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blackstarchanx3new · 17 days

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FSR rambles 19 traumatic things Link experianced

Pet him like a cat shadow.

At least Link's normal enough to get up now.

Awkward...

Shadow's like "Damn this is weird"

Link's selectively mute still but I'd struggle to talk with four dipshits screaming like cracked out squirrels in my head too so ya know, I don't even blame him for being shitty at communication with Shadow rn.

He's got his priorities in order: FOOD.

Okay but you know Link is mad his plan failed literally the day after he employed it.

I'd be pissed anyway XDDDD

The four of em fell asleep, wake back up and they're right back to square one, ground zero the shit storm he tried to escape from.

That's horrifying in a way I can't quite articulate. "Hopelessness" is the only word coming to mind. Like, everything he did, it didn't matter. It was all for nothing they're BACK to how they were.

His hopes that pulling the sword would fix it: Crushed.

The literal only difference is that Shadow's here.

Which, is BETTER but damn if the disappointment from Link isn't palpable. You can only imagine what's going through his head rn after all this shit, he's just defaulting to a LITTLE BIT of normalcy in making breakfast.

Shadow's back to defaulting to doing: well nothing.

He isn't helping Link and is just WATCHING. Smth literally just yesterday was ALL HE COULD DO.

They're both just defaulting to what they're used to because this shit is too weird.

Is nice of Link to make enough for Shadow though. XD

Haha okay I can get into this:

Literally Shadow and Link simultaneously know each other and don't.

In cannon: Shadow said ONE SENTANCE TO THIS MAN. A SINGLE THING. AND IT WAS MOCKING HIM LMFAO.

Yes Shadow had interaction with the colors but Link and Shadow: Nothing.

So of course he feels awkward around him.

They spent forever together and yet still feel so far away.

It's a tough situation.

Link pulling out the "you sure are quiet" is imo, him trying to be funny.

he continues with "thought you'd be more comfortable with me...at least considering how many times we've kissed"

Obviously this is in reference to Vio lmfao (...Also green but uh we'll get into that later). With Link's eyes matching Vio's.

Link is completely fucking with him and it's funny to me at least. Like he's so deadpan but he's being such a goof rn.

Though it is interesting to note how Link directly says Vio is him without any separation here. Since Vio also thought he was Link last night.

WHY WOULDN'T HE REMEMBER SMOOCHING YA SHADOW???

Shadow clearly not knowing HOW Link works is kinda hilarious but also, nobody knows how this works.

Link casually referencing what Vio said in the fire temple, it's much more obvious now he's goofing with Shadow rn.

Shadow realizing the obvious, that Link IS the same person he's been hanging around just mashed together is a small but good reminder. Like link isn't a stranger fully. He's still the four of them.

Shadow just asking "Is this for me" would seem weird but uhh remember:

He didn't have a BED. He's been a SHADOW for YEARS. Like. Shadow being neglected isn't new. So it's a sad notion but he is shocked he'd be given food.

Link kinda having a "Wtf u mean? duh it's for you." moment.

Also the bomb drop that Link knows about Dark Link...Oops.

Exactly what relationship/how he KNOWS about Dark is kinda, left open since he doesn't elaborate what so ever...

It can be assumed he just knows what everyone else does. Buuut. There's always that "but"

"Link what are you blabbing for they can hear you" - Shadow continuing to not understand how Link works. XD

I don't think it was mentioned anywhere before this but haha Blue was also in on the splitting Link plan. Vio and Red are the only ones left out of some of the loop it seems...But they were mainly worried about Vio catching on.

Link accuratly noting this nightmare isn't anything like the first time. Sorry buddy it's cause you're in an unrated comic by a weirdo fan vs any official Zelda comic. XDDD Which wouldn't allow 90% of what's in this comic I'm sure haha.

Also reasonable train of thought thought Shadow buddy about reverting back into a shadow. What a terrifying thought.

Aw Link's being sweet and- TRIFORCE

Yeah Shadow's sweating bullets considering uh the little fact Ganon said "Here catch, you're evil triforce of power man now"

Takes Link a second to remember back on that convo Shadow and Vio had about the triforce in the flashbacks. PG 179-182 ish if you're curious on brushing up on that.

Oh hi Vio.

I don't think a lot of people caught that this was Vio's design from FS. Which is why Shadow was SO DISTURBED to see him like that. Link's very all over the place mentally and it's showing with his appearance. He's unstable as all hell right now.

Blue chiming in with "Wait a damn minute" remembering Zelda ALSO has the Triforce on her hand.

Vio and Red are being obtuse/ignorant while Blue and Green know smth's up and are getting pissy about it.

Which just makes Link: All over the damn spectrum of emotion about this right now haha.

I'd get tonal whiplash too Shadow.

Link going down the list of things he thought Shadow would want haha.

and Shadow's gay lil confession that all he really wants is Link is sweet.

I mean what else does he have to strive for? He gave up on a lot of his old dreams as pointless after becoming apart of the endless cycle of hatred.

It's noteworthy that Link's outfit glitches to black again.

The line "Which you" was a very fun one to come up with. Because it just, hits ya.

Link isn't one entity. He's multiple. And he literally can't tell who Shadow's talking to in that moment. Because the underlying assumption (To Link and this will become obvious) is that Shadow really only cares about Vio.

All of last night is probably a complete blur/emotional whiplash around Shadow For Link.

Shadow threw a sword at Blue and was VERY hostile, was ALL OVER THE PLACE emotionally with Green mostly being bitter as hell, didn't really acknowledge red and Vio had a complete meltdown over his guilt surrounding Shadow and their friendship and relationship as a whole was all over the place.

Cram that all back together and what is Link supposed to take away from all that. Overall dude had a net negative experience with Shadow and now he's telling him he wants him?

I'd be confused as hell too.

Hi Zelda.

Safe to say that was inevitable given how badly Link was bugging out this entire time.

He couldn't handle seeing Zelda haha.

I don't think people caught Vio is just in his "headspace" outfit. Except it isn't pastel color palette.

Panic attack, featuring Blue. He was the most vocally insistent they draw the sword, was activly trying to force his way out of Link's mish mash body during that whole ordeal. The main take away is that: He HATES being In Link and that was just about the worst nightmare come to life for him.

He doesn't even want Red to touch him, which considering the way it's all but stated Link's magical body is just their bodies pressed together into one form makes the angle that they're all LITERALLY touching each other that much more...ehhh disturbing.

It's okay guys he just needs a minute alone-

Hah. Everyone's leaving you Vio. Doesn't press on the ol anxieties or anything.

Doesn't make it easy for a certain someone to come visit you.

Vio's insecurities focusing around being ALONE and himself are smth that's been fun.

He mainly wants to be Link out of pure selfishness and self hatred. Link is an escape from his own accountability, a way for him to keep himself in check. While Blue finds it to be an outright prison.

Everything Dark is saying about here Vio could also be applied to himself and even Dark says that. He looks miserable while saying it too since Vio's problems are starting to hit a lot closer to home.

At least we got Shadow to yank Vio out of his funk. But Dark has no one to do that for him.

Shadow petting Vio's face here while in a headlock is just, funny to me. Shadow can't affection properly at all lmfao.

But hey he knows when our lil buddy is active. Oops.

Oh the fun they have together alright. 😏

It'll be a real wet and fun time-

What the hell Dark is talking about is left pretty open for now.

But he is getting sick of just sad reactions to what he says.

He's nervous when faced with women. Same bro.

Green and Shadow begging for help on wtf to do with their new squid monster is pretty hilarious to me.

Vio's being perceptive.

"IT IS!?" yeah red. And if you were an interesting character I'd write you doing things. :D

HAH. TRAUMA. DARK LINK RELATED TRAUMA.

Surely that won't bite us in the ass later or anything...

Vio's outfit is very covered up because he's emotionally closed off yada yads I've mentioned this before.

This hasn't been brought up in the comic but Green is afraid of tentacles lmfao so his fear at Dark rn is warranted.

Shadow blatantly not caring what Dark is doing rn because he's busy

Zelda notices right away that Dark defied vaati which must have been weird for her in real time hah.

Shadow's instant response to what to do with Dark is "Murder"

Nice to see you've grown so much shadow lmfao.

Notice how Link being around isn't even the thinly vailed excuse dude just doesn't like Dark Link lmfao. Most of what he said to Dark last night imo was pure projection and again: Not because he cared about Dark. But now he feels like they have an easy to to get rid of him via Zelda. Doesn't have to confront weird feelings if the guy is gone ooomf.

Zelda isn't outright apposed to getting rid of Dark Link but is like "Uhh...But what about link tho-"

Shadow noticed his hair change.

I'm sure he noticed earlier, it's right in his eye sight but background detail of him actually looking at it like "Wtf?"

Also fun pressure to put on Green when he's strung out to shit rn.

HI DARK LINK! :D

Uhhhhhh. Okay then.

So Green's got murder trauma.

He's also just sick of the responsibilities piling on him like a crushing weight.

There's smth to be said about how Dark isn't a murderer so, doesn't have blood around his feet haha visual metaphores haha.

So clarity: Link as a whole person murdered the people who killed his father. And Vio and Green were the ones who had main control in that moment.

Hope that clears some stuff up.

Dark finds this shit hilarious because he's sadistic but Green snaps out of the panic to realize THIS GUY IS DARK LINK.

The moment Green switches from his helpless attire into his current fit was very fun emotionally cause this was the first time someone had ANY amount of control when facing Dark Link. (Excluding Shadow I suppose, in terms of the colors anyway)

Green being a badass is just smth I enjoy and the "Oh shit moment" was very fun to watch people react to haha.

Dark was so excited when seeing Green acknowledge him.

It really goes to show all of his "Nyeh you're such a shitty person" talk is literally not even his own opinion when it comes to the four colors. He's literally just repeating their insecurities and nothing else. Those words have NO BITE to them because Dark doesn't even believe it.

He's so excited to see Green because Green's the ONLY PERSON Who's truly acknowledged him in the head space.

Dark being so overwhelmed with joy he vomits.

Dark really doesn't have a lot of emotional regulation emotionally or physically. Like. The idea here is he's just, so excited he literally physically cannot handle that shit haha. I made a shitpost about it once but it's kinda just, accurate. XD

Green's like "Wtf is wrong with you"

because this isn't ANYTHING he thought he'd be dealing with considering how Shadow was acting/talking about him lmfao.

He was expecting Shadow 2.0 and got...This guy.

Guy who apologizes when acting goofy as shit

Guy who is excited to see him overjoyed even...After utterly destroying him not 2 seconds ago.

Just. A silly. Goofy guy.

It is fun to have Dark switch IMEDIATELY to depressed as hell thinking about how he's been so alone.

I would really describe Dark's excitement here as pure mania. because at the root Dark is a depressed individual.

Dark gives no shits when faced with death.

No begging or pleading for his life just "idk do what you want to I don't care"

Which, Dark Link's lack of care for his own personal safety has been shown off before and will only be a continued trend.

At the end of the day it shows a clear lack of self respect or care for himself.

Dark doesn't value himself.

Green's mercy here is rooted in his own selfishness.

He doesn't WANT to kill Dark Link because he doesn't want to hurt people. Which him and Vio did.

Green is ALSO very exhausted. And what you get is two individuals who would typically be at each other's throats, who aren't interested in fighting each other because they're just so worn out. The drive just isn't there.

Which leads them to being able to actually talk to each other in a meaningful way. And I just find that interesting.

Under different circumstances, these two very well could have fought here. XD

#FSR rambles #four swords returns au #four swords returns #four swords adventures #four swords manga #four swords #loz fsr au #loz #dark link #green link #shadow link #red link #zelda #fsr

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theonethatyaks93 · 8 months

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HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY ANIMANIACS!!!!!

I just want to say how truly amazed I am with this show. There are very few words that can describe it. I put a few in the picture seen above, but this is barely anything compared to everything I've said. Animaniacs has changed my life in ways that many shows can only dream of. And I'm thrilled to be here today to celebrate its legacy.

I wasn't born in the 90's. I didn't grow up with this show like I know a ton of people did. I was exposed to it, mainly through the Hub Network ads for reruns, the once-in-a-while YouTube video reference, and even in fifth grade when my teacher showed us a clip of "Wakko's America" for our state capital test (which by the way I passed). I didn't acknowledge this show's presence, at least until 2020. That was a rough year, not only for me, but for everyone. Online school sucked. I couldn't see my friends. I was always crying myself to sleep and staying up late just watching videos to wash away my sadness and hurting. It was hell. I didn't have any comfort. At the absolute worst of times around October, I saw that one of my favorite channels posted a video on the trailer for the reboot of a show called Animaniacs. I was curious, mostly since I'd never heard about it before (well, I thought I hadn't). But the way the characters looked and the amount of people talking about it got me interested enough to click on the video. I listened to the reviewer's thoughts, not really understanding much, yet still being enticed to continue. I watched the actual trailer afterwards and...the rest is history.

I instantly fell in love. I watched the trailer on repeat before the reboot's release, laughing and singing along. I researched the show more and discovered a ton of voice actors I knew. I loved the characters, especially Yakko, I listened to the songs, I watched the interviews, and I talked about it constantly to my family and friends. While I didn't have Hulu, I still kept up with the reboot quite heavily. For Christmas, I got my first piece of merch, a T-shirt, and I got the first 25 episodes of the original show. I watched them on repeat with my sister and we both laughed, sang, and danced around whenever the show came on. After taking a fandom break, I got back into the show in 2021, which came with a new appreciation for Pinky and The Brain and fanfiction. Around this time, I was finally able to watch the reboot and entire original series since I got Hulu. My merchandise collection expanded, my knowledge of the show grew exponentially, and my desire to contribute to the fandom was intense. Not much has changed since then. Granted my merchandise collection is bigger, I can do impressions of a few characters, I met some of the voice actors, I joined the community on Tumblr, I actually wrote some fanfiction, and I've seen so many Animaniacs episodes now that it'll make your head spin. I'm so proud to be a super fan.

