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wu-kongs · 2 years

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MK needs another perspective besides nezha (not that he wasn't useful, but more couldn't hurt), but again he faces the problem on who he could ask. Maybe someone that is also closer to macaque too since both monkeys are needed to resolve this, but who could fit that bill? *in the distance, demon bull king and princess iron fan shudder in unison*

"when i discovered what that wretched monkey—" iron fan says coldly, "—had done to my xiaodi, i wanted to tear him limb from limb. hell was not hot enough for that filthy creature."

MK shudders, ice through his veins and chilling over his spine at her words. he thought it'd be a good idea to talk to her since red son was so insistent that macaque was his uncle, and apparently his favorite one at that. though it hadn't been easy to find someone who could give him insight on the monkey king's side of the story, it'd been practically impossible to think of anyone who'd give him a leg up on figuring out what macaque's deal was. red son was his best lead, unfortunately!

iron fan looks at him, notes his nervousness, and then clicks her tongue. after a moment to compose herself, she turns away, the short train of her robes swinging smoothly after her as she steps over to a plush chair to settle down.

"after he joined that miserable monk, wukong... changed. he had become someone different from the king who'd been on the verge of felling the entirety of heaven." wrath begins to melt to a somber disappointment and vague hurt that MK isn't sure is real—the nearby fireplace crackles, flickering tricky and unreliable embers over iron fan's face.

"wukong had been the pinnacle of our kind, the one we all looked to, who had defied death and heaven time and again. he was a god among us. no one had been more aware of than than liu'er." any admiration that may have crept into her tone is promptly clipped by a sneer. "it went to his head. he remembered none of it when he began to pick us off one by one, as if all we simply were only scum of the earth." she pinches the bridge of her nose.

every one of her words weighs more and more on MK's shoulders and he finds himself lowering to the ground. this is a new side of the monkey king MK has never heard of, or even thought about. he supposes what they say is true: the winners do write the history books.

"...when the band of sworn siblings had received word of the monkey king's return, and that he was methodically eliminating us... we did not want to believe it. liu'er did not want to believe it—and for his sake, neither did i." she turns her sights on the dancing flames, eyes narrowed as if to shun away the memories. she then snaps to look right at MK, glaring. MK flinches from his settled spot on the rugs.

"listen to me, boy. i only tell you this because i..." her nose wrinkles the barest amount, as if this was difficult for her to admit, "i believe you have some measure of ability to resolve this matter. do not betray me."

he swallows thickly and nods furiously—what else is he supposed to do here? say no to the terrifying princess iron fan? he might as well dig his own grave!

she sighs like this a grievous thing he's putting her through, and he only feels a little bad about it; the bad blood is obviously still so prevalent here and he's not doing much but dredging it up.

"liu'er and wukong..." her eyes trail back to the fire. "they were inseparable. it wasn't simply a matter of their being together all the time, it was... it was as if two pieces of the same being had been separated before it was born and those pieces were in an endless cycle of attempting to reunite. not many noticed it, and those who did silently agreed to say nothing of it. it was not the sort of matter you pointed out for fear of throwing the balance into chaos."

MK swallowed thickly, a tide of nausea starting to rise in.

"liu'er, that fool... he adored mei houwang, was constantly found in his shadow, beheld him as the sun and all the stars above in his eyes." pure contempt smolders in iron fan's eyes, punctuated by the flames reflected there. "and although i detest wukong with the every fiber of my being, i will not lie and say it wasn't an unrequited adoration... they were disgusting. it was as if they wanted to live in each other's skin."

her fist clenches from where it rests on the arm of the chair. goosebumps rise on MK's skin despite the warmth.

"and then wukong was captured." she growls. "he had been the spearhead of our armies, and we quickly fell into disarray without him. liu'er had tried his best to regroup us—many of us did, but without the monkey king, our forces were unable to stop the might of heaven, and we scattered to the winds to survive."

"liu'er did not give up, but... his constant attempts eventually caused much of the destruction of flower fruit mountain. he had become so relentless to rejoin his other half that it blinded him to those he still had to take care of. he refused to stop chasing the monkey king."

"i can only imagine what he must've thought when wukong resurfaced, alive by whatever miracles and luck—and now in the servitude of a buddhist monk of all things... but chase he did, and ultimately, it led to his doom."

silence, thick and suffocating, reigns over the dim sitting room for a long moment. iron fan lets MK absorb the tale, and his mind races for it. he doesn't know what to make of this. he knew that macaque and the monkey king had... some weird thing going on, but this. this? way more than what he bargained for.

whatever they were—lovers, friends, allies—didn't just fall apart. it was ripped apart mercilessly, and nothing could've stopped it. MK sees that now. he's learned enough about both of them to figure that out. it was always going to happen, like... like fate.

he suddenly laughs, the edge of it hysterical and lost. he's out of his depth here. he's sooo out of his depth. this whole thing is millennia in the making, and he's supposed to fix it? he's supposed to, what, undo those thousands of years of tragedy? iron fan looks at him, expression stony.

"they're fools, the both of them," she says. "and with this... eyeball in the mix, they will chase each other's tails around forever until one of them forfeits."

"what am i supposed to do about this?" his voice quakes, eyebrows tented and smile pained and frantic.

the barest hint of pity flickers over iron fan's face. "niu and i have had our fair share of... marital challenges. all i can offer you, child, is honesty. it's not you who can mend what you haven't broken. they're not your pieces to collect. you may provide the glue, but they will have to use it themselves."

MK slumps, face dropping into his hands. "that's basically what prince nezha told me..." he grumbles sadly.

she studies him.

"i will add only this, then," she then says, and he perks up slightly. "i know liu'er. i have known him a long time. a foremost fool, i will always say—and he will always love wukong, no matter what has happened between them. whether wukong will allow that love is yet to be seen, but i know this is a two-way road."

he blinks at her, absorbing her words

prince nezha said the monkey king is still holding on to who macaque used to be. princess iron fan says macaque will chase the monkey king forever. they still obviously care about each other a lot, whether they'll admit it or not.

MK just needs to find a way to make them be honest about it.

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ledenews · 1 year

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Flashback: Memories of … Park Dances

(Publisher's Note: Although this piece was composed a little more than two years ago, the recollections remain the same. Park Dances were a "thing" for teenagers in the Wheeling area for several decades, but since Wheeling Park's White Palace has been completely renovated into a year-round meeting place. The current $3.2 million renovation project is expected to be completed by May 2024.) Yes, there was the occasional fight, but those usually involved high schoolers from two different districts and over a girl. Let’s be honest; those dances made inductions to possible dating mates from across the Ohio River, and the territorial boys were, we’ll say, protective. But it’s this time of year that leads many Wheeling natives back to the 1980s because it is now wind-down time for the weekly “Park Dances” inside the White Palace at Wheeling Park. At the time, schools opened in late August or early September, so the final few events were must-go events. It was the place to be seen. It was the chance to let it go. It was the place to be seen, honestly, and the crowd was normally a sea of teenagers from both sides of the Ohio River. The music? Popular DJs like Bob Dorris and Donnie “Roberts” Gilbert would spin the best of the '80s, but “Rock Lobster” by the B-52’s was one of the only tunes that would draw both boys and the girls to the dance floor. The White Palace has long been a gathering place in the city of Wheeling. Wide Open These days, the White Palace is not as wide open as it was 35 years ago since it has been transitioned into an educational area on the first floor and a banquet hall on the second, where the dances took place. But back then it was open air with those same teenagers sitting on the ledges, and that was expected and OK because liability lawsuits were not as prevalent then as they are today. And the view was usually interesting since couple after couple could be seen sneaking away to go “golfing” somewhere on the park’s nine-hole course. Those strolls, though, caused some of the altercations later on in the evening, and word would spread throughout the arena that fight night was on. There was no telling where the brawl would erupt, but all eyes were on the door to see when the “golfers” would pay to get back in. These days, the ballroom is used for wedding receptions, and the bottom level has featured many different amenities. Rock Lobster During the mid-1980s, the music industry continued to be influenced by the foreign influence, but Michael Jackson established himself as the “King of Pop” at the same time. Normally, must of the young men attending would ogle from the sidelines, and the single guys would do their best to select the ladies they would ask to dance when a Journey or Lionel Ritchie song would be played. Couples always hit the dance floor when the DJs spun “Endless Love” to show their undying dedication to each other … until something stupid would break them up, of course. Popular in the 1980s were tunes like Beat It by Michael Jackson, I love Rock n’ Roll by Joan Jett, When Doves Cry by Prince, and Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cindi Lauper. The only song, though, that would drive everyone in attendance to the dance floor was a little ditty by the B-52’s because there was no determined choreography for Rock Lobster … except, of course, almost hitting the floor to, “Down, Down, Down …. ” Wheeling Park's band stand continues to be rented for parties and picnics. Romance in the Air The lights came on, and the dances were over at 11 p.m., and most of the high schoolers immediately would travel down National Road to the corner where Rax was located and was, at the time, the No. 1 restaurant in the chain. Some, though, would not seek sustinance offered by the BBC but instead love as they found an isolated spot to park and, well, play a little “baseball.” Now, some Park Dance patrons would not wait until the end as they wandered off to “go golfing” or went up to the bandstand that was beyond the old wishing well. The romances created during the Park Dances usually led to Homecoming dates, and in some cases, lasting love that is still alive today. That is why, on June 29, 2013, a group of local residents teamed up to stage Park Dances Revisited at the Wheeling Park ice rinks, and the event drew natives from all corners of the country. Read the full article

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neverjustanutgraph · 3 years

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A little bit risky (Karppi X Nurmi)

Here's one for the shippers. A little post-S3 fanfic to get us all through the cold winter months.

Plenty of smut [cough] tasteful explorations of consensual adult relationships, of course. Because let’s be honest, we all know what we’re here for…

But ultimately a character study of Nurmi and the way he relates to Karppi, which also fills in some of his backstory.

Hope you enjoy

(3 chapter. 7K words)

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ROUTINE

Karppi cleared the plates off the table and stacked them with the pots and pans already piled up on the counter, waiting to be washed. She couldn’t remember the last time her kitchen had seen this kind of action. It may have been never.

“So can I?” Emil asked, scraping the last bits of desert off his plate. “Can I go play video games?”

“Did you finish homework?”

“Yeah.”

“OK. Half an hour. But then bed.”

He scurried off, eager not to lose precious time.

“And brush your teeth first!” she shouted after him.

In the pile of dirty dishes, her eyes fell on a cheese grater she didn’t recognize.

“Did you bring this from your flat?”

Nurmi, who was busy scraping pasta sauce off the floor where Leo sat, looked up briefly.

“Nope. It’s yours.”

“Really? Who knew.”

He had come over to cook for them, a thank you for another night when she’d helped him through a nasty ear infection – Leo’s not his – picking up medicine and groceries while he tried to distract Leo with choo choo trains and ice cream. Emil had been along for the ride, playing video games and raiding Nurmi’s junk food drawer, while the four of them waited for the meds to kick in and pizza to arrive. Karppi’s kid had become somewhat of a regular at the flat since Nurmi had gone on paternity leave – one of many arrangements that had crept in over the last three months. So now Nurmi made sure he kept a stockpile of Pringles, Emil’s favourites, in the drawer. It had all started with Emil dropping by to check out a new game Nurmi had bought, and now, once or twice a week, he popped over after school and they’d play a level while Leo took his afternoon nap. Twice, Emil had stood in front of a closed door when Nurmi was back late from the playground, so he’d given him a key. It had been years since he’d handed out a key to anyone that wasn’t his cleaner, but it was Emil so it wasn’t a big deal. And besides, he currently had no sex life to speak of that the kid could walk in on, so the arrangement seemed safe for now.

Talking of keys, he remembered he still had Karppi’s from earlier that night.

“Before I forget,” he said, sliding it onto the counter. He’d let himself in when he arrived from the supermarket, bags full of groceries. She had been late as usual, so he’d grabbed it from her super secret hiding place.

“Just put it back under the mat when you leave,” she said.

His face never failed to show his horror over her home security, but he liked to stress the point. “I still can’t believe you’re a cop and you keep your key under the mat.”

“Are we really having this conversation again?” She was behind the counter, fighting with the dishwasher, trying to make everything fit. He imagined the eye roll. “It’s been there for years and nobody has come to kill us yet.”

“That’s comforting.”

Nurmi lifted Leo from his seat, wiped his face and handed him the iPad he’d been nagging about for the last half hour. Somewhere, Nurmi thought, someone was busy deducting points from his parenting scorecard. But he didn’t care. He needed a moment of not being dad tonight. He watched Leo plop down on the couch and flinched when he heard the opening bars to his favourite youtube program, a mind-numbing three-chord ditty Nurmi had heard so often that it had become the stuff of his nightmares. “How about you take that to Emil’s room. Off you go.”

In the kitchen, Karppi kicked the dishwasher door into submission and raised her arms in triumph. “Success!”

“Next time,” she said, “maybe keep it a bit more simple.”

Tonight was another point on the list of things that had snuck up on them. Having dinner together was not a daily thing by any means but it happened often enough lately that they knew their way around the other’s kitchen, though Karppi’s contributions generally consisted of ordering take out.

She’d helped him through his early parenting freak-outs, of which there had been many: Swallowed objects. Inexplicable meltdowns. Mysterious rashes. Just getting out of the house in the morning required an unfathomable amount of steps and items, and he’d learned the hard way that forgetting even just one could be disastrous. Stuffed animals, in particular, were never to be left behind.

The first week at his house, Leo had cried for his mother so much that by the end of it Nurmi’d been close to tears himself just from pure exhaustion. He’d called Karppi in the middle of the night sounding manic, questioning if he’d made the right decision, and when she arrived he’d wanted nothing more than to hand Leo to her and ask her to keep him. She’d taken the child in her lap and sung to him, read to him, but nothing helped, and the episode ended with the three of them slumped on the floor and Leo crying himself to sleep in Nurmi’s arms. “Get used to failure,” she’d said over their first shot of Single Malt afterwards. “There’s going to be a lot more of it. Welcome to parenthood.”

So while she may not have been a baby whisperer, she had his back. In return, he made sure Emil had company when she was working late and he saw to it that she ate a proper meal once in a while. Besides, he was getting bored of not working and eager to hear about her cases. And she liked having someone with fresh eyes to bounce ideas off of.

So here they were, Thursday night dinner at hers. The routine was unspoken but he knew it by heart: Next, she’d bring out the liquor. He’d pour the glasses while she changed into her PJs in the other room. Then, she’d bring out photos from the latest case she was working on and they’d go over it together. Sometimes he would talk about his day with Leo. Funny things he’d said or done. A moment of levity to end the day. Then he’d pick up his newly acquired toddler from Emil’s room and carry him the 500 meters to their house across the river. Their house. It still sounded odd to him, the fact that he was a “we” now. Sakke and Leo.

It was an easy routine they’d fallen into, him and Karppi, and god knows, they both could use something easy in their life right now. So he didn’t question it. He just rolled with it.

“Bourbon?” she asked, from the kitchen cabinet. “Or vodka?”

“Ooph. Definitely not vodka.”

“Bourbon it is.” She put the bottle on the table on her way to the bedroom. “Be right back.”

He found the proper glasses in the cupboard – no doubt relics of Jussi’s, she was savage when it came to stuff like this – poured a generous amount in each, and settled into the sofa. He took a sip and rested his eyes for a minute, the bourbon kicking in smooth and warm.

“Long day?” he heard her ask. She’d re-emerged in sweats with a stack of papers.

“Have a look at these,” she said and slid a photo across the table. He recognized the case, but the picture was new. It was a car accident she’d been working on, an Audi that had gone off the road into the river and the driver had died. It was one of those cases that looked cut and dried and the bosses were eager for her to close it, but Karppi had a weird feeling about it, so she’d been pushing for more time to have a closer look.

“Look at the size of that man.” The picture was the usual morgue shot that left little to the imagination. But they’d long stopped being squeamish about that stuff.

“And now have a look at the size of that car window.” A second picture showed the Audi, soaked, with the driver’s window down.

“How does a man that size end up floating outside of his car?” she asked rhetorically.

“Maybe the body swelled in the water.”

“That much? Seems unlikely.”

And she was probably right. But this was his role now, pushing back against her theories. Making her find other ways to prove them so her case would become stronger.

“What else have you got?”

She produced a couple more pictures and some recent bank transactions that raised more questions, and the two of them debated possible scenarios for a while.

“Be right back,” Nurmi said after finishing his glass, and he disappeared into the hallway. On the way back from the bathroom, he stopped by Emil’s room, which was unexpectedly quiet. The door was ajar and he opened it just enough to look inside. Emil was asleep in his bed, one arm around Leo. Nurmi felt something similar to the bourbon work its way through his chest.

“Karppi,” he whispered down the hallway. “Come check this out.”

They leaned on opposite ends of the door, taking in the scene, and smiled. He wanted to slip his arm around her, touch her in some way that fit the moment, but he let the moment pass. “Emil’s been great with him,” he said instead, with gratitude.

“He used to lobby me and Jussi for a little brother,” Karppi remembered. Nurmi watched her mind go somewhere else and waited for the thought to pass.

“Let’s leave them,” he said finally, and he reached to close the bedroom door. “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.” When he turned back and faced her, her eyes were waiting for him.

She took the lead, as she always did, moving towards him slowly but decisively, her eyes fixed on his, like she was daring him to a challenge. She had always been the braver one, he thought, more willing to take risks, unafraid of the consequences. That trait often scared him when they worked together. But right then, and all those times she’d kissed him before, it made him feel secure, like she knew the road trough rocky terrain and she was going to take him by the hand. But maybe it wasn’t her bravery at all. Maybe it was her uncanny ability to see things that lie beneath, which let her know there was no risk at all, taking away any fear of rejection, any doubt that this was what he wanted too and he needed her to take him there.

She softly put a hand on his chest as she leaned into him, pausing halfway, teasing him, like what she wanted was inevitable and she could take her time. And of course she was right. She let her nose touch his and for a moment they both closed their eyes.

He kept them closed even when he felt her lips on his, savouring the sensation. He only opened them when she stopped. He found her looking at him, biting her bottom lip like she often did when she was pensive. It always made his head spin. He patiently waited for her next move. Because he wanted more – he always wanted more of whatever she had to offer him. So he was relieved when she kissed him again, softly, just once. Then she whispered: “Do you want this?”

The question surprised him and put him off balance. It was like she suddenly let go of his hand and he didn’t know whether to go forward or backward. He knew she wasn’t just being seductive – she was making him take responsibility for his desire. It was her way of saying: I got us this far, now I need you to show me you’ve got skin in the game too. If she’d waited a minute longer, her question would have been moot. Certain parts of his body would have outright dismissed any objections his head may have made. But he was sure she knew that too. Her timing, no doubt, was deliberate.

Instead, he felt that familiar warm flood of anxiety. Fight or flight. Her eyes were fixed on his again. Those big daring eyes. He’d learned to hold their gaze. He no longer got uncomfortable with her looking at him in that way, like he once did. But now she’d ambushed him and he had to will himself to keep looking. Part of him wanted to break away, to go somewhere where he didn’t feel so exposed. But it also felt exciting to be exposed, to have someone look at you in that way.

