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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years

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soriel, 1 (chocolate) for the ask game?

Like a Box of Chocolates

Rating: G Word Count: 2734 Read on AO3: here

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"Ok. I brought a few choices," Sans said while sitting with his back to the door. He pulled a plastic sack full of chocolate and chocolate-adjacent treats out from under his shirt.

"Oh, you did not have to do that." The voice behind the door sounded embarrassed.

"It's no big deal." He shrugged instinctively, though she wouldn't be able to see it. "Not like I candy things like this for you very often."

The lady laughed, even though the pun was a stretch. She was a great audience like that.

"I cannot argue with that. After all, it is the choco-thought that counts."

Sans let out a wheeze. Man, she had him beat in the bad jokes department. He needed to up his game.

"What can I say, I'm a sweet guy." That joke would work better if she could see his wink.

"You certainly are, my friend."

Sans blinked. He hadn't been prepared for the genuine warmth in her voice. Now he felt something like a melted chocolate himself.

"Uh. You'd better wait and make sure I didn't pick out garbage before you say that." He chuckled nervously and spread out the chocolates in the snow.

"Alright. Hit me with your best choco-shot."

He laughed out loud at that one too. She could really squeeze some mileage out of chocolate puns.

"First off we have the MTT-Brand Chocolate Mettaton. Which is exactly what it sounds like. Chocolate in the shape of everyone's favorite robot superstar." He scanned the back of the wrapper. "Contains sequins and glitter, but it's still monster food, so probably won't cause any more indigestion than Temmie Flakes. Still, wouldn't blame ya if you passed on that."

The lady laughed. "I do not know this 'Mettaton,' but he sounds like someone…"

Her voice trailed off, the way it always did when she neared a personal topic. It seemed to be happening more and more often lately. Sans didn't know if that was a good sign, or if he needed to do a better job of distracting her.

"Someone I know would have liked that," she finished clumsily.

"Welp. It's yours, then." He attempted to slide it under the door.

Attempted. The thick block of chocolate wouldn't fit through the narrow space.

"What are my other options?" The lady asked, not seeming to hear his failure.

(Or just ignoring it. The way they always ignored things they didn't want to acknowledge.)

Oh well. He'd deal with that later, if she wanted to.

He picked up the next box and rattled it. It looked thin enough to fit under the door.

"I think this one's called, uh, pocket?” He couldn’t tell for sure, since the box was labeled in a language he didn’t recognize. Where did Alphys get this stuff? “A pal gave it to me. They’re like chocolate-covered sticks, I think."

"Not precisely what I was looking for, but I would love to try it regardless," she said. "If I am allowed to have both options, I mean. If not, I should probably stick with the Em-Tee-Tee."

Sans bit back a snort. So she hadn't heard after all. That made this a lot more awkward.

"Do you wanna hear the other options first? Wouldn't want ya to have any regrets."

"Oh! There are more?"

She sounded as surprised as a kid finding an extra fry in the bottom of their Grillby's bag. He couldn't help grinning.

"Yup. Next up is a chocolate spider donut—”

“Made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders?” The voice seemed on the verge of laughter again.

His eyesockets widened. “Uh… welp. Guess you don’t need the whole spiel, huh?”

“There is a spider bakesale right around the corner from my home,” the lady explained. “I believe they are saving for a… ‘heated limo’? To travel safely through Snowdin. I wish I could help them, but I did not think to take much gold when I…”

Another dead end. That was fine, Sans could piece together enough. Not that her personal life was any of his business, anyway.

“If it makes ya feel any better, they really raked me over the coals for this one.”

“It does not!” came her quick reply. “I only asked for a chocolate bar. Not for you to spend money that you need on me.”

Geez, this lady was too good for him. As if Sans ever really went out of his way for anyone.

Except Papyrus, but he was family. And sometimes Grillby, if he felt bad about failing to pay his tab for too long. And Alphys, but he owed her for screwing off after space-time blew up in their faces.

And now, the lady behind the door. The lady he didn’t owe anything to, except a few good laughs.

Who was he kidding? Those laughs were more important to him than anything.

“Eh, it just cost me one day of selling ‘dogs. Donut worry about it.”

“Very well. Since it was for a good cause, I will not grill you any further. But please tell me that was the last chocolate you purchased for me.”

“It’s the last one I purchased.” He grinned. While she couldn’t see his expression, she must have heard the but in his voice.

“Please tell me you did not steal any chocolate for me.”

“Geez, lady, what do you take me for? I’d never commit petty thievery.”

“Well, that is reassuring.”

“Yep. Gotta save room for the real high-dollar crimes. Like the illegal hot dog stand.”

The voice behind the door went silent. He wished he could see her face now more than ever. His own grin slowly slid from his skull.

“Everyone knows about it,” he reassured her. “If the King really wanted to shut me down, he’d have done it a long time ago.”

“Oh, I am not judging you for that. I am sure the law is rigged against you if the King has any say in it.” Her voice was surprisingly bitter.

His real problem was that he couldn’t ever find the necessary documents to get licensed in food preparation. His birth certificate was presumably in whatever alternate dimension his old man had blasted them out of.

“You are judging me for something, though,” he realized. The chill of the snow seeped into his bones, but he didn’t dare adjust his position. Somehow he felt that if he moved, she would disappear.

“I am not. I was only thinking about…” She sighed. “It is complicated. There was a time when I could have helped you, but it is long past.”

“Help me? Look, lady, the ‘dog stand is fine. Promise. Better than fine, since I don’t gotta pay taxes on it.”

She chuckled at that.

“Very well. Forgive a silly old lady for worrying.”

“Done.” He smiled, settling back against the door more comfortably.

He should’ve known she’d have a problem with his illegal activities, though. She was a classy lady, and he was… him. Why had he even brought it up? It wasn’t a great joke. Did he really just want her to know?

Eh, whatever. She wasn’t mad, so no harm done, right?

“I would like to know how you acquired this other chocolate, if it was not through your sticky fingers.” She sounded like she was grinning.

“Huh? Oh.” He blinked and dug out the last chocolate of the bunch. Blue dusted his cheeks. “QC—that’s the lady who runs the shop in town—gave ‘em to me for free. They’re called, uh, kisses.”

QC had a knowing look in her eyes when she’d offered the bag of chocolates to him. It was his own fault for implying they were for a girl. Everyone already thought he screwed around in the woods on his shifts, and with the way gossip travelled in a small town, everyone at Grillby’s would be asking about his girlfriend tonight.

“Kisses,” the lady behind the door echoed. “This is not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Not this time. Sorry to disappoint.” His grin felt too tight. “They’re, uh, tiny chocolates. Kinda cone-shaped? QC makes ‘em herself, so they’ve gotta be good.”

“Oh.” Oddly, the voice did sound disappointed. Sans couldn’t imagine why. Not like he could kiss her through the door, even if he had lips. And even if there was some unlikely timeline where she wanted a kiss from him.

He wanted to thump his skull back against the door, but there was no point in worrying her like that.

“In that case, I will take the kisses. They will be perfect for…”

He was sure she would leave it at that. Cover up with some non sequitur.

So his eyesockets went wide when she said, “for the anniversary of my child’s passing.”

“Oh.” He let out a strangled little laugh. “I—geez, I’m sorry. If I’d known—”

“You would have what? Spent even more money on this silly old lady, who cannot even leave to buy her child’s favorite chocolate?” Her voice was firm. “No. I thought you deserved to know, after the trouble you went to, and because you shared your own secret with me today.”

“My ‘dog stand is hardly a secret,” he said, still feeling a little shaky. She had a kid? A dead kid?

Well, who in the Underground didn’t have skeletons in their closet? Metaphorically or literally. She was still his best friend. If she wanted his pity, she would’ve said something sooner.

“Regardless,” she said. “It is in the past. Forget it, if you wish. But please do not treat me any differently.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sincerely. If there was one thing he was good at, it was maintaining the status quo. “So, uh. These chocolates. I kind of wanted you to have all of ‘em, if that’s alright with you.”

“It would be rude to refuse a gift, would it not?” She sounded like she was smiling again, to his relief.

“There’s just one problem. Uh. Don’t think they’re all gonna fit under the door.” He rapped on the stone surface with his knuckle for emphasis.

“I did not assume they would. The recipe I gave you before hardly passed through.”

Sans blinked. “Then you—huh?”

“I will open the door just a fraction. It can only be done from the inside.” She paused, like she was gathering a breath. “I would ask that you do not look. I promise I will not peek, either.”

Sans’s ribcage tightened. She was going to open the door. She would be right there, with no stone between them.

The thought opened a desperate floodgate within him. He hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to see her, to know her, to live off of more than just scraps and unfinished sentences.

She once had a child. She had some kind of beef against the King. She wanted to give charity to spiders, but didn’t have enough money. All these facts he filed away, tucking them into the grooves in his ribcage.

It would be enough. He’d duct tape those gates shut again, if he had to. He wasn’t going to betray the trust she’d shown him.

“Got it. You don’t wanna be smitten by my good looks, I understand,” he joked.

(He had a feeling it would be the other way around, if anything. Not that quality of jokes translated to quality of appearance—he would know. If it did, he’d have biceps like his brother.)

“It would be tragic. Much too high a price for you to handsome chocolate to me.”

“Heh, I’m sure you’re a door-able too. But I’ll keep my sockets shut, since our friendship hinges on it.”

That got a raucous laugh out of her, the kind that started off high-pitched and quickly became something of a snorting bleat. That sound was sweeter than chocolate to him.

...Man, his pals at Grilby’s would be right to dunk on him. He was a massive dork.

“Alright,” she said once she caught her breath, “if you are ready, my friend…”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Better choco-late than never, huh?”

That one only got a snort, but he wasn’t sure if that was because the pun fell flat, or because she was nervous. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been outside of the Ruins in years. And here she was, trusting a sentry—someone whose job it was to keep a look out—to turn a blind eye.

It was a good thing he’d never been good at his job.

Stone ground against stone with a dramatic rumble. His eyesockets stayed shut. Warmth emanated from somewhere near his shoulder, and he lifted the bag of chocolates.

His small hand brushed a large fur-covered one. A shiver trailed down his spine. One small touch shouldn’t have done so much to him, but—but she was real. She was more than just a voice behind a door. Which he knew, but knowing and feeling could be worlds apart at times.

She took the bag, and the moment was over. But the door didn’t close.

“My dear friend,” she whispered, her voice sounding closer than ever. “Would it be presumptuous to ask another favor of you?”

“‘Course not. Glad to do a favor for my favor-ite person.” He kept his tone light, unaffected by the swirling emotions inside him.

“If I could… oh, dear, this is embarrassing.”

He resisted the urge to open his eyes, to see what look might be on her face.

“It has simply been so long… may I hold your hand a moment longer?”

He felt the marrow heating within his bones.

“That all? I gotta hand it to ya, you made me think you needed an arm and a leg.”

She chuckled before awkwardly fumbling to grasp his hand again.

Heat poured from her palm into his phalanges. Aside from the fur, there were several spots of soft skin—probably paw pads. Was she a dog monster, like the Canine Unit in town? She didn’t make nearly enough dog jokes for that to be the case. Her laugh sounded more like a goat’s, but she obviously didn’t have hooves. Maybe she was some kind of chimera? You didn’t see those often nowadays, but then again, no one saw monsters from the Ruins, either.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice as soft as the snow that began to drift around him.

“Not disappointed?” He asked, only half-joking. “My hand can’t be as comfy as yours.”

“Ah, but it is all your bone. And that is wonderful to me.”

“Geez, old lady.” He was grateful she couldn’t see his blush. “You’re pretty fur-fect yourself.”

When she laughed, her body shook all the way down to her hand. The feeling more than made up for all the G he’d spent on chocolate and donuts.

Suddenly his hand was being lifted up, and then something soft pressed against his knuckles. His soul flared erratically, and his eyes nearly flew open. If they had, he was sure his left eyelight would have been blue from shock.

“A kiss for a kiss,” she said slyly. “It is only fair.”

“Heh heh…” His voice shook with more than laughter. “Technically, that was one kiss for a bag of kisses. Pretty sure that math doesn’t square up.”

“Oh, you are quite right! One day we will have to circle back and rectify that.”

He practically had to cast gravity magic on himself to keep his eyes from flying open.

“You—huh?” He said intelligently.

“Perhaps not soon,” she clarified. “This has all been… a lot, for me. But thanks to you, my dear friend, this day has not been so bitter as I am used to.”

“Uh, no problem, then. With all that chocolate, I hope it’s sweet.”

Sweet as the anniversary of a death could be, anyway. He grimaced. Maybe that joke was too soon, but she just squeezed his hand before finally letting go.

“I do think it will be,” she said softly. “I will look forward to hearing more of your punny jokes tomorrow.”

The door scraped shut, and he hesitantly opened his eyes. He couldn't help inspecting the door to see if anything changed. Pressing his still-warm hand against the smooth stone.

“Heh. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He grinned.

Then he tucked his hands in his pockets, where her kiss remained like a tattoo on his bone.

#tali writes #safeutdr #soriel #sans #toriel #fic tag #very happy with how this one turned out :D #hope you like it and thanks for the request!#prompt requests

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spacewizardtrek · 3 years

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WARNING: This post will ruin you. Like Medusa; look at your peril.

But here is is. It’s the one you’ve all been waiting for.

Kirk bod appreciation #7: The RIDICULOUSLY BEAUTIFUL FACE. A highly technical and academic review.

This is a rather nebulous one. And not, on the face of it (pardon the pun) very philosophical, as it’s essentially about Kirk being stupidly pretty. This post probably will (it will) descend into just screaming and sobbing, but there will be, I promise, *some* meaningful insight into the meaning of ‘beauty’ and textual analysis of its role herein.

Beauty is subjective. But look at him. It’s not just being aesthetic, but it’s the *way* he’s aesthetic. Here I might repeat myself a bit, but stay with me. I may have mentioned before once hearing him described as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is PRETTY. He is indeed often conveyed in the way the women stereotypically (not necessarily rightly) are on screen: perfect, smooth skin; soft, big eyes; luscious lips (his body is sensually curvaceous and furthermore it’s emphasised). He’s not androgynous though. He’s masculine. And yet I still sense what was meant in describing him as ‘beautiful in the way women are often described as beautiful’. He is a rather uncommon form of gender fuckery. He is a form of stereotype-subversion not commonly acknowledged. He seems to be everything at once, ALL THE GENDER; combines whichever traits he desires from those categories, and yet is undeniably a man and masculine whatever the ingredients. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE, one might wonder. The fact of the matter is, that it IS. And it teaches us something.

The FUCK. nO. You are not allowed to be that pretty, and you are NOT allowed to look at her like that. We’re trying to have a SENSIBLE DISCUSSION here.

Sorry, that was a non-sequitur / nothing to do with what we learn by Kirk’s embodiment; I was just ambushed by my own gif. Only the control of a Vulcan. ONLY that could possibly withstand this onslaught. And even that won’t hold up forever AS WE WELL KNOW

God.

This is going well, as you can tell.

OK. So, it’s claimed he has Eyes and Stupidly Long Weakness-Inducing Eyelashes. You know, from all that fanfic that goes on about ‘big, sparkling eyes’ and him fanning his ‘long, copper eyelashes’. I mean, yeah right, tropey mc tropeface -

IT’S TRUE. HE IS LITERALLY AN ANIME PRINCESS.

There are some moments where he just BLINKS and, how to describe it...how does a BLINK have that effect. It’s NOT ALLOWED.

...I’m sorry. It IS allowed. All of it. I am not shaming you your beauty. Never change, Jim. Never.

OK. I’m ok. 3 pics down, we can get through this -

Oh you are joking. Stop.

I don’t understand how anyone can be so beautiful. Life is a lie. Reality is fake -

- you did NOT just turn your big anime eyes on Spock. You do know this is why he ran away to PURGE ALL HIS EMOTIONS?

And for that matter, you know when Kirk looks his most beautiful? Literally WHEN HE’S LOOKING AT SPOCK. Spock talks some bollocks and Kirk just sparkles like a fucking angel:

Unbelievable. But utterly undeniable.

Sigh. Moving on.

Oh - someone once suggested I talk about The Lips. Lips are so wonderful aren’t they. So many wonderful things they can do.

And Kirk’s. They’re there in every picture: perfect, rosy, soft and madness-inducing. My advice is just...don’t think about them. But since I’ve been asked to draw attention to them, well, you’ve just sealed your fate. Scroll down at your peril.

I WARNED YOU.

I am pulling NO punches.

I’ve seen this great meme going around:

Excuse me though....CUTE?

That’s the understatement of the 23rd century.

Try impossibly beautiful, mind and body: heart of solid gold, soul deep in love with you. Those eyes and all their passion burned into your memories a thousand times over, along with - maybe, suggestibly, idk I’m extrapolating from all the goddamn tension - even the one unforgettable time he laid between lily-white sheets and gave himself to you; every gift of the mind, body and soul - and your ostensibly-forced Vulcan conditioning, that completely ignored how incompatible one part of you was with it, caused so much dissonance that you thought the only possible course of action for you both to survive was to BREAK UP, tear yourself from this beauty and love and sweetness to PURGE ALL EMOTIONS because nothing, nothing equipped you for this; you were set up specifically to fail, and fail hard in the face of transcendental love and beauty by those who rejected such things and didn’t understand you and could never imagine this for you and who instead of helping your beautiful neurodivergent brain flourish taught you to repress and caused you pain and shame and Gol was so hard and Kirk was so sad, so very sad and depressed and hurt and yet he couldn’t stop loving you with a bond so strong he called to you across the stars and Gol was all for naught yet you still didn’t know how to live like this, it was torture, torture until the mind meld with the living machine flashed your BIOS and you knew, love.exe was suddenly running with no errors and he came after you and held you and you held hands and, and -

*sobbing*

just...give me a moment

YOU WONDER WHAT THE SUBTEXT (FRIKKIN’ MAIN TEXT) OF STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE WAS ALL ABOUT???

The pain?? The angst?? The two logical entities seeking contact, love, THIS SIMPLE FEELING? That fucking moment when spock walks on the bridge and the only way he can control himself is to be SUPER Vulcan, while his love gazes at him with those EYES, fucking huge and glittering and hurt and loving?? Is it so much a mystery what memories these two are carrying, what’s behind the searing tension???????

Love him. Love him Spock. Take him in your arms and love him. He’s for you. All for you. Fucking hell guys. The fuck. This movie.

ok.

ok I can do this

CAN U NOT

those damn eyes I swear

It’s obviously not all just superficial physical beauty. What IS beauty? Narratively we do sometimes find this ‘prettiness’ enhanced and emphasized like the old vaseline lens to set the tone of a scene (he’s vulnerable and delicate, or someone’s indeed in love with him so we see their ‘lens’ on him); but it is somewhat intangible and nebulous and changeable. I don’t think aesthetic beauty, if one deems it so, on its own, would be enough for the likes of Spock (indeed, no woman could charm him thusly); it's about something deeper. It’s about who he is. Who he is inside: the beautiful AND the imperfect. How his good and bad - how his ‘all’ - chimes with Spock’s 'all’. The Enemy Within deals with this, and shows how Spock loves all of Kirk, wants him complete, with both his light and shadow. The beauty of all of us is this totality and variance, not one intangible quality.

I’ll bet Spock’s parents knew immediately. Can you imagine Sarek trying to be a total bitch over Kirk, having heard the rumours and just wanting to have one more thing to reject Spock over, immediately projecting onto Kirk as some blow-up pretty-boy and how Incredibly More Disappointing My Son Is for being Obviously In Love With Stupid Illogical Human Doll Face Bubble Butt Bimbo Captain, and Amanda’s like, stfu, let me remind you Kirk is actually a Fucking Amazing Highly Decorated Starship Captain who Saves Your Life and don’t you DARE resent him just because he’s got tits/ass/tum/lips that won’t quit and is obviously the freakin’ sun Spock orbits. Mr ‘I married a human but that was special because it was logical’ or some bullshit. How is Kirk an illogical choice? I mean literally, Spock is a Science Genius™ on the federation’s FLAGSHIP whose well-matched Genius Captain™ understands him, accepts him, brings the best out of him, helps him fulfil his whole potential and is in love with him in the deepest and purest way and will be his bonded soulmate for ALL OF TIME and that fucking sour-faced bih at the start of that ep, ffs.

Of course Amanda stays in touch with Kirk, adores the fuck out of him, sends him old Vulcan lit on t’hy’la bonds (yes sarek, a T’HY’LA bond, so revered freakin’ poets write about it) etc because frankly her son could do FAR FUCKING WORSE.

FAR. FUCKING. WORSE.

Don’t...just don’t slip the bod into the equation, the face is enough for one post. We’re all in therapy for this already, let’s not relapse.

Oh, what’s the use. I’m gonna die. This is it. This is like the Monty Python joke that is so funny it kills you. This man is lethal. I need to stop this thread and purge all my emotions

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That’s it. I’m dead. You’re dead. We’re all dead.

I hope, however, seeing this post was worth it. See you at Gol everyone.

The Forbidden Texts, DO NOT READ:

Kirk bod appreciation #6: The Curves. The Front. The...chest. AND THE AMAZING GREEN WRAP

Kirk bod appreciation #5: The Paws

Kirk bod appreciation #4: The Curves. The Back. Poetry in motion.

