Dany (let’s just focus on her, for word count’s sake) deserves to be Queen of Westeros? More so than Cersei, sure. But should we really assume that the war has to end with one of our heroes on the Iron Throne? And is Dany actually entitled to any throne at all? Not really, if we’re honest. There’s no great moral case for her to have left Essos, where she could have still done a lot of good (setting aside, too, the White Savior thing). She left Essos because she felt entitled to a throne her family had abused for generations, in a land she barely remembers, full of people about whom she knows next to nothing. She wants to prove that she can be a better monarch than those who’ve gone before her. Tyrion wants to see her be a better monarch. Varys wants the country to stop bleeding. That all matters. But none of it is the main reason Dany started out on this path before meeting either of her newest advisors.

I’m not saying that Game of Thrones, or A Song of Ice and Fire, needs to end like the first year of Ta-Nehisi Coates’s run on Black Panther, with Wakanda finally beginning the process of writing up a constitution to distribute power away from its monarch. And I definitely doubt that it’ll go that way.

But also, um, why couldn’t it? Why shouldn’t it?

Would that be so terrible?

I Don’t Want to Just Call This Section “Stray Observations” but I Don’t Have a Different Name for It Yet Either and Sure I’ll Take Suggestions

Anyone else want to see Brienne spar with Tormund?

I have, for all practical intents and purposes, no real idea who Ed Sheeran is, so I actually really liked that scene of Arya with the Lannister soldiers. Another Surprisingly Nuanced moment. (If you feel the same way I do about the Surprisingly Nuanced thing, definitely read Matt Zoller Seitz on GoT’s grappling with its own legacy).

People not only cross oceans very quickly in this show, but build ships very quickly.

Heh.

When I read A Game of Thrones forever ago, I pictured Thoros of Myr as kind of a Shaolin monk type. I don’t know if that’s what GRRM pictured, but I still wish it was the case. I mean I like this Thoros just fine. But, you know. Asian representation. Just would’ve been cool.

I’ll try to be back here next week! In the meantime, you can follow us on Twitter if you’d like a convenient feed of other, better, culture writers.

#Game of Thrones #Dragonstone #Sansa Stark #Jon Snow #Daenerys Targaryen #Kris #reaction #TV #got season 7 #got spoilers #Kris reacts to GoT

[severalbakuras]

time

to

finish

s3

im not prepared

(apologies to mobile users for the long post)

episode 5:

intro is a pink screen. it’s established pink is a mourning colour. hrmmm.

oh its an eyeball SHIRO

that’s not a good looking room to be in

that HAIR

hallucinating already, this is Not Good.

so he’s like totally alone in that room that is just bad practice right there. supervisor’s gonna get fucked if they get caught.

and. another shiro. one who’s kept clean-shaven. oh ok i know where this is going i think.

operation kuron is so unsubtle that i think we’re in for several layers of bait-n-switch until it turns out shiro never actually existed. schrodinger’s Shiro. shirodinger. 

he escaped waaaaaay too easily - yeah. called it.

‘stage 3′ so stage one is ??? and stage two is this guy.

ok so shiro obvs remembers some things but i find it interesting that we’ve had no internal thoughts beyond memories of the tube/surgery. like he’s not thought about voltron or the paladins or allura and coran like he has no idea if they survived or not. nothing at all by the five minute mark.

HAGGAR FINALLY I’VE MISSED YOU SO

yeah you keep an eye on that boy. im sure absolutely nothing will happen to this guy.

self-cauterization holy shit.

“what killed you?” is the first spoken line of dialogue from shiro i think. everything else is just vague confusion noises and/or battle grunts iirc. we haven’t even had an internal line of thought yet (which i know don’t rly happen in this series like everyone tends to speak aloud but still he’s ALL alone). i think that’s significant, somehow.

how the fuck has he not frozen to death in that skinny suit.