He rushed forward to kiss her with a force that startled her and that landed them both against the wall. For a second he thought this was going to be the point where the kids wake up and all would stop, like it had before. But the room stayed quiet and they kept exploring each other, in new ways, in new places. The release of fear mixed with desire was intoxicating and he had to be careful not to make them fall as they spun and stumbled their way to her bedroom. She closed the door, locked it and stood before him. She took a moment to study him, like she was contemplating what to do with him. Then she slowly lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head. When he freed himself from the sleeves, he wanted to reach for her, touch her, but he held back. Not because of fear but because she was in control again and she wanted it this way. He let her. He held his breath when she kissed his chest. He sighed when her hands moved down to his belly. It was all he could do to keep from picking her up right then and dropping her onto the bed, but he didn’t. She held his gaze when she undid his belt. And when she pushed his pants to the floor, he stepped out of them nonchalantly, giving her the slightest of smiles. He was not afraid of her. Not anymore. He was getting comfortable being exposed with her, thrilled to feel her eyes on his body now – not because he wanted to be admired, but because he wanted her to know him, and he wanted to know all of her.

When she undressed in front of him it felt at once new and familiar, exciting and comfortable all at the same time. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, but it seemed trite, almost irrelevant in that moment. He felt a pang in his chest when he watched her slowly shed the layers of her clothes: the slouchy black t-shirt she always wore around the house, the flannel pyjama pants that were frayed at the bottom, the colored cotton undies that looked like they might have come from the teen’s section of H&M.

Plenty of women had undressed for him before. Beautiful women, sexy women, some whom you might call perfect: models, exotic dancers, entry-level socialites with outsized beauty budgets. But when they undressed for him it moved him only in the predictable places – none above the belt line. If he was ever nervous in those moments, it was usually ego, the desire to perform some porn-like ideal of sex that affirmed his masculinity.

In comparison, the nerves he was feeling now were almost boyish, like he was about to kiss his high school crush for the first time. There was nothing self-serving about it, just pure anticipation. Of course he was a man now and he wanted her in every way. He wanted to feel her, taste her, satisfy her. But those were all just new ways of knowing her, learning more about her, feeling closer to her.

When she stood naked before him, he placed both hands on her cheeks and pulled her in, like he’d done back then by the waterfront, just softer. The warmth of her skin against his made him kissed her with an urgency he didn’t know he had. And when her hands explored his body, he finally lost whatever control he had left. He guided them onto the bed, the two of them a flurry of hands trailing backs, touching breasts and probing areas all together more new and exciting.

He kissed his way down her belly, taking his time. When he reached his ultimate destination, she grabbed onto the bed sheets and exhaled. “Oh god... Fuck.”

He took it as a sign he was on the right track and carried on exploring. But she was impatient. “Come here," she said, her hands in his hair, and softly urged him back up. The message was clear: This could wait. Right now she wanted something else from him, and he was more than willing to oblige.

When he lowered himself to kiss her, she pulled him in closer, eager hands reaching for shoulder blades, reaching for ass cheeks, urging him to find her. She made no secret of the fact that she wanted him and neither did her body.

It was an overload of senses. Her scent, her touch, the little noises she made when he moved inside her. Her kisses were raw and her touch was urgent. Her fingers greedy for his skin, greedy for his hair, greedy to guide him to parts of her body she wanted him to explore. And the way she moved below him said she wanted even more of him.

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected but he wasn’t quite prepared for the intensity of her. Or perhaps it was the intensity of them. Three years of foreplay coming to this. For a second he thought he was going to lose it right then and there, and he tensed up. She must have felt it too, because she stopped and sought his eyes, checking in. In years on the job, they’d learned to say a lot with their eyes.

He looked up at the ceiling and exhaled, catching his breath. She cupped his face and he leaned into her, eyes closed, seeking out her touch. They studied each other for a moment. Then suddenly, and inexplicably, she stuck out her tongue and grinned.

Good god, who was she? Who was this woman who clawed at him one moment like she was possessed and then did the most unsexy thing he could think of, taunting him like some five-year-old on the playground?

There, she did it again! He was trying not to laugh, but he couldn’t help himself. He shook his head, incredulous. But then he did it too, just once, and they both laughed.

“Hi,” she said, as if she’d just found him in her bed.

“Hey.”

Her hand caressed his temple, then his neck, down to his shoulder. He felt his body relax. There it was again, that innate ability she had to know what he needed and reach out to him. It was a childlike desire, wanting someone to reach out to you like that, meet unspoken needs. It was an unrealistic expectation to have in adulthood, but it was still what people wished for who hadn’t learned to ask for things, and that, he supposed, included him.

He moved his palm along her thigh. She smiled and threw her arms behind her head, a gesture so free and careless that it made him think of kids making snow angels.

He brushed a strand of hair from her face and studied her. God, her breasts were magnificent. He’d spent many hours in their company and possibly even more hours imagining what they looked like under those woolly sweaters. So it seemed rude not to at least introduce himself properly.

“Well, hello,” he said kissing his way down her right one, while his hand explored the left. He could feel her belly moving when she giggled.

He loved how they responded to his touch, to his kiss, his tongue. He bit down a little, teasing her.

“Ou! Bastard.”

He looked up mischievously. “Sorry.”

As a sign of apology, he placed a soft kiss on her left boob. She pretended she was still offended.

“I’ll report you to HR for inappropriate conduct.”

“If you think this is inappropriate, wait till I’m done with you.”

He positioned himself so their eyes were level, staring down at her, making her wait.

She nonchalantly ran a foot along his ass, giving him that smile that said, “show me what you got.” He held her gaze and cupped her cheek. Then he kissed her, delicately. First her lips, then her neck, then her collarbone, his lips barely touching her body. The softer he caressed her, the more charged he became, not in his groin but all over his skin, like static energy that built not from friction but the absence of it. So when he finally buried his hands in her hair and kissed her deeply, he felt the jolt in his shoulder blades and tingling down his spine. His fingers found hers on the bed, spreading them, clasping them, holding them firmly in place. Right now, she was his, and he was going to take his time. She closed her eyes and arched her back, and when he finally gave in to her, she clasped his hands tighter. This, he thought, was a drug he’d have a hard time shaking.

They found a rhythm and he gradually returned to exploring her body, less rushed this time. There was time to caress thighs and study ears and trace the contours of her hips. And when she reached to wrap her arms around him, holding him tight like she’d done so many times before, he savored the sensation. It grounded them.

He complied easily when she moved him onto his back, one hand firmly on his chest, taking charge of her own pleasure. And what a sight she was. He watched pearls of sweat run down her breasts and meet in her belly button, and when she threw back her head to tame her wild blond hair, he swore she was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

Have your way with me, he thought, I’ll be here enjoying the view. He liked how she used his body for her own desire, and he took mental notes of all the sounds and sensations, all the things that made her feel good. He loved being the source of her pleasure. And in that moment he vowed to make it his mission to find out everything she liked.

When she leaned down to kiss him she had that devilish smile on her face and he knew he was in for a ride. “Ohh fuck,” he whispered, when she began to move against him more forcefully. She giggled and bit his lip.

They played like this for a little longer, teasing and turning their way around her bed. And when they finally released all the energy that had built up between them – first she, than he– and he collapsed into her arms with a force that made her laugh, he felt something that had been absent from his life for a while. Joy

He’d often wondered what sex with her would be like. Would she be rough? Would she be soft? Would she dominate? Would she submit to him? Of course, the answer – as so often with her – was, all of the above.

_________________________________________________________

RESTLESS

He took a drag from her cigarette and looked up at the ceiling, his head resting on her belly, then he handed it back to her.

It was still dark outside and the cherry of the cigarette gave a faint orange tint to their little still life.

“Look at us,” she said. “We’re already turning into a cliché. Cigarettes after sex.”

“Does this mean I should buy more?”

“That depends,” she said. Her free hand was running through his hair, strong fingers grabbing big strands and releasing them again. “How many do we have left?”

“Maybe five,” he guessed.

“Well…” He could already hear the smirk in her voice. “That should bring us through the night.”

She caught his eyes and they laughed.

“’A’ for enthusiasm. But I’m not sure I have it in me anymore. You wore me out.”

“Let’s see your famous scar then,” she said mischievously, pulling at his blanket. He pretended to be annoyed but he’d always liked her teasing him. So he gladly played along and ceremoniously revealed his ass.

“Ah, that looks serious. Do you want me to kiss it better?”

“No, but I can think of other areas you could kiss better.”

He loved to make her laugh. It was loud and unstudied and he lived for it.

She handed him the butt of the cigarette, he took a last drag and put it out in the ashtray on the nightstand. Then he lay down next to her and pulled her close so her head would rest on his chest, her wild mane all his to play with.

She was out like a light in 5 minutes, but he lay awake for a long time – an hour, maybe more.

So they had transitioned from being friends who occasionally kissed to now being friends who occasionally fucked. Predictable? Maybe. But still, it warranted some reflection. If you wanted to get technical, they were colleagues who were also friends who now also occasionally fucked. What could possibly go wrong?

Three years ago, this level of complexity would have caused his brain to melt. But then again, if somebody had told him then that he’d be a single dad to a child that wasn’t technically his, he would have run for the hills too. And yet, here he was, one foot firmly outside of his comfort zone, finding his balance.

There’d been a lot of that recently, and not just with her. More than anything, becoming a father had brought out a buffet of complex feelings that were often more than he could chew, but he was getting better. There were levels of fear he’d not felt outside of his job, and shades of love he’d never felt at all. There were also sudden moments of sorrow for Leo’s tainted childhood, and deep anger over his own. It left him feeling raw and bruised. But somehow things had not fallen to shit yet, so he kept going.

And now he was here, in her bed, studying her naked body curled against his. Noticing his own. Unusually relaxed. For once, he didn’t feel like he had somewhere else to be. Didn’t have to measure his touch, as he lay beside a stranger in a state of post-coital politeness. And he wasn’t busy contemplating what lines to deliver next to stress nicely, but firmly, that there wouldn’t be a next time. There was always a next time with Karppi.

An image crossed his mind and he recoiled. A vague memory of another night. Another naked body by his side. God, how long had it been? Five months? Maybe Six? He’d picked her up at some bar in downtown Helsinki. Emma. Or maybe her name was Elli? He couldn’t remember. It was just before Leo came to live with him and he’d figured there might not be opportunities for a while, so he’d been proactive about it. The process followed the usual script. They’d eyed each other across the bar. He’d gone over and said hi. They’d flirted. A scene from a million bad Hollywood movies. They’d left together clear about what they wanted from each other. The sex, too, was as expected. Not bad, per se, but mechanical and a little awkward. He’d been fine with it. The goal was to scratch an itch, and that’s what he got. He’d secretly hoped she’d be gone when he woke up so he could skip the pleasantries. Instead, he’d found her in his kitchen making coffee. But he had a script for that, too.

There was no script for what was next for him and Karppi. But tonight they’d done something irreversible and there was something oddly calming about that. Like that split second after you pulled the trigger of your gun – the decision was made and you had to live with the consequences.

He felt his shoulder falling asleep under Karppi’s weight and repositioned himself, careful not to wake her. She found the crook of his arm blindly and nestled into it. It was easy to think they should have done this sooner, found comfort in each other in this way. But of course, there had been plenty of reasons not to. And there still were. But that point was moot now.

Did she have randoms after Jussi, like he did? The question had often crossed his mind. But he was never sure what he wanted the answer to be.

For a long time, his way of dealing with the tacit turmoil that was their relationship had been to not acknowledge it at all. It had been the proverbial elephant as long as he could remember – sometimes a large one, sometimes small – and he had grown used to living with it. Sometimes he’d engage with it, but more often than not it was just there, and he’d learned to make space for it without feeling the urge to do anything about it. And besides, he secretly liked the company.

But that was also where it became complicated. He had often feared that the steady progression of their relationship was inevitably going to run them off a cliff. Like lemmings merrily underway to committing mass suicide or those small marsupials that fucked themselves to death: they just couldn’t help themselves. He’d had a taste of what his work life would be like without her as a friend and partner and he didn’t particularly want to go back there. So the thought of risking this one point of stability in his life by adding another layer of complexity did still make him uneasy.

That was not the only reason, though, that he’d been passive with her before. Plenty of times it was simply that he felt like shit. Sometimes it was physical, but more often than not it was self-loathing. And recently there had been no shortage of opportunity for it. When he thought of the day he arrested Henna and the way Karppi looked at him then, a hand appeared to be grabbing his insides and tightening around his throat – shame. Or that time he fessed up he’d been picking up 17-year-olds and shooting up “a little heroin” to get through his day. Later that night, on her balcony, he’d wanted to kiss her, but shame over Nea had been riding shotgun. Of course, he should have known better – Karppi never punished failure, only betrayal.

The biggest reason he held back, though, was because he worried what would happen if he actually got what he wanted. He already knew he’d want more of it, and eventually he’d need it, and that was dangerous. It was like the heroin: he could take a little bit to dull the pain. But if he allowed himself to take even just a little more, he’d be on track for self-destruction. Measuring himself was a matter of self-preservation.

Or at least, that’s how it had felt to him for a long time. Now he was going through he achy process of reassessing his instincts. Karppi had never taken advantage of him when he let his guard down. Never kicked him when he was down. To the contrary. She had always reached out for him. Always rewarded him for being vulnerable. So he’d gradually allowed himself to relax a bit. It still felt risky, a little unsafe, to give someone that kind of power over you. But he’d long entrusted his safety to her, physical and otherwise, and he was still here. So there was that.

Karppi shivered in her sleep and he pulled the blanket up to cover her. When she turned, he wrapped himself around her, tightly. His eye fell on her wardrobe and he wondered what other lives of hers were hidden inside it. Were there sundresses she’d wear on vacation (a titillating thought) or workout gear for gym memberships he didn’t know about (unlikely)? Was there cheeky lingerie she kept for special occasions (he hoped there was), and what about formal wear? Did she even own heels?

“Extreme self-reliance is a trauma response,” a counsellor in university had once told him years ago. He’d stopped seeing her soon after that, uninterested in pursuing her line of inquiry. But the sentence had stuck with him and it occasionally reared its head in random moments, usually on nights like this when he was sleepless.

It didn’t take a psych degree, of course, to figure out why his sense of safety was built on being self-sufficient. When he came back to Finland in high school, he had little in common with anyone his age, least of all the kids in the small rural school where his grandmother lived. It wasn’t so much that they outright rejected him – although they weren’t particularly welcoming either – it was that he rejected them. On his first day at school a freckled kid with a bowl cut had asked him, seriously, if his house in South Africa had running water and a toilet, and Nurmi felt embarrassed for the boy. It set the tone for the next three years.

Growing up in Joburg, he blended seamlessly into the exclusive world of diplomat progenies, heiresses, army brats and humanitarian offspring from more countries than he could count. A world in which kids snuck rare imported liquor from their dads’ gift cabinets, weekend trips involved Jeep safaris, and his parents’ dinner parties resembled mini UN assemblies where guests debated the merits of peacekeeping missions and traded the latest backroom gossip in international diplomacy. So when he was suddenly dropped in bumfuck Finland, it felt like a cruel joke to him and he resented it. For a little while, his tragic story – which was the talk of the town even before he arrived – made him somewhat of an object of desire to the girls in his school. But he resented that, too, and their interest gradually waned. The truth was, he was arrogant and he was angry, and he spent most of high school surrounding himself with books. As a result, he didn’t really start dating until university in Helsinki. But even then he wasn’t making any real connections.

By this time, he had found other ways to create a sense of belonging and order in his life, which had spun so spectacularly out of control. He frequented the same coffee shops, not because the coffee was better there but because the liked the waiter knowing his order and politely asking about his day. “Double espresso, coming right up, Sakke. Ever fix that leak in your bathroom?” A semblance of a relationship for the cost of a hot beverage, no further investment required. It seemed like a good deal.

His actual “friends” in those days were wannabe bankers and finance bros –classmates with aspirations in the financial sector who first became his drinking buddies, then his coke buddies, and together they bounced their way through corporate internships and the Helsinki nightlife.

“Try a little,” they’d said one night when he was studying for a difficult exam. “It will help you focus, loosen you up a bit.” By the time he was 25, he was looser than he cared to remember now and steadily burning through the small college fund his parents had left him. He was also turning into an asshole. On the upside, coke gave him the confidence to approach the kinds of women he was aspiring to then.

For a while in his early-20s, he dated the heiress to a Norwegian oil fortune he had met at a banker’s birthday party and who read his rigid routines as a sign of grit and sophistication. The relationship was serious for a while but ultimately imploded when he realized that a shared love of cashmere and international prep schools did not in fact make a solid foundation for the future.

“What do you mean, you want to become a cop?” she’d said, horrified, when he told her, about a year into their relationship. It was a most undignified use of an economics degree, she’d thought, and she’d spent many hours trying to talk him out of it. But once Nurmi made it clear that he’d made up his mind, that he was not, in fact, going to become an investment broker as she’d always hoped, she and her luxury toiletries had left his apartment in less than 24 hours.

What followed was a series of flings with varying degrees of emotional investment, though the overall mean would fall in the “low” category. He never had trouble getting laid, thanks in no small parts to his looks and a carefully curated reputation as a man who knew about the finer things in life. But even the smart girls he dated in those years he ultimately found provincial and naïve and he lost interest quickly.

Of course, there was more to it than just a sense of superiority. There were also deep insecurities. Figuring out where exactly one ended and the other begun had taken him considerable effort over the years, so that even today, at 35, the answer was rarely ever clear to him. Particularly when it came to relationships. And the more he watched his peers move effortlessly through the gears of adulthood, the more he felt like they were all busy refining a language he’d never even heard of.

As exciting as it had been, the Joburg expat bubble was hardly an environment for building stable, lasting relationships. Families moved with jobs and friends would come and go, so he’d learned young to keep it light and not get too attached. His parent’s marriage, meanwhile, remained a mystery to him. One of them was usually away, and whenever they were both at home, their focus was rarely on each other. Looking back now, he suspects they were each using their noble causes as an excuse not do deal with the myriad problems that were piling up in their relationship. And the end, well, spoke for itself.

So here he was, 35 and clueless, and increasingly aware of it. Maybe he lied. Maybe his biggest fear wasn’t about dependence after all, it was about failure. The fear that he was somehow incurably crippled by inexperience, and that in the process of trying to reach for what he wanted, at this late stage in life, he was bound to break things in ways that would sabotage his own happiness, and hers.

He tried to push away the thought. He pulled her closer, so that his face was buried in her hair and he could smell her shampoo mixed with the sweat of their night together. But the thought lingered, and he fell asleep uneasily.

_________________________________________________________

RISKY

The fridge was predictably vacant, but he made due with whatever he could find. And when Emil came into the kitchen, schoolbag over one shoulder, Nurmi already had a pan of scrambled eggs going.

“You want eggs or Cereal?” he asked. “I’m afraid those are the only options.”

“Eggs are fine,” Emil said. “Thanks.” He took the plate from Nurmi and sat down next to Leo, who was already 10 fingers deep in scramble.

Karppi’s kid didn’t seem to question why he was there, but Nurmi still felt the need to offer an explanation. “I slept on the couch,” he lied.

Nurmi thought he caught a flash of side eye, the teenage kind that said, “Yes, and? Why should I care?” and he was relieved.

In the bathroom, the sound of Karppi’s hairdryer stopped.

“Hmm. Something smells good,” she said when she joined them. She walked over to Emil and kissed him on the head. “Morning, sweetheart.” When she ruffled Leo’s hair, he giggled, delighted. “More juice,” he demanded of nobody in particular.

“More juice, please,” Nurmi corrected. He was scraping the rest of the eggs onto two plates.

“I’ll get it,” Karppi said and headed for the fridge to grab a juice box. When she was sure Emil wasn’t looking, she came up behind Nurmi and squeezed his ass. “Morning,” she whispered. He smiled and handed her a plate.

