#clap along if you know what happiness is to you ( moses )

[raichoose-moved]

Moses is pretty bae.

#this is an old discord joke i never posted so here it be #howling at the moon ( discord shenanigans ) #clap along if you know what happiness is to you ( moses ) #and all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear ( jonathan crane ) #i heard it through the grapevine ( dash commentary )

[lovedbyann]

stares into the abyss as moses lands in his salad

#put here to feel joy ( crack ) #and all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear ( jonathan crane ) #the first step of the cure ( ic ; jonathan ) #everybody knows that the bird is the word ( moses ) #clap along if you know what happiness is to you ( ic ; moses )

[heyiwrotesomethings]

A Compulsive Gambler?!

Yumeko Jabami x She/Her Reader

A/N: Could you imagine Yumeko dating someone and they have no idea she’s, ya know, a gambling freak? I bet she would have a hard time pulling back like, she’d still gamble with her SO but in a sneaky, more subdued way. Something like, ‘if you can guess what number I’m thinking of you can pick what we eat for dinner’, or something like that. Seems innocent enough but she just can’t help herself into turning some interactions into gambles. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 5,170

For perhaps the first time since Mary met Yumeko, the girl was a nervous wreck. The usually carefree gambling addict was pacing around the near empty classroom while she twisted the ring on her thumb around and around again with no sign of stopping. Finally, Mary had had enough. If Suzui wasn’t going to be useful and ask what the hell was going on, she would do it herself.

“What the hell is your problem? Are you going through withdrawals or something?” Mary asked with an annoyed huff.

“Oh Mary-san!” Yumeko practically moaned, the back of her hand raised to her forehead with over dramatic flair, “I don’t know what to do!”

“About what?” Mary asked, accompanied with an annoyed eye roll.

“My girlfriend is coming to visit tomorrow and she’s going to be staying with me over the weekend!” Yumeko blushed cupping her hands over her face at the mere thought of it all. It just made Mary more annoyed.

“And? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“You have a girlfriend?” Ryota blinked, the poor boy seemed to always be falling behind.

“Yes, we’ve been together since our last year of middle school. We went to the same high school too until I transferred,” Yumeko gushed while she hugged herself, twisting and swaying slightly on her feet, “I love her so much! It’s been hard to be away from her all this time!”

Ryota scratched his cheek. “Then... why do you seem so uneasy?”

“Well that’s easy!” Yumeko cheered, a dazzling smile over her lips. A moment passed by and Yumeko appeared to pale considerably and a nervous sweat dotted her face, her body trembled and yet, the smile stayed in place. Mary and Ryota side eyed each other before staring back at Yumeko, waiting.

“She doesn’t know about my severe gambling addiction!” Yumeko finally disclosed.

“What?!” Mary and Ryota spoke in unison.

“Yes, it’s hard to believe isn’t it?” Yumeko sighed. “I’ve kept it hidden from her all this time because I feared what she would think of me if she found out. That, and I wouldn’t want her to get hurt from tagging along. I love that girl dearly and I can’t risk losing her.”

“How are you going to keep your secret, Yumeko?” Ryota’s worry for his friend was plain on his face.

“That’s where I’m hoping you two will come in!” Yumeko grasped a hand of Mary’s and Ryota’s in both of hers, a pleading pout on her face. “Help me keep her occupied and away from any mention of gambling!”

“Are you an idiot?” Mary scoffed, not waiting for an answer. “This school is all about gambling! Not to mention we’re in the midst of this insane election. You’d be better off just having her wait off of school grounds rather than parading her around for all your enemies to see.”

“Please Mary-san, it’s only for one day!” Yumeko cooed. She tried to wrap the blonde up in her arms, but Mary stood and held her away at arm’s length.

“I’m not gonna go out of my way for this fool’s errand. I’ve got to go meet with Ririka now. Figure it out yourself, but if you want my advice you should just come clean.” Mary said, giving Yumeko one last shove as she made her way out of the classroom.

“Oh yes, do you think Ririka-san would help? Maybe we could get Itsuki in on it as well!”

“You’re on your own!” Mary called from the hallway, making Yumeko whine.

“I’ll help you Yumeko.” Ryota predictably volunteered.

“Thank you, Ryota!” Yumeko bounced giddily, “Hopefully everything will run smoothly tomorrow if we play our cards right!”

***

“(Y/n)!” Yumeko jumped the girl as soon as she saw her approach the gates of the prestigious academy and showered her face with dozens of little kisses that made her girlfriend laugh and try to wiggle away from the continuous onslaught.

“Yumeko! I take it you missed me too then?” (Y/n) smiled, catching Yumeko’s face in her hands so she could land a few kisses of her own.

“Of course! You know it was one of the hardest decisions of my life to transfer here. I need to make up for lost time!” Yumeko grinned in return. She was about to steal another kiss when someone cleared their throat behind her.

“Oh, right!” Yumeko recalled, pulling (Y/n) to her side until they were near flush together. “Ryota, this is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Suzui Ryota, one of my friends!”

“Nice to meet you.” Ryota said. He was no stranger to feeling out of place, but after that intimate display he had never felt more awkward.

“Nice to meet you too, Suzui-san. I hope Yumeko hasn’t caused you too much trouble.” (Y/n) joked.

Thoughts of millions of yen in debt, gambling for nails, house pets, guns in a seedy basement, among other things, flashed almost violently in Ryota’s mind but he managed to keep a somewhat pleasant expression as he answered.

“Not at all! Yumeko’s a model student,” he lied.

“Oh god, I thought you’d be in the classroom by now. So much for a quiet morning.”

“Mary-san! Good morning!” Yumeko pivoted, still holding (Y/n) close, “Come meet my (Y/n)!”

“Hi. Saotome Mary. It’s a pleasure. Excuse us a second.” (Y/n) blinked and Mary was halfway through the courtyard before she noticed Yumeko being dragged along with her.

“Are you stupid?” Mary whispered harshly with no preamble once she found a secluded spot in the trees.

“Mary-san, what are we doing?” Yumeko asked, tilting her head like an inquisitive puppy would.

