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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

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Chapter 23

WC: 774

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: angst, protective big brother, rivalry, language

A/N: This is fully from Niki/James perspectives.

Another two weeks go by and Hunt is still ignoring you. It’s been six weeks since he discovered his relationship with you. Quite frankly, he’s been ignoring Niki too. Several races have occurred since that day in August and Hunt has not interacted with him if he can help it. He has been a bit more aggressive on the circuit, beating Niki twice and nearly catching up in points. He knew he couldn’t come after Niki seriously at risk of either getting someone killed or losing his chance at winning the title. Aside from that, all has been normal at the races.

You are another story. Niki noticed a brief reprieve of your mood the night you stayed with him. But it didn’t last. Niki’s own anger was growing. He understood that Hunt was feeling betrayed, but you were his little sister. The only one that stood by his side when he first went for racing. Even throughout the entire time you had been together you still prioritized your brother and his desires as much as you reasonably could. Hunt could be mad all he wanted, but Niki was not going to let him torture you with guilt. Niki would take the blame himself if need be.

He didn’t tell you that he had taken a day trip to McLaren’s garage. He didn’t tell you that he was going to confront Hunt about being such an asshole. He didn’t need to add to your list of worries.

Niki wasn’t going to wait to be escorted to Hunt. Instead, he wandered around until he found him at a garage.

“James. We need to talk.”

Hunt’s eyes narrowed at the Austrian as he approached. “Who let the rat in?” he asked no one in particular.

Niki figured Hunt had at least some common sense because he did not start throwing fists at Niki’s presence. He also assumed that he was caught up on what the papers had put out, it was hard to miss when he was part of every headline for weeks. “Cut the bullshit with Catherine. She calls you constantly and you avoid her like the plague. None of this is her fault. She doesn’t eat, she barely sleeps.”

James’ jaw ticked. “I don’t see how this is my problem. She chose you, deal with it yourself.” He pushed an air of indifference but Niki could see the hurt in his eyes.

“She talks about you all the time. Used to drive me nuts, you know. Stories of you. About how proud of you she is and how you were the only one to see her growing up. She felt guilty about not telling you the entire time. She didn’t want to come between us out there,” he points towards the test track.

“Months.” James starts. “You have been going behind my back for months. With my SISTER!” He throws the towel he was holding.

Niki looks down in guilt, lips pursed. He didn’t like having to sneak around either, if he’s being honest with himself.

“God, Niki, I know we talk shit out there but I thought you had some decency in you. We used to live together for christsake! Going after my sister? What the hell were you thinking?”

“It was mutual. It was a risk I was willing to take,” he replied.

James scoffs. “Risk.”

“I’m not like you, James. You know how I am. I live my life based on risk and reward. I don’t have ‘fun’, I don’t go to parties. I’m a serious guy.”

“Yeah and you’ve seriously fucked up.” There wasn’t much heat behind the words. James wouldn’t say that he had really accepted or come to terms with you and Niki. He was beyond pissed that you still went with him after you’d promised you wouldn’t. More so he worried that Niki had taken advantage of your kindness in some way. He never thought Niki would have been the type to do something like this; to break the quasi-best-frenemies code they had.

“I know what I signed up for when I chose her. She loves me. I love her. I have a ring, James - that’s how serious I am.” He wanted to spend his life with you. Niki watches for a reaction at his admission but gets none from the other man. “You don’t have to accept that but I won’t stand by while you break her heart because you can’t get over this,” he gestured between the two of them. “Hate me, fine. But she misses you. She needs you, James.”

With that he left the garage and James to ponder what he had said.

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander @ntlmundy @mymagicsuitcase @anteroom-of-death @somethingthatsaysbubbles @lieutenantn @multiversemarielle @trashbin2 @whatawildone @metalbreakfast @laura-naruto-fan1998 @greeneyedblondie44 @godidontevenknowwhat @marchingicenotes7 @loliissmut

#sleeping with the enemy #swte scuttle buttle #scuttle-buttle #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl niki lauda #rush 2013 #niki lauda rush 2013 #niki lauda x reader #niki lauda

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kemetic-dreams · 3 years

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Ragtime originated in African American music in the late 19th century and descended from the jigs and march music played by African American bands, referred to as "jig piano" or "piano thumping".

By the start of the 20th century, it became widely popular throughout North America and was listened and danced to, performed, and written by people of many different subcultures. A distinctly American musical style, ragtime may be considered a synthesis of African syncopation and European classical music, especially the marches made popular by John Philip Sousa.

Some early piano rags are entitled marches, and "jig" and "rag" were used interchangeably in the mid-1890s.Ragtime was also preceded by its close relative the cakewalk. In 1895, African entertainer Ernest Hogan composed two of the earliest sheet music rags, one of which ("All Coons Look Alike to Me") eventually sold a million copies. The other composition was called "La Pas Ma La", and it was also a hit.

As African musician Tom Fletcher said, Hogan was the "first to put on paper the kind of rhythm that was being played by non-reading musicians." While the song's success helped introduce the country to ragtime rhythms, its use of racial slurs created a number of derogatory imitation tunes, known as "coon songs" because of their use of racist and stereotypical images of Africans. In Hogan's later years, he admitted shame and a sense of "race betrayal" from the song, while also expressing pride in helping bring ragtime to a larger audience.

The emergence of mature ragtime is usually dated to 1897, the year in which several important early rags were published. In 1899, Scott Joplin's "Maple Leaf Rag" was published and became a great hit and demonstrated more depth and sophistication than earlier ragtime. Ragtime was one of the main influences on the early development of jazz (along with the blues). Some artists, such as Jelly Roll Morton, were present and performed both ragtime and jazz styles during the period the two styles overlapped. He also incorporated the Spanish Tinge in his performances, which gave a habanera or tango rhythm to his music. Jazz largely surpassed ragtime in mainstream popularity in the early 1920s, although ragtime compositions continue to be written up to the present, and periodic revivals of popular interest in ragtime occurred in the 1950s and the 1970s.

The heyday of ragtime occurred before sound recording was widely available. Like classical music, and unlike jazz, classical ragtime had and has primarily a written tradition, being distributed in sheet music rather than through recordings or by imitation of live performances. Ragtime music was also distributed via piano rolls for player pianos. A folk ragtime tradition also existed before and during the period of classical ragtime (a designation largely created by Scott Joplin's publisher John Stillwell Stark), manifesting itself mostly through string bands, banjo and mandolin clubs (which experienced a burst of popularity during the early 20th century) and the like.

A form known as novelty piano (or novelty ragtime) emerged as the traditional rag was fading in popularity. Where traditional ragtime depended on amateur pianists and sheet music sales, the novelty rag took advantage of new advances in piano-roll technology and the phonograph record to permit a more complex, pyrotechnic, performance-oriented style of rag to be heard. Chief among the novelty rag composers is Zez Confrey, whose "Kitten on the Keys" popularized the style in 1921.

Ragtime also served as the roots for stride piano, a more improvisational piano style popular in the 1920s and 1930s. Elements of ragtime found their way into much of the American popular music of the early 20th century. It also played a central role in the development of the musical style later referred to as Piedmont blues; indeed, much of the music played by such artists of the style as Reverend Gary Davis, Blind Boy Fuller, Elizabeth Cotten, and Etta Baker could be referred to as "ragtime guitar."

Although most ragtime was composed for piano, transcriptions for other instruments and ensembles are common, notably including Gunther Schuller's arrangements of Joplin's rags. Ragtime guitar continued to be popular into the 1930s, usually in the form of songs accompanied by skilled guitar work. Numerous records emanated from several labels, performed by Blind Blake, Blind Boy Fuller, Lemon Jefferson, and others. Occasionally ragtime was scored for ensembles (particularly dance bands and brass bands) similar to those of James Reese Europe or as songs like those written by Irving Berlin. Joplin had long-standing ambitions of synthesizing the worlds of ragtime and opera, to which end the opera Treemonisha was written. However, its first performance, poorly staged with Joplin accompanying on the piano, was "disastrous" and was never performed again in Joplin's lifetime.[The score was lost for decades, then rediscovered in 1970, and a fully orchestrated and staged performance took place in 1972. An earlier opera by Joplin, A Guest of Honor, has been lost

The rag was a modification of the march made popular by John Philip Sousa, with additional polyrhythms coming from African music.It was usually written in 2/4 or 4/4 time with a predominant left-hand pattern of bass notes on strong beats (beats 1 and 3) and chords on weak beats (beat 2 and 4) accompanying a syncopated melody in the right hand. According to some sources the name "ragtime" may come from the "ragged or syncopated rhythm" of the right hand. A rag written in 3/4 time is a "ragtime waltz."

European Classical composers were influenced by the form. The first contact with ragtime was probably at the Paris Exposition in 1900, one of the stages of the European tour of John Philip Sousa. The first notable classical composer to take a serious interest in ragtime was Antonín Dvořák.

French composer Claude Debussy emulated ragtime in three pieces for piano. The best-known remains the Golliwog's Cake Walk (from the 1908 Piano Suite Children's Corner). He later returned to the style with two preludes for piano: Minstrels, (1910) and General Lavine-excentric (from his 1913 Préludes), which was inspired by a Médrano circus clown

#african music #kemetic dreams #african culture #ragtime #syncopated rhythm #paris #jazz music #jazz

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

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Just a Friend

So I finally started to write another story...

I will try and post weekly, but can’t promise on account of real life and my inability to actually focus on translating what’s in my head onto paper (or screen!)

Getting the courage to post never gets any easier, but here goes. I hope you enjoy this frothy bit of fun. I will also post on AO3.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for being an excellent beta.

Chapter 1: From Airport to Aggravation

Bank holiday crowds, on the whole, are hell.

And this one is rapidly turning into an even deeper level of purgatory. The hottest May for years in Scotland and I’m stuck at Glasgow airport with a dozen women, collectively known as ‘Geillis’s Hen Party Posse’, each displaying varying degrees of inebriation, hangover or general sleep deprivation, and all aiming for the luggage carousel showing the flight from Barcelona. Which apparently is where several hundred other disembarked passengers are also heading.

Eventually, I manage to get a view of the bags and cases slowly making their way around the belt. They’re pretty picked over by this time, apart from the couple of boxes covered in gaffer tape that always seem to be first off a plane—any plane—and last to be collected. They’re always there, on every flight. Why is that?

I pause from my musings to wave frantically at Geillis, who now has a trolley and is clearing a path straight towards me.

“I got us a trolley.” she informs me, stating the obvious. “I thought it’d be easier. Have ye seen ours yet, Claire? I canna see the others. They must have already gone through.”

“No,” I answer, keeping my eyes firmly on the little hatch, willing our bags to appear. All I want is to go home, put my sleep mask on and try and get some sleep. Three days in Barcelona celebrating Geillis’s forthcoming nuptials have worn me out, and, I glance at my watch, I am due in theatre in approximately seventeen hours time.

"It's there, it's there," Geillis points excitedly at the neon pink and green leopard print bag making its way towards us.

She makes a grab for it as I continue to look for my bag. Predictably, it’s one of the last ones on the carousel. I recognise it immediately from the piece of red gift ribbon tied to the handle of the plain black Samsonite. I load it onto the trolley and Geillis and I head through customs to join the rest of the posse.

We say our goodbyes loudly, with much hugging and kisses. A stranger viewing this scene might imagine we won’t be seeing each other again for weeks or even months. In truth, I’ll be seeing most of them in the next week or so at the hospital as our schedules coincide.

“Shall we two get a taxi, then?” Geillis asks me.

I start to answer as my mobile pings — a text from Frank...very nice, very caring, very predictable.

Darling, it’s been a long three days without you. I am ready to collect you from the airport if you would like. If not, might I see you later this evening? xxx

And that is very clearly Frank. Correct grammar and punctuation, even on his texts. I shake my head as if to drive away my inner bitch and pretend I haven’t read it. I will respond, of course, just later when I’m back at home.

So, I smile at Geillis and agree. “Of course, we can go halves.”

***********

As I walk into my flat, the peace and quiet and sheer bloody calm wraps itself around me like a swaddling cloth. It’s blissfully cool too, with all the shutters closed.

It’s not that I didn’t have a good time in Barcelona. It was actually great. But being in the company of others twenty four hours a day is wearing, much as I love them. And we all had to do everything together. No sneaking off for a solitary walk, or escaping to bed for a little siesta.

I deposit my suitcase by the bedroom door, slip off my converse, pour myself a glass of orange juice, settle down on the sofa and figure out how best to tell Frank not tonight without offending him.

Frank, Sorry but tonight isn’t —

I delete and try again.

Thanks for the offer to pick me up. I was already in the taxi when I got it. Can we give tonight a miss? Theatre in the morning and I’m knackered totally exhausted. You know what Geillis is like. Speak tomorrow, I promise. C

Frank knows what Geillis is like. Frank thinks Geillis is a bad influence on me, with her larger than life personality and wild ideas. I think Frank doesn’t really know me at all if he believes I can be influenced like that. I hang out with Geillis and my friends because they’re fun and we laugh… a lot.

Without realising, I feel my shoulder muscles relax as soon as I’ve sent the message. These are not good signs for my relationship with Frank. He’s investing far more into ‘us’ than I am willing to do. But as long as I’m honest with him…

There are advantages to being with Frank, of course. He’s punctual, very organised and a proficient and considerate lover. He always makes sure I come, even if I sometimes...er… exaggerate my reactions to hurry things along. So much for honesty, then.

I finish my orange juice and plan my evening. Four things to do - unpack, grab some food, shower and sleep. Not even going to wash my hair. That would really be too much effort, struggling with my untameable mane, and it’s going to be stuck under a surgical cap for most of tomorrow anyway.

It takes a bit of effort to actually move from the sofa. I could quite happily fall asleep there. But then I’d wake up in the middle of the night—starving hungry and still smelling of sweaty airports. Reluctantly, I haul myself into a vertical position and head for my bedroom picking up my suitcase en route.

Opening the suitcase, I am not greeted with the expected haphazard mass of sun dresses, t shirts and shorts—all with the evocative aroma of Hawaiian Tropic—but a layer of white dress shirts, immaculately folded and the faint scent of a musky cologne.

Shit, shit, shit!! Some else has walked off with my black samsonite with the red ribbon on the handle. My evening plans are rapidly going awry. I delve into my handbag praying that I kept my boarding pass with the sticky bar code luggage receipt. The relief when I find it lurking in the bottom of my bag is immense. Quickly I google the airline lost baggage number and dial.

After a few bars of some god awful plinky plinky hold music, I hear a recorded message. “Your call is important to us, please hold. Your call is important to us, please hold.”

Good to know, then back to the plinky plinky before another message. “The office you are trying to reach is now closed. Please try again during office hours nine am to five thirty. Thank you.”

“If my call is so important to you, why is no one there at six o’clock?” I yell down the phone, but the plinky plinky ignores me and continues its irritating melody.

I sigh. I don’t want to have to wait until tomorrow morning to sort this out. Besides, by nine am tomorrow morning, I will be somewhat unavailable - reshaping the hip bone of a seven year old boy. So, I have no alternative. I will have to have a bit of a dig around this stranger’s suitcase, looking for any clue or contact details.

As I start to have a feel around, it occurs to me that some stranger might, at this very moment, be doing exactly the same thing — having a poke around my suitcase in the hope of finding my details. No doubt judging me based on my choice of holiday attire. And, I suddenly realise, his judgement may well be coloured by the discovery of some items of a more adult nature.

I say ‘he’, based on the XL white shirts, the pair of battered jeans and faded Scotland rugby shirt, but I could be wrong. I don’t have to dig any further into the case as I spy, in a mesh pocket, a neat rectangle of card with a name — James Fraser — a mobile number and an email address.

Relief sweeps over me. Perhaps we can get this all sorted tonight. Unless this James Fraser lives miles away and was just passing through Glasgow on his way to, say, the Outer Hebrides. That could be a whole other level of problem.

I quickly reach for my phone. Another message from Frank awaits.

Are you sure, darling? I’m looking forward to seeing you. Would tomorrow evening work for you?

I ignore it for the moment. Let me sort my luggage issue out first.

I dial the number on the card and begin to pace around my bedroom as it rings and rings. I am just about to give up when, thankfully, it’s answered.

“Hello?” A female voice asks warily.

I clear my throat and put on my most pleasant phone voice. “Is there a James Fraser there please?”

“Ye’ve the wrong number.”

“Oh, sorry, I must have mis—“ I begin, but find myself apologising to dead air.

I try again, carefully comparing each digit to those written, very neatly, on the card.

“Hello?” The same female voice answers, more than a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“I’m sorry, but this is the number I have for James Fra—“

“And I already told ye, ye’ve the wrong number. Dinna bother again.”

In the days before mobiles, I’m sure this would have been accompanied by a deafening crash as the receiver hit the cradle. Pressing a soft key doesn’t have the same dramatic effect. But I get the message anyway.

So, new plan needed. All I can do is email this James Fraser and hope he actually has written down the correct email address. If not, I’ll have to sort it out with the airline tomorrow afternoon.