My appreciation and adoration for the Animaniacs franchise knows no bounds. It changed my life in amazing ways. And I can't believe its thirty years old today. I'm struggling to keep my emotions in right now, it's all so surreal. So, to all my followers I encourage you to give this show all your love today. It deserves it. Thank you Animaniacs. Thank you so much for everything you've done. You have made me a better individual and have fueled my love of animation for nearly three years. I hope you continue to inspire many more like me to laugh, be silly, and sing "Yakko's World" to pass a geography test. Animaniacs is the greatest show of all time, and I'll never stop saying that. (Ps. this isn't the last Animaniacs Anniversary related post I'm making! The next one will be long! And I'll also be showcasing my Animaniacs merch collection! Stay tuned!) Goodnight Everybody!!

#animaniacs #animaniacs 30th anniversary #this show is everything to me #i'm so happy it has lasted this long #pinky and the brain #I love this show so much #I hope y'all love it too!!

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itsnothingofinterest · 4 months

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I think that the LoV deserves to win in the Final War because if they win, they will be able to create a world for themselves. The Heroes never meant to deserve to win at all considering the fact that most of them are morally corrupted (like the HPSC) and they are more interesting when they lose all the time.

If Spinner were able to win against Shoji, that would prove that his point will be always right and he would be able to save Shigaraki. If Toya succeeded, it would be the punishment that Endeavor deserves for abandoning his eldest son. If Toga succeeded, she would be able to do anything she wants. If Tomura Shigaraki wins against Deku and destroys Deku along with the entire Hero Society, Tomura Shigaraki would be able to have peace with his friends.

If I may be allowed the opportunity to rant: I'm sure some will say this is crazy at this juncture of the story but honestly? I get where you're coming from. Or at least 90% of it.

I mean for starters, I sympathize with the League far more than the heroes (no surprise from a villain fan). I think they’ve earned the happy endings they want after how hard they’ve struggled against the towering odds they’ve faced, an area which I feel they far surpass the heroes. I want them to win, I want them to prove the strength of their bonds, all that fun stuff for them.

And just logically, if you look at the worlds both sides are trying to make…the villain's world kinda seems better? Because after all, isn’t the plan to just take the current world, tear it down, and rebuild it without a whole bunch of its glaring flaws? The easy world Toga wants where kids like her don’t fear for their lives. Where corrupt heroes like Endeavor and bigots like the CRC aren’t left to their crimes. In a warped way, they’re almost like young All Might.

Compare that to the status quo the heroes want back, the very one that brought us here, which I don’t see much reason to root for. I mean even if you say “but all the people who’ve died”; first off, I swear mha civilians frequently act like horror movie victims so I can only care so much for them. But if I did, they want back the very status quo that led to all that death in the first place so…it feels like it’ll just lead back here again. A return of the status quo? This chaos is part of the status quo by now, you sure you want it back?

(Granted this is all hampered a little bit by Shigaraki’s sudden decision to sink the country and really where did that come from? Did Tomura just say that to appear more inhuman? Did Hori make him say that to appear more threatening? Because that kind of interferes with a lot of the League’s goals y’know. Sure he doesn’t want to give the status quo loving heroes a chance to rebuild what he destroyed, but society still needs replacing as part of the plan. The PLF are still supposed to rebuild according to their desires. I may make a post about just this plot point soon.)

Not to mention that I totally get what you mean about the heroes not narratively earning a permanent win here. Not only have they as a whole not really developed and surpassed their old flaws, but just the fact that they’ve been doing their own war crimes in this arc (when you’re really supposed to stick to your morals and beat villains by the book against make-the-world-better-by-extreme-measures-type villains) really makes me think they just don't deserve the win because they kind of can’t be trusted going forward. I mean the final arc's supposed to show where everyone is ending up; how they'll be in the future. And the impression being left is that the heroes, even the kids to enough of an extent to worry, have shown the same corruption we know the HPSC for.

About the only thing I disagree with out on is that I don’t want Deku specifically to die. He can be, to put bluntly, a self-righteous moron about things he doesn't understand at times, and can be a bit of an AM clone a lot of the rest of the time; but I'd hardly wish his death for just that. Especially since it seems any hope for the heroes side not repeating their mistakes rests on him pulling his head out of his arse and getting a clue on how to be better than All Might. Not that I think that'll happen anytime soon, but that's why I keep insistently hoping for an MHA part 2.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Sorry I took so long with this. Mix of being busy with real life and being in a writing funk. Which is why this may not be my finest post either. Hope you understand.)

#ask & reply #bnha #shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #dabi #spinner #league of villains #lov #paranormal liberation front #PLF #midoriya izuku #all might #hero society #anti endeavor #hero public safety commission

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alovelyburn · 6 months

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Hello, I just wanted to say that I'm a leftist and even I think that

saying Berserk is misogynistic is stupid as hell. If

anything, it's the opposite. The easiest example

would have to be Caska. The story doesn't treat

her as incapable of taking care of herself or being

strong. It shows in great lengths how hard she has

worked to become a warrior, and how she tries

desperately to be respected in a male-dominated

field. Much like women in real-life who work in

male dominated fields. Considering that this story

came out in the late 80's and early 90's, it makes

sense to compare Caska to young women trying

to pursue a career at that time when women

(especially in Japan) had rigid expectations of

what they were expected to be. Then there's her

fight with Adon, and how she kicks his ass after he

poisoned her. He was a misogynistic character,

but he was portrayed as an idiot. The scene when

Griffith told her it was a woman's duty to lie with

men wasn't exactly portrayed in a positive light

either, and I'd argue that Judeau was annoyed by

it. She was clearly respected by the Hawks/

Falcons, with the exception of maybe Griffith. But

she's never portrayed as incapable. And when she

mentally regresses post-Eclipse, yes she loses her

agency, but I'd say it effectively portrays how the

trauma of the Eclipse effected her. A female

character can lose agency and be humiliated in a

story without it being misogynistic. The same way

the same can be done with a male character

without it being misandrist and emasculating.

I'm also a leftist and I don't care about your politics in the context of a media discussion.

I really don't even know what to say to this since it's once again responding to things I didn't say (that Berserk is misogynistic), while also making arguments that make me wince until my eyelids fuse.

Look, I don't think Miura or Berserk is particularly or notably misogynistic, particularly in the context of it being a 30+ year old Japanese story. The fact that you're lecturing me about this just proves you have no idea what you're talking about or what I think about anything because I'm always the one defending Berserk's rough edges because of cultural differences and time period differences.

That said, this doesn't mean it can't be criticized for, say, the way it overuses and eroticizes rape scenes, particularly from the mid-golden age through volumes in the early 20s. Even if I say I understand why it does that - namely that Young Animal is like a stroke book - I can still say it doesn't feel great. In a way the fact that Miura did want to do better than many mangaka in this area and strove to do so (and succeeded to some degree but not the degree to which I assume he wanted to) makes that kind of thing stand out more, at least to me. Because if I'm reading some hentai I expect to see that, but I don't necessarily expect to see it in a story that treats women and certain subjects with degree of gravitas.

The argument that people are saying women shouldn't suffer or fight is an egregious strawman because literally no one ever said that. What they are saying is that Casca's experiences, her abilities, her traumas, are as a generality, not treated with the same respect as the other characters' similar experiences, abilities or traumas are. I have no problem saying yes Casca is said to be extremely competent but that doesn't change the fact that one of her finest moments, defeating Adon, is portrayed as cute and funny instead of epic like Griffith or Guts's great moments are. It doesn't erase the difference between the way Guts' rape is portrayed and the way Casca's MANY SA experiences are portrayed. If you don't see that, that's you problem and there's not much I can do about it.

I wouldn't even be bothered that her mind collapsed if it were treated as tragic instead of kind of kooky and adorable. And before you say it is tragic, I'm not talking about Guts feeling upset about it, I'm talking about Casca herself being portrayed/depicted with gravitas instead of having her like trying to eat elves or follow butterflies around while making cute faces.

Frankly, I'm not even sure how much of this is really misogyny as such, because he didn't really treat Farnese (or Schierke) this way. He is on record as saying that he wrote Casca "not as a woman" but as "a character made up of a collection of (Miura's) own complexes and weaknesses,"so maybe he was just kicking himself around, I have no idea. I personally tend to think he just got better at writing women, but what do I know. (note: that is a link to a translation of a Miura interview snippet. You can find sourcing and explanations and often the original Japanese if you poke around that twitter).

We can criticize the things we love. I am a full on Berserk stan - I think it's a masterpiece, I think Miura was a gd genius, it's literally my favorite story, nevermind my favorite manga, but I'm still aware that it has flaws. As do all things.

#ask #anonymous #ariel talks about berserk

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thegreatobsesso · 11 days

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Hello my love! :D I keep seeing your spicy gay crime story on my dash and while taglists give me anxiety I am LIVING for it, so I thought I'd send you a random ask so you can gush about it some if you want. ^_^ Any fun facts? Was there a specific inspiration? Why script style? And anything else you'd like to share! 💕

AHHHHH!!!! Thank you for this, @pertinax--loculos!!! And let me begin by saying that I love your honesty. Everybody should engage with social media (and, situations permitting) life in general with the ways that give them the least amount of anxiety possible. I have my own particular tumblr-related anxieties as well as generalized social anxiety in just about every possible manifestation, so just to let you know, I feel you. 💙

That being said, THANK YOU FOR ASKING QUESTIONS! I logically know I can share this kind of thing without being asked, but without being asked, I pretty much won't. That's just how I'm built. 😊

Fun facts: Octavius was - originally - a drag persona of mine. As a cis woman who's always thought she looked incredible with facial hair, I invented a drag persona awhile back named Octavius Debonnaire. I fancied him a well-dressed British supervillain with a penchant for poisons and fancy suits. This was all well and good until one not-so-special day where he pole-vaulted into the realm of distinctly his own character that I could NEVER embody and had no choice but to write about instead. Things kinda spiraled from there, as they are wont to do. And now his last name became Sinclair, because Octavius Debonnaire is like.......... so exclusively a drag name it just doesn't translate outside that framework, lol.

Inspiration: The Insuppressible Callie Ray satisfied like, 90% of the narrative tropes that get me off. This WIP encompasses the remainder untouched upon. And, to be honest, I had to write a story without smut to convince myself I was ready to write a good story that comes with smut.

Why script? There's a couple reasons. Chief amongst them is that I knew I had two main characters (Milo and Octavius) and only one of them I was remotely interested from writing in the POV of (Milo).

To clarify, I love Octavius with my whole being. But there's something about writing from his POV that feels... uncomfortable? Counterproductive? It's hard to explain, but something very primal tells me that writing from inside his mind is the wrong way to go. And once I accepted that feeling, it was immediately clear to me that many, many things crucial to the plot of this WIP happen when Milo is not present.

I think at this point, I reached a critical crossroads where I realized I would either need to completely reimagine this WIP, or write it differently. And I thought of my bestie @i-think-im-so-so-but-cosplay, who is currently writing a WIP in script format, and the way forward was extremely simple.

[[ A clarification: I'm not saying scriptwriting is in any way "easier" than prose; it's a totally different animal for a totally different purpose. It turns out, this story is best represented as TV show, and maybe, just maybe, Callie might've been too, if I'd have been capable of conceiving such a notion at the time. The world will never know.]]

If I had any doubts in the beginning, they rapidly dissolved when I realized how ***freeing*** script format is. There's totally a trade-off - I think it's a lot harder to capture a character's deep internality or set a strong mood - but it lets me say, quite easily and simply, what happens. Not worrying about head-hopping is allowing me to actually tell this story the way it wants to be told.

One more consideration worth noting - my absolute favorite thing to write, and the thing that comes the easiest to me, is dialogue. Scripts are huuuuuuuuuge made of dialogue, so. Once I decided to try, it felt extremely organic, considering my writing strengths and preferences.

anything else I'd like to share: Aster Craine. My antagonist, to the degree to which she serves that role, although she might be more accurately called my foil. When I first started writing her lines she was totally one-dimensional and I had an idea of what role she would serve in the narrative and wrote lines that worked technically well enough, but my god. I've really been getting a grip on what she's about over the past few days and this is it:

What if the leader of an organized crime ring ran their business like a cult? What if, inspiring loyalty through fear, they used love? Or, a perversion of love - artificially produced positive feelings. What if people were loyal to her because they felt understood by her, seen, appreciated, taken care of?

It makes her a perfect foil for Octavius, who is a narcissist, unable to imagine what it would be like to be in someone else's shoes. Aster is an actual empath who can understand other people's emotions - she just uses that understanding to manipulate them into loving her and, in turn, doing absolutely anything she says.

This spark turned her into a character I rapidly became obsessed with developing, instead of just a cardboard cutout for my mains to bash up against, and that's a very, very happy feeling. :) :) :)

Thank you again for this ask, dear friend @pertinax--loculos! It provided me a way to put into words a lot of things that have rattling about in the old noggin 🥰

Ahh hell, I'll add my tag list... hopefully y'all aren't tired of me yet!

tag list: @winterandwords // @revenantlore // @space-writes // @indecentpause // comment to be added or removed!

#new WIP #WIP: spicy gay crime story #oc: octavius #oc: milo #asks #writeblr

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kani-karumba · 1 year

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HELLO I'd like to see some relationship headcanons with hanma, both sfw and nsfw, im gonna be so happy if you do this so please im begging LMAOO love u!!<3

😭 not me writing this in public and checking around me to make sure no one was looking 👀

Anyways MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ if your only here for the SFW that’s alright.

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HANMA SHUJI

SFW

• he loves taking you on dates

-but most of the places he takes you out at would be to his place or just dinner at a ramen shop.

•he loves cuddling, he’s tall so he will 90% of the time be a big spoon, he does appreciate when your big spoon to because You play with his hair.