Kirk bod appreciation #3: Season 3 (Part 1)

Kirk bod appreciation #2b: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #2a: The Gluteus Maximus

Kirk bod appreciation #1: The Tum

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helisol · 3 years

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dude im not sure you will get it after reading this either, but you Can read it now

okay so first of all do not expect me to adhere to rules of grammar or Proper capitalisation, I am writing from the heart

so it’s been said before by other people but if Quark and Odo didnt look like the aliens that they are but instead like two regular prettybois the fandom would do cartwheels over their dynamic and Not call them a crack ship. because really, their dynamic fucking SLAPS and I’m here to tell you Why.

their surface-level dynamic is “Respected and Talented Security Chief and Cunning Immoral Businessman who are in Love but pretend not to be” and that's just an off-brand version of enemies to lovers! which is excellent and for some people that’s all you really need to get invested in a ship.

but some people look at it and go “Hm, no, that’s not enough. I mean, they work as friends but it doesn’t really have to be romantic.” and to that I say you are Absolutely Valid, not everything has to be romantic.

it just so happens that these two fuckers have one of the most compelling romance stories ever, and it’d be a shame not to explore it.

so before I dive into the internalised homophobia and repression, I’d like to take a moment to talk about Quark as a character.

because if you have brainworms like me you can kind of see that its an honest to god greek tragedy.

this guy comes from a race of people where being kind, ethical and fair is considered Abnormal and Horrifying. and I’m not gonna call Quark out of all people kind, ethical or fair but,,,

you ever notice how he’s A Much Better Person Than Pretty Much All Other Ferengi?

dont get me wrong, Quark is still a bastard, but every once in a while his True Character shines through. and I say True Character because guys,,, the way he behaves around other people is an Act. he’s pretending to be something he’s not.

he has to try so hard to be a good ferengi it’s honestly painful to watch at times. because he is a SHIT ferengi!

he loves his friends- because that's what the ds9 crew are. they’re his friends! and it makes him miserable because that's not! normal! for a ferengi!

let’s compare Quark and Rom for a second.

Quark reeks of self loathing because a lot of the time he just Doesn’t act like a ferengi is supposed to, and this drives a lot of conflict in the show. he knows how a ferengi should act, it’s just that he can’t!! fucking!! do it!! but he still tries and tries to fit into that mold, which straight up ruins his life on multiple occasions.

Rom is also not a Model Ferengi, but he lives without hating himself. and it’s mostly because he doesn’t care about how a ferengi Should act, he’s loved and cared for even when everybody knows that he’s a shit ferengi! because his non-ferengi-ness works to his benefit. it encourages and highlights his abilities as an engineer. the success and love he finds make it easy for him to be content with his true self. Unlike Quark, who doesn’t get unconditional love from anyone.

its so!! tragic!! because you can see what Quark is really like!! his true self!! he’s a nice guy who cares for people!

its right there all the time and it's so blatantly obvious. especially in episodes like “Body Parts”, “Bar Association”, “The Way Of The Warrior” and “Ferengi Love Songs”

his own wiki page literally calls him “a compassionate and generous man by ferengi standards” which pretty much translates to “not really a good ferengi”.

anyway so Quark is a tragic figure or whatever but we’re actually here for the REPRESSED! HOMOSEXUAL! TENDENCIES! that he and Odo both exhibit.

with characters like garak you don’t really need to have brainrot to pick up on those tendencies, because that was something andrew robinson chose to do, on purpose.

and to be fair, Quark wasn’t intended to be Any kind of representation, not even by the actor. I’m just pointing out that he Does look and act and talk like a little gayman.

I will admit that he is Painfully Straight in the text of the show, but on a meta level he’s just. a dude who has a serious case of repressing his real personality. and taking it a step further- he also represses his feelings towards another man.

and that man is Odo.

a few things on him:

Odo is literally desperate to be a person. unlike Quark, who at least has the comfort of belonging to a society of people with a set of rules and expectations, Odo has never met anyone or anything like him in all his years of life.

like, we all know Odo basically grew up in a lab, right?

with people who didn’t know anything about him. who he was so unalike that they literally called him “Nothing”

but he still learned to look and talk and act like them (because if he didn’t he’d feel *pain* which is very fucked up by the way?)

so we know for a fact that Odo wants to be recognised as a person- which is why he tries really hard to conform to the ideals of the society that raised him. instead of exploring his nature as a shape shifter he maintains a humanoid form, picks up a job and creates an entire personality around what he wants to be seen as. but not what he really is.

and that's the thing that causes all the conflict between Quark and Odo. the type of person odo wants to be seen as is the polar opposite of whatever the fuck quark wants to be seen as.

In the same way that Quark acts like a Normal Ferengi, Odo acts like a Normal Security Officer. and in a cruel twist of fate, the Ferengi happens to be the antithesis of the Security Officer.

If you only look at them as the things they act like, and not the things they are, you might say they’re way too different to like each other, right?

but,,, if you think about the fact that they’re both putting on this act,,, this performance of idealised versions of themselves,,, you can see that they are The Same. They Are Both Gay Repressed Loser Aliens Who Try To Act Like Things That They Aren’t!

Imagine you’re Odo.

Imagine that you’re Nothing, because you’re not like anything anyone has ever seen- and because you are Nothing you don’t fall in love with anyone for years and years. since who could love something that isn’t like them at all?

But then one day this Thing shows up in your path and you just hate it. Because it’s not like anything *you* have ever seen. It’s disorderly and looks grotesque and it’s criminal to boot.

It’s all the things you learned would make a “Bad Person” It’s everything you aspire not to be, because if you were any of those things you would BE PUNISHED.

But the trouble is, eventually he’s not an “it” anymore, he’s “Quark” and you see him every day of your miserable little life because you live on the same damn station in space and it’s hard to avoid each other.

He also happens to be one of the only things in your life that are constant. He will never leave because he is stubborn and greedy and you just *hate him so much* that you’re convinced he must be doing all of it to spite you. And yet you also can’t seem to leave him alone.

So Odo Must Hate Quark. everything else is a non sequitur for him. he can’t not hate Quark.

because Quark is, and i’m sincerely sorry to apply christian fucking imagery to this, The Forbidden Fruit.

If he liked quark he’d admit some kind of moral failing. it would be the end of his act. but on the other hand...it might be a good thing, because at least he could have quark.

but Odo can never go through with biting into this apple because the consequences are horrifying to him. he could never have quark because, according to his performance, he would Never like quark to begin with.

and here’s a take for you: Odo's Brand Of Internalised Homophobia Doesn't Stem From Heteronormativity. It Stems From The Fact That He Was Kind Of Assigned Asexual At Birth.

and the show sort of alludes to this, for real! not just subtext! canon! except the writers used the wrong person.

because instead of Odo having these Forbidden Feelings for Quark he has them for,,, Kira.

but since this is My Quodo Manifesto you’ll understand that i am 100% willing to just toss that part of canon out the airlock.

so Odo does canonically have that mindset of “no one could ever love me” for decades he repressed any and all feelings of love to avoid getting hurt. in the show he breaks this cycle of repression when he takes a chance and enters a relationship with Kira. yay?

but we all know that aint it chief. and part of the reason why That Ship Ain’t It is the fact that Quark is Right There. and he is simply the more interesting choice for odo.

he and Odo literally share the same problem and have weird intertwined character arcs! they are both dreadfully afraid of not conforming to the ideal versions of themselves, so they reject everything that could challenge their Performance!

on some fucked up level they hate each other *and* themselves individually. and this hatred makes them reject parts of their real identities for the sake of protecting their image. which. yknow. in gay people. is internalised homophobia!

so you can see that they’re both repressing A Lot even if you view them as Friends, but the most important thing in this kind of romantic dynamic is usually,,, when the characters *stop* repressing.

and the thing is. the thing that Kills Me with these two. They Never Get That Moment. Thats Why You Need The Brainrot To See Them As Romantic.

The Ascent gives us an example of what happens when they both take their act too far. I mean, who could forget “Fascist!” and “Fraud!” That is what odo thinks of quark’s performance and vice versa, but we don’t really hear them adress the fact that they *are* playing these roles to a ridiculous extent.

We also never get an example of what would happen if they dropped their act instead of over-performing it. or rather we don’t get to see both of them drop it.

And the reason why we never get that moment is because there’s this one key difference between Quark and Odo.

Quark knows that he’s constantly repressing his true nature and his feelings for odo. We pretty much hear him say so in the iconic root beer scene in Way Of The Warrior. he knows that he’s not a good ferengi but he keeps up his act.

So quark is aware enough to feel that sweet sweet self loathing. But Odo isnt self loathing as much as he is just self sabotaging.

and this subtle difference between them is why, at the very end of the show, we get “That man loves me, can’t you see? It was written all over his back!”

this moment is quark dropping his act and asking odo to do the same. he wants to hear a genuine Goodbye from him because they have known each other for Decades and they are Friends. but odo is so unable to express the feelings he’s been repressing all these years. that he self sabotages again and just walks away.

even though this is like. very anticlimactic. considering I just spent 2000 words talking about how Odo and Quark are Most Certainly Gay For Each Other.

The fact that their ending is so Weird is the reason why quodo is so engaging and appealing to me? especially post-canon quodo.

like, the amount of “what if’s” this ship has are Astounding.

What if either of them had dropped their act a little sooner? What if they both did, for just a moment, and it was the straw that breaks the camels back?

What if Odo comes back after a few years? What if Quark comes to get him?

What if, in that moment in the finale where Quark drops his act, Odo had returned the gesture? What if Gag-Reel Quodo Kiss.gif Real?

with the depth that I read into their relationship, those what ifs are really fun to think about.

anyway its 1 am and i’m not an english major so literary analysis is not like, my strong suit. plus most of this was written in a late night screaming session with a friend who has the exact same opinions as me. i just think aliens hot and in love. thats all.

#the SOUND of my HEAD hitting my DESK with TERMINAL VELOCITY #quodo #star trek

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cto10121 · 3 years

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The bad Shakespeare takes keep coming, I see. This one had the cleverness to couch itself as a personal narrative (makes it much more interesting, tbh). But as bad Shakespeare takes are my bread and butter, my boon and bane, mamma mia here we go again, with Merchant of Venice.

“But those who thought the play was irredeemably antisemitic were, the consensus went, vulgar and whiny—and, completely coincidentally, they were also Jewish, which somehow magically invalidated their opinions on this subject.”

I’m glad (is that even the right word?) this author found scholars that don’t think this play is anti-Semitic, but my experience with scholarship has been way more mixed than that. Suffice to say, this is literally all the play is known for these days, and views of the play as anti-Semitic are everywhere (Rosenbaum even had a hot take that since the Nazis liked it, it must be anti-Semitic). Didn’t know Harold Bloom thinks this play is anti-Semitic, though. That in itself is a bit of a red flag, as Bloom is a notoriously poor reader of Shakespeare.

“[I]n Merchant, Portia unhappily fulfills her father’s requirements of her suitors, while in Il Pecorone, the lady enjoys drugging her suitors and robbing them blind. By removing this detail, Shakespeare removed the suggestion that malicious schemers come from all walks of life.”

Or, by removing this detail, Shakespeare removed the clear and abhorrent sexism of his original source that turned a woman robbed of her autonomy by her father’s will into a criminal. It’s almost as if you’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

“Dr. Lopez, one of the most respected physicians of the 16th century, had indiscreetly revealed that he once treated the Earl of Essex for venereal disease. The earl took revenge by framing Dr. Lopez for treason and arranging for his torture; while on the rack, Dr. Lopez “confessed”—though “like a Jew,” as the court record states, he denied all charges at trial, while the attorney for the Crown referred to him matter-of-factly as “a perjuring murdering traitor and Jewish doctor.”

This is a very twisted account of the Lopez affair and Essex’s motives in going against him, at least to my understanding. For context, Lopez was accused of receiving loads of money from the King of Spain to poison Queen Elizabeth.

According to Stephen Greenblatt, in Will of the World: “Essex had tried some years before to recruit Lopez as a secret agent. Lopez’s refusal—he chose instead directly to inform the queen—may have been prudent, but it created in the powerful earl a very dangerous enemy. After his arrest, he was initially imprisoned at Essex House and interrogated by the earl himself. But Lopez had powerful allies in the rival faction of the queen’s senior adviser William Cecil, Lord Burghley, and his son, Robert Cecil, who also participated in the interrogation and reported to the queen that the charges against her physician were baseless.” Lopez apparently had been taken bribes from various sources, and confessed (freely? under torture?) “that he had indeed entered into a treasonous-sounding negotiation with the king of Spain, but he insisted that he had done so only in order to cozen the king out of his money.” Weird.

Greenblatt isn’t a historian, though, and Essex was indeed an asshole to Lopez, (and for what is worth, I feel Lopez was innocent; I just get those vibes) but so far I can find no other source that Essex actively framed Lopez. Most likely he did some sleuthing, dug up some questionable, compromising stuff, and tried to blow a hearth flame into a firestorm.

“After all, the historical record gives Queen Elizabeth a cookie for dawdling on signing Dr. Lopez’s death warrant; her doubts about his guilt even led her to mercifully allow his family to keep his property, not unlike the equally merciful Duke of Venice in Shakespeare’s play.”

Again, Lopez had powerful allies (doesn’t get much higher than Burghley), and again, re: Greenblatt: “According to court observers, Elizabeth gave Essex a tongue-lashing, ‘calling him rash and temerarious youth, to enter into a matter against the poor man, which he could not prove, and whose innocence she knew well enough.’” A cupcake, then?

“And it is of course entirely unclear whether this trial and public humiliation of an allegedly greed-driven Jew attempting to murder an upstanding Christian, rapturously reported in the press with myriad antisemitic embellishments, had anything at all to do with Shakespeare’s play about the trial and public humiliation of a greed-driven Jew attempting to murder an upstanding Christian—which Shakespeare composed shortly after Dr. Lopez decomposed. Most likely these things were completely unrelated.”

Nearly all the major Shakespeare biographies and articles I’ve read literally and explicitly talks about the possible influence of Lopez’s execution on Merchant of Venice and names it as an inspiration: Greenblatt, (he even headcanons that Shakespeare watched the execution!) Bate, Ackroyd. That’s how Horn managed to ping my BS radar something awful—because I had read about it, many times, even if it was mentioned in passing. It’s solid, legit Shakespearean academic fanon. The sarcasm is really unwarranted, and childish besides.

“It was damned hard to hear the nuance while parsing lines like “Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnal,” or “My master’s a very Jew; give him a present, give him a halter,” or explaining what Shylock meant when he planned to “go in hate, to feed upon / The prodigal Christian.”

The first two are the fool’s, Lancelot’s, lines, I think. As for Shylock’s hatred toward Christians, while ugly, it’s entirely understandable given the Christian characters’ treatment of him pre-play and during it (Antonio spitting on Shylock’s gaberdine and then asking him to borrow money from him is called out by Shylock himself for its sheer hypocrisy). It also fits Shylock’s character as an unassimilated Jew, resenting Christian hypocrisy and racism.

“The actor began the brief soliloquy that every English-speaking Jew is apparently meant to take as a compliment: ‘I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? . . . If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?’

“Wait, that’s the part where he’s more human?”

[…]“Sure,” I told my son, game-facing him back in the rearview. “He’s reminding us how he’s like everyone else. He’s a normal person with normal feelings.”

My son laughed. “You seriously fell for that?”

[…] “What do you mean?”

“Shylock’s just saying he wants revenge! Like, ‘Oh, yeah? If I’m a regular human, then I get to be eee-vil like a regular human!’ This is the evil monologue thing that every supervillain does! ‘I’ve had a rough life, and if you were me you would do the same thing, so that’s why I’m going to KILL BATMAN, mu-hahaha!’ He’s just manipulating the other guy even more!”

And then the crowd applauded, Harold Bloom cried, and the mayor gave the author’s six-year-old son a gold medal for his Brave Hot Take. Honestly, this was the most unbelievable part of the essay I’ve read. Unless this kid has been reading academic essays on MoV that posit this exact same interpretation (“Shylock was just using humanistic rhetoric to justify his ~bloodthirsty revenge!”), this one’s for a fake Internet stories anthology. Shylock may be a dour, miserable pain in the ass, but he is no Barabas, an actual anti-Semitic caricature—he has a character, and a recognizably human one, and the play bears it out that he is right in his anger.

“I reviewed the other moments scholars cite to prove Shylock’s “humanity.” There were two lines of Shylock treasuring his dead wife’s ring, unlike the play’s Christian men who give their wives’ rings away. But unlike the other men, Shylock never gets his ring back—because his daughter steals it, and becomes a Christian, and inherits what remains of his estate at the play’s triumphant end.”

Er, this is a non sequitur—that last has nothing to do with the first. The point is, Shylock doesn’t give away his ring; the fact that his daughter stole it means nothing to his treasuring it. It may be proof of the play’s marginalization of Shylock (which accurately if sadly reflects real-life systematic marginalization), but not his humanity. Shakespeare just doesn’t do backstories, even for major characters, so it is significant that he gave Shylock a wife/beloved in the first place.

“Finally, scholars point to the many times Shylock explains why he is so revolting: Christians treat him poorly, so he returns the favor. But for this to satisfy, one must accept that Jews are revolting to begin with, and that their repulsiveness simply needs to be explained.”

This makes absolutely no sense at all. If one accepts Jews are inherently revolting, then no explanation need be given for when a Jewish character acts revolting! The racist accepts the revolting Jewish characterization without qualm. The fact that the play insists on his grievance is significant.

“We listened together as Shylock went to court to extract his pound of flesh; as the heroine, chirping about the quality of mercy, forbade him to spill the Christian’s blood as he so desperately desired; as the court confiscated his property, along with his soul through forced conversion; as the play’s most cherished characters used his own words to taunt and demean him, relishing their vanquishing of the bloodthirsty Jew.”

YMMV, but to me there are no cherished characters in this play. That’s the whole point! Everyone is so mired in this dreary capitalist materialism that denigrates genuine human connection into mere transaction. Everything to these characters is money, money, money (and class), or at least tainted by it. Shylock is simply the most overt (and honest) of the lot. Love relationships, religion are impoverished; Portia and Bassanio are scarcely more suited than Portia and her other suitors. Shylock and Antonio are Jews and Christians in-name-only: They are capitalists first and foremost. Portia is a smarter, more likable Karen. Lancelot isn’t funny. Jessica is okay, but her leaving her father is framed as a asshole moment at least in one instance. Portia is probably the most lovable, but she has her asshole moments too. There are no truly awful characters, but you don’t need to demonize and dehumanize your whole cast into two-dimensional racists just to make a point.

Merchant of Venice is not the best of plays. It is one of Shakespeare’s experiments, a proto-problem play before his Jacobean era, using dark comedy and a slight bent of farce to explore and elucidate social issues, racism and discrimination, chiefly. At least it tries, anyway. Taming of the Shrew is the first proto-problem play done completely farcical, which at least makes it compelling in a slapstick-satire way; Merchant is much more sociologically astute, but also more dull and coolly distant even from its own concerns. I don’t blame anyone, much less Jewish people, for not liking the play or thinking it a masterpiece. I myself don’t, though for reasons that have nothing to do with the usual ones. I like what Shakespeare was trying to do and I think he did some things very well. It has ambition and thought. But I feel like for most of it Shakespeare was on writing autopilot while mentally looking around for something a bit meatier to adapt and develop. It’s a jogging-in-one-place play; he has a couple of those.

In sum: Author argues for complicated play’s anti-Semitism, ends up just saying the racist slurs by the flawed/asshole Christian characters made her and her son uncomfortable (feat. A distorted and even misleading account of the Lopez affair). Plus some internalized anti-Semitism to sort through, methinks.

#the merchant of venice #shakespeare #cristina metas #shakespeare meta #kind of #cristina reviews #also kind of #merchant is not even one of my liked plays but these takes are just wearying

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tigerdrop · 3 years

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i have a lot of trouble writing benrey in my fics— how did you experiment with his characterization until you were satisfied with it, and what other benny interpretations do u enjoy from other fic writers? i love the way you write him, his dialogue feels so authentic and believable.