SHIRO NO THAT COULD BE AN ACID LAKE

“subject Y0XT39″ i will eat a raw garlic clove if this turns out to be the real shiro.

wow that’s rly bad for blood circulation like way to make him lose his hands jackasses.

so these two are space cannibals. neat.

if you’re trying to convince people of who you are why would you just say your first name? he WANTS these guys to know who he is, there’s no point being cagey. say your surname shiro go ahead.

knowledge of who the paladins are rly is being kept tight under wraps. so long as nobody ever thinks to check out any planet where galra were known to have integrated into local alien communities to the point of children.

i :) wonder :) who :) might :) do :) that :)

(i wonder how earth’s doing. everyone has family down there who misses them (besides keith since he’s living in a shack in the desert and nobody from the MILITARY-ish training academy told his dad to come pick him up apparently))

lotor i swear to fuck don’t you dare pull a dreamworks smirk DONT DO YOU DARE

so galra channels are hackable

that big guy’s totally having a SUPPRESSING FIIIIIRE moment

i rly like this winter backdrop i love being able to see the brushstrokes on the snow (like digital ones but they count).

he’s starving but he doesn’t take a single bite of the food onscreen can’t tell if suspicious or #mood bc i don’t like people watching me eat either lol

so operation kuron isn’t something widely known then or Hold up those robo-soldiers have no reaction whatsoever to a unit falling down until the hangar doors close.

ok those two guys in the cave HAVE to be in on it or shiro would’ve died on that planet. why keep the ship above a Death Planet for him to be permitted to escape to unless they had someone down on the Death Planet who could send him back to the right ship to deliver to voltron without him knowing he was being played?

like this is ALL phase 3.

‘stop spying on me’

‘do your fucking job’

HA. IDEAS. IN ZARKON’S HEAD. AHHAHAA

i think this is the first time i’ve seen lotor angry like haggar gets under his skin so easily i hope they talk again soon. ‘I AM THE LEADER’ his VOICE damn.

ok so like i already know lotor is half-galran and he’s probably half-altean too like in the original series with the hair and all. but i don’t think haggar is his mother even though she’s also altean. he’s hyper-focused on not being like his father in that scene but he also seems the type that he’d leave a snarky comment about his mother too if she were. and she doesn’t ever refer to him as her son, only zarkon’s. she’d surely say ‘our’ son, unless she officially disowned him as part of his banishment and hates his guts but then surely he’d have at least SOME reaction to seeing her unless he was, like, literally banished at birth and doesn’t know who she is and that he’s half-altean. bc if he knew he was he’d connect the dots between ‘only altean on the ship’ and his dad v quickly.

like i do know the story behind exactly how original lotor (aka sincline) is half altean and it’s Unpleasant and makes zarkon a fucking monster and i doubt this series would even imply that that was the case here but if it did and our lotor knew this was the truth behind his parentage that could explain his lack of reaction to haggar AND his deeply intrinsic rejection of his father.

oh come ON the ship is stocked with oxygen!!!!!! why would a ship that’s intended for a robot pilot need oxygen!!!!!!!!

seven days, when he’s already in a bad way re blood loss/injury (like a healing serious wound burns calories and fluid by the truckload) and didn’t have much water to go on beforehand. if i didn’t think something was up before man.

finally, almost 20 minutes in, we finally see him think of his teammates. took long enough.

black lion notices. hrm.

episode six:

nice shooting lancFCUKING KILL THEM ALLURA

SAME LANCE

HUG YOUR SON SHIRO actually no you’re not shiro stay the fuck away from him

‘weird headache’ since this isn’t a dramatic romance show, he’s not got Invisible Anime Disease #5 so there’s absolutely a tracker in his brain.

A HUNK MOMENT THAT ISN’T ABOUT FOOD I’M CRY (like it intersects with pidge but i don’t mind it’s nice that he gets to show his own brains in what feels like forever)

shiro automatically stepping back in ‘this is what we do mode’ is SHRHCHCH. NO. even if he WASN’T a clone he’s still recovering and is missing out on potentially months of their relationships changing and being redefined. he can’t just step back in like that.

ok so like???? if there’d been more scenes like this early on??? i’d probably be totally into klance?? like keith doesn’t really grasp the depths of the issue with lance judging by how the shot holds on lance leaving and his facial expressions and all but keith tries and lance tries and there’s no cheap joke thrown in there’s no rejecting that there was any emotional connection. it’s not solved the problem lance has by any means but it’s lance opening up to keith about his vulnerabilities and worries and it’s keith doing his best to help him both as a leader and a friend and the narrative doesn’t turn either of them into a joke for it. THAT IS MY SHIT RIGHT THERE.

like i’m obvs lowkey into enemies-friends-lovers (bc otherwise i wouldn’t consider keitor or any of my other ships which i won’t name bc i’ve made it this far without comparing anything to warcraft so i won’t start now) but i guess i much prefer the friends-lovers stage. (especially when only one half of the pair considers the other as ‘enemy’ in the first place).