•when this man doesn’t put all of his gel and effort on his hair and let’s it down he lets you play with it all the time and he finds it relaxing

•he loves it when you kiss his nose and say you love him

•and idc if it’s just me but he will give you a foot massage when you guys are watching tv or just chilling on the couch

•he always wants you to ask him to do cute couple things, he loves it when you make videos and show it to your friends

•he usually comes to your school to pick you up (if you don’t go to the same school) but if you do go to the same school then he’ll walk you home

•he’ll buy you snacks and food on a daily to make sure your well fed and not starved

•he does try to make homemade Bentou boxes for you but he burns the food sometimes so he just buys food

•I also feel like you’d have to tutor him, even if your not as smart he is most likely gonna say he’s stupider than you and make you tutor him.

• he also loves it when you trace over his tattoos on his hands, he finds it calming and cute.

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NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️

•this man is kinky and is willing to try literally anything, anal, sure loves to fill up another hole, bondage, great idea wants to see you at his mercy, different positions, doesn’t care as long as he gets that pussy.

•he definitely has a praise and dacryphilla kink, he would say stuff like

“Aww sweetheart don’t cry gimme just one more”

“Shh it’s ok, stop whinin I’m almost there hold still baby”

• this man at least has a 5-incher at most probably 8-incher (we call for big dick men😏)

• his cock is probably more longer and veiny he does have a good width but his length is definitely bigger.

• although hanma likes trying out new things his favorite position would be a mating press, he gets to you deepest parts from there (🫣)

• he has a addiction to eating you out, don’t get me wrong he loves your pussy milking his cock but he loves the delicious taste of your pussy to so don’t let him miss out on it.

• he does have a safety word, two , it’s the meaning of the last part of his name (ji)

•mf kinky as shit, but he does not force it on you, he always looks up at you before continuing

• he is and isn’t a fan of aftercare 2 reasons

1. He likes it cause he can have a bath with you and relax

2. He doesn’t like it cause he just wants to sleep with you

- but he does do it in the end, knowing you’ll feel sore in the morning and the feeling of being clean helps you a lot.

____________________________________________

Sorry if this was short I was rushing it for some reason (bad I know) but I hope you liked it

@jisvno , I hope you liked it 🤭

#anime and manga #anime #fanfic #fluff #tokyo revengers #request #smut #minors dni #hanma shuuji smut #hanma hcs #hanma shuuji x you #hanma shuuji x reader

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s0urfangs · 2 months

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I try so hard not to do this but i gotta rant. Regarding the last reblog, I do NOT think the lack of comments and such is 100% peoples fault. I honestly think a significant part of it is how app and website design combines with content culture.

I want, and need, an inbox that shows me original works people have posted so that I can rummage through it at my own pace and know I'm not missing anything I love. Deviantart was great for this. Sit down on an evening, go through stuff at your own pace, say hi!

Don't even get me started on how you can't save stuff easily on most sites to look back on let alone navigate your own profile easily. Pretty basic thing?? I can't even begin to count the amount of times I find an artist here, go to their blog and its like ah! Their art tag does not work, or they do not have a tag. There is no other website with a gallery of theirs? Scrolling through their blog is 90% reblogs? I have to give up. Again, it's NOT THEIR FAULT. This is not tumblr exclusive.

On all the popular apps and websites now, there's an endless and constantly expanding dashboard of reblogs and memes and maybe if you're lucky you might see some art or something you followed someone for. How are you supposed to keep up if you follow more than ten people?

"But you can turn notifications on!"

I have tried. I am not getting notified for every reblog, every post, at every time of day. It's such an intrusion, and I was missing important stuff irl from the sheer amount.

This is not the fault of people reblogging stuff! It's fun, and I love discovering new art! I also like a good meme ofc. It's the utter lack of organisation. Just a seperate (optional) tab is all it would take for a lot of sites to improve by a solid 50%

DO NOT TALK TO ME ABT TUMBLRS TABS THOSE THINGS DO NOT WORK . THEY ARE AN AFFRONT TO ANY GOD. ok thanks ily <3

Bluesky is doing well with this so far, with the option to disable seeing shares and comments in your dashboard at least. (As well as muting blogs if one of ur beloved mutuals becomes absolutely obsessed with idk, minecraft youtubers. WE ALL HAVE OUR LIMITS...)

It really just seems like a huge oversight in basic accessibility that's become normalised. I don't really scroll tumblr anymore- I can't manage. I miss a lot, and the stuff I don't- well, I've probably also been sucked into the content cycle trap and just TRYING to keep up. This means I don't really want to post much either.

"That's just how it's always been on tumblr" That's okay! I'm not saying people can't enjoy it that way. It's the fact every single popular app is doing it the same. It's HORRIBLE.

Hopefully that makes me feel better . Whew. Ofc I'm busy recently anyway, which is why I haven't dedicated time to trying to use new sites - I'd love to set up toyhouse properly but that's a huge undertaking, and have got a bsky sitting around. Waiting. It's hard to start new habits even if its just opening an app atm, but I'll post when I do so.

ALSO. ANOTHER OVERSIGHT:

SCROLLING = HAND HURT >:(

#i normally have so much self control here and just. shut up and ignore stuff #but at this point #i deserve to be unhinged about website and app design because what the FUCK IS THAT #how bad does every site have to be for discord to be a better social media #hOOIUHHH #rant for self care. it has been building for MONTHS. YEARS

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 months

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All right, I did a post yesterday about the Cowgate incident of 2003, which started because I read the disappointing news that the site of the incident will be closed to the public when I'm in Edinburgh this summer, and I literally read it during a brief period of being awake in the middle of a fever dream. And then of course I made a post about it, because if you wake up in the middle of a fever dream, you always have to post about the real-life incident that most resembles the content of an actual fever dream.

This made me realize it's been a little while since I've actually watched that video, I went through a year or so of re-watching it at least once a week (mainly because it became a go-to re-watch when drunk, particularly near the end of the night when I no longer wanted to focus on anything coherent or longer than a few minutes, personally I'd never want to be at a comedy show while drunk but I do see why they'd do this for a drunk crowd, it appeals to that side of the brain), but I hadn't seen it in six months or so. I thought, I've probably been building this up in my head a bit in the six months of not actually watching it. The idea of Cowgate as a weird drunken fever dream (though one enjoyable thing about it is that besides Adam Hills and the entire audience I'm pretty sure the people involved were sober, as that was sort of the Chocolate Milk Gang's thing, getting their name specifically because they were the only people who didn't get drunk at late-night Edinburgh shows, instead they went for milkshakes across the road) had become a running joke in my mind and sometimes my Tumblr references, but at this point it's more of a symbol than anything else. After writing that post that ran with the joke of it being an iconic violent ritual, I thought it would be fun to spend some of my sick day at home re-watching the actual video, expecting to find that it just looks like relatively expected raucous comedy show shenanigans, not quite as mind-breakingly weird as I remember.

...Guys, it's exactly as I remembered. It's so weird. I've made multiple deep dive Cowgate posts before, but not for at least six months (I think the last time I did it one was for the 20th anniversary, August 26 last year, so almost exactly six months, actually), and I think six months should be long enough to make me allowed to repeat myself on the subject. Because there's almost nothing I haven't said before, but watching it again made me want to say it all again. And I do mean almost - I think I did discover one new detail while watching it between fever dreams yesterday. It's pretty good.

Okay, first of all, here's the video in all its glory:

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I cannot emphasize enough how much the first time I came across this it was 2 AM and I had no context for understanding where they were or what was going on. Since then, I have figured out: it's a show called Late 'n' Live. It takes place on many nights throughout the Edinburgh Festival, at a venue called the Gilded Balloon. The Gilded Balloon is owned by Karen Koren. It burned down in 2002 and was rebuilt nearby, this video is from 2003, in the rebuilt venue on Teviot Place. The Late 'n' Live event runs from around 11:30 PM to around 3:30 AM and consists of a bunch of comedians who come on, sometimes to do their own sets and sometimes to do shit like this, managed by a compere, and after that they bring out a band and it turns into a dance floor. At this time, it was known for being a bearpit with a drunk and rough crowd that sometimes got violent. For several years in the late '90s and early '00s, it was famous compered by Johnny Vegas. It was then compered, throughout the early- and mid-00s, by Daniel Kitson. I mean I think there was some crossover, obviously they didn't just have one compere for an entire month and people besides those two guys did it too, some people had to get some sleep at some point. Anyway, these are all things that I know as a direct result of the rabbit hole I went down after finding this video and needing to understand what the ever loving fuck was going on in it. I actually know a lot more than that about Late 'n' Live, but there isn't time for it all right now. I've watched a four-part BBC Scotland documentary series about the history of Late 'n' Live. I watched a Tim Minchin documentary mainly because I like Tim Minchin but a little bit because it had a lot of the Gilded Balloon in it and that was relevant to my Late 'n' Live research. I have an entire folder on my hard drive called Late 'n' Live and it has too many files in it.

One of them's a gif of David O'Doherty throwing his entire body with abandon onto different things at Late 'n' Live in different years: onto Jason Byrne in 2003, onto the floor in 2005, and onto Daniel Kitson in 2007. All clips I found in entirely different sources and decided they needed to be together.

Anyway. I'm getting off topic. Already. Cowgate. The point is Cowgate. I named the incident Cowgate because that's the name of the neighbourhood where the original Gilded Balloon was, and, you know, it was a cow. A cow and what looked like it had to be some sort of scandal. I think it's very clever.

So here's the thing. After I first found that video, which seemed like a tiny relic of one of many moments of one of many nights on one of many years that this stuff went on, and I set about obsessively looking things up for weeks to try to figure out what they were doing, in the process I came across a second video that also happened to capture the same moment. Amazing stuff.

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The former video was on the Gilded Balloon's YouTube channel, and seemed to have been filmed officially by the venue staff. This latter one was a montage of videos taken throughout the night by an audience member who apparently had whatever people used to film things at gigs in 2003. Wouldn't have been a camera phone back then.

This video shed a bit of light on some of the essential mysteries of Cowgate, but didn't actually answer many, and to be honest it asked more questions than it answered. Obviously, one of the main questions I had about Cowgate was "Where did the cow come from?" I'd wondered whether the Chocolate Milk Gang had somehow procured it, or whether they took something that was already there. Both options would open up a lot more questions, such as where did they get it, and if it wasn't there because they specifically put it there for the purposes of taking it apart, how did they get permission to take it apart?

The longer video suggests that it's the latter. It shows Daniel Kitson earlier in the night, messing around with the cow the way he might if its presence on stage were a surprise to him as well as to the audience.

The other essential question is "Why did they attack it?", and this earlier scene may suggest a possible reason. From the dialogue, it seems that Kitson jumped on top of it because the crowd told him to, and then the crowd keeps shouting other cow-based challenges at him, and he makes fun of them for suggesting challenges that are too easy (jump off it, touch it, etc.). The video then cuts, but it is possible that he challenged the crowd to ask him to do something difficult with it, and they said to tear it apart, and then it escalated. That scene seems to be from the beginning of the night, and we know the actual Cowgate ritual was the last thing that happened in the night, because right after they finish Kitson brings the band out and that occurs after the comedy ends. So it's possible that they could have come up with the challenge at the beginning, spent a few hours sourcing various weapons, and then done this at the end.

That theory of course brings up other questions, like how they decided on the weaponry. And, again, why they were allowed to do that. The answer to that question depends on where the cow came from, which I still don't know. I once spent a week looking up the International Cow Parade because I thought maybe it was part of that, but I don't think so anymore. It has the word Metro on the side of it, and someone in the YouTube comments called it the Metro cow. So it was probably an advertisement, not an art piece. But I wouldn't have thought your allowed to take apart a company's advertising installation. Maybe it was going to be destroyed after the festival anyway? Also, why was there a cow-based Metro advertisement on the floor at a comedy gig anyway?

I'd like to go through the video in further detail, as I've done many times before, but not for six months so I think I'm allowed a new one, and also I've come up with one (1) new fact (theory) so that's worth doing the whole thing again. I've just spent two days sick in bed, please allow me to indulge in this.

- Right at the beginning, the "three chances" thing still confuses me. That line really suggests that this is a challenge, not just a weird stunt, that they are being tested to see if they can do it. Possibly tested by an audience that was told to come up with a more difficult idea for something the comedians could try with a cow.

But what are the paramatres of the challenge? To take the cow apart, sure, but the "three chances" line implies more specific restrictions. Did they try this two other times earlier in the night and weren't able to do it? Perhaps tried it earlier with fewer weapons? Or did "three chances" mean three people are allowed to work on it? Doesn't seem likely, as Kitson jumped in fairly quickly and made it four.

- Adam Hills sounds like he's referencing something with "literally bottle it". I know "bottle it" is a expression that means "fuck it up", but I don't see how that's literal in this case. Was there a bottle involved? What would bottling it mean in this instance? Failing the audience's challenge? I don't even know for sure that it was an audience challenge, that's just a guess based on the beginning. It could be something else entirely.

- The part where John Oliver, Demetri Martin, and David O'Doherty scurry across the stage like squirrels makes me laugh every time. Why are they all bent over? What are they hiding from?

- David O'Doherty appears to be the only person who came out carrying a weapon. In the first shot of the guys attacking the cow, DO'D is hitting it with a hammer that he presumably brought from backstage. The other two are pulling on it with their bare hands. Then, in a detail I find hilarious, Demetri Marin reaches behind him and grabs what appears to be a chisel off the floor. I guess what probably happened is he did bring that with him from backstage, then put it down, and we just see him pick it back up. But the editing makes it look like he's tried pulling the horns, it didn't work, so he turned around and grabbed the nearest tool, like a character in a video game that just finds useful weapons lying around.

- It also makes me laugh that Adam Hills used his rap-based narration to make sexual jokes about the cow, while Kitson puts his hand over his mouth/in the air like a rapper, to show he's totally on board with this gangsta rap thing, but also, they have shit to and it's (presumably) nearly 4 AM, so the actual content of his lyrics is going to be to give useful practical advice on how to get this job done. Because they're not combining the tools, and you really need to use the chisel and hammer together or it'll never work.