“How about what are you doing?” Mary hissed back. “The whole school must know you’re dating at this point!”

“Well that’s good isn’t it?”

“It’s the exact opposite of good! Do you have any idea how many people are gonna try to use her against you now? Use your head a little!”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to help me, Mary-san.” Yumeko giggled, “but you really do care about my happiness, don’t you?”

“Shut up!” Mary blushed, pushing Yumeko away before she could hug her. “I just don’t want some innocent girl to get caught up in this crazy school. Just be more discreet from now on. She already sticks out like a sore thumb without the Hyakkaou uniform.”

“I’ll do my best Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped. “It’ll be hard though since she’s just so kissable.”

“I didn’t ask.”

When they got back to the gate, they only saw Suzui looking around desperately while sweating bullets. When he finally saw Mary and Yumeko walking towards him, he ran up to them, breathing heavily.

“Ryota? Where did (Y/n) go?” Yumeko smiled.

“Iki... Ikishima’s girls took her! Tried to.. stop them but—“ Ryota panted and wheezed, stopping the retelling of his account once Yumeko rose her hand to his lips, directing him to silence.

“See? What did I tell you?” Mary groused. “And Ikishima of all people...” Mary shut her mouth tightly upon seeing the look on Yumeko’s face. The pure disgust and hatred that rolled off of her made Mary’s skin crawl.

“Ryota, Mary,” Yumeko eerily called, “it’s time for me to get my (Y/n) back from her visit to the trash heap. You’ll accompany me won’t you?”

It went without saying that Mary and Ryota followed after their friend. Whether out of fear or support, it could have gone either way. Even Mary thought it wise not to berate the usually carefree girl with ‘I told you so’s’ in this state.

They hurried to the bowels of the school and pushed through the beautification committee members. The members didn’t retaliate, one look at Yumeko’s face was enough to make them part their ranks like Moses and the sea. Yumeko approached the big metal door and knocked three times, loud metal echoes rung out over the hum of generators and fluorescent lights.

A wild laugh sounded upon the knocks. An eager cry of, ‘she’s here!’ could clearly be heard from inside as quick steps over linoleum could be heard tapping in rapid succession towards the door before it was wrenched open with a heinous squeak from its hinges that nearly matched pitch with Midari’s own delighted squeal upon being face to face with Yumeko.

“Yu-me-ko!” Midari sang, “so glad you could join us!”

Yumeko breezed past Midari without so much as a glance and went straight for (Y/n) who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room like some crime movie.

“Oh my (Y/n), are you alright?” Yumeko cooed, freeing (Y/n) from the gag and turning her face in her hands to look her over.

“I think so,” (Y/n) shivered, “just what kind of school do you go to where people are kidnapped at gunpoint?!”

The thought of Ikishima pressing that dirty gun against (Y/n)’s head made Yumeko want to curb stomp Ikishima’s head into a fine paste, but the deranged girl would have just loved that, wouldn’t she? Instead she worked on untying the ropes from (Y/n)’s middle, comforting her girlfriend along the way.

“It’s alright my love! The beautification committee is just really serious about following the dress code. They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Yumeko,” Midari moaned from behind her, “I brought her her so you would gah—!”

Mary slapped the girl hard over the back of her head and gave her a warning look. Midari shut up more out of the delight of being hit more than anything else.

“...’Gah’?” (Y/n) flicked her eyes over everyone in the room, trying to get some kind of explanation for what the hell was going on.

“‘Gah?’” Yumeko repeated right back with a smile. “Whatever does that mean, my dear?”

“I don’t know, the girl with the eye patch said it.” (Y/n) replied, finally loose from her bindings, she rubbed her hands over her arms where the scratchy rope had dug in.

“Oh sweetheart, you must be seeing things. I see no such girl here.” Yumeko said, causing a whimper to fall from Midari’s lips. “Let’s get to my class now, shall we?”

“Anywhere is better than here.” (Y/n) sighed, choosing not to question Yumeko about the girl who had taken her. She clearly didn’t like her and after being dragged here against her will, (Y/n) couldn’t say she enjoyed the crazed girl’s company either.

“That’s my girl,” Yumeko cooed, pulling (Y/n) tightly against her side. They walked past Midari as she blubbered and crawled over the floor towards Yumeko only to have the metal door slammed in her face.

“Come on, we’re already late!” Mary griped. “Some of us have scholarships to keep!”

“I just can’t wait to be sitting in a classroom with my (Y/n) again,” Yumeko sighed dreamily, “it will be just like old times!”

“Yeah.” (Y/n) smiled though she was still coming to terms with being held at gunpoint for wearing the wrong uniform. Yumeko hadn’t even seemed to be phased by it. Like it was something that was part of the school policy. We’re all rich people schools like this? Whatever, (Y/n) wasn’t going to let this one setback, no matter how momentarily terrifying, ruin her weekend with Yumeko.

Before they could make it to their classroom, the were jumped by another second year student with literal stars in her eyes as she grabbed Yumeko’s hands.

“Yumeko, I’m so glad I caught you!” She cheered.

“Oh hello Yumemi, what are you doing outside our classroom?” Yumeko asked.

“Waiting for you! It’s been so long since the Dreaming Creaming Sisters have performed and I need you to pretty please join me for a concert!” Yumemi sparkled.

“Dream—“ (Y/n) tried to muffle her inelegant snort with her hand but the action immediately drew in Yumemi’s attention, the idol’s face darkened slightly.

“Oh? What’s so funny stranger?” Yumemi asked with faux sweetness.

“I, um, sorry. It’s just uh, a unique group name you’ve got there.” (Y/n) answered sheepishly.

“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better rhyme for dreaming!”

“Scheming, beaming, redeeming... meme-ing.” (Y/n) listed the first words that came to her head, making Yumemi’s smile tighten further with every suggestion.

“Who’s your friend, Yumeko?” The idol asked, fake interest rolling off her tongue.

“This is my girlfriend (Y/n)!” Yumeko said with pride. “Isn’t she just so cute and smart?”

‘Smart ass maybe.’ Yumemi thought to herself.