Over at the table, Emil tried to make Leo eat with his fork, but the toddler took it as an invitation to dig his hands in deeper, roaring with laughter.

“What’s on at school today?” Karppi asked eating with her plate in her hand.

“Math test.”

“Did you study?”

“Uhu.”

Karppi titled her head, unconvinced.

“Seriously, Mom. It’s no big deal. I know the stuff.”

“The kid knows his stuff,” Nurmi offered helpfully, like placating him would distract from other things hanging in the air. Why did he suddenly feel 14, sneaking around behind his parents’ back? Thank god, he through, school was about to start.

“Get your stuff,” Karppi said, on cue. “We’re running late.”

Emil disappeared to grab a sweater, and she used the moment to slip her arms around Nurmi’s waist. They stood like that for a moment, smiling at each other, before the sound of Emil’s footsteps made them let go.

“You got everything?” she asked. “Ok. let’s go.” She turned and mouthed a silent “Bye” to Nurmi.

“See you later, guys,” he said.

She was already by the door when he called after her again. “Oh and Karppi?”

“Yea?”

“You’re right.”

“About what?”

“About the guy in the car.”

She smiled and closed the door behind her.

And that was it. They’d made it through the morning after, as humdrum as ever. He finished his breakfast and collected Leo’s toys from around the apartment. Then the two of them set off for home.

In the hallway, he slid the key back under the mat. Still a bit risky, he thought, but he’d have to learn to live with it.

#karppi #deadwind #karppi x nurmi #sakari nurmi

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hatchetfieldtheories · 3 years

Text

A Show Stoppin Number - or - Professor Hidgens, could you tell us what foreshadowing is?

There is a running theory that Hidgens was at least in the process of his apotheosis by the time Show Stoppin’ Number happens. Plus I have a theory that apotheosis works by Vampire Diaries rules of metamorphosis - not only does the person have to be infected by the spores, they also have to die. In that theory I mentioned I’d come back to Hidgens later - and then I didn’t. So now I am! And in order to do so, I am going to look at Show Stoppin’ Number a bit closer.

The Theory: Hidgens had become infected after touching the blue goo, it happened slowly but by the time SSN happened, the only stage of his apotheosis he had left was his death. SSN then serves as foreshadowing for the rest of Paul’s story.

Before we delve into SSN, let’s just jump back a bit to his prior scenes. He stops Emma from going with Paul to help Bill, telling her he needs her help with the goo. Which - sure, he needs the help of a botany student in determining this gloop of extraterrestrial origin. I believe it - nothing weird about that at all. While he may not be fully apotheosis-ed at this point (he has just shot Charlotte and Sam) the spores are definitely beginning their work. He is ensuring Paul is living out his hero’s role, and ensuring Emma stays safe in the mansion - afterall she is the thing the hero wants. (A concept I touch on in the TGWDLM rewatch)

He then drugs Emma and Ted, and ties them up to make them witness his musical pitch. I think two things are simultaneously happening here:

Hidgens believes he is doing this because he wants a world of musical theatre to become a reality because that’s his real love.

The apotheosis happening inside him locks on to Emma’s realisation on how to destroy them, and finds a way to stop her.

So now onto SSN.

A show-stopping number is the one song in a musical which literally stops the show for a while, and which once it ends the audience have just witnessed something remarkable and then have to remember they’re watching a full show and need to get back to the story. The two that always jump to mind for me when I hear the term are You Won’t Succeed on Broadway from Spamalot and It’s a Musical from Something Rotten, though I am sure there are plenty of less silly examples. While SSN is certainly a show-stopping number, I think there is something more to the repetition of this phrase.

---

Something to shock 'em,

To bring them a-crawlin'

A big time box office draw

There is a post - somewhere - which discusses how this song is split into two very distinctive voices. You have the Workin Boys bit, and the rest. Workin Boys is very clearly Hidgens’ own work, whereas the rest is likely to be the result of his apotheosis. And it’s that bit where we get this repetition of Show Stoppin’ Number. This is the point where the Hive are about to crack out their big, jaw dropping finale.

---

Spotlight on Mr. Ingenue

The ingenue is described as: a young woman who has little experience and is very trusting - which I think in this situation is supposed to be Paul. He trusts the idea that destroying the meteor will stop the Hive, which is ultimately what the Hive wants him to do.

---

A show stoppin' number

Is something you die for

A real catchy ear-wormy tune

It is during the Hive’s show stopping moment (the meteor) that Paul does die - after being infected and becoming part of an infectious song.

---

That seeps in and out of your pores

A ditty to make the chorus girls swoon

It'll unify humanity

In a thundering chorus

No exits from this Broadway venue

Seeps in and out of your pores isn’t subtle. This is the spores, and once you’re infected, there is no escape. Eventually all of humanity will be united in a singular voice - or thundering chorus.

---

Then we get the whole Workin Boys bit, which now that I am back in the office just feels relatable. Five O’Clock can’t come soon enough, I’m bloody shattered. Workin Boys is Hidgen’s own work and is drastically different to what he has been singing up until this point.

---

An aria to rule them all

Ok Sauron, calm down. An aria is a solo piece, which Hidgens knows. He knows the Hive is one being (Pokey) - they’re all part of a singular voice. I like the dichotomy of a chorus and an aria both being attributed to the Hive as it really drives home that they are both separate and one at the same time.

---

Hamilton move over, your new competition's in town

Yes Hidgens, I'm sure we'll like that just as much as Hamilton.

#hatchetfield theory #hatchetfield theories #starkid #team starkid #hatchetfield #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #show stopping number #I'm reusing gifs I'm up at 6 #it's recycling

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misc-headcanons · 4 years

Note

Can I get a scenario for Zoro opens up to his s/o about Kuina?

Zoro/Reader: A Single Step

It had all started when Zoro had been enjoying a nighttime bottle of sake with his s/o on the deck, laughing and looking up at the stars together. When Zoro turned over the bottle to find that it was empty, ____ had stumbled their way up to a standing position and headed to the kitchen to grab another one from the cellar below-deck. Zoro followed behind them, and the two of them slurred their words as they playfully nudged and shushed each other to not wake the rest of the crew.

"Ok...Okay, you turn on th' light," Zoro said, "And I'll open the door to the booze room."

"The cellar," ____ corrected with a titter, flicking on the light to the kitchen and then moving to swat Zoro's head. "You can store stuff in a cellar that isn't booze, you know."

"Like what?"

____ blinked and racked their fuzzy memory for an example of one of the many things one can keep in a cellar.

"You know...Stuff?"

The two of them laughed and made their way to the large wooden floor panel leading to the cold cellar underneath the kitchen. While Zoro leaned down to slide it, ____ took the opportunity to eye their boyfriend's backside with a grin while he was bent over and crouching. The panel easily moved aside, and Zoro took a step down the wooden staircase; suddenly, he felt ____ pushing up against his back as they tried to worm their way around him.

"First one down there gets to pick the sake," they declared, squirming to push past Zoro. "No more cheap shit; I'm getting the good stuff!"

Zoro tensed as they tried to maneuver on the narrow steps and groped around in the dimly-lit entrance to the cellar. Before he could snap at them to not rush down there, he saw ____ stumble on the next step and then start to fall backwards. They let out a sharp gasp that sent a cold chill down Zoro's spine; whether it was because of the sake he'd had, or from the sudden adrenaline rush as he saw ____ fall, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. They're going to fall. They're going to fall, they're going to die if they fall, just like--

Even if he wasn't sober, Zoro's reflexes as a swordsman were still lightning fast. He immediately grabbed ____ by the front of their shirt with one hand and jerked their body forward towards him, and then he immediately put his other arm around their back to keep them secure and close to him. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears, and he felt a thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. The sound of his s/o's breathing and the small puffs of air against his skin helped calm him down slightly. Still breathing. Still breathing… Zoro's chest rose and fell, and he held them a bit tighter in his arms. They're still here.

____ snorted out a laugh and rested their head on Zoro's shoulder. "Whew, you saved my ass there," they giggled, their cheeks warm and the smell of sake lingering on their breath. They rocked back and forth against Zoro on the staircase while talking in a sing-song-y voice. "I need to be more carefuuuuul--"

They cut off their drunken little ditty with a small gasp as Zoro abruptly marched up the stairs while still holding them. When they were just about to ask what the hell he was doing, or where he was going, he firmly put his hands on either side of ____'s shoulders and glared at them. Now that they were no longer in the dim, barely existent light of the basement, ____ could see his features clearly; their eyes widened a bit when they saw the intense look on his face and the angry tears in his eyes. "Never, ever do that again," Zoro demanded. His voice was no longer relaxed and breezy the way it usually was when he was drunk, but tense and thick. ____ couldn't remember the last time he was this close to tears around them. He shook them a little bit as he held them, trying to put some sense into them and make them see how dangerous that was just now. "What if I didn't catch you? You could've broken your damn neck!"

____ blinked up at Zoro, feeling a wave of shame wash over their chest. "It...Ok, sure, I won't," they said slowly, confused and taken aback by his extreme and emotional reaction. "Look, Zoro, I'm fine. Okay? Just calm down." They were hesitant for a second, and then spoke again. "Why are you acting like this over one stupid trip down the stairs? I mean, you're protective, but…" ____ looked up at them. "I probably woulda just fallen and twisted my ankle. It's like, five steps total! And--"

"That doesn't matter," Zoro snapped. "You can still die from a fall down a short set of stairs, and I would've...I would've…" He trailed off and looked away, relaxing his grip on their shoulders a bit before sighing through his nose. "Just...be more careful when you go down the stairs like that. Okay?"

____ furrowed their brows and gently cupped Zoro's face as they guided him to look at them again. "Hey," they murmured, their voice laced with concern. "Tell me what's wrong."

Zoro resisted a bit against their hand and refused to look at them. "Nothing," he dismissed. "I just want you to be more careful."

____ pulled him to look at them again, staring straight into his eyes. "Zoro," they insisted firmly. "What is it?"

Zoro was silent, clenching his jaw slightly as he stared back at them. He bit a part of his lower lip and wondered what he should say; he hadn't talked about what had happened to Kuina ever since...well, since it had happened. It was already painful to think about, so he'd always try to think of something else before he started to feel that weight on his chest that never seemed to leave him completely ever since he had gone to her funeral. Talking about it would probably be even more painful.

Still, this was ____-- not just a friend, and not just one of his nakama either. He didn't want to keep anything from someone so close to him, they deserved to know the truth about his past without him closing himself off, just for the sake of his own feelings.

He finally came back to reality and out of his own head when ____ took a step closer to put their head on his shoulder again, putting their arms around him. "I'm sorry," they said quietly, their voice a bit wobbly, just like their drunken stance as they swayed against him a bit. "I. Um, I dunno what...this…is all about exactly--" They gently pressed their hands against his back. "But whatever it is, I'm sorry."

Zoro leaned against them and wrapped his arms around them. "It's not your fault," he replied, holding them close. "It's because of…" He felt the weight on his chest slowly starting to sink further and further as he remembered Kuina. "Of something that happened a long time ago, to a friend of mine."

____ was silent as they waited for Zoro to continue, not wanting to interrupt him. Zoro slowly pulled away from them and led them to the two seats near the kitchen table. Zoro sat next to ____ and crossed his arms while he leaned forward a bit. "I learned how to be a swordsman from an old man who had his own dojo," he began. "And he had a daughter named Kuina…"

The entire time Zoro told the story of his childhood friend, ____ was dead silent and their expression remained largely unchanged as he talked. When he finally explained Kuina's untimely death from her accident, the weight on Zoro's chest had made it hard for him to breathe, let alone talk. Still, he simply clenched his fists and powered through that suffocating ache, wanting to finish what he'd started now that he'd finally decided to talk about Kuina. When he'd finished explaining, he could feel the sting of his palms from where his nails had dug in and left imprints on his skin.

____ was quiet for a long time after he'd finished speaking, and when they seemed to have gotten their thoughts together, they simply scooted their chair closer to Zoro so they could rest their hand against his and squeeze it gently. "I'm...I'm so sorry," they said finally, their voice cracking a bit. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have done that."

Zoro shrugged. "There wasn't any way for you to know," he replied, his voice a bit hollow and flat. "Not unless I had decided to tell you. But I didn't want to talk about it--about her." His chest burned with shame, and he looked down at the table between them. "If I wasn't so afraid of talking about it until now, this wouldn't have happened. It's my fault, in the end."

"No, 's not your fault," ____ insisted, slurring their words a bit. They smiled a bit. "Even if I didn't know about her, it was still a jackass move for me to play around on the stairs like that while I'm drunk."

Zoro's lips had the faintest hint of a smile as he glanced back up at them. "You are pretty stupid when you're drunk," he replied. "I should've just kept that whole bottle to myself, since you're such a lightweight on top of that."

____ rolled their eyes and playfully punched Zoro's shoulder. "We all have our flaws, you know," they replied with a grin. "I may be a dumbass when I'm drunk, which is pretty often when you've got my lack of tolerance. And you're a clueless dummy who couldn't navigate his way out of a wet paper bag, even when you're stone-cold sober."

Zoro gently hit them back as they laughed a little bit, and then there was a beat of awkward silence. After a moment, ____ took Zoro's cheek in their hand again and gently squeezed it. "Hey...Is it weird if I thank you?"

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "For...what?"

____ moved closer and warmly kissed the other side of Zoro's face. "For telling me that, even when it probably hurts like hell to talk about," they replied plainly. "And for carin’ about me so much that you'd get this upset when I almost hurt myself for such a dumb reason. And for just bein’ with me, I guess." They smiled and kissed Zoro's cheek again, enjoying the lingering scent or sake on both of their lips as their mouth landed a bit closer to his this time. “Now...if I go extra slow down to the cellar, can I please be the one to pick out a bottle of sake?”

“You can pick it, but I’m gonna make sure you get down there properly,” Zoro said. He rose up from his chair and hoisted ____ over his shoulder before they could react. They let out a surprised laugh as Zoro walked to the cellar entrance and carefully escorted them down the stairs with the grace and dignity of a knight--a drunk knight, carrying an equally drunk and giggly sack of potatoes over his shoulder.

#zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece #one piece scenario #one piece scenarios #mine #Anonymous

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dykehaus · 4 years

Text

Chromatica first listen reactions

Chromatica 1 - Orchestral opening, very cinematic like she threw a Hans Zimmer wig in the ring here for apparently no reason other than to maybe suggest a video game/scifi movie opening? I’m getting opening credits to a Square Enix game circa 2005 so. I’m good with it.

Alice - MY NAME. ISN’T ALICE. Straight into the dance beats… yes god. Verses may be forgettable and the lyrics/conceit of the song isn’t that interesting but I’m really loving the chorus sound and the modulated voice in the bridge - Judas teas!! Other than the bridge, kinda filler? Remains to be seen on second listen.

Stupid Love - I didn’t love this when it leaked or was officially released. I almost let the dumb video sour the potential of it. Is it the greatest song here? No it’s just as dumb as its video. But it’s actually more enjoyable when you just accept that it’s dumb and don’t try to fight against it. It’s got some crisp BTW B-side sounding production and corniness to it and we can get behind that! After school special pop. Not sorry, I’ll listen to Stupid Love.

Rain on Me - Has gay sex in public while this plays. Someone meanwhile smokes a cigarette in a Brooklyn warehouse and sips a matcha cocktail. Next.

Free Woman - KNOCK OUT in my opinion. Like an upbeat So Happy I Could Die I would argue… Also might be one of the lezzier items on offer here. Which is among my priorities in listening to any Lady Gaga output. You really get the texture of her vocals here and Gaga’s voice is one of her real selling points. There are no girls who make this kind of music that have her intonation. Periodt. I’m a Free Wuhman!

Fun Tonight - Is this the ballad? It’s not a ballad. It’s a dance song. But it has Gypsy from ARTPOP vibes. The Gaga equivalent of a torch song. This is the song you put on when you’re having a little early 00s white girl in a romcom sad montage moment and there’s certainly a time and place for that! This is definitely about Christian and for that reason I wish it were angrier lmao. (Fuck him)

Chromatica II - More moody strings! I definitely get more of a video game feel from this than cinematic necessarily. Feels like an album version of a cut scene.

911 - Heavy bass! Chanting robot voice! Would’ve given myself a wettie through the car speakers with this if I were still driving on the regular. This vocal is of kin with Madonna’s on Madame X. The lyrics here are GARBAGE but it might get the Heavy Metal Lover treatment where I’ll eventually love every bit of it.

Plastic Doll - This is Barbie Girl but played straight. Right now I don’t love that but given enough to drink I will think it’s transcendent art. She rhymed ‘saga’ and ‘gaga’! Someone will inevitably perform a genderqueer drag act to this.

Sour Candy - I don’t pretend to know actually anything about Kpop. Their presence here gives me unrelenting early 00s vibes. Is that a big reference point for Kpop groups? I have no idea. I think this one might have real commercial value considering the crossover event of it all. The production here is really just. fine. Capable. But I LOVE the Gaga vocal!! My favorite other than Free Woman thus far.

Enigma - She put some effort into the lyrics here! Thanks G! Killer, signature soaring Gaga chorus. The enigma thing is technically self promotion for her never-ending Vegas residency (which costs about a billion to attend). This has 70s disco sparkle to it and it’s really enjoyable.

Replay - (Shawty’s like a replay?). When the electro-hook kicks in here, I just want to get up and dance. This whole section of the album actually after Chromatica II (should we call it Act 2?) feels like it’s trying to ramp the energy back up after a dip. “Your monsters torture me!” Me looking up at my Fame Monster merchandise.

Chromatica III - OK like the cut scene before the final boss! My favorite of the three orchestral songs. Makes sense considering what’s to come in Sine From Above.

Sine From Above - FUCK. For me, the best song on the album on first listen. This has the most “narrative” and “build” as I would say in a reader’s report at work. Elton John actually brings even more gravitas to this. Let’s spell it out kids: W-I-G! Before there was love there was silence!!!

1000 Doves - It’s depressing me a bit how plaintive she is on this album. But somehow this song is still uptempo? Reminds me of the original version of Dope. But like, listenable. Much as we valorize ARTPOP was oddly prescient for its release year, there were legit duds on that album. Dope was one of them.

Babylon - You can serve it to me ancient city style! She said lemme ham it up real quick to finish this ditty off. The Lady Gaga equivalent of Liza Minnelli turns off a lamp. Gossip! Babble on! This is what I’ll put on to get dressed and, nostalgically, it gives me a little of Disco Heaven closing The Fame. This might start up shit with Madonna again like the good old days :)

OVERALL THOUGHTS: This is the most homogenous album she’s released since The Fame. It’s also one of the snappiest, smoothest listens as an album. Sometimes Gaga albums are better taken in bites... One of the upsides: that homogeneity makes it automatically more cohesive than say, Born This Way or even Joanne (cowboy crap aside). Do the complaints that she’s playing it safe hold water? Absolutely and that’s just as I expected. But this is the album she frankly needed to make at this stage. Just as Madonna needed to make Ray of Light when she did. After such massive and unexpected success basically under the guise of ANOTHER character (this one a basic girl in the Ally/SiB character), she needed to ease back into the Gaga machine.

BEST SONGS: Sine From Above, Free Woman, Enigma, Babylon

Anyway, I’m putting Sine From Above on repeat now!!

EDIT AFTER 24 HOURS: best songs are enigma, 911, babylon, and rain on me. and i stick by really enjoying sine from above in all its 2012 edm hangover in ibiza-ness. alice is really a grower on several listens. fun tonight, 1000 doves, and stupid love round out the bottom for sure.