My stomach rumbles and I suddenly realise that I’ve not eaten since breakfast, unless you count the slices of fruit in my jug of sangria. I wander into the kitchen and peruse the contents of my cupboards and fridge. I’m not the most gifted cook, but I’m not too bad and can usually rustle up something edible and fairly tasty. The bread feels a bit on the dry side but will be fine toasted, and I know I have eggs.

I put a knob of butter in a pan and text Frank while I’m waiting for it to sizzle.

Think tomoz will be ok. Talk 2morrow. C

I don’t normally use text speak at all, but something about Frank’s perfectly formed text messages always makes me want to rebel. I can imagine him wincing right now. He’s a professor at the university and is forever complaining about the standard of literacy amongst his undergraduates. If he thinks he has problems, he should try dealing with junior doctors.

With my scrambled egg on toast all eaten, I focus my attention on the email to James Fraser. I write it quickly, brief and to the point: I have your suitcase and therefore presume you have mine, can we meet to swap them over and here’s my phone number.

The longing for a shower and then bed is now overwhelming. I strip off and bundle all my clothes into the laundry basket, tie my hair up with a scrunchie and step into my shower. This is undoubtedly one of my favourite places on earth and possibly the reason that I bought this flat. Large enough for two, I suppose. Although none have yet been invited to partake in this heavenly experience. Maybe I’m saving that for someone extra special. It has a huge overhead rainfall shower head and a handheld shower head too.

My indulgences are all in here — a selection of expensive shower gels, scrubs and lotions and an assortment of huge fluffy bath towels. I choose a lavender scented gel and scrub all traces of the day from my skin.

Wrapping myself in one of my pristine white towels, I slather shea butter lotion on my slightly sun-burnt skin, noticing the uneven red patches where the sun cream hadn’t quite reached but at least it’s not sore.

A quick check of my emails shows there’s no word from James Fraser as yet, so I decide to just settle down to sleep and leave luggage worries until the morning. Fortunately, I had changed the sheets before my weekend away, so I simply unwrap my towel, leaving it in a heap on the floor and slide into bed. The feeling of the cool, crisp bedding against my skin is wonderful. I assume a sort of diagonal starfish position, not having to worry about any other occupants. It crosses my mind whether to reach for the tiny vibrator in my bedside drawer, but I’m too comfortable and drowsy for that, so instead I check my alarm and settle down for sleep.

#outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Just a Friend #chapter 1 #Here goes

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katherinemallory · 3 years

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#9 The spy who kissed me

All the previous chapters of this soap opera can be found here: #1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7 #8

I've never eaten such an expensive dinner before and I was relieved I didn't have to pay for it. Bond insisted to dine somewhere outside the MI6 Headquarters, so no one could interrupt us, and I willingly agreed. I can't even recall the restaurant's name. All I can remember is his laugh caused by some filthy jokes.

He seemed more enthusiastic than ever, probably because he has just been informed that we would go on a mission together. I could tell the news surprised him, but in a positive way, as if he hoped his predicted scenario would eventually come true. And it seemed to me like it gave him a massive self-confidence boost. At times he has been insufferable, as if he wasn’t too arrogant already... The good thing was that it made him let his guard down, and I used this to my advantage, responding to each of his flirtatious comments.

Not only did I play my part well, but also I enjoyed it. And even though I really intended to improve our friendship (or should I rather call it a relationship?), I considered the fact that I could use Bond to my own ends. It's high time someone has taught this womanizer a lesson... how many women in the SIS alone did he deceive? The list's endless, but he doesn't care at all. He will break any heart without regret as they say, only because he's that *famous* James Bond. Just like that. Why on earth would he be so interested in me? Does he fancy me that much? I don't think so. And even if he does, I thought, it’s likely that he just wants to sleep with me, adding me to his collection. It's your turn, Kath. He deserves this. *You* can use him. On your own terms.

I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. Me as a ruthless adventurer? Such description didn’t suit me at all. But I felt some strange power inside of me, I heard a voice that assured me being heartless for once won't change much in my life.

The truth was, I needed us to look convincing. Not necessarily like a romantically-involved couple, but as passionate lovers. Just in case my plan to get Mallory went wrong, I could always leave the Service after a "whirlwind” affair with James Bond.

Of course I never wanted to leave the Service in the first place, not after I just have been promoted to the double-0 section, not after one of my biggest dreams came true, but... my feelings for Mallory kept getting stronger and stronger every day... until I finally realized I *had* to take chances...

After the dinner both Bond and I went back to the SIS building and visited Q in his "office”. We were given some standard equipment: a brand-new tracking device and cyanide pills. And, of course, we left the meeting armed ("And the guns, just in case. A direct order from M") - me with a Walther P99, and Bond with a Beretta 418.

We examined the guns, while Q kept browsing through some documents on his desk.

“Yeah, I think... That’s all I have for you,” he said, scratching his head.

Bond looked at Q in disapproval.

“That’s all? Not exactly Christmas, is it?”

“Were you expecting an exploding pen? We don’t really go in for that anymore,” remarked Q. “And besides... you won’t need this kind of stuff this time. But the guns are always a good idea. The ones here are the best we’ve got right now... all for our best agents.”

“I love you too, Q,” said Bond with a smirk.

“Oh, don’t mind him, Q,” I dragged in. “He’s unbearable recently,” I added, looking pityingly at Bond.

“I’m afraid he’s always been like that, you just don’t know him long enough, Kath,” replied Q and burst into laughter. “It was great to see you both.”

“Thanks, Q. You’re the best!” I exclaimed when Bond bundled me through the door.

...

We took the elevator and planned our next move. Bond promised to hand me the mission’s files the next day, so he could have enough time to go through them. We would meet in three days’ time at the airport and travel together to Monte Carlo.

I stepped into my office to check the documents I had signed earlier. I also made a call to Eve, as I didn't want to meet her in her office and cause any suspicions about my frequent visits there.

I lied down on the couch next to the window and dialed the Eve’s private number. I preferred to avoid using the SIS phone line.

"Eve... it's Kath. Do you have a minute?"

"Yes, Kath, what is it?" she answered. "You left so quickly... I immediately began to wonder what your gesture did mean..."

"Well... I'm sure you know.”

"Yeah... the thought had occurred to me," Eve chuckled. "I'll see what I can do. But finding out *anything* about *him* is definitely not going to be easy. He’s the most enigmatic man in the Service."

"What’s it to you? I will owe you one if you prove my point," I promised her, trying to sound charming.

"Alright, alright," replied Eve. "You know I’d help you anyway... Listen, you'd better be sure about this... I guess it means you put it all on the line... for him?"

I got lost in my own thoughts for a while, suddenly realizing all the consequences. I stood up, went to the bookcase, and started to read what was written on the books’ covers.

"I guess it does... It's everything or nothing."

It took Eve a moment to respond.

"I will always have your back, Kath... but... You should seriously consider this... it could cost you your career..."

"I know, Eve,” I stammered quietly. “I just can't pretend any longer..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Kath", said Eve. "I've got to go. M needs me. We’ll talk about it later, I promise. Now I have to go."

As soon as I have hanged up, I understood that I had placed myself in a truly risky situation. In the end, I could never get Mallory... but I could easily throw away my future instead. If I was a more rational person I could seduce James Bond and live happily ever after with him as the most dangerous pair of the double-0s you'd ever met.

I've been wondering why M sends us on a mission together. Is that a test for both of us, so Mallory could see if we can cooperate despite being attracted to each other? Does he expect us to reconcile professional and private life? Anyway, I was aware of the fact that whatever happens during this mission, it would have a major impact on both my career and my relationships with Bond and Mallory.

...

I left the office after half an hour. I was standing on the corridor with the keys in my hand, when someone hugged me from behind and kissed me on the neck.

"002 is still at work, huh? What James Bond could do to make her let him... drive her home?" Bond whispered gently into my ear. His voice was smooth and very sexy.

"James," I said, trying to lock the door and free myself from his embrace. "You can't just do this in public. What will people say when they..."

The touch of Bond’s lips made me shiver, as they slowly moved from my neck to the collarbone.

"There’s no one here... and I asked... what he... could do... to make her... let him... drive her... home..." he murmured.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Bond continued to caress my waist and holded onto me. He was so close I could smell his perfume and feel his slightest move.

"Just a few more... um... kissess... and I'm sure she'll agree," I moaned with delight.

I haven’t been entirely honest with Bond. His touch was very pleasant, but not as pleasant as I kept telling him.

“Just be careful and don’t make my shirt wrinkled...”

I opened my eyes and then I've seen Mallory who was watching us from around the corner. He spoke to one of the male double-0s I barely knew. Damn, he looks dashing in this red tie, but I’m sure this man could wear *anything* and would still catch my eye, I thought. He has a pretty good figure for a man at his age... even with his arm in a sling.

"Let go of me, James," I said nervously, trying to turn around. "That was wonderful, but we can't really behave like this... here."

Bond didn’t loosen his grip, sensing the changes in my mood.

“What is it?”

“It’s Mallory,” I huffed. “He’s seen us.”

“So what?” asked Bond when I nailed my eyes on Mallory. “Is he still looking...?” Bond whispered and kissed me on the neck two more times.

I couldn’t stand being watched by Mallory when Bond kept kissing me, so I turned my head to Bond and kissed him on the lips. He was so surprised he allowed me to turn around, and then I finally broke the grip.

“You don’t waste time, do you? Our last meeting wasn’t that... steamy. What business is it of yours, James?”

“I’m your fictional husband, remember? I need to stay in character,” he answered with a smirk on his face.

I rolled my eyes.

“Katherine, didn’t we agree to start from scratch? Let’s say I’m trying to show you my best side... And that includes showing you... a few tricks I know.”

“That’s really impressive,” I replied. “But you’re mistaken if you think I will fall into bed with you in Monte Carlo. Casual flirt isn’t enough to get me,” I assured him, smiling provocatively.

“Is that so? You know what kind of things happen when two attactive agents go on a mission together...”

“I have no idea,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets.

“But you’re dying to find out,” he commented at winked at me.

I shook my head and sighed.

“James, you’re so terrible sometimes...”

“I’ll stop being terrible if you let me drive you home,” he said and took my hands in his. “I promise!”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, now you’re blackmailing me?”

Bond squeezed my hands.

“Can I drive you home or not?”

I came closer to him and straightened his tie.

“Sure you can. It seems that I don’t need my own car anymore...”

"Perfect," he said in his deep voice and grabbed me by the hand. “Let’s go!”

"Oh, James. Uhm... I have to get a few things from Amanda’s office,” I lied, as I didn’t want to be seen by Mallory leaving the building with Bond.

"Alright, do it quick. I'll wait for you downstairs,” he leaned in and lowered his voice. “And Katherine... pay no attention to Mallory. I can see what’s going on here... he doesn’t care. The sooner you understand it, the better.”

Damn, I thought. He can be really bossy when he wants someting, and what is even worse, he really wants *someting* from me... He thinks it’s me who deceives myself, but the truth is, he is way more deceived than I am. Over my dead body I’ll forget about Mallory! And I use the word *damn* way too often recently...

"I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stated and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh, you do,” said Bond quietly. “You may think he’s a better choice than me... but I will make you mine. You underestimate how much I like a challenge...” he added and gently touched my arm. “Don’t be long,” he whispered.

As soon as Bond has taken the elevator, I saw Mallory walking towards me. The thought of unexpected conversation with my supervisor made me blush, so I quickly turned my back on him, pretending to lock the door to my office. I hoped that he would just pass by.

"002..."

"Sir,” I responded, turning around.

"... why are you still here? You should go home and get some rest before the flight. To get a few days off is a rare occurence in this business."

"I just wanted to make sure I signed all the papers, sir," I replied, staring into his eyes. “I always find it hard to leave this place.”

"It’s totally understandable, but you’ll be back in no time.”

I didn’t say a word, I just smiled mildly and nodded. Mallory tilted his head.

“You wonder *why* I send you and Bond on a mission together, don’t you?”

“Actually I do, sir.“

He bored into me.

“The answer’s simple. You two look like a real, *charming* couple... judging by the way you both *enjoy* to go undercover,” mocked Mallory.

“Oh, but it only looks that way, sir,” I replied nervously. “We make some effort to look the part. It’s easier this way.”

“I’m sure it is,” Mallory commented curtly. “But the thing is that fictional husbands don’t have to always behave like gentlemen,” he added and looked at my wrinkled collar.

I got embarassed after he had said that.

“Go home, Katherine, you deserve to rest,” he said calmly. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said, watching him turn around and walking down the corridor.

I looked at my wristwatch. It’s time to go, Bond waits for me... but first I have to calm down a bit, I thought. I felt my heart racing in my chest. It seems that Bond’s kisses can’t make me feel even half of those things that a short conversation with Mallory can... but it doesn’t mean the current state of affairs will last forever. It’s something I know all too well.

Monte Carlo, here I come.

***

To be continued.

#fanfiction #james bond fanfiction #katherine mallory #gareth mallory #m #james bond #bond james bond #q #miss moneypenny #007 #002 #thunderball title song quote #skyfall quote

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maddrmatt · 3 years

Text

Kairi’s Epic Journey: The Quest for Sora

New to this fanfic? Click here to properly begin!

Chapter 13: Kairi vs. Hook

Never Land

“What is this? Has me hostage come to surrender herself? I must commend you on making a wise choice,” said Hook as Kairi climbed up to his level.

“I’m not surrendering, Captain Hook. I’ve come to fight you myself,” said Kairi.

“You?!” exclaimed Hook with surprise.

“Yes. You, Hook, are the latest in a too long list of villains who have tried to use me to get at Sora and now you are going to answer for that!” declared Kairi pointing at the captain.

Hook laughed mockingly. “You cannot be serious, my dear. How in all of Never Land could you expect to best me, the most dreaded pirate to ever sail the seven seas?”

Then they heard Smee call out from his place on the mast, “Captain! There’s something you must know about her! She has a…”

Before Smee could finish his statement, Kairi provided the end herself. To Hook’s shock, she summoned Destiny’s Embrace to her hand.

“A Keyblade?!” exclaimed Hook.

“Surprised, Hook? You said that you learned I had come to Never Land when you investigated a fireball that came from Mermaid Lagoon. It just so happens that I was the one who cast that spell when the mermaids were playing too rough with me. Never occurred to you, did it?” asked Kairi with sly smile on her face.

Hook shook off his shock and regained his composure. “I had a hard time believing that whatever forces bestow those weapons on their wielders would choose someone like your friend Sora. But that you would have one yourself? The idea is as ridiculous as the design of your Keyblade.”

“And just what is wrong with the design of my Keyblade?” asked Kairi in an offended tone.

“Plenty I’m afraid. The flowery design practically tells me that of all the Keyblade wielders I’ve met, you are probably the last person who should have one,” taunted Hook.

With every continuing second in his presence, Kairi was growing more displeased with the pirate. ‘How dare he not only insult my Keyblade but also insist that I should never have gotten the ability to wield it in the first place. But I’ll show him. Even though Aqua may have given me the ability to wield it by accident, I will prove that I am worthy of it.’

“I think we’ve talked long enough. Shall we get on with the fight now?” asked Kairi.

“Very well. If you’ve a taste for cold steel, then I shall not deny you it any longer. Insolent girl, prepare to meet thy doom!” shouted Hook as he charged at Kairi who charged at him at the same time.

In an instant, Kairi’s Keyblade and Hook’s sword clashed in a loud clang that echoed throughout the entire ship. Their duel had finally begun.

As they moved around the deck of the Jolly Roger, the pirate captain slashed at her with his sword. Kairi blocked every blow that came at her with her Keyblade.

In addition to Hook’s sword, she also had to watch out for his hook. Often when their weapons were crossed, Hook would swipe it at her head although she was able to duck and avoid it every time. Between the two different weapons, Kairi found herself unable to get an attack of her own in.

‘Peter wasn’t kidding when he said that Hook was a more difficult opponent than his crew. He’s great not only with his sword but also using that hook. What I would give to be able to dual wield like Sora or Roxas. That would really come in handy during this fight,’ thought Kairi as she continued to protect herself from Hook’s attacks.

“Give it to her, captain! Cleave her to the brisket!” called out Smee.

As she fought, Kairi realized that she was at a tremendous disadvantage against the pirate compared to when Sora had fought him. Hook may have been a more mundane foe compared to the likes of Jafar, Ursula or the many powerful Heartless her friend had fought and defeated. But when Sora had faced Hook, he not only had the help of Donald, Goofy and Peter, but he had also learned how to fly.

Kairi was almost tempted to call out for Peter and the others’ help against the pirate. But then she remembered why she had chosen to face Hook alone.

‘This battle may be tough. But there may be tougher ones ahead and if I can’t even win this fight, then I have no right to be on this journey. For Sora, I must win!’

“Is this really the best you can do? Because if it is, I’m sorely disappointed,” taunted Hook.

Kairi racked her brain trying to think of strategy. ‘If I can’t get through with regular attacks, maybe some magic will help. I could try the same trick I did when I was fighting the other pirate and this time, I won’t hold back as much.’