AW thank u......it always makes my day to hear something nice about the way i characterize ppl......there were a lot of things i did to try to nail how he talks and thinks. thank u for asking this b/c i have a Lot to say about this subject

the first thing is, obv, watching the series. i have to include this one b/c i feel like quite a few ppl in this fandom.....like.....havent. there is a certain way of characterizing him as an Epic Mischievous Gamer that is, uhhh, very much a fanon thing that ppl see on tumblr and imitate and flanderize all to hell. but, like, im an obsessive little weirdo who will rewatch things over and over again to take notes on characters’ behavior and dialogue and i really gotta recommend just sitting back and listening to how benrey talks.

hes not dropping gamer references constantly. hes not making every single sentence out of his mouth some obnoxious quip. hes slow on the uptake and drops conversations entirely if he doesnt care about them. he has never once said “cringe” before and whenever i see a fic that has him doing it multiple times i feel minutes shaved off of my lifespan. the #1 tip i can give here is to not have benrey talking in fucking 2010s gamer lingo every time he opens his mouth. please

(i feel partially responsible for the spread of this kind of characterization. my first 2 fics have him doing stuff like that every once in awhile. sometimes i debate going back and changing them, but like, benrey saying “poggers” one time aside, i think they hold up pretty good. so i havent. something something historical accuracy)

the more i wrote about him, the more i tried digging into the aspects of his character that i found the most appealing. some people are really into his polite side. i am really into his bullying side. so i would watch the bits where benrey really has his “gordon bullying” mode cranked up to 11 and make note of how he acts, how he talks. trying to replicate it. “benrey saying epic random shit to piss gordon off” is much less his vibe than, like, demeaning gordon, and i feel like the bathroom skit is the ultimate manifestation of this. it is genuinely my favorite bit in the whole series b/c its so ideally representative of their weird-ass dynamic. this fuckin high school bullying LARP in the middle of a public restroom. god in heaven

the less you lean on the crutches of “gamer lingo” and “wacky non-sequitur”, the more it forces you to think about how he behaves. what motivates him. and generally, like, he operates on his own wavelength. he doesnt fully understand everything thats going on around him and selectively chooses what he tunes into. and, most importantly, he just wants to play games, man. benrey likes goofing off with the science crew and playing mind games with gordon. he fails to understand the gravity of his actions a lot of the time b/c hes not human, and hes not operating under the same social guidelines.

(this is the part where people like to speculate exactly what kind of non-human he is, and i think this can be helpful for setting up his motivations! me, personally, i am of the opinion that hes just a video game guy made real. kind of like a live-action cartoon character. so hes operating on video game logic a lot of the time, and doesnt grasp that consequences for actions are different for normal people who cant noclip or respawn. a kind of lack of empathy that manifests in him being capricious, indifferent, detached......purely oriented around “getting his job done” and “chilling” and, naturally, “fucking with gordon freeman“.)

ultimately it boils down to distilling just what i like out of their interactions and trying to Manifest it repeatedly. i go crazy about their actual canon interactions and i want to write things that hit the notes i like: two guys who are mutually kind of obsessed with one another, for better or worse, and engage in a lot of play fighting (and, you know, genuine fighting, too) as a sublimation of it. best frenemies, if you will.

i think that a lot of the problems people have in writing benrey is that they kinda just project whatever attributes they want in a lover onto him. like, man, i like cute shit as much as the next guy, but do you really think that the dude who bullies gordon freeman while hes having a panic attack is gonna tenderly stroke gordons hair and wipe his tears and tell him that everythings gonna be okay? no, dude. even when benrey expresses any kind of concern, he does it in a way that communicates that he doesnt understand the gravity of whats going on and he doesnt “get” why gordons lying on the ground yelling, or why gordons howling in pain after getting his arm cut off. he is not an empathetic guy. hes actually kind of a creep!!! a lil freakjob! the weirdness and the lack of humanity are what make him hot!!!!

and this is what makes it own so hard on the rare occasions he does show empathy! its the same reason why its so cute when gordon stops bitching for 0.5 seconds and tries to be nice! theyre earned moments, not character defaults. and cutesy/lovey-dovey shit with these two is definitely doable, but i would love to see more of it take into account the fact that these are two dudes who fucking suck and who especially suck at being emotionally open with each other.

as far as characterizations that i really like........okay. full disclosure. the biggest reason ive been losing my shit over the catmaid freemind fic is b/c the author is one of the few people who really taps in to what i like about benrey, and what i like about his relationship with gordon. hes teasing. he likes to use his perceived authority to bully people. hes weirdly protective of gordon. but hes also just, like, a chill dude who wants to play video games. and he legit likes gordon and expresses affection for him in some of the most in-character ways ive ever seen

like. deliberately spilling milk on the couch and flatly going like “oops.” b/c he wants gordon to sleep in his room......playing nurse by doing fuck-all apart from giving gordon powerade while hes sick and keeping the volume on his video games low......kicking barmey under the table for making fun of gordon being dogboyed.......it is all exceptionally cute shit and its delightfully in-character. i feel so bad for the author b/c im a frenrey head and i am primarily reading it for those two. but god they do it so well.......im hooked. im obsessed

thank u again for asking this and for the lovely compliment ^q^ i hope this answered your question......i have spent entirely too much of my life thinking about my favorite half life funny guy

#asky #careposting

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banditthewriter · 4 years

Text

Eye of the Hurricane - Charles Vane -5

Again, forgot to post this, but here we have it, the end. As I mentioned, I lost steam with this fic. There was gonna be smut and some introspection, but instead we have this. It’s a shorter part, but hopefully it’s worth it in the end.

Thanks for reading.

*gif not mine*

Enjoy!

------

Charles had given you the freedom to roam around the fortress and, the night before notwithstanding, you hadn’t had an issue. A lot of the rooms seemed unoccupied. You stayed away from anywhere you could see or hear the men. Mostly you just wandered a few halls that were connected to areas you already explored.

Finding your way back up to the part that overlooked the bay was easier than you had expected. No one was up there so you were blissfully alone and in the open.

There was a bit of a breeze that helped with the heat from the sun that bore down on the island. You closed your eyes to enjoy the sounds of nature mixed with the distant sounds of the people on the beach.

A chair sat near one of battlements, able to sit there and look down while still protected. A surge of something like confidence—most likely recklessness—rose inside of you as you stared at the stones.

The shoes you wore were ones that had been in your trunk. They were smoother on the bottom, less worn and therefore had less grip. You thought about toeing them off but you couldn’t afford to somehow lose another pair of shoes.

Carefully you stepped onto the chair. It supported your weight easily, but you’d rather not have an accident so you quickly stretched your leg out to step up on the opening of the battlement.

Next was your other foot until you stood completely on the stone of the fortress. There was a raised section on either side of you that you braced your hands on for balance.

It was a far drop. Much farther than you’d anticipated. The sight made you a little dizzy but you stayed where you were.

It wasn’t that you wanted to jump. It hadn’t even crossed your mind. This wasn’t about an escape. At least, not in the literal sense.

So long of being locked away—first on a ship and then in the fortress—you just longed for freedom. It was like taking a walk on the beach the night before your ship left Norfolk. You weren’t running away, you were just taking control of one small aspect, doing one thing that you wanted to do.

From here, you could see so far in all directions. It was scary and new and probably stupid, but it made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. Maybe ever.

“Try not to fall,” you heard from behind you, the appearance of someone else startling you but not making you jump too much.

You glanced over your shoulder at Charles as he stared up at you from a mere foot or so away. His hands were tucked into his belt, every inch of him looking calm and relaxed. Except for his eyes. Those were narrowed on your form as you hovered precariously on the edge of the battlement.

“I didn’t plan on falling,” you admitted as you looked back out at the water. “Would you try to catch me if I did?”

He was silent behind you so you turned to look over your shoulder again. When you met his eyes, you knew what his answer would be before he said it.

“Yes, I would,” he said easily.

You started to turn away, not wanting him to see the beginning of the smile that his words put on your face. As you turned your body, your never before worn shoe slipped on the stone.

There was nothing in front of you as you started to tilt forward. An arm went around your waist and quickly tugged you backwards. At first there was nothing behind you and then you felt your back land against a solid chest, the arm around your waist joined by a second to catch you. Your feet skidded against the stone floor of the overlook, those damn shoes coming off from the impact.

Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest, blood pounding in your ears as you realized how close that had been. A terrified laugh bubbled up in your throat as you turned around to meet Charles’s gaze.

The moment your eyes met his, the laugh melted away. He was staring at you with an intensity that made your mouth go dry and your hands get damp with sweat. He was so close, just a few inches away. And was it just your imagination or was he leaning in closer to you?

He was. You felt the briefest brush of his lips against yours, a tantalizing tease that made you start to lean in towards him as well.

Then you were reminded of the blonde from the night before. With a wince you pulled away, your hand going up to press against his chest.

He murmured your name but didn’t take what you’d been so close to offering. Instead he just stared at you, a question in his eyes.

Why had you pulled away? Why indeed.

“It’s bad enough that you’re the man who kidnapped me,” you began, your voice quivering as you spoke, “but that you would kiss me after what you did last night? With Eleanor.”

Those eyes were somehow both expressive and inscrutable. Or perhaps you just didn’t want to read the confusion in his eyes, because you could hear it in his voice.

“With Eleanor?”

You were able to put a little distance between the two of you although it didn’t escape your notice that his hands simply went from being around you to resting on your waist. It wasn’t enough for your head to be completely unfogged, but it was enough that you were able to put your thoughts to words.

“Yes, with Eleanor. After you had me dragged from your room like the prisoner I am, I know that you met with her. I saw the two of you afterwards,” you explained when it seemed like he wasn’t understanding what you were saying. “I saw that her clothes were… out of sorts.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. His hands didn’t leave your waist but you didn’t think you imagined that he seemed to squeeze you a bit once you had spoken.

“You think I fucked Eleanor last night and then kissed you today?”

Besides his rather crude term, that was exactly what you thought. You hadn’t been aware that it was up for debate. At your curt nod, you noticed the beginning of a grin on his lips.

“She did try to take her clothes off, but I told her not to bother. The reason she wanted to fuck wasn’t about interest or love or even just wanting to take the edge off. She wanted to distract me, to use me to get what she wanted. I wasn’t going to oblige.”

You thought about that for a moment. It was true that the two of them had seemed to be very angry with each other when they walked by your door. Was it possible that what he was saying was true?

The look in his eyes made your heart speed up a bit. You didn’t think he’d lie to you, for whatever that was worth. He’d been honest with you so far, hadn’t he?

The hand that you still had pressed against his chest eased up just a little, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt so that you could pull him slightly closer. You wished you could be more bold, but even that little move made your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest.

That’s alright though. Charles must have read the acceptance on your face before he used that grip on your waist to pull you closer, his grin the last thing you saw before his mouth was pressed to yours fully.

Kissing Charles Vane was a lot like standing on the edge of the battlements. Only this would be an even worse fall.

------

You traced your fingers around the brand on Charles’s chest gently, a caress more than anything. He peered down at you with one eye, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards as he did. His arm wrapped around your bare waist and tugged you a little closer to him.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he playfully warned as he leaned in to nip at your bottom lip.

As much as you would love to roll over and let him have you again—and you would love it, very much so—you couldn’t help the questions that swam in your head. Questions you knew you needed to ask now before you lost the courage.

Or before you were successfully distracted by his seduction techniques.

“What happens next?” You looked up and caught the playful glint in Charles’s eye. You rolled your eyes before you clarified, “The men you sent to give the ransom note to my parents will be back soon. What happens if they agree to pay?”

His hand went up until he could cup your cheek, angling your face to look at him.

“You can go if you want. I won’t keep you prisoner here.”

You covered his hand with yours, propping yourself up onto your other elbow so that you could look down at him beneath you.

“And what if I don’t want to go?”

His hand tugged you forward a bit. When you gave in to him, all he did was pull you down for a kiss.

“Do you want to stay here in Nassau or,” he added in a low voice as his trailed his lips over your cheek and to your ear to whisper, “do you want to stay here with me?”

You gasped but the noise was stolen away from you as he surged up to kiss you once more, rolling the two of you until you were on your back and he was on top of you, fitting between your legs like he lived there.

“Both,” you finally admitted when he pulled back long enough to let you catch your breath.

“The sea is a dangerous place,” he said as he stared down at you, his face unreadable. It was a bit of a non-sequitur until he spoke again. “Perhaps the men never make it back to Nassau. Or perhaps the ship you’re to return on is lost at sea. There’s a lot that can happen in the distance between Nassau and Norfolk.”

That was it. As simple as that, you could disappear into a new life. Here on Nassau you wouldn’t have to worry about what your parents would consider proper or how your brother would do better than you. You wouldn’t have to worry about being forced to marry a man you didn’t know, didn’t love. You could have freedom here.

It was like everything else fell away. You ignored the heat from the fireplace that raged beside you. You ignored the sound of Nassau and the water that could barely be heard through the window. You ignored the ache between your legs from the last few hours with Charles.

Everything fell away besides the man above you. His eyes were heavy lidded as he stared down at you, but crystal clear. He knew what he was offering.

He had made a name for himself here in Nassau and out there in the world. Captain Charles Vane, infamous pirate.

And here he was offering you a part of that. A part of him. Maybe you would never sail the seas with him as a pirate, but you could be there for him to come home to. His woman, his safe harbor. If his goal was to make Nassau something new, something bigger than it was, you could be at his side.

With nothing to lose, you leaned up to capture his lips. It was a kiss meant to consume and by god it did. You let it consume you, let him engulf you with the heat and the strength of him. You wanted it as much as he did.

As the world returned to a roar in your ears, you ignored it in favor of focusing on the man on top of you. You had learned that you had the strength and fire to take on the world if it came to that. Charles would be your secret weapon if needed, but you had made the decision for yourself.

Your life, your real life, started now.

Thanks for reading! Sorry it’s not very long.

#charles vane #charles vane x reader #charles vane imagine #charles vane fanfic #black sails imagine #my writing #eye of the hurricane

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bestworstcase · 3 years

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farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 5-6

- mixed feelings about eugene’s first impressions of cassandra here. on the one hand, she did make a snide remark about him being a thief, which must sting when he’s already making an active attempt at self-improvement and attending classes in criminal justice. this isn’t tts eugene - who spends 6-7 months loafing around the palace basking in luxury until cass drags him for being self-absorbed and lazy. this eugene has a work ethic and seems to feel some actual responsibility regarding his new role as rapunzel’s consort. it’s not fair for cass to make a snap judgment about him based on his past and decide to be rude to him because of it.

on the other hand… he and rapunzel did just barge into her space against her will and her subsequent prickliness was reasonable, which eugene doesn’t seem to have any awareness of. and taking into consideration the likelihood that this cass is supposed to be about 17 while eugene is an established adult, that isn’t a fun vibe.

- sort of amused by the role reversal of eugene, in the licensed fanfic cassunzel s1 au, is the one who introduces rapunzel to the library. i guess the key to unlocking rapunzel’s romance option is to not show her the books. but also, why is eugene the one showing her around lol

- did he steal from the coronan palace so much that he just knows where everything is

- the dialogue in this chapter is… hm

“You can take these books back to your room if you want,” Eugene said.

“I can?” I said, staring at the stocked shelves around me.

“I think I’ll open a window,” Eugene said. “It’s a little musty in here.”

like what’s going on here? is this a dialogue bug introduced by spot editing that didn’t get patched before publishing? does eugene have adhd? is this a romance novel™ thing to demonstrate that while eugene and rapunzel talk to each other plenty they’re not on the same wavelength to such an extent that raps asks a question and eugene responds with a complete non-sequitur, which will be contrasted with how completely rapunzel and cass ‘click’ together later? hello?

- one point in favor of the romance novel™ theory is that immediately after this eugene conks out instead of sharing in rapunzel’s discovery and exploration of the library and it is implied he is having a fun flynn rider dream ie he’s lost in his own fantasies and oblivious to rapunzel’s. symbolism!

- anyhoo, this is when the plot device of the ‘lost lagoon’ book of poems turns up. i will say that, having spent the better part of my teen years working in an actual library, it beggars belief to say that a book got shoved behind other books in a popular section (sports) by mistake and got left that way for so long that dust blooms out of it when it’s finally cracked open again; likewise, anyone who attempted to intentionally hide the book this way is an idiot. my dude, you are in a palace riddled with secret passageways. maybe hide the secret book there?

like it’s not even well-hidden. rapunzel pulls out one (1) book from the sports section and immediately spots it. which also just feels dumb. like… there’s a million other ways this book could have been hidden. inside another book would have been more believable. rapunzel rips a bone-dry book of census records off the top shelf because she’s insatiably curious about corona’s people and surprise! it’s got this slim little book of poetry crammed inside it. like ??? i know it’s juv fic but make an effort

- coronans canonically speak english according to this i’m die

- rapunzel hides the book from arianna just… because, and i can’t help but feel this is another case of anxiety written by someone who doesn’t quite get it. she’s ‘just not ready’ to share this book of poems that means absolutely nothing to her yet except that she thought it sounded pretty.

but like. this girl grew up with gothel, who made a habit of belittling her interests, thoughts, feelings, and desires. everything rapunzel had she had because gothel deigned to give it to her, and anything she valued could have been snatched away just as easily. in the film it’s made clear that rapunzel hides pascal’s entire existence from gothel, and while the reason for this isn’t spelled out, it’s clear to me that she was afraid gothel might hurt or get rid of pascal should she learn of his existence. so, like. this is all a recipe for rapunzel having this general anxiety about things being taken for her and with this fear being linked to mother figures it makes sense that arianna would tend to trigger it especially. there is a perfectly obvious, understandable reason for rapunzel to be terrified of sharing anything she found by herself and sees value in or is excited about with her new mom, even if she knows rationally that arianna would never take it from her.

as it is, it really comes across more as an arbitrary plot device to keep the lagoon a cassunzel-only thing.

- there’s a lot of odd characterization decisions in this book but i think rapunzel being resistant and reluctant with regards to the idea of having a human companion is probably the weirdest. ??

- arianna feels like she’s characterized the way a lot of fanworks characterize her, i.e. the authorial mouthpiece who (in the case of cassunzel fic specifically) overtly ships cassunzel and does things to facilitate that relationship. don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see her doing stuff at all, but… i dunno, i find this brand of arianna doing things just a little wearying. let her just be her own character.

- implication is that arianna and the captain agreed that cass would be rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting, arianna okays this with rapunzel and then tells rapunzel to announce it to cassandra at this public holiday feast. with no prior warning. wow. i think the kindest possible reading here is that the captain has been telling arianna that cass would be delighted and honored to receive this position and arianna assumes he’ll give cass a heads-up as a courtesy beforehand, but that paints the captain in a pretty bad light on account of him lying and essentially manipulating the queen in order to force his teenage daughter to accept this huge responsibility that she vocally does not want. in any case, absolutely nobody involved in this shitshow gives a damn what cass wants.

- lagoon comes in hard with the saporian!cass symbolism l o l. rapunzel reads a saporian poem out loud, not knowing what it means but loving the sounds, while daydreaming about becoming friends with cass.

- arianna seems to genuinely believe cass will be thrilled to have the lady-in-waiting gig sprung on her, which seems to lend credence to the theory that cap has been talking it up as something cass wants. or the intention here is to paint arianna as an out of touch noblewoman, but i don’t think that’s what howland was going for. i don’t know, it’s an odd conversation.

- eugene calls cassandra “sport” lmfao

- lagoon cass has never read a book in her life, apparently

- i don’t want to keep harping on this too much but it keeps leaping off the page at me; cass’s behavior throughout this dinner scene really just bleeds teenagerhood. eugene and rapunzel both make actual stabs at conversation by asking her about things they know she’s interested in, and cass brushes them off/stonewalls them. in tts, on the other hand, cass is actually pretty open to deep conversations with both rapunzel and eugene—it’s just that they never. ask her about herself. eugene goes 6-7 months before he asks cassandra a personal question in cassandra vs eugene, which if i remember right is the only time he asks her a personal question. rapunzel gets very invested very fast in becoming friends with cassandra, but she does it by strong-arming cass into being her partner in a contest, and when cass decides to open up to her it isn’t in response to rapunzel asking her things. the dynamic is totally different.

- actually now that i think about it - lagoon cass feels a lot like the cranky new dreamer version of cass (you know, the flavor of new dream fans who resent cass for ‘being mean’ to eugene, ‘being controlling’ of rapunzel, and ‘stealing’ eugene’s narrative spotlight). this cass is rude, she does come off as a bit spoiled and very bratty, she is nasty to eugene for no good reason, and while i do sympathize with her on the grounds of her evidently being a child i don’t find her to be especially likable or compelling as a character. if cass acted like this in tts i think the cranky new dreamer contingent of the fandom would have a much stronger leg to stand in - especially if she was still supposed to be 22.

like… this:

“So,” Eugene said, distracting me. “What’s it like to be the daughter of the captain of the guard? You obviously have a thing for weapons.”

“So,” I said.

“Have you been training since you were a little kid?” Eugene pressed on. “Do you have friends in the castle?”

“No,” I said. “Who needs friends?”

“Jeez!” Eugene muttered while Rapunzel whispered with the queen. “I don’t need just any icebreaker here, I need a pickax.”

I rolled my eyes.

this is way more interest in cass as a person than eugene shows in tts… like ever. at this point, eugene has met cass ONCE for a few MINUTES and he already knows more about her than he does in cassandra vs eugene, after six or seven months of frequent contact. yet cass scoffs and gives him monosyllabic answers and radiates way more hostility for way less reason than she displays even in tangled before ever after. i think eugene is totally justified in going, yeesh, what’s this kid’s deal?

- rapunzel goes straight from “i’d like you to be my lady-in-waiting” to “you’re my new lady-in-waiting!” without waiting for cass to answer. and i mean, at this point it is a done deal, queen’s orders and all, so i can’t hold this against rapunzel at all. but man, the adults involved in this decision sure aren’t concerned at all about making sure rapunzel learns how boundaries and consent works.

How was I going to train? How was I going to live the life I was born to live?