#lady gaga #gaga #chromatica

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 4 years

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this DLC has me FUCKED UP and i keep screaming

spoilers for Bounty of Blood under the cut, keep reading at ur own peril. Also some Guardian Takedown spoilers for anyone who hasn’t beat it yet

tl;dr: a comparison between something taken from BL2 and a thing taken from Bounty of Blood. more spoilery tl;dr below the cut.

also the siren thing is not spoilers so i’ll share it here for anyone curious, it’s just this: siren tattoos are blue but when lily absorbs eridium in 2, they turn pinkish/purple. just like how vaults do from bl1 to bl2. they’re white/blue in bl1, then purple-pink in bl2 (and tps), y’know, after Eridium begins erupting from the ground. just a neat little detail i noticed that im not entirely sure was intentional but im gonna believe it is.

tl;dr: Gythian Blood = Core and the Ruiner is of Eridian Origin even tho everyone in the DLC likes to say it was created with Jakobs’ bioengineering. disclaimer: idk if I’ve found every hidden ECHO so I may be missing a few things but I have done every side quest and took ample screenshots of all important dialogue in the DLC : )

“man i just sat here for like 15 minutes staring at my keyboard mentally comparing core and eridium like the dumb bitch i am.

it's not like we can do an actual comparison because we have no idea what the natural fauna of gehenna was like before jakobs came and mutated everything with core unlike pandora where we know what skags and rakk and shit were like BEFORE the eridium crust erupted.

altho!!! there's a neat comparison between joey ultraviolet and rose. like obviously he wasn't getting tattoos and was just doing lines of crushed up eridium but the point stands they both have glowy eyes and unique powers so i don't necessarily think this means rose is a siren just because she has magic powers especially when we know she got the whistling passed down to her from her grandmother.

especially because we've never seen a siren interact with core before. altho that leaves the question we have seen core tattoos now what are eridium tattoos like? actually rose's tattoos were on her right arm obviously she isn't a siren as we know them right now (I saw a post on reddit where people thought rose was a siren)

of course that brings up the point perhaps siren tattoos ARE eridium tattoos. but then we hear the general's log about how the devil riders were tattooing a man with core and blood so obviously they're not ‘naturally’ occurring unlike siren tattoos. so odds are they're probably not equivalents but something interesting i thought of while thinking about this is how well siren tattoos compare to the Vaults from borderlands 1 and borderlands 2″

anyway. this is all ive been thinking about. yes yes i know guardian takedown post but! >:( im still salty even tho this update has been lovely (outside of Blane not getting his correct damage scaling ‘till today......). so i’ll do that at my own damn pace. now let me elaborate so i can sleep at night lmao

Eridium

refinement produces slag, which weakens people and can mutate things

has mutating properties, mostly with imbuing elements into shit- possibly causes insanity

seems to be connected to another dimension, likely the one the Eridians are from

Core

has a secondary form of Infused Core

has mutating properties, mostly regarding a thing’s body and mind

apparently radioactive

there are some things i wanna note

1) People throughout the DLC say the Ruiner was created by the Jakobs corp (the company) thru bio-engineering but I’m 99% sure that’s not true. The paperwork seems to me like they found the egg somewhere on Gehenna and decided to roll and experiment with it like all corporations do when they find weird alien shit. so maybe they experimented with whatever was inside the egg, but I don’t think they actually created it entirely

“Excavated from [REDACTED] ... Local legends speaks of a [REDACTED]. This theory is not endorsed by our research personnel.

2) The Ruiner’s design reminds me a lot of the Warrior.

3) Core immediately reminded me of Gythian Blood from Guns Love and Tentacles and I don’t think that’s coincidence to have 2 back-to-back DLCs where the big bad is focused on green death juice. I think Gythian Blood and Core are of the same stuffs.

4) Therefore, I think the Ruiner is (mostly) of Eridian origin (if you haven’t already guessed).

This gives us an amazing look into how the Eridians actually create their beasts!!! And I’m so happy they showed us this.

(side note, Interitus Regina (the long name for Ruiner) literally means Destruction Queen and I think that’s beautiful <3)

i mean the idea that they plunge them from orbit to create an explosion similar to a nuke is fucking horrifying (but holy shit I love it so much ahhh it’s so cool!!!!)

the one side line from Oletta about how the company couldn’t control the Ruiner deffo makes me double down on this theory. I’m not entirely sure how Rose’s grandma knew about the whistling (I don’t think I’ve found every echo log in that area YET), but I would bet it was part of the testing given how many fuckin’ tape players they have throughout the facility. The Warrior was controlled by verbal commands via Jack, so it’s possible that the Ruiner was intended to be controlled similarly, but Jakobs intervention (or something like the way Rose hatched it) fucked it up.

now we know the Warrior was created to protect the Vault of the Destroyer (hmm.) so what the heck was the Ruiner created for? Ruiner is a name given to it by Jakobs/the people of Gehenna so we can’t really assume, but then again the monster names are pretty apt in this series even tho they probably technically shouldn’t be.

it was only an egg, so maybe it was another test of Core? A Vault Monster incubating until it was ready to protecc and attacc but was never hatched because the Eridians ‘sacrificed’ themselves before it could? (I’m still not convinced the Eridians are the good guys. Listen. LISTEN. The guardian takedown is something to think about, BUT it doesn’t disprove that theory and I’ll stand by it because I 100% trust the Overseer more than bitchpants mcgee over here who thinks he’s soooo special for no reason fuck you and your dumb ‘I did what the Watcher could not’ bull you haven’t done shit.) ok sorry im done he just angers me. stupid guardian man. your whip is stupid and you should feel bad. oh also I totally called us actually being Guardians thru Guardian Rank before the game came out aha yeah.

I definitely think Gythian was a test/use of Core from the Eridians. We see in Bounty of Blood that core seems to mutate more the physical (and occasionally mental) parts of people, like with the crew challenges u do for Juno with all the weird hybrid people and whatnot. Gythian had the whole ‘the heart still beats’ thing going on (which is definitely a physical mutation if i’ve ever seen one), plus the whole, you know, mind control and shit. Which is p similar to what the menta gnats can do when charged with Infused Core. And keep in mind in BLaT we see DAHL notes on what happens to test subjects when injected with Gythian Blood. They mutated physically and went insane.

What im saying is Sirens and Eridium and Elements are connected, so what does Core equal? body/mind sure but are there unique creatures for core (yes holy shit I’m not talking about h2o au for once and FINALLY they gave us a canon name for the green stuff!!!). If not, I’d love to see a Siren interact with Core to see what it does to them. seriously why hasn’t tannis interrupted us yet. horrible excuse for a science lover (kidding kidding, I love her). I’d also really love a fuller rundown on what the hell Rose’s powers were. Because the whistling thing seemed to just be her grandma’s thingie passed down to her from her mom

but the core stuff

her gun seems to be infused with it. So did her sword thing. I didn’t really get a good look at it i was too busy trying to see thru my blurry tears of LOVE for this DLC.

Strangely while her tattoos are (mostly) green I actually don’t know if they’re core infused bc look at this

n look back at hers. hers aren’t very lime.

anyway

her eyes

I’d love to know if the core gives her immediate future sight or just increased perception or reaction times. there’s a huge difference but she seemed to be able to shoot the gun outta the sheriff’s hand near immediately and it seems kinda implied its because of the core (or at least because her eyes are glowing green)

there’s a possibility she has some unique core powers/possibly implants because of her relations to the project in the first place, or as leader of the devil riders after looting the facility. it’s really hard to say without more info and like i said im not sure if i missed an ECHO or two or not regarding her backstory :(

Her hair is also green which I just noticed. Maybe she has core powers bc her grandmother got suuuuuuuuper irradiated/influenced working on project horizons and it passed down thru her n Rose’s mom, to Rose. Tannis does have a line about Sirens having unique hair colors and, if Sirens are linked to Eridium, perhaps those linked to Core also have unique hair color. Could also explain why only Rose seems to have those whistling powers. That said we don’t really see anyone else trying that whistling thing out afaik and idk if it was, like, a special ability or a certain tone/ditty or w h a t.

i know being vague with everything gives them more creative freedom to create amazing characters and scenarios, but dammit I want A N S W E R S.

All THAT said man I’m so glad magic is real in the borderlands universe. oh, sorry, “magic”. It’s magic. Science it, tannis, I dare you. either way, I win. Either it’s magic and H2O AU is canon, or it’s science and I finally get my goddamn answers. Hey gearbox can you make a book just explaining all the science and eridian stuff. please. I’d love you forever. please. pleaheheheheaaasseee it’s all i’ve ever wanted.

oh also can i just say, suuuper disappointed we didn’t learn anything about anshin. Really wish non-fan favorite corporations would get the spotlight/lore for once. Like, I like Jakobs as much as the next guy, and I get WHY they did it (can’t have a corporation looking too good!!!) but they now have 3 DLCs (Jakobs Cove, GLaT, and Bounty of Blood) and also a hefty chunk of the main game. Like... we all know Jakobs fuckin sucks, look at what they did on Pandora. I really just want info on a medical corporation 😭 I have to do everything my damn s e l f. but SERIOUSLY IMAGINE the possibilities that could come from a medical corp getting its hands on eridian tech. like, yeah obviously the weapons corps are gonna use it for weaponry and stuff BUT WOULDN’T THE MEDICAL CORPS MUTATING PEOPLE MAKE MORE SENSE??? ldfhgldfshg I have to do everything my damn self...

anyway all that aside, this is definitely by favorite borderlands dlc by a LONG shot. Nothing comes close. Ahhh the lore, the nuclear aspect, the a e s t h e t i c (seriously, have I mentioned how much I adore Trigun???), the art, the music, the cryoslinger, the fact I can bust out going beeEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAans like Ray Chase at any time and it will MAKE SENSE. I love all of it.

oh, also, Rose is totally not dead. C’mon, they couldn’t find her body. She pulled a Lilith. “Are you sure she didn’t just suffer a wound that LOOKS fatal, only for her to come back in a blockbuster sequel...?” is a line from mr Jones himself (the movie guy)

I just hope when she comes back she gets to meet Captain Scarlett. I’d love to watch their interactions plus pirates and or ninjas. That’s 2 DLC villains now that have vanished without a trace. And I like Captain Scarlett way more than Rose (seriously I spent the entire beginning of the DLC complaining about how her voice bothered me- I was so happy she was a villain, I was hoping that was the case).

oh yeah, reminder, the people of vestige were living next to highly radioactive egg for likely years. i feel really bad for them :(

also!!!

this made me smile

#im tired #good night #bl3 #borderlands #borderlands spoilers #spoilers #bl3 spoilers #borderlands 3 spoilers #bounty of blood #bounty of blood spoilers #dlc3 #dlc3 spoilers #dlc 3 #dlc 3 spoilers #i don't want to spoil anybody please lemme know if there's any tags i missed!!!!

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a-singing-carebear · 4 years

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Thank You Critical Role - My D&D story

“The adventure begins, they were always beside you. Your nerdy best friends and the DM to guide you”. Critical role, what more can I say?

I started playing dungeons and dragons when I was around 4\5th grade, playing with a group as an afternoon group\class. 4E, and I don't remember much besides my halfling ranger and a lot of glances and readthrough of my still existing Player's Handbook. (Well the first half of the book, the miniatures section didn’t really speak to me) Finding out my father was a DM when he was younger, and I even went to some events. I can't at all recall why I stopped, but the happiness and creativity wonder I felt still lingered in my mind.

I had the love for fantasy, I had things like LOTR, “hey! it’s just like D&D”, and a lot of creativity and storytelling crafting.

After that, I kinda moved on I guess, felt lonely, and like geekness and role-playing was a bad and childish thing (though it made me feel so spectacular). The closest I got was some lively Avatar OC with some new friends.

Fast forward to 2015, The episode “Dungeons, Dungeons & More Dungeons” from gravity falls. All those feelings rose again and I remembered how much I loved playing.

(also enjoy role-playing and with LARP being mentioned there too, when I went to some Cons I had a blast with the foam swords there).

I took out the 4e Player's Handbook, made with my brother (who got in and out of d&d by that time) a carved foam platform and a cubes map - thus started a made-up game by the name of "D&F" (Dungeons & Fandoms), using his found old dices and it's a 1 on 1 encounter magic arena with no distinct roles. What started as "let's make Ability Scores to characters from shows" became a random "I cast a tree of pancakes on you! -no, I burned it with fire-bending you’re dead". A game that also slowly died as we grew up and apart (“I mean, they used to be best friends, but then they got all stupid. Can you promise me you won't get stupid?”)

(FOUND IT!!!) A mild discovery of the ingenious song “Never Split The Party”, an actual d&d song I discovered after watching Semblance of Sanity and figuring out that their ditty “don’t you know you never split the party” is an actual song their singing.

youtube

[This video is just a d&d podcast they had, but kinda sums up everything I feel about why I enjoy D&D!]

Then another tiny spark 3 years later when the Voltron episode “Monsters & Mana” came out (BTW, a great d&d parody episode). Which mostly came to an end after a glance in the book and dices and helping a friend with ideas to craft his own RPG game.

We arrive at the date when everything changed (well, almost), December 7th, 2018. The day I discovered the “Mighty Nein Animated Intro - Your Turn To Roll” and my life were never the same.

youtube

Stumbled upon it by complete accident. I was at a loss for words, I heard the name “Critical Role” thrown about many times on tumbler’s trending list and saw pictures and art of mostly Jester. I didn't even know what is it - a tv show? a game? well, it looks like D&D. The song was incredible and brought me back, I started writing a full-fleshed out character - a human ranger taught by an elf, but the idea was quickly shifted to another fantasy story by me (it’s heard sticking to it when you know it’s just backstory and character info and you will not play and you have no one). But I continue watching this video on repeat (haha not even knowing what it actually is), scouting tumbler for info and watching some random animatics, learning it's probably a podcast d&d\rpg or something. It could have been amazing as a tv show (XD)… and then another video got released, same incredible essence of d&d song but different animation, and different characters That was my first introduction to Vox Machina.

youtube

I had to check this out. Tried to get into the fandom but got lost, even though the interest was there. Stepping upon the awesome cosplay OP and even found out about a hamilton album parody - and my musical loving self was ecstatic.

youtube

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIDuJAvTTRc&list=PL39vwIwCtLi3l4J6IMV6rS2HaLCujNzRT - Vox Machina: An Exandrian Musical)

Found the full podcast list of champion 1 and started this May. But it was hard following just by voice, and I wanted to see what was happening, every episode was 3-4 hours long, with me in my military base it was impossible. (also I thought to myself “it looks cool, but what so investing and amazing about watching some people play D&D - boy I was wrong).

Then my unexpected savior arrived, miss Corona the pandemic.

I suddenly had a lot of time on my hands and the Critical Role vids got suggested again on YouTube, yes indeed, I discovered there are actually filmed episodes. Towards the end of May, I started the journey and the flame reignited. I started talking to a good friend of mine about his interest in d&d and we started crafting characters - I resurrected my charter into a half-elven ranger with a full backstory. Down the road, I asked another two friends of mine about their interest in d&d (because maybe I can join together an actual party), one of them said, and I’m quoting “no I don’t have experience playing…but I swear I wanted to talk to you about D&D”. Unfortunately, the two friends groups didn’t mix but we made an improved first session with me as the fucking DM, simply magical. Later that week I started a 1on1 campaign with the other friend, with him as the DM and a marvelous start of an adventure (and helping him learn the rules as an ADM, with the past faded expirations I had).

All while fangirly, hyperfixation way continuing with the journey of Vox Machina, it’s amazing because as opposed to other shows I can also completely see the fandom growing along with the show and cast (i just hope I can catch up to the Mighty Nein before the inevitable 3rd campaign, 198 episodes to go - happy 100th ep!). It’s also difficult to get into the Critters fandom right now because most of the community is focused and recognized by Mighty Nein. Also burning up creativity slots and making more various characters then I could ever use - I’m enjoying myself so muchhh. Diving headfirst into this beautiful crazy of the mess that is D&D.

Nothing’s never too late and it’s ok if you have hiatus. It doesn’t make you any less worthy and I don’t need to feel bad about this journey of that a bunch of nerdy-ass voice actors sit around and play Dungeons & Dragons got me back to loving, playing and caring about the world of d&d, it’s part of the intent. As a fantasy lover (spells, costumes, items, structures, creatures, you name it), aspiring creative writer and an untalented lover of acting theatrical and role-playing, along with the incredible mechanism of RPG and the vast community, the amazing time with friends, its the game for me, it always had been. So thank you Critical Role for igniting that flame once again - even if I will lose it again I will always have you guys. “Can you answer the call? Dig in deep in your soul. As the legend unfolds, now it's your turn to roll!”

(sorry for the lengthy length, it was meant to be much shorter)

#critical role #vox machina #the mighty nein #geek and sundry #tabletop rpg #d&d #dungens and dragons #friends #dnd e4 #dnd e5 #ranger #longasspost #COVID19 #quarentinelife #critters

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ascottywrites · 5 years

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The Steter List --Tails

After I realized that the last post was getting pretty long (what does that say about me?) I decided to split it up into two parts Sterek and Steter, so that it’s easier to deal with and not as possibly overwhelming...here’s that Steter half!

--Steter a.k.a Stiles Stilinski/ Peter Hale--

*a.k.a. The ship that makes me rethink life

Something Powerful Between Your Thighs by Bunnywest (Complete: 4/4| 18,595) --Steter/ --Biker!Peter

Someone’s actually replied.Fuck.

I’ll give you what you need, pretty boy. And you can call me Sir.

The hairs on the back of Stiles’s neck prickle at that, and his dick throbs. He clicks on the profile and the picture that pops up is UN-FUCKING-FAIR. Jesus Christ on a bicycle, nobody should look like that. The man’s staring into the camera, a smile that’s almost a sneer on his face. And what a face it is. Intense blue eyes, cheekbones like cut glass, and a strong jawline covered in the perfect amount of stubble. His neck, what Stiles can see of it, is thickly muscled, and Stiles can see the beginnings of a tattoo that travels down. There’s the tiniest scattering of grey at his temples, and Stiles breathes out, “Oh yes, Sir,” as he drinks in the details on the profile.

Sacrificial Lamb by Bunnywest (Complete: 21/21| 54,900) --Steter

The Alpha has a scruffy beard, unkempt hair and dazzling blue eyes. The scar on his face is raised, running down his cheek like a twisting, gnarled rope. Stiles knows that it came from the blade of Kate Argent herself, and that the Alpha got it fighting in the battle where Kate killed his lover, cutting his head clean from his neck, if the stories are to be believed.

The Alpha lets Stiles look his fill, before indicating that Stiles should take the other couch, and Stiles does so, his father’s words echoing in his ears. He can do this, can be pleasant and amenable. The lives of his people may depend on it. The Alpha spends long moments surveying him, before saying, “I like you, Stiles.”

You don’t know me, Stiles wants to blurt out, but he bites his tongue.

The Wild Card by Bunnywest for Rainy182 (Complete: 1/1| 10,799) --Steter

It's courting season, and for Omega Stiles, that means he has a month to choose who he's going to spend his heat with. He didn't think he'd have many suitors to choose from, but apparently he was wrong. It's a good thing he has Derek's uncle Peter to guide him.

Ink Blossoms by Triangulum (Complete: 1/1| 24,501) --Steter/ Tattooed!Peter

"So, you're going to ruin your niece's baby shower with flowers in the wrong color?" the florist, Stiles, asks when they reach the counter. He pulls out a binder and starts flipping through it.