After Hook’s latest attack, Kairi rolled away from him. Upon recovery, she pointed her Keyblade upward and shouted, “Thunder!”

A Thunder spell emitted from the tip of Destiny’s Embrace and shot toward Hook’s sword. But to her dismay, the pirate simply dodged to the side and avoided the blast.

“Thought you could catch this captain off guard with a little magic, did you? Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you, my dear. I’ve made it a point to keep me eye out for any magic tricks you Keyblade wielders may try to use. An Eton educated mind such as meself knows how to learn from previous defeats,” said Hook as he resumed his attack on Kairi.

‘How am I going to win this fight? He’s too good a swordsman so I can’t get a physical attack in and he’s also on the watch for my magic attacks. If only I could summon that power that I saved Toodles with. But I still have no idea how I did that in the first place.’

On the sidelines, Peter and the others watched Kairi and Hook’s duel. So far, no victory for either seemed imminent. But it did seem that Hook had the upper hand.

“Can’t we just help her, Pan?” asked Slightly with the rest of the Lost Boys, Tink, and Pluto nodding in agreement.

“No. We gave our word. We’ll only help her if she asks for it or if it looks like she’s going to lose. And right now, neither of those has happened,” said Peter.

“But she’s not winning either!” pointed out the Twins.

“Yeah. She needs us!” exclaimed Cubby.

“Right now, what Kairi needs is our faith and trust and we’re going to make sure she has it. I may not like it. But I’m choosing to believe in our friend, and you should too. Right?,” asked Peter.

The others said nothing. But simply nodded.

Peter then turned his attention back to the fight. ‘I know you can win this, Kairi. Just believe in yourself like we believe in you!’

Suddenly, the duel took an unexpected turn. Taking advantage of an opening, Hook plowed into Kairi and pushed her backwards. He pinned her up against a wall and held his sword against her throat.

Kairi struggled to get free. ‘No! No! I can’t lose this!’

“This duel is over, and the victory is mine! I wish I could say that you provided me with some mild entertainment, my dear. But, in all honesty, I find your skills with that Keyblade of yours to be quite lacking. As I said before, it was clearly a mistake of its behalf to ever consider someone like you worthy. You’re nothing like Sora or any of the other wielders I’ve faced in battle and you never will be!”

Kairi gave a defiant look to the pirate. “You’re wrong, Hook! No matter how long it takes, I will prove that I am worthy of my Keyblade. And when I bring Sora back, then I’ll know for sure that I am!”

“A bold declaration. But unfortunately, you are not long for this world. Farewell, Kairi. When you see Sora on the other side, tell him that Captain James Hook is responsible for reuniting you with him,” said Hook as he raised his namesake in preparation to use it on the princess.

But before he could finish Kairi off, Tink suddenly darted in front of his face. Reaching up, she grabbed the brim of his hat and pulled it down over his eyes.

“Blasted fairy!” he yelled as he blindly swiped his Hook in wild strokes at Tink who dodged every one of them.

Thanks to Tink’s intervention, Hook’s grip on Kari had loosened. Wasting no time, she crouched downward just as a wild swipe from Hook came down and embedded his hook in the wall right where her head had been.

Hook dropped his sword and pulled his hat back. When he saw where his hook had ended up, he bellowed, “Blast this hook!”

While Hook fought to free himself, Kairi shot a grateful smile to Tink who was now flying right beside her. “Thanks, Tink. You really helped me out there,” she said causing the fairy to smile back as she flew back to the others.

Kairi then looked over to where Peter, the Lost Boys and Pluto had been watching the duel. They looked like they wanted to know if they were going to be allowed to help her now.

‘That was a pretty close call. Maybe I should let them help me out now.’

Kairi was about to call to them. But then her attention was diverted as she listened to Hook’s angry rants as he continued to try and pull his hook free.

An idea surged through her mind. ‘Maybe I can turn this fight to my advantage after all,’ realized Kairi as a sly smile came to her face.

Finally, Hook pulled himself free. After brushing the wood remains off of his hook, he picked up his sword and turned around to face Kairi.

“You should have taken advantage of me temporary incapacitation and fled, girl!”

“Now why would I want to do that, Hook? We still have a duel to finish,” said Kairi in a smug tone.

“Don’t think that fairy’s meddling is going to have any affect on the outcome at all! One way or another, I will triumph!” declared Hook.

At that point, Kairi and Hook resumed their duel. But now she had a plan and was about to put it into action.

“You know, Hook, your whole revenge plot against Sora; it’s kind of pointless. Why seek payback against someone you never had a chance of beating in the first place?” asked Kairi as they crossed weapons again.

A flash of anger crossed Hook’s eyes. “What was that?!”

‘Aha! I see I struck a nerve in him. Let’s see if I can strike even more.’

“Let’s think about this logically. Before Sora even arrived in Never Land, he had already fought and defeated a whole lot worse than you. He beat an all-powerful genie, a gigantic sea witch and many strong varieties of Heartless just to name a few. Compared to all of that, a one-handed pirate really is the least threatening opponenet.”

“Silence!” roared Hook.

“The hard truth, Hook, is that you were never a true threat to Sora at all. And if he were here now, it would just have the same result as every single fight you’ve had with Peter: you’d lose!” said Kairi.

Peter had overheard everything Kairi had just told Hook and a smile came to his face. ‘That’s it, Kairi! Get him mad! It’s never been too hard to do!’

“Look at Hook!” exclaimed Nibs.

“He’s getting pretty steamed!” exclaimed Slightly.

Indeed, Kairi’s taunts had turned the pirate captain into a volcano on the verge of eruption. Hook’s face was reddened with anger. If it were possible, steam could have been coming out of his ears.

“Pay attention, men! This is when the fun really begins,” said Peter.

“I’LL SHOW YOU JUST HOW THREATENING I CAN BE, GIRL!” roared Hook

Losing any pretense of strategy, the enraged pirate charged at Kairi while waving his sword wildly. Kairi backed away as she avoided the pirate’s attacks.

‘That’s it, Hook. You just keep attacking wildly and just not pay any attention to what I might do,’ thought Kairi as she continued to evade Hook’s attacks.

Finally, it was time to make her move. Kairi stopped in her tracks. But before Hook could hit her with his sword, she raised her Keyblade and shouted “Defense!”

A protective barrier conjured around Kairi just as Hook’s sword made contact. When it struck the barrier, he was immediately blown backward by the knockback effect of the Reflect magic.

Taking advantage of Hook’s momentary disorientation, Kairi charged at the pirate. Aiming at his sword, she swung her Keyblade upward and knocked it out of his hand. The sword flew over the side of the ship and splashed down in the water.

Hook stared at his hand. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. But he had no time to react as Kairi charged in.

Now that her opponent was partially disarmed, Kairi unleashed a flurry of attacks on Hook with her Keyblade. He grunted in pain from each strike. They were almost as wild as his own enraged ones. But Kairi took care to only attack with the flat of her Keyblade as she didn’t want to seriously hurt or mortally wound him.

Finally, she backed off and looked the pirate over. He had taken so much punishment from her that he looked like he could collapse at anytime.

“Had enough, Hook?”

Hook shook off his exhaustion and growled in anger. He charged at Kairi with his hook raised.

But before he could strike her with it, Kairi raised her Keyblade. To his surprise, she caught the hook in the teeth part of it.

“I guess not. You know, you really ought to watch that temper of yours. It’ll only get you into trouble like this, for example,” she said as she summoned all her strength and pulled Hook off his balance. She swung him around her and then slammed him face first into one of the masts.

Kairi unsummoned her Keyblade and pumped her fist. “Yes! I can’t believe that worked!”

Hook pulled away from the mast. He now had a goofy grin on his face and started to stumble around the deck while babbling incoherently.

“Captain! Wake up or you’re going to lose the fight!” shouted Smee.

“Peter! Pluto! Tink! Boys!” called Kairi causing everyone to run up to her. All of them looked confused.

“Why are you calling us now, Kairi?” asked Peter.

“Yeah, you were doing so very good on your own,” said Cubby.

“I know I was. But I think this fight’s gone on long enough and it’s time to end it. And what better way to finish a fight than for all of us to do it together?” asked Kairi causing everyone’s eyes to light up with excitement.

“You mean that?” asked Slightly.

“Of course. After all, he’s your enemy. Wouldn’t be right to not let you get a few shots in. So, what do you say? Would you all care to help me finish him off?”

In response, Peter and the boys cheered, Tink tinkled and Pluto barked. They were all on board.

“Sounds like fun, Kairi. So, how are we going to finish off the old codfish?” asked Peter.

“Glad you asked. What I have in mind is a little something I’d like to call Team Attack: Eternal Youth. Everyone here has a small but important part to play in it. Once I tell each of you your parts, you’ll all get into position and await my command. If we pull this off, we should defeat Hook in the one of the most spectacular ways he’s ever been beaten. But let’s hurry or he’ll recover before I have the chance to tell all of you what you need to do,” said Kairi as she gathered everyone into a huddle.

As the group conversed, Smee, still up in his spot on the mast, put a hand to his ear in an attempt to listen to what they were saying. But then Pluto flashed him an angry look causing him to pull his hat over his eyes and plug his ears with his fingers.

________________________________________________________________

A short while later, a splash of water hit Hook in the face. He sputtered as he snapped out of his daze. Once he regained his composure, he angrily looked around for Kairi.

To his surprise, there was no sign of her, Peter or any of their friends. There was only an empty bucket in front of him, which clearly had been used to wake him. But there was no sign of who had used it.

“Where did they all go?”

“Now, everybody!” called Kairi’s voice startling Hook whose eyes darted around in search of her location.

“Captain! Look out!” called Smee.

“Huh? YEOW!” shouted Hook as Pluto bit him in the rear.

Pluto let go just as Hook whirled around and shot an angry look at the dog. “Scurvy cur!”

Suddenly, from the sides came Cubby and Nibs. Cubby slammed his club onto Hook’s right foot while, at the same time, Nibs smacked his wooden sword on Hook’s left knee causing him to scream in pain.

Next, from behind, the Twins used their blowguns and shot Hook’s hat clear off his head. At the same time, Slightly used what appeared to be a cross between a slingshot and a rifle to fire a stone into Hook’s back. The captain’s screams increased.

After that, Toodles ran in front of Hook. Capping off the Lost Boys’ attack, he shot a small stone into Hook’s forehead using a slingshot. After that, he and the rest of the Lost Boys ran away from the screaming pirate.

After a few moments, Hook recovered from the pain only to see Tink flying toward his face. Pulling back her leg, she thrust it forward and kicked Hook in the chin. She then started making goofy faces at the pirate.

“Accursed pixie!” shouted Hook as he raised his hook.

Suddenly, Peter flew above Hook holding Kairi by her sides. Once again, she snared the hook in the teeth of her Keyblade.

“Hang on tight, Hook! You’re coming for a ride!” exclaimed Peter as Hook was yanked right off the deck and into the air.

Dragging the screaming pirate behind them, Kairi and Peter quickly flew in circles around the ship. They went for at least ten revolutions before they finally stopped.

Kairi smiled down at the pirate dangling from her Keyblade. “Did you enjoy your ride, Hook?”

“Wretched wench! Release me immediately” yelled Hook.

Kairi traded a knowing look with Peter. “Is that what you really want?”

“Yes. I demand you release me this instant!”

“Whatever you say, Hook,” said Kairi with a shrug of her shoulders as she unsummoned her Keyblade and released him.

Hook fell screaming downward. He landed on his rear end right on the plank. The plank bent under the captain’s weight, then sprang upward sending him into the air and eventually splashing down in the water.

Peter brought Kairi back to the deck of the Jolly Roger and they ran to the edge of the ship. Pluto, Tink and the Lost Boys gathered around them. Leaning on the railing, they all laughed as they watched Hook struggle to stay afloat.

“Always nice to see a codfish back in the water where he belongs!” exclaimed Peter causing everyone else to laugh.

“I’ll get you for this, Pan! And you too, Kairi! If it’s the last thing I do!” yelled Hook.

Kairi turned to Peter and asked, “How many times have you heard that before?”

“Eh too many to count. But I never get tired of hearing it,” said Peter.

“Mark me words! You both will pay! And Sora will too! And those other Keyblade Wielders I tangled with long ago!” ranted Hook from the water.

Hook’s last statement brought a look of surprise to Kairi’s face. ‘I really need to learn what Terra, Aqua and Ven were up to when they came here.’

Tick-tock.

Peter’s grin got wider. “I say, Captain? Do you hear something?”

Hook scoffed. “If you believe that I will fall for your childish tricks twice in the same day, you are sorely mistaken!”

The group on the Jolly Roger said nothing. But knowing smiles were on the faces of Peter, Tink and the Lost Boys. Kairi, however, had an expression that almost looked concerned.

Then Hook realized something: the ticking was not coming from any of them. In fact, it was coming from right behind him.

Hook slowly turned himself around and let out a scream of horror. Directly behind him, wearing a hungry grin on his toothy mouth, was the crocodile.

“Smee!” cried out Hook as the giant reptile lunged at him with his mouth opened wide.

“I’ll save you, Captain!” shouted Smee’s voice.

Everyone turned around and saw that Smee had finally climbed down off the mast. He rushed toward one of the lifeboats and lowered it to the water.

As everyone watched from the Jolly Roger, Hook swiftly swam away from the ship toward the horizon with the crocodile snapping at his heels. Smee rowed as quickly as he could to catch up to them.

“He’ll be okay, will he, Peter?” asked Kairi who, in spite of everything Hook had done to her, didn’t wish for him to become a meal for the crocodile.

“He’ll be fine. This happens all the time to him and he always gets away. But Kairi, you shouldn’t worry too much about it. Instead, let’s talk about how amazing you were!” exclaimed Peter.

Suddenly, Kairi felt an unusual weight on top of her head. She looked up and saw Hook’s hat. She turned around and saw that the Twins and Toodles had climbed onto each other’s shoulders to place it on her head.

“Hooray for Captain Kairi!” cried out Peter and the Lost Boys among Tink’s joyful tinkling and Pluto’s barking.

Now that the battle against Hook and his pirates was over, Kairi finally took in what she had just accomplished. ‘I just can’t believe it. I did it. I actually fought a bad guy and won!’

As she gazed out toward the horizon and listened to the adoring cheers of her friends, the Princess of Heart felt proud of herself for the first time in a long time.

________________________________________________________________

Onto the next chapter!

#kingdom hearts #kh fanfiction #sokai #captain hook #kairi #mr. smee #peter pan #tinker bell #lost boys #pluto #crocodile #maddrmatt

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46ten · 4 years

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AH: marriage and military service should not mix

The summary of this post: A lot of historians have noted how important AH’s marriage to EH was to his future, a true before and after marker in his life. But the strangeness of it has gotten less attention - AH married while the war was going on, and even wrote of not hanging around the army at all in order to setup for his life with his new wife. Once one sees the oddity of that, a lot of other things fall into place in his 1780/81 letters.

For the past few years, I’ve wanted to work more on the theory that although marriage was generally expected of the 18th century Anglo-American colonial man (see prior posts here and here), the elite in AH’s circle did not marry until their military obligations and other duties were complete. From their examples and a few phrases here and there, getting married seemed to have been frowned upon, perhaps because of the uncomfortable examples of general’s wives and this idea that romantic love with a woman was a weakness that interfered with duty and hindered one’s commitment to military glory. (I am familiar with the challenges faced by Martha Washington, Catharine Greene, and Lucy Knox; Philip Schuyler refused a return to military assignment and presidency of the Continental Congress after the death of a newborn, among other things, in 1778). AH is an exception among his circle, with Meade, in getting married during the war itself - nearly everyone else who is unmarried waits until after their military service is complete (and sometimes well after) to marry. Not enough is made of the oddity of his courtship and marriage, within his circle, while the war is ongoing.

Now to modern thought, the title of this post makes a lot of sense - relationships are often strained when one partner is in military service, and the hows and whys are very familiar to us. But for the 18th century, when adult manhood was tied to matrimony, avoiding matrimony seems odd, as does the length of some of the courtships of AH’s friends: two years for William Jackson, about the same for Tilghman, four years of flirtation for McHenry. At a time when engagements lasted a matter of weeks (and AH notes that his own is unusually long - it’s lasting “an age” in one of his letters to ES), the delay in taking the next step is notable. Even in the prior generation, although Philip Schuyler was sexually intimate with Catharine Van Rensselaer, he continued his military service and did not marry her until it became unavoidable by decency standards (CVR was 4 months pregnant).

So what’s with AH and ES wanting to get married in such a hurry, comparatively, besides the obvious emotional ones? Maybe he really was 26-27 years old and time was running out! Another obvious possibility, noted then and noted by biographers since, was the benefits of their marriage on a personal and political dynastic level. @aswithasunbeam has noted a contemporary article (sourced from Mitchell) about what Philip Schuyler had to gain through the new attachment between himself and Washington’s aide-de-camp. (And look how quickly P. Schuyler had AH working to get GW to visit them.) The advantages for AH were obvious to, as the Marquis de Fleury stated outright to AH: “ I congratulate you heartyly on that conquest; for many Reasons: the first that you will get all that familly’s interest, & that a man of your abilities wants a Little influence to do good to his country. The second that you, will be in a very easy situation, & happin’s is not to be found without a Large estate.”