“Anyway, I’m sorry but I can’t perform with you right now. I’ve got class and I don’t want to leave (Y/n) alone.” Yumeko explained, hugging the girl for emphasis.

“I didn’t know you were part of an idol group now, Yumeko.” (Y/n) said as Yumeko guided her towards the doorway.

“It’s just a side hobby really.”

Before they could enter Yumemi pulled (Y/n) out of Yumeko’s hold, hugging her from behind, her starry eyes dancing with mischief.

“You’ve never seen Yumeko preform then, have you (Y/n)-san?” Yumemi asked, still hugging the other girl close as she weaved her trap.

“Yumeko has sang to me before, so I know she can sing very well.” (Y/n) admitted bashfully. “I’ve never seen her act as a full blown idol before though.”

“Isn’t that something you’d like to see? We could have it all set up in a matter of minutes, wouldn’t that be great?” Yumemi coaxed.

“I wouldn’t want Yumeko to do something she doesn’t want to do. Besides, her class is starting soon.” (Y/n) said.

“I didn’t hear a no.” Yumemi sing-songed while (Y/n)’s face buzzed with heat.

“If you’d like to see then I don’t really mind, (Y/n).” Yumeko grinned, pulling her away from Yumemi, “I like the idea of singing directly to you in a sea of people. They’ll all know exactly how much you mean to me.”

“Yumeko..” (Y/n) hid her face in the giggling gambling addict’s chest.

“Oh for the love of— are we going to class or not?” Mary yelled impatiently.

“I’m afraid I have a concert to prepare for Mary-san. Will you come watch with (Y/n)?” Yumeko asked.

“Fine whatever.” Mary bristled.

They all made to leave when Mary halted Ryota with a hand to his chest.

“Wh- what?” He asked, jumpily.

“You are going to stay here and take notes. They better be good ones too.” Mary threatened.

“But—“

“Notes, Suzui.” Mary commanded. The poor boy gave a resigned nod and with drooping shoulders he sulked into the classroom.

***

While Yumeko and Yumemi prepared backstage, Mary and (Y/n) found their seats and made light conversation as more bodies filed into the seats around them. Despite dating Yumeko, Mary found that (Y/n) seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

“Saotome-san, what is that boy taking bets for?” (Y/n) asked.

“It’s just some weird niche idol thing Yumemite does. Don’t worry about it.” Mary dismissed, though inside she was worried this would become a bigger gamble that she couldn’t possibly cover up.

“This rich people school is so weird.” (Y/n) commented offhandedly.

“Tell me about it.” Mary agreed.

The house lights dimmed and the stage was set aglow. Upbeat music began to play and the crowd around them cheered as Yumeko and Yumemi entered the stage.

They sang their opening song and (Y/n) watched with delight, her heart beating faster every time Yumeko would meet her eyes throw a flirtatious wink or smile her way. (Y/n) would wave the red glow stick she was given in return.

“Now it’s time for the event you’ve all been waiting for!” Yumemi yelled over the crowd, causing them to cheer again. “The rematch of the century!”

“Rematch? What is she talking about Saotome-san?” (Y/n) asked.

“Ah, there just seeing who can do best in various idol based competitions.” Mary responded, truly hoping that that would be it, but Yumemite wasn’t done talking just yet.

“Before you all got here, one lucky seat was chosen for the spotlight! Let’s see who it is, shall we?”

Yumemi swept her hand across the packed auditorium and one light after the other blinked across the sea of bodies while the audience cheered. A bright light shone on (Y/n) and she blinked at the sudden brightness, surprised when the light didn’t immediately flicker back off.

“And there we have it! Our visiting guest from another school, how lucky you are!” Yumemi said with mock surprise as if she hadn’t had the thing rigged from the get go.

“You’ve won the opportunity to go on a date with one of us, the Dreaming Creaming Sisters! How will it be determined who you go out with? Well, it all depends on which one of us wins this gamb—“

“Game!” Yumeko hurriedly interjected, a faint gleam of sweat streaked down her cheek.

“Well, yes, I suppose ‘game’ is also accurate.” Yumemi cocked her head at the strange outburst. Yumemi didn’t really care what Yumeko called the gamble, she just had to win it. What better way to get back at the girl than to steal her girlfriend away for a night.

“The rules to this game are simple Yumeko-chan! There will be three rounds: perfect pitch, name the tune, and choreography memory match. Win two out of three, and you’ll get to go out with our lucky chair holder! Lose, and you’ll be paying for mine and (Y/n)’s night out. I’ll warn you, I’m not cheap!” Yumemi said with a showy laugh.

“But, I’m already dating Yumeko,” (Y/n) frowned, “I can’t go on a date with someone else!”

“Just hope Yumeko wins then.” Mary sighed. At least Yumemi’s way of gambling wasn’t too obvious. Her gambles were big and grand, but to an outsider they weren’t immediately discernible as anything but stage entertainment.

“Let’s make this quick, Yumemi-chan!” Yumeko smiled, hoping she could keep her desire to up the stakes in check.

Yumeko won perfect pitch, matching nearly every note with perfect accuracy. Yumemi won name the tune as many of the songs were conveniently of a western selection. Last was the choreography memory game and (Y/n) was nervous.

(Y/n) knew that Yumeko had a splendid memory, but the girl also detested demanding physical excursions such as this. She was probably already tired from dancing at the start of the show. To (Y/n), it was not looking to good for her girlfriend.

But to (Y/n)’s surprise, Yumeko followed the impromptu routine like a champ. Yumeko refused to let Yumemi outdo her, all for the sake of keeping (Y/n) close.

“She’s going to be so sore after this.” (Y/n) marveled. “You know I used to have to threaten her to make her go to gym class?”

“You could actually make her go to gym class?” Mary rose a brow, impressed. She hadn’t seen Yumeko attend gym class since the first week of her transferring. While Mary was still a house pet, she took great pleasure in watching Yumeko suffer through that class period.

Minutes went by and the two girls each adorned a a sleek sheen of sweat as they continued to dance, matching each other step for step. The fans were going wild at the display, waiting to see how would win the dance battle of a lifetime.