"Not ruin. Mildly inconvenience," Peter says.

"Right, messing with a hormonal pregnant woman seems like a great plan."

"To be fair, her fiance and the father of her baby is my ex-boyfriend," Peter says. "And we weren't broken up when they started 'dating'."

Stiles looks up at him in surprise. "And you're still getting her flowers?" he asks.

"It's under duress, I assure you," Peter says. He absolutely wouldn't be here if his alpha hadn't ordered it.

"Well, shit, yeah, let's get you some purple revenge flowers," Stiles says.

smoke & bone (mistletoe & fang) by rightsidethru (Complete: 1/1| 3,075) --Steter

Deaton once told Stiles to be that spark. He never fully explained what that meant, however. (It was intentional.)

Lie to me (I like them pretty and white) by orphan_account (Complete: 8/8| 12,577) --Steter

Fact number one: Only true mates can have kids together.Fact number two: Peter had a mate, who was pregnant with twins when he died in the fire.

When Stiles tells him he’s pregnant, he... well, it doesn't really go according to plan.

Stiles wakes up in the hospital. He’s alone, a packed overnight bag beside him brought by his dad probably... and he doesn’t really have a reason to stay, so he grabs it and runs.

/look at end notes for TWs/

*I still think this one is a cute little ditty.

Til Death by Bunnywest (Complete: 10/10| 50,770) --Steter

"How long do we have to find him someone?” Stiles asks.

“Two weeks,” says Derek, eyebrows pulling down even further. The fierceness of his expression tells Stiles just how concerned he is.

“He marries, or he goes to the camps. And you know what your father told us,” Scott reminds her.

The camps……aren’t camps.

Peter either finds a wife, or he dies.

*I'm not really a fan of female!Stiles, no particular reason, just not my cuppa. But this one I enjoyed all the way to the end! Intro to Ethics by thegirlnamedcove (Complete: 8/8| 18,061) --Steter

"The universe isn’t wrong about this stuff, the soulmate spell is ironclad, and that means you know this is going to work out. That’s something people don’t get with friends, or dating around.”

“Sure, people say that,” Stiles gestured at the mark where his arm was now stretched out along the back of the couch, “but we don’t actually have any way of knowing. None of us signed up for this. The Ancestors just decided to bestow it upon us and we all have to live with it. Maybe it’s not magic compatibility after all, maybe people just learn to live with one another because everyone around them is telling them to.”

In Sickness and in Fire by wynnebat for Green (Complete: 1/1| 7,320) --Steter

After a fight with an alpha from a rival pack, Stiles begins to turn. It doesn't go as expected.

*Despite the villan-esque portrayal and the Satan in a V-neck tag, there is a large part of me that believes that if Resurrected!Peter got the opportunity he would be that guy you want to have your back. Puppies and Programming by Bunnywest (Complete: 12/12| 17,012) --Steter

Stiles is rich, successful, and lonely.

Buying a Halebot Personal Support Bot seems like a great idea. A human-like robot that can read and respond to his desires and is perfectly sexually compatible, and doubles as a bodyguard? Sign him the fuck up. And it's perfect, at first. But then the P3Tr develops a glitch. Feelings.

Gentleman 'verse by Bunnywest (on-going series) --Steter

Stiles is an omega who just wants to be courted properly, and needs someone to help him though his upcoming heat.

Peter's the alpha who thinks he'd quite like to help out.

Things don't quite go as planned, but they still work out exactly as they should.

*Is it obvious that I have a special appreciation for Bunnywest?... Like is it too noticeable? Ha!

Worn Out Shoes by moonstalker24 (Complete: 28/28| 96,763) --Steter

When the dead rise, and the world comes to an end, the McCall Pack must learn to live in this new world, or die in the attempt. This is the story of the end, and of the year that follows.

*I found this origionally for the Accidental Baby Aquisition tag. ...I love that tag.

Falling In, Not Through by Julibean19 for Mysenia (Complete: 10/10| 49,898) --Steter

“You need to help me,” Stiles says eventually. He’s still in too much pain to move off the floor, but he’s picked up a stray feather, twirling it between two fingers with a look of pure terror on his face. Peter nods immediately, eager and willing to be involved in whatever this is.

Peter’s eyes flick between the feather spinning between Stiles’ fingers and the harsh angle of the bend of his wings above his shoulders. He doesn’t look like any picture of an angel Peter has ever seen. There should be an elegant swooping curve there, neat little rows of white or gold or silver, pointed tips flung far out from Stiles’ body and a halo above his head. If Stiles is an angel, the myths are all wrong.

In which Stiles finds that he has wings and Peter finds that a pack doesn't always need to be made up of wolves.

Wild Creatures by neglectedtuesday (Complete: 1/1| 13,000) --Steter

The treaty is signed while Stiles is being laced into his wedding corset. Ink splatters parchment as a maid pulls the ribbons, tighter and tighter. Stiles’ breath and future are taken away, all to save a village. He is a sacrifice more than a bride. The maid assists in fixing a choker around Stiles throat. Her hands are cold despite the roaring fire in the grate. The choker is a string of blood red rubies, they reflect the firelight with a wet shine like an open wound.

I'm Only Heard During the Silence Between My Screams by Irukashi_Narukib (wip: 39/?| 47,481) --Steter

Stiles thinks no one is listening, so he just... stops talking. It's just like that asshole Peter to refuse to take the hint.

Rewriting the future by Synesthetic (Complete: 28/28| 106,631) --Steter

Two days before their planned bonding, alpha Derek Hale runs away with his secret beta girlfriend, leaving Stiles heartbroken. With the demands of his omega physiology forcing him to bond with someone before his first heat, Derek's uncle Peter steps in and offers a solution.

A Darkness Follows by havok2cat (Complete: 9/9| 41,994) --Steter

Stiles serves his community service at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. He's assigned to a mysterious patient and finds himself quickly becoming obsessed.

Reluctant Allies With Benefits by veterization (Complete: 8/8| 93,217) --Steter

Peter suggests he and Stiles start having no strings attached sex. It's that simple. No, really, it totally is. Stiles will make sure of it.

as you are by veterization (Complete: 1/1| 34,093) --Steter

Stiles runs straight into a tree and suddenly, things are... different. Namely, he's in a world where Peter Hale is his boyfriend.

Took the Words Right Out of my Mouth (Must've Been When You Where Kissing Me) by stellewrites (Complete: 1/1| 6,008) --Steter

"Maybe he’s genuinely flirting, but he’s just pretty bad at it. Like, pulling your pigtails kind of thing?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Look, if you’re not going to help, I’m going to hang up, ok?”

“You asked for my opinion!” Scott laughed.

“Yeah, yeah…” AKA, Stiles works at a diner and has a love/hate relationship with the flirty Alpha that comes in almost daily with his pack.

Winding Roads to Flowering Fields by Tahlruil (ongoing series) --Steter

#steter #stiles stilinski #omega!stiles #regency #fae #zombie apocolypse au #teenwolf #teen wolf #fanfiction #ao3fic #peter hale #supernatural a/b/o #a/b/o #alpha!peter hale #ficrec #10/10 would reccomend #recommendations

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gworlinterrupted · 4 years

Text

Dreamboy Episode 7: The Rally

Hi I’m back with another Dreamboy transcript, this is a great episode! Sorry for any mistakes I might have made. Also: if you’re looking to hire a transcriptionist for your podcast or anything else please feel free to shoot me a message, I’m always looking for work!

LITTLE KIDS [sung]

She won’t be able to run in the grass

She won’t be able to lay in the sun

She won’t say hi to the people who pass

She won’t see hi to anyone

She won’t be able to love or dream or anything else that we said

Cause zebras can’t do anything after they are dead

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA

Thank you! Thank you! Keep it going for Ms. Hernandez’s second-grade class from Pepper Heights Elementary, with the shockingly accurate little ditty that they wrote! Wow! Thank you, kiddies. Now don’t let your energies flag, kids. Everyone, I know it’s getting late, I know we’re tired and scared and wondering whether this is all gonna lead up to anything useful, but it is. We’re gonna stay here and we’re gonna.. we’re gonna keep our feet planted on the ground until our demands are met. I, Diana Greasefire, am determined to have our voices heard. I will stay here with my zebra striped sleeping bag and my zebra striped mask, and I will sleep here until I get answers. Alright come on how’re we, how’re we doing out there?

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA Good?

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA Oh, I can’t hear you.

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING LOUDER]

DIANA Yeah? What do we say?

CROWD

SAVE ZOE!

DIANA What do we say?

CROWD SAVE ZOE!

DIANA WHAT DO WE SAY?

CROWD

SAVE ZOE!

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA That’s right. Now, we have a long night of rallying ahead so have some coffee. It’s free over at that table, donated by the lovely folks down at Settler’s Coffee.

[SMALL GROUP CHEERS]

DIANA

I tell you this little sexy zebra print number has served me well the last few weeks down at The Hussy, but if I’m honest, now that I'm outside in this cooler October night air, I just wish there were a little bit more of it. But then again, how else am I gonna get Mr. Kritch to come out and talk to us?

[CROWD BOOS]

DIANA We know you’re in there, Kritchy! We know you ain’t leaving anytime soon, cause your car is currently surrounded by morbid second-graders.

DIANA [to child]

Go on sweetie, yeah you can stand on the car, jump up and down.

DIANA [to crowd]

Okay. so, I'm gonna bring up my co-host, you may know her from other animal activism activities. She is currently working to educate uhhh people about uhh, hang on I have to read this part. “The effect of deforestation on the delicate symbiotic evolutionary relationship between the Madagascar Honey Orchid and the Madagascar Honey Wasp, its only known pollinator.” Well, that’s a mouthful. Anyway, please welcome to the stage Carol Buxtrom!

[CROWD CHEERS AND CLAPS]

CAROL

Thanks, Diana. Uh, you look really good. [clears throat] Whoa, okay. All of you out there you all are really rad to show up for a cause like this. When I think about this issue, I just get so worked up and angry, and I didn't trust myself to not get all emotional up here, so I wrote it down. So I’m just gonna read this and try to, you know, stay calm and Carol on. Okay, here goes. [clears throat] Last summer on August 29th, just after one A.M., a scared and defenseless wild animal had its space violated by an intruder, and in a split second reaction of fear, defended itself to the best of its ability. The intruder was a boy named Ian Harris, and he was killed. Our hearts go out to his family, but that wild animal is a zebra named Zoe that has spent nearly sixteen years interacting with the publics here at Pepper Heights with no incidents. Tomorrow morning, Judge Elizabeth Gardner [sobs] is set to. Sorry. [sobs]

[CROWD CHEERS]

CAROL

Is set to announce her decision about the euthanization of Zoe the zebra. She could very well decide to end Zoe’s life based on incidents that were not at all her fault, but we still have tonight to let her know how Pepper Heights really feels, so let’s be a loud voice in her ear. Everybody:

[CROWD CHEERS]

CAROL

Get out your phones and tweet: #SaveZoe at Judge Elizabeth Gardner. Go ahead, everybody, do it now. Or you could email too, [email protected].

DIANA

Hotmail? Oh my god. Can I hear some of her songs on Myspace? [laughs]

CAROL

While you guys do that, I wanted to read some uhh zebra facts to you that you might not know. Uhhh, okay. Zoe the zebra’s latin name is Equus quagga.

[CROWD CHEERS]

CAROL When zebras stay in groups, their stripes confuse the eyes of would-be predators, making it hard to single out an individual. The stripes of each zebra are unique, like...

DANE [to listener]

The all-night rally. I totally forgot it was tonight. It’s fucking going strong now too in the parking lot. Jesus, like everybody from Pepper Heights is here. I’m just wandering through the crowd, everybody all around me in their zebra shirts with their “SAVE ZOE” signs, and my head is killing me because I haven’t eaten like anything all day, and I just got escorted out of my work place by Sheila fucking Panzarelli and then told to wait here by a fucking twelve year old. Which, I was so out of it that I actually did for a minute before I was like “what the fuck am I doing?” Also, why the fuck is Sheila doing security sweeps? [sighs]. I should probably just go home. Hey, I know that guy from the coffee shop. Wait, maybe they have free food here. The crowd is starting to get very bored of the wasp lady’s zebra facts.

CAROL Zebras are not horses, people.

DANE I see Luke looking down at his phone on the side of the crowd. He looks up, and for some reason I do that thing where I act like I don’t see him, and I think I’ll just look back in a couple of seconds and casually see him, but when I look back he’s walking away, like maybe he didn’t see me the first time? So I start to thread through the crowd to follow him, but I keep losing sight of him, and the boring science channel stuff on stage apparently signaled bathroom and coffee break to everyone, so they’re all moving around. And all of them are wearing zebra stripes so they all blend together, like, my eyes hurt. Where the fuck did he go? I think- there, there. No. there! No. I literally feel like a starving lion trying to pick a meal out of the black and white swirl. Jesus, this really works, good job nature. So I start moving quicker through the crowd, and I think I'm turned around, I'm going to the middle again? People are really starting to jostle me now. The murmurs have turned into full on talking, like no one’s even pretending to pay attention to the stage, which is somewhere behind me at this point. There! I see him again. He’s just fifteen feet from me, facing the other way.

DANE [to crowd]

Excuse me, excuse me, sorry, sorry.

DANE [to listener]

I bump into some teenage boys, I pass a family, almost tripping over a stroller. Finally I get up to him, and I reach up and tap his shoulder.

DANE [to boy]

Luke.

DANE [to listener]

He turns around, but it’s not Luke. it’s just another boy.

DANE [to boy]

Oh, s-sorry. No I just… I thought you were someone else.

DANE [to listener]

I turn back towards the stage. It’s just a sea of writhing zebra stripes. Then someone taps my arm. I turn around quick, but I don't see anyone. Wait, it’s a kid. Like, seven years old maybe? Standing there and looking up at me.

DANE [to kid]

Hey. Do you need help?

DANE [to listener]

He hands me a flier. I take it and look at it, but it’s not a “SAVE ZOE” flier. It just says “#WHATABOUTIAN” in big, bold type. I look back up at him, but he’s already running back out of the crowd. And then he disappears into a smaller crowd at the side of the rally that I hadn't noticed before. They’re counter-protestors. Some of them have signs that say the same thing: “#WHATABOUTIAN”, and others have signs that have two pictures side by side on them. The first picture is Ian as a little kid, smiling and playing in the grass, but the second picture is the police photo of when they found his dead body. Wow, it’s intense.

CAROL

A group of zebras is referred to as a herd, dazzle, or a zeal. Ha! which is totally neat. Of course, Zoe is a single zebra which is, you know, just called a zebra. Umm-

DIANA

Ok, Carol, thank you.

[LIGHT APPLAUSE]

DIANA

Let’s do more facts later.

CAROL Oh, Okay. Anyone who has questions can talk to me later.

DIANA Okay! [sighs] Okay Kritchy, you coward! I am standing here in my zebra striped dress with my zebra striped sleeping bag, in case this goes long, and my thermos of hot toddies and my zebra slippers, and I am waiting for you to get up the courage to come out here and look me in my face. What do we say, everyone?

CROWD SAVE ZOE!

DIANA What do we say?

CROWD SAVE ZOE!

DIANA

That’s right!

[CROWD CHEERS AND CLAPS]

DIANA

I think we should try to enchant Mr. Kritch out to talk to us with a little song.

[ACOUSTIC GUITAR CHORD]

DIANA What do you say, everybody? You wanna sing together with me? Come on, you ready? Here.

[BEGINS TO PLAY GUITAR]

DIANA I’ll start us off.

[GUITAR INTRO]

DIANA [sung]

We shall overcome

We shall overcome someday

PERSON IN CROWD I love you Diana!!

[CROWD CHEERS AND CLAPS]

DIANA [sung]

Deep in my heart

I do believe

We shall overcome someday

DIANA

We’ll walk hand in hand!

CROWD [sung]

We’ll walk hand in hand

We’ll walk hand in hand someday

[SONG CONTINUES UNDER THE FOLLOWING]

DANE [to listener] I swear I just heard Luke’s voice. Like, close by. I look around, but I don't see him. Then, a huge zebra striped balloon floats by, and I look. I watch it pass, and then Luke is right there, just ten feet from me. He sees me too. He doesn’t seem surprised, though. I walk up to him slowly, and he puts his phone in his pocket and straightens up. As I get closer I can see his face. It’s sort of a mix of shy and embarrassed and glad and pouty all at the same time.

LUKE Hey.

DANE Hey.

LUKE

What’s up?

DANE Nothing, what’s up with you?

LUKE Nothing.

DANE AND LUKE

[unintelligible]

[BOTH LAUGH]

LUKE Yeah, so look, I just um, you know-

JENNIFER

There you are, jesus! Why didn’t you stay over there?

DANE

Fuck, Jennifer! Because I'm not your poodle. Like, for being an anti-fascist you really are-

JENNIFER We don’t have time for this.

DANE [to listener]

The twins, Merryl and Sherryl, walk up behind her. Jennifer looks anxious. She looks down at her watch and then scans the crowd. Luke looks at all of us with a wrinkled expression.

LUKE

What are you guys doing?

DANE We are doing nothing. I don’t know what she’s doing

DANE [to listener]

For once, Jennifer doesn’t look angry or mean or smug, she almost looks like a kid. She gets closer to me, looks right at me.

JENNIFER

They are keeping an animal I love in the dark alone in there, and it’s killing her. Tonight, I’m gonna go get her out of that dark.

DANE That’s, like, literally what happens at any zoo.

JENNIFER Exactly! They’re all animal jails.

LUKE So you wanna jailbreak Zoe? You’re a little badass.

JENNIFER Yes, but...

DANE [to listener]

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, then lets it out and opens them and looks at me JENNIFER

I need your help.

DANE [to Jennifer] What are you talking about, you’re crazy. Like, you’re twelve years old, what the fuck are you planning on doing?

JENNIFER First, I’m almost thirteen. Second, growing up is a myth. And third-

DANE [to listener]

She looks back at the twins, standing on either side of her, and then back to me with a weird smile

JENNIFER We have a plan.

DANE [to listener]

Then she sees something to her left behind me, and her eyes go wide and her face gets serious

JENNIFER Oh no. He’s early.

DANE [to listener]

I turn around and follow her stare. On the back edge of the parking lot, far from the crowd, there’s a utility truck parked under a light pole, and a man in a bucket on a crane coming up from the truck, and the bucket is rising. It gets to the top and then stops.

JENNIFER Okay, okay, it’s go time. Merryl, Sherryl, stay on the time markers no matter what? Got it?

TWIN 1

Got it.

TWIN 2

Uh, okay.

DANE [to JENNIFER]

What is going on?

JENNIFER No more time.

DANE [to listener]

She looks at me and Luke.

JENNIFER

You in or out?

DANE I don’t… I don’t even know what you’re talking about, like in what?

DANE [to listener]

Her face looks strange.

JENNIFER Please.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Please what?!

DANE [to listener]

The power goes out, the lights on the stage and everything. The crowd stops singing and everyone starts shuffling and murmuring, slowly starting to panic. People start yelling for their kids. The only light is from the billboard for the exhibit way at the other end of the parking lot. Luke steps forward and looks at Jennifer.

LUKE We’re in.

DANE [to listener]

I look at Luke. he won’t even look back at me.

JENNIFER Great. Follow us.

DANE [to listener]

She takes off through the crowd, the twins just behind her. I keep looking at Luke, but he just takes off after them.