I also suspect part of AH’s decision to hurriedly marry was tied to getting a command and spending the rest of his time studying the law.* I agree with most biographers that he never takes the steps of leaving Washington’s family and asking for (Nov 1780) and then demanding (June 1781) a command without being Philip Schuyler’s son-in-law. (I also think the break with GW doesn’t happen without AH feeling VERY confident in his relationship with his new wife. EH should have been a better patriot - as in other times - and seemed less happy in her marriage, or at least not let AH read her letter to her sister.) I think that’s what Laurens knew while on parole in Phil. and causes the minor flurry of letters in late August/September 1780, when P. Schuyler was briefly at HQ and then sending lots of letters about Congress to GW, AH was going on about his planned six month leave, McHenry was writing a love poem about AH and ES and trying to get AH to get P. Schuyler’s help in getting him a command, etc . AH and ES likely intended to marry in October/early November, but both Meade and Harrison took leave instead, and AH had to stay, though he would leave in late November before their return (in fact, Harrison and Meade never returned.)

Take Laurens (left wife and daughter he’d never see in England) and Lafayette (absent from France from March 1777 to Feb 1779 and March 1780 to early 1782). Both of them left wife and child(ren) behind, and here AH was planning a long absence from military service and telling his fiancee that he’ll leave it entirely if that’s her wish. AND Meade is discussing doing exactly that! [So Laurens presumably wrote to AH - we don’t have that letter - that he hopes AH will get over this quickly, and AH wrote back that he won’t, but I’m getting ahead of myself.]

I offered to make a comparison of AH’s letters to Laurens vs Elizabeth Schuyler - while revealing of personal feelings, in content and expression they are more different than they are similar - but I think I first need to set up that major transition that’s occurring in AH’s life in 1780/81. To the extent Laurens may have objected to AH’s excitement about ES and their impending nuptials (and there’s only one phrase in one letter, and that from AH to Laurens, from which it can be interpreted that those were Laurens’ feelings), and AH felt embarrassed about conveying the news of his engagement, it was because it interfered with a (believed to be mutual) sense of military obligation and public duty and dismissal of marriage and its attendant obligations. I touch on it in a response here; I’ll try to elaborate on it in upcoming posts. [I will get into why this makes the most sense, and why claims of AH trying to spare any romantic feelings JL may have felt, quite frankly, do not make sense in a later post. Spoiler: AH wrote absurdly callous stuff re ES and his relationship with her in his letters to JL if he was hoping to spare JL’s feelings.]

I already put some of my thoughts on this in old posts that may have some helpful content and may spare me having to repeat myself too much, and then I’ll also provide some quotes from letters to get started, limited to 1777-1782 and then probably the most famous quote from 1799.

Hamilton on marriage part 1 (overview)

Hamilton on marriage part 2 (feelings on marriage 1777-early 1780)

Hamilton-Schuyler engagement (early 1780-mid 1780)

Hamilton on marriage part 3 (my breakdown of the July-Oct 1780 letters to ES)

Hamilton on marriage part 4

Reynolds Pamphlet, part 2

And a post (not my own) about how much AH’s military involvement as Inspector General was affecting his family financially.

Letter quotes [my emphases]:

You and I, as well as our neighbours, are deeply interested to pray for victory, and its necessary attendant peace; as, among other good effects, they would remove those obstacles, which now lie in the way of that most delectable thing, called matrimony;—a state, which, with a kind of magnetic force, attracts every breast to it, in which sensibility has a place, in spite of the resistance it encounters in the dull admonitions of prudence, which is so prudish and perverse a dame, as to be at perpetual variance with it. AH to Catharine “Kitty” Livingston 11Apr1777

Do I want a wife? No—I have plagues enough without desiring to add to the number that greatest of all; and if I were silly enough to do it, I should take care how I employ a proxy. AH to John Laurens 1779 [likely from mid-April up to July - this letter is actually undated, and the April date is based on other mentions in the letter; both JCH and Lodge dated it December 1779]

The most determined adversaries of Hymen can find in [ES] no pretext for their hostility, and there are several of my friends, philosophers who railed at love as a weakness, men of the world who laughed at it as a phantasie, whom she has presumptuously and daringly compelled to acknowlege its power and surrender at discretion. I can the better assert the truth of this, as I am myself of the number. She has had the address to overset all the wise resolutions I had been framing for more than four years past, and from a rational sort of being and a professed contemner of Cupid has in a trice metamorphosed me into the veriest inamorato you perhaps ever saw. AH to Margarita Schuyler, Feb1780

I would add to this by way of consolation, or rather of countinance, that the family since your departure have given hourly proofs of a growing weakness. Example I verily believe is infectious. For such a predominancy is beauty establishing over their hearts, that should things continue to wear as sweet an aspect as they are now beheld in, I shall be the only person left, of the whole household, to support the dignity of human nature. But in good earnest, God bless both you, and your weakness, and preserve me your sincere friend James McHenry to AH, 18March1780 [this was during the time of AH’s courtship of ES]

Here we are my love in a house of great hospitality—in a country of plenty—a buxom girl under the same roof—pleasing ⟨expect⟩ations of a successful campaign—and every thing to make a soldier happy, who is not in love and absent from his mistress. ... Assure yourself my love that you are seldom a moment absent from my mind, that I think of you constantly and talk of you frequently, I am never happier than when I can engage Meade in some solitary walk to join me in reciprocating the praises of his widow and my betsey. AH to ES, 6July1780

I hope for a decisive campaign. No one will desire it more than me; for a military life is now grown insupportable to me because it keeps me from all my soul holds dear. Adieu My love. Write to me often I entreat you, and do not suffer any part of my treasure, your sweet love, to be lost or stolen from me. AH to ES, 20Jul1780

Impatiently My Dearest have I been expecting the return of your father to bring me a letter from my charmer with the answers you have been good enough to promise me to the little questions asked in mine by him. ... Meade2 just comes in and interrupts me by sending his love to you. He tells you he has written a long letter to his widow asking her opinion of the propriety of quitting the service; and that if she does not disapprove it, he will certainly take his final leave after the campaign. You see what a fine opportunity she has to be enrolled in the catalogue of heroines, and I dare say she will set you an example of fortitude and patriotism. I know too you have so much of the Portia in you, that you will not be out done in this line by any of your sex, and that if you saw me inclined to quit the service of your country, you would dissuade me from it. I have promised you, you recollect, to conform to your wishes, and I persist in this intention. It remains with you to show whether you are a Roman or an American wife. AH to ES, Aug1780

But now my love to speak of the practicability of complying with both our wishes in this article—There is none, I am obliged to sacrifice my inclination to ⟨my public⟩ ch⟨aracter.⟩ Even though my presence shou⟨ld n⟩ot be essential here, yet my love I could not with decency or honor leave the army during the campaign. This is a military prejudice which while I am in a military station I must comply with. No person has been more severe than I have been in condemning other officers for deviating from it. I have admitted no excuse as sufficient, and I must not now evince to the army, that the moment my circumstances have changed, my maxims have changed also. This would be an inconsistency, and my Betsey would not have me guilty of an inconsistency. Besides this my Betsey, The General is peculiarly averse to the practice in question. If this campaign is to end my military services, ’tis an additional reason for a constant and punctual attendance, if it is not my leaving the army during the campaign would make it less proper to be away all the winter ’till late in the spring. In one case, my honor bids me stay, in the other my love. AH to ES, 31Aug1780

Pardon me my love for talking politics to you. What have we to do with any thing but love? Go the world as it will, in each others arms we cannot but be happy. ...I was once determined to let my existence and American liberty end together. My Betsey has given me a motive to outlive my pride, I had almost said my honor; but America must not be witness to my disgrace. AH to ES, 6Sept1780

I have told you, and I told you truly that I love you too much. You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. ‘Tis a pretty story indeed that I am to be thus monopolized, by a little nut-brown maid like you—and from a statesman and a soldier metamorphosed into a puny lover. I believe in my soul you are an inchantress; but I have tried in vain, if not to break, at least, to weaken the charm—you maintain your empire in spite of all my efforts—and after every new one, I make to withdraw myself from my allegiance my partial heart still returns and clings to you with increased attachment. To drop figure my lovely girl you become dearer to me every moment. I am more and more unhappy and impatient under the hard necessity that keeps me from you, and yet the prospect lengthens as I advance. AH to ES, 5Oct1780

I would not have you imagine Miss that I write to you so often either to gratify your wishes or to please your vanity; but merely to indulge myself and to comply with that restless propensity of my mind, which will not allow me to be happy when I am not doing something in which you are concerned. This may seem a very idle disposition in a philosopher and a soldier; but I can plead illustrious examples in my justification. Achilles had liked to have sacrificed Greece and his glory to his passion for a female captive; and Anthony lost the world for a woman. I am sorry the times are so changed as to oblige me to summon antiquity for my apology, but I confess, to the disgrace of the present age, that I have not been able to find many who are as far gone as myself in such laudable zeal for the fair sex. AH to ES, 13Oct1780

How often have I with Eloisa exclaimed against those forms which I now revere as calculated to knit our union together by new and stronger bands...Meade already begins to recant. I have received a letter from him on the Journey2 in which he tells me he finds he must return to the army. This will be a new proof to you that I cannot leave it, as we both so ardently desire. AH to ES, 27Oct1780

You possess a heart that can feel for me; you have a female too that you love. I was reduced at one period to entreat, threat, kiss, but all to no purpose; her fears were for my safety, mine for hers. You must imagine to make out the tragedy all that I am incapable for want of words to express. After placing her with at least Twenty other females & children at a safe distance I immediately returned, & joined the Baron about the time the Enemy left Richmond in order to render him all the aid I could being intimately acquainted with the Country for many miles in the vicinity of the Enemy & on their return down the river I left him to go in pursuit of a residence for a favorite Brother who was driven from his home & obliged to attend to his Wife & a family of little children. Was it not cruel my dear fellow that my matrimonial enjoyments should have been interrupted thus soon; not more than one month had passed when the damned invasion seperated us, & we have yet to meet again, for 60 miles divides us. You know I am a Philosoper my dr fd & prepared to meet much more serious disappointments. This gives me an opening to speak of my return to the army. I have been long wishing your advice in full on the occasion; you are acquainted with the arguments I have used in favor of my stay here. I have now but one to add to them, the experience of that happiness I ever expected to enjoy with the best of Women. She loves not less than your Betsy, & I fear could not bear a seperation. I have not however as yet thrown off the uniform, but I am inclined to believe that it must be the case. Meade to AH, 13Jan1781

I was cherishing the melancholy pleasure of thinking of the sweets I had left behind and was so long to be deprived of, when a servant from Head Quarters presented me with your letters. I feasted for some time on the sweet effusions of tenderness they contained, and my heart returned every sensation of yours. Alas my Betsey you have divested it of every other pretender and placed your image there as the sole proprietor. I struggle with an excess which I cannot but deem a weakness and endeavour to bring myself back to reason and duty. I remonstrate with my heart on the impropriety of suffering itself to be engrossed by an individual of the human race when so many millions ought to participate in its affections and in its cares. But it constantly presents you under such amiable forms as seem too well to justify its meditated desertion of the cause of country humanity, and of glory I would say, if there were not something in the sound insipid and ridiculous when compared with the sacrifices by which it is to be attained.

Indeed Betsey, I am intirely changed—changed for the worse I confess—lost to all the public and splendid passions and absorbed in you. Amiable woman! nature has given you a right to be esteemed to be cherished, to be beloved; but she has given you no right to monopolize a man, whom, to you I may say, she has endowed with qualities to be extensively useful to society. Yes my Betsey, I will encourage my reason to dispute your empire and restrain it within proper bounds, to restore me to myself and to the community. Assist me in this; reproach me for an unmanly surrender of that to love and teach me that your esteem will be the price of my acting well my part as a member of society. AH to EH, 13Jul1781

Don’t think me unkind for not talking of your making a journey to the Southward. It would put us to a thousand inconveniences and would in fact be of no avail; for while there I must be engrossed in my military duties. Heaven knows how much it costs me to make the sacrifice I do. It is too much to be torn away from the wife of my bosom from a woman I love to weakness, and who feels the same ardent passion for me. I relinquish a heaven in your arms; but let me have the happiness to reflect that they ever impatiently wait my return sacred to love and me. Give your Mama, your sisters and the whole family every assurance of the warmest affection on my part. Indeed I love them all.

Yrs. with unalterable tenderness and fidelity AH to EH, 25Aug1781

Early in November, as I promised you, we shall certainly meet. Cheer yourself with this idea, and with the assurance of never more being separated. Every day confirms me in the intention of renouncing public life, and devoting myself wholly to you. AH to EH, 6Sept1781

My heart disposed to gayety is at once melted into tenderness. The idea of a smiling infant in my Betseys arms calls up all the father in it. In imagination I embrace the mother and embrace the child a thousand times. I can scarce refrain from shedding tears of joy. But I must not indulge these sensations; they are unfit for the boisterous scenes of war and whenever they intrude themselves make me but half a soldier. AH to EH, 12Oct1781

You cannot imagine how entirely domestic I am growing. I lose all taste for the pursuits of ambition, I sigh for nothing but the company of my wife and my baby. The ties of duty alone or imagined duty keep me from renouncing public life altogether. It is however probable I may not be any longer actively engaged in it.

I have explained to you the difficulties which I met with in obtaining a command last campaign. I thought it incompatible with the delicacy due to myself to make any application this campaign. I have expressed this Sentiment in a letter to the General and retaining my rank only, have relinquished the emoluments of my commission, declaring myself notwithstanding ready at all times to obey the calls of the Public.4 I do not expect to hear any of these unless the State of our Affairs, should change for the worse and lest by any unforeseen accident that should happen, I choose to keep myself in a situation again to contribute my aid. This prevents a total resignation.

You were right in supposing I neglected to prepare what I promised you at Philadelphia. The truth is, I was in such a hurry to get home that I could think of nothing else. AH to Meade, March 1782 (from a JCH transcription)

You were right, My dear General, in saying that a Soldier should have no Other wife than the service...William North to AH, 12Nov1799

AND just for amusement:

I thank you My Dear Sir for the military figures you have sent me. Tactics you know are literally or figuratively of very comprehensive signification. As people grow old they decline in some arts though they may improve in others. I will try to get Mrs. Hamilton to accompany in games of Tactics new to her. Perhaps she may get a taste for them & become better reconciled to my connection with the Trade-Militant. AH to McHenry, 21June1799

__________________________________________

*I broke this down in a prior post too, but I’ll repeat it here again: I think the clearest statement of his plan left to us is from the draft of the letter he sent to Philip Schuyler explaining why he wants to break with GW (18Feb1781):

As I cannot think of quitting the army during the war, I have a project of re-entering into the artillery, by taking Lieutenant-Colonel Forrest’s10 place, who is⟩ desirous of retiring on half pay. I have not however made up my mind upon this , Start insertion,head, End,, as I should be obliged to come in the youngest Lt Col instead of the eldest, which I , Start deletion,should, End, , Start insertion,ought to, End, have been by natural succession had I remained in the corps; and , Start insertion,at the same time, End, to resume studies relative to the profession which, to avoid inferiority, must be laborious.

If a handsome command for the campaign in the , Start insertion,light, End, infantry should offer itself, I shall ballance between this and the artillery. My situation ⟨in the latter⟩ would be more , Start deletion,substantial, End, , Start insertion,solid, End, ⟨and permanent;⟩ but as I hope ⟨the war will not last long enough to make it progressive, this consideration has the less force. A command for the campaign would leave me the winter to prosecute studies relative to my future career in life. With⟩ respect to the former, I have been materially the worse for going into his family.11

I have written to you on this subject with all the freedom and confidence to which you have a right and with an assurance of the interest you take in , Start deletion,what, End, , Start insertion,all that, End, concerns me.

This letter implies 1) he had a plan post-military; 2) he had discussed with PS what that plan was, and possibly that six month leave (that never happened because of illness and unavailability) was tied to undertaking some of those studies to be a lawyer, to put himself in better shape to support a family. Being able to do so was important to AH - Philip Hamilton was born Jan 1782, and Angelica would not be born until Sept 1784.

#Alexander Hamilton #Elizabeth Schuyler #Elizabeth S. Hamilton #18th century masculinity #Philip Schuyler #John Laurens #I've always found it interesting that he references Achilles to state his willingness to #throw everything away for a woman (Briseis)

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rosevanhelsing · 4 years

Text

Portal Creator. Chapter 2

Lily entered the neighborhood cafe with Mary, fleeing from John, a classmate who was harassing her and trying to seduce her, taking advantage of the fact that Jeff had gone with his father to a Mechanics Convention.

"Hello, Jenny, please give us two shakes, one strawberry and one chocolate with coffee," he told the waitress. I go to the bathroom, and then see if I can get my cell phone to work.