‘just whack it’ is a universal law that will last forever

SHIRO ARE YOU IN THE LEADER CHAIR. NO? SHUT UP.

fucking fake ass shiro he doesn’t even acknowledge keith stepping up to make a plan as leader like he always fucking wanted him to do he just sails on into his own plan without so much as a ‘sorry’. fuck you fake shiro. firo.

and keith just stands there like a lemon like this is ok ahrhfhg. firo i swear to god if you drag keith back down into the place he was on the gas planet before lance intervened i’m gonna be so mad.

interesting that we don’t get a reaction shot of lance when keith offers to stay behind instead of taking back red. considering how that was literally what the last scene between him and keith was about is all.

so clones are genetically identical so the black lion picking up on firo’s ~spark of life~ fading or whatever to rescue him isn’t odd. but the black lion knows your soul and it’s not happy.

(could be an issue when the real shiro returns tho but eh that’s a problem for futuretron)

I LOVE THIS LOYAL PETTY BASTARD

“Victory or death!” OH COME ON YOU’RE MAKING THE WARCRAFT REFERENCES FOR ME. LOKTAR OGAR

so perhaps lotor squad isn’t in on operation kuron?

i wonder what’s being whispered during the mind control scenes.

that ship looks like a space fox... or maybe a star fox.

in two minds about this part like right now firo IS right but they DO need to actually try and confront lotor at some point. it’s ALWAYS going to be a bad time bc lotor has figured out how to use plot armor to protect himself so sometimes you just need to attack that face down trap card and face the consequences or you’ll be stuck forever yknow?

OH IT’S HER. FROM THE SHIP. COOL i was wondering if that’d come up again.

oops he’s ambidextrous.

also i think ezor might be a little crueler than she lets on, she’s got some v. vicious expressions going on in this grapple.

ZETHRID THINKS ALLURA’S A WORTHY OPPONENT ZELLURA YOU ARE CLEARED FOR LAUNCH (in other news i am a terrible person)

honestly those are both equally high priority targets, either one WILL fuck things up in the future no matter if they follow firo or keith.

now lotor how do you know they were about to attack, unless you perhaps had a direct link into the lions communication lines, which have been kinda previously established as being impossible to hack?

(so that’s one point in them also knowing about project kuron)

YES KEITH THIS IS WHAT YOU DO BEST ON THE FLY INSTINCTIVE GOOD MOVE

hooooly shit lotor’s maaaad

get your hand off him firo.

“i’m sorry i had to step in back there” step in. STEP IN. LIKE YOU WEREN’T IN CONTROL OF THE ENTIRE MISSION START TO FINISH. he sets up ‘you were the leader and you weren’t good enough’ almost on purpose..

the former isn’t true because keith still stepped down and firo commanded all their movements from the ship and the latter isn’t true because no plan survives contact with the enemy keith basically had it as under control as shiro always did. considering the circumstances he did damn well AND he scored a ‘fuck you’ point against lotor by using lotor’s own new ship to wreck the teledove.

“i thought i had it under control” ;A;

HE’S BEEN THERE SINCE THEY ALL FORMED VOLTRON YOU FUCK. HE WAS GOOD AT THIS UNTIL YOU GOT HERE.

FUCK YOU FIRO.

damn that’s cold haggar.

episode seven:

i’m. um. huh. those certainly were memories i’ll need to pause on later.

this dramatic scene is being ruined by all the cute little triforces floating around.

my civil war theory is officially dead now i guess. goodbye, civil war theory. it was nice to have you as a handy aversion of the whole ‘X race is like this while Y race is like this’ trope that always shows up in sci fi and fantasy and sci-fantasy~

this music is giving me jack sparrow IN SPACE vibes.

oooh the dust particle effect in the light shafts in the air is pretty and a good attention to detail.

now see like why wasn’t his spirit projection thing back in season 1 more like this??? he has a character he’s got personality he’s just like his daughter i’d actually MISS this guy if that spirit projection thing had been like his true self and not a bland whatever he was he’s so forgettable i can’t even remember what he was like.