[SILENCE]

Jennifer, the twins, and Luke are all standing in front of a hole dug under the fence in front of the zoo. Right as I walk up, Jennifer kneels down and starts to go under the fence. I look around, but nobody sees her, everyone's just scrambling in the dark and paying no attention. The power going out was a classic diversion. Did she plan all this? Like, what organization are they a part of, the CIA for kids? Jennifer goes through the hole, then the twins, and then Luke. [sighs] I look around one more time. Fuck. [sighs] I follow them through. [panting] I get up and brush myself off, and then I go over to where they’re at, in the shadows against the souvenir stands and ticket booths.

[DREAMBOY SONG PLAYS IN BACKGROUND]

DANE [to group]

Guys! Am I the only one worried about getting caught? Like, what about the security guards? Or Kritch, Sheila.

JENNIFER Kritch is watching the livestream of the rally in his office, I bet you fifty bucks, and the security guards follow the same routine every single night. Three guards, three booths, they rotate between the three booths every thirty minutes.

DANE [to listener]

She looks down at her watch.

JENNIFER We have another twenty-five minutes before the next rotation.

DANE [to Jennifer] What about Sheila? Like, she’s the scariest one.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer considers the question.

JENNIFER

She is sort of a wild card. But it’s a risk we will have to take. The good news is, she’s not exactly good at being covert. Everybody just look out for a wheezy, cussing thing with a lightsaber flashlight.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Look, this isn’t just about getting banned from the zoo or me getting fired, like we could all get arrested. On serious charges! Which is a big deal if you’re not a little kid.

DANE [to listener]

Luke still isn’t looking at me.

LUKE

It’s weird they leave the music on all night.

TWIN

It’s for the animals.

JENNIFER

Okay, let’s go.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer runs off into the shadows, weaving between food stands, pausing whenever she can, looking at her watch. God, it’s like she was made for this. Her legs flick in and out of the dim light, and the twins are in lock step right behind her, and Luke is right behind them, his legs almost as quick, and I'm following with legs… legs of a person that doesn’t wanna get arrested.

[CICADA NOISES]

DANE [to listener]

[sighs] The twins are whispering things to us like little tour guides

TWIN 1 Over there’s the rides.

TWIN 2

And the Candy Clown

LUKE

[sighs] I used to hate the Candy Clown.

JENNIFER

Come on!

DANE [to listener] Jennifer’s moving like a little Navy SEAL, doing that thing where she points at her eyes then points ahead.

TWIN 1

There’s the swan.

DANE [to listener]

The other twin points to a single white swan next to the pond. It looks blue in the night, its head is hidden in its wings. I stop. There’s an information kiosk in front of us, but there’s a movement inside.

DANE [to group]

Guys, wait. There’s someone inside that booth.

DANE [to listener]

The twins both look back and smile.

TWIN 1 Lost and found.

TWIN 2

All the phones.

DANE [to twins] Oh, jesus. Okay.

DANE [to listener]

I look in the window as we pass it. There’s a cardboard box full of phones. A lot of them are dead, but some are flickering with messages. “Where are you?” “Are you mad at me?” “Hey.”

JENNIFER Come on!

DANE [to listener]

We round another food stand, walk along this low wall for a few seconds, and then I see it.

TWIN

The animal gate.

DANE [to listener]

There’s this tall, decorative iron gate set into a high stone wall that separates the animal exhibits from the rides and food and stuff. It’s this overwhelming, intricate scene of animals all sculpted with wrought iron, their bodies all twisting around each other and their faces all looking up. It’s like a gothic mural but with metal animals, but I’ve never actually really looked at it cause it’s swung open when the zoo is open. Now that I see it, it’s really beautiful. Luke slowly walks forward and looks up at the gate.

LUKE Oh my god. I remember when I was a kid, getting here early enough to see them open the animal gate was like the most magical thing, and then once we got inside my mom and I would always do the same exact thing every time: chocolate ice cream cone with a hard dipped shell and then visit Zoe. I remember her being almost close enough to touch, it’s like so weird to think that-

[JENNIFER GRUNTING]

DANE [to listener]

I look over off to the side of the gate. Jennifer’s trying to unlatch the huge metal bar attached to the stone wall.

[JENNIFER GRUNTING LOUDER]

DANE [to Jennifer]

Mmm, need help? DANE [to listener]

Then the latch comes loose and the gate swings free with a loud deep groan.

[GATE CREAKING, JENNIFER PANTING]

DANE [to group]

Wow, lotta good that does keeping people out.

DANE [to listener] Jennifer steps back onto the path and brushes her clothes off, a little out of breath.

JENNIFER

It’s not meant to keep us out, it’s meant to keep them in.

DANE [to listener]

Then she walks through the gate; the twins follow. Luke goes through behind them but stops when he sees I'm not following. He turns around and looks at me, for the first time since the parking lot.

LUKE You coming?

DANE

[sighs] I don’t know. What if I say no?

DANE [to listener]

He walks up to me. His face is really soft and sweet, and he doesn’t look mad at all, like does he not know he didn’t text me all day long and like left me hanging? Like, what the fuck is he thinking?

LUKE

Are you really gonna say no?

DANE [to listener]

He reaches out and grabs my hand. My body twitches like an electromagnet.

[TWINKLY MUSIC]

DANE [to listener]

The animal section of the zoo is dark except for a few random bluish-white lights that make everything look dead and icy. Luke is still holding my hand.

LUKE These lights are weird. Also, isn’t the power out? Like-

JENNIFER Those are emergency lights. Backup generator, only essential systems.

DANE [to listener] She keeps her eyes ahead as she talks. And all three of them, the not girl scouts, are walking in front of me and Luke at that specific speed of children that want you to know that they know where they’re going and that they’re not afraid. And Jennifer starts whispering things too and pointing. It’s like all three of them have the whole history of this place memorized, but I can’t quite pay attention because all I can think about is Luke’s hand.

JENNIFER

That’s the creepy-crawlies building. My dad says that it’s just an old shed they like infested with bugs, and it’s a crime that they make people pay to see it. TWIN

That’s the parrot William something. He’s old. He talks but he just says numbers.

JENNIFER

There’s the lion and tigers and bears exhibit. A lion, a tiger, and bear that used to be movie animals. The tiger’s been dead for years, though.

TWIN

So now it’s just a lion and a bear.

DANE [to listener]

I’m trying not to look at Luke, but there’s this feeling between our arms. It’s like a buzzing.

TWIN There’s the new exhibit. They’ve been digging holes over there for months now.

DANE [to listener]

There’s a low wooden barricade in front of the new exhibit with a sign that says “coming soon” on it and another sign that’s half ripped down that says “Forgotten Sea”. The buzzing feeling surges. We both yank our hands away.

TWIN That’s a bathroom.

DANE [to listener]

I hear a tarp snapping in the wind somewhere over in the dark of the new exhibit. Something in my body turns over. Then I hear music. Opera.

[OPERA PLAYING FAINTLY]

JENNIFER That’s Madam Beauregard’s radio. She has to listen to music when she sleeps or she has nightmares. She used to be a NASA flight test chimp, and she went to space once, but she came back crazy. Then she lived in the swampy part of Florida where some man made her do this sideshow act on the side of the road.

TWIN

Made her wear a nightgown and read a paper and drink coffee

JENNIFER Yeah, but he actually gave her real coffee, so she got addicted. Now she has to have coffee right when she wakes up or she goes insane.

LUKE Wow. How did I not know any of this stuff?

DANE [to listener]

We come around a curve where the main path sort of narrows and then ends at this long iron fence. Just darkness beyond. Jennifer walks up to the fence and stops.

JENNIFER Zoe’s exhibit. Or, used to be.

DANE [to Jennifer]

I mean they still let her outside a little bit, way far back there so people at least can still see her.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer looks at me with a pathetic look. Then she hops up and starts to climb the fence.

DANE [to Jennifer]

What the fuck are you doing?

DANE [to listener] In no time she’s over and standing in the artificial savannah, looking back at us.

JENNIFER Come on.

DANE [to listener]

The twins go over. Then Luke. I'm starting to sense a pattern here, so I put my foot on the fence, but it immediately slips, and I hit my knee hard, and I fall a little bit, and I do that thing where it hurts so bad that you just hold it and rock back and forth while everyone waits. [grunts, breathes deeply, sighs] I try again. I really don’t know if I can do this. Jennifer’s trying to coach me, but it’s just annoying.

JENNIFER

Ughh, just put your foot on the wall.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Yeah. JENNIFER Put your other foot on the fence. Now grab the- No no no.

DANE [to Jennifer[

What?

JENNIFER

Hold on with both hands and kind of swing your hip, yeah. Swing your hips. Okay, no, like that but do it better.

DANE [to Jennifer]

I’m trying.

JENNIFER

Just swing your hips, yeah, now pull- pull yourself, now pull yourself, okay.

[DANE GRUNTING]

JENNIFER

Okay, there it is.

DANE

Goddamn.

DANE [to listener]

I finally make it over and land with a grunt in the dirt. [groans]

TWIN

This is the spot where the Harris boy climbed in.

DANE [to listener]

The twin is looking right at me, then she points to a spot on the ground by the wall.

TWIN

And that’s where he died.

DANE

Whoa.

DANE [to listener]

I look at the spot. I think about the picture I saw on those signs in the parking lot.

JENNIFER

He wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for toxic masculine peer pressure.

DANE

What? TWIN

It’s a tradition for high school boys to break in here at night and touch Zoe.

DANE

But he was like eleven.

JENNIFER

Exactly. He heard about his older brothers doing it and wanted to be cool like them. Stupid boy stuff.

DANE Exactly. Stupid. And here we are doing the exact same thing, like-

JENNIFER Trust me, I have a plan.

DANE [to listener]

I look down at the spot on the ground again. I think I can still see blood stains, but it’s so dark I can't be sure.

JENNIFER

Now, let's go!

DANE [to listener]

We tip-toe through Zoe’s artificial environment. It’s made to resemble a rocky outcrop in an African savannah, so what look like rocks from the front are actually just plastic and hollow in the back. But, I mean, I guess this savannah wasn’t made for Zoe anyway.

JENNIFER

[breathes deeply] Okay. This is it. Where’s your keys?

DANE [to listener]

There’s a door. It’s made to look like stone.

DANE [to Jennifer]

That’s the help you needed? My keys? I told you I only have keys to the ride building and the broom closet, that’s it, those two. So looks like we’re all just gonna go home, good plan.

LUKE

Wait, we’re not actually gonna go inside-inside are we?

DANE

No we’re not, not without keys.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer walks up and looks at me and slams her brow down over her eyes.

JENNIFER

Listen: come in or not, I don’t care, but I’ve been planning tonight for months, and all I need is to get through that door, and then you can go. After that door is open, I don't care where you go.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Yeah right, and let you just get killed by a murderous zebra? They’d put me in jail for letting you in, stupid.

JENNIFER

I told you already, Zoe died months ago. Give me the keys and I'll show you.

LUKE Wait, what?

DANE

These keys?

DANE [to listener]

I take my keys from my pocket, and I throw them at her feet.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Go ahead, try them. I told you they don’t fucking go to these doors, so have at it.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer grabs the keys from the ground, walks over to the door, and sticks them in. The broom closet one immediately works. The door swings open. She yanks my keys from the knob and throws them back at my feet. Then she snears at me and disappears into the dark. The twins follow. [sighs] I don’t understand. Like… I don’t understand.

LUKE

Zoe’s dead?

DANE [to listener]

I’m still looking at the dark of the doorway where Jennifer and the twins disappeared. Almost talking to myself.

DANE [to Luke]

I... who knows? I don’t know. She could be, I guess.

LUKE

Zoe’s dead.

DANE [to listener] I hear something edging in Luke’s voice. I look over at him. He’s looking down. His eyes are distant.

DANE Well, we don’t know that yet.

DANE

He kneels down quickly and starts to pick up pieces of gravel just to have something to do with his hands, it looks like. The whole time, he’s looking off in the distance. I walk up to him slowly and kneel down beside him. His lip is trembling. He can’t look at me. I wait a few seconds, unsure of what to do, and then I reach out and put my hand on his shoulder.

DANE [to Luke]

Hey…

DANE [to listener]

But as soon as I touch him, he just start sobbing like he can’t hold it back anymore

[LUKE SOBBING]

DANE

And he falls into me, and he wraps his arms around my torso and cries onto my neck. I feel the wetness on my skin. It feels weirdly good that he’s crying on me, and then I feel weird that it feels good.

DANE [to Luke]

Hey buddy, you’re okay, you’re okay.

[LUKE BREATHING DEEPLY]

DANE [to listener]

After a bit, his rhythm slowly evens out, and his fingers unclench from my shirt in the back, and he buries his face in my neck and just breathes. I breathe too. Our breathing is lining up.

[DANE AND LUKE BREATHE]

DANE

We both pull away, and get to our feet. We don’t really look at each other. Instead, our eyes fall on the open doorway.

LUKE

We have to go in there. We have to make sure they don’t get hurt.

DANE

[groans]

LUKE [sighs] Yeah, I know.

DANE

The darkness in the doorway seems to be looking back at us like a giant eye socket. I don’t wanna go in there. But I know whatever’s going on with this zoo and this zebra is weird. I mean, everything about this place is weird, but I just feel like the answer’s... the answer’s through that door.

[DISTANT SCREAM]

[DREAMBOY THEME PLAYS]

ELLIE HAYMEN

Dreamboy is co-created by Dane Terry and Ellie Haymen. Developed and directed by Ellie Haymen. Written, composed, and performed by Dane Terry, featuring Michael Cavadias, Dito Van Reigersberg, Renata Friedman, Morgan Meadows, Avery Draut, Gianna Masi, Alice Tolan-Mee, Somerset Thompson, and Jake Sellers Sound Designed, Engineered, Mixed and Mastered by Chris Weingarten at Bananappeal Studio. Edited by Alexander Charles Adams. Creative Producer and Assistant Director: Ashlin Hatch. Associate producer: Adam Cecil. Executive Producer: Christy Gressman. A very special thanks to Night Vale Presents. You can find us on Twitter and Instagram @dreamboypodcast. For more info and for merch check out dreamboypodcast.com.

#do i have to put a disclaimer? idk how these things work. this isn't my podcast i'm just a fan #dreamboy #dreamboy podcast #night vale presents

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fancoloredglasses · 4 years

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Hulk Hogan’s Rock ‘n’ Wrestling (as painful as a camel clutch to watch)

youtube

(Thanks to Derek S)

[All images are owned by DIC Animation City and World Wrestling Entertainment. I promise I’m too poor to sue]

Blame psychelynx for this. They requested it, and I’m doing it (under protest)

OK, confession time again. I’m a long-time fan of professional wrestling. I also grew up in the northeast, so the only wrestling I could get was the World Wrestling Federation (now known as World Wrestling Entertainment or WWE. Damn pandas...). Later, once I was able to see “southern style” wrestling through World Championship Wrestling (WCW) I realized what I was missing.

These days, I still consider myself a wrestling fan, but a lot of what’s on TV is a far cry from wrestling, but that’s a rant for another day. We’re here to show how much the World Wrestling Federation (I will not be using their acronym as I don’t wanna get sued by the World Wildlife Fund or WWF) pandered to kids in the era of Hulkamania (and how dumb they thought kids were in the 80s)

NOTE: A few of the wrestlers featured had an allegiance shift and/or were fired during the original airing (or shortly after), plus their popularity may have faded due to later events. I am therefore just looking at the show as its own “universe” outside the World Wrestling Federation, though I will note how things may have differed

The “cast” were as follows (and I will have to explain who’s who, as they don’t look like their namesakes and the voice actors don’t sound anything like them either)

For the good guys (or “babyfaces”, to use wrestler lingo) we had...

From front to back: Hulk Hogan (note that his cartoon version has a full head of hair when even in 1985 his hairline was receding down the back of his head), Tito Santana (I actually had to watch a couple of episodes to be certain who it was), “Superfly” Jimmy Snuka (who was decades away from being arrested for a murder that happened before this aired), Captain Lou Albano, Wendi Richter (who was fired while the show was on the air), Junkyard Dog, Hillbilly Jim, and Andre the Giant (who was about a year away from becoming a bad guy and challenging Hogan for the title)

For the bad guys (or “heels”) we had...

Big John Studd and “Rowdy” Roddy Piper (just months before becoming a Babyface and leaving to film They Live) along with...

Nikolai Volkoff, the Iron Sheik (who never actually had abs that looked that good), Mr. Fuji, and the Fabulous Moolah

Also featured on the program were...

Bobby “The Brain” Heenan and...

“Mean” Gene Okerlund

The shows featured two short cartoons (or one full-length cartoon) filled with plots that would have been rejected by the Three Stooges (such as Junkyard Dog and Piper in a race for the right for their car to be crushed by a giant robot dinosaur) and the wrestlers are complete idiots (such as Andre trying to hide a radio the babyfaces need by sitting on it (keep in mind that the real-life Andre the Giant was billed as over 450 pounds))

In between this comedy “gold” (more like lead), we are “treated” to “comedy” sketches by the real-life wrestlers such as this lunacy...

youtube

(Thanks to Saturday Morning Deathgrip)

There is one minor bright spot (just for the sheer comedy...certainly not for the music) that came from this show. It repeatedly showed this little ditty, a cover of Wilson Pickett’s Land of 1000 Dances, performed by pretty much the entire lineup of the World Wrestling Federation

youtube

(Thanks to morrisonAV)

Holy crap, was that Meat Loaf on drums?

Of course, given what was on World Wrestling Federation programming in the 80s, I guess you couldn’t be too surprised by any of this...

#world wrestling federation #hulk hogan #animation #Fan Colored Glasses

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the-nerktwins · 5 years

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There’s more to “Another Day” than meets the eye…or, ear…

Sometimes the most interesting thoughts are captured during discussions. I recently began a thread in a Beatles forum I’m a member of, about Paul’s song “Another Day” and the deeper meaning I personally found within it. The conversation veered into two different directions. One was the concept of the lyrical content being overlooked for a few possible reasons, not the least of them being that the protagonist was a woman. The other branch of this conversation veered towards was the musical anatomy of the song and how it serves to add texture to the story the lyrics are telling.

It’s with regret that I report that some participants completely overlooked the musical complexity of this track. To illustrate, here are a couple of key quotes from respondents in the thread I started:

“In contrast to 'Eleanor Rigby, 'Another Day' is cute and perfect instead of full of contrast and dynamics. The cozy comfort of the music itself reflects the bland predictability of the protagonists' life, as depicted in the song. I'm just not sure that's the best approach to take. I think John and George's (Martin) influence would have added some dimension.”

“Yes it's typical of McCartney to wrap a dark story in a cute song. He likes to hide things (even from himself).”

I was left wondering if me and these posters were even listening to the same song! I was also reminded of how ready people are to default to and parrot the (false and grossly oversimplified) talking points that the fandom has been spoon-fed about Paul’s songcraft since the 1970’s. Paul is hardly ever regarded as a valid artist in his own right outside of the Beatles collective, that is terribly, truly wrongheaded in every imaginable way.

I find it galling that many fans still want to hear his early, solo work with a “Lennon filter” applied to it. I’ve seen people saying things like, “This song is good, but if he’d done it with John it would’ve been GREAT!” I completely disagree. McCartney’s compositional abilities by 1967 had evolved to the point where he could “hear” in his head almost exactly what he wanted his final product to sound like. He was adept at articulating his vision to producers, engineers, and bandmates rather early on.

It also hasn’t escaped my notice that certain fans resent his abilities within the confines of the Beatles’ collective since it did contribute to some friction within the band during their late period, and then they turn around and completely ignore his competency when it comes to his solo work (and lament that he couldn’t collaborate with Lennon or George Martin on particular solo songs). It’s a paradoxical mentality and I’m not shy about denouncing it. It gives me whiplash, if I’m quite honest about it!