Then it happened in a flash. Yumemi, in her desire to get back at Yumeko for their last gamble against Natari Kawaru, tried to add a very complex step in her next turn and fell to the stage which led to her loss.

“Jabami Yumeko wins!” The MC announced.

Saori appeared from behind stage to help Yumemi back to her feet. Though pissed and embarrassed, Yumemi hid her feelings well and congratulated Yumeko on her win.

They closed off the concert with one final song and then the event was over.

“Have a nice dinner on me!” Yumemi sparkled, shaking (Y/n)’s hand after the show before walking back to her dressing room with Saori in tow. The poor manager was sure to get an earful from the idol once they were away from polite company.

Yumeko practically collapsed in (Y/n)’s arms.

“(Y/n), I’m so tired! Carry me!” Yumeko whined.

“After all that hard work you did? Happily.” (Y/n) hoisted Yumeko onto her back and the sweaty girl squeaked joyfully, wrapping her arms around (Y/n)’s neck.

The trio talked about the show as they walked (or in Yumeko’s case, carried) through the halls, slowly making their way back to the classroom for the next class period. Mary paused in her next comment as loud, purposeful steps were quickly catching up to them.

“Jabami Yumeko!” A voice filled with contempt called from behind them.

“Oh, Sayaka! How good to see you!” Yumeko smiled, sliding off of (Y/n)’s back to try to greet the secretary with a hug.

Sayaka dodged the attempt on her life, zapping her taser in warning as she glared at the demon before her. (Y/n) wondered if all the students were allowed to carry such dangerous items at school.

“You are in violation of school rules!” Sayaka sternly informed. “You did not fill out the proper paperwork to bring an outsider into Hyakkaou.”

“Really Yumeko,” Mary scoffed, “those are like, the easiest papers to fill out.”

“I’m sorry Sayaka, it must have slipped my mind.” Yumeko apologized.

“Your apologies mean nothing to me. Escort the girl out now.” Sayaka clipped.

“All I want is to spend time with my girlfriend. Surely you could make an exception just this once, Sayaka, friend?” Yumeko pleaded.

“Don’t refer to me as your friend,” Sayaka’s jaw clenched, “better yet, don’t refer to me ever.” Then Sayaka’s expression switched from hostile to something akin to a hopeful curiousness. “Did you say girlfriend? Like dating... monogamously perhaps? As in, you aren’t looking to be dating someone else right now? You want to spend more time with her than anyone else?”

“Yes!” Yumeko nodded, smiling obliviously.

Sayaka turned her attention to (Y/n), walking up to the other girl and grasping (Y/n)’s hands tightly in hers.

“Never break up with her,” Sayaka said, the closeness of her face scaring (Y/n) slightly, “please.”

“I um, wasn’t planning on it.” (Y/n) stuttered in reply.

“My, what do we have going on here?” A silky voice called from behind the group. Sayaka gasped and removed her hands from (Y/n) as if they had burned her.

“President! Vice president! What are you doing here?” The secretary asked.

“I’ve been hearing rumors of Yumeko stirring up my aquarium with a new fish.” Kirari’s lips curled in an interested smile as she eyed the unfamiliar girl. “This must be the one, hm?”

“This is (L/n) (Y/n), my girlfriend. She’s visiting me over the long weekend and I wanted to show her around the school to maximize our time together. Unfortunately I didn’t fill out the proper forms, you’ll allow it won’t you president? Please?” Yumeko explained with a cute pout that made Sayaka livid.

“Of course.” Kirari easily complied, tapping a blue nail against her smiling, equally blue lips. “She’ll just have to gamble with me first.”

Oh no. She said it.

“Gamble?” (Y/n) looked at the president questioningly while Yumeko and Mary hosted a silent eye battle between themselves to figure out how to deescalate the situation.

“Yes, dating Yumeko, I can imagine you must be amazing at it to catch her eye,” Kirari produced a pack of cards from her blazer, “any preferences?”

“I’m not much of a gambler, neither is Yumeko. I’m not quite sure I understand.” (Y/n) answered.

“Not much of a gambler, Yumeko?” Kirari’s lips rose into a highly amused smile.

“What she means to say is that I’ve dabbled in some friendly school gambles while I’ve been here. It’s kind of a tradition at this school, (Y/n). All in good fun.” Yumeko laughed.

“Yes, try telling that to the house pets.” Kirari mused.

“Could you just, shut up for like, five minutes?” Mary seethed, turning to the masked girl standing silently at Kirari’s left, “I thought I told you to keep your sister occupied today so this exact thing wouldn’t happen.”

Ririka shyly removed her mask, looking contrite. “I tried but she wanted to know what Igarashi-san was doing.”

“Could someone please explain to me what is going on here?” (Y/n) asked holding her hands out expectantly as she looked over each face in the little group they had formed in the middle of the hall.

“How about this,” Kirari circled the girl, “you beat me in a gamble and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“And if I lose?” (Y/n) questioned.

“No penalty. This is highly entertaining for me as it stands. I just want to know if I can see what Yumeko sees in you.”

“Then I guess I don’t see the harm in it.”

“Excellent. Let’s take this party to the student council room shall we?”

Yumeko nervously twirled her ring as she watched (Y/n) sit across from the president. Kirari had all sorts of gambling dirt of her, as much as she loved (Y/n), she hoped the girl would lose this one.

“Blackjack?” Kirari asked as she shuffled the deck.

“I don’t know how to play that actually.” (Y/n) said.

“That’s fine. Texas Hold ‘Em?”

“No, sorry.”

“How about gin rummy?”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“Thirty-one?”

“Nope.”

“Ten card no peek baseball?”

“Is that a real thing?”

“What card game do you know?” Kirari tried instead.

“...Go Fish?” (Y/n) replied.

“A woman after my own heart.” Kirari said, causing Sayaka to pout severely.

Kirari dealt the cards, spreading the remaining deck face down between them and the game was set. The pairs flowed evenly for the first couple minutes until (Y/n) had to go fish and Kirari obtained a small lead on her. (Y/n) just as quickly turned the tides a few turns later with a good guessing streak that landed her five more pairs.