Fury heated my blood as I stared down the moon.

heh.

i wonder how much howland knew regarding the planned villain arc, because on the one hand lines like this are drenched in foreshadowing, and she’s done a much better job establishing cassandra’s belief in destiny than tts did. but on the other, had she known about the gothel twist, she would surely have known that cassandra is several years older than rapunzel, and that doesn’t square with how cass… acts.

this is half-remembered hearsay so take it with a grain of salt, but i seem to recall something about cass, in her original conception, being younger than rapunzel (and also aware of her parentage, and secretly villainous all along). could howland have been working from information given to her during the transitional stage between that proto-cass and tts cass? that would explain a lot.

- the last paragraph of 6 is the most effective passage in the book thus far:

This was a decision that had bars around it. I couldn’t protest without falling out of favor with the king and queen, and then there would be no way I’d ever be allowed in the guard. I couldn’t argue my way out of this with my father. A royal assignment was the final word. My fate had been sealed. I fell to my knees and stifled a scream.

#lost lagoon reread #rta #cassunzel

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flowerfan2 · 3 years

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Chapter 9 - David and Patrick open up some boxes and have a difficult discussion.

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him. After a rom-com worthy reunion, David decides he won't walk away again.

Read this chapter here; read from the beginning on A03 here. TW: this chapter contains discussion of depression and past suicidal thoughts.

******

The next morning it’s still raining, and between that and the scrapes on his knees David decides that he’s not going out for a run. He can skip a day when he has to, at least now when his anxiety has relaxed the steel grip it used to have on him.

The gray light peeking through the blinds makes the room feel cozy, and David wiggles a bit under the covers, letting himself enjoy the rare opportunity to sleep in. Of course, it wouldn’t be the same at all without Patrick lying next to him, curled up against David’s side and snoring softly.

David cups his hand around the curve of Patrick’s arm, his fingers tucking under the edge of his t-shirt. Patrick snuffles adorably and strokes his palm down David’s chest. David can tell the moment when Patrick wakes up enough to remember just where he is, and where they are, and his hand stills.

David lays his hand gently over Patrick’s, twining their fingers together and pressing it against his chest. It’s okay, he thinks to himself, and to Patrick. We’re okay.

“Do you remember when we slept on that air mattress?” David asks, the memory coming to him unbidden, something about the act of Patrick waking up a little bit confused prompting it into his brain.

“Hmm, yeah,” Patrick says after a moment, his voice quiet against David’s shoulder. “The first night in my new apartment, before all the furniture came. It squeaked.”

“I woke up every time you turned over,” David says. “And every time, you put your arm back over me and kissed me right through my complaints.”

Patrick blinks his eyes open and gazes at David. “You seemed to like it well enough at the time.”

David hides his smile against Patrick’s arm. “I did.”

Patrick snorts. “Tell me you didn’t do it on purpose.”

David gasps, mockingly affronted. “I would never.”

“Sure.”

“At least, not the first few times.”

They fall into a comfortable silence, David rubbing his thumb along the back of Patrick’s hand as they listen to the rain coming down outside the window. Every once in a while there’s a far off rumble of thunder. David feels like he’s in a little cocoon, safe indoors with Patrick.

“We were really good together, weren’t we?” Patrick asks, unable to keep a twinge of sadness out of his words.

“We were,” David says, shifting so that he can look at Patrick. “And we are.”

Patrick stares at him then, then nods and tucks his face into the crook of David’s neck, his hand grasping tighter at David’s. David marvels at himself, that he didn’t say “we will be” or some other hopeful statement of future possibility. He’s not sure where this confidence has come from, but he clings to it like Alexis to a Prada bag.

It’s not that he thinks it will be easy, merging their lives back together. But he really thinks they can. They already are.

David hadn’t been sure about offering to stay longer here with Patrick. At first he had been waiting for Patrick to ask him; he thought it wouldn’t be right to raise it himself. After all, David was the one that insisted on coming with Patrick, back at the airport when he realized that Patrick was headed to Florida and not to Toronto. He didn’t want to push himself onto Patrick again. He wasn’t certain that his continued presence would be wanted.

But then after a few days together it became clear to David that Patrick was no longer the take-charge guy he used to be, at least not right now. Patrick is hurting, and his self-confidence has taken a beating. He didn’t seem likely to go out on a limb and risk further damage, a concept that David is all too familiar with. So David called in a favor with his assistant, and asked him to send down some of his favorite warm weather clothes, just in case.

He couldn’t be more pleased with how it turned out, Patrick so clearly happy that David isn’t going home yet. And it’s true that David can work remotely, at least for a while. It helps that his boss (ie, his dad) is so invested in the reason David wants to stay in Florida. He’s lucky that Johnny didn’t suggest opening up a satellite office on Patrick’s lanai.

“I’ve never been to therapy,” Patrick says tentatively, pulling David out of his thoughts. “What was it like?”

David almost comments on the non sequitur, then decides it really isn’t one. They need to be able to talk about what each of them have been through these past few years, and if this is Patrick’s way of asking about David, when they’re curled up together under the covers on a rainy morning, he’s not going to question it. It’s not a topic with a natural segue.

“Well, it wasn’t my first rodeo, you know.” He’s about to launch into something humorous, making light of his adolescent struggles, but then he changes course. Patrick is asking seriously, and he deserves a serious answer. He’s fortunate that his latest experience with therapy went as well as it did. “A lot depends on whether you have the right therapist, someone who can push you enough to make progress without making you so pissed off that you stop going.”

“That makes sense.”

“Luckily this time around I did have someone good, on the first try even. A woman in Toronto. I thought I’d hate her at first, she was young and had too many piercings…”

“A therapist with piercings?”

“I know, not the sterotype, right? And she had this one in her eyebrow, it was not a good look for her… but she’s good for me.”

Patrick shifts against David, and David knows without looking at him that he’s got a little frown on his forehead, that’s he’s thinking too much about his next question. “Do you still talk to her?”

“I do. Not on a regular schedule, but every few weeks or month or so, when I have something I want to talk about, or just to check in.”

“Have you talked to her about me? I mean, now?”

Have I ever, David thinks. “Yes. And before you ask, she won’t exactly say whether she thinks it’s a good idea or not, but I think she’s secretly shipping us pretty hard.”

Patrick laughs, and David turns towards him, capturing his mouth in a light, silly kiss.

“I’m glad she approves,” Patrick says, a waver in his voice.

David wants to reassure him, to tell him that everyone does, but he knows it’s not that simple. “It’s not as if Alexis disapproves,” he says.

“She’s just worried for you,” Patrick fills in.

“Yeah.” That’s an understatement. “It, um, it wasn’t good, for me, right after we broke up. And she was there for all of that, so.”

Patrick reaches over and pushes a strand of hair off David’s face, his fingers lingering on his cheek and then resting back on David’s chest. “Do you want to talk about it?”

David’s heart suddenly races, and he wonders if Patrick can feel it. He has known that this moment was coming, that he has to tell Patrick what happened. And he knows, he really does, that Patrick won’t judge. Patrick has been open with him, and David needs to do the same. Keeping things in boxes never worked for them, not in the long run, and it won’t work now either. But no matter how reasonable it seems, David has still been dreading it.

“Yeah,” David says. “Okay.” Patrick shifts closer, and slides his free arm around David, so that David is surrounded by him, Patrick up against his back and breathing softly against his neck. He almost cries, before he even gets started, at this signal from Patrick that he’s loved.

He gives himself a moment to take it in, the fact that he’s going to be telling this story but with Patrick’s arms wrapped around him, and begins. “So, not long after we broke up, one of my mom’s castmates from Sunrise Bay let us use their house in the Hamptons for a while. I don’t know if you’ve ever been, but the summers are pretty much non-stop parties out there, all the rich and famous celebrities and wanna-be’s blowing off steam and abusing every substance they can get their hands on. It was easy to join in, and slip back into some bad habits.”

Patrick nods his head against David’s shoulder, letting David know he’s listening.

“One night at a party, after far too many drinks and a particularly embarrassing social interaction with Neil Patrick Harris’ stylist – who is not as cute as he thinks he is - I decided I was going to leave. On the way back to the house I got into an accident with a driver that was even drunker than I was.”

Patrick holds David tighter, but David just takes a deep breath and goes on. It’s not going to get any easier.

“I broke my collarbone, which wasn’t any fun at all.” He can feel Patrick tensing next to him.

“Was the other driver…?”

“Totally uninjured, which was a fucking miracle, given how our cars looked.”

“Oh David,” Patrick says, his voice tight. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it was all me, no apology necessary.”

“Still, I’m sorry that happened to you. That must have been so scary.” Patrick squeezes David’s hand. “Was that why you stopped drinking?”

David feels his heart start to pound its way up towards his throat. “No, not exactly.” He takes a deep breath, and turns over to face Patrick. It feels wrong to have this conversation without looking at him. Whatever he finds there, he can’t afford to miss it. He needs to see Patrick there in front of him, even if the concern in Patrick’s eyes is almost too much to take. It’s better than the alternative.

He takes another deep breath, steadying himself, and begins the rest of the story. “When I left the party, I knew I couldn’t drive home safely, but I went anyway. Alexis caught me on the way out, begged me to wait until she called an Uber, but I didn’t listen. I actually had scratches on my forearm from her nails, where she tried to stop me.” David pauses for a moment, blinking away the memory of Alexis’ face as he pulled away. “I got in the car and sped out of there. And… I wasn’t drunkenly convinced I’d be fine, it wasn’t an error of judgement. I knew I was too drunk to drive, and I did it anyway. It felt good. It felt… freeing.”

David sees Patrick’s eyes fill with tears as he realizes what David is saying, and he hates himself for doing this to Patrick, just as he did it to his family.

“That’s what really scared me.” He tries to laugh, letting out something more like a sob. “I wouldn’t have thought the Rose family could have any more together time than we did when we lived in the motel, but it turns out I was wrong. My parents moved me into their place in Toronto, we found the good therapist, and I decided alcohol was not my friend. It was months before I moved out into my own apartment.”

Patrick is crying freely now, tears silently streaming down his cheeks. David wraps his arms around his shoulders and pulls him close.

“I’m sorry,” David says. “I didn’t want to tell you, but-”

“Oh god, David,” Patrick says, interrupting him. “Don’t apologize, oh my god, if you had – thank god you didn’t-”

“I’m okay now,” David tries to reassure him, knowing that it isn’t that easy. It took months for Alexis to stop texting him every few hours, thinking that if she kept tabs on him she could keep it from happening again. “I am, I promise. I haven’t felt that way since that night, not even for a minute.”

“Did you – did you really want to kill yourself?”

David has asked himself this question and tried to answer it a million times. “I think it was more like I was indifferent to it,” David says, which is what feels most like the truth. “I didn’t have a plan. I wasn’t going to drive into a tree or off a bridge. I just kind of didn’t care.”

Patrick suddenly sits up and pulls David up with him, until they are looking at each other straight in the eye. “David, you bring light into so many people’s lives. Into mine. You’ve made me happier than anyone ever has, you’ve given me the best moments of my life. You’re creative, and sexy, and gorgeous…” He stops for breath, and David gives him a sideways smile.

“Still not nice, though?”

Patrick freezes, then huffs out a laugh. “You asshole.”

David bites his lip. “I’m sorry, I’ve heard a lot of speeches over the past few years, and it’s not as if I don’t appreciate it, but…”

“But it doesn’t matter.”

“Not when you feel the way I felt. It’s depression, it’s your brain. No one telling you that you’re awesome can really fix it.” There’s a look on Patrick’s face that makes David think that maybe this is ringing a bell for Patrick, and he resolves to go back and revisit it. There’s a part of him that hopes that talking to Patrick about his own experience would maybe prompt Patrick to think about his own troubles, but he needs to let Patrick bring it up himself. Anyway, this conversation isn’t about Patrick, it’s about David, and he has to see it through. “I’m okay now, I really am,” David says.

Patrick grabs his arms, squeezing his biceps tight. “I’m so glad,” Patrick says, “god, more than glad, David…” He blows out an unsteady breath, his eyes flickering away and then back to David before asking, hesitantly, “But you still talk to your therapist. It can come back?”

And there it is, the fucking irony of it all. “Yeah, well, like I said, this wasn’t the first time.” David leans his head back and blinks at the ceiling fan. “Damaged goods.”

Patrick sweeps him into a crushing embrace, one hand holding David’s head tight against his own. “I’m not going anywhere, David, and I’m not letting you go, either. Not this time. I don’t care how miserable you feel – I mean, I care, I don’t want you to be miserable-” Patrick takes a quick breath – “but I’ll still be here, no matter what happens. You won’t chase me away. I’m never letting go of you.”

It’s then, at the end of this whole agonizing conversation, that David finally loses his composure, ugly sobs bursting out of him as he and Patrick cling to each other. He’s not sure how long it goes on. Patrick holds him as he shakes and cries, and whispers reassurances that are pointless but still feel pathetically wonderful.

Finally it subsides, and David finds himself curled up on Patrick’s chest, Patrick stroking his hand up and down his back. He raises himself up on an elbow, and presses his lips together as Patrick wipes his cheeks with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Well, that was a pleasant way to start the day, wasn’t it?” David manages.

David watches as Patrick stares at him, searching his face, and then apparently comes to some kind of decision, some Patrick-inspired solution to this emotionally torturous pothole. “We need pancakes,” Patrick says, sitting up and pushing David to do the same.

David stares at him. “I like pancakes,” he says, stating the obvious.

“I know.” Patrick slides out of bed. “And we’re not eating them here. We’re going out.”

“It’s raining.”

“You won’t melt.”

David feels a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I might.”

“Well then at least you’ll have pancakes first. Get up and get dressed, we’re leaving in twenty minutes.

It’s a welcome escape from the drama of the morning’s conversation, and not only that, a glimpse of the Patrick Brewer David remembers so well, cocky and sure of himself. It’s perfect.

“Give me thirty, and you have a deal.”

The little diner that Patrick takes them to is cute enough, and the pancakes are tasty, but David can’t seem to settle down. It feels like Patrick is looking at him differently, like he’s fragile, and David hates it. He stares at Patrick, sitting across from him in a booth that is nothing like Café Tropical and yet so familiar, until he can’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore.

“I’m really okay,” David says, interrupting an endless story about how Marcy always orders a veggie omelet with no cheese and egg whites but then gets a giant cinnamon roll along with it, and Patrick pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth.

“Okay…” Patrick says, his eyes finding David’s.

“You keep talking about random stuff but I know you’re thinking about something else. About me, about what I told you.”

Patrick’s face shifts into a half-hearted smirk. “It’s not always about you, David.”

“Mmmhm. Then what’s going on?”

Patrick sets his fork down, and suddenly David wishes he hadn’t asked, because Patrick looks nervous, and that can’t mean anything good. Has he changed his mind and realized that David really is too much to deal with? Did he finally succeed in frightening him away?

“What you told me actually gave me a lot of hope,” Patrick says slowly. “That you were – depressed-” he hesitates over the word, but gets it out. “But now you feel better.”

“It’s been up and down, but mostly up, lately,” David babbles, not sure what else to say.

“I think I was,” Patrick says, looking down at his plate. “Depressed. Am still, maybe. Although it’s been better, recently… something’s still wrong. I think I need help shaking it off.”

It hits him like a blow to the chest. It has been obvious that Patrick hasn’t been himself, the way Patrick had described losing his job, and what led to going out with Jamie the night of his attack, but it still hurts to hear Patrick say it. It’s not something that David would wish on anyone.

David knows Patrick didn’t grow up with therapy on Wednesday afternoons in between piano lessons and baseball, and until today, he doesn’t think they ever really had a serious conversation about it. And he’s fairly certain that Patrick considered David’s history with mental health issues to be something that only happened to people not named Brewer.

He reaches across the table and finds Patrick’s hand where he’s clutching his napkin. “This can be a very difficult thing to talk about,” he says. “I’m proud of you for saying it. I’ll be here for you, whatever you need. We can find you a therapist, a good one.”

“One with piercings?”

“Maybe even a sleeve tattoo.”

Patrick manages a weak grin. He knows David’s feelings on permanently marring your skin. But then his smile fades. “I hate that you’re so familiar with all of this.”

“Well, if it can help you at all, at least my experience can be good for something.”

Patrick shakes his head. “Oh my god, this is the worst date ever.”

“Was this a date? But I didn’t bring Stevie.” David can’t help bringing that up, it’s too perfect. And as planned, it makes Patrick laugh so hard he snorts, and has to shove his napkin over his mouth.

“Shut up. I suck at first dates, I get it.”

“Nope.” David gets up and slides around the table, sitting next to Patrick on the bench and draping his arms around his shoulders. “You don’t suck at it. You got us here, both times, and that’s what matters. You are relentlessly persistent when you put your mind to it. You can get through this, Patrick, you can.”

Patrick laces his arms around David’s waist and they sit there for a long moment, squished in between the back of the booth and the table, David rubbing the back of Patrick’s head and trying to ignore the fact that the elbow of his sweater is probably getting in the questionable syrup Patrick soaked his pancakes in.

“Is it wrong for me to wish that you could hug this out of me?” Patrick says into David’s neck. “I mean, it couldn’t be that easy, could it? You make me so happy. I’ve been happier this week than I have been in three years. Just stay right here. Don’t let go.”

David shrugs, smiling against Patrick’s head and pulling him tighter against him. “What do I know, I’m not a therapist. We can try it. But at some point, they’re gonna make us leave this booth.”

#David x Patrick #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic #SC fic #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #SC fanfic #Schitt's Creek fanfic #tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: depression

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thevampirediariesdiary · 4 years

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I was pretty out of sorts with Stefan this episode. he’s been nervously aware of the fact of his being positioned in a love triangle before, of course; he’s been jealous and insecure and resentful, but I’ve never been quite so angry at the way he handled it as I was during “Dangerous Liaisons”.

so, naturally, I did a casual scroll through some old episode recaps, which turned into a not-so-casual scan of a handful of episode transcripts, and what I ended up with was a non-exhaustive collection of conversations demonstrating the development of the Salvatore brothers’ relationship, especially as regards their mutual love of specifically Elena. the emphasis is strongly on Stefan’s side of the triangle, because if you wanted to read about Damon pining longingly for Elena while she was clinging to Stefan, you could just read *waves hand vaguely and expansively* the entire rest of my blog.

the first real sparks of jealousy begin to appear after Damon and Elena’s trip to Atlanta in “Bloodlines”.

we get various exchanges in “Unpleasantville” as Damon’s presence in Stefan’s life, near Stefan’s girlfriend grates on Stefan:

S: Putting Elena in harm’s way, that is my concern. D: What are you talking about? S: I’m talking about Atlanta. D: Oh yeah. Elena and I had a blast. S: I get it, you’re just bitter that one of us gets to be with the person they love, and poor Katherine’s just out of reach.

D: Why should I trust you? S: Because I’m your brother. D: No, that’s not gonna cut it. S: Because I want you gone.

S: It was a lie. I let him believe he could trust me. E: Why would you be worried about telling me? S: Because he can be persuasive, and you two have…bonded…lately. E: That doesn’t mean I trust him. It’s gonna take a lot more than just a road trip and a rescue for me to forget who Damon is and everything he’s done.

which leads to the infamous-to-me “you and I will have a vampire girlfriend” exchange one episode later in “Children of the Damned”:

D: Course I was gonna do it by myself, because the only one I can count on is me. You made sure of that years ago, Stefan. But you [Elena]...you had me fooled. So what are you gonna do now? Because if you try to destroy that I’ll rip her heart out. S: You won’t kill her. D: I can do one better. Give me the book, Stefan, or I’m snapping her neck, and you and I will have a vampire girlfriend. S: Let her go first. D: The book. S: I’m not gonna give this to you until she’s standing next to me. D: The problem is I no longer trust that you’ll give it back! S: You just did the one thing that ensures that I will.

then Elena crosses the picket line to help Damon in “Fool Me Once”, Damon again calls her “our girlfriend” in “A Few Good Men”, and subsequently ends up back in the doghouse for killing Isobel and then gloating about it.

so for this whole first era of the show, the tension between these three characters is pretty straightforward. Stefan doesn’t like Damon hanging around Elena - but that’s (at least ostensibly) because he’s dangerous, because he’s unpredictable, because he puts her in bad situations. he tries to compel her. he tries to kill her friends. he grabs her and threatens to turn her vampiric. Damon might already love Elena, on some level, at this point - but it’s still not exactly a love triangle, because neither Stefan nor Elena seems to suspect - or, even if they suspect there’s something, they’d never call it love. there is no way in which Elena’s torn, no way in which she has to make a choice. her connection with both brothers is an asset.

this starts to change in the second era of the show, after the watershed moment of “Miss Mystic Falls”. Stefan falls from grace, Damon’s perspective on vampirism and on Stefan’s relationship with it is validated, and Damon and Elena waltz and then shack up together. when Stefan comes back to himself, it’s to a brave new world, and to Isobel’s bombshell, “because he’s in love with you”, which gives us the first real jealous boyfriend speech in “Isobel”:

S: Well, I know that you and Elena have bonded, and I know that she cares about you. And, uh, I know that you care about her. D: Well, this is going in an interesting direction. S: I’m just concerned about Elena getting hurt. She considers you a friend. D: Same here, Elena’s a very good friend. Actually, she might qualify as my only friend. Is that a problem? S: So, at the risk of sounding like a jealous boyfriend... D: Oh there’s no risk. You do. S: History will not be repeating itself where Elena is concerned.