Since I don’t know (and didn’t ask) the participants about whether they’ve had any experience as musicians, I can make some allowance for the fact that people who’ve played music can hear things in a piece that non-musicians may not pick up on. The thing is, there exist a fair number of sources which could at least illustrate what’s going on musically in “Another Day.”

As for me, since I have a musical background, and I can HEAR what’s going on. To me there are “contrast and dynamics.” The song builds, crescendos, and comes back down again. There's a lot going on in terms of time signature changes, and decorative elements which add texture to the story being told. It’s brilliant! I realize that someone who has little to no musical experience could miss it. There are musically-inclined people out there who can explain it, however, and I went looking online for just that. I conducted two simple Google searches: “Paul McCartney Another Day Musical Analysis,” and “Paul McCartney Another Day Sheet Music.”

With the second search, I found a website which allows the user to play a midi file of the song (with the lead vocals, backing vocals, and every instrument) while the user is taken through the sheet music. The parts being played highlight what’s going on in the song as it’s playing. If someone is inexperienced as a musician, it can serve as a nice, visual aid to see just how complex a composition is, and how much is going on within it. Here’s a screenshot of the site, and a link to “Another Day” for illustrative purposes.

"Another Day" by Paul and Linda McCartney on MuseScore.com

To me this is proof-positive that "Another Day" isn't just a cutesy, fluffy song.

For some further argument in the favor of the musical merits of this song, I stumbled upon comments from fans in the Steve Hoffman music forums, in a thread called "Paul McCartney 'Another Day' Appreciation Thread"

After the bit ".... leaves the next daaaaayyyy..." there's this descending run on the guitar that is perfectly placed, but very difficult indeed to play. – Edgard Varese

yeah, another day is an absolutely killer track. to me its really the perfect song: catchy as hell, yet imaginative and really far more complex than a casual listener would ever realize. i also agree with the thoughts on the rythym guitar. great song to learn for any guitar player, not just for the rythm, but for the chords also. i believe it starts with a g to a b7 with an f# bass and really you've got me hooked from there – andyw676

Listen to the bassline...amazing. – Stateless

I've always loved this song, everything about it really. The undertone of Rigby-esque sadness was obvious to me from the get-go, and the yearning in the "sometimes she feels so sad" bit as the music shifts up and down chromatically always put a lump in my throat. Paul's very good at getting some of the more delicate emotional shadings in his songs. Great song. Thanks for the thread! -- Gardo

That song has some crazy chord changes, and lots of em. Makes it special. – Dave D

To diverge just a little bit into lyrical territory, there were some nuggets of push-back within this Steve Hoffman thread against the typical appraisal of this song, namely it being labeled as “lightweight” or “trite” by certain critics or fans.

Similarly, on "Another Day" if you read the lyrics carefully you may come away feeling not uplifted by a catchy little ditty but a mite saddened by the sometimes crushing loneliness of the modern grind. Personally I love the "At the office where the papers grow..." and "Alone in her apartment she'd dwell..." parts, some of Paul's best lyrics. Remarkable concision. – Dr J

I don't consider it quite as light as I did. It's almost a social commentary on the way women's lives were in the 70s, although not a knock at anyone specific. I admit I'm stealing a little of my wife's analysis. – kevinsinnott

I find it interesting to note that the second poster needed some assistance from a woman regarding his appraisal of the lyrical content. It’s another reminder of the depressing reality that this song is likely written off as superficial and lightweight, and not much analysis applied to it, but because the protagonist is a woman. Just as a lot of our struggles as women are ignored or ridiculed, a song written by a male who sympathizes with our plight is written off as “silly” and “fluffy” by male fans, even if the lyrics have a dark subtext.

To me, the song speaks of something dark and existential going on within the protagonist's psyche, and Paul himself is simply a narrator, imploring the audience to empathize with her as much as he does. And by empathizing with the plight of a woman, Paul unfortunately gets labeled a superficial square who creates “Muzak” and isn’t “Rock N’ Roll” enough. And that’s not right any way you slice it. Even more ironic is that not long after "Another Day," Lennon at the behest of his wife would be singing and talking about Women's struggles for equal rights and the injustice of it all. He glibly missed his former songwriting partner's intent in this song. That's not unlike John at all, however, and that's certainly not the point of this essay. It's just an observation I found interesting.

"Another Day" also speaks to me as an acknowledgement that people who are highly functional can and do suffer depression; people are coached to wear a mask of being “OK” because it’s not socially acceptable to admit you are not OK. Just keep your head down, go to work, do what you’re supposed to do, get on with it, and don’t tell anyone about your problems…

“As she posts another letter to the sound of five People gather 'round her and she finds it hard to stay alive.”

To go back to the song being marginalized as a little bit of radio-friendly, pop fluff, when to me it clearly is NOT for a moment, I want to acknowledge something. Fans were less able to access opposing literature and materials in the early 1970’s, and McCartney himself wasn’t talking much to the press (and unless you’re a brand-new fan, you know why), so I can see why people sort of accepted this viewpoint at the time.

As Erin Torkelson-Weber has pointed out in interviews and on her blog, “The Historian and the Beatles,” Paul’s relative lack of response to the talking points being pushed by John and Yoko within their post-breakup PR campaign, as well as Paul choosing not to give too much weight to the unfair critical appraisal of his work that was tainted by rock music “journalists” essentially siding with John and Yoko, really created a vacuum, allowing for the fandom’s appraisal of Paul’s work to be dominated by this narrative. Therefore, it’s natural that many, if not most fans in 1971 would buy into these sentiments.

What I find annoying is that this tendency continues to persist within the fandom, even among younger fans! This is despite having a considerable amount of evidence available at our fingertips that can serve to point out how very wrong this narrative truly is, up to and including the damn sheet music!

With the ability we now possess to access contemporaneous source material and examine all of it objectively, and the ability to listen to virtually all of his music for free via the major, online streaming services, it demonstrates laziness when people within the fandom choose not to think for themselves regarding McCartney’s genius and artistic merit separate from the other Beatles (namely Lennon).

“Another Day” isn’t the only McCartney work I’ve seen suffer under-appreciation by fans, but it’s an excellent example to illustrate my point, since it was specifically singled out by Lennon and early 70’s rock critics and used as a device by Lennon and the prominent rock critics of the day to publicly mock McCartney and call his integrity as an artist into question.

A lot of McCartney’s solo work is written off in a similar fashion, and what a terrible shame that is. Quite frankly, I think people are depriving themselves of a lot of pleasure by simply dismissing McCartney and avoiding his music (or sticking to his “greatest hits” without delving into his catalog and giving everything a thorough listen), based on these antiquated appraisals of his work.

In conclusion, I hope this essay didn’t come across too harshly. I just hope it may inspire people to listen more carefully to Paul McCartney’s solo work and give him the credit as an artist that he duly deserves.

#another day #musical analysis #my posts #paul mccartney #solo #songs

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totalrockfiend · 4 years

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Celebrating it’s 25th Anniversary: The Class of ‘94 Rocks!

1991 may have been the year Nirvana broke...

And the unleashed a Grunge-y tidal wave on rock radio, then dominated by slickly produced, Top 40-driven acts, and MTV’s Hair Metal heavy rotation. Deftly washing both away in seemingly one fell swoop.

But while Nirvana may have kicked off the party, 1994 was year the ‘90s alt-rock explosion reached it’s apex. (At least viewing the whole affair with the 20/20 clarity hindsight so often affords.)

Why do we care?

A fair question, Grasshopper!

Mostly because this genre defining class is celebrated its 25th, or Silver, anniversary in 2019 (the year to which we’ve just bid are final farewells).

And WOW! What at year for rock records 1994 proved to be...

Green Day became multi-platinum punks.

Weezer took nerdy indie rock mainstream.

Stone Temple Pilots hopped off the Grunge bandwagon and emerged as starts in their own right.

REM got back to rockin’.

Live (the band) took a turn toward grungy noise-rock.

And loads of other bands served up some of their most memorable raging slabs, too.

So, in honorarium, I’m taking a moment to laud my top picks for best in show from ‘94s venerable class, along with shouting out TO a few honorable mentions (just for good measure)...

Dookie, Green Day

On their 3rd effort, and first for a major label (Reprise Records, a subsidiary of the mega entertainment group, Warner Bros), these Bay Area punks (and one-time Gilman Street darlings) rocketed to the stratosphere with Dookie.

The powerhouse album would go on to sell 20 million records, become a worldwide smash, spawn five Billboard Top 10 hit singles (including three #1 singles), and turn the band into international SUPERSTARS -- with a capital S!

While the capable power trio laid down tight, inspired performances, the Dookie’s success was due largely to singer + guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong’s insightful and impassioned songwriting. From masturbation to the shear boredom of life to totally losing your marbles, Joe’s reflective songs captured the trials and tribulations of everyman, with a wry, relatable wit.

And in turn, Green Day paved the way for the Offspring, Blink 182, and legions of other bands who stormed the mainstream in the resulting Pop Punk explosion of the latter ‘90s.

(The Blue Album), Weezer

Whether it’s technically an eponymously titled record, or the true title was always meant to be the “Blue Album” (as it’s long been known), who can say?

Here’s what is certain: Rivers Cuomo -- with his horn-rimmed glasses, Dungeons + Dragons shrouded past, and penchant for shredding -- and his band, Weezer usher nerdy indie rock onto mainstream rock radio and heavy rotation on MTV.

With crunchy guitar-driven odes to sadness and angst, this multi-platinum behemoth made it cool to be quirky nerd. Rivers was a (and like still is) a dude who could equally admire elves and KISS. And proved, once and for all, that’s OK.

And much like Green Day, Weezer inspired countless imitators in their unlikely march to mainstream success.

Purple, Stone Temple Pilots

When Stone Temple Pilots first launched of out of the gate, with their uber-successful debut, Core, my disdain for outfit could not have been greater.

Each successive song on that album felt like an ode to a Grunge standard-bearer...

Sex Type Thing was their Alice In Chains tune.

Wicked Garden was their Soundgarden track.

And Creep was their Pearl Jam song.

Yet, on their sophomore outing, STP proved they were more than mere Grunge rock hangers on. With rocked up ragers, like Vaseline, countrified romps, like Interstate Love Song, and fabulously folk-y ditties, like Pretty Penny, Purple is a bona fide masterpiece.

Monster, REM

I’ll give you a hint/sneak preview here -- I’m working on a Hot Take On a Tired Topic post titled “REM Only Has Three Good Albums,” and Monster is one of them!

To my ear, REM was always at their most compelling when the consciously RAWKED. And Monster was a return to form for the band in that regard.

After stepping away from touring to make two folk-inflected records -- Out of Time and Automatic For the People -- REM came roaring back with the aptly titled Monsters.

From the anxiety riddled panic of What’s the Frequency Kenneth to the eerie bombast of Bang and Blame to the Sonic Youth-y noise rock of Crush With Eyeliner, Monster saw REM bring the guitars, often a whole lot of ‘em, front and center. And the group rocked out harder than they ever had before, or ever would again.

Throwing Copper, Live

Live’s debut, Mental Jewelry, with it’s understated, mellow folk rock earned the band many accolades, not to mention respectable sales.

But not content to play it cool (or continue in their folk-y toned tenor), the band returned with a sophomore effort that cranked the guitars up to 11 and pushed singer Ed Kowalczyk towering voice faaaaaaaaaaaar out front in the album’s ferocious mix.

This high energy approach resulted in a Billboard #1 album and four hit singles. Which in turn established four lads from York, Pennsylvania (Yup, land of the famed Peppermint Paddy!) as poster boys for the then bright-burning Alt-Rock scene.

Some Honorable Mentions

Alongside these high-flying releases, ‘94 yielded loads more incredibly successful rock records, including...

Superunknown, Soundgarden

Seattle stalwarts and one of the leading acts in the “Grunge Movement,” Soundgarden scored their biggest on with the fourth record, Superunknown. The album’s soaring success was due largely to its chart-topping singles, including Spoonman, Fell On Black Days, and, of course, the tune MTV hung its hat for the summer of ‘94, Blackhole Sun.

The Downward Spiral, Nine Inch Nails

Trent Reznor and company set aside the bubbling and burbling synths of NIN’s depbute record, Pretty Hate Machine, and went full Industrial metal, a la Ministry, on the sophomore record. But while roaring tracks like Mr. Self Destruct and March of the Pigs blow the roof portions of the record, the album still manages synth weirdness with the very warped Closer, and delicate balladry courtesy of Hurt (a song Johnny Cash would later cover, issuing an incredibly powerful rendition).

Vitalogy, Pearl Jam

Vitalogy represented Pearl Jam’s third and final album in the band’s “grunge trilogy.” True to form, the boys rave it up with the punky, Spin The Black Circle, and get noisy on Tremor Christ and Whipping. But Seattle’s best also craft a pair of heartfelt ballads with Nothingman and Better Man. The record also includes my all-time fave Pearl Jam track, the masterpiece of loud-soft dynamics, Corduroy.

Unplugged, Nirvana

Nirvana honcho, Curt Kobain, sadly chose to end it all in ‘94. But he left his millions of adoring fans with an incredible live document with the band’s storied performance for MTV’s then hugely popular Unplugged series. And Curt generously invited a few friends to the party. Former Germs (and later, Foo Fighters) guitarist, Pam Smear was added to the lineup as a “permanent” member. In addition, Kurt + Chris Kirkwood, of the Meat Puppets, joined the band for brilliant performances of Puppet’s classics, Lake of Fire + Plateau.

Parklife, Blur

Britpop had yet to blossom in the US in the mid-90s. But never-the-less, four lovable lads from the UK managed to squeak the best record of their potent discography into the venerable class of ‘94. The rollicking Parklife is a feel good spin from front to finish. And features Blur’s all-time signature tune, the gender-bending hit single, Girls and Boys.

Definitely Maybe, Oasis

Was Definitely Maybe the spark that ultimately lit Britpop into the raging fire that overtook the States? Could be. What’s certain is Definitely Maybe is one of the most snarling debuts since the Sex Pistols Never Mind The Bollocks. And with equal parts sneer Pistols attitude, classicist rock stylings, and relentless “piss-taking,” as the Brits would term it, DM is a ‘90s era masterpiece.

Sixteen Stone, Bush

The UK’s answer to grunge? Bush’s debut album, Sixteen Stone, is certainly a likely candidate. But in reality, this album is more than a bandwagon jumping effort. The razor-sharp performances, and compelling song-craft, courtesy of lead singer + chief songwriter, Gavin Rossdale, cast this record as a staunchly compelling statement all on their own.

Stranger Than Fiction, Bad Religion

In the game since the late ‘70s, Bad Religion certainly qualify as one LA Punk’s founding fathers. Yet, who woulda thunk the band would not only still be afloat, but go mainstream (or at least sign to a major label) and decade and half later? Yup. And up. Moreover, BR even managed a charting single that same year with 21st Century Digital Boy.

How About You?

Hope you enjoyed this little jaunt down memory lane, cuz I certainly did!

But rather than hog the proceedings, I’d love to hear about some of your faves from records from the Class of ‘94... So, whadya got for me?

#totalrockfiend classof94 greenday weezer stonetemplepilots rem live

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squirrellybaby67 · 5 years

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Little Ditty About Jackie & Diane (Part 3)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Jackie starts off her trial period with the Winchester Brothers and moving into the bunker is step one.

Word Count: 2,590

Warnings: Language, Fluff

Heat of the Moment - Asia

"So glad you didn't change your mind overnight," Sam said as he opened the door to the bunker to let me in.

"I thought about it," I shrugged.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't," he smiled. "Ready for the grand tour?"

Sam showed me around the bunker, the extensive library, infirmary, shooting range, armory, kitchen, and bathrooms before stopping in front of a door with the number 15 on it. "This can be your room," he said before opening the door. "I'm right down this way in room 22 and Dean is over there in room 11. Jack's in room 23, he and Cas should be back this afternoon," he said as I walked into the room and sat my bags down on the bed.

"You haven't even shown her the best part, Sammy," Dean said as he leaned against the doorframe of my room. "Come on, let me show you where the real magic is." The bunker was a hunters dream, but the garage was something right out of my dreams. The moment the florescent lights hummed to life and showed me the wonders inside I was hooked and that smug look on Dean's face said he knew he found a way into my world. "It's a beauty isn't it?" he asked as he crossed his arms and leaned against the railing.

"These cars....." I trailed off before walking over to the classic 1956 Ford T-bird. I walked around it slowly, my fingers gently gliding along the smooth metal. The green color was definitely not my favorite, but the condition of the car was so impeccable, it was impossible to be mad at it. "I guess the Men of Letters were Ford guys," I smiled as I walked over to the midnight blue 1934 V8 Ford. "This is the same type of car Bonnie and Clyde died in," I mused, hearing Dean's footsteps coming up behind me.

"Wanna be the Bonnie to my Clyde?" His deep sing-song voice sent a shiver down my spine and I turned around to face him. He was leaning against the post closest to where I was, hands tucked into his back pockets, his eyebrows raised, and his full lips quirked at one side in an adorable grin.

"I don't feel like going out in a blaze of glory just yet. I still have some living to do." I chuckled before making my way over to look at the vintage motorcycles on the other side of the room.

"You can always park Diane in here," Dean said as he walked towards his Impala in the middle of the room. "I'm sure Baby wouldn't mind the company," he added as he leaned against the hood and gave it a caring rub.

"I may take you up on that offer," I grinned. "She could use a bath first. She's quite the dirty girl."

Dean coughed as if he had choked on air and I couldn't help the small giggle that escaped my throat. "You can....ah.....wash her in here," Dean said as he pointed over to an empty area that was equipped with a hose and drain. "The water pressure here is top notch. You'll get a nice wash."

"Good to know," I nodded, taking one last glance around the room and heading for the stairs back to the bunker.

"So why Diane?" Dean asked as he followed me back to the kitchen.

"I take it you aren't a Mellencamp fan?" I retorted as I grabbed two beers from the fridge.

"You're kidding, right?" Dean laughed, "Is your whole life a joke?"

"It was my Dad's favorite song, asshole," I replied with a death-glare. "But thanks for that," I said, trying to hide the hurt in my voice. I slammed the open beer I had gotten him down on the counter in front of him. It immediately started foaming and I walked away as Dean scrambled to put the beer to his lips before there was a huge mess.

~~~

"Jackie," Sam's voice asked through my locked room door.

"Hey," I said as I opened the door. "Oh, Hi there," I said to the teenage boy standing at Sam's side.

"Hi, I'm Jack," he smiled widely. "You are Jackie?"

"I am," I smiled back to the enthusiastic young man. "Nice to meet you, Jack." I stuck my hand out for him to shake and he took it quickly, shaking it vigorously, making me laugh.

"Jack and Cas just got back," Sam explained, "I was about to go get us all some lunch and wanted to see if you wanted to come."

"I'll drive," I grinned, itching to get some pavement beneath my wheels after being in the bunker all morning.

"I'll go see what Dean wants," Jack said, the smile on his face never wavering.

"Leave in five?" Sam asked and I gave him a nod before turning to go put my black chucks on.

~~~

"You and Dean seem to be getting along well," Sam said as we pulled onto the main road.

"We were," I replied, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Were?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's nothing. I'll get over it eventually," I shrugged.