The casual luck and easy going attitude (Y/n) presented while gambling with the president made Yumeko even more attracted to her girlfriend by the second, but still she hoped Kirari would turn it back around somehow.

It appeared luck wasn’t on Yumeko’s side however, as (Y/n) won the game with three more pairs then Kirari. The president smiled, mildly impressed by the outsider’s victory.

“Well then, what questions do you have for me?” She asked, shifting in her seat to cross her legs the other way.

“So this is some crazy gambling school, right?” (Y/n) asked with no preamble, not pulling any punches.

“Crazy would be subjective, but gambling is as important in this school as breathing. I’ve made sure of that.” Kirari answered.

“And Yumeko gambles.” (Y/n) said, mostly looking for acknowledgement that clarified the validity of the statement.

“Yes, one of the best in the school.” Kirari praised.

“It’s not dangerous though, right? She hasn’t done anything too drastic?”

Yumeko bowed her head, twisting her ring with a bit more force. A blush coated her skin as her heartbeat pounded in her chest. This was like a gamble in itself and oh, how intense it felt!

“Mm, hard to say.” Kirari shrugged, “I feel as though our definitions of these terms may differ.”

(Y/n) turned to face Yumeko who looked every bit the part of a scolded puppy. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. Not for Kirari to answer anyway.

“Yumeko, just what have you been up to?” (Y/n) asked, covering Yumeko’s hands to cease their twisting.

“(Y/n), I’ve been hiding something from you.” She sniffled, “I’ve been hiding it from you for a long time!”

“What is it?” (Y/n) asked gently, patting the girl’s silky hair.

“I’m, I’m a compulsive gambler!”

“Really?” (Y/n) was stunned.

“Yes, it’s true. I’ve had so many gambles I know you wouldn’t approve of.” Yumeko blinked her tears away as she allowed the truth to be out in the open. “I’ve gambled myself into millions worth of debt just so I could gamble even more, I’ve bet my finger nails, I’ve played Russian Roulette, I’ve bet my free will against become a pop idol and never being able to date again... I’m sorry you had to find it all out like this.”

“Yumeko...” (Y/n) was speechless, she didn’t know what to make of all this. Her sweet, adorable girlfriend had an intense gambling addiction that made her put herself in harm’s way on the daily?

“Please don’t break up, please don’t break up, please don’t...” Sayaka mumbled quietly to herself, rolling something that looked suspiciously like prayer beads in her hands. All the poor secretary wanted was for the snake to have a keeper that would pull her attention away from her president, was that so much to ask for?

(Y/n) sighed through her nose and pinched Yumeko’s arm harshly.

“Ow!” Yumeko whined.

“That’s for keeping secrets.” (Y/n) huffed, pinching Yumeko’s other arm, “that’s for putting yourself in dangerous situations. And this,”

Yumeko closed her eyes, waiting for another stinging pinch. Instead, she received a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“This is an apology for making you feel like you had to hide from me. I love you.”

“I love you too!” Yumeko sniffled, knocking her head into (Y/n)’s chest as she hugged her tightly.

“This doesn’t mean you’re getting a free pass anymore though, no more life changing gambles!”

“...how about three a week.” Yumeko asked shyly.

“Once a month max. You’ll kill me, my heart won’t be able to take the stress.”

“This day has been exhausting.” Mary groaned. “I thought I wasn’t going to let myself be dragged into this idiotic mess.”

“You’re a true friend, Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped.

“Ugh,” Mary ignored her, “come on Ririka, we’re running late for our next election gamble.

Ririka hurried over to the blonde and they exited the room together. (Y/n) and Yumeko followed after giving a cheery goodbye to the amused president and her disgruntled secretary.

“Lessons are over for the day,” Yumeko grinned, hugging (Y/n)’a arm as they walked towards the front gates of the school. “I bet you’re hungry, we didn’t even have time for lunch.”

“Food sounds awesome right now. Any suggestions?”

“I know a few places that might be good. We can go over them while we get ready in my apartment.”

“Sounds great.”

“Don’t let money discourage your final decision. Remember that Yumemi has graciously agreed to pay for our date tonight!”

“Oh yes, how could I forget my almost date with a pop star. How are your legs feeling by the way?”

“They’re so sore (Y/n)! Every step hurts!” Yumeko whined.

“Alright,” (Y/n) bent forward, “up, up.”

“Yay!” Yumeko cheered hopping onto (Y/n)’s back.