ZARKON WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED. YOUR VOICE. YOUR EYES.

so like galra culture has a class/caste system and is kinda militaristic. explains a lot in the future i guess.

“WHAT IS THAT” is that the same cat narti has? and oh god no he’s a dork.

OH NO HE’S A REALLY BIG DORK AAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAA BABY ALLURA. SHE’S SO CUTE.

oh so he married honerva? oh no. OH NO SHE BETTER NOT BE HAGGAR. DON’T DO THIS.

“it was a customary gesture” tf is that all about.

“by willow!” is that the first canon mention of a deity? cool.

so the red paladin was technically the first paladin.

this thing is eldritch as fuck.

“Am I a leg?!” god i am so sad that you’re going to die horribly i love you.

now it’s REALLY eldritch.

god she really is haggar.

so alteans definitely age then (which proves empress allura was definitely dead a long LONG time before alt-eans went all mind-controlly).

honergar’s giving me major ‘that bloodbender who’s name i’ve forgotten’ vibes.

I KNEW QUINTESSENCE WAS BAD SHIT

he loves her so much im gonna cry.

so the lions cannot pick up on deceit then. they accept the will of their paladin over the safety of voltron as a whole and the other lions. they cast no moral judgement.

so there could easily be an evil voltron somewhere.

ZARKON NO HE’S HOLDING HER HAND ARGH.

so those weird purple cloud creatures from another dimension are puppeteering the corpse of the first black paladin, taking his basic desire for power and extending it into a galaxy spanning genocidal crusade because???

their home dimension must be a fucking hell dimension if things like that are trying to escape.

that guard made it seem like they sorta knew and accepted why their planet was destroyed so i guess zarkon returning from death was such a massive cultural shock that they all fell into line. bc otherwise i find it hard to believe that every single galra would join the battle (like yeah the blades exist but they’re a tiny movement) and not question what the fuck happened to his eyes or voice or how he came back from the fucking dead or why they’re meant to suddenly hate everyone.

ok so why do most of the galra have similar glowing eyes iirc? surely the vast majority should have the normal eyes that old zarkon and lotor have but they don’t. unless like successful generals are permitted to ‘live’ forever by taking the creatures into their bodies but then like they have far too much personality for that. the loktar ogar guy for example. what gives.

that’s kind of a leap at lotor’s motives but an understandable one, they don’t know how much lotor detests being like his father so i doubt he’d do the same damn thing his father was trying to do.

he’s baaaaack and he’s got no new tricks, zombieman zarkon’s still just as thick as the last time~

lotor’s gonna be so mad. and also this doesn’t actually explain why haggar lets zarkon run roughshod all over her much better plans prior to this because she doesn’t remember being his husband until this episode.

and also also imo this means haggar definitely can’t be lotor’s mother bc when we’re seeing things coran can’t possibly know like honerva on her death bed we’re probably seeing haggar’s vision of events and he doesn’t appear to be a factor in either of their lives but she remembers their wedding perfectly.

(unless he’s a zombaby but he can’t be because his eyes don’t glow).

hrm.

season four when.

#vld #voltron legendary defender #sb watches voltron

[magneticmaguk]

James Van Der Beek: 'I lived in fear of teenage girls'

Dawson Leery is the TV character that no one will let James Van Der Beek forget. The teen drama he moped about in for seven series is nearly 20 years old, and his career has been on a curious trajectory ever since, but still the possibility of a Capeside reunion is all that anyone wants to ask him about.

And so Van Der Beek begins our conversation by bringing it up before we’ve even ordered coffee. “That’s the question that comes at the end of every interview,” he tells me. “Somebody says, ‘OK now, I apologise, you know I have to ask…’”

Well, seeing as he mentioned it, would he indulge the show’s many fans – one of whom is absolutely not sitting opposite him in a hotel bar this morning and totally did not spend a lot of her early teens imagining that one day she’d fall for someone who spoke in impossibly long monologues – with Dawson’s Creek The Movie? Is there a Netflix-enabled future in which Michelle Williams, Katie Holmes, Joshua Jackson and himself would play midlife versions of their former breakout roles?

Inevitably, the answer is a sighed no. “Some characters live with you for a while and you wonder how they’re doing and what they’d be doing now,” he offers. “I felt pretty complete putting that one on the shelf and not looking at him again.”