"He's not as bad as he seems, I promise," Sam said as I parked the car at our destination. "He may be one of the best hunters I've ever seen, but he's a big teddy bear under all that rugged exterior," he said as he held the door open for me to enter the fast food joint. "If he said something to upset you, believe me when I say he's probably beating himself up more about it than you could. He has a knack for putting his foot in his mouth......a lot," he smirked.

We ordered the food we needed for us all and headed back out to Diane to head back to the bunker. "I'll show you how to get to the garage when we get back," Sam said as he climbed into the passenger seat. I mused on if Dean had mentioned to Sam about parking Diane in the garage, but decided against broaching the subject.

~~~

Just as promised Sam had shown me the entrance to the garage. After parking Diane in front of the Impala, we walked back into the bunker, arms full of drinks and bags of food. "Here, let me get that for ya," Dean said as he grabbed two overstuffed bags from my arms.

"Dean, only one sandwich," Sam shouted as he walked through the doorway behind me.

"Come on," Dean sighed as he stopped rummaging through one of the bags. "I'm a warrior, I need to eat!"

"If you are still hungry after you have your burger and fries, I got an extra salad that you can have," Sam said as he started pulling out all of the food and setting them at each spot on the table.

"I said I need to eat, Sam, not nibble," Dean retorted making Sam roll his eyes.

"Jack!" Sam shouted and the young boy came into the room shortly after.

"So Jack, you seem too young to be a hunter already, what got you started into this life?" I asked as we all sat down for our meal.

"He was born into it," Dean answered for him, "And he's not too young. Hell, I was hunting in junior high."

"How old are you Jack?" I asked, looking back at the bubbly young man.

"Two," Jack smiled as he chewed the food in his mouth.

"Pardon me?" I asked, nearly choking on my food.

"I'm two," Jack repeated before taking another bite of his burger.

"Ok, am I hearing this right, you are only two?" I asked, looking around the table for someone to please explain.

"He's a nephilim," A rough voice from behind me answered.

"Jackie, this is Castiel. Castiel, this is Jackie. She's going to be staying with us for a few days," Sam introduced us as I turned to look at the man standing behind me in a trenchcoat. He had appeared from what seemed to be nowhere.

"Hi," Castiel nodded, his face showing no emotion, before continuing on to explain what exactly Jack was. "He's half human, half angel."

"My mom's name was Kelly and my dad's name was Lucifer," Jack added before grabbing the trash off of the table and heading down the hallway to take it to the kitchen.

"Lucifer," I paused, "Like Satan himself, Lucifer?" I asked, looking over at Sam, who I was sure could see the shock on my face.

"You know any other Lucifers?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow before popping a fry into his mouth.

"Not today, Satan," I replied, giving him a pointed look which earned a chuckle from Sam.

"Don't worry, Jackie. Jack is not anything like his father," Sam said as he cleaned up the trash from his lunch.

"I sure hope not," I mumbled before taking the last bite of my burger.

"You going to finish those?" Dean asked, pointing to my fries.

"Touch my food and I will shave your eyebrows off while you sleep," I nearly growled.

"Duly noted," Dean murmured before standing up from the table and heading down the hallway where Sam and Jack had went.

"It would be quite funny to see Dean without eyebrows," Castiel smiled before turning to follow Dean out of the room.

~~~

"Hey, can we talk?" Dean's voice shook me from my thoughts as I laid in bed staring at the ceiling.

"Depends, you plan on putting your foot in your mouth again?" I asked, scooting up in my bed to rest my back against the headboard. Dean smirked, knowing I had called him on his dickhead comment from earlier in the day. "Or were you wanting to put your head up your own ass and show off?" I added, making him lift an eyebrow with a slight frown before shaking his head. He leaned against the door-frame with his arms crossed over his chest, giving me a chance to keep on with my string of insults. "You know you missed your calling, being capable of doing both would've gotten you a nice contortionist gig in the circus." I smirked. Dean dropped his head, looking at the floor and shaking his head while a full blown smile blossomed on his face.

"Are you done now?" He asked, looking up from under those thick eyelashes, his eyes a vibrant shade of green.

"I don't know. Are you going to line up any more home runs for me?" I shrugged.

Dean smiled before shifting his hip against the door frame and pushing off of it to walk into the center of my room, "Calm down, Slugger," he chuckled. I watched him as he slowly shifted his weight from one foot to the other while looking at the floor, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier. I didn't mean for it to come out the way it did, Jackie," Dean said, taking a step closer to the foot of my bed.

"I know," I shrugged.

"So we're good?" Dean asked.

"We're good," I nodded.

"Ok, good, because I'm gonna need you having my back on this hunt we are about to go on," Dean said as he walked towards the door.

"And here I was thinking you wanted me to have your front," I chuckled.

Dean turned giving me a lopsided grin before turning back to walk back down the hall. "We're leaving in ten minutes," he shouted back at me.

~~~

"I'm riding with Jackie," Sam shouted as he climbed the stairs to the garage.

"What?" Dean nearly growled. "Why can't we all ride together?"

"I'm not riding three deep in that backseat," I countered.

"Hey, that backseat is spacious," Dean said with a quirk of his eyebrows, a boyish smirk gracing his face.

"I'm sure it's perfect for the kind of business you do back there," I smirked back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"She's got you there, Brother," Sam laughed.

"You're one to talk!" Dean replied quickly, giving Sam a death glare.

"Oh, yeah, no. Definitely not riding around in Winchester juices. That car will be have to be fully detailed before I ever set my ass in it," I grimaced.

"Hey, I take good care of Baby!" Dean said defensively.

"I'm sure you do," I smiled, closing the trunk of my car after Sam put his bag in it.

"Hey, can I ride with you?" Jack spoke up.

"Aww, Sweetheart. My playlists aren't exactly suitable for two year olds, but I'm sure Dean has The Wiggles soundtrack in his grocery getter for you," I cooed to him, patting his cheek with a smile before turning to head for the driver's side door of my car.

"Oh hell no! You're just going to sit there and let her disrespect Baby like that, Sammy?" Dean scoffed.

Sam ran his hand over his face trying to hide his smile as he stood at the passenger side door of Diane. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped his throat before saying, "Sorry Bro, but it looks like Baby has been put in the corner." Dean flipped him the bird as Sam slid into the front passenger seat of my car.

"Well, you boys have fun. Make sure you keep your windows up, I'd hate for you to choke on my dust," I smiled before climbing into the driver's seat and starting up Diane.

"Dean's probably on the verge of having a stroke right now," Sam laughed as I pulled out of the garage. "You know he came back from Hell, Heaven, Purgatory, and on the verge of death more times than I can count. Dean's a professional escape artist of death. But you may actually be the death of him," he chuckled, shaking his head and putting the location of the hunt into the GPS.

"Wait, what?" I asked, puzzled at the confession Sam had made.

"I mean Dean has never had anyone give him the same amount of shit he dishes out all the time. To be honest, it's refreshing........and entertaining," Sam laughed. "I've been dealing with it for years. It's nice to watch him squirm now that he's getting some of that back."

"No, what you said before that," I said as I turned onto the highway. "Has he.....has he really been to Hell and all that?" I breathed out, looking over to Sam who gave me a look that answered the question in itself. "Oh my God, Sam."

"I told you he's not had the easiest life. Neither of us have," he paused, running a hand over his face and then through his hair before he continued. "I mean a hunter's life isn't an easy one, but you know that," he shrugged. "We've both had our fair share of crazy shit in our lives......I mean I've been in Lucifer's Cage, Heaven, been possessed by Lucifer himself, spent some time soulless, and died too many times for a normal human being. But Dean, he's been through the ringer more than me. The books don't even cover it all."

"Books?" I asked as Dean sped past my dazed ass on the highway.

"Shit!" Sam cursed under his breath. "Yeah, please don't tell Dean I told you about those," he pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

"Our little secret," I smiled. "So start spilling it, Winchester. We've got a long drive to Dallas and I have a feeling this story is a long one."

#supernatural #dean winchester #Dean winchester x ofc #Little Ditty #My work #fanfiction

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oneflewovermyhouse · 6 years

Text

Snitches Get Stitches: An Ode to The Elf on the Shelf

You better watch out You better not cry Better not pout I’m telling you why Santa Claus is coming to town

That’s it. That is all parents have needed since 1934 when John Frederick Coots and Haven Gillespie wrote this endearing and menacing ditty to threaten children into the submissive state that is good behavior. It has been recorded more than 70,000 times since its inception, which speaks to the utter desperation of parents everywhere to get their kids to get their proverbial shit together for just one month. For the most part, it works, however fleeting the results are.

For some reason (most likely the desire to cash in on parents’ hopelessness at the holidays), in 2004, Carol Aebersold and her daughter Chanda Bell decided to write The Elf on the Shelf, a book that looks to be a classic Christmas tradition of yore, but is in fact a modern manifesto that cheerfully serves as a reminder to children young and old that Santa is essentially Big Brother that is reminiscent of the Patriot Act, or at least Facebook. The presence of an omniscient fat man that either delivers toys or coal to kids based on their behavior apparently was no longer enough. Now, he needs a sentinel to literally watch over children to ensure compliance. It was as if we asked kids to believe all these years, they began to doubt the monitoring referenced in Coots and Gillespie’s anthem, we placed a creepy elf doll on the mantle, and those same kids all of a sudden collectively gathered that shit just got real.

The elf watches over the children and reports back to Santa all of the wonderful behavior and deeds that the children have exhibited, right? Well, if he was honest in his reporting, I think Christmas morning would look a little different in most households. I want to honor the traditions of central Europe and host a miniature Krampus on my shelf. Krampus is paired with Saint Nicholas, but instead of rewarding children for good behavior (a seldom occurrence in my house), he punishes the children for ill-behavior in the forms of lashing with branches, eating them, or transporting them to the depths of hell – ya know, jolly stuff. Think about it – if you are good, you may get another video game, however if you are bad, a horned, anthropomorphic figure described as “half-goat, half-demon” with fangs will come for you in your sleep. Put that bastard on your bookshelf, and see how things go.

Ok, so now we have an elf and a book – not all bad. There are rules? Are you kidding? I have to move this damn thing every night to continue the magic, or is it to tell the kids that nowhere is safe? It says Elf on the Shelf; why can he not just sit in one place for the season…on the shelf? Every night, at approximately 11:00, my wife and I look at each other when we realize we have not moved them (yes, we have two), and we utter some four-letter word and argue over whose turn it is to relocate the spies. We used to get creative like everyone else and have them in cute scenarios like eating fruit, hanging from chandeliers, or taking marshmallow dumps, but over the years we have gotten to the point that if we move them to a different room, we deserve Parent of the Year. Hell, my kids have bought them clothes – if that’s not pouring salt on a gaping wound, I’m not sure what is. So, now we have incorporated wardrobe changes into the equation – awesome.

“Oooh look, Twinkles is wearing her sparkly scarf with boots and a snow hat.” “Cool! Jingles is wearing his skis and goggles. But where is his leather jacket?”

I also like coming home after work, and my kids ask me if I found them yet. It takes every ounce of me to not look at them and say, “They’re probably right where I put them last night, unless they truly are magical.” But, I don’t. I look around with my feigned look of curiosity and anticipation until I come upon them in the location where I left them. I make some comment about the mischief the little a-holes have gotten themselves into, and then continue with the afternoon. Magical, right?

The scenarios have gotten especially mundane as well. It’s no longer, “what are they doing today?” but more like, “where are they sitting now?” Besides, how can they keep a watchful eye if they are having a sack race with Iron Man and Barbie? They have work to do; this is no time for play.

At this point, I usually wrap up my blogs with some redeeming feel-good synopsis much like Doogie Howser, M.D. did after every episode as to how he pined over Wanda and chummed it up with Vinnie. Not this time. I hate the Elf on the Shelf. I hate what they stand for. I hate the labor involved in maintaining their “magic”. And, I hate that they “watch” my kids all the time – that’s my job. When we were kids, we were told to behave because Santa is watching. Now, he has a felt-clad army - that retail for $30 at Hallmark – that do his dirty work for him. If I were a kid, I wouldn’t want an elf. Those nosy little bastards have no business spying on me 24/7. Snitches get stitches. #Krampus2019

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a-justafemalewholovestowrite · 6 years

Text

Strange Experience

Fandom: Sonic the hedgehog Character: Nixon the jackal (FC), Infinite the jackal, Rating: T

A/N: A little ditty I've been working on for a while now. I meant to have this done for Halloween.

~~~~~~~~~~~

As long as I can remember, I loved to be home alone. I didn’t have to worry about annoying drama or my father pestering me. I can do what I want and not have a care. I can listen to my music or game without my earbuds plugged into my laptop. Though, I still tend to keep them in. Of course, I keep one earbud out. This is so I can hear when dad comes home or when someone comes into the house. I’ve never had to experience a home break-in or invasion. And I’m very happy about it. But, sometimes...I wish that day was a home break-in, instead of what actually happened. This was the day I started not wanting to be home alone.

I remember it being a cloudy day. My laptop was on the desk that I had in my room. My room was a decent size. A bed in the right upper corner, a small dresser on the same wall as my bed, and my desk were in the left upper corner. My room didn’t have a closet. So, my bedroom couldn’t be called a bedroom. But, I didn’t care. I didn’t have a lot of clothes anyways. So, I didn’t need a closet. My desk is set to were my back is to my bedroom door. I don’t know why I have it this way, but I do. I didn’t have my earbuds in and the door to my room opened. Turing my head, I see my dad at the door.

“I and the others are going to get groceries. Keep an ear out.”

I respond with ‘ok’ and he nods. He left my door cracked. Dad had some friends over and it seems they’ve decided to do some shopping. A few of his friends tend to crash at our place. So, they help once in a while. They probably went to get some food for themselves too. Which I didn’t care too much about. I don’t normally feel hungry, so I don’t tend to eat a lot. Though, dad might bring me something. He tries to make sure I eat at least a few times a day. We don’t like each other much. Could be because when we met each other I was fourteen at the time and well...I wasn’t the nicest kid either. Dad also didn’t know how to well, dad. He didn’t understand what being a father was. So, it was a rocky start. But, we’re on ok terms now.

It’s been about two hours since my dad and his friends left. I had one earbud in and was playing a game since I'm bored. The game I was playing didn’t matter, but I heard something. It wasn’t in the game and I paused it. I took the other earbud out and listened. I blinked and raised an eyebrow. I swear I heard a tapping like noise. But, I didn’t hear anything. I shrug and return to my game. Did it came from there without me realizing it? I kept the earbuds out, though. I didn’t want them in anymore. My ears were feeling sore anyways. They were popping all day yesterday. I want back to my game but kept the sound off. But, soon I had to the urge to use the bathroom.

Sighing, I push my chair back and stand. I stretch my stiff muscles. Waking passes the chair and the bedroom door, I head straight up the hall and to the left. I walking to the room and shiver. Great, it’s cold in here, want I don’t want. Going to the bathroom in a cold room. I know the toilet seat is going to be freezing. But, I suck it up. After finishing, flushing, and washing my hands, I head back to my room. But, I stop. My fur brittles and goosebumps littler my skin. I walked through a very cold spot in the hallway. Now, I know your thinking, ‘Well the window could be open.’ and at first, I thought so too. But, the only window near the hallway is in the bathroom and my room. And I’m standing at least in the middle of the hall. So, a cold spot shouldn’t be where it is. If a window was open, the area around the bathroom door or my room would be cold. But, they are not.

Blinking I look around. I don’t know why, but I had a feeling someone was watching me. But, the house was empty. Taking a breath, I shook the feeling off. I head to my room and sat on my chair. I didn’t un-pause my game though. I ...couldn’t. That feeling of being watched didn’t go away. I bit my bottom lip and tapped my fingers together. I didn’t know what to do. I finally decided to look around the house, in case of an intruder did get in. Taking a knife and a bat with me, I exited my room again. After looking around, I found no one. Sighing, I chalked it up to be my imagination. Returning to my room, I sigh and get back to my game. Now more at ease.

An hour had passed and I turned my game off. I was getting bored and I wasn’t interested in being on my computer now. Shutting my computer down, I lean back into my chair. Thinking for what I could do to keep myself busy, my phone rings. I jump in my seat and look at the object. I sigh and shook my head. Wow, I got scared by my own phone ringing. I pick it up and answer. It’s probably Dad or Mitch.

“Hello?”

I wait for an answer. But, I hear nothing. Strange? I say ‘hello’ again, but nothing. I’m starting to get annoyed. Who even had called me was trying to play a prank on me. And I wasn’t having any of it. I’m not in a mood to be toyed with. I growled and said in a rough tone of voice.

“Hey, if this is Mitch, listen. Don’t prank call me you asshole. You know I hate those. If this is my dad, what the hell are you thinking? This isn’t funny and it never will be. Don’t do it again.”

And with that, I hung up. I tossed my phone into my desk and leaned back into my chair. Now my mood is sour. It takes a while for my mood to light once it turns sour. And my dad could come home soon. But, I know when he gets home, he’ll have one grumpy child to deal with. I had nothing to do to help my mood. Great just great. Sighing I leave my room and go to the living room. Watching some TV would help, hopefully. Sitting on the couch, remote in hand, I flip through the channels. I stopped on a horror movie. Shrugging, I get the remote down and got comfortable. I like horror movies, so I’m sure once the movie is finished my mood should be a bit better. What movie was I watching, you may be asking? Saw 3.

I wake up and looked around tiredly. I don’t remember falling asleep. But, I have a blanket laid on me. I rubbed my eyes and yawn. I turn my head to my left and see my dad sitting. He’s reading a book. Don’t know what type of book, but then again I don’t tend to care. He must have noticed me staring, cause he lowers the book from his gaze. And slides his eyes at me.

“Had a nice nap? Found you snoozing when we got home.”

I nod. It’s strange. I don’t usually fall asleep during the day. So, the fact that I took a nap on the couch is...odd. Almost out of the ordinary for me. But, I guess I was tired enough and the movie put me to sleep. Moving the blanket off of me, I stretch. I’m still very tired, but dad made a noise. It was a whistle. The kind he did to get my attention. Looking at him, I title my head and gave a questioning look. My way of telling him to ask.

“Did you go into the basement?”

I shake my head. I didn’t know that the house had a basement. This is the first time I’ve heard about one. Dad raised a brow. He didn’t seem convinced with my answer. Of course, he wasn't convinced. When was he ever convinced with anything I say? I roll my eyes and open my mouth to speak. It’s dry and my voice is full of tiredness.

“I didn’t know there was a basement.”

Dad seemed to look at me for a moment. With a raised brow and tilted head, I knew he was thinking. Whether he believed me was up to him. But, I know I’m telling the truth. I had no idea about a basement. Dad sighed. Couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. But with just waking up, I didn’t care. I wanted to go back to sleep or to my room, so I can play on the computer again.

“I asked because the blanket your using belonged to your mother. I found you sleeping with it on you.”

Now, this is strange. Looking at the blanket I notice it has blue with purple hearts. I didn’t have a blanket like this. And either did my dad. I know dad has a few boxes of mom’s stuff he kept from when she had passed. But, I didn’t know where he had put them. Looking up I see my dad shrug and getting up from the couch,

“You sure you didn’t sleepwalk for something?”

I shake my head. I don’t sleepwalk at all. So, I don’t know how the basement door was open or why mom’s blanket was around me. But, I’ll tell dad what I experienced sometime later. I’m starting to fall back asleep again. Dad seemed to notice as he chuckles. Pulling the blanket back on me, Dad mumbles something I barely catch.

“Guess she’s still here, even after all these years.”

#fic; Strange Experience #infinite the jackal #sonic the hedgehog fc #sonic the hedgehog fancharacter #nixon the jackal; fc #long post

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