Yumeko refused to get off of (Y/n)’s back until they got home... which made taking the bus a little awkward.

~~~

Bonus Scene

Ryota sat stalk still in his desk, watching the hours tick by in the darkened classroom only lit by the soft light from the street lamps outside. He looked down at his notebook, filled with notes, two identical hand written copies for Mary and Yumeko. He looked back at the door, waiting for it to slide open.

“Yumeko, Mary-san,” Ryota weakly called, “please come back soon, I’m so hungry.”

#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui oneshots #Yumeko Jabami #Yumeko x reader #Yumeko Jabami x reader

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday Burnsy!

The Country AU -- I'm Gonna Live Where The Green Grass Grows

Pairing: Drake x Alyssa, Liam x Riley, and a whole host of other TRR characters.

A/N: This was a silly little idea I had months ago for an AU built around the places and people where I grew up. I never had plans to actually write it, but I mentioned it to Burns, and well ... she wanted it lol so here we are. And she’s already read half of this and is the one who made the mood board for it and the song inspo hahaha. Thank you to @mskaneko for the edits of our OTP’s, and @charlotteg234 for pre-reading the first half of this.

Trigger warning: Gun usage, hunting, mild language ... I think that’s it

@burnsoslow

My dearest friend, when I think back at where we were one year ago, I can’t help but be reminded of the vastly different world we live in now. On February 5, 2020, there was no covid keeping us sheltered and fearful, families were complete, jobs were stable, and so many of the things we worried about then simply pale in comparison to now, Life wasn’t so bad. But here we are with all these new changes and mindsets. Through it all, one thing remained consistent: YOU. You have been my strength, my rock, the anchor that grounded me. We have cried together, laughed a lot together, worried for each other, and celebrated those small victories that were important to each other. And I get so happy when someone comments about how much they love the friendship between Riley and Alyssa because it's the most real part of Fearless. If anyone ever wanted to know what we’re like, it's all written out in that story. I’ve got your back, and you have mine. You’re my best friend and I just love the hell out of ya! I hope your birthday is amazing and that this fic is everything you wanted for this AU.

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

On Sunday mornings in southern Georgia, you did one of two things: You woke up early for church services or woke up late to watch NFL football.

Some people figured out a long time ago how to do both.

Sitting in the back pew of the First Cordonian Church of Everlasting Peace, Alyssa Walker sat quietly with the sweetest southern belle smile, nodding her head along to the beautiful words spoken during Pastor Hakim’s sermon and hiding a pair of earbuds lodged in each ear. 

She and her husband, Drake, had laid claim to the pew when they were teens trying to sneak a kiss or two during prayers. After ten years of marriage, they no longer needed to sneak kisses but stayed in that same seat, believing the biggest sinners should stay as far away from the minister as possible. Why be the barrier that may prevent the spirit from reaching the rest of the congregation? The couple felt it was the least they could do.

They were actually pretty good folks and well respected in their community. Alyssa had taught first grade for eight years at the local elementary school, where her two children, nine-year-old Audrey and six-year-old Patrick, also attended. Her best friend since third grade, Riley, was the art teacher there. 

Drake worked nearby as the lead mechanic at Rys and Sons Chevrolet out on North Ramsford Avenue. Constantine had owned the auto dealership for 35 years before passing it down to his sons, Leo and Liam, when he ran for and became the town's mayor. Leo peaced out, heading to South Florida, while Liam took on the sole responsibility of ownership himself. 

And while most people in this sleepy little town of Cordonia were Falcons fanatics, Alyssa grew up rooting for the team where her parents were born and raised before settling in Georgia as newlywed lawyers: The Chicago Bears.

With the game against the Packers blaring into her ear, she kept a keen eye on the rest of her fellow parishioners. When they clapped, she clapped. When they sang, she sang. She raised her hands in hallelujahs when they did. She had learned to read lips and could “Amen” and “Praise God” right on cue with the rest of them. All the while, she sat in contentment, listening to her weekly football games. 

“The score with 14 seconds left in the second quarter is Chicago -- 14, Green Bay -- 17. The Bears have the ball on the 5-yard line. It’s third and goal. If Trubisky can score here, they’ll go into the locker room at halftime with a lead for the first time in this game, or possibly tie it all up with a field goal after this down. This is a huge, HUGE play, Jim ...” 

Alyssa twined her fingers together and lowered her forehead onto them as she waited with bated breath for the announcer to call the play-by-play. As far as anyone else knew, she was praying fervently for the Hebrews crossing the parted Red Sea away from Pharoah's army that the pastor was chronicling.

“And here comes the snap. Trubisky backs up. He tosses to Robinson in the end zone. OHHH! So close… batted away by Alexender …”

“JESUS!” Alyssa yelled out in anger. With earbuds in, she didn’t realize how loudly that just came out of her mouth. Drake nudged her in the thigh. She glanced over at him for a second before he nodded to the 123 pairs of eyes that had all turned at once in her direction. It instantly dawned on her that everyone in the congregation heard the outburst.

Feeling the color drain from her face, Alyssa placed a hand over her chest and addressed, “I am soooo into this sermon, Hakim. Woohoo! Go, Jesus, go!” She pumped her fist in the air like she was rooting him on.

Drake dropped his face onto Patrick’s shoulder, who was sitting on his lap, to cover the incessant laughter that threatened to spill out of him. He was doing a terrible job of it, as a momentary burst of muffled snickers could be heard through the sound of the game playing in Alyssa’s ear. Her husband was nothing but a big kid himself -- she wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Mommy,” Audrey whispered next to her. “It’s about Moses. Not Jesus.”

Alyssa smiled, patting her daughter’s knee. “Same thing, baby. They both performed miracles.” She cut her eyes to the phone hidden under the cardigan draped across her thighs. “And the Bears need a miracle right now, guys,” she muttered, “Part those shithead Packer’s defensive line, Lord. It’s time to help my Bears get to the promised land.”

“Going for it on fourth down, Trubisky drops back. The Packer defense is putting a lot of pressure on the Bear’s offensive line. Every man is covered in the end zone. He has no one to throw to, Jim. They’re running out of time. Four seconds left. And, NOOO, they sack Trubisky on the 10-yard line … WAIT THE BALL IS LOOSE … THE BALL IS LOOSE ... he fumbled the ball. The Packers are scrambling to get it. There are green and white jerseys all over that ball. BUT LOOK … Green Bay’s Klark picks it up. He’s running the other way … and he just slipped … he just slipped, and the football fell right into the hands of Chicago’s Robinson --”  