- I do not know what happens today with electronic equipment, my mobile is not fine either and James has been fighting with the TV for almost half an hour trying to put the match and this goes from static to hearing Christmas carols.

- Christmas carols?

- How you hear it. Now I prepare the shakes for you, honey.

- Stay here- said Lily to Mary- I hope that when I comes out of the bathroom Lily entered the neighborhood cafeteria with Mary, fleeing from John, a classmate who was harassing her and trying to seduce her, taking advantage of the fact that Jeff had gone with his father to a Mechanics Convention

- Ok.

After five minutes Jenny brought the two shakes, and Mary tasted her strawberry shake, while watching John stroll outside and stare at them. John scared her, she sensed that she wanted to do something bad to her sister and that he was not going to give up. Mary thought they needed the help of someone older to scare John and the first thing that occurred to her was to ask James, the owner of the bar who was an old friend of the family and she was sure he would help them. Mary took her milkshake and went to the bar but on the way she saw that very nice man, the one with the old car, who they had met the other day. As it seemed that James was busy , Mary thought she was losing nothing by trying to ask him for help. Charles Manx was at one of the tables, eating the daily menu, when Mary approached him and said:

- Hello, Mr. Manx.

Charlie turned around, smiled at her and said:

- Hi cute. What are you doing over here?

-We are hiding

-Hiding you?

- Yes, from that boy over there - Marie said pointing to John through the window - he has been chasing my sister for a long time, even though he knows she's with Jeff. He says that Lily has to be his girlfriend, because she is still with Jeff, she won't know how it is that they fuck you well.

Charlie almost choked on his steak when he heard the last sentence, coughed and said:

-For the love of God, girl ... Where have you learned this kind of vocabulary?

Mary shrugged and said… That's what he says… Can we stay with you for a while and then can you walk us home? - She said imploringly as she clung to his arm.

Charlie smiled to herself, it was the perfect opportunity. At the same time, he could gain the trust of both of them and know where they lived to continue his research.

- Of course, pretty. You can stay with me for a while and then I'll be happy to take you home in my car ...

- Mary! –Said Lily who had already left the bathroom- What are you doing bothering Mr. Manx?

"It doesn't bother me, dear," said Charlie, smiling at Lily, "what's more, from what your little sister told me, there's a boy who's bothering you, do you want me to take care of him?"

-Don't bother, there is no problem, I can solve it myself ... I'll call my mother or one of my grandmothers ...

- Young lady, if a boy threatens you, it better be a man who defends you. And since your boyfriend is absent, myself will gladly take care of it and take you home. Take your shakes calmly and then we go ...

- But ... you don't have to ...

"I insist, miss," Manx said sharply. "Now sit down and have your drink."

Lily sat up in resignation and glared at her baby sister. He was surprised that Mary took her smoothie so calmly next to this man as if he were family, while Charlie Manx only gave her chills and creeping her out. Charlie finished his lunch and went to pay the bar, also paying for the girls' shakes, Lily protested when she saw him and said:

- Mr. Manx, you didn't have to bother to ...

He just smiled, took Lily gently by the arm and whispered:

- Come out with me and pretend you know me forever ...

Lily understood the strategy and the two of them went naturally with him to the imposing Rolls Royce Wraith waiting outside. Charlie politely said:

- In the front seat or the back seat, ladies?

- In the front seat, please - Lily said - she didn't know why but something told her that it would be safer.- It's a short journey, besides my sister gets dizzy easily ...

Charlie opened the door and gestured politely for them to enter, at the same moment John appeared and said:

- Hey, who is this guy? I would have taken you home ...

- I’m their friend and, from what they have told me, they don't want to go with you- Charlie said closing the car door in front of John's nose, leaving Lily and Mary inside. - And if I find out that you bother them again... well ... I will have to take action ... - he said in a soft but threatening tone

Manx went to the driver's seat and said:

- I don't think this boy will bother you again.

"You've taken too much trouble ... I hope, out of resentment, he doesn't take it with you or your car ..." Lily said.

- I can defend myself, miss. - Charlie said as she started the car- And, as I said, it is not a bother for me to defend the honor of women ...

Lily looked at him strangely and stuck to the passenger door with Mary on her knees. The way he spoke that man seemed out of another century, as did his clothing that although it was elegant, it old fashioned and made him look like a Rockefeller driver or worse ... the driver of a gansgter. Lily was also concerned that, even on his way home and Charlie following her directions, the journey was becoming strangely long even though the vehicle was at normal speed and to make matters worse his sister seemed strangely sleepy and pale on his lap. She was starting to get sleepy herself and decided that they had to get out of that sinister car immediately...

- Mr. Manx, please drop us off at the next corner ...

- Are you sure?

- Yes, John has already left us alone and I think my sister is already getting dizzy, don't be afraid for us, we are already four steps from my house and the last thing I want is for her to dirty the upholstery of your car.

- Well, if you insist ...

Charlie stopped and let them down. The Wraith buzzed over the radio, Charlie was sure now, one of the two was the creative soul he was looking for but which one or perhaps both were? Once he left his passengers, he looked around for a place to park and take a good nap while he pondered the subject.

Lily grabbed her sister and roused her a bit until she saw that Manx had walked away. When they got home, Lily put her sister to bed, she didn't understand how she had gotten so bad, she was pale as dead and seemed delirious. Mary shuddered inside the bed, hugged her stuffed animal and said:

- I have dreamed of Christmasland ... I want to go again ...

#nos4a2

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writethehousedown · 4 years

Text

Sunshine Brighter Than Blind Love (Scyvie) - Zyan

a/n: this is not surfer AU, i know. but hear me out: i’ll post the remaining chapters during the make up period, don’t think i’m leaving you hanging. title is taken from the LP song “Girls go Wild” for no apparent reason, I just liked it - now, have some soft gals! the fic is settled in a wild west period. a cowgirl au, if you will. hope you enjoy! sideblog is @chachkisalpaca as always x

“Don’t you think it’s hot today?” Scarlet asks, lying on a pile of hay and fanning herself with Yvie’s hat. Yvie stops grooming one of Scarlet’s father’s horse to look at her, her brow cocked.

“Hot? In the middle of July? Of course not,” she deadpans, making Scarlet frown and childishly stick her tongue out at her. Yvie chuckles, going back to work. “You could be inside the house, where it’s much cooler than here, y’know,” Yvie comments, but Scarlet dismisses her with a wave of her hand.

“Nah, inside is no fun. My mama’s been insistin’ to teach me embroidery, but that’s boring,” she says, moving around the hay and finding a more comfortable position. “I like hangin’ out with you much more.” Yvie smiles at the compliment, slightly biting the inside of her cheek.

She’s not sure why Scarlet likes her or why she risks getting grounded by her parents every time she comes to the stables just to hang out and talk with Yvie, who definitely shouldn’t be getting distracted from her job by talking with her boss’ daughter, but she doesn’t complain. Scarlet is kind, quick witted, and fun to be around.

Well, she’s not so fun when she takes off the layers of clothing and lays in the hay in a see-through silk gown that allows Yvie to see every curve of her body without the corset. It’s distracting, but she doesn’t say a word about it, because she shouldn’t be getting distracted by Scarlet like that.

Scarlet sits upright in the hay, pulling her soft auburn hair in a loose bun with a piece of lace, tying it in a little bow. Yvie takes a vow to not look at her or else she won’t be able to pull her gaze off again.

“Yves,” Scarlet calls. Yvie hums to let her know she’s listening. “D’you wanna go for a swim?” She asks cheerfully, staring at her with a toothy smile.

Surprised, Yvie looks at her, tilting her head to the side. “But I have work to do,” she simply says. Scarlet pouts, folding her arms. She looks cute as all hell.

“Oh, c’mon! Dad’s not home and my mama’s off to her friend’s house,” Scarlet tries to persuade her, but Yvie cocks a skeptical brow. Both of Scarlet’s parents horses are taking a nap at the stable.

She shifts her weight from one foot to another, “Huh, last time I checked, Storm and Buttercup were over there.” Yvie points with her chin towards the entrance of the stables, but Scarlet cocks a brow, standing up and jumping a little to see over the fences. She curses when she notices it’s true.

“Ah, damn. You got me, they’re home, I just want you to come with me to the river. I’m sweating in places I didn’t know could sweat,” she admits with a shrug. Yvie chuckles, pinching her cheek.

“Then take a bath, silly.”

“I would, but where’s the fun in that?” Scarlet says, folding her arms and throwing herself back into the pile of hay with a groan.

Yvie laughs wholeheartedly. Scarlet sometimes can be a bit of a brat —collateral effects of being an only child, she supposes— but she’s nothing like some other girls from families she’s worked for. As far as Yvie knows, Scarlet is a sweetheart compared to them.

And because she’s a sweetheart —and maybe because Yvie fancies her the tiniest, minuscule bit—, she lets out an over the top groan and folds her arms, too.

“I guess I have to accompany you to the river, don’t I?”

A giddy, child-like smile appears on Scarlet’s face as she claps excitedly. Somehow, Yvie knows she’ll regret this.

***

Yvie regrets this. Very much so.

Scarlet makes her walk for almost half an hour to get to the river, first and foremost. And then, when Yvie thinks they’re just going to sit by the shore and wet their feet, Scarlet shamelessly strips from her clothes and dives right into the water, leaving Yvie frozen for a moment.

“Well, what are you waiting for, an invitation? Aren’t you joining me?” She cheekily asks, almost as if she knows what she does to Yvie.

Yvie nods dumbly, because she’s forgotten how to speak, apparently. She’s starting to unbutton her shirt when she finds her voice again. “Don’t look, please.” Scarlet puts her hands up to cover her eyes and turns around, and Yvie hastily gets rid of her clothes, setting them next to Scarlet’s.

The water is cold, and it soon relieves the heat. Yvie lets out a small pleased moan, and taps on Scarlet’s shoulder to let her know she can turn around already. She has a bright, cheery smile as she slightly splashes her.

“This is nice,” she says, oddly sheepish. She takes advantage of it to wash her hair and Yvie gives her some space, pressing her knees against her chest as she watches her.

“This is better than cleaning horse shit, yeah,” Yvie concedes, and Scarlet chuckles.

The sun is peeking through the trees, everything is in silence, with the exception of a few birds chirping, and the river’s water splashes against the rocks, creating a beautiful symphony.

As Scarlet untangles her hair, it occurs to Yvie that she looks like those mythical creatures from far away lands she’s heard her father talk about — women with a sobrenatural beauty and being way too kind to be real. The name nymph rings in Yvie’s mind, and she finds it fitting for Scarlet.

“Y’know, you never told me why did you start working at my family’s ranch,” Scarlet says, combing her hair with her long, slender fingers.

Yvie bites the inside of her cheek, not only because she’s trying to stop her eyes from scanning down Scarlet’s body, but because she’s not sure if she wants to talk about her father yet. Her mama has told her not to say a word about him, to just reply that he abandoned them if anyone asks where he is, but there’s something about Scarlet that makes Yvie unable to lie to her.

“We needed the money. It’s been hard since dad left,” she confesses, digging her nails in her thighs. Her dad’s been on the run from the authorities since Yvie can remember, coming back for a day or two after months of radio silence. She hopes one day he can stay with her forever.

Scarlet shoots her a worried glance, focusing her attention on her.

“Oh, darling,” she coos, coming closer to her. Yvie gulps. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.” She does. But she’s not expecting Scarlet to understand it. “Can we talk about something else?” Yvie begs, and Scarlet nods.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you, but you’re like, my only friend,” Scarlet is quick to comment to change the topic. Yvie laughs, not believing her for a second. “For real! The girls my mama makes me hang out with don’t like me. You’re the only one with good taste in this town,” she says, attempting to flip her wet hair over her shoulder with a cocky expression.

Yvie doesn’t laugh this time; she’s heard how men talk about Scarlet in the saloons. Most of the time she can’t believe they are talking about this Scarlet, the one in front of her, with a smile as bright as the sunshine — they say she’s a spoiled brat, impossible to stand, and that if it wasn’t for her fortune, she’d never find a man to marry.

No wonder, men are stupid; Yvie would give up everything she has just to get Scarlet to like her back.

“For the record, I don’t like you,” Yvie deadpans, earning a smack in the arm from Scarlet. “See? You’re violent! Why would anyone like you, Miss Scarlet?”

A loud laugh bubbles in Scarlet’s throat, and Yvie realizes this is the first time she’s heard her laugh so carelessly.

“Oh, shut up, you! I know you love me.” She winks at her, and for a moment Yvie holds her breath. She knows she’s joking, that she doesn’t actually know. But she can’t help the tinge of panic that invades her.

“I absolutely do, that’s why I let you steal my hat whenever you want,” she says with an eye roll, pinching one of Scarlet’s cheeks. What she said isn’t technically a lie, but of course she won’t tell that to Scarlet.

Scarlet softly slaps her hand away, giggling slightly as she sits with her legs crossed, the water covering everything from the neck up.

“Can I tell you something?” She suddenly says, staring intently at Yvie. Yvie bites her lower lip, trying not to jump into conclusions as she nods. Scarlet sighs heavily before speaking. “Promise not to judge, ‘kay?” Scarlet anxiously twirls a strand of her hair around her index finger, and Yvie nods again. “So. You know we moved in a year ago, but do you know why we moved in the first place?”

There have been some rumors surrounding the James family, especially Scarlet, but Yvie knows it’s just things people say. So she shakes her head no.

Scarlet sighs again before continuing, “There was this girl that worked for us, Eileen, and she was just so, so beautiful.” She looks past Yvie, the nostalgia invading her gaze. Yvie’s heart gives a jump, “And I thought- I thought she also felt butterflies in her stomach when we were together.”

Yvie freezes, her brain short-circuiting. She’s not sure if she heard that right, or that she understands what Scarlet is saying. It feels like a dream, and she sure as hell doesn’t want to wake up.

“My parents found out, fired Eileen, and decided we’d move as far as possible, in case Eileen had told anyone.” Scarlet finally pulls her gaze to meet Yvie’s. Yvie’s stomach flips the moment she scoots herself closer, without breaking the eye contact. “So, I must ask you, before you turn into even more of another Eileen and I have to move houses again, to stop saying you love me if you don’t mean it.”

It takes Yvie a full minute to realize what Scarlet just said, and even when the words sink in, she’s unable to believe it. Scarlet is looking at her as if she’s a wounded animal and she’s pleading for mercy; she flinches when Yvie brings a hand to meet hers, so she just leaves her hand hanging halfway.

“I’m not Eileen,” she begins, and almost right away she sees how disappointed Scarlet looks. “I’m Yvie, and unlike Eileen, I do mean it when I say it.”

Scarlet’s eyes grow wide, blinking repeatedly in astonishment, and Yvie slowly tries to reach for her hand again. This time, she doesn’t flinch; instead, she laces her fingers with Yvie’s.

“For real?” Scarlet musters, and Yvie nods with a soft smile.

“For real.”

Yvie shifts her position a little, taking Scarlet’s chin with her free hand and attracting her face to deposit a soft kiss on her lips. Scarlet is surprised for a moment, but soon she follows Yvie’s pace.

They know what they’re doing is dangerous; anyone could run into them and they’d inevitably be hunted down, because in the eyes of the law, this is wrong.

But as Scarlet wraps her arms around Yvie’s neck, pulling her closer and smiling into the kiss, there’s nothing more important in the entire world.

tags: scyvie, scarlet envy, yvie oddly, fluff, lesbian au, wild west au

#rpdr fanfiction #scyvie #scarlet envy #yvie oddly #zyan #fluff #lesbian au #wild west au #summer lovin' 2020 #day 7: swim #submission

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iwillsinkwithmyships · 4 years

Text

The Love I Meant to Say 1/3

Steve Rogers was found much earlier, so was Bucky Barnes, and since the two of them had nowhere to go, Howard Stark took them in. Now the night of Tony's graduation fights occur, misunderstandings happen, and everyone ends broken-hearted. Canon AU.

A/N: Hi! This is my very first Marvel Fic, this has been floating around my head in my head for a long time. It was actually supposed to be part of the WinterIronShield Big Bang 2019, but I am not complete sure what happened, so I decided to just publish it as it is. This all occurs in the 90's, Tony is 21 and graduating from MIT, the boys can't communicate well and shit hits the fan. Kudos and comments welcomed!

Titles taken from the TV Show SMASH, mostly second season songs, since that's all I listened to while writing this.

Chapter 1: Sorry, that's the word I want to sing to you...

To say that Tony Stark had a strange life was the understatement of the century. He was the only son of weapons manufacturer Howard Stark and socialite Maria Stark nee Carbonell. At the age of four he had built his first circuit board At the age of 15 he began attending MIT and now at the age of 21 he had just graduated at the top of his class with a two Masters and a Doctorate. The young Stark internally sighed as he pretended to listen to whichever one of the board member that his dad had invited to his graduated party. His job at this event was to grin and bear as his parents paraded him around like some trophy to show off. He was no better than the expensive painting his mother purchased to show to her friends, no better than some article written about the empire his father had built.