I enjoy the way at this point, John Oliver takes just the briefest break from attacking a facsimile cow with his bare hands to look up Kitson, looking quite impressed with his approach to the situation. "Yes, thank you Daniel, finally some helpful ideas instead of just cowfucking jokes, now let's get that chisel over here."

- It can be hard to see in the darkness, but this whole thing is basically a Kitson and Oliver-oriented plan. Kitson shouts at DO'D to "combine the chisel and the hammer". John Oliver then points like he's directing a play, getting DO'D to bring his hammer to the other side.

DO'D does this, but puts the hammer down on the ground over there, instead of combining it with anything. That's when Kitson taps DO'D on the back like a pretend wrestler tagging in, possibly deciding that if he stays on the sidelines rapping all night, they'll never get this done and be allowed to leave. So he pushes DO'D out of the way, and takes his spot next to John Oliver. Then he reaches down and grabs a random chisel off the ground, again like a video game character. Then he reaches over the cow and picks up the hammer that DO'D has discarded (like a video game character), so he is now combining the chisel and the hammer. At the same time, John Oliver has physically taken the first chisel out of Demitri Martin's hand, and starts working on the same end as Kitson. Now they're getting somewhere.

- This is one of those videos that's funny every time if you keep running it back to watch the same eight seconds over but this time focus on a different person. DO'D tries to get in after Kitson straight-up stole his spot, leans in but can't find an opening, gives up and walks all the way around them both to try the other end of the cow because clearly the Kitson and Oliver dream team have this end sewn up.

- Then, there's a curveball: someone with the word CREW on the back of their shirt comes out of absolutely nowhere, and hands John Oliver a lead pipe, like a character fucking Clue(do, depending where you live). Where did this come from? Do most stages have large bits of piping lying around backstage? Was John Oliver supposed to bring it on stage with him but forgot it so they had to run it out to him? Or did those crew people decide that they're not making enough progress, someone had better find a large pipe and bring it on stage and hand it to John Oliver so we can all go home.

I've been writing this post so far while watching the official video - the one off the Gilded Balloon YouTube channel - but I think you get a much better view of this specific part from the way it was captured in the montage by an audience member. It's another part that I find incredibly funny. John Oliver is methodically working away with Demitri Martin's chisel and his own hands. Then someone hands him a large weapon, and he immediately raises it above his head like a sword and starts whacking the thing full tilt. Scares the shit out of Kitson on one side of him and DO'D on the other. They both jump, Demitri Martin just cautiously circles away.

In the words of a John Oliver bit that is long outdated but lives on in our hearts and my DVD collection... whaky stick. Whacky stick!!!

Kitson, after initially jumping, responds by choosing to imitate John's style, and starts raising the hammer over his own head to attack it with full force in the same way. While DO'D literally cowers in the corner:

And Demitri Martin continues to do what he's been doing since John took his tool away, which is to run his hands over the body of a cow like a mechanic sizing up a car. He has contributed almost nothing to this operation. I don't even think Demetri Martin knows how to take cows apart. Too busy turning letters into numbers and stuff.

- After getting over the initial excitement of waving a pipe around wildly, John Oliver employs the more thought-out strategy of using it like a lever, trying to prise it open at the seam. Kitson gets in beside him and starts attacking this same seam, striking the weak spot repeatedly with the hammer. In the background, DO'D and Demetri Martin appear to try jumping on the thing.

This is the strategy they're still employing the moment the cow finally comes apart:

I've observed this from multiple angles, and at first I thought Kitson deserved the most credit for breaking it, but now I think it was mainly John Oliver's work. Definitely a team effort though (or at least a dual effort, not sure how much the other two helped, though to be fair the bigger boys took their tools away). It comes apart at the exact spot where Kitson was hitting it with the hammer, you can see Kitson give it a hard kick, then one more strike, then put his arms up in celebration as this strike breaks it in half. But I'm pretty sure it was John's leverage from behind him that allowed him to split the thing.

- At this point they all contribute to pulling it the rest of the way apart; Kitson and Martin hold the top half while Oliver and DO'D take out the bottom. This is another part I find very funny - the way they're so matter-of-fact about handing it out to the audience. Look at John Oliver and David O'Doherty marching this across the stage like they're workers delivering a coach or something:

- Then the camera shows the cow being crowd surfed. The YouTube comments say: "The Metro cow got smashed in two and crowd surfed over everyone out the back door". In his lyrics, Adam Hills talks about taking it up the Royal Mile. The Royal Mile is the street outside, so all this suggests that they continued to take the cow outside and down the street. Was that part of the challenge? Was the initial plan to take the thing apart and then have it carried through the streets of Edinburgh? How far did this cow go?

- I have so far compared them to video game characters, board game characters, tag-team pretend wrestlers, a mechanic, and delivery workers. But my favourite thing to compare them to is probably at the end, when they celebrate like football players who've just won a big match.

"Great work everyone, good hustle out there, really pulled together as a team. Okay, now hit the showers. I want to see you all dressed and ready for milkshakes in ten minutes flat."

- There is so much going on in this video that I find it easier to not try to focus on it all at once, I have to do one thing and then backtrack. So now that I've gone through the whole video while looking at what the rest of them were doing, I need to backtrack and go over the lyrics to Adam Hills' song.

Question: Did Adam Hills think he was going to have to do this alone, or was he supposed to have Kitson co-MC-ing, but then Kitson jumped in partway through? Because I think the latter may have happened. Kitson was the compere for the whole night, as we see in the montage video.

Adam Hills If you had three chances Would you take them? Or would you quite literally bottle it?

As I said before: don't know what he's talking about there. What got literally bottled? Why three chances?

His palms are sweaty, his hair is sweaty He's ready to shoot spaghetti He's got a cow on stage It's got red horns, it's all the rage

This is veering wildly off topic, but I just want to mention that that Adam Hills got his off the cuff "stage/all the rage" rhyme because he'd heard DO'D use it in a freestyle rap battle with Daniel Kitson, that we know from the montage took place earlier than night (another one of my favourite videos, but we don't have time to go into this one right now):

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It's cow tipping, it's not quite shitty Get that cow down in this city Take it up the Royal Mile, attack it with a hammer Kitson's on the stage, he's [?] with a hammer

Again, how far did the cow go? They had clearly planned from the beginning (of this song, at least) to have it out on the Royal Mile. YouTube comments confirm it left the building.

David O'Doherty's going up the ass It's time to fuck this motherfucking class Fuck the udder (x4) Let's get this udder fucking cow out of here

After all the times I've watched this video, this is the first time I've noticed that Adam Hills tried a pun on "mother fucking" there. Glad he's having a good time.

Daniel Kitson Davey, Davey, what you need to do Is combine the chisel and the hammer

Finally, some useful fucking advice.

Adam Hills There's Martin, Demitri Martin The Perrier win has left me smartin'

This was August 26, Hills' song mentions later that it's the last night of Late 'n' Live for that year, so the Perrier Awards had just been given out. In 2003, Demetri Martin won the main award over other nominees: Reginald D. Hunter, Flight of the Conchords, Howard Read and Little Howard, and Adam Hills. Adam Hills, who had also been nominated the previous year, when he lost to Daniel Kitson, and the year before that, when he lost to Garth Marenghi. So he is actually being, as a YouTube comment said, a pretty good sport to jump in and have fun about it. If I were him I'd probably resent losing out an award again and then not even getting to smash shit up.

John Oliver, he's the man If that pipe won't do it, nothing can David O'Doherty, he comes from Ireland, the land of the green Daniel Kitson, he's got a hammer He's also got one motherfucking stammer

I quite enjoy the way no one responds to any of this. Adam Hills starts calling them out by name, including bringing up Kitson's stutter and DO'D nationality and his awards rivalry with Demetri Martin, and none of them even briefly looks at him. They are all very busy and focused on the important task of destroying a cow.

It's time to break this cow down It's time to break this cow down It's not time to chow down It's time to break this cow down

I want this verse embroidered on a throw pillow. Actually, I think I want these entire lyrics printed out and framed on my wall.

Late 'n' Live, Late 'n' Live, it's the very last night It's time to wrap this show up tight Send it out the front, send it out the... [cow breaks apart] Break the cow, break it in half Lead it out the front to the path

Once again, talk of parading this thing around outside the venue. Where were they taking it?

Karen Koren, she's outside She's got petrol dripping down her eyes There was a fire at the Gilded Balloon The police found no one else was to blame If this season doesn't go well This fucking venue's going up in flames

That, of course, is a reference to the Gilded Balloon's history. It burned down in a fire in December 2002. It's now August 2003, and they're in a new venue that was rebuilt nearby. Karen Koren is the venue's owner. I'm pretty sure Adam Hills is implying that she's going to burn down the new venue if the performers don't do well enough. Actually, he's not implying that, he's outright stating it. What he's implying is that she burned down the first venue, presumably for the insurance money, and she is currently outside ready to burn this one down too, if they perform badly enough to make the insurance money worth more than the shows bring in.

The cow's in half, the cow's in half Let's hear it for the cow in half!

This is like that famous poem that was allegedly written by a child about a tiger breaking out of its cage. Sheer poetry.

Tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I Got out of bed at all The morning sun goes up my window And I can't see at all And even if I could, it'd all be grey But your picture on my wall It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad

What's interesting about this is that these are the lyrics to Stan, which is a different Eminem song from the one he was (sort of) singing at the beginning, which was lose yourself. This may or may not be related to the fact that Adam Hills is the only person in this performance who was not a member of the Chocolate Milk Gang, which was a group of comedians known for not getting drunk during or after late-night Edinburgh shows.

It may also be related to the fact that this is a clip of the Edinburgh show that Adam Hills had just spent a month performing:

So he had Stan in his head all month anyway, he was on stage and remembered he was supposed to be singing an Eminem song, his brain told him that the Eminem song he sings on stage is Stan. Fair enough.

Though it's worth noting that those aren't the correct lyrics to Stan either. The Eninem song says the clouds come up the window, not the sun. Why would it be all grey and hard to see if the sun came up the window?

Crowd surf the cow, people.

I want all those lyrics printed out in fancy calligraphy font. And ornately framed. And on my wall.

So that's Cowgate, in case anyone wants to know. But this is just stuff I've said before. I said I had a new detail, didn't I? Well here it is:

Who is that man, sat unobtrusively in the background, playing the percussion set? Of course we have no way of knowing, in such low quality video without any clear shots of his face. Or do we? Because here is a screenshot of Flight of the Conchords, sitting on that very cow, earlier in the same night! (We know it was the same night because it was taken from the montage of the whole night, which ended with a second angle on Cowgate.)

Am I wrong? I might be wrong, tell me if you think I'm wrong. But I think that's Jermaine Clement playing percussion back there. Based on the evidence that: He was there that night. He does play the drums. He's a bona fide member of the Chocolate Milk Gang. And he has the same vague outline and shirt colour as the guy in those screenshots. And he was in the background of the Kitson/DO'D battle rap video, playing guitar, so he does sometime play music to accompany other comedians doing weird shit at Late 'n' Live. My new detail is I think Jermaine Clement was on the stage during Cowgate.

It is cool, really. I mean, I'm obviously being vaguely ironic by treating this late-night comedy show stunt as a vitally important mysterious ritual. But I genuinely think that what happened there is fucking cool, if you look at all those people being on one stage doing something so stupid together, and then consider where they all went after that.

And if Jermaine Clement was there, that just adds to it. The variety and international breadth of all the different comedy careers all in one place just as they were on the cusp of taking off. I mean, by plenty of definitions some had taken off already, but they have all taken off significantly more since then. Almost as though on one night in 2003, they all sacrificed a cow to the gods of success and it worked. Of the main five people involved in the sacrifice rituals, there are three Perrier Awards (Kitson, DO'D, Demetri Martin - though to be fair two of those were won before Cowgate happened so I guess we can't attribute it to the sacrifice), an MBE (Hills), and a shitload of Emmys (Oliver). Which I think they should all bring in for the prize task of the Taskmaster episode that I imagine with those five as the contestants (it's okay, I think this is worth setting racial and gender representation on panel shows back by 20 years), the studio task is to take a cow apart, the winner gets all the trophies.

That's a lot of countries. The Australian Adam Hills, the British Daniel Kitson, the American Demetri Martin, the Irish David O'Doherty, the Kiwi Jermaine Clement, and the now-British/American John Oliver. All with wildly different types of careers. All, for different reasons, among my favourite comedians. I have seen or heard all of the official video or audio stand-up releases by all six of those people (and possibly 1 or 2 or several hundred or so unofficial ones as well). And not because of this video or anything, I sought them out because those are among my favourites and then they were all on stage doing this unhinged thing together.

It's the great mystery of my lifetime, I still want to know where the fuck they got that cow. And I'm genuinely annoyed that I won't be able to see the stage where it happened when I go to Edinburgh this year, but it's all right, I'll look at the outside.

If I ever get to meet any of these people, this is the first question I'm asking. No I don't need to know anything else about your career, just please tell me, what the fuck was going on with that fucking cow in 2003?

#Youtube

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another-whump-sideblog · 2 months

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Jane's Pets Chapter 90: Hope

TWs in tags

Masterlist

"Is there something specific you want to talk about?" You ask. Fuck, it's been so long since she could choose what to talk about, at least that you've seen.

She just shrugs. "I don't know. I love you both. That's what I wish I could say the most. Besides that… I don't know."

You squeeze her hand. "I love you too."

Kitty nods in agreement. "Yeah, love you both…"

Puppy is silent for a bit. "You… you said I might hate you for not being politically active… why? I know you were homeless for most of your adult life, anyway… Hard to be involved in stuff like that when you're struggling to stay alive. And it's not like I was any kind of activist."

"...I don't know. It just feels like the bare minimum, y'know? I guess… I wish I'd been more involved in trying to help people back then. I was just only focused on myself. And not being politically active is an example of that… Sorry, it was a weird thing to say. I don't even really know what I meant, and I'm definitely not judging you for not being an activist, or anyone else. Just a thing I… I don't know. Sorry."