Stefan lays it down like a proclamation, like an order - as if by telling Damon what he wants he can control the whole picture, because if history were to repeat itself, it would invariably be Damon’s fault. so much so, in fact, that he doesn’t approach Elena with his worries at all. Elena has to bring them up herself in “Founders Day”:

S: I try so hard to hate him. I guess it’s just pointless. E: You care about him. So do it. But I love you Stefan. And I know that you’re worried about that. S: Nah, I just, I know my brother. E: But I love you, Stefan. S: I know the trouble he can cause. E: I love you, Stefan, you. You have nothing to worry about.

and that may be true, on Elena’s side, but we find it absolutely isn’t on Damon’s. he tries to kiss Elena, and now we get a whole new flavor of jealousy from Stefan - one which Stefan is, to his credit, actively trying to fight against. he knows that he and Damon have to present a unified front against all the forces of evil if they’re ever going to be able to protect Elena.

S: Katherine’s gonna try to play us against each other, you know that right? So yes, as much as I would like to kill you, I’m not gonna fight you. D: I kissed Elena. S: Because you feel something for her. Because you actually care. And I’m not going to let Katherine come in here and destroy that part of you that after all this time is finally willing to feel something.

Stefan chooses to allow Damon’s love for his girlfriend in the hopes that it will have positive effects: Elena’s safety, brotherly agreement, Damon’s regained humanity. this attitude persists through "The Return” into the latter half of the season when the non-Katherine threat is looming, though the choice is perhaps made a little simpler by Damon having screwed things up so spectacularly with Elena. what does it matter if Damon loves Elena, when Elena hates him? there is no threat there. thus, Stefan’s much more casual approach to the subject in “Rose”:

S: We both know you being in this car has absolutely nothing to do with me anyway. D: And the elephant in the room lets out a mighty roar. S: Well, it doesn’t have to be an elephant! You know, let’s talk about it! D: Nothing to talk about. S: That’s not true, sure there is. Let’s get it out: are you in this car because you want to help your little brother save the girl he loves, or is it…is it because you love her too? Come on, express yourself! I happen to like road trip bonding. D: Keep it up, Stefan. I could step out of helping as easily as I stepped in. S: Nope, that's the beauty of it. You can't.

even when Stefan is trapped with Katherine in “The Sacrifice”, he gracefully hands over Elena’s protection to Damon:

S: Promise me whatever happens you'll protect her. D: Promise.

Katherine’s response to this, of course, is to tell Stefan, “That right there was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.” and yet, it’s a choice he keeps making. Damon is on Elena duty. there’s that excellent moment in “The Last Dance” wherein Stefan, dancing with Elena, signals to Damon and then twirls Elena into his brother’s arms, and leaves. he places Elena into Damon’s care, again and again, and he never seems to regret it - until after the dance Damon verbalizes for him what that means:

S: Don’t you understand what you put her through? D: See, that’s why I didn’t tell you. Because you’d never have been able to do it. Don’t get me wrong, Stefan, I don’t mind being the bad guy. I’ll make all the life and death decisions, while you’re busy worrying about collateral damage. I’ll even let her hate me for it. But at the end of the day, I’ll be the one to keep her alive.

Damon puts words to their roles: Stefan wrings his hands and keeps his hands clean, so that he can stay in Elena’s good graces, and Damon protects her, whether she likes him for it or not. Stefan’s role is largely passive, Damon’s is active. the only thing he’s wrong about is that actually, Elena doesn’t hate him for it. they’re maybe closer than ever.

for the rest of the season, Stefan resists Damon’s interpretation of their triangular dynamic as hard as he can. in “Klaus” Stefan tries to pretend control by reminding Damon that he’s the one benevolently granting permission for Damon to protect Elena:

D: You should be thankful [Andi]'s here, it keeps me from going for what I really want. S: You’re right, thank you…for being in love with my girlfriend. D: And there it is. S: There it is. You know, you can be in love with Elena all you want, if it means that you’ll protect her. But I have the one thing that you never will. D: Oh yeah? What’s that? S: Her respect.

the “respect” comment is a bit of a non sequitur - as if Elena’s undeniable fondness for Damon is like the affection you feel for a pet who’s too stupid to listen to you. it misses the mark - Damon knows, by now, that Elena thinks he’s capable of being the better man. she holds him to a standard, and that is more respect than anyone has ever shown him. she respects Damon and she gratefully accepts his protection. the only thing Damon doesn’t have is her romantic love.

this is briefly easier for Stefan to bear once Damon digs himself into another hole. Stefan is able to admit to Elena in “The Last Day” that Damon’s horrible actions were motivated by love: Damon’s trying to keep her alive, the only way he knows how, even if he forgot for a moment that vampirism isn’t really life. Elena is too angry to see this, but Stefan, who’s thought about it before, is a big enough person to tell her.

and then in “The Sun Also Rises”, Stefan tries to switch their roles: he sends Damon to carry Elena away to wring his hands over collateral damage, so Stefan can keep watch over the life and death choices:

S: I need you to get her out of here. D: What about you? S: I'm not leaving until he's dead.

Damon’s still protecting her, of course, but he also gets to cup her face in his hands and ask how she feels - which would normally be Stefan’s job.

and then, after this last switch, there’s no place for jealousy anymore. because Damon is dying:

S: He told me not to tell you [that he's dying], but I figured if you wanted to talk to him...I wouldn't wait. ....Go talk to him. Just tell him that there's still hope.

I do wonder if Stefan knew what he was doing when he left with Klaus - if he thought about Elena at all, and what would happen with her, or if he could only think about his brother’s life. but at least by the time season three opens, Stefan seems to be trying to set aside any possessiveness of Elena. while Stefan is still in possession of his humanity, we see something like a repeat of the same brotherly dynamic from when Stefan was trapped in the tomb with Katherine. when he sees Damon, all he says is to keep Elena away, so she’ll be safe. he figuratively spins Elena away from him and lets Damon pull her into his arms, and when he walks away he tries very very hard not to look back, he tries not to think about the fact that he left them both behind, together. note that when we do see Stefan and Elena encounter each other - in the closet in Chicago, in the school on senior prank night - Damon isn’t there. Stefan doesn’t see the dynamic they’ve developed without him until his humanity is gone.

and Stefan-sans-humanity has a very different reaction than he would under different circumstances. he walks in on Damon knelt in front of a weeping Elena, promising that he’ll never leave her, and Stefan says “Well, isn’t this cozy...by all means, carry on.” he notices that Elena’s staring at Damon hitting on Rebekah, and says, “My brother’s got his flirt on, and you’re jealous...It’s alright, be jealous, by all means. I’m sure Damon will be thrilled.”

so we don’t start to see Stefan really react to how much closer Damon and Elena have grown in his absence until his humanity is creeping closer to the surface. you could argue that’s what he’s referring to in “Our Town” when he says, “I lost you the minute I left town with [Klaus], you just haven’t let yourself admit that yet,” as if he was saying “I lost you to Damon.” but I think the more interesting interpretation there is that Stefan’s talking about his own actions, “I lost you the minute I left town and started killing.” so that makes Stefan’s first reaction to Damon and Elena’s season 3 relationship “The Ties That Bind” and Elena’s confession:

E: There's something I need to tell you, and it's not because I feel guilty that it happened, it's because I feel guilty you don't know. I kissed Damon.

Stefan is laid bare, and we see for the first time how much of his apathy is now a mask he puts on consciously and purposefully. as much as he’s talked a big game about pushing her away, and despite all the moments of casual intimacy he saw while his switch was flipped, he didn’t see this coming. either because he didn’t think this new relatively-responsible Damon would actually make a move on his brother’s girl, or because he didn’t think Elena would allow it. but Elena doesn’t even give him the dubious comfort of saying that Damon kissed her and she just kissed him back. all she says is she didn’t plan it. it was a surprise for her, just like it was for Stefan, but it did happen and she doesn’t feel guilty about it. when Stefan finally responds, all he says is:

S: You're better than him, Elena. You're better than both of us.

the words go along with what Stefan’s been saying and doing all season long: pushing Elena away, letting her go, so she can be free and happy somewhere without him - but now also without Damon. she’s better than both of them, she should let them both go. but later that night Damon asks if Elena is okay, and Stefan punches him - kissing Elena was an offense against Stefan, because Elena’s still off-limits for Damon, she’s still Stefan’s. and so he retaliates.

Stefan’s feeling of vengeful possessiveness starts to shift into something else in "Bringing Out The Dead”:

S: I love her, Damon. D: So do I.

this is Stefan letting Damon know that Damon’s not going to “take” Elena without a fight. Damon responds in kind, because he’s not going to cede to Stefan’s prior claim. they both love her. neither of them currently “has” her. may the best man win.

which brings us, at long last, to "Dangerous Liaisons”. both brothers have declared their love for Elena - but both of them aren’t completely all-in on showing it. for Damon, “it is right, but not right now”; for Stefan, his humanity is still only partially on, and, we soon discover, when he lets himself care, all he feels is pain.

the episode begins with this exchange:

D: Can we go back in time where the old Stefan cared if Elena lived or died? S: What for? It's your job now.

this is neither brother at his best, a definite dick move on both of their parts. but the real meat of their conflict in this episode is here:

S: You know, maybe you should stop being such a controlling dick, Damon. D: Wait, hang on, I’m the problem here? S: You’re a liability, brother. D: I’m trying to keep her alive, Stefan. S: Yeah, well, your emotions are getting in the way of our plan. D: Wh - my emotions? How is this even happening right now? S: Maybe because you care too damn much.

the crazy thing is, “you may be trying to keep her alive but your emotions are getting in the way of our plan because you care too damn much” is, in essentials, almost exactly the same as “you can be in love with Elena all you want, if it means you’ll protect her.” Stefan takes the very thing that Damon has always had going for him - “at the end of the day, I’ll be the one to keep her alive” - and turns it into a weakness, a fault. and it’s not explicitly because Damon will keep Elena safe without consulting her wishes, i.e. feed her vampire blood rather than risk losing her. it’s not about his not respecting Elena’s freedom enough to let her be protected the way she wants. it’s not about some harm or injustice to Elena at all. it’s about the big picture, the big picture that Damon is incapable of seeing because all he sees is Elena. Damon will never care more about defeating Klaus than he cares about Elena. and somehow, Stefan twists words around, hints and implies and accuses, and makes that look like a bad thing, and Elena buys it, and then Damon does too.

but there’s something just absolutely nonsensical and a little insidious about that framing of things. if Damon didn’t care more about Elena than the big picture battle between the good guys and the bad guys, then he might as well have let her hand herself over to Klaus in “The Sacrifice”. but he didn’t - he stepped in, and saved her against her own wishes, risking himself in the process. and he was right to do so - his actions weren’t motivated by nebulous “emotions”, code for “selfishness”, but love, real love, which looks out for the true good of the beloved. the fact that Damon’s love for Elena is a preferential love, a love that has always put her first, is exactly what makes it a romantic love. he doesn’t care too much, he’s not crazy impulsive, being driven by blind feelings. he’s doing what love does: prefer the good of the other. and Stefan understood that, before - he was the one who told Elena, in “The Last Day”, “he did it because he loves you”. but now that Damon hasn’t done anything truly heinous in a while, now that he’s holding himself together so well that he’s starting to be a romantic threat, Stefan suddenly isn’t so gracious with him anymore.

so yeah, I think Stefan's not playing fair. rather than facing Damon honorably on the field of love-triangle-battle, his strengths and love against Damon’s strengths and love, he tries to paint Damon’s strength as a weakness so that maybe Damon will forsake it. if Damon doesn’t have “I’ll be the one to keep her alive”, if he has to be ashamed of that, what does he have? it’s underhanded and manipulative, and I do not like it.

#salvatore brothers #index #whoops i thought i already posted this #sorry #it is EXCESSIVELY long #and I basically just wrote it for myself #but here it is anyway

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ayankun · 4 years

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The Asset

so I’m making my mom watch Agents of SHIELD (obviously) and today we watched eps 1x03 - 1x06. That’s The Asset, Eye Spy, Girl in the Flower Dress, and FZZT.

THEN I ACCIDENTALLY SPENT LIKE FIVE HOURS DISSECTING MY LEAST FAVORITE EPISODE YOU’RE WELCOME

First off, full spoilers ahead, of course.

1x03 is, hands down, the worst episode of the series. PERIOD. I didn’t give it my full attention when I did my rewatch, because I remembered it well enough for some reason and the guy that plays Quinn looks too much but not enough like Tahmoh Penikett to seriously irritate me. DODGED A BULLET THERE.

Giving it your full attention does not do it any favors. I was physically discomfited, squirming in my seat and dropping snide remarks every 12 seconds. It’s bad, you guys.

First off, we have this guy, who is, for now in S1, the one and only “Agent Mack.”

THE SIMILARITIES ARE UNCANNY.

Then this big rig gets dropped like 50 feet and I’m supposed to believe that this guy strapped in the back only had his glasses knocked askew?

Ok then we go see what the team is up to, and lord, three episodes has not been enough time for Chloe or Brett to Figure Their Shit Out. They’re so awkward and dumb looking.

After a passable briefing scene, where we learn that Baldy McGlasses is a valuable asset (and beloved advisor to FitzSimmons) who was being transported with maximum security before being kidnapped, we get this wildly wild “we have to put something on the screen while exposition happens” shot:

Which cuts contemporaneously to

Thanks I hate it

Where did the atmospheric smoke go? Was that highway always there? What time of day is this supposed to be where the ambient light changes so drastically over a matter of seconds? They couldn’t have kept the camera on the left side of the lane marker?

But it gets worse because Simmons has a line and the coverage for this is basically just a matched jump cut over to the other half of the line up and back again.

I can’t stand it.

So Agent Mack survived the fall and is still on the scene of the accident. My mom was pretty incredulous that he was alive, and I was thinking it was too bad that he had to sit there for hours waiting to be debriefed instead of being taken to a hospital.

THEN there’s some FitzSimmons pratfall-adjacent sci-fi nonsense that my mom really got a kick out of. But I was too distracted by Iain’s decision to play Fitz as a douchebag so far this season so I wasn’t in the right mood to be impressed.

Ok then we go back to the lab to do some science on the MacGuffin, and I will admit my favorite part so far is Skye challenging Coulson on the existence of the truth serum, and Coulson plays it so Coulson-y it’s truly chef’s kiss.

BUT THEN May comes along and drops 100 pounds of print media for Skye to review (oh yeah, there’s a key subplot about there potentially being a mole inside SHIELD, which is how McGlasses got got) and MY MOM who REGULARLY prints out things like Facebook posts to keep for posterity rightly pointed out that they have high-tech on this plane like holograms and stuff, so printing out all this correspondence in order to go through it page by page makes 0% sense.

Also we never see it again.

OKAY THEN COULSON AND WARD ACCOST A COWBOY RIDING A HORSE THROUGH THE WOODS. Said cowboy also just happens to have the incriminating bag of gold on his person, which Coulson and Ward straight up steal. That’s it. That’s the whole concept for the scene. Coulson’s just parked his car along a narrow woodland path, just waiting for a cowboy to come riding along so he can accost him/steal his gold.

Check out how whack this scene-setting shot is, too. We have Coulson on the left, facing the Cowboy on the right. At this trajectory, you can see that Lola and the horse are basically pointed perpendicular to one another.

Yet cowboy pulls to a stop without banking and addresses something dead ahead of him.

Surprise! Coulson’s over there now and Lola and the horse are facing dead on.

To really drive this home, cowboy spends the rest of the scene on the left, addressing Coulson who remains on the right.

Anyway so yeah, this scene is about roughing up an innocent civilian for intel and then stealing his legally acquired wealth.

At least they can’t take the sky from him.

The purpose of the cowboy gold is that it’s directly traceable back to Quinn Worldwide, which is hilarious considering that one assumes the under-the-table transaction used this method of currency in order to not be easily traced.

Coulson name drops Quinn like he’s some off-brand Tony Stark that we should be impressed with, and we are immediately shown that Ian Quinn’s defining characteristic is that he has an assistant to hang up his cell phone calls for him. We are not impressed with Ian Quinn.

OKAY AND THEN WE GET THIS COMPLETE MIS-READ OF SCRIPT INTENT IN THIS SHOT

why why why why why why would you ignore a character’s line like that. Why are you choosing to TELL me that a man is tied up when it would be SO EASY to SHOW me.

Especially since the narrative so far is that McGlasses has been skillfully kidnapped by a very determined adversary, and this moment, this interaction, is where that assumption is proven erroneous. Quinn’s line is a very specific cue that we are meant to SEE that he’s restrained, per our expectations following a kidnapping, specifically to introduce the twist that Quinn is just that budget Tony Stark who actually has no malicious intentions towards his former colleague.

A super close close up of McGlasses fails to achieve that moment the script was hunting for. I’m feeling that the intent was to keep the focus on this dude because of the upcoming secondary twist where he is revealed to be the SHIELD mole who masterminded his own kidnapping, but this guy is So Bad at acting I don’t think keeping him front and center is ever going to pay off.

(ok I just checked and it turns out Ian Hart is a prolific English actor. this makes me feel like I ought to chalk it up to “difficulty emoting while doing a fake American accent” but guys this performance is so bad I’m really not willing to believe there’s a good excuse)

anyway it turns out Quinn’s good guy!

.....but then he’s on the wrong side of the shot all of a sudden for no good reason and HEY maybe this set up with the wide angle on the lab and a clear look at McGlasses’ physical situation within that environment would have been an alternative for, you know, maybe some sort of establishing shot? Maybe? No?

Also here let’s take a moment to let the “plot” really sink in. These two chuckleheads are former classmates and colleagues, even though one of them looks about 20 years older than the other, and Quinn discovered that “an asset” was being moved, “deduced” that the asset was McGlasses, and wanted to bring McGlasses in on his semi-nefarious science plan. So to avoid SHIELD interference in his schemey scheme, Quinn

kidnaps McGlasses directly from SHIELD custody,

in the showiest manner, not only using but LEAVING BEHIND the exact product at the core of his scheme,

and pays a local cowboy with easily traceable gold in exchange for just some regular backhoe to bust open the big rig transporting McGlasses, instead of, I don’t know, using his massive wealth and influence and in-house R&D products to not massively incriminate himself

He couldn’t have just invited McGlasses over without calling attention to himself?

There is the way that “the asset” was being “moved” makes it sound like McGlasses was on top secret lock down with no civilian rights or means of making/receiving contact with people like old colleagues. But this is never clarified, like, the only other thing we know about him is that he evidently advises classes at the Sci-Ops branch of the SHIELD academy.

ALSO we have yet to learn that McGlasses personally staged “being moved” and leaked the hints regarding the identity of “the asset” to Quinn just so that Quinn would do all these nonsense things he done. He couldn’t have just invited himself over???

Also the conversation they have at this point is real rough, with non-sequiturs, shambling exposition, and garbage jokes that wouldn’t float even if you didn’t have a log and a ham struggling to mimic human behavior.

Also Quinn bought the PRIME MINISTER OF MALTA’S old manor specifically because it has a huge underground lab???? What about Malta do I need to know about before this makes sense?

Let’s move on. FitzSkimmons have an only-mostly painful scene of exposition in which Iain is still having a hard time with the lines/characterization the Powers That Be are forcing Fitz to be at the moment. I’m going to say it. Season 1 Fitz is Utterly Unlikable.

However, this rant has given me the opportunity to 1) stand corrected and 2) appreciate this understated joke:

She’s still on page 1 of 1 billion LOLOLOLOL

The other nice thing to come out of this scene is the casual validation that the public school system may not be right for everyone, and that being a high school drop out does not mean you can’t also be an intelligent self-starter who finds value and satisfaction in picking up a trade skill on your own. *coughs in Robbie Reyes*

UGH but then we go back to McWooden and Bargain Ham. Their story is UNINTERESTING and their performances are HARD TO STOMACH. Also it ends on a mirror of the shot we started with (so there is some evidence of intelligent design at play here after all)

But this framing makes me so uncomfortable like, I’ve shipped for less don’t put weird ideas in my head that no one wants least of all me--

Ok. We’re a third of the way through. It doesn’t stop getting worse.

So here’s the correct way to reposition your characters if you want to change up the eye lines without making it super jarring! The start of this scene is actually really textbook-nice, just look:

The pre-mission planning is already in full swing, but we follow Skye, the outsider on the outside, approaching the scene with some amount of hesitation.

She starts on the right, facing left, and crosses across the path of the camera as it follows her towards the meeting, ending up on its left while the folks currently giving lines are framed over her right shoulder. Your eye line and sense of positioning has fluidly followed hers, and this makes sense.

From this establishing shot, we do a real nice punch in on Coulson as he’s speaking, using a really action smooth cut as he does a bit of business with his hand.

We’re still coming into this scene from Skye’s POV, and this shot reflects that -- close enough to focus on the important action, but distant enough to show Skye’s current position (literally and figuratively) relative to the rest of the team.