Alyssa grabbed Drake’s thigh, her fingers digging deeply with hope and panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” her stressed words weren’t audible to the crowd, but they were speaking volumes in her heart.

“--Robinson’s on the 20, now 15, he’s sweeping past the defense to the 10 -- 5 -- TOUCHDOWN, CHICAGO!!!”

"FUCK YES!" Alyssa jumped up, her arms outstretched in a V shape. “Hallelujah. Holy shit. Thank ya, Jesus.” She let out a huge sigh of relief, feeling nothing short of elated, not concerned in the slightest by the heads that twisted around again.

Hakim stood slack-jawed from the raised platform for a moment, his tallish physique slouching on the pulpit, before adjusting the microphone and clearing his throat deeply. "I'm certainly glad, Sister Alyssa is ... feeling the spirit this morning."

"I am feeling it, Brother Hakim," She shook her head profusely. "I. Am. Feeling it." She shot him a dimpled grin.

Drake snorted loudly, covering his face with one hand and grabbing the side of her dress to pull her back down with the other.

They turned to each other, neither one able to control the snickering and shaking of their bodies. Drake lifted a sleeping Patrick over his shoulder while Alyssa grabbed Audrey's hand; the Walker couple decided they were too immature for church this morning.

They laughed all the way to the parking lot.

"It's never a dull moment with you, baby girl," Drake chuckled, turning over the ignition.

"You know me …” She blew on her nails before rubbing them against her chest. “... just doing the Lord's work." 

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

It was customary in Cordonia for families to gather together each week for a big supper after church. 

The Walkers traditionally took turns hosting with Liam and Riley, and Constantine and Regina. This week's meal was at the elder Ryses.

Sitting down at the dining room table, everyone licked their chops, hungry and ready to dig into all the made-from-scratch southern goodness Mrs. Regina had prepared: Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, green beans with hamhock, corn-on-the-cob, deviled eggs, biscuits, sweet tea, and coffee. It was all accompanied by two containers of broccoli salad, Alyssa picked up from the Piggly Wiggly deli after church, and Riley's lopsided carrot cake.

There was always a lot of food, a lot of love, and what would it be in a small town without a little gossip here and there.

"Regina, you've outdone yourself on this meal," Liam raved while placing his five-month-old son in a high chair and fastening the clasps. "If it tastes as good as it smells, we're all in for a big treat."

Everyone agreed as she sat down, Constantine pushing her chair in with a peck to the top of her head. "Thank you, Liam." She looked up at her husband with a sincere smile, rubbing his arm. "Only the best for our family."

She meant every word of that as she and Constantine glanced around the table at all the cheerful faces of the people they loved most — that included Drake and his family. 

Drake's father had been the sheriff for many years before his untimely death, while the younger Walker was a teen. Connie had never met a braver, more hard-working man than Jackson; the now mayor stepped in after that death to be the father figure in Drake's life. Drake was already best friends with Liam, and over time, the family just considered him one of their own. Drake and Alyssa's children referred to them as Mamaw and Papaw Rys.

As everyone settled in and passed the food around the table, the doorbell rang; 7-year-old Ellie -- Liam and Riley's oldest -- jumped up to answer it. With everyone focused on getting their helpings, Riley leaned over and whispered to Alyssa, "Any more scoop on Savannah?"

Alyssa passed the potatoes to her and answered in a hushed tone, "I drove past her house yesterday ... Chuck was there. His big rig was backed right up into the driveway. They're not even trying to hide it anymore."

"I knew it." Riley slapped a scoop of potatoes onto her plate, passing them across to Liam. "When does Bertrand get back from that Bankers Convention in Atlanta?"

"I think Max said on Tuesday. And I guarn-damn-tee, Chuck will be there until then."

"Of course he will. Have you told Drake yet?"

Alyssa shook her head, peeking over at her husband, who was in hog heaven, dousing everything on his plate with white gravy, blissfully unaware of their idle chitchat. She turned back to Riley. "Not yet. You know how protective he is. I'll need to hide the gun cabinet keys when he finds out ... if he finds out. You remember how upset he got when Bianca got caught at the Love's Truck Stop with Landon Ebrim over the summer. His mama can do what she wants, but not with a married man."

Riley agreed with a nod before taking a sip and swallowing her sweet tea. "Ya know, I've never seen sweet Emmaline that angry."

"Yeah, me neither. She sure whopped ass that day." They both giggled lightly. "Landon's dentures flew clean across that truck lot."

"I saw her the other day at the Food Lion, grinnin' like a baked possum. Got that ol' dog for everything he had."

Alyssa huffed, "Cept' his nuts."

Ellie ran back in and hopped in her chair. "Miss Olivia is here!"

Alyssa stiffened, clutching her fork a little tighter before letting out a faint groan. Not that she didn't like the Assistant Principal of Cordonia Elementary -- she was her boss, after all, and they grew up together -- she could just be a little off-putting, sometimes with her treatment of Drake. In light of Olivia's recent divorce, she had, however, started directing most of her scorn on her ex-husband, Anton.

Everyone greeted Olivia as she strolled in behind the youngster, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it on a counter with her purse. "I smelled your chicken and taters all the way from Lythikos Drive, Regina. You know how I love a good rib stickin' meal."

"Is Travis and Waylon here?" Patrick piped up eagerly from the children's table, hoping to have some boys to play with rather than the three little girls who kept ganging up on him.

Olivia pulled out a chair and started loading her plate down. "They're with their daddy this weekend, sugar. I'll tell them you asked about them."

Drake lifted his coffee mug, not making eye contact with anyone. "Speaking of ... I saw Anton yesterday at the Dollar Tree ... with someone." He smirked into his drink. While everyone else knew who and was trying to avoid the elephant in the room, he owed her for years of squabble.

"Who? Madeleine?" Olivia spat, adding heaping spoonfuls of sugar to her already overly sweetened tea. "Bless her rotten heart, he was seeing her before our break up. Moved in with her right after the divorce was final, so I hope she's enjoyed cookin' and cleanin' after my youngins' all weekend, cause she's gonna be doin it a hell of a lot more now that she got herself fired."

Madeleine was a bank teller in the drive-thru at First Cordonia and also Leo's ex-fiancee. 

"Madeleine got fired?" Alyssa asked in surprise. "She's been there for years."

The redhead swirled the sugar around in her tea with a spoon before licking it off and continuing, "Mmm-hmm. Bertrand caught her on video, stuffing her gaudy drawers into the vacuum tubes at the bank and sending them to that bastard when he drove through to make a deposit. He was making deposits alright. Right between her scrawny, cankled ass --"