She hums thoughtfully. "Well, just know I would never hate you. Were you…? …nevermind."

You kinda want to know what she was going to say, but also this conversation is reallyyyyy awkward and you want it to be over. It's… nice, to have a problem as simple as this. An awkward conversation.

"I could never hate you either."

She nods. "I think… you're too hard on yourself. If you expect people to hate you over things like that."

You laugh in surprise. "Guess so. Add that to the list of things to talk about in therapy when this is all over."

She frowns. You hate that she doesn't believe this'll ever be over, but there's no point in trying to convince her. That'll have to wait until after Jane is dead.

"I'm… glad we can talk about anything." She finally says. "Even if we don't agree. When I'm allowed to talk, at least."

"Me too. Uh… I feel like there's so many things I've been wanting to ask you, but now that you actually can talk I can't think of anything." Besides questions about Jane you know she won't answer.

She nods. "Yeah, there's so many times that I want to say something and hold my tongue… but nothing is coming to mind now."

"We should just play a game or something, then. Kitty? What games do you think you're up for?"

They groan. "I don't know… I wanna play The Game of Life if you can talk, but… that requires a lot of focus…"

You're not really feeling up for The Game of Life either. "What about Crazy Eights?" That should be simple enough for you and Kitty and leave plenty of room for talking.

Puppy gives a thumbs up out of habit before remembering she can talk. "That sounds great."

Kitty nods in agreement, so the three of you play crazy eights for the next few hours, and then hang out with Puppy as she does her chores. It's so similar to how it normally is, and yet so different with Puppy joining in on the teasing each other and chatting.

This is how it should always be. They can't hope for that right now, but you can, and you will hope for them with everything you have.

-~-~

"Do you wanna know something funny?"

The girl stays perfectly still as Jane does her makeup. She's only recently been let upstairs for the first time and she doesn't want to do anything that would risk sending her back to the basement.

"My powers define death differently. Like, my immortality won't let me sleep forever, because that's considered too close to death. But I can only teleport non-living things, and wouldn't you know it, a person in a coma is considered alive! I don't get to be in a coma because I'm immortal. But someone in a coma is still too alive to be teleported. Isn’t that bullshit?”

The girl doesn’t dare move or speak. Jane hasn’t banned her from speaking yet, she just doesn’t want to know what’ll happen if she ruins the makeup. She wonders if Jane can teleport viruses, there's debate about whether or not those are alive, right? And her teleporting would remove all living bacteria, could it be used to sanatize things?

But she's not going to ask. She'll sit still and look pretty like Jane wants until she has a chance to get out.

“Drives me crazy." She mutters. "Look up, if you blink I'm gonna stab you in the eye."

The girl looks up as Jane applies eyeliner.

"You're really pretty… my little dress-up doll." She giggles.

The girl keeps looking up. Keeps being good, because eventually Jane will trust her to roam the house freely without cuts on her feet or broken ankles. Eventually, she'll be able to run. Just a bit longer. Just a bit more of this, and she'll be free.

-~-~

You think the healing spells you cast on the food in the fridge are working. You're the only one that would be able to tell, the others haven't been hurt recently, so you pay close attention to the speed of your healing. You think it's going faster.

It's been a few days since Puppy was allowed to talk, and your heart aches now that you have such a recent reminder of what Jane has taken away from her, and from you and Kitty. She should be that happy every day. She should be that free every day.

You spend a lot of time thinking about different spells and how you could make or find new ones. You feel fairly confident that if there was an already existing/known spell that could kill Jane, she would be dead, by her hand or someone else's. You have to discover the way to kill her, in your own way. You have to think of something no one's tried before. Something you have that everyone she's hurt before, including herself, didn't have.

There has to be something. There has to be. You have to have something special no one else has had before because otherwise this is going to be the rest of your life.

So that's what you spend your time thinking about, while you garden, while you play games with the others, while you go on walks and gather materials. What do you have that's special? What new spell can you make or discover that no one else before could've done?

"Kitty? Do you think I'm special?"

Kitty looks up from their coloring book (the three of you try to save the coloring books for special occasions- they can only really be used once, after all- and the special occasion today is that Kitty had a worse breakdown than normal and needed a pick-me-up). "Um… I don't know. Why?"

"Just… thinking. I've been trying to think of things that are special about me."

"...why?"

"I don't know. Sorry for bothering you."

"Hmm…" they go back to coloring. "Trying to… figure out why you're here? Even if there is something special… it doesn't help to worry about it."

"I know. I'm not worried about what made Jane pick me." You know why- you're trusting, and you were alone, and she thought it would be fun to hurt you. None of that is special.

"Okay…" Kitty frowns as they go back to coloring. Probably frustrated that they can't figure out why you're asking…

Well, Jane already knows you're trying to kill her. You can say this out loud.

"I just- lots of people have tried to kill Jane, y'know? If I want to be the one to do it, I have to have something none of those people had. I have to be special. Does that make sense?"

They nod slowly. "A little. But… it doesn't just have to be something about you. Or a specific person. Right? Cause… time keeps moving on. She's more or less given up on being able to die, or at least it seems that way from how she talks… but new things are invented every day."

Oh, you were totally right to talk to Kitty about this, even if Jane can hear your scheming. "Right! It could be something only someone in this specific time could do, not something only I can do. Hmm… If only we knew what kinds of things Jane had already tried! Or how she became immortal in the first place!"

Kitty sighs. "There's so much we don't know…" They look so, so tired.

"Don't give up hope. We're close, I just know it."

"Mmmm…"

They don't have to believe you. You'll get them out of here.

–

You wake up the next morning from a dream of forcing Jane to drink molten metal, a surprising but welcome break from your nightmares. You scheme even in your sleep. You doubt it would work, she's certain to have already tried that, but you do wonder… can she teleport things out of her body?

You add that to the list of things you want to test, right after if a body part got cut off, would she be able to reattach it or would she grow a new one? and can she heal if her entire body is destroyed at once?

You're scared to do things just to test them. If there's no chance of it killing her, you're just signing yourself (and the others) up to be tortured. But you'll never figure out how to kill her without more information…

So that makes the 'destroying her whole body' thing the most appealing. It's a test, but it also has a chance, however small, of actually killing her. So that's your plan for today.

You prepare a spell to do just that, not even bothering to wait for Jane to take someone else to the basement. You don't care if she's watching, so long as you can catch her off guard eventually. Your head is already starting to hurt.

Once the spell is prepared, you leave your room for breakfast, and-

Your hopes are immediately crushed. Jane is dragging Kitty by the hair to the basement.

You'd cast right now, but… you don't know if you're skilled enough to avoid hitting Kitty. So you just watch as Jane drags them and laughs while they cry.

"Good morning, Bunny! My Kitty needs a bit more training."

She throws them down the stairs and follows after, slamming the door behind her. Fuck

They're going to get tortured. You don't even know if they did anything, or if Jane was just bored. You need to kill Jane.

Puppy sits at the table, still muzzled, staring at the omelets she made. You need to kill Jane.

You sit down next to her. This… it's not ideal, but you can still get something out of this. Out of her being in the basement with Kitty. "Puppy. Do you trust me?"

Screaming starts up downstairs. Puppy nods slowly.

"Would you do anything for me?" You know you're being manipulative, but this can't go on any longer.

She looks at you suspiciously, but nods.

"Then I need you to tell me- If Jane's entire body was destroyed at once, would she die?"

Puppy shakes her head.

"If some kind of weapon was inside her body, would she be able to teleport it out?"

Puppy thinks for a moment, then shakes her head reluctantly. She's less willing to give you this information- probably because she's worried you'll do something stupid- but she did give it. She's not just telling you what she thinks will make you the least likely to get hurt, she's telling telling you the truth.

"If one of her limbs were chopped off, would another one grow in its place?"

She shakes her head.

"Would the limb reattach?"

She nods.

"So, her healing… it just reverses damage, right? It's not making new cells or anything."

Puppy nods. But… that doesn't feel right. When you slit her throat, the blood didn’t go back into her. And she told Barron (thinking about it at all sends a stab of pain through your chest, but you push it away) she once held open wounds until she should’ve bled out…

“But her blood is different. From her skin and stuff. More gets made, and more skin doesn’t get made.”

Puppy winces and nods hesitantly.

“I guess that could be true about any bodily fluids… but you’re reacting like blood is special. Is that important? For killing her? Knowing that her blood is different somehow?”

Puppy shrugs. She’s starting to look pretty upset… just a few more questions, then you can comfort her. Kitty screams and screams downstairs.

“So her blood is important to her immortality.”

Puppy nods.

“Do you know why she’s immortal?”

Puppy nods again, looking more distressed. You’re… not sure where to go from here with yes or no questions.

“Okay. I’m done. Sorry for upsetting you.” You pull her into a hug, and she practically melts. “I’m sorry. Thank you for trusting me, and helping me. I know you can’t believe me, but… I’m going to end this. We’re getting out of here.”

She doesn’t respond, of course. That’s okay- well, it’s not, but it’s going to be. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else, or if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @whump-in-the-closet @scp-1296 @thecosmicmap @quins-whump-stuff

@fuckcapitalismasshole

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #nonhuman whumper #multiple whumpees #pet whump #whumpee #whumper #whump caretaker #3rd person pov #2nd person pov #torture mention tw #implied drugging tw #jane’s pets

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sesamestreep · 11 months

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there's something fiction about the way that reality's going

(read on AO3)

SUMMARY: It's bad enough that Foggy has to spend his Saturday morning giving bad news to some overly-ambitious campaign manager. It's unforgivable that he turns out to be hot, of all things. [AKA - The West Wing AU] A/N: here's part 1 of that west wing au i've been talking about writing for months. I put copious notes (including a mild content warning for the 90s as a time period in general) on AO3, so I'd recommend reading there if you want more info. big thanks to @firstelevens for talking me off several ledges during the writing, editing, and posting processes for this fic!

“You know what’s sick, Karen?” Foggy asks, as he rounds the corner of her desk.

“Sick like bad, like the flu?” she asks, not looking away from her computer. “Or sick like good, like a skateboard trick?”

“Sick like disgusting and perverted.”

“Ooh, I am not sure I want to know.”

“Too bad,” he says, as he tosses his duffel bag into his office. It collides with a filing cabinet, but doesn’t knock anything over, which is pretty good from this distance. “I have reached a new level of depravity.”

“Congratulations?”

“Thank you. Ask me how.”

“Must I?”

“Yes.”

Karen sighs. “How did you reach a new level of depravity?”

“I found myself thinking, while flying with the President on Air Force One, ‘god, this sucks!’”

“That’s your new level of depravity?” she asks, unimpressed.

“Karen, I’m telling you I’m bored of flying on Air Force One! The President’s private plane is boring to me. The novelty—of Air Force One—is gone!”

“And that’s all?”

“‘That’s all’?! Karen, I—”

“I heard you the first twelve times," she says. "You’re a real sicko, Foggy, I get it.”

“This revelation means less to you than I anticipated,” Foggy says, idly fiddling with the things on her desk.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she says, filing something. “I kind of thought you picked up a new, exciting fetish while in Pakistan.”

“Unfortunately, no. At least, not that I’m aware of.”

“There’s always next time,” she replies. “Did you bring me back anything?”

“Also no. In my defense, you didn’t tell me you wanted a new, exciting fetish while I was there.”

“A good boss would know without having to be told.”

“Oh, no. They’ll take away my ‘world’s greatest boss’ mug for this!”

“You don’t have one of those,” she says, frowning.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Looks like we’ve both got some work to do,” she says, turning her attention back to her computer.

“Speaking of that, what are you doing here on a Saturday?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Almost always, but in this case…”

Karen looks at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Foggy, you have a meeting.”

“I don’t schedule meetings for Saturday mornings,” he says. “And certainly not after I’ve been away in Islamabad with the President for three days and on a plane for 15 hours.”

“Yes, but this is Marci’s meeting,” Karen says. “The one you promised to cover for her, since her cousin had to move her bachelorette weekend up two weeks to—”

“This weekend. Fuck!” Foggy closes his eyes. “Oh, I should not have agreed to this! This was so stupid. I’m so jet lagged right now and I’ve been wearing the same suit for like two days.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Ew, why?”

“I packed in a hurry and I miscounted—you know what, forget it! I would still smell like airplane, regardless.”

She steps around her desk to put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure it’s not even that—Good god! That is not what airplanes are supposed to smell like!”

Foggy sniffs his shirt and winces. He was kind of hoping he was just being dramatic. “Pakistan is a very populous country,” he says, weakly. “And we were in the capitol, so lots of people, in close quarters…”

“So, unless this guy has a sinus infection, he’s going to be able to smell you from down the hall.”

“Karen, please! I am begging you…”

“Do you have another suit?”

“Not one that smells better !” Foggy exclaims. “Do I have time to go out and buy a new suit?”

“Your meeting is in 30 minutes, and I’m guessing you still need to read the briefing packet Marci left you, so you know what this guy wants to talk about.”

“This is the guy from the Bryant campaign? Mitchell…something?”

“ Matthew Murdock, yes.”

“I know what he wants to talk about,” Foggy says, waving a hand at her.

“Oh, just read the damn packet!”

“I need to find something to wear that doesn’t smell like I walked here from Islamabad, okay?”

“I’ll ask around,” Karen replies. “You prep for the meeting.”

“You’re going to ask around ?”

“Yes."

“To see if someone in the building has a suit I can borrow?

“Foggy!”

“I feel like you’re vastly underestimating how weird of a request that is!”

“Not all men are as suspicious as you.”

“Most men are more suspicious than me, firstly,” he says. “And secondly, even if you found someone in this office to accept this absurd request—on a Saturday, no less!—suits are supposed to be tailored. I’m going to look weird in someone else’s suit!”

“What’s worse: looking weird in an ill-fitting suit or smelling weird in this one?”