The reverse shot is ... fine. It’s fine. I don’t like that she’s framed on the right hand side of the screen (exactly where Coulson was a split second ago), but the eye lines still match up and it does give the impression that the camera is the avatar of the audience and we just turned on the spot to look at her as she quietly invites herself to this scene and starts putting that big beautiful brain of hers to work.

Then we leave her to it! Feel the difference this cut has, emotionally, from the last time we looked over at Coulson:

We’ve left Skye’s aloof POV and now we’re all up in his biz. This framing tells us he’s no longer the subject of Skye’s contemplation and has gone back to being a character of the TV screen doing TV character things.

The remainder of this scene holds onto that “normal” shot-reverse-shot framing of the team as they give their opinions and work through the plan.

This laudable result of thoughtful camera work is almost instantly ruined by Fitz yammering on about using a brave little monkey to do their serious spy business and HOLY COW Iain does his best with the dreck he’s been given but there is no universe in which I will find this type of dialogue acceptable.

The valuable plot point here is that Skye is finding her footing on the team, doing hacky stuff on her phone and putting herself out there as -- wait for it -- an asset to Coulson. Ward responds to this with bafflement, being generally supportive of her known abilities while also being doubtful that she’s a complete package, and turning to Coulson for advice on how to round her training out.

This results in yet another JARRING AF transition (read: there’s no transition) from Ward and Coulson’s heart to heart to Ward pointing a gun at Skye at some indeterminate amount of time later.

Look we haven’t even had time to ingest Coulson’s line yet and BAM we’re here.

This scene’s fine. It’s doing double duty and that’s admirable. Triple duty, even. Many duties are being performed in this scene. We have

fledgling Skyeward

the introduction to the gun-manipulation maneuver Skye will use later on

Skye’s irreverence butting heads with Ward’s need for brass-tacks

at least one solid joke at Ward’s expense

Ward valuing Skye’s er, assets -- I’M TALKING COMPUTER SCIENCE YA PERVS

a very competent conversational segue into Ward’s Whole Deal, wherein we are introduced to the concept of his childhood trauma (lolol and man does Brett just fail to deliver these lines in any sort of a way that inspires human empathy wowowo he’s so bad in this one)

a callback to an earlier conversation as well as a set up for a future joke

SKYE STEALING WARD’S GUN FROM OUT OF HIS PANTS A++++

Now we go into pre-heist plan-walkthrough mode, and it’s so boring and lifeless that Skye’s actual summary line is “Plan, green, drop, walk ... pie.” To be honest, she got more out of the discussion than I did.

May has an interesting character moment where she’s complaining about going into the field and then immediately regrets it because she was never going to be sent in, but that means Coulson’s going in instead and that worries her. I keep thinking back on this season as being unfocused, but that’s because I forget that the sales pitch for this entire shebang is “we killed Coulson in Avengers but now here’s a show where he’s the lead because everyone loves him so much” and the subsequent focus of the inaugural season is everyone’s burning curiosity to find out how they undid his murder.

Aside from the sci-fi/Marvel/generic spy show gimmick of the week, these early episodes never fail to prioritize the interpersonal dynamic of their team while simultaneously teasing out the Coulson mystery with these nice little regular hits.

I let it keep playing while I was typing, and we flew over some whatever business where Skye goes to Quinn’s party, and Coulson and Ward land their little raft on the beach, and the other kids are watching from the Bus and FITZ IS AGAIN TERRIBLE

I feel you, Jemma.

(Also, am I wrong in hearing him give in and say “boobs?” The Netflix subtitles have it as “oops” but that can’t be it.)

Anyway so Skye’s busy using her Assets to win Quinn over, and Chloe’s shining moment in this scene is the delivery of the drivers test joke.

Back to stuff that’s gratingly awful, we’re supposedly on Malta, right? And you know how Hollywood generally and the spy show/movie genre specifically tries to stretch their location budgets by putting on color filters to “evoke” distant lands?

We go from the above, washed out and unfiltered, to this sepia-toned nonsense:

This is supposed to be taking place basically right outside. Why not just keep the filter on for the interior scenes, too? There’s plenty of searing Maltese light coming in through that wall of windows.

(They must have had a hard time on location for the manor shoots, though, it’s just as washed out in the earlier scene set outdoors that I didn’t show you because it was boring but I’m showing you know because it’s not even the same color filter as the Coulson/Ward shots

)

((Also, yeah, I get it. You can’t fly to Malta for a day for a television shoot. But how many people are you fooling when you put the Santa Monica mountains in the backdrop of every exterior shot?))

So we go back and forth between these high-grain-low-saturation beachfront stuff to these holy angelic light of judgement shots and I hate it.

Like, why choose to shoot against this nuclear-blast light? It’s not doing your actors any favors.

Especially when you’re ALSO choosing to depict that same “natural” light with a whole different palette and then continue to give us the opportunity to compare and contrast.

Also I hate the Ward/Coulson business because it’s just generic spy stuff where some guards come out of nowhere and I guess maybe it’s implied that their cute boat was found but it could just as easily be that it was explicitly stated that there were guard patrols and I forgot.

But then they fight and defeat the guards in literally under 8 seconds and that’s that. End of stakes.

The character moment that validates this trivial obstacle is that Coulson tries to do something with a gun and finds that May’s concerns weren’t entirely unfounded. He’s a little rusty.

Also Ward’s response to this is to chuck the gun into the laser wall and I don’t know why. In any case, the energy from both of them in this screenshot really resonates with me.

So then Skye Does The Thing with her Assets and if you’ll let me be picky again about plot holes, why does the wireless access MacGuffin need to have an interface for Skye to check that the connection is possible, and THEN have that connection activated by LITERALLY dropping it on the table. They couldn’t have set it to auto-scan and then tell her through her earpiece to stay still when the connection activated itself?

Whatever. Success! Immediately followed by ... INEXPLICABLE OBSTACLE

WHO, praytell, is on the other end of that walkie talkie? Because the downed man is the man you see. Typically, it would be like a survivor of the scuffle who radios for backup, but here we see the scene of the scuffle and some unknown unseen ADDITIONAL MAN who I guess is just spying on them from somewhere and radioing still more unseen men?

Instantly hearing this news, the Unseen begin a sniper assault on Coulson and Ward, and we get to see their bullets getting evaporated by the laser wall. Remember those guards walking along the sea cliff towards the sign? There’s no place for the snipers to be sniping from, unless they have some kind of invisible floating island.

This scenario is made even more hilarious once Fitz brings down the laser wall and Coulson and Ward dive through like they think they some kind of James Bonds and then the wall goes back up and the snipers keep sniping.

Why aren’t the guards on the inside of the perimeter of the compound which they guard? This laser fence is now protecting the intruders. Minor design flaw.

Anywho, Quinn is still talking about how he doesn’t trust SHIELD and SHIELD doesn’t trust him, so it’s like, what are we supposed to believe about this guy anyway? Why did Coulson introduce him as bargain bin Tony Stark if he was known to be bargain bin Justin Hammer all along?

So now that snipers have failed to snipe the intruders, some Seen Guards come to alert Quinn so he breaks the wireless MacGuffin and turns a gun on Skye. (Just sayin, if it had been some secret device that was still in her bag, she’d have plausible deniability)

I think, at this point, I have two conclusions

Team Coulson has no extraction plan for getting McGlasses out of the compound since they don’t have a Plan B to get back through the laser wall, no firepower to use on the Seen Guards, and no available land-or-sea getaway vehicles.

There was never any sort of extraction plan for Skye even if the laser wall and the Seen Guards were not an obstacle.

Here’s where it gets the messiest.

Coulson busts in on McGlasses but is told no rescue is required.

AT THAT SAME TIME

May has just popped open a tablet over in some room by herself, evidently disinterested in whatever FitzSimmons is probably doing right now in light of this drastic turn of events, and she’s randomly googling up on the SHIELD leak mentioned earlier, only to discover that it was MCGLASSES ALL ALONG.

Keeps a cool head, our May.

Yeah, we know, we .. he ... he just said ... you know what? We didn’t actually care, though? Who the mole was or that it was McGlasses. We certainly didn’t spend the last half hour watching May diligently tracking down some breadcrumb trail of clues to get to this dramatic reveal, only to find out a second too late. We didn’t even see her checking up that Skye had/didn’t have this angle covered.

Did she print out the contents of the four-foot binder as some sort of eco-terrorist cruel joke since she was just planning on spending three seconds on the computer to complete the same task?

Ok so Coulson misinterprets McGlasses’ decline of his rescue operation as collaboration with Quinn until May clues him in. We then go to commercials and come back and have to go over all this info again just in case we didn’t follow that super exciting double-cross the first two times.

At which point we figure out where all the pre-production time was sunk -- somebody had to spend a lot of effort envisioning how they were going to do the wacky-gravity scenes. My feeling is that fun challenges like that are what stand out to people who are working on a thing, and sometimes the prestige of “pulling that off” can overshadow the need to pay attention to other, less exciting aspects of filmmaking, like making sure your eye lines stay coherent in a scene or that your color gradings aren’t super distracting.

Anyway I do really like the load-bearing scene where Quinn threatens Skye at gunpoint because it is one of those many examples this season has of laying ground work for and paying off character moments.

Skye’s flip and smart and completely not ready for this level of field action, but she remembers her training, remembers how earnestly Ward wanted her to be ready for this defining moment, and gets the gun!

That “nOPE” when she can’t shoot the man is also Classic Skye and we Love Her For It.

Anyway oh yeah, McGlasses reveals his master plan to get kidnapped, so that he could get on site and ruin Quinn’s everything because he’s a Bad Justin Hammer. His performance is SO PAINFUL and his reasoning has yet to make sense. Coulson doesn’t ask “why did you have to be kidnapped to get in, though” but he does ask “why didn’t you try reasoning with him” as if that were the question we needed an answer to.

Also it turns out FitzSimmons has been pretty chill this whole time since their agents lost their extraction plan (well, they’re smart, they probably knew all along that there wasn’t one) and are just puttering around the lab working on what looks like their regular day-to-day science, talking excitedly about gravitonium rather than panicking that the whole plan’s gone to shit.

Unflappable.

COME ON PEOPLE the mission wasn’t “throw McGlasses into the gravitonium and do high-fives” it was “rescue McGlasses from Quinn’s grasp.” From the way that this plays out, there is 0% indication that their initial plan was ever expected to succeed.

WE DON’T EVEN SEE HOW THEY GET OUT OF THERE, WE JUST LOOK AT SOME MCGRAVITONIUM AND THEN SEE COULSON ON THE BUS INSTRUCTING THE CONTAINMENT FACILITY ON HOW IT SHOULD BE HANDLED.

Oh well, the gratuitous plot is disposed with after this point.

In the denouement, we get to see May and Coulson interact over his experience in the field and her experience being stuck watching him in the field. She’s finally ready for combat, but strictly for his sake. And he’s at the point where he’s ready and willing to take her up on her offer instead of trying to prove that he’s everything he was before he died.

Following that, we get some Skyeward with some really gross romantic comedy type music. Bear, you’re better than this!! But the scene is nice, Chloe really brings it (almost brings too much) and Brett is there to support her.

It’s a really on-the-nose admission from Skye that her allegiances lie with SHIELD, but its an organic continuation of that bit from earlier where she wandered all up on their meeting, the outsider, and pushed her way into the heart of it. She wants this. She wants to feel like she belongs here. And now she’s been trusted with some opportunities and tools to prove it!

This early in the season, we’re still doubtful that she’s on the up and up, what with that Rising Tide plot thread hanging so loose and tantalizing over our heads. Due to the potential of a storyline revolving around her betrayal, there are a lot of fun little moments in the next few episodes where Ward gets to say some betrayal-related stuff that is absolutely excellent in retrospect.

I was watching some old interviews and while it is very clear Brett did not know the fate of his character in advance, it’s also distinctly implied that no one knew and the arc of the season may have developed episode by episode. That’s so nutty to me, considering how strong the structure of the season is, how there are so many satisfying call backs and payoffs later on.

I think I’m more likely to applaud a well-plotted narrative, in which foreshadowing and a deliberate order of events slowly unravel to great effect. But I can definitely appreciate the ability to force the illusion of the same by being crafty and attentive and not letting any usable threads go to waste.

Ultimately, whether by design or by providence, Season 1 is successful in pulling it all together. It’s just that episodes like this one don’t really inspire you to believe that that outcome is likely, or even possible. Episodes like this one cause a person to give up watching halfway through the season and walk away for years until cajoled into giving it another shot because “it got good somehow.”

But what this season has, every episode, especially ones like this one, is a pronounced, chaotic, relentless prioritization of Character over Plot. What is this show about? Who cares. That’s the wrong question. This show could have been about anything, and these early episodes are all too aware of it. What kind of story can you tell when every option is on the table and no one knows what to expect from you?

You find that story, step by step, episode by episode, through the eyes of your characters. The forward motion of the story isn’t “how did Coulson come back to life” but “what is life going to be like for him now?” It’s not “will Skye betray the team” it’s “what does she want and what is she willing to do to get it?”

Posing and answering these character questions generates the Story of Agents of SHIELD. Plots be damned. Remember how at one point in this episode, our heroes robbed a cowboy at gunpoint? Yeah. Me either.

And I can’t agree more with this approach. In my experience, PWP works best when its about the characters.

#agents of shield #aos

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evakuality · 5 years

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Davenzi: 63. “Flea markets don’t carry fleas, you know?”

Thank you for sending this prompt! For you, it’s the third chapter of the ongoing saga of the ring. This chapter also available on Ao3, with chapter one starting here on tumblr and here on Ao3

Rings, Riddles and Revenge. Chapter Three:“Flea markets don’t carry fleas, you know?”

Matteo

Despite knowing that he can’t expect any sort of message immediately, Matteo is still disappointed when his phone doesn’t light with a text any time during the rest of the afternoon. The desire for contact itches under his skin and behind his eyes all day, his phone in his hand every few minutes without his conscious thought. That little habit stretches into the middle of the next afternoon while he’s listlessly carrying out some errands his mother has asked him to do for her.

When he notices himself doing it, Matteo makes a disgruntled noise. It was just a damn interaction over a piece of jewellery. Fake jewellery, no less. David was doing his job, being professional, helping out a customer. If his perfect retail persona had slipped for a few minutes, that didn’t mean anything. And here’s the proof. No text, because he clearly hasn’t found the details yet. And with no details, David doesn’t want to contact Matteo at all. Matteo sighs. Runs his fingers through his hair.

His pocket vibrates, and his phone is in his hand again on instinct, drawn there by the mere chance that it could be David. He’s fucked, Matteo realizes. Just the idea of David being on the other end of a piece of communication is enough to have this joy buzzing under his skin. He can’t keep the grin off his face, bites his lip to try to keep it in check but knows he’s giving himself away to anyone who might happen to be watching him.

I can’t find the details I need, the text reads, and Matteo’s heart plummets to his shoes. He can’t quite tell if the cold wash of disappointment that floods his body is from realizing he isn’t going to be able to sell the ring or if it comes from sadness that David is only contacting him to give him the bad news. He shakes his head in irritation at his foolishness.

That’s okay, he sends back. Thank you for trying.

Do you know that flea market near the river?

Matteo frowns at the message. It makes no sense at all, a non sequitur. Confusing and disorientating. He can’t help the way his heart beats a little faster at the thought that sneaks into his mind that maybe David wants to see him again as much as Matteo wants to see David. His mind keeps returning to the way David had looked at him in that one tiny moment when they were so close before Matteo had practically run out of the store to avoid embarrassing himself further. A small part of him, ever hopeful, helpfully suggests that it might mean something.

There’s a place near there that could help. With the ring, David sends before Matteo breaks out of his confusion enough to answer. I could meet you there and take you over to it.

Oh.

David still just wants to be a helpful retail worker, then. Matteo swallows down the sad lump that rises in his throat as he internally snaps at that asshole part of him which keeps getting his hopes up. David offering to do this is good. This helps and it’s good.

Thank you, Matteo responds. When can we meet?

He sends it before he realizes just how desperate it sounds and flushes, despite being alone. He really doesn’t need David to know either how much Matteo needs the money or how much he would like to see him again. This sort of thing is exactly what he was warning himself about when he told himself firmly that he shouldn’t visit the store again.

I finish in an hour. So maybe at 16.30?

Like a rollercoaster, Matteo’s emotions are flung around again. David wants to meet again. Today. Not just today, but as soon as he can today. That’s got to mean something, right? Something other than just perfect customer service. Matteo smiles at his phone, a giddy rush of adrenaline hitting him. This is dumb, he thinks, but it’s not enough to push the smile off his face.

Even if this is just for a utilitarian reason, he gets to meet David again. Outside of the rigid confines of the stilted luxury of his workplace, too. The mere idea of seeing those eyes, the sure and sexy hands, the piercing that’s been haunting his dreams the last few days, is enough to set butterflies off in his stomach. He’s just like a stupid teenager with a crush, Matteo realizes. Exactly the way he was when he had a hopeless crush on Jonas and read too deeply into every interaction.

Still. This feels different, too. This feels like there’s maybe something in David’s eyes that’s heated and interested. The helpless pained longing for Jonas isn’t here this time. Partly because this feeling is so new and isn’t dragging any baggage behind it, and partly because the way David looks at Matteo is promising in a way that Jonas never was. David’s eyes had lingered, and his body had appeared affected, nervous, in a way that Matteo hasn’t often had people seem when they look at him.

It’s not a date. Matteo knows this, knows David is probably just being nice. And yet, he can’t help the flustered, delighted joy that swamps him, or the frisson that runs through his body, when he realizes that he gets to talk to him again. And soon.

He checks his phone again, his eyes lingering over the last message even as he takes in the time and calculates how long the rest of his errands will take and how likely he is to make it to the market on time.

Sounds good, he replies to David’s text finally, trying hard not to look too eager, trying not to look as desperate as he really is. He smiles at the thumbs up he gets in return and turns back to his jobs. Suddenly they don’t seem as dull as they did just a few minutes ago, and Matteo is humming as he pulls his mother’s list from his pocket and hurries his steps just a little more than before.

David

He doesn’t notice that he’s holding his breath until he gets the message back from Matteo accepting his offer to meet, and an ugly relieved gasp bursts from his lips. He flushes, glances around to see if anyone has noticed. Thankfully, his coworker is hard at work, deep in conversation with a young couple with big eyes and earnest expressions. David refocuses. Less than an hour before he can leave. Then less than half an hour before he can meet up with Matteo again.

The time drags, his last customer infuriatingly slow and indecisive and bouncing between one fabulous piece that would boost David’s numbers beautifully and one that’s much less impressive. In the end, the man sighs and buys the cheaper necklace. It’s several minutes after the time when David was supposed to leave to see Matteo and he doesn’t even have a good sale to show for it.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling through gritted teeth at the man who is slowly putting his things back into his bag and pockets, arranging and rearranging them until he’s satisfied. “I’m sure she will love it.”

As soon as the man has turned to walk out, David rushes to the back of the store, grabs his things and yells his goodbyes to his coworker as he practically runs out the door. Thankfully, there are no customers around, so David doesn’t get the disapproving stare from the more rule abiding staff members. Instead, he gets a fond smile and a cheerful wave. It’s a good sign, he thinks. Today, despite the shittiness of the customer he just served, he feels on top of the world, even more so as he pushes himself faster so he can get to the market on time.

He’s panting when he arrives, a few minutes late and with his heart pounding in his chest. Partly from the run, but at least partly because he’s about to see Matteo again. Somewhere a little more freeing than the stilted confines of his store. It’s crowded in the market, which David hadn’t really considered well when he suggested this as a meeting place. It’s not going to be easy to find Matteo in this melee, and David is kicking himself for the stupid romantic impulse that made him consider this a good spot to be together rather than a more conventional cafe of some type.

He scans the crowds, unsure where to even start his attempt to find Matteo. It’s so big, and noisy. Filled with people and things … and he really wishes he’d had the forethought to give a better spot to meet than just ‘that flea market’ because as it is time is ticking by and Matteo could be anywhere.

“Flea markets don’t carry fleas, you know?” a voice says in his ear and David starts, panic swamping him, an icy flood of adrenaline and nerves. He spins only to be replaced with a warm rush of relief when he sees Matteo’s grinning face close to his own.

“You’re an asshole,” David says, but he can hear the traitorous fondness in his voice.

Matteo gives him a weird look. “Is that the way you talk to all your customers?” he asks

David laughs and spreads his arms wide to indicate the spaces around them. “You’re not a customer here,” he says. “Do you see any shitty jewellery around here?” he asks.

“Yes, over there.” Matteo points in the direction of a nearby stall which is selling something leather and handmade.

“Funny,” David says, incapable of keeping the smile off his face, and noticing with a warmth that spreads quickly through his chest that Matteo is also smiling back at him. In a way that David is almost sure isn’t just gratitude for help with his ring. Which turns his attention towards what they’re ostensibly here for. “Can I ask you something?” he says carefully, checking to see if Matteo is offended by the question.

Matteo doesn’t look offended, exactly, but he does seem wary, with his eyes flickering towards David and his lip chewed in between his teeth. He nods, with one quick look at David, who makes sure he’s smiling as naturally as he can.