Tony sighed and shook his head, there he went being the drama queen his father always called him. He just had to endure this party and then he'd be free to go celebrate with his friends. They were his favorite part about MIT. Rhodey had been his assigned roommate and had quickly became his best friend, his brother. He was always patient with him and his constant engineering binges. He kept people who would take advantage of the dumb young Stark kid and introduced him to his other best friend: Carol Danvers. Carol was a sarcastic, stubborn asshole. Which meant she and Tony got along like two peas in a pod. Rhodey liked to complain that he was a babysitter for the two of them but when it came down to it Rhodey was just as bad as the two of them, and he always covered for them. He came back to himself and realized that Old Guy McBoring was still talking...jeez...

He excused himself and found his way to the garden, surely they couldn't miss him for a couple of minutes...

"Leaving your own party huh? I don't think your mom will be too happy about that tomorrow." Tony startled and turned only to get the breath knocked out of his lungs. There stood another inexplicable part of Tony's life.

When he was just three years old his father had returned from one of his usual long trips with a surprise for Tony. That surprised had turned out to be Captain America himself, who after being suspended in ice a for almost thirty years was still alive thanks to the Super Soldier Serum. Steve Rogers had introduced himself to Tony by coming down to little Tony's level with a kind smile and a warm hand extended for a handshake. Tony had loved Steve instantly and followed him around like a lost puppy. Tony still remembers being a six year old and sitting in his huge library reading with Steve. Steve who never raised his voice at him and always answered all of Tony's questions with patience and a kind voice. Steve had been one of Tony's favorite people together with Jarvis and Aunt Peggy.

Years after that, Sergeant James "Bucky" Barnes had been found. No one had ever explained to Tony what had happened to Bucky, only that he needed to give him space. Tony had been 10 at the time, but he still remember the hunted look in Bucky's eyes, the way he seemed to lean on Steve for support and it had taken no hesitation on his part to go over and introduce himself. Steve had been alarmed and had looked at Tony with wide panicked eyes when he had burst into Steve's wing of the house. Tony remembers seeing Bucky tense and looking at him with wary eyes, but Tony also remembered how much it meant to him to have another friend besides Jarvis and Ana. So Tony vowed to become Sergeant Barnes's friend.

So a determined Tony had walked into the wing his father had given Steve and did what he always did while visiting Steve. He'd babbled. He had first introduced himself - because his mother and Jarvis had raised him to be polite - and then launched into a long description of what he'd done while Steve had been gone all the while throwing himself onto the couch across Steve and his friend were sitting. For some reason that had worked and soon Tony had found himself visiting the two heroes he had grown up listening stories about, first from Howard and later on from Steve, who had mainly focused on all the shenanigans he and his best friend had gotten up to, and soon Sergeant Barnes became Bucky.

And so Tony had grown up with Captain America and his Trusty Sidekick Bucky Barnes - Bucky doesn't exactly love being called the sidekick and so the Steve and Tony love to tease him about it - and at some point that hero worship had transformed into an embarrassing crush on the two super soldiers. Tony is smart enough to recognize that it was inevitable. After all, the two of them were the peak of human perfection and he knew from personal experience that they were also incredibly smart, kind and hilarious. It hadn't really surprised Tony when they'd told him that they were a couple, since the two of them just...made sense. It still didn't stop him from blushing every time he saw them nowadays.

It was mortifying.

"Hey!" good god his voice cracked! "I didn't see you guys come in!" Both men smiled at him fondly and all Tony could do was hope their heightened senses didn't let them hear his damn heartbeat.

"If you think we are subjecting ourselves to those vultures, you don't know us at all Tones." Bucky drawled as he joined Tony at the bench he was sitting at and threw an arm over his shoulders, "I love you, but I am not subjecting myself to that." Tony relaxed a little as he laughed and turned to Steve who sat on his other side.

"We wanted to congratulate you, but I also didn't want to take the focus from you. This party is to celebrate your accomplishments." Tony rolled his eyes.

"This party is so that Dad can brag to his friend about how smart his son is," Tony tried for a bored tone but the pinched look that the two older man got was clue enough that he'd failed, "But I'm used to it so don't worry about it. So what did you get me?!" He finished excitedly.

"And who says we got your spoiled ass anything you punk." Bucky slapped the back of his head as Tony laughed.

"Please! You guys love me! Plus, we both know that Captain Goody-Two Shoes would not show up to my party without a gift, so hand it over!"

"If you are going to make fun of me because I am polite then maybe I shouldn't give it to you," the Captain grumbled. Bucky and Tony both laughed at him as he pulled out a small box even as he spoke. Tony took it from him and opened it. Inside lay a necklace with an oddly shaped pendant. It had a beautiful gem at the base and an intricate design going down, it reminded Tony of something but he couldn't think of what.

"It's beautiful," he murmured, raising his eyes to meet two warm stares.

"We are glad you like it," said Bucky and then he got up and walked back into the house, not a minute later he was back with a large ornate box. "We were really hoping you did otherwise this would be awkward."

"What he's trying to say," huffed Steve, and pulled a necklace from under his dress shirt it look pretty similar to the one they'd given him, "is that it is part of a whole. You have always been a part of us Tony, a really important part. You were there when I was shoved into a new decade and learned everything alongside me, and you were there when I got Bucky back." He grabbed a hold of Bucky's hand and held it in that way Tony had always seen, like he was afraid he'd disappear at any time. Tony ignored the now familiar pang on his chest. "You helped me get him back from somewhere really dark and scary, and we will never be able to repay all that to you."

"Guys-"

"Sweetheart," Bucky said softly taking hold of one of his hands. "If the next words out of your mouth are something about how you didn't do anything then you are not nearly as bright as we all give you credit for." Steve laughed at the indignant look in Tony's face.

"Anyways, back to what I was saying, you are important to us and we can't picture a future without you, and we hope we don't have to. Bucky and I, we've lost so much to time that...it scares us to not have anything to remember the things we love the most. So, we thought we could do kind of a time capsule of sorts. Something that the three of us can come together to look at and reminiscence." Steve took of the necklace around his neck, and Tony noticed that Bucky was doing the same thing. Steve took Bucky's necklace, gently plied Tony's from his hand and put the three together.

"It's a key," Tony gasped. Steve smiled and used the key - secret key! - to open the box in Bucky's hands.

"We were hoping to make plans to meet later this week to get together and put in things that have brought the three of us together," said Bucky. "We already have ours, but we figured you'd need some time to decide." Tony nodded absently as he looked at the items already in the box. There were drawings Tony had worked on with Steve in his younger years, a small hat that Bucky had knit him years ago and that he'd thought lost, books they had read together. The first circuit board Tony had built, which until today Tony had thought his father had thrown away. And a cassette with songs that Ana liked to play while her and baked. Tony remembers being 15 and humming along to all the songs in this cassette as he followed Ana's instructions to making a pie. His parents had been away on a trip, having forgotten that Tony was coming home for the holidays, but Jarvis and Ana had not. They had stayed for him - despite Howard's protests - and invited Steve and Bucky, who had moved out of the Stark Mansion around the same time Tony left for MIT, and Aunt Peggy. Tony's vision blurred as he saw pictures, drawings, and other seemingly insignificant things that represented some of Tony's best memories.

"I don't - I don't know what to say this is..."

"Just say thank you honey," Steve said with a chuckle and ran his fingers through Tony's curls.

"Yeah, look, let;s get together this weekend and we can pick a place to bury this thing." Tony let out a chocked laugh, and closed the box again, while setting it next to him. He threw his arms around Bucky, who didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around him too, and felt the familiar warmth of Steve behind him as he joined them in a hug, and this was Tony's favorite place in the world, being held in their arms he felt safe, warm and loved.

"Tony?" Tony jumped away from the two super-soldiers in surprised - he decided to ignore the upset look on the two other men as he leaped back - and relaxed when he recognized the person that had interrupted them.

"Obie!" Tony ran and over to his Godfather. The other man laughed and threw his arms around the younger man. "I thought you were on a trip!"

"What?! You thought I'd miss your graduation party. Please, and look, I even got you a present." Obadiah handed Tony a wrapped package

"What is this?"

"This my dear boy... is the future, but you'll probably want to open that later, I see that you are otherwise engage at the moment, gentlemen." Obie finished with a smile and an extended hand towards Steve and Bucky. In their end Steve and Bucky returned Obadiah 's greeting politely. Steve and Bucky had never really warmed up to Obadiah, something that Tony had never understood. Obadiah had always interested in seeing Tony's new inventions and thoughts on the future for Stark Industries. He'd even visited him while he'd been at MIT and walk though all of his projects with Tony.

Yet, Steve and Bucky remained distantly polite.

"Mr. Stane, good to see you again," Steve said while giving Obadiah's hand a quick shake. Bucky simply nodded.

"The future?" Bucky drawled with nod towards Tony and the package in his hand.

"Yes," Obie said, smile firmly in place, "Tony mentioned that he was interested in advancing medicine, and I found some notes by some of Medicine's top researchers. Figured our Tony here would like to see where we currently stand in medical advances."

"Thanks Obie! I'll take a look at it tonight," and with that he put his present away. His hands itched to open it and start reading it, but he'd understood Obie's hidden warning.

For the past 6 months, Tony had asked Obie to look for whispered legend, a project called EXTREMIS, research into bio-mechanics that Tony wanted to help with. To try and understand it and use it to find the cure to many incurable diseases. He knew that if he could take a look at the data he could help unlock it. The researcher, Maya Hansen, had suddenly gone underground and Tony had been unable to reach her, but if anyone could find her it would be Obie. So he'd asked Obie for help, and in exchanged Obie had only asked for opinions and improvements into some designs. However, he knew that there were rumors running around that EXTREMIS was another go at the Super Soldier Serum that had given Steve, and later on Bucky, their abilities. Tony could not be less interested in that, he just wanted to help people.

"Well I'll go inside and greet tonight's guests. It's only a matter of minutes before Howard comes and takes me away anyway. Gentlemen," he nodded towards the other two men, and clapped a hand on Tony's shoulder, "Tony, again congratulations. I hope you enjoy my present and let me know if you have any questions." Tony hugged Obie in thanks one more time and watched him walk back inside, but when he turned he saw the two soldier glare at Obie's back.

"Ok, what is it with you two against Obie?" Tony asked exasperated.

"We just don't trust him doll," Bucky said, not even trying to defend himself and Steve, "And you shouldn't either."

"Why not?" Tony warily asked, "do you guys know something I don't?" Obie had never been anything but kind and understanding with Tony, but if Steve and Bucky knew something...

"No," Steve replied this time, "no, Tony, we just.... have this gut feeling, and we'd rather you didn't really associate yourself with him.

A gut feeling...Seriously?

"Wha- A Gut feeling?! Steve, you and Bucky are just being overly protective for no reason. Obie has always looked out for me and he has never given me a reason to mistrust him. I am not going to just not talk to my Godfather because you and Bucky-bear here have a gut feeling that he might not be a great guy." Tony snarked with an eye roll.

"Tony" Steve warned with a slightly hurt look, that immediately made Tony feel guilty.

"We are just looking out for you kid," And wow, Bucky should not have said that, because now Tony was right back to angry, "we don't want you to be taken advantage of by some shark."

"Why? Because I am just some dumb kid, that doesn't know how to look out for himself? I need you two as babysitters?" he spit back.

"That is not what we are saying Tony," Steve said sternly, and he seemed to want to drop the fight, but his partner looked ready to put Tony over his knee and spank him for being a brat...and wasn't that an image.

'Focus, you dumb slut,' a voice that sounded suspiciously like Carol's said in his head.

"Stop twisting our words, you know that's now what I meant. This is not about you, it's about Obadiah Stane being nothing but a snake oil salesman, who will not hesitate to drop you the minute you stop being useful to him!" came the growl, and Tony saw red, he couldn't even stop the word vomit that came from his mouth.

"Oh that's rich coming fro the two of you! You two split the moment I was accepted to MIT and not once did you try to contact me. Not a call, or letter, or much less a fucking visit! I only saw you whenever I came over back home to visit which was maybe once a year! You know who did visit? OBIE! Obie was there for me, he called me regularly to check on me, made sure I was comfortable, came in and listen to me babble about robots for hours! And I am suppose to not trust him?!" Tony swiped a hand through his face and ignored the slight wetness in his eyes, because he was not crying like a fucking baby.

"Tony," Steve croaked, and when Tony turned back he saw that the other two men looked pale and stricken, "Tony we just...Tony we had already taken so much of your childhood, we didn't want to impose on your college experience too. Jesus, Tony is not because we don't love you!" Steve walked towards him and dragged him back into the bench, where the two men he loved carefully wrapped him back into their arms.

"Tony," Bucky said and paused to press a kiss to his forehead, "I am so sorry, if we made you feel like we...didn't care, God, that's the furthest thing from the truth. We just wanted to give you the space and not feel...smothered. You were in college with people closer to you age and who are almost as smart as you and we didn't want to ruin that for you." Steve hummed in agreement and raised one of Tony's hands to his mouth to give it a kiss.

"I was lonely, all the other kids wanted nothing to do with some weird 15-year-old rich boy. Hell, half of them thought I had bought my way in." The arms around him tightened, "but then Rhodey came and he brought Carol with him, and Carol has this girlfriend Maria, and then I wasn't alone. But I still missed you guys. It kinda felt like you were done with the snotty little kid that wouldn't leave you alone."

"Honey, no. We missed you too."

"Those times that we saw you? During the holidays? Those were precious to us, we were so glad to have you back if even for a little while."

"SHIELD just about lost it every time we denied missions just to come over and see you." Tony's heart warmed and he closed his eyes letting their reassurances wash over him. This was where he wanted to spend the rest of his life, in their arms feeling loved....

"Why don't you open you present? You seemed really excited earlier, let's see what you got." The way Steve had said it, so casually, could've fooled anyone. It sounded bright, optimistic, and just the right amount of curious. But Tony had known Steve for years, he'd known him and Bucky better than he knew himself...

...which is why it hurt when he saw the lie in his eyes. He wasn't simply changing the subject, he was lying to see what was in the package.

'Liar!' came the thought full of pain and disbelief.

"I think I'm good actually." He bit out coldly while he ripped himself away from them.

"Sweetheart," Bucky tried.

"Are you serious? You think I can't tell when you are lying?! You really think I am that stupid?!"

"Of course not! Tony we meant everything we said and you are the smartest person we know! But the world isn't kind to kind-hearted people like you, and I am sorry that you can't see that we are just trying to protect you!" Steve was on his feet and Bucky followed at a slower pace.

"Tony," Bucky sternly took over, "you know we think the world of you, and we would gladly lay down our life for you. And you are right, you know us, you've known us for a long time. So you know that we mean it when we say we love you and we just want to protect you...just like we know when you are hiding something from us. So just tell us, tells us what it is that Stane has you working on, and if it's something dangerous, let us help you."

"Are you listening to yourselves? You sound insane right now! What Obie has me working on? I am not working on anything for him! Yes, I do give input on some designs but that's insignificant, and what does it matter if I do anyway, I am going to be designing for SI soon enough!" Tony was surprised no one had come out with how loud they were being, but it was for the best. Steve and Bucky had a wild look in their face and Tony couldn't stop the angry tears in his eyes. It was humiliating.

"Then what did Obadiah just give you?!" Bucky asked accusingly and pointed at the package.

"Tony we are not stupid either, stop lying to us!" Steve yelled, and yanked him closer by the arm...and that broke Tony. Steve and Bucky had never hurt or yelled at Tony. They always treated him gently, spoke in measured volumes, because they suspected his parents didn't extend him that courtesy. Tony loved them for it. And now...

"Stop it," Tony sobbed, "you are hurting me, please..."

Steve let him go as if he'd been burned, Bucky took a step back. The anger washed out of the captain and his sergeant quickly and left behind wide eyes and pale faces.

"Tony," Steve croaked brokenly, "I am so sorry!"

"Yeah, you've been saying that a lot tonight," Tony said as he brought his arm closer to himself.

"What is going on in here?!" Someone had finally heard them.

"Nothing Jarvis," Tony said hollowly, "This conversation is over." With that he ran towards the exit ignoring the calls for his name. He should meet Rhodey and Carol anyway.

#My fic #My writing #stevetony #steve x tony #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #Steve Rogers #tony stark #steve rogers x tony stark

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emptymanuscript · 4 years

Text

One way to REname a character with internal story logic

I want to talk a moment about Zephyr.

Not the wind.

My character.

(He wishes he was this tough) Not even really the person but his NAME itself, Zephyr, and how it changed.

One of the things I don’t mention too much just to avoid trouble is how extremely different Knights of Day is now compared to how it was originally. At its early height, Knights of Day peaked at 4 authors. The goal was in no way to publish or publicize any of it. It wasn’t even really meant to be any sort of cohesive story. Or even to consist of cohesive stories rather than “adventures” for fun. I’m not even sure I can tell you WHAT it was. It wasn’t quite a piece of fiction, it wasn’t quite a table top rpg, it wasn’t quite rp’ing. It was just its own behemoth of a thing that included all of those. Compared to 1 book and 1 book in progress now.