“Maybe he will have a sinus infection,” Foggy muses.

“Yes, because praying for that is less weird than my plan,” Karen says, with an eye roll. “Wait, you have a gym bag!”

“In my office? Yeah…”

“And last week, that budget meeting got rescheduled and you couldn’t go to the gym after work because it was already closed when the meeting wrapped up!”

“Yes! Why are we excited about this?”

Karen’s practically bouncing on her feet. “Because if the bag is still here but you didn’t go to the gym, that means the clothes are clean!”

“You want me to meet with the manager for a congressional campaign in my gym clothes?” Foggy asks.

“Your clean gym clothes!”

“I can’t meet him in my gym clothes!”

“Why not?”

“It’s unprofessional!”

“It’s Saturday! You’re…laid back! You’re chillin’!”

Foggy shakes his head at her, because it’s extremely clear to him that she’s never said that word in another context before in her life. “Just chillin’ at the White House! Now there’s a TV show I’d watch!”

“ Foggy !”

“It could be like this President’s version of FDR’s fireside chats! You’re a genius, Karen!”

“I’m being helpful and you’re being such a dick about it,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re right,” he says, putting his hands on her shoulders in a conciliatory gesture. “And I appreciate it. But I can’t wear gym clothes to this meeting.”

“It wouldn’t be that weird! You could come up with an excuse—”

“No, I understand. It’s just—I barely look good in a suit. I can trick people into taking me seriously in a suit. If this guy sees me in basketball shorts, he’ll never take me seriously.”

“You look good in a suit, no qualifiers,” Karen says, firmly. “And honestly, it would probably be charming to him if you were in gym clothes. And lastly, you are the deputy chief of staff at the White House, Foggy. People take you seriously. You are serious.”

“That was wall-to-wall bald faced lies, but I do love you for it,” he says, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “And if I’m being honest with you, I’m nervous about the optics of dressing casually for a meeting where I know I have to give someone bad news.”

Karen frowns. “What’s going on?”

“The campaign this guy is running, it’s Bryant’s campaign in the 21st district in New York State. It’s a district that, historically, a Republican always wins. From what I know, and what Marci’s told me, this guy wants more help from us, and more funding from the DNC, to get Bryant elected instead.”

“But we’re not going to do that?” Karen asks.

“No, we’re not.”

“Why not?”

“Because Bryant sucks,” Foggy admits, with a small, mirthless laugh.

“Worse than the Republican who’s running?”

“He’s the incumbent and we know what to do with him, at least.”

“Still,” she interjects, frowning deeper, “it’s not…great…”

“It’s political maneuvering to be sure,” Foggy says, “but that’s the business we’re in, like it or not.”

“Yeah, so…”

“So, showing up to this meeting looking ready for an aerobics class and then telling this guy he’s up a creek and the DNC isn’t going to throw him a paddle might be a bad look. At least if my suit’s wrinkled and I smell bad, he can write it off as me being an overworked staffer.”

“Which, you are.”

“Exactly!”

“Yeah, okay. I get it,” Karen says, moving back to her desk.

“I have a few minutes?”

“Yeah, read the thing on your desk.”

“I don’t need to—”

“Marci wrote it so you could—”

“Marci’s secretary wrote it, and you know that.”

“And Marci’s secretary’s work has less value than Marci’s because…?”

“Ah, okay,” Foggy says, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll read the thing.”

“Do you need coffee?”

“Desperately.”

She nods. “Okay, I’ll get you some, so you can read.”

“Thank you. And while you’re at it, see if Jeri’s secretary is in and ask—”

“Excuse me,” a voice behind them says, and they both startle.

“Hi, can I help you?” Karen asks, automatically and politely, as she turns to face the man.

“I hope so,” he says. “I’m looking for Karen Page.”

“Then I can definitely help you,” she replies, cheerfully. “That’s me.”

“Oh, excellent,” the man says, offering her his hand. “I’m Matt Murdock, from the Bryant campaign. I have a meeting with Mr. Nelson at 10.”

“You’re…from the Bryant campaign?” Karen asks, hesitantly.

Foggy knows how she feels. Absolutely nothing about this guy says ‘campaign manager’ except for the quality of his suit. He’s so glaringly handsome in a professional-athlete-who-also-gets-modeling-gigs kind of way that it takes Foggy a full minute to clock that he’s wearing sunglasses indoors (something a professional athlete/part-time model would do) and carrying a white cane. Bryant’s campaign manager is blind. That’s almost as unexpected as him being hot.

“Yes, I know. I’m a little bit early,” he says, either willfully or obliviously attributing Karen’s surprise to the wrong thing.

Karen recovers quickly, though. “Not to worry,” she says, finally taking his hand and giving it a polite shake. “We appreciate your punctuality.”

“Well, I appreciate that handshake,” Matt offers, charmingly. “Very commanding, very firm!”

Much to Foggy’s amusement and vague annoyance, Karen lets out a hopelessly charmed laugh at that. “Thank you, I—uh, I do my best.”

Foggy gives her a wide-eyed look, and she gives him a helpless and slightly embarrassed one back. He shakes his head before inclining it towards Matt, who either hasn’t noticed him or is avoiding acknowledging him, for whatever reason.

“Would you be so kind as to let your boss know I’m here?”

“That, uh, won’t be necessary,” she says. Karen never stammers. This is so funny. “He’s, um—well, he’s right here! Foggy, are you ready for Mr. Murdock?”

Foggy does his best to hide his smile. “Am I ever!” he says, gamely, and steps forward to shake his hand. “Franklin Nelson, at your service. Everyone calls me Foggy, so you should too!”

This, somehow, catches Matt off-guard, which given his otherwise smooth and unflappable exterior, is kind of impressive. He very clearly expected to wait to be seen, and possibly hoped to have more time to flirt with Foggy’s assistant, judging by the looks of things.

“Hello,” Matt says, stiff with awkwardness. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same here,” Foggy replies. “Delighted to make your acquaintance! I am holding out my hand for you to shake, for the record.”

“Oh, right. I’m so sorry,” he says, as he hurries to take it.

There’s an awkward moment as he sort of guesstimates where Foggy’s hand is before making contact and Foggy’s left to wonder if he could have made that less weird somehow and feel slightly embarrassed that he doesn’t know the protocol for this situation. And he’s already feeling pretty embarrassed that he smells like a 15 hour flight in front of this very handsome stranger, who can probably smell him even more than the average person. Unless that stuff about depriving one sense making the others stronger is bullshit, which it might be. Foggy’s tempted to ask but that seems likely to make the situation more awkward still.

Matt’s palm is a little rough in places, which is kind of nice. Foggy’s is, he knows, not even a little bit rough. He’s got the smooth baby soft hands of someone who has always been an indoor kid and then grew up to be a lawyer. No calluses to speak of whatsoever. It makes him wonder where Matt, likely a lawyer himself, got his from. And now he’s been holding this hot guy’s hand for too long. Perfect.

“Well, why don’t you step into my office?” he asks, dropping it quickly.

“You’re sure? I know I got here before our appointment.”

“No trouble at all,” Foggy says, with more enthusiasm than he feels. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, yes,” Karen pipes up. “We have coffee, tea, soda, water—”

“I’m good,” Matt says, with another charming smile in her direction. Foggy’s still waiting for his. “Thank you, Karen.”

“Yes, thank you, Karen,” Foggy says brightly, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

“Actually, Foggy, could I borrow you for a second?”

“Absolutely.” To Matt, he says, “You can go right in and I’ll be with you shortly. There’s a chair in front of the desk, where…chairs normally are in an office.”

This, for whatever reason, makes Matt snort in amusement, which is somehow better than getting a smile out of him. “Yes, I think I can manage,” he replies, and moves towards Foggy’s office.

“Great. Be right there!” Once he’s gone, Foggy leans in close to Karen. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to point out that you should have listened to me and worn your gym clothes after all,” she says, flipping through a file on her desk disinterestedly.

“Yes, yes, I know. Karen Page the Wise, let her instincts never be doubted again,” Foggy says, miming genuflection.

“Do you still want a coffee?”

“I’ll grab it when I’m done. Hopefully, this won’t take long,” he says. He leans in even closer and drops his voice to a whisper. “By the way, is this guy a real campaign manager or is he just auditioning to play one on TV?”

“ Foggy ,” Karen exclaims, with an eye roll.

“I’m sorry, but he’s, like, stupid handsome!”

“I hadn’t noticed,” she sniffs, feigning disinterest.

“Uh huh,” Foggy says, unimpressed. “Well, he noticed your firm handshake, that’s for sure.”

“You really are more perverted than when you left, aren’t you?” Karen says, amused. “Now, get in there and disappoint that beautiful man.”

“Lucky for him, that is something I’m very good at.”

Karen snorts at that, and returns to her work. Foggy goes back to his office and is pleased to see that Matt has managed to find a seat.

“Sorry about that,” he announces, as he settles into the chair behind his desk. “We’re a little bit scattered this morning. I just got back from Islamabad about twenty minutes ago.”

“Well, I appreciate your time.”

“Don’t mention it. Listen, Michael…”

“Matthew,” he says, surely seeing through the power play but not pointing it out. “Matt, if it’s all the same.”

“Right, sorry. Hey, at least, I knew it was one of the gospels from the Bible, right?”

The unbothered, generically pleasant expression on his face doesn't falter as he says, evenly, “There is no gospel according to Michael in the Bible.”

“Maybe not in yours,” Foggy replies, hoping he covers his nerves well enough that Matt can’t hear anything in his voice. “There’s a Saint Michael, though, right?”

“Yes,” Matt says, cracking a barely-there smile. “He’s an archangel, too.”

“An angel and a saint? Sounds like a lot of work. What’s his deal?”

“His ‘deal’?”

“Yeah, like what’s he the saint of?”

“Oh, like his patronage?”

“Yes,” Foggy says, snapping his fingers. “Like is he the guy to pray to when I’ve got a hangnail or a flat tire?”

“No,” Matt laughs, shaking his head. “He’s considered the patron saint of police officers, the military, paramedics, the protector of the Jewish people and the Vatican, as well as Germany, the Ukraine, and Brussels.”

“Wow, can you do that for all the saints?”

“A good amount of them,” Matt replies. He shrugs before adding, “I went to Catholic school.”

“That must come in handy.”

“You’d really be surprised how little it comes up,” he says, drolly.

“Really?" Foggy asks. "Not even when you have a flat tire?”

“I would probably call AAA first, in that scenario. The saints tend to take their time.”

“Solid point.”

“Listen, Mr. Nelson—”

“God, please, like I said: call me ‘Foggy’. I’d do the classic ‘Mr. Nelson is my father’ bit but I’m pretty sure no one calls him that either.”

“‘Foggy?’ Really?” Matt repeats, incredulously.

“Yes, it’s—not important why. It’s just—it’s what everyone calls me.”

“Fine,” he says, leaning forward in his seat. “Foggy, then. As much as I appreciate the opportunity to show off the benefits of my Catholic upbringing and education, I didn’t come here to talk to you about the patronages of various saints.”

“Yes, I knew that, actually. I’m sorry. I was stalling.”

Matt slumps back in his seat at that. “You’re going to tell me you can’t help me.”

“Listen, if this had been my meeting from the start, I would have told you not to bother coming down.”

“In your colleague’s defense, she did tell me that.”

“Well, then, I’m surprised you did it anyway.”

“You wouldn’t be, if you knew me better,” Matt replies, with so much confidence it borders on cocky. He gets five percent hotter in Foggy’s mental estimation from that alone.

He clears his throat. “Your candidate is running for a seat in New York’s 21st district. Democrats never win in the 21st. It’s simple math.”

“Yes, historically, this district goes red in elections, but that doesn’t mean, with the right democrat and proper funding from the DNC—”

“That’s true,” Foggy allows.

“So, what’s the issue?”

“You don’t have the right democrat.”

“I…what?”

“I’m saying, Bryant isn’t the democrat to flip the 21st.”

“According to whom?”

“According to me.”

“Is there anyone else I can talk to, then?” Matt asks, clearly keeping his patience on a very tight leash if the state of his jaw is any indication. Not that Foggy is admiring his jawline at a time like this.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Foggy, I came down here—”

“A waste of time, as promised, but hey, at least you made a new friend!”

“You and I are not friends.”

“I meant you and Karen," Foggy says, blithely, "but ouch.”

Matt's jaw somehow clenches even tighter. “I want to talk to someone who’s going to take me seriously!”

“You are talking to someone who’s taking you seriously,” he says, earnestly. “Trust me, Matt. It’s not you, it’s your candidate.”

“Well, that’s a new one,” he says, deflating.

“Bryant is a centrist—”

“It’s a Republican stronghold!” Matt exclaims. “Who else has a chance to flip the seat? Do you want to put a diehard socialist on the ballot instead and see how they do?”

“More than anything in the world, yes,” Foggy replies. “But this isn’t about what I want.”

“The incumbent is a right wing clown and he lends legitimacy to their rhetoric. I think the country would be better off with him out of a job. I’m sorry that the White House and the DNC disagree, but—”

“You’re right.”

“I’m right?!”

“You’re right,” Foggy says. “With an asterisk.”

“Oh, boy.”

“Just a tiny footnote, really. He is a right wing clown, and he should be voted out of office, but he’s also a boon to the DNC.”

“How exactly does that make sense?”

“Every time he opens his mouth, the DNC pulls a quote, puts it on a direct mail campaign, and raises tens of thousands of dollars off of their members’ outrage. As long as we keep him in front of a microphone, we can basically print money for ourselves.”

Matt rolls his eyes. “What a reassuring thing to hear from a representative of my government.”

Foggy laughs, unexpectedly, which just makes Matt glare in his general direction. “Technically, we are the only ones who should be printing money, but that’s beside the point.”

“Are we at least approaching the point sometime soon?”

“You’re familiar with the phrase ‘better the devil you know…’”

Matt sighs. “‘Than the devil you don’t’. Yes.”