“Why … what makes you want to sell the ring?” he asks, and is baffled when Matteo’s shoulders slump in what looks like relief even while his body tenses and he looks away.

“My mother … she’s not well. And she needs some money for some treatment. Expensive treatment that we can’t afford.”

“Ah,” David says, nodding. The riddle of why Matteo wanted to sell is answered, both more mundane and more sad than David had expected. It makes sense now why Matteo would have been so caught up in how much the ring would sell for.

Matteo’s answer had seemed like a definitive statement, his mother’s requirements something that just was, so David’s a little surprised when Matteo speaks again with a bitter tone to his voice, one that he’s not sure he’d have expected from Matteo even though he barely knows the guy.

“My dad fucked off and left us when I was seventeen. And … well, the ring was his. So it was going to be this big ‘fuck you’ to him, selling his prized heirloom. Except …”

“Except it’s not what you thought it was.” David nods again. It really does make a lot of sense out of all the ways Matteo’s behavior has been slightly different to that of other guys who’ve been valuing rings for sale.

“Yeah.”

Matteo’s pensive now, his eyes faraway, clearly thinking about the ring and what it means to him if the slightly sour twist to his lips is any indication.

And this … this isn’t how David had seen the afternoon going when he’d suggested it. So now he’s kicking himself for having suggested the ring thing as a cover, and for bringing it up when they were just starting to relax together here. It’s like he wants to sabotage himself.

“So,” he says in his cheeriest voice, trying to distract Matteo from whatever it is that he’s inadvertently dragged up, “what do you want to do first?”

“First?”

Matteo’s attention snaps to David and he’s suddenly far less melancholy-looking, a bright, almost eager bloom appearing on his cheeks and in his eyes, a bloom which makes David’s chest pool with something soft and warm.

“Well …” David says, “we could look around here for a bit, you know, make the most of our time at the market. Or we could do your ring thing.” He grins at Matteo, lets his eyes brighten and his expression soften. “And then we could come back to the market in the evening, when it’s all lit up.”

Matteo swallows, his throat making a really distracting column as he tilts his head up in thought. His eyes shift to David’s and a small smile flickers onto his lips before disappearing almost as quickly.

“I … like the lights,” he says quietly. His gaze remains firm and steadfast on David’s, and butterflies suddenly take flight in his stomach, gently swooping. “So … uh, we should do the ring first, maybe.”

Matteo’s voice is impossibly soft, and David can feel the stupid butterflies getting faster now, swarnimg en mass in his stomach. He’s not quite brave enough to clarify, to make sure Matteo truly understands that he wants this to be a date. But he thinks Matteo might have got that. The way his voice hesitated a little as he said he likes lights and the way his eyes had looked, dark and purposeful, when he’d said they should do the ring first … well, David sure hopes it means what he thinks it means.

continue to chapter four

#druck #davenzi #my fic stuff #my prompt stuff #my ask stuff #Anonymous

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kemetic-dreams · 5 years

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HEAVEN & HELL

By Nora Amrani September, 1998

Most religions preach about heaven and hell, and how those who either do or do not believe in one thing or another will inevitably end up in one of these two places. What are hell and heaven? Are they real? Where are they? And who gets to go where?

Christianized Hell is portrayed as such a real and frightening place filled with monsters and Satan, where one is punished for their sins and suffers eternally. There is no way out. Oh, you know the pictures that have been painted by Dali and other artists depicting the burning pit where those not worthy of being recognized or loved by God are tossed, abandoned and tortured. Damned for eternity.

Heaven, on the other hand, is supposed to be eternal bliss. And only the very worthy end up in Heaven. With the stringent demands made on humans to be everything but human, (never mind seeing human as divine) while being constantly reminded that they are sinful and unworthy of heaven, heaven must be very under-populated. In fact, with all those rules to be met, I can't imagine one person being successfully led through those pearly gates! Can you? (No, not even Mother Theresa - she believed that she was less than divine, herself.)

FUN WITH ETYMOLOGY

Hell and heaven are very dramatically presented, aren't they? But do we even know what these words mean? Could it be we have all been fed non-sequiturs for centuries to the point where we no longer remember what these words really mean, therefore we live in constant confusion (like the Tower of Babel) because we don't properly use our language? Wow - just imagine what that does to our communcations on all levels with one another!

Hell: Prepare yourselves for a possible shock: The word 'hel' means 'light.' It also means 'earth.' Check your Germanic dictionaries if you don't believe me. In fact, check many languages and find the meaning of the word 'hell.' Some will say it means 'cover.' If hell is such a negative place, then why do we refer to the sun, who gives us life, warmth and nurtures us, as 'helios?" Perhaps the thought of diving into the sun would be hell, itself. Maybe that's how it all originated? But, realistically, you wouldn't even make it that close without first disintegrating. Ah, but then you'd become pure energy, pure light, just like the sun, itself! Your real essence, in other words. Why, we even used to worship* gods representing the sun's energy - Ra, ApolIo, for example. So, why would it be something to be feared and avoided, at all costs?

A 'demon in hell' can also be called a 'genius in the light.' Demon, or daemon, has conflicting meanings. It can mean our inner genius, divinity or genie. It is a word sharing the same root thing as 'diamond!' Some dictionaries say demons are inferior divinity or evil spirits. How can they be both? Both divine, genius and evil? Think about it. Do they not cancel one another out? Or, can we put all under one divine umbrella? What definitions have you been taught?

The horns on the devil are also used to depict great divine light emanating through the individual. Same thing was shown with Hathor, Moses, White Buffalo Woman. It is a positive symbol of higher consciousness and knowledge, not evil.

Devil comes from the Sanskrit world meaning 'deva,' which relates to the good angels of the Hindu pantheon. Were you taught that Satan means adversary or plotter? 'Adverse' meaning 'to turn towards?' After Zoroaster and the Persians conquered Hindu territory the conquerers miraculously transformed the Hindu gods into devils! So, the Hindu devas became the Persians devils.

If we look at the pattern of religious manipulation through language, the word "daemon" was changed into having a evil implication. "It was just more Christian propaganda used to brainwash the followers of the Greek and Roman religions into rejecting their old gods in favor of the newly created Christian character," as one scholar explains. This old ploy cunningly used good timing to coincide with the burning of millions of books; books which had they not been burned would have allowed people to see the truth of how they were being lied to. And the word 'evil' actually comes from the same root as the word 'apple,' which is 'upfel.' Who decided that apples were evil? The apple itself isn't evil.

Rabbi Ahron Lopiansky explains that Judaism talks of "Satan/devil," but it sees Satan as "...an agent of God, testing the sincerity of man's deeds, the strength of his convictions, and the stamina of his moral fiber. Although this so-called devil seems to entice man to do wrong, he is not inherently an evil being. Rather, he is conducting a "sting" operation; overtly enticing to bad, but in reality working for God. A cursory reading of the beginning of Job conveys that message: God sends out Satan to test Job's righteousness. Just as a dentist or doctor tests the firmness of a bone or flesh by probing it, just as the army tests the integrity and trustworthiness of its intelligence agents by tempting them, so too does God test man. A test reveals the inner worthiness of a person's deeds, demonstrating what they are really made of."

Heaven: Could this word come from 'heave' - meaning to toss, lift or raise? Those lofty ideas. No doubt it does. And what about 'heavy,' meaning 'weighty.' This can get to be lots of fun, eh? 'Ven' means 'air.' 'Ven' can also be 'van,' which means 'sail,' 'wing,' 'basket,' and it can be a shovel used in testing ore; and of course, it now means a type of large vehicle capable of transporting many people. The more accurate root of "heaven" comes from "haven." The word "heaven" also has its roots in Hebrew in "ha'shamayim," which means "the skies," " high places." Maybe you can come up with some other meanings for it. See the conflicts over and over in modern language?

Worship...another interesting word. "War" means literally "war," or "where," and "ship" meaning a "state" or "condition." The word religion is interesting, too. "Re" means "back," or "again," or even "in reference to." "Legion" is "a body of infantry in the ancient Roman army"; or "vast host." Re-legion. Armies of God in a war ship? Is religion about war? Or hosts of God?

Now that the brief etymology portion is over, let's get into the other areas of what these words have come to mean to a great many people in the religious and social sense. In fact, they have come to dictate and control much of our beliefs and lives.

AN ANCIENT STORY OF THE FALLEN ANGELS

The ideas of Satan and fallen angels are our own planetary collective consciousness' idea of viewing things negatively. One explanation is that it represents the fall of ourselves into this dimension of materiality and polarity, forgetting our divine selves and our spirituality. Satan is backwards for "natas" - which later became "nahash" the serpent. So, what everyone THOUGHT was evil, is actually the opposite. That term is related to the Sirian-Anunnaki being, Enki, in the following:

The archetypal, mythological concept of fallen angels originated approximately 450,000 years ago when the last of the extraterrestrial beings from a satellite planet named Nibiru, known on Earth as the Anunnaki, (a group of Lyran off-shoots who stemmed from one of their more infamous members, Anu, Enki, Enlil, Inanna, etc.), had their final expedition to Earth and, in a sense, left one group "stranded" here. Since the Anunnaki were known as "the gods," and these "gods" came from the heavens and were seen as being angels because of their amazing abilities and longevity. There were conficts between the Anunnaki themselves. Nefilim, or "those who came down," is another way of talking about this group of the Anunnaki. Some of the Anunnaki wanted humans to see them as God and did not honor free will. For this they were punished and expelled from certain galactic federations. This is where the idea of the fallen angels originally came from and various accounts of it are found in the Bahgavad Gita, the bibles and other cultural origin stories.

Enki was known as the serpent of wisdom, healing and life who had a great hand in creation, the waters of life (sperm, DNA, etc.) i.e., the Garden of Eden. Enki was frequently humanity's supporter. Biblical writers called the healing serpent Nehushtan. The Hebrew word for serpent is "nahash." The root of the word are the Hebrew letters Nun, Het and Shin, which means "to guess." This was translated into other languages as "satan," which some say mean "enemy," or "adversary."

Enki's identity, as Lord of Earth or In Earth (EN.KI), and EA (whose house is water) is reflected in other names, as well: Adonai, Aton, Aten, Adom, Adam, Amen. (Linguistic paleontology is a marvelous and vast area for proving these connections.) The name EARTH also comes from EA/Enki. Actually, the name "human" can be traced to Enki (a.k.a. EA) and his half-sister and wife, the chief geneticist Ninti (the mother goddess of all life). HU is a transliteration of the ancient Sumerian EA (Grimms' law of interchangeable letters and sounds). HU was also Horus, by the way. So a human is an EAman.

In India, the "nagas" were the serpent gods/goddesses. In the Americas there was Quetzlcoatl (Enki/Thoth). The entire world has worshipped the serpent for its wisdom, but ironically, it was not really about snakes at all - unless you feel you have to "guess" what a snake is up to! Why was the snake chosen? For its cleverness, ability to survive in the harshest of environments, and again, its shape resembling the flow of energy up the spine - to the crown chakra, and the third eye. And perhaps because it naturally instilled a bit of caution or awe in people. Was Enki really a snake? No, not literally.

THE REALITY

Both heaven and hell are places created with those of like mind and emotions - thoughts and feelings so intense that it creates a vortex of bioelectomagnetic energy so concentrated that it densifies and materializes. This material form can be ectoplasmic or physical. It takes on the form of the creator's beliefs. This form resonates with like energies, drawing them to one another. (Like attracts like.) This, then, creates a larger vortex of the same energy. And it keeps growing and building and desiring it's life to be continually fed. This, then, becomes a real gathering place.

Yes, heaven does exist. But it is a very complex dimension with many options. Many people experience it with the smell of flowers, with music, and always with lots of love. There is a gathering place for souls getting ready to make their transition from their physical form into spirit, and for those who have just crossed over. There are healing rooms. There are educational rooms. It offers freedom of choice to wherever your soul wants to learn and you plan your next move there.

Hell actually is a dimension of energy that is created by self-judgement and condemnation, ergo punishment. Its essence is fear and forgetfulness of love and light. It's energy contains fear, anger, powerlessness, (including guilt, martyrdom, pain, sadness), and it is a very difficult place from which to escape because it builds on itself. It is a very sad and dark place and even though there are many souls there, it feels so lonely. Ironically, the fear of being in what people believe to be hell may actually create that kind of hell, itself.

In the case of "hell," the only way these energies can be nourished is by having more of the same energy filling it up, adding more fuel to the fire. In order to stay alive it seeks out its food in many ways. Finding a weakness, such as addiction, within a person to attach itself to is one way. Attaching to the little bit of belief in that individual it can use for its own survival. And it can also be utilized by people performing certain rituals to get a life force that can be manipulated and directed. You see, the life force, the energy, never dies. It changes form, and its form can be intentionally changed. These energies will seek out others and build on itself unless we become conscious of them and choose to release them through other avenues. There are ways out of hell, but it often requires help from the other dimensions helping a soul remember love and personal empowerment, choice, freedom.

Be it heaven or hell, we create our reality through our experiences, our thoughts, beliefs, imagination, words, and our desire, and will. One way we can become conscious of how and what we create is through meditation, or going within and contacting the God within ourselves. We always have the choice whether to create our own heaven or hell wherever we are. And that creation begins nowhere else except from within ourselves.

#kemetic dreams #hell #heaven #etymology

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thestupidhelmet · 5 years

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I just read a wonderful short fic "Mother Listen to My Heart" by portions_for_fox which was about Hyde's terrible childhood, and it got me thinking about the Eric and Hyde friendship and the way both were there for each other on many occasions. Since I love your meta pieces, would you care to write one about the Eric and Hyde relationship on the show and how you feel about it?

Sure!

First, I’ll talk briefly about Eric/Donna/Hyde non-triangle triangle. That storyline was used to illustrate how great Eric is by using Hyde as his villainous foil, and it seems like a non-sequitur to the rest of the show. The aftermath isn’t treated with any depth or consideration for Donna, who is the main injured party in this scenario, not Eric.

In “Halloween” (2x05) and “Eric’s Stash” (2x12), however, Hyde’s betrayal of Eric is the show’s focus. Donna’s experience of having her wishes and boundaries ignored and violated repeatedly by Hyde is never discussed or explored. It needed to be, and Hyde needed to demonstrate true remorse for his treatment of Donna. But That ‘70s Show’s characters and storylines were written inconsistently, so one has to find consistency where one can.

With that part of the show out of the way…

The deeper, more private dynamic of Hyde and Eric’s friendship is first revealed in “Career Day” (1x18). Hyde seeks out Eric at the Formans’ after his mom both invalidates her abuse of him and criticizes him by saying he’s just like the man who abandoned them both: his dad. Hyde is visibly upset , close to tears,when he finds Red in the garage, and asks if “Forman is around”.

When Red says Eric isn’t home, Hyde slides down the side of the Vista Cruiser to the ground, another visible sign of his emotional distress. He admits to Red, “Edna’s riding me again about being just like my dad, so I just took off.”

As we learn very shortly, in the season’s following episodes, “ Hyde rarely expresses his pain to others directly, but this scene in “Career Day” indicates that Hyde probably did share his feelings with Eric when they got too intense. I’d go so far as to say that Eric is the only one who knew just how bad Edna and Bud’s abuse and neglect of him was during his childhood.

In “Hyde Moves In” (1x24), Eric walks in on Hyde when Edna tells Hyde, over the phone, that she’s left for good. Hyde tries to deny it to Eric, to himself, but Eric persists, and Hyde admits that Edna’s not coming back. During a circle, Eric tells their friends about this, and they’re too high to care. Eric is high, too, but he keeps trying to get their friends to focus on Hyde’s predicament.

Later in the episode, Eric tells his parents what happened.

KITTY: Eric, I’m sure she’s not abandoning Steven.She’s his mother!ERIC: Mom, her exact words were, “I know I’m your mother,but I’m abandoning you, Steven.”

We don’t see Hyde telling Eric this bit of information in the earlier scene where they talk in Hyde’s house. But either Eric made up that info to stir his mom into action or, more likely, Hyde told Eric what Edna said over the phone. This is consistent with Hyde seeking Eric out in “Career Day”.

Further, in “Punk Chick” (1x22), the following scene happens:

HYDE: It is, too, my suitcase!EDNA: Nothing in this house is yours!HYDE: Shut up!

[On the porch outside]HYDE: Bitch.ERIC: So your mom’s taking it pretty hard [that you’re leaving], huh?HYDE: Oh, I haven’t told her yet. ERIC: So Hyde, you’re, like, really going through with this.HYDE: Yeah, man. I mean, you know, I know people spit on you [in New York City] and the rats are as big as your head or whatever, but this might be my only chance to escape, Forman.

Eric is the only person Hyde speaks to this way about himself until much later in the series. He eventually trusts Red, Kitty, and Jackie with his feelings, but Eric clearly has that trust long before That ‘70s Show begins. Hyde will share parts of his pain with others to help or comfort them, as he does with Donna in “Red’s Birthday” (2x10), but seeking out or accepting help and comfort from other people? That isn’t his way – except with Eric.

During “Hyde Moves In,” before Edna tells Hyde she’s not coming back, the following scene happens:

ERIC: Hey, Dad, can I talk to you for a second? Do you think that Hyde could stay for dinner?RED: Oh, Eric, again? I can’t afford to feed your friends!I can’t even afford to feed you, but the law requires me to.ERIC: Look, his mom’s out of town.RED: All right. [To Hyde] But you have to fill up on bread! And the two of youare splitting a pork chop!

[Red leaves.]

HYDE: Thanks, man!ERIC: Oh, no problem!” HYDE [playfully]: So, you do know you’re not getting any of that porkchop, right?ERIC [also playfully]: Is that so?

Hyde must have been going hungry for days; otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked Eric if he could stay for dinner. This happens at least twice, and Eric seems very happy he can help, even if it means he gets less food himself. Their banter at the end also demonstrates their closeness. It’s a playfully intimate moment between friends, which is repeated at the end of the episode once Hyde moves into the Formans’ house.

Hyde acts angry that Eric interfered in his life: “This blows, man! When I was living at home, I didn’t have to answer anybody! I made my own rules! You screwed me, Forman! I told you this is none of your business,” but Eric smiles, as if amused, the whole time Hyde rants. He knows Hyde well enough to see through Hyde’s bluster. He’s not put off by Hyde’s seeming ingratitude because he understands that this is Hyde’s defense mechanism. Earlier in the episode, when Eric learns Edna abandoned Hyde:

ERIC: I’m serious here! You need help my friend.HYDE: No, Forman, you would need help. I’ll be fine.

Hyde has had to fend for himself so long that admitting his vulnerability is hard for him. Eric, being the good friend that he is, doesn’t push it. He gives Hyde his help – in the above scene, it’s a sandwich, which Hyde eats as if he’s been starving – without comment.

In the later scene, after Hyde moves in, Eric sees Hyde’s true face when Mrs. Forman treats Eric and Hyde with equal amounts of love and affection. She gives both of them cocoa, cookies, and kisses to the top of their head. Hyde is visibly happy, but once Kitty leaves, he returns to his angry facade. He’s likely afraid of being seen as weak, which was dangerous in his home with Edna, and this is another part of Hyde that Eric understands. But when Hyde says, “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass! Are you gonna eat your cookies?” Eric gives Hyde his cookies with an amused smile. He knows his friend and doesn’t take Hyde’s self-protection/survival mechanism personally.

In this episode, we see how much Eric will do to protect Hyde. In the next episode, “The Good Son” (1x25), we see how much Hyde will sacrifice to protect Eric. Throughout the episode, Hyde demonstrates his gratitude to the Formans by doing chores not only willingly but cheerfully. Eric grows jealous and insecure, and this leads him to doing a reckless deed: bouncing a bowling ball from the top of the living room couch.

The bowling ball breaks the TV. Red is furious when he finds out, but Hyde – out of gratitude for all Eric has done for him – tries to take the fall. Even though it possibly means becoming homeless. At worst, Eric would get grounded and have to pay to replace the TV, but Hyde’s consequences would potentially be life-threatening. Hyde doesn’t care, though. His friendship and loyalty to Eric come first.

This dynamic is paralleled in “Reefer Madness” (3x01). Hyde takes the fall for Jackie’s pot and stays quiet about the truth, despite that Red kicks him out of the house because of it. Hyde puts his own physical safety and future last on his list, valuing Jackie’s safety ahead of his own, regardless that the consequences to her would probably be less dire. But Eric can’t let his best friend become homeless.

ERIC [to Hyde]: Man, this is so wrong! Look, I’m not gonna let you get kicked out for something we all do.KELSO: Hey, hey, don’t go dragging me into this.ERIC: You know what? I’m gonna tell Red that I do it, too.HYDE, KELSO, DONNA, FEZ: No!

[…]

ERIC: This can work. If I tell Red, then he’s gonna be a hypocrite for kicking you out – and not making me go with [you]. Because, I mean, he can’t kick me out. Because, deep down, he loves me.HYDE: Look, Forman. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, you know? But you getting into trouble is not going to help me get out of trouble, okay? … Okay?

Eric is the only one out of all their friends who is willing to put himself in danger for Hyde, and Hyde is adamant that Eric not do this. Their friendship, their love, for each other is obvious in this scene.