Case in point: Fun Adventure #3 was ~

Kinda John Edward but real & real evil

Set up: Most Mediums are terrible people who fake their powers to rip victims off when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable. Because when you’ve just irrevocably lost one of the most important people in your life you’ll pay anything or do anything for the even the illusion of getting them back.

What if: Imagine someone who can really do everything they say they can do… but they’re still a terrible predator trying to take advantage of people when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable - they just have more power to make it even worse.

Mission: Save young suddenly widowed mega-rich heiress Helena Lawson from real Medium but still conniving con-man Kenton Dean. Because the greedy, racist, no goo Ted Lawson doesn’t want Kenton Dean to get the money instead of himself. And Ted is willing to pay exorbitantly to make sure it doesn’t. So James and Zeferrello are tasked with finding any reason to separate Helena and Kenton.

Twist: Yeah, Kenton Dean CAN summon and control the dead but it’s so much worse than that. He can summon and control the GOD of the dead. Assuming, of course, that all of this isn’t the god of the dead actually controlling Kenton Dean for its own purposes.

Which Became The Hidden and the Maiden. But instead of a climactic conflict between James, Zephyr, Kenton Dean, and Kherty-Aken decided by force, force of will, and clever use of all magic available inside the seat of Kenton Dean’s power, his theater, “Kinda John Edward but real & real evil” ended with a mildly tense chat between James and Zefferello versus Kherty Aken just kinda hanging out, tensely, next to an ambulance. James points out that Kenton Dean has reprogrammed Kherty Aken like a computer to just believe all this BS. Kherty Aken realizes, Oh Shi-! he’s right, and flys away. Next day, paper says Kenton Dean is dead. So the general idea is there but just not at all the same when you look close.

As an aside, this is by the way why most writing teachers dismiss ‘ideas’ as the least important element of story telling. One version of this ‘idea’ I stuff under a rug and pretend doesn’t exist. The other I sell in paperback for $10 a pop. If the fundamental idea hasn’t changed really, why the vast difference in price? Because of the execution. And if execution is more than infinitely greater in effect 0 -> 10 why bother putting that much effort into the idea when, even if you only go to 5 through execution, that will have more effect than any idea will. I am not 100% convinced by this line of reasoning but it’s not meritless either. A bad idea well written will just get more in the marketplace of ideas than a good idea poorly written. A bad idea badly written is doomed. A good idea well written may or may not do as well as the mediocrity. So, I disagree that it is of zero importance but I do think it is certainly not the most important element for 3/4’s of all story types. Ok, that’s another post, enough asides.

The real thing I’m actually thinking about is the Zefferello to Zephyr change. Zefferello was Zephyr’s original name. The author who created the original character said specifically her thoughts were that she had never had any character under any situation whose name started with Z. So she wanted a Z character and she plucked the rest out of thin air because. And because it didn’t matter, that was cool enough. So he was Zefferello for the first few years of life. No particular reason why. Never mind that nothing in any back round of anything anywhere would give Zefferello as a name.

It was only as I was moving from the first to the second draft of The Hidden and the Maiden that it was really bothering me about this Korean-American dude with the abusive Super Whitey Mega Rich father, the utterly absent and possibly dead Korean Trophy Wife mother, and the abusive DID having ghost but still white mother. Why would any of them give him that name?

Well, the father might do it just to torture his son throughout life. He’s that kind of asshole. As little as he is in it, I actually think of Zephyr’s father as the Antagonist for Knights of Day because he is just pure dagnasty evil because he likes it. He may not appear most on the page or wield the most power - partially because he’s just not my favorite kind of villain, at all, his side-kicks is way more my speed - but there’s no denying he does the most damage. BUT, the father is also very image conscious. Part of what he likes is doing terrible things while other people praise him for it. For making people suffer but having no one believe them because he is such a paragon of virtue. One of his side kicks actually got James to just start punching him toward the end because he kept talking about what a saint Zephyr’s father was and all the haters just didn’t understand what a wonderful person he was and how hard he worked when he never had to to improve the life of others. If I recall correctly James literally held a knife on the guy and pointing to Zephyr: ‘you had to fucking know what that motherfucker was doing to him! You evil lying sack of fucking shit!’ So… torture wasn’t going to work for a reason.

So I’m looking for any great people in history with the name Zefferello. Nope. Nada. Is it by some miracle a Korean name that Eun Ae Gwon might have given him? Nope. No dice. And slowly all eyes turn to JJ. JJ is nuts. There’s no getting around it. But I’m rarely happy with that as an explanation. Especially with JJ because most of what she does that SEEMS nuts, isn’t. The fundamental rule I made for JJ fairly early on is that she is ALWAYS up to something. She is playing every angle. She is working every leverage. She is a survivor in a way that most people will never be. She’s dead and she is still playing to win. So she will do things that appear unreasonable at point A in time in order to increase her odds of getting what she wants in point B in time.

And I’m looking at that name. That ello. That’s sounds latinate to me. And masculine. I already knew Zefferello’s real name at this point, and it had a Jr. at the end and I started wondering if maybe, just maybe, JJ gave Zefferello a different Jr. name. A name for the father that she wished Zefferello had. Instead of the one he did. He’s hers, and what better to claim a baby she would never hold than to rename him into a family that she wanted to exist but never did. That’s very JJ.

At which point I’m reviewing JJ’s history. It’s sparse-ish at that time. But I know when she got pregnant and I know more or less what happened to her from that point until she died. And there’s nothing in there to hint at a Zefferello Sr. But… there were already some hints about there maybe being a Zefferella. And of course that’s not a name either. But fiddle with the spelling and drop the “el” sound and you do get a Greek female name: Zephyra \

And that was the lightning bolt of inspiration and change. That JJ’s second and last love of her life was a fellow prostitute named Zephyra, and IF JJ could rewrite reality to be anything she wanted then her son would also be Zephyra’s - that they would be the family unit and the other would be the ghostly illusion. And with Zephyra as a real name, I also had a male equivalent: Zephyr. Sounds similar but much more plausible that he might somehow obtain it. Plus, with the idea of Zephyra, his name also becomes a key to unlocking tons of emotion and backstory.

And you’ll know it’s important the second that this repressed little guy walking around giving out the name of Zephyr Wayne, shamefully cringe-admits that his legal name is Peter Bailey Jr. That that exists at all says that there is a story to find down in there and that it isn’t a simple one.

So that’s one to rewrite a name based on the internal logic of a story. Zephyr’s name was researched and found but never picked out of a name directory. It was back-engineered to tell the story I wanted to tell and avoid the random story I didn’t. By following the logic that might lead to a name like his, I was able to find the one I thought was right for him.

And, since the original Cup Bearer was one of the winds, that also worked to my advantage… though it is generally considered the wrong wind. Oy. Which I’ll probably just end up deleting because Zephyr’s name is better for a story hook than anything I made with Thulebelore being the General of the Western Winds.

If you actually got here. Wow. Thank you. If you ever want to solicit writing advice, dropping a question in my ask prompts me better than whatever happens to occur randomly to my head. So, you know, that’s there.

#Knights of Day #Zephyr #The Hidden and the Maiden #Writing advice #writeblr #writeblogging #unsolicited advice

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thejakeformerlyknownasprince · 5 years

Note

ooh, please talk about how animorphs as a series exists in conversation with comic books!

Here it is, a whole bunch of questionably-organized thoughts off the top of my head (because if I wrote it out properly it’d be an entire dissertation):

Animorphs as Graphic Novels

Superhero team-up plot

Need for secrecy and “dual identities”, including through hiding abilities from loved ones and civilians

Kids’ powers given by science which no other human possesses — they are extraordinary, “unique to the universe” (MM3)

Small team of fighters with variations on similar powers (strength, speed, stealth, etc. divided among morphs)

Inability to trust authority, forcing them to take fight into own (amateur) hands

Secret Invasion: the aliens are in disguise, characters take on others’ appearances and identities

Use of exposition conceits and contrivances

Notably eschews Magic Tree House convention of putting all exposition into prologue

Also does not follow Babysitters’ Club convention of info-dump (thank Jeebus)

Follows in convention of using various devices (memory recordings, personal introductions, dialogue) to introduce the reader to the plot

When these occur, deliberately written w/ character voices

Stylistic descriptions

Heavy use of onomatopoeia

Short sentences, short paragraphs, short words

Thought-speak

Written with hypertext symbols/pointed brackets

In comics, used to denote a translation from a foreign language (possibly b/c guillemets popular in French and Italian texts?)

In Animorphs, used to denote not-quite-real and non-audible nature of this type of speech

Simultaneous condemnation and celebration of need for lawbreaking and violence

Explorations of impermanent death

Rachel and Tobias in MM2; Jake in MM3 and #11; all of them in MM4; David (maybe) in #48, David definitely in #22; Cassie, Tobias, Rachel, maybe Ax in #41

Impact of death is NOT on dead character, but on surviving teammates left behind (Alaniz)

Explorations of impermanent disability

Loren in #49; James, Erica, etc. in #50; Tobias in #13 and MM2

THIS IS PROBLEMATIC AS FUCK and doesn’t age well, but it is still a convention of the genre

Vivid, lurid, unreal cover scenes, including stylized depictions of battles

Discomfort with public personas, including identity fragmentation

Jake being disturbed/horrified by own postwar lionizing (military awards, Mount Rushmore, etc.)

Cassie noting how much Rachel’s funeral would have discomfited Rachel herself, and the lack of accuracy in statements made about her postmortem

All Animorphs, especially Jake and Tobias, responding to praise with shame

Writing structure

Short sentences, short paragraphs, short chapters, short books

Heavy use of imagery, with emphasis on worldbuilding through unreal imagery

Dialogue does not let up throughout story — not during dreams, not during battles, not during self-reflection

During rare moments when no one is talking, everyone is doing something, w/ very little room for long reflection

Emphasis on concrete, physical sensations and images over wishy-washy abstraction

Catchphrases!!!!

“Let’s do it”

“This is insane”

Arguably: “Good grief”; “Don’t call me prince”/”Yes, Prince Jake”

Superman as someone with “a body that retains no marks, on which history cannot be inscribed” (Bukatman)

Heroes getting “spear deaths” while villains and the pathetic get “straw deaths” (X)

Rachel’s death as heroic sacrifice

Jara Hamee, James et al, Rachel, Ax (?), Elfangor, Jake et al (?): dying in battle while bravely facing down hopeless odds

Visser One: stepped on almost accidentally after being stripped down to nothing by execution process

Visser Three: denied death in battle; must die after lifetime spent in prison

David: made helpless and pitiful before begging for death rather than continuing to exist in this state

Tom: “‘This pitiful, broken thing?’ He [the yeerk] gestured to his own body.” just before death (#53, emphasis mine)

Saddler: vilified and (guiltily) victim-blamed before dying in bed

Even “mock deaths” in Megamorphs books follow this pattern

Animorphs as SUBVERSIVE Graphic Novels

Ultrarealistic (humorous) embodiment of experience of fighting battles in multicolored spandex

Condemnation of violence

Emphasis on consequences beyond the physical

Physical violence is gross, disturbing, horrifyingly realistic (contrast: comics are often bloodless, or have unrealistically pretty violence) (Pizarro & Baumeister)

Unhappy endings

Superhero stories: “happy ending” = wife, kids, picket fence, heteronormativity

Animorphs: happy ending would be the chance to rest/recover and stop having to make moral decisions (#31); happy ending moves out of reach over course of story

Almost outsized emphasis on impact of secrecy, lies, violence, and injury on protagonists

Superhero comics (and later superhero movies): strangely bloodless stabbings, often played for humor or pathos but no gore

Animorphs: Marco’s entire jaw being ripped off as his tongue lolls loose from the hole in his face (#49), Jake tripping over his own entrails where they trail on the floor following disembowelment (MM4), Rachel being blinded by amount of blood gushing from a head wound (#41), etc.

Tobias

Descended from an ancient line of alien warriors, abandoned unwillingly by his parents at birth with unworthy guardians, grows up with no advantages, goes on to become a messiah-figure to the hork-bajir… and after all that, he’s just some guy on the team

It's not the story of Tobias and the Superfriends (or of Jake and the Superfriends) b/c he’s a part of the team

Characters like Cassie, who has ordinary (and therefore unconventional for superhero) backstory, actually get just as much development and even more narrative time than Tobias does

Showing impact: he has chronically, almost pathologically low self-esteem as a result of how he was raised, he experiences a lot of anger with both his parents for abandoning him, he gets continuously bullied in school for markers of poverty (wrong clothes, overweight, need to change school districts)

Jake

Another common superhero narrative: ordinary kid with group of friends accidentally stumbles into alien secret, ends up in charge of a group of superbeings almost overnight, all the while maintaining a secret identity as an ordinary (mediocre) boy non-hero to his normative suburban parents, aware all the while of villainous figure lurking in their midst…

But he remains, at the end of the day, not that special: the only “secret ability” he has to conceal is the ability to morph, not super-smarts or super-strength or any quality that makes him a brilliant rather than a merely decent leader

Again, impact: his family gets torn apart by weight of his and Tom’s yeerk’s secrets, something Aunt May (for instance) is much less likely to have to contend with

Rachel’s death as planned sacrifice play: Jake makes no attempt to die in her place

Contrast graphic novel trope (Superman and Jason Todd, Captain America and Bucky, Black Widow and Hawkeye, Hulk and Iron Man) of superheroes going to almost-ridiculous lengths to die in each other’s place, and superheroes almost never dying outside of concerted effort to prevent/undo friends’ deaths

Animorphs goes for military realism over classic self-sacrifice presentation

#animorphs #animorphs meta #animorphs spoilers #gore #body horror #graphic novels #superheroes #avengers endgame spoilers #comic books #superhero comics #k.a. applegate #tropes #long post #writing #superhero meta #avengers spoilers #loriache #asks

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chilly-me-softly · 5 years

Note

Having a really big fight with James and going to Ben to get some comfort

Yourbickering has been going on for weeks now, to the point that you don’t evenfight anymore for the initial reason. Simply one thing led to another, but whatmost of all leads you to discuss is the ‘home’ factor. For months now James hasbeen talking about living together and as much as you want, something isholding you back. Not that James ever asked the reason for your indecision,already on a war footing with another hesitation from you.

But thatday the one thing that pushes you over the edge had arrived, those phrasesstill echo in your mind.

“It’s loud and clear, you could no longerdo whatever behind my back”

“If you have to be an asshole then maybeit’s better to continue living at my house”

“Go, run to your mommy!”

“Grow up James, maybe then we’ll talkabout it again”

There arecertainly other problems for your indecision, but at that moment they areovershadowed by anger.

And you getout of his house in a fury. Try to take a walk to blow off some anger, but it doesn’t work. You need to lash out with someone you know can understand you andsubconsciously you are already on the way to go to Ben. Since you enteredJames’ world, he immediately proved to be a reliable person and in a short timeyou have become great friends also thanks to various passions that you have incommon. You knock on his door and in a few minutes you find yourself on hissofa.

“Youcan cry if you want” Ben tries to temper the situation when five minuteshave passed and not a word has come out of your mouth.

“Notears, I’m just furious and … disappointed. How does it even occur to him tothink that I can cheating on him?” you run your hand through your hair pullingit slightly.

"Wellmaybe-” he begins but is interrupted by another person who suddenly entersthe living room. “Maybe if you were honest with me I wouldn’t think aboutcertain things” of course James was there.

“Ahsure because you gave me the time to explain isn’t it?” you answer harshlygetting up from the couch.

“Okayenough. Both of you!"Ben yells, ”(Y/N) tell him, now"

“What?”

“Did Igive you permission to talk?” Ben glares at him.

“Thereason I keep postponing is not because I don’t want to live with you, but Imean I don’t even have a stable job and I can’t contribute to bills and I don’twanna be a kept woman” you sighs and look down. Feeling arms wrappedaround you and James’s perfume immediately reaches your nostrils. Now tears areforming in your eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have attackedyou and told you those things. But it’s not a problem, you know”

“YeahI know” you sighs keep him close to you “It’s my problem and-”

“Ourproblem, our” breaking away from the embrace and your heads are so closethat you speak in whispers, “But I really want to take this other stepwith you and live with you and wake up with you and-”

“Andthen come on, what would be the advantage of going out with a footballplayer?!” Ben puts in making you laugh and you take advantage of thatmoment to leave a kiss on James’ lips. A little bit more sure to join thisother adventure.

#thank you anon #ben chilwell blurb #james maddison blurb #ben chilwell #james maddison

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popwasabi · 5 years

Text

My MCU Phase 4 Wishlist

So, over a decade and 23 fucking films later an era of Marvel’s Cinematic Universe has finally concluded with “Spider-man: Far From Home” premiering last week.

It’s still staggering just how robust this franchise is considering in just eleven years’ time it already has amassed nearly as many films as the James Bond franchise and is arguably a more bankable series at this point than “Star Wars.” Though it’s not a perfect series by any stretch its success is nonetheless tied to its consistent, often magnetic charm and grand action set pieces and Phase 3 showed that it was even capable of some complex and nuanced growth. The third phase tackled deeper more emotional issues for our favorite super heroes while also giving many of its directors more free reign to do as they please with their scripts. Not always perfectly but it was more often than not hugely successful at reaching audiences on a personal level.