“Bryant’s the devil we don’t know. Dashwood’s the one we do.”

“Bryant is a democrat, Foggy.”

“Barely, and I don’t want it to be my job for the next six and a half years to make sure he’s not going to be the swing vote on every measure we want to get passed through the House. And it will be my job, Matt.”

“Well, if you keep selling out viable democrats like this, I don’t think you can count on re-election as a matter of course like you just did, so let’s call it two and a half years to be safe.”

Foggy leans forward onto his forearms. “Sweetheart, you don’t have a viable democrat on your hands, and that’s the nicest way anyone in this building is going to put it, so let’s quit while we’re ahead.”

“Easy for you to say,” Matt replies, standing. Foggy mirrors him. “I appreciate the condescension, by the way. No one’s called me ‘sweetheart’ in a long time.”

“No trouble at all,” Foggy says. “Feel free to stop by anytime you need your ego stroked.”

Matt laughs, or really huffs, putting his hands on his hips. He’s either getting a second wind on this argument or they’re about to get into a fistfight. He might have made that last retort too flirty. Some guys, by which he does mean most straight guys, will really take any opportunity. Luckily, a knock at the door cuts their standoff short.

“Foggy, the President wants anybody who’s available in the Oval Office in five,” Marci says as she barrels in without waiting, before her eyes land on Matt. “Oh, sorry to interrupt.”

“Marci, this is Matt Murdock, from the Bryant campaign,” Foggy says, begrudgingly. “Matt, this is Marci Stahl, deputy communications director. I believe your original meeting was supposed to be with her.”

“Yes. Hi,” Matt says, cheerfully enough, but the set of his shoulders remains tense.

“Matt, so nice to meet you,” she trills, giving Foggy a wide-eyed look over his shoulder as they shake hands. Of course she immediately clocked how attractive he is. Sometimes he thinks that an unfortunate side effect of them dating and then staying friends for so long is that they basically have the same brain. “I’m so sorry for sticking you with Foggy here. There were some scheduling issues with my calendar.”

“Not to worry,” Matt says, tightly. “Foggy’s taken excellent care of me.”

Marci purses her lips in amusement. “Isn’t he just the best?” she says, grinning at Foggy sadistically. “If I had my way, I’d foist all my downer meetings on him, because he always handles people so gently. Not my strong suit, I’m afraid.”

Foggy rolls his eyes, but Matt beats him to the punch. “‘Downer meetings’?” he asks, deceptively pleasant.

“Yes, well, it’s a pity about Bryant, but you’re young, as I can now see. You’ll have other campaigns, ones you can actually win.”

“We haven’t technically lost this one yet.”

Marci gives Foggy a look, before shaking her head. “So true,” she says, giving Matt’s arm a squeeze. “Anyway! Safe travels! Foggy, like I said, five minutes.”

“I’m in the middle of a meeting,” he replies, annoyed.

“It’s the Cruz case.”

“That’s going to—”

“It came back 5-3 against,” she says, cutting him off with a significant look at Matt. “That’s why I canceled my trip. We’re all hands on deck.”

Foggy sighs, but only because it would be inappropriate to swear. “Okay.”

“Five minutes.”

“I said, ‘okay’.”

Marci nods and departs in her usual cloud of Chanel perfume and hyper competence, her heels clicking down the hallway until the sound fades completely. Foggy rubs his face, thinking miserably about how this is just the beginning of what will most likely be a very long, bad day. He’s going to need to send Karen to his apartment to get him some clothes. He’s going to need twelve coffees, ideally right now, but he’s got to deal with Matt first. When he looks over at him, he’s standing there, shell shocked.

“I’m sorry about that,” he says, because he honestly is. “She’s—it’s not always like this.”

Matt seems to spring back into action like a spell has been lifted. “It’s fine,” he says, picking up his briefcase and his stick. “You have to get going.”

“It’s not—”

“Don’t say it’s not important, for my benefit. It sounds important.”

“I can walk you out,” Foggy says, coming around the desk towards him.

“I can manage on my own,” Matt says, not unkindly but not meekly either. The implication that he wants to end this interaction sooner rather than later is barely implied.

“Of course. It was, uh, lovely to meet you.”

“Sure,” he replies, not reciprocating the sentiment but extending his hand as they pause in front of Karen’s desk. Foggy takes it and gives him a firm handshake.

“Karen, could you—?"

“I’m fine,” Matt interrupts. “Thank you, though. Karen, a pleasure.”

“You too,” Karen offers. “The hallway behind you leads right to the exit. You’ll need to sign out with security.”

“Thank you,” he says, and departs without further fanfare.

“How’d he take it?” Karen asks Foggy, once he’s gone.

“Super well,” Foggy chirps. “In fact, we’re thinking this summer for the wedding.”

“That’s fast,” Karen says, barely hiding her smile.

“What can I say? When you know you know.” He sighs deeply. “Marci told you about the Supreme Court thing?”

“Yeah. You want me to go grab you a change of clothes from your place?”

“Yes, please. You need my keys?”

“I have your spare still,” Karen says, as she gets up and puts on her coat. “Need anything else while I’m out?”

“The world’s largest coffee, with as many espresso shots as the law allows.”

“Got it,” she replies with a nod. She’s already on her way out when he grabs her by the elbow to stop her.

“Am I, like, the world’s biggest asshole?” he asks, earnestly. “And be honest, because I feel like the world’s biggest asshole right now.”

“You’re not,” Karen says, immediately, squeezing his arm. “You’re the best person I know, but you’re jet lagged and overtired and stinky and now you have to spend the rest of your day talking about the death penalty. That would put anyone in a bad mood.”

“Yeah,” Foggy says. “Thanks.”

He lets her go, then, because they’ve all got work to do, but her words don’t reassure him like they usually would.

Foggy waits on the sidewalk out in front of St. Patrick’s the next morning with ten minutes to spare before the 10 AM mass gets out. He finds himself wishing he had cigarettes, which he only ever wants when he’s nervous and needs something to do with his hands. He’s complained about this before, unwisely, with his mother in earshot, which had led to her snapping at him to take up knitting if he needs something productive to do with his hands. The worst fight he can ever remember having with her was when she found cigarettes in his room when he was home from college once. What is it about being within spitting distance of a Catholic church that brings up all his repressed guilt like that?

He probably could have brought coffee, but he’s not sure if Matt declined yesterday to be polite or if he genuinely doesn’t drink it. Either way, Foggy couldn’t begin to guess how he’d take it, so it’s probably better to just skip it entirely. He doesn’t need to bribe him, and he doesn’t need anything to occupy his hands. He’s senior staff at the goddamn White House. He doesn’t need to be nervous.

Over his shoulder, he hears the sound of voices starting to drift over from the doors and of footsteps on the stairs. When he glances over, he sees crowds starting to form at the entrance. He remembers, suddenly, from a few christenings he was forced to attend for various cousins, how much people like to stand around and gab after mass and hopes that, by virtue of not being at his own church, Matt won’t be stuck talking to a bunch of old ladies for too long.

Thankfully, it’s only a few minutes later when he emerges from the crowd, easy to spot with his glasses and his stick, head down and separate. Foggy hesitates for a second, worried this will be an intolerable intrusion on something, well, sacred, but he did go out of his way to talk to him. It will be even less excusable if he doesn’t go through with it.

Matt’s head swivels in the correct direction when he hears his name called and Foggy would guess he’s good at identifying voices, both in general and in his line of work, where schmoozing and networking are so essential. Matt’s already at a disadvantage, not knowing people by sight, so he can only imagine he’s found a way to compensate for it. He’s guessing he knows who it is before Foggy even says, “on your right,” and approaches him.

“Foggy?” Matt asks, and he’s not sure if he’s guessing or just expressing surprise.

“Hi,” he says, and it comes out weirdly shy, because of course it does. Matt’s still dressed nicely, like he was yesterday, though he’s ditched the tie and thrown a sweater over his dress shirt instead. It’s like he knows about Foggy’s childhood crush on Mr. Rogers.

“Hi,” Matt says, with a laugh. “Did we—don’t tell me this is your church.”

“Yes, I moonlight as an organist at St. Patrick’s. Just for the tips, though.”

“I—what?”

“Sorry, I’m kidding. I don’t go to church here. I went to see you at your hotel, I was hoping to catch you before you checked out, and the receptionist said I’d just missed you and that you’d gone to church.”

“She told you where to find me?”

“No, I guessed. I mean, St. Patrick’s is the closest Catholic church—you mentioned Catholic school yesterday, so I figured it was the best bet—and of course, it’s, you know, historic and beautiful, with all that stained glass and the, um…”

Matt tips his head to the side, considering him as he fumbles for words. He looks amused, at least, and not deeply offended, which is probably a good sign. He also looks like he’s waiting for Foggy to admit defeat, which is never going to happen.

“The acoustics are probably also good,” he finishes, pathetically, and Matt laughs, not like he did yesterday, all guarded and cynical with disappointment. He laughs big and unrestrained and maybe even delighted. Foggy gets the sense that he’s a little surprised by it himself.

“Yes, the acoustics were wonderful,” he says, and his eyes are crinkling attractively at the corners.

“I’m an idiot,” Foggy says, in the direction of his shoes. He doesn’t need to hide a blush from Matt, he figures, but he does it anyway.

“No, that was…” Matt takes his time searching for the word, and Foggy’s heart races. He shakes his head, helplessly. “‘Acoustics.’ You're cute.”

“I…” Foggy has fully lost his train of thought. He tries to remember a single time he has said something coherent in his entire life and fails. His brain has shut down, possibly permanently and forever.

“Sorry, that came out wrong," Matt clarifies, after a moment's pause. "What I meant was, that was a cute thing to say.”

The part of Foggy that was wondering if it would be weird to ask a guy who just got out of church if he was, perhaps, a friend of Dorothy immediately withers and dies on the spot. That was the straightest point of clarification he’s ever witnessed in his life.

“Well,” Foggy says, remarkably normally after the emotional journey he just went on, “you don’t know this, since you can’t see, but you were right the first time. I am adorable.”

Matt, thankfully, laughs at that too. “I’ll defer to your expertise on the matter.”

“I appreciate that.”

“So, you were looking for me at my hotel?”

“Yes!”

“Can I ask why?”

“I—right. That is the sort of thing that requires explanation.”

“Yes, it is,” Matt says, patiently.

“I wanted to…apologize for yesterday,” Foggy says, letting the words flow out on an exhale. “You didn’t catch any of us on our best day, and while nothing I said to you was factually incorrect or inaccurate to our position, I feel like you weren’t treated with the respect you deserve and I really regret that. None of that is how we do things, and it’s not who we are. I hope, at my best, it’s not who I am, either.”

Matt doesn’t bother to hide his surprise. After a moment, he says, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t worry about it. I fully acknowledge that I ambushed you—at a church, of all places—so I’ll just…”

“I appreciate it,” Matt says, suddenly. “The apology, not the ambush. Although, I guess they’re sort of intertwined at this point…”

“Sure,” Foggy laughs.

“You really didn’t have to—”

“I felt bad. It was badly done, and I wanted to try to make it right.”

“Still, I’ve been in professional politics for almost a decade now, and I can count the number of heartfelt apologies I’ve received on one hand. It’s not the sort of thing everyone does.”

“Well, it’s a thing I do, when I’m wrong. And I was. I’m genuinely sorry.”

Matt acknowledges this with another tilt of his head. “You weren’t wrong about everything, unfortunately.”

Foggy frowns, trying to parse what this means. “I’m not sure I—oh my god! Matt!”

He winces. “Do not gloat!”

“I’m not!” Foggy practically shouts. “I won’t. I promise! But, if I’m understanding you correctly, you know?”

“About Bryant? Of course I do! I work for him!”

“That begs the question of why?”

“Why do I work for him?”

“Yes!”

“I’m not in politics just for the love of it, Foggy. I’m a professional political operative, I need the work!”

“Yeah, but Bryant?”

Matt makes a face at him. “Do you imagine there’s a seller’s market out there for blind campaign managers?”

“No, but—” Foggy pauses and really considers this. Matt keeps things upbeat, from what he can tell, brushing off references to his disability easily enough by all appearances, but it must actually be brutal out there for him. “No, you’re right. It’s got to be tough. Even for someone as good as you.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not saying it to flatter you. Considering you’re working in a district that virtually always votes red, and you’ve got a dud for a candidate, your numbers are very impressive. I mean, unless you’re handing out headshots at campaign stops, I don’t understand how you’re doing it at all.”

“Headshots?” Matt asks. “Of me?”

“Okay, don’t you dare try some sort of aw, shucks routine with me. I know you know you’re handsome.”

Matt laughs, tucking his chin in a remarkably shy gesture from such a confident asshole. “That’s a good one, though. Headshots. I’ll have to write that down.”

“Maybe the 21st district will flip after all.”

“Okay, I know I’m not that handsome.”

Foggy wants to argue the point, but he’s also done enough embarrassing himself for one day and it’s not even noon yet. He’s got to stick to the matter at hand. “Listen, what I said yesterday—”

“Consider it forgotten. Really.”

“No, uh, what I said reflects the opinion and the decision of the White House, even if the delivery left something to be desired. But the administration, specifically the President, wanted me to be clear with you that, Bryant aside, if you ever found a viable candidate, we’d get interested in a hurry. We remain very impressed by your work, if not your candidate.”

Matt appears intrigued by this. “Did anyone happen to specify a better candidate by name?”

“Well, the suggestion was raised that you might fit the bill.”

“Raised by whom?”

“That I couldn’t say,” Foggy demurs, and Matt does that little head tilt again, so he mimes locking his mouth and throwing away the key before he realizes Matt can’t see or appreciate it. It’s also a very dorky thing to do, so that might be for the best.

“You want me to run for office?” Matt asks, instead.

“It’s just a suggestion,” Foggy says, putting his hands up defensively. “Something to think about for the future.”

“The distant, distant future, maybe…”

Foggy shrugs. “Sure. Either way, you’ve made some friends in D.C. this time around. Your next campaign will be easier, I promise.”