Eric doesn’t listen to Hyde and does tell Red that he smokes pot, too. Of course, by then, Donna has revealed the truth to Red and Kitty that the pot was Jackie’s. This is Donna’s way of helping Hyde and Eric. She does what Hyde refused to do: rat out Jackie, who doesn’t get into any trouble as we know.

In “Eric’s Depression” (4x02), Eric’s friends want to take him to Funland to cheer him up. Eric says he doesn’t want to go. Hyde and Kelso physically drag Eric out of his bed, but Eric crawls back into it, and Hyde teases him about losing Donna. That seems insensitive, and it is, but joking and sarcasm are two of Hyde’s defense mechanisms when he’s emotionally uncomfortable.

Almost right after this moment, however, the following exchange takes place:

ERIC: Guys, I don’t want to talk about Donna … and I don’t want to go toFunland.HYDE: Fine. If you’re not going with us, we’ll stay here with you.

Hyde sits on the edge of Eric’s bed, willing to stay there in silence, to listen, to talk, or do all of the above for hours. Kelso doesn’t want to do this. Fez’s input isn’t given, but Eric makes clear he doesn’t want company, and Hyde obliges.

Hyde does all he’s capable of doing in that moment to try to help Eric. Even though Eric couldn’t be helped by him, needing his dad instead, that doesn’t invalidate the friendship Hyde shows Eric in this episode – and throughout season 4 as Eric deals with his breakup with Donna.

In “The Third Wheel” (4x11), Hyde breaks up with his girlfriend / fling of the week (i.e. Jill) so that he can be supportive of Eric (through spending time with him). Jill and Eric don’t get along. They treat each other disrespectfully, and Hyde chooses his friendship with Eric over potential of having sex with Jill.

In “Eric’s False Alarm” (4x25), Hyde stays up all night, pulling the fire alarm at the Le Motel so that Donna and Casey won’t have sex the first time. Granted, Hyde probably does this out of trying to protect Donna as much as Eric; and though earlier Hyde is rather sarcastic toward Eric when Eric expresses his dismay at Donna and Casey’s night together, Hyde’s support of Eric is evident through his actions.

“Class Picture” (4x20) is an episode whose flashbacks I don’t treat as canon, except for how Hyde, Eric, and Kelso meet Fez the first time. They contradict too much of what we’d long been told about the characters’ relationships. I do believe that Hyde protected Eric from bullies at school but without needing to be paid. Hyde is shown since “Prom Night” (1x19) to be protective of the vulnerable, whether they’re strangers, people he generally can’t stand, or friends. No way he wouldn’t protect Eric, his closest friend, from harm at school.

Eric and Hyde’s bond is one of my favorites on the show. I enjoy exploring their bond in fanfic. The events of Hyde’s Long Way Home happen, in large part, because of Eric’s absence in Hyde’s life. Eric is a guiding star for Hyde. Without him, Hyde becomes lost.

I see them as viewing each other as brothers, ones who’d go to the ends of the Earth to protect each other, as in my fic Beneath a Shattered Sky.

They need each other in their lives, and they might just be platonic soulmates. Two of the new fanfics I’m writing will explore different aspects of their friendship (and, fate willing, I will finish and post those stories).

#That 70s Show #That '70s Show #Eric Forman #Steven Hyde #Eric and Hyde #Meta #Essay #My Meta #My Essay #Fanfic #Ask #luscious2

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aura-alora · 5 years

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Why Dany turning “mad” is so disappointing

Full disclaimer, I quit half-way through episode 4 and have only seen episode 5 through spoilers.

Like a lot of ‘holier-than-thou’ fans of the show are all like, “if you didn’t see this coming you haven’t being paying attention” and I get it. I really do. If you look at GoT with a “Dany is a villain lens” you’ll see a lot of ‘evidence’ for it.

But it’s such a disappointing “twist” to me because Dany was the first time we saw the classic Buldingsroman with a female character. She was framed as a hero, a conqueror, a warrior. And she wasn’t afraid to own her sexuality. She wasn’t afraid to own her femininity. In fact, she used it to her advantage, to gain power over the Khal (a la Cersei, ‘your greatest weapon is between your legs’) and become a respected leader in her own right.

And she was flawed. She made bad decisions. She lost her temper. She let her emotions get the better of her. But that was what made her human. She was not this perfect Mary-Sue who got everything she wanted just because of her name. She started the series penniless, sold like a brood-mare by her brother (who also abused her incessantly--”you don’t want to wake the dragon”), she was raped, not even treated as a person; mounted like dog takes his bitch. And she turned it around. She took what was hers with ‘fire and blood’. She adapted to the Dothraki when she needed to, she adapted to Quarth as she needed to and once she took Mereen--she didn’t have to adapt anymore. She was strong enough on her own. And I’m not talking about physical strength. She had AMAZING mental fortitude. She survived Khal Drogo, and instead of breaking, she grew stronger. She walked through the desert with nothing but a few woman and children, even less horses and no blood riders and they all almost died. She humbled herself in Quaarth, and got manipulated--almost losing her children in the process--but she learned. And she rose up. And she fought back.

She destroyed the slavers, she freed the slaves. Yeah, maybe she could be considered cruel in how she dealt with the ‘masters’--but that’s what made her human. She was ANGRY. Not one of us can say if we saw that someone crucified CHILDREN just to send a message we wouldn’t be angry too.

Most people feel that it’s JUSTIFIED to want the Nazis to be punished right? Remember the Nuremberg Trials? Did anyone say the Allies were cruel for executing people who were already beaten? Not in any history book I’ve read, that’s for sure. Did anyone say Alexander the Great was ‘power-hungry’ when he took over half of Europe? None that I can find...in fact, they called him great. And arguably he killed hundreds of thousands in his wars of conquest that weren’t even needed, really. But he gets to be known as a powerful conqueror who never lost a battle and only stopped cos his soldiers were tired.

But put Dany in this same position and suddenly she’s a bad guy. Suddenly she’s a “mad Queen”. And it just rubs me the wrong way. Here we FINALLY have a woman, doing all the things that the stereo-typical male hero usually does, and this is how her story ends. She’s a villain. She’s hysterical. Because God forbid a woman is THE hero at the end of it all.

Please tell me if you can think of any other female HERO that got half the depth that Dany has. That literally CARRIED an entire arc, just like Jon or Robb or Ned did. And she wasn’t just fighting for herself, but for all the people that followed her. She was a leader, and people loved her. I CRAVE THAT SHIT. It’s literally the stories I loved to read growing up, but for once with a female character getting shit done instead of a male. (I mean the only other character like Dany I can think of is Ciri, and her story is a subset of Gerald’s and it’s not really *her* story...I guess Katniss also counts, but I kind of felt like Katniss was a blank slate cos of PTSD).

And yea, she makes bad decisions. And yea, she is cold sometimes. But so were other characters. Jon looked at man literally crying for his life to be spared and took it anyway. Arya literally baked people into pies and mass-murdered an entire family like BLOODY SOCIOPATH. But they get to be heroes because the story makes it so. And yes there are a lot of strong female characters in GOT, but none like Dany. None that actually emerge as LEADERS.

I think maybe what would’ve made the whole thing more palatable was if Dany still did the whole thing, but she was portrayed as morally justified (in her own mind)--kind of like the US with the ‘A-bomb’. Many historians argue that without the US dropping the A-bomb, many more lives would have been lost in a needless and drawn out war with the Japanese. Whether they are right or wrong doesn’t really matter, it depends on perspective. But here it’s like they’re slapping you in the face with “This action is bad and there is no justification for it” after literally justifying almost every one of her actions up until this point. It’s a non-sequitur. And IMO goes totally against the idea that there are no inherently ‘good’ or ‘bad’ people, just people who are driven by circumstance. Like many would argue Stalin was a ‘bad person’, but fact remains that he build the USSR from nothing to an economical powerhouse during the Cold War and many Russians still consider him one of the greatest leaders they’ve ever had. (“Mad King” comparisons aside lol) Why couldn’t Dany get that? Why couldn’t she be “evil”, but still bring stability to the realm?

Why did it have to be her and not Jon (Gary Stu) Snow? We’ve had Jon’s story a million times, in a million different ways. Aragorn, Artemis Fowl, Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, Geralt etc. How many times have we had a story like Dany’s? I’m just so dissatisfied that we finally get a woman doing all these stereo-typical male beats, just to have her end tragically because of reasons. Just for her to be another mad Targaryen. Just for her to repeat the cycle of her ancestors. What a fantastical waste of a character. I’m pretty sure at this point even Dany has given up on being a hero, which is tragic. After sacrificing half her army for Westeros. After sacrificing her best friend, her closest advisor, her two CHILDREN for Westeros. I wish the story ended with her just fucking off to rule Essos and leaving Westeros to fall to bloody pieces since apparently they don’t need her there. But I know it won’t, because heaven forbid Dany actually makes the smart decision to abandon all these fuckwits who don’t appreciate her and go back to the people who do.

I’m currently writing my own story, and one of the positives of this whole experience is that I’m gonna make damn sure I don’t do my female characters this dirty. Yeah, some of them are villains. But I’m gonna be sure that even though they are villains, you should be able to see that they think they are the heroes in their story.

#personal #thoughts #got #game of thrones #spoilers #in defense of Dany #daenerys targaryen #analysis

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taizi · 5 years

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twice the heart

natsume yuujinchou pairing: nishinatsu word count: 2367 title borrowed from more heart, less attack by needtobreathe: “be the never turning back twice the heart any man could have”

written for @natsume-ss ! my giftee this year was @nesushii, i really hope you like it ! <3 read on ao3

When Shuuichi extends the invitation, he’s largely expecting Natsume to turn it down.

Instead, the other side of the phone call drops into thoughtful silence, and then Natsume’s quiet voice says, “Would I be able to bring someone with me?”

To say Shuuichi would agree to anything Natsume asked of him is a stretch, but not much of one. Natsume could express an interest in bringing his whole high school class along and Shuuichi would find a way to make it happen.

“I must say I’m surprised,” Shuuichi teases, once they’ve gotten Touko’s glowing permission and made the appropriate arrangements. “I didn’t think my movies were of any interest to you, and now you’re going to spend a weekend on set?”

“Well,” Natsume says with a hint of warm humor, “my friend is a big fan.”

Shuuichi is always happy to meet a fan, devoting more time to autographs and interviews than his publicist would like, but this is a special case. He’s acutely aware that the russet-haired boy before him now, half-hiding behind Natsume’s shoulder, isn’t just another movie enthusiast.

Because while Nishimura flushes and stammers and can’t seem to decide whether he should gape at Shuuichi or just stare at his own feet, Natsume watches his antics with a wide smile. This is someone Natsume is fond of, at the very least, and from what little Shuuichi knows about Natsume’s very lonely past, that makes Nishimura someone more than worthy of the VIP treatment.

They tour the set, meet a few of the other actors, peek into an empty wardrobe suite. It’s all just this side of mundane for Shuuichi, and it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that Natsume isn’t moved either, and Nyanko-sensei looks like he wouldn’t so much as bat an eye if the entire building was to go up in flames, but Nishimura more than makes up for their lack of enthusiasm. He’s bright-eyed and spilling a dozen questions and tugging Natsume into countless selfies as they go, and buoys the mood into something wonderful.

The afternoon is a pleasure, really. While getting Natsume to admit to anything more than “school was okay” is like pulling teeth, Nishimura is an eager conversationalist, and launches into charming anecdotes of countryside shenanigans with very little prompting on Shuuichi’s part.

In two hours, Shuuichi has learned Natsume’s favorite color, his least favorite food, the title of a book series he’s been binge-reading for the last two weeks, and the entire story of how he and Taki and Kitamoto all got stuck up the same tree. That’s more than he’s learned from Natsume in almost a year.

Perhaps most remarkably, Natsume doesn’t mind at all. He watches Nishimura the way Shuuichi has seen people watch their favorite part of their favorite movie, every now and then smiling in a faint, knee-jerk way that says he’s unaware his mouth moved at all.

Ah, Shuuichi thinks gleefully. So that’s it.

Nishimura has been a delight all afternoon, sunny and cheerful and energetic enough to make up for Natsume’s disinterest twice over, but as morning fades into afternoon something changes.

It’s a gradual shift, one that Shuuichi doesn’t notice right away. The boy’s smiles, so automatic before, seem to be a reach now. He’s a little slower to pick up conversation, eyes trailing narrowly away. If it were Natsume, Shuuichi would be certain there was a yokai problem afoot-- but when he cuts a quick glance at Hiiragi, paranoid despite himself, she shakes her head.

By the time they sit down for lunch, Nishimura is outright scowling.

“Let’s do something else for the rest of the day,” he says without warning, and Natsume blinks up from his meal, looking as bewildered by the non-sequitur as Shuuichi feels.

“What? You’ve been looking forward to this forever. I thought you’d beg Natori to let you live here.”

“C’mon, Natsume,” Nishimura wheedles. “There’s a whole city out there to see! Who knows when we’ll be back here again?”

It looks like a familiar exchange, Natsume longsuffering and Nishimura petulant. Shuuichi thinks he’s getting a good idea of what their usual dynamics are like, when Natsume is the first to give in with good grace, and Nishimura smiles like they both knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

“Well,” Natsume finally says, “Natori is our host, so it’s up to him.”

If he was expecting Shuuichi to shut Nishimura down, he should have known better.

“I’d be happy to get away from work, actually,” Shuuichi says with a winning smile. If something back at the studio is the reason behind Nishimura’s soured mood, then Shuuichi is more than willing to play hooky for the day. It’s not as though they could fire him. “Consider me at your service this afternoon.”

And so the day is spent lost in the city. Natori is only here for a few weeks, shooting a few scenes on location at the picturesque riverfront, so he’s not a very helpful guide. But he’s happy to pay transit fare and foot the bill for whatever souvenirs catch the boys’ eyes and stop for enough snacks that dinner is effectively ruined, and it seems to do the trick. Natsume and Nishimura are arguing and laughing and trying to push each other off the sidewalk within an hour, and the atmosphere lightens again by spades.

Shuuichi plays the role of cheerful chaperone and largely keeps them from wandering into traffic. Otherwise he’s a hands-off babysitter, letting them roam to their hearts’ content.

He thinks it’s obvious from the way Natsume’s eyes linger-- the softness of his mouth when he smiles at all of Nishimura’s chatter, the way he’ll forget himself and get noisy and silly as though Nishimura’s presence alone is a buffer against everything that taught him to be still and quiet-- that there’s definitely some level of infatuation here.

Whether or not Natsume is aware of it is another matter entirely.

Whether or not Nishimura is aware of it is also a mystery. He’s quick to catch Natsume’s hand or throw an arm around his shoulders or push the long fringe out of Natsume’s eyes when the February wind tosses their hair, but he also seems to be a tactile kid in general, so that might not mean anything at all.

It’s none of Shuuichi’s business, but love stories certainly are; he makes a living off them, after all. He can’t help being interested, though he knows better than to meddle. Natsume wouldn’t thank him for it-- would probably have a few very strong words for him, at that-- so Shuuichi stomps down the protective edge his thoughts start to take. It’s really not his place.

From what he’s seen of Nishimura, he’s a good kid. His taste in movies is certainly top tier. And Natsume is a very good judge of character. That’s enough for now, Shuuichi decides, and buys the boys enough matching keychains to share with all their friends back home.

A phone call from Shuuichi’s harried assistant is finally what brings them back to the studio. Apparently one of the filming locations was double-booked for a wedding this weekend, and the director is chewing over either rushing the scene or shooting it somewhere else. In his bad mood he noticed their leading actor missing, and Shuuichi’s assistant all but begs him to come back.

They pile out of the cab in front of the studio, Natsume beginning to flag after a busy day of new places and new faces and a lot of walking. His cat, bundled in his arms, has looked disgruntled since this morning, but that might just be his face.

“I’m sorry about this,” Shuuichi says ruefully as they make their way inside. “Please bear with me. I’ll sort this out as quickly as I can, and then give you free reign of the room service menu back at the hotel. Deal?”

His suite is more than big enough to accommodate two high schoolers for the weekend, as he assured Touko over the phone when they traded emergency numbers and contact information, with more than enough amenities to keep them busy. But it looks like their first night will see them too tired to do more than go straight to bed, and Shuuichi feels a little guilty about that.

“Oh, no,” Natsume says, eyes wide. “No, this is-- we’re the ones intruding, we know you’re busy. We shouldn’t have taken you away from work in the first place. Take your time.”

He gives Nishimura a nudge with his elbow that doesn’t look gentle, and Nishimura nods through a wince. “Yeah, absolutely. We’ll be good.”

But his sunny mood is disintegrating again. He’s visibly bristling, and keeps pace at Natsume’s side as though he’s standing guard. Shuuichi keeps an eye on him while the production staff argues with each other, and it’s because he’s watching so closely that he finally catches on.

The boys are in an out of the way corner of the studio, very obviously minding their own business, and someone Shuuichi doesn’t recognize-- one of the PAs, possibly-- cuts toward them. It’s too far away, and too loud besides, for Shuuichi to catch whatever is said.

But he sees it when Nishimura’s tremulous hold on his temper snaps. He surges out of his chair, eyes bright with anger, and Natsume only barely manages to curb the fight before it starts. He shoves Nyanko-sensei into his friend’s chest, and Nishimura’s arms curl around the cat on reflex, and now he has no hands free to pick a fight.

Shuuichi, however, is not given a fat cat as a deterrent, and has plenty of hands free.

He’s crossing the studio with swift, sharp strides, Hiiragi at his side. He realizes he’s furious-- disproportionately so-- and it must show. Natsume looks cowed as he approaches, and the PA fades away into the crowd.

“Sorry,” Natsume says quickly, “if we interrupted-- “

“Don’t say sorry,” Nishimura says right over him. He’s searching the crowd hungrily, as if the force of his glare might bring that woman back over. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Nishimura,” Natsume stresses, looking as though he’d like to sink into the floor, “it’s okay. She just-- I used to live with her family. She’s not-- you don’t even know what happened back then, you don’t know why she said-- “

“I don’t have to know,” Nishimura snaps. He pets Nyanko-sensei just for something to do with his hands. He looks ready to set the next person who looks at Natsume sideways on fire. “Anyone who treats you like that is picking a fight with me, so deal with it.”

And this is the boy who dragged them all over the city for hours, who coaxed and whined and teased until Natsume gave in and had a good time. He was so excited to get behind the scenes for this movie, he was ecstatic to meet Shuuichi and his co-stars, but it didn’t cost him anything to leave it all behind because one person in this busy studio was unkind to his friend.

His earnest eyes are narrow now, all trace of that idol worship placed somewhere far behind him, as he sizes Shuuichi up. Nyanko-sensei lifts up to bump his head on the underside of Nishimura’s chin, but his eyes are dark and intelligent, and they size Shuuichi up, too.

Beside him, Shuuichi is aware of Hiiragi lifting a hand to the lower half of her mask, as though she’s covering a smile.

Well, I know when I’m outdone, Shuuichi thinks.

A nearby security guard is looking particularly interested in their group, and Shuuichi waves him over with a smile. The middle-aged man saw most of the altercation, and would recognize the PA if he saw her again. Shuuichi makes a quiet request for the guard to get her information and collect her badge and escort her off the property.

With that taken care of, Shuuichi turns to the teenagers in his care. They’re both staring in surprise. He wonders what they expected of him, if not that. He certainly won’t tell Natsume he plans on blacklisting her name on as many upcoming projects as his influence will reach, but Nishimura would probably be delighted by the idea.

“That’s one way to end an evening,” he says with a great theatrical sigh. He puts a hand on each of their heads, feeling all twenty-four of his years, and his voice softens into something more serious. “I wish you would have told me something was wrong in the first place. I would have dealt with it then, and we wouldn’t have had to change our plans.”

He looks particularly hard at Natsume, and Natsume has the good grace to look ashamed. After all the deadly situations they’ve lived through together, surely the child can trust Shuuichi this much.

Nishimura presses Nyanko-sensei back into Natsume’s arms. His eyes are full of sunlight when he looks at Natsume, burning and affectionate and fierce.

“We still had a good time, didn’t we?” he says, as if that’s all that matters.

The Western-style hotel suite boasts two beds and a pull-out couch, but Natsume and Nishimura both clamber into the bed nearest the window without bothering to change. Nyanko-sensei stretches out across the foot of it while they talk in low, sleepy voices.

Shuuichi steps into the room, having wanted the phone call in which he had a PA fired to be a more private affair in the hall, and is just in time to watch Natsume press a kiss to Nishimura’s knuckles, as though to soothe a bruise that isn’t there from a fight that didn’t happen.

Ah, Shuuichi thinks. His instincts are getting rusty. That’s twice now that he’s been too slow on the uptake.

Natsume goes still when he notices Shuuichi in the doorway, like a rabbit sighted by a hawk, but Nishimura brightens. He holds Natsume’s hand harder when Natsume tries to let go.

“Natori! You promised us room service, right?”

Shuuichi feels something tight in the pit of his chest relent, and he smiles despite himself. The smile melts the anxiety out of Natsume’s tense shoulders.

“So I did,” he says, and hands over the phone.

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