(Sometimes with mixed results...)

But as much as “Endgame” was a near perfect sendoff for this franchise, The Mouse isn’t done by any stretch with churning these films out seemingly until the end of time, so with that mind where should Disney go from here since it looks like the franchise will continue on indefinitely?

There’s a lot of ways to envision success for the MCU, and some wheels are already in motion between next year’s “Eternals” and Disney+’s streaming MCU shows but what would it really take for this series to get to the next level? Well this writer has some ideas and is more than happy to share a few of them.

Make the Villains More Prominent (and stop killing them off!)

Less so in Phase 3 but consistently throughout most of the series has been a total lack in quality villain performances and story-telling. Whether they are generic mustache-twirlers, essentially dark mirrors of the hero or just plain half-baked characters, the MCU has really done a disservice to its robust catalogue of rogues by often wasting the talents of great actors and actresses all to just check a box in a super hero script.

And on top of that they are consistently dead by the end of each film giving them no chance for growth in a sequel. I mean it’s not like we haven’t seen that work before right?

(Case in point)

For phase 4, especially in the wake of two thirds of the Marvel’s Holy Trinity out of the picture, villains should take center stage now more than ever. The heroes of this newer, younger and developing Avengers are probably not ready for the responsibility of protecting the world and the universe as evidenced by the near catastrophic mess Spider-man commits in “Far From Home” and to have the villains of this next phase take advantage of that would be a smart move.

These villains need to be prominent, larger than life and command a nuance to them that much of the older films did not have. A character like Norman Osborn for instance could step in to fill the power vacuum left behind by Stark’s shadow as the new tech futurist of Earth but of course without the responsibility and good intentions of Iron Man. Doctor Doom could be a counter to Black Panther’s Wakanda as a polar opposite of nations in Latveria. And bringing on a character like Mephisto could further expand the mystical side of the MCU that started to be explored in “Dr. Strange.”

(But seriously, Marvel Studios, if I don’t get Toby Stephens as Norman Osborn I will riot...)

Either way, these villains need to carry on for more than one film for a change. Only Thanos, Vulture and Loki have managed to get past their first movies but if Phase 4 is going to be more distinctive it needs to have these villains come together in some way, perhaps even a *gasp* team-up! Having the villains form a super team to fight a younger more inexperienced Avengers could provide for some great drama and welcome change to the usual “fight an army of nameless goons, aliens and/or robots” of the previous era.

In any case, Kevin Feige and The Mouse need to have their sights set on truly developing these villains beyond just simple one-offs and into fully fleshed out characters that can continue to be trouble for our heroes across the series.

Expand the Cosmic Spectrum of the MCU

The MCU is a science fiction series, if that didn’t already occur to you before, what with it’s iron-suited heroes, super soldiers and in these last two phases space aliens. With the latter the next phase really needs to lean into this and all its possibilities.

There’s a wealth of characters and worlds to explore on the cosmic level of Marvel Comics that not just the Guardians of the Galaxy can be a part of and Disney would be smart to bring even more properties into this real estate of the MCU.

It should namely start with Adam Warlock who was teased in the mid-credits scene of “Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2.” Warlock has long been a favorite character of mind, dating back to reading my dad’s old copies of the Infinity Gauntlet and Infinity Watch. He’s a charismatic character who effectively blends both the cosmic and mystical side of the Marvel Universe together that can lead to a wealth of possibilities across the new MCU. Who should play him is purely subjective at this point but I can tell you right now Zach Efron isn’t even my fourth choice on that particular ladder.

(Maaaaaybe?)

With the Fox deal, Disney also has the option to bring Silver Surfer and Galactus into the mix which they absolutely should at some point. Beta Ray Bill is also said to be making his debut in “Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 3” who can take over for Thor as Chris Hemsworth will eventually move on from the franchise at some point. Guardians will eventually need to retire too of course which opens up the possibility for the Infinity Watch with characters like Moon Dragon, Maxam and Pip the Troll and don’t tell me any of them wouldn’t work on the big screen. If Rocket Racoon can be a fan favorite Moon Dragon, Pip and Maxam can definitely make it too.

Either way the Marvel Universe is big fucking place and Disney would be dumb to not explore more of it for future franchises.

Make better Original Scores

Johan Goransson’s Oscar win for Best Original Score for his work on “Black Panther” was a watershed moment for this franchise because it showed how super hero music can still be relevant. Imagine Christopher Reeve’s “Superman” without John Williams theme music or Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight” without Hans Zimmer’s prominent percussion echoing the legend of Batman. Its not nearly as memorable and I feel the MCU has largely short-changed itself by not putting a higher emphasis on original scores during its decade-long run.

(*Bwaaaaaam BWAAAAAAAAAMMMM* I can hear this gif)

Phase 3 has definitely done a better job with this of course, Michael Giacchino’s work on Spider-man is solid, Alan Silvestri’s return to Avengers especially the “Portals” scene is epic as hell and again Goransson’s score is part of the reason we knew exactly what was coming next when Cap said “I know somewhere” before we even saw an image of Wakanda. But Phase 4, in my opinion, needs to make this more important as we introduce new characters.

Music has a way of echoing memories and ideas that we’ll immediately associate with an event or in this case a character and with the MCU heading into uncharted territory with what’s looks like even more unique characters, adding memorable music will help audiences identify with them. A catchy tune can go a long way to making a good scene greater just ask the binary sunset in “A New Hope” and it can make a character truly standout.

Imagine the next Avenger’s films if you will as all these new heroes come together on screen all their theme music coming together to culminate in one epic version of the Avengers suite. It will be glorious if done right and the MCU needs to make this happen with inventive composers and film scores in Phase 4.

Save the X-Men for Phase 5

I know with the Fox deal and the whimpering flameout of “Dark Phoenix” fans are clamoring to see what Disney and Marvel Studios can do to bring in everyone’s favorite team of mutants but I say “hold up.”

As much as I would love to see a (hopefully) more faithful rendition of the X-Men I think we need a breather from Professor X, Cyclops, Beast and especially Wolverine. The X-Men franchise has been going on for over two decades and as much as we would all like to see these mutants get some much needed redemption after “Apocalypse” and “Dark Phoenix” I think general audiences need a breather. Yes, The MCU brought in Spider-man barely two years after the “Amazing” franchise which flamed out badly as well but Spider-man, even by its franchise standards, had a considerably smaller catalogue left behind when he made his debut in “Civil War.”

I think teasing the reappearance of the X-Men in Phase 4 is probably fine. Maybe dropping clues on the existence of mutants, maybe mentioning an alternate universe they come from because chances are their backstory will be retconned but either way the X-Men should be left on the backburner for Phase 4.

(Deadpool though? Keep’em coming.)

Make Phase 5 all about the emergence of mutants, build them up as a great new team for the MCU and perhaps even pit them against the Avengers down the road. Either way, let the X-Men have a break for now. They need it after what Fox did to them.

Bring in Diverse New Heroes

Oh, here comes that dreaded word that makes the slimiest denizens of the internet overreact and proclaim they’re not the “oversensitive” ones (in all CAPs of course).

The MCU had its fun with its main cast of primarily white Marvel staples over the past decade and if they’re going to show that they have new ideas and new stories to tell it should begin by bringing in browner heroes.

“Black Panther” was largely a breath of fresh air for the franchise because it told a very personal and relatable story to the society we live, primarily on the struggles of being a minority. The story wasn’t a simple good vs evil tale or nonspecific theme about family and love but of something deeply wrong in the world and it’s the reason it resonated as much it did.

The MCU is already making way for its first Asian American hero in Shang Chi, which is a good start but it shouldn’t end there either. Diverse heroes should be its next flagship for the new era of the MCU. Bring in Amadeus Cho, Ms. Marvel, and hell start teasing Miles Morales.

(And don’t give me that bullshit that black Spider-man can’t appeal to mass audiences...)

I can already hear the idiots shouting at the screen right now about “white erasure” or some other bull shit about reverse racism and/or forced diversity. First of all, these people would bitch about diversity no matter what way it was brought in. If a hero is turned from white to brown it’s “Why can’t they bring in a new brown hero?” If they bring in a new brown hero it’s “Why are they bringing in a new brown hero? No one cares.” And if people do care it’s “Forced diversity.” All I have to say to you people is you keep shifting around the goal posts so much to the point that it makes me wonder what you are actually angry about?

The MCU needs brand new blood and given that it again made a talking Raccoon a fan favorite there’s nothing that tells me this is a bad time to bring in more brown heroes from Marvel’s lesser known catalog. It isn’t that I or even other minority fans hate white heroes (I wrote an entire article on how much I love the MCU’s Captain America afterall) but for the sake of showing that these diverse heroes matter and giving them a chance to shine on the big screen this is needed. It wasn’t long ago that barely anybody knew who Black Panther was, now you have folks throwing up “Wakanda Forever” signs on their Instagram and social media and reading his graphic novels. So, open your mind up a bit and stop being a child about “forced diversity.” Thor was still epic as hell when he brought down Storm Breaker in “Infinity War,” Captain America still inspires patriotism in even the most cynical of souls and Iron Man saved the universe with a snap of his fingers. Your white heroes (and fragility) stories will survive a little spice in this franchise.

How the MCU truly proceeds from here will be interesting. There are already projects in motion of course and fans should probably be excited for it regardless of what I have written here but I do truly hope a lot of these happen in Phase 4. Marvel needs better more consistent villains going forward, the cosmic side of the comics deserves more exploration, better soundtracks will make these movies better, the X-Men need a break, and after 23 movies we could stand add a few more brown people to the mix.

Hopefully The Mouse is listening…

“Huhah! I own all future box office revenue regardless anyways, you peasants. Huhah!”

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thesinglesjukebox · 5 years

Video

youtube

JAMILA WOODS - BALDWIN

[8.20]

Her legacy is secure on our sidebar, but she clearly has more lofty ambitions...

Alfred Soto: Absorbing James Baldwin's incantatory power into musical history that encompasses soul horns and a unforced communitarian spirit, Jamila Woods remains skeptical of his legacy anyway. She understands how an influence is a menace too. [8]

Nellie Gayle: How do you live a legacy, honor a history, that's equally heartbreaking and triumphant? Jamila Woods brings brightness and joy to her reflections on African American history in the United States, without ignoring the trauma implicit in its story. "Your crown has been bought and paid for. All you have to do is put in on your head" the video quotes from Baldwin. Much like the author she named the track after, Woods will not gloss over the daily suffering and indignities of white supremacy in the US. But also like Baldwin, she's an optimist who derives happiness and hardwon joy from a history of resistance. So long as there is a vibrant culture and community whose stories deserve to be celebrated (not just told), Woods will literally sing its praises with melodies reminiscent of Bill Withers - upbeat, sunny, and heartfelt. Another Baldwin quote for Woods, one that deserves to be framed & hung up on bedroom walls in times like these: "To be a pessimist means that you have agreed that human life is an academic matter, so I'm forced to be an optimist. I'm forced to believe that we can survive whatever we must survive." [9]

Nortey Dowuona: A warm, dreamlike roll of piano chords swirl with the wind as a loping bass limps alongside dribbling drums as warm bursts of horns drift past Jamila, who gently stirs the cauldron, which bubbles warmly as the kids gather around in cautious excitement. [9]

Kylo Nocom: "BALDWIN" is a perfect explanation of how the idea of (argh!) optimistic and loving resistance can (often justifiably) feel like a pointless endeavour, especially when applied to the struggles of black Americans. Poetic descriptions of gentrification, police brutality, and non-black inaction are painfully outlined, betraying a central exhaustion that lies in Jamila's doubts of her friends' and icons' messages of hope. Jamila's croon also reads as tired, perhaps unintentionally, but with the help of some tasteful vocal accompaniment the sincerity beneath her uneasiness is allowed to flourish. Despite the underlying hesitance, "BALDWIN" is ultimately inspired by a real desire to see love as a means towards building community. As for Nico Segal, it seems he was just invited to aim at my weakness towards percussive horn blasts, punctuating the lines that seem to resonate the most powerfully: "we don't go out, can't wish us away." [9]

Joshua Lu: Utterly sublime and warm, like the aural equivalent of a hazy summertime sunset, which is startling for a song with this subject matter. "BALDWIN" touches on the different ways racism manifests, bringing up not just images of black fathers dead on the streets and white women clutching their purses, but also referencing the "casual violence" in white speech and white silence. It's subtly damning, and Jamila sounds too weary to accept the solution she's been offered, to extend love to the people who will never reciprocate it. The song ends uncertainly, hanging on a cryptic line and an unsatisfying melody, as if daring the listener to provide their own resolution. [8]

Joshua Copperman: "BALDWIN" struggles with its namesake's theory that "you must accept them with love" - 'them' referring to white people - "for these innocent people have no other hope." How is love even possible, even in Woods' definition of love, with the aggressions both macro (police brutality) and micro (purse-clutching) addressed in the lyrics? Obviously, there aren't easy answers, but Woods' educated guess on surviving is not just resilience, but community. That chorus starts with "all my friends" for a reason. It's not quite as anarchic as "You can tell your deity I'm alright/Wake up in the bed, call me Jesus Christ," but it's the same eventual conclusion. Instead of defying religion, Woods defies the expectation of being respectable. That's the interesting thing about this beat too, from Slot-A, mixing more traditional R&B instrumentation like Rhodes piano and canned synth pads with trap snares and horn stabs. He takes advantage of Woods' thin voice, not only contrasting it with those heavier textures but also giving it space to breathe. Another hook of this song - there are several - is "You don't know a thing about our story/you tell it wrong all the time," suggesting that if love alone won't overcome, telling your own tale will be more than sufficient. [9]

Will Adams: So many (usually white) musicians handle the topic of racism as deftly as if it were a hot potato slathered in grease. Jamila Woods cuts to the core in a single verse, addressing police brutality, gentrification and purse-clutching casual racism. The arc of the song is balancing that anger with weariness of those who preach civility in the face of hate. If that all sounds a bit too down, Nico Segal's punctuation in the form of bright horn stabs are there to keep the message alive and resonant. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Not the most transcendent piece on LEGACY! LEGACY! (see "BASQUIAT"), but a close competitor. The jazzy production sets the groove well, and the stabs of Nico Segal's horns and Gospel-adjacent choirs fill the space beautifully. But it's Jamila herself who takes "Baldwin" from something pleasant to something glorious. She bridges romance, protest, and memory like no one else can, melding them with her sweet, pointed voice into the album's best demonstration of its thesis. [9]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: "BALDWIN" is a song that finds Jamila Woods detailing the outright, inescapable racism that occurs against Blacks every day. In referencing James Baldwin, she makes clear how such fear and hatred-fueled actions have persisted to the present day. But what makes this so fascinating a song is that Woods muddies the waters; she spends a bit of time wrestling with the positivity that Baldwin espoused throughout his lifetime, finding herself conflicted by the effectiveness of such praxis. In a way, listening to this feels like a legitimate Sermon on the Mount moment, where "lov[ing] your enemy and pray[ing] for those who persecute you" comes as a shocking command instead of a spoonfed Sunday School lesson. Miraculously, "BALDWIN" doesn't end up feeling knotty and tense, but overwhelmingly triumphant. You can sense it in the gospel choir and Nico Segal's horns, but it's Woods's own silk-smooth vocals and circuitous melodies that announce her impossible serenity. Has she found truth in such ostensible cognitive dissonance, or is she too elated to be bothered by this disagreement? That internal struggle finds no conclusion here, but Woods transcends it all by being an inspiration herself. She embodies something that Baldwin had written to his nephew in 1962--a specific instruction that feels ever necessary today: "You don't be afraid." [7]

Iris Xie: With such a clear, gentle series of asks here, you would have to have an adherence to bigotry, or at least avoiding the discomfort of examining your own internalized anti-Black biases, in order to avoid considering what Woods is saying here. I think about this a lot as a queer Asian American, what my responsibility is to the project of helping not contribute and help demolish the project of anti-Blackness as enacted by white supremacist institutions and those who are complicit and facilitate them, especially when I see the amount of pain in both the news and what my friends experience. The line of "All my friends / Been readin' the books / readin' the books you ain't read" cuts deep for me especially, because I have an Bachelor's degree in Gender, Sexuality, and Women's Studies, which is an enormous amount of privilege in itself to receive and is due to countless activist histories that made that possible. It also made me think of the sheer amount of books about queer Black feminism that I genuinely feel I've barely scratched the surface of understanding, but am always in awe of the brilliance exuding forth. All of it is already written here for anyone to read, with new scholarship and articles and media produced all the time to help digest and made accessible for the rest of us. The loveliness of this song is that in its quiet neo-soul tempos, with the subtle snares, synths, and horns, results in a vibe she is secure in itself and asks the listener to move towards Woods. Black activists have put together the work and articulated these for decades, for any of us to read. The least we can do is listen and pay attention, as a complete bare minimum. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Jamila Woods #soul #music #music review #writing

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