“Well, I have to make it through this one first,” Matt says, grimly, running a hand over his jaw in distress. God, even distressed, he’s still ridiculously handsome.

“Hey, if all else fails, you can always pray to Saint Thomas More.”

Matt gives him a baffled look. “What?”

“You know,” Foggy says, putting his hands in his pockets, casually, “the patron saint of statesmen and politicians.”

Matt’s smile of delight and comprehension is like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, which is a sentiment Foggy would have dismissed as overly and unnecessarily poetic and saccharine probably twenty minutes ago. His words to Karen yesterday— when you know, you know— come back to haunt him and it is so unfair and yet completely expected that this would happen to him, of all people. He’s known this guy for probably thirty minutes total and still, he knows Matt is special. That this is the beginning of something, even though it probably isn’t going to be what he wishes it could be. This is, bizarrely, a talent of his. He knows when someone is going to be important to him, usually right from the start. He knew it with Marci. He knew it with Karen. He knows it now too.

Son of a bitch, he thinks. This might hurt.

“Where did you learn that?” Matt asks, his voice gone kind of breathless around his smile.

“Not to brag, but I have access to many things in my line of work,” he replies, trying to stay casual, despite the revelations, “including several volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica.”

“Fancy,” Matt says, with a laugh. “I appreciate the tip.”

“I couldn’t find the saint to pray to specifically for car trouble, but Saint Christopher or Saint Frances of Rome are the patron saints of drivers and Saint Catherine of Alexandria is the patron saint of mechanics, so any of them would do in a pinch. In case you were wondering.”

“Saint Christopher,” Matt replies, “is the patron saint of all travelers, actually.”

“Show-off!" Foggy exclaims. "You didn’t even have to look that up!”

“Every Catholic household has a medal or something for Saint Christopher kicking around,” he says, with a smile. “You didn’t stand a chance, I’m afraid to say.”

“What gave me away?”

“Oh, everything. I can spot a Protestant at fifty paces, especially the Christmas-and-Easter variety. It’s like the first thing they teach you in Catholic school.”

“Sure. I mean, what else are they going to do with all that time they’re not teaching you how to put condoms on bananas?”

Matt laughs another one of those big, unexpected laughs, almost staggering back with the force of it. “Yeah, abstinence only makes for very short lesson plans.”

“I’m guessing you all managed to figure out the basics anyway, just from the CDC data I’ve seen,” Foggy says, fully blushing all over with the pride of making Matt laugh and his own stupidity at bringing up Sex Ed in a moment like this. Sometimes he just truly cannot stop himself.

Before Matt can confirm or deny that he knows how to use a condom (seriously, what’s the matter with his brain?) Foggy rushes to add, “Also, thank you for giving me the credit of going to church on Easter. My mother will be pleased to know I’m fooling people into thinking I’m a nice young man, rather than being obvious with my true heathen nature.”

“You are a nice young man,” Matt says, softly, with the appearance of having sobered slightly. Maybe Foggy shouldn’t have called himself a heathen. Maybe he was being too obvious, the coded aspect of the code word too unfortunately crackable. Oh, well. “At least, I assume you’re young? I’m guessing, from the sound of your voice.”

“I am. I mean, I guess I am. Is 34 young?”

“For the deputy chief of staff for the White House?” Matt asks, eyebrows raised. “Yes! Are you serious?”

“Well, then.”

“You’re my age.”

“And?”

“You’re very successful.”

“I got lucky," Foggy says, with a shrug. "I was in the right place at the right time. That’s all.”

“Yes, because being in the right place at the right time is something to scoff at in our line of work,” Matt says, looking unimpressed. “And definitely completely negates the fact of you being good at your job.”

“I don’t know if I’d call that a fact, per se…”

“I’ll settle for it being my professional opinion, then, and people generally pay me good money for that kind of thing.”

“Well, I left my checkbook at home, unfortunately,” Foggy quips, and is rewarded with a sharp, almost shark-like smile from Matt. “All I can offer you is my gratitude. I mean, unless—?”

“Yes?” Matt asks, when he doesn’t immediately finish his thought.

“Well, you probably have to catch a flight or a train or something soon, right?”

He nods, brow furrowed. “Yeah, my train is out of Union Station at 1:30. Why?”

“Nothing, I—I’m sure you’ve got to—and I should, probably—”

“You should probably just say whatever it was you were initially going to ask me,” Matt says, head tipped, once again, with interest.

“Right,” Foggy laughs. This is so, so stupid. “I was going to say, if you had time, I could buy you a cup of coffee, to complete my apology for yesterday and to chip away at your consulting fee.”

Matt visibly hesitates, which, of course he does. Foggy made the world’s worst first impression and insulted him yesterday. He apologized for that, sure, but Matt’s still probably not pleased about the DNC’s decision and this wasted trip to D.C. to talk about it. One pleasant conversation doesn’t make them friends or anything.

“That's not necessary," he eventually replies, though not with a great deal of conviction, which is strange. With anyone else, Foggy would assume they wanted him to insist, but somehow he has trouble imagining that's the case here. "I'm sure you'd like to get back to your Sunday plans."

"My Sunday plans are this conversation and going into the office to debate the finer points of the death penalty. You have a pretty low opinion of yourself if you think your company ranks lower than that."

Matt seems to relax at that, oddly enough. “So," he says, with a self-deprecating smile, "this is probably the part where I should admit to an unhealthy amount of curiosity about where you’re at with the Cruz case.”

Of all the things he expected Matt to say, that certainly had not occurred to him, which means he blinks in surprise for what turns out to be a little too long.

“Sorry,” Matt says, mistaking Foggy’s pause for something it isn’t and wincing in apparent embarrassment, “I heard about it on the news. The Supreme Court’s decision, I mean, and I’ve been following the case for a while. When Marci mentioned it yesterday—I shouldn’t have said anything, but—”

“No, not at all,” Foggy says, hurriedly. “I’d honestly love to get your opinion.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I mean, you just admitted to following the case, and you’re a lawyer by training, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“Right, so that, and you know the political landscape we’re situated in at the moment as well as anyone, running this campaign, dealing with the DNC. Even if you want to give me your opinion as a Catholic, I’ll take it. It’s…we’re basically taking all bets, at the moment, if that’s not insulting to admit.”

Matt laughs lightly. “Not insulting. I think on average there was a majority of flattering sentiments in there.”

“Good,” Foggy says, sighing in relief. “That’s how it was intended.”

“I take it the President hasn’t made a decision on whether to stay the execution or not?”

“No, that’s why I’m heading into the office on a Sunday. We’re all trying to figure out our options.”

“Well, I have thoughts.”

Foggy laughs this time. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“I will, however, defer to you on the subject of where to get coffee in this neighborhood,” Matt says.

“Oh, right. Well, actually, if we cross up here—”

Foggy steps forward to gesture in the direction he means before he remembers that it won’t do much good. At the same moment, Matt steps forward too, towards Foggy, and holds out a hand in what looks like a conciliatory gesture. Foggy pauses, waiting to hear his objection or question, and not thinking too hard about how close they are now.

“Could I—that is, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, as we walk, could I hold onto your arm?” Matt asks, and he doesn’t sound embarrassed so much as tired. Foggy gets the sense that he doesn’t like asking for help or relying on people very much. “It makes navigating the sidewalks and everything easier. If not—”

“That’s fine,” Foggy interrupts, feeling only slightly bad that he’s this eager to comply. He’s mostly doing it to be nice, but there is a small part of him that’s excited because a cute guy will be touching him, which feels sort of bad. “I mean, I’m happy to—”

“Thanks,” Matt replies with just a small quirk of his mouth. If he’s noticed Foggy’s eagerness, he’s not calling it out, which is kind of him.

“Do you…know where my arm is?” Foggy asks, like a moron, making Matt laugh.

“It’s, well, it’s in this general vicinity, right?” Matt’s middle finger ends up jabbing into Foggy’s stomach, which is ideal, of course. Now Matt knows he doesn’t have abs of steel, a thing he was definitely going to pretend to have until directly contradicted. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Foggy says, and just grabs Matt’s hand to get it over with. It’s not important or monumental in any way—they shook hands yesterday, so it’s not even the first time they’ve touched—but his pulse starts to race nonetheless. He places Matt’s hand on the crook of his elbow as quickly as he can without making it weird. Except that now he’s trying to remember the last time he held hands with someone and upon consideration, he thinks it’s been a while, which makes him sad to think about.

“That’s my elbow,” he says, stupidly, because anything else he could say at this moment would somehow be more embarrassing, which is impressive.

Matt laughs, just a little huff of amusement, but his eyes crinkle adorably again and that’s good enough. “I figured that out,” he says. “Thank you, though.”

“Right. Um, so as I was saying, if we cross the street here, I know a place only a few blocks away. Hopefully, it won’t be too busy on a Sunday morning for us to get a table.”

“Okay,” Matt says, nodding. “I’ll follow your lead.”

“Great,” Foggy says, but doesn’t move. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, not sure where this temporary immobility is coming from. “I, uh, I’ve never done this before.

“Gotten coffee?”

“No, uh, that I’ve done, actually, if you can believe it," Foggy says, with a laugh. "I’ve never led someone before? I just don’t want to make you trip or anything.”

“It’s just an extra precaution,” Matt explains, calmly. This is probably something he explains a lot, Foggy realizes with some amount of shame. “I can get around fine on my own, but especially someplace new, this helps.”

“Should I point out obstacles or something? Does that help at all?”

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Matt says with a smile that might be at his expense. In which case, Foggy thinks, it is fully worth it. It’s a good smile.

“Yeah, sorry, I just—”

“You can point things out, that’s fine, but I trust you won’t lead me into any open manholes or anything like that.”

“That’s a lot of trust, man,” Foggy says, and Matt laughs. “I mean, you’re talking to someone who loves some Looney Tunes shenanigans.”

“Well, then I guess if someone paints a wall to look like a train tunnel, we’re both in a lot of trouble.”

“I’ll try to be strong,” Foggy says, “and vigilant.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Foggy realizes this is probably the moment they need to actually start walking, otherwise they’re just two guys who have linked arms outside of a church. He moves hesitantly in the direction of the crosswalk, tugging Matt gently along with him, and it doesn’t feel anywhere near as awkward as he was expecting. It just feels nice.

“You see?” Matt asks, leaning against his arm. “It’s just like walking with a person!”

Foggy digs his elbow into Matt’s side in retaliation, which just makes him ping-pong away from him before bouncing back, already laughing. “Have all the fun you want,” Foggy says. “Just remember, your life is in my hands.”

“And how very capable they are,” Matt says, mildly, still grinning.

Foggy feels himself blush and he’s very thankful at this moment that Matt probably can’t tell. It’s the only advantage he has in this situation. Naturally, of course, he decides to cancel out that advantage immediately by saying something stupid.

“By the way, this is what I normally smell like,” he says, as they wait for the walk signal.

Matt raises his eyebrows at him. “Oh?” he says, while giving nothing away, like a total bastard.

“There’s a lot of good reasons not to take a meeting straight off of a fifteen hour flight, it turns out,” Foggy says, trying not to die of embarrassment. Maybe Matt hadn’t noticed. He thought he’d just been too polite to say anything. “I want it on the record that I, you know, shower regularly and wear deodorant and everything.”

“Noted,” Matt says with another cryptic smile. He might even inhale a little bit deeper, though Foggy might be imagining that.

“Fine, I might even smell a little better than normal. But that’s all you’ll get out of me!”

So what if he had put on cologne that he usually forgets to wear? It was a drop if it was anything. And he only did it because of what a clusterfuck yesterday had been. He’d felt he had something to prove to Matt after that conversation went so poorly.

Matt, of course, seems to be enjoying himself immensely. “I’m impressed,” he says, as they cross the street. “If you’re willing to go to these lengths for the likes of me, I can only imagine what you’d do for someone important.”

He doesn’t mean it like that, Foggy reasons. It wasn’t intended to make him sound like, well, a bit of a whore, but it lands like that, for whatever reason. Like he’d been strategically deployed by his superiors to smooth things over, to butter Matt up to avoid burning a bridge they might want to cross someday. But, as much as he’d love to slather him in butter right now, that is not the case and, unfortunately, it’s also not a way that Foggy’s allowed to think about this person.

“You’re important,” he says, after a moment’s pause. “We’re fucking democrats, Matt. Our whole thing is that we think everyone is important, right? And, even if you somehow weren’t, I’d still be here. Even if no one asked me to be.”

“I didn’t mean to imply—”

“Of course not,” Foggy says, more breezily than he feels. “But my point still stands. I know all this stuff with the DNC is discouraging, but don’t let it sour you on all this. You could very well be the future of the party.”

Matt laughs, nervously. “I don’t know about that.”

Foggy shrugs, which he trusts Matt can feel. “I’ve been told I have good instincts for this kind of thing.”

“Now that I can believe,” Matt says.

When Foggy turns to look at him, he finds Matt already regarding him with interest. He thinks again of his conviction from earlier that this is no irrelevant run-of-the-mill meeting—one of dozens he'll take this week, and hundreds he'll take this year—but rather the beginning of something important. He feels certain that this won't be the last he sees of Matt Murdock and wonders if the same thing is going through Matt's mind too as they walk together. If he's willing to be honest with himself, he can admit that's not just something he suspects will be true; it's something he hopes will be true too.

🏳️‍🌈 💖

#i don't enjoy formatting fic for tumblr but it's part of the posting process for me #in case some people prefer to read here #anyway please enjoy and happy pride to whatever these two got going on #daredevil #foggy nelson #matt murdock #karen page #matt x foggy #mattfoggy #ship names remain my mortal enemy when it comes to tagging #whatever yall call it...it's them....the BOYS #the west wing au #this is my first non-prompt fill fic in literally so long i've forgotten how i format this stuff normally #homelywenchsociety #that’s my writing tag! don’t worry about it!#series: a more perfect union

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