But the show’s theme tune still haunts him. “I have a complicated relationship with that song,” he says (for the uninitiated, it’s Paula Cole’s breathlessly irritating I Don’t Want To Wait). “If I was at karaoke and it started playing there’s a part of me – and I’m a fucking grown-ass man with four kids – that still wants to go hide under the table. I was at a pharmacy in Philadelphia and it came on and I immediately went into a weird panic. I think it’s tied to the pandemonium that accompanied that, for which there was no off button. Walking around at that time was very tricky because one autograph could turn into a mob scene. So I walked around,” he laughs, “in fear of teenage girls.”

No wonder he doesn’t want to resurrect Dawson. But it might also be because, while his wannabe film-maker may have been the poster-boy for sensitive teen romanticism in the late 90s, the character was astonishingly wet. The internet agrees, and in 2011 volunteered some shorthand by way of a two-second gif of Dawson mid-cry, lifted from an episode where he is dumped by long-standing crush Joey. The meme still makes him chuckle. He has a mischievous titter – at odds with his off-duty 50s film-star outfit of tweed trousers and cream shawl cardigan.

Kickstarted by Ugly Cry Face, he’s currently riding a second wave as a meta-star. There’s been a cameo in a Kesha music video, skits for the comedy website Funny Or Die – including one, “Vandermemes”, where he owns the Ugly Cry Face phenomenon by demonstrating more “intense emotional closeups” – and a role as himself in the TV comedy Don’t Trust the B---- in Apartment 23. Very soon he will be parodying superstar DJ Diplo in upcoming Vice series What Would Diplo Do?

His leap into comedy acting came after his big TV comeback show, NBC medical drama Mercy, was cancelled. “I was 33, I had my first kid, and I thought: OK, what doors are open right now?” he says. “And I was thinking, I’m having more fun doing this [comedy] than I would crying every day!”

Apartment 23 sounds in many ways like a bizarre kind of therapy. “It [was] great to go in and obliterate any shards of ego or self-preservation that may have been left,” says Van Der Beek of what it was like to play an inflated version of himself. “Any preciousness, any label that you’re fighting for or hoping to preserve – it’s the death of any interesting or worthwhile expression.”

In the 14 years since Dawson’s Creek ended, Van der Beek has taken all sorts of roles in mainly short-lived sitcoms, including Friends With Better Lives, made by the people behind Friends and Frazier. When that was pulled after eight episodes he took a role in police procedural CSI: Cyber but it was “a desert for me, creatively. There’s a lot of standing around and laying expositional pipe.”

You can see why he was drawn to his current role as an obnoxious tech entrepreneur in Sky comedy Carters Get Rich, in which his character appears out of a briefcase as a hologram, kimono-clad and dancing to 90s house music. But it’s while discussing What Would Diplo Do? that his blue eyes light up. It’s his first time as star and showrunner: “What we pitched was parables through the eyes of a clown: EDM Jesus Sucks at Life!”

The show started life as a video promo for one of Diplo’s live tours but soon spiralled into a scripted comedy miniseries. Van Der Beek hired writers – including, in an ironic twist, Hal Oszan, who played Dawson’s odious director-mentor Todd Carr back in the Creek – and they set about storyboarding the exaggerated world of Diplo (aka Wes Pentz).

“Every episode we would try and figure out: what is a universal truth about life, about ego, about relationships, or self-preservation? We’d write high-minded nonsense on the whiteboard and then layer ridiculousness on top. So the idea is that fake Diplo is able to channel philosophical wisdom at the same rate as he channels the right hook and the right beat. And he gets to ride a horse!”

Pentz was onboard from the get-go and, according to Van Der Beek, not taking himself too seriously either. “When I was first very famous and people were passing out and all that, I remember watching a Beatles documentary and George saying how people were looking for any excuse to go mad. That’s the first thing I heard that made sense about any of this. People say “I love you!”, but they don’t love me, I’m saying somebody else’s words. I’m wearing makeup for God’s sakes! They’re loving some representation.”

And it’s the same with club culture. “People really want to be moved, they want to throw their hands in the air. Music catches the edge of something metaphysical and these DJs – the good ones – are sensitive to that. We make a joke in the show about how they’re modern-day shamen.” And has any of that superstar DJ shine stuck? “I’d like to think so,” he smirks. “The crotch in the sweatpants that I wear has dropped an inch or two.”

#culture