"Olivia!" Liam quickly interjected, knowing once she got going, it would likely turn R-rated with several little ears listening. "I'm dying to hear how the Christmas Festival for next Saturday is coming along." He shot a look across the table at Drake for getting her worked up. Drake simply grinned.

By late afternoon, supper had been eaten, dishes cleaned, and pants unbuttoned. After a couple of hours of chatting on the back porch and watching the kids play, the two younger couples packed up leftovers Regina insisted they take home and were ready to hit the road. 

Liam and Riley lived next door and walked out with the Walkers who were making their way to the Tahoe parked on the street.

Alyssa bounced and cooed over baby Jacob before handing him back to Riley and getting into the vehicle's passenger seat. 

Liam was leaning into the driver's side window, having a casual discussion with Drake about the opening day of deer season next Saturday and asking what time he wanted to head out.

Alyssa was half-listening and half-working the stereo when an idea popped into her head. "You know what would be fun?” Both men stopped talking and glanced over at her. “We should all go?”

Drake knit his brows. “Go where?

“Hunting. We can make it a double date. You and me, Riley and Liam. The great outdoors. Some quality time together. I’ll even make snacks for everyone. It’ll be fun,” her voice was chipper. She was excited about it. 

She was also deadly serious. 

So were the dubious looks Drake and Liam gave each other over the thought of taking their wives on the most important hunting event of their year. Not that either didn't enjoy spending time with their significant others, but hunting was a whole different world. It was a one-person sport where you spent the day away from reality and responsibilities and just enjoying the great outdoors —a place to be alone and experience the thrill of a good hunt.

“Guys, I’m serious. We go fishing together, and I’ve shot targets plenty of times. I really wanna go hunting with you. Riley wants to go too, don't you?” She cast an inquisitive glance out her window at Riley, who glared back with the biggest what-the-fuck look she'd ever made. “See, she wants to go too.”

“Baby,” Drake began softly, giving her knee light squeezes. “I don’t mind taking you, but this is opening day. We’ll be in the woods for hours, in the cold. It’s not really what someone would consider a ‘date.’ And we’re going to the Festival that night … we’ll get a chance to spend time together there.”

She held his gaze as her lips began to quiver. “I understand. You .. you need time to be away from me, and it was a dumb idea anyway --”

“No,” Drake cut in. His heart plummeted from the sadness in her voice and eyes. “That’s not it at all. I love spending time with you. And if you really want to do this, then … let’s do this.”

“Really? We can go together?” Drake nodded with a smile before she squealed in his ear and pulled him into a tight hug. “I can’t wait! Thank you!”

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Liam let out a heavy breath as he looked over at Riley -- The woman he knew would not be a fun hunting partner next week -- still standing on the sidewalk, appearing like she might faint. “Yeah ... I can’t wait either.”

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

Saturday. 5:15 a.m. The cellphone alarm on Drake’s bedside table let off a series of rhythmic beeping sounds and vibrations. 

The alarm wasn’t needed. The man had been awake for hours, listening to his wife's gentle snores; the anticipation of bringing home at least a 12-pointer keeping him from falling back asleep. 

Letting out a ferocious yawn and a hearty stretch, he picked up his phone to dismiss the alarm and rolled over to wake Alyssa.

With her ass perfectly curled into the space between his stomach and thighs, his hands settled on her curvy hip, jostling her slightly. “Time to get up, my little peach. We gotta get crackin’ before all the good deer are gone.”

“I just need one more hour, okay? Thanks,” she protested with a drowsy murmur, pulling the pillow over her head.

Drake chuckled, rubbing soothing circles over her back. “No. We have to get up now. We’re wasting time, sleepyhead. Unless … you don’t want to go.”

Alyssa’s heavy eyes stung as she tried to peel them open one at a time. “No, I wanna … go ...” she trailed. Her eyes slowly shut again, and she was out.

On a day like today, Drake was usually up and ready in ten minutes. Once he could finally get his wife out of bed, dressed, and back awake again from where she fell asleep on the toilet, it was close to 45 minutes. 

Maxwell, who was also a childhood friend and the music teacher where Alyssa taught, rented the room over their garage. He agreed to come down that morning and watch the kids while the pair spent their morning in the woods. Bianca used to help out in that regard, but the kids complained she slept the whole time, and Alyssa was pretty sure her mother-in-law smoked pot around them.

Drake loaded up the truck, placing his rifle and a smaller .22 caliber for Alyssa behind the seat. Dragging herself slowly to the vehicle, the night sky still pitch black and her breath turning to thick vapors in the frigid air, she listlessly tossed a Taylor Swift tote bag on the floorboard and climbed in.

Drake looked at his phone after everything was packed up to see if Liam had sent a message about being late. It was unusual for him not to be there already. Typically, his best friend was up and at his house before Drake was even ready. He sent off a quick text to check.

Drake: Where you at, man?

Liam: Running late. Riley had to put makeup on and do her hair. 

Liam: I’m having so much fun already 😑

Liam: snark

Drake: Lyss couldn’t decide which gloves looked the best with her orange vest. I guess she wants to impress the deer before she kills them.

Liam: We’re not catching deer today. We’ll be lucky if we catch a cold. Be there in 10.

Twenty minutes later, Liam’s gray Silverado pulled onto the Walker’s gravel drive. Riley had wanted biscuits and gravy from McDonald's, and she had to run back inside to pee, so that set them back. But, with everyone now there, they were finally ready to head out.

Just down the rural road from where Drake and Alyssa lived, the current sheriff of Cordonia, Bastien, owned several acres of unoccupied land that he used for recreation. He had been a close friend of Drake’s dad and agreed to let Drake and Liam hunt and fish on his property whenever they wanted.

Turning onto the dirt road and opening the gate, the four friends arrived at their spot just as dawn was breaking. 

No one spoke much as they trekked through the mud, sticks, and brittle fall leaves that littered the path to the deer stands. Riley and Alyssa were too exhausted to say anything. Drake and Liam just weren’t used to talking at all.

"Riley, love,” Liam whispered softly. “Can you watch how you’re walking? The noise is going to scare the deer away.”

“I can’t help it if … " She reacted loudly in frustration before Liam placed a finger over his lips, and she resumed speaking more quietly. “I can’t help it if there're leaves everywhere. I’m walking on them as delicately as possible.”

“How much further? I think my toes are frozen and I need coffee.” Alyssa bemoaned while walking on the balls of her heels. Drake was basically dragging her sluggish body by the hand. Her eyes were still drooping from exhaustion with every careful step.

“Just over yonder of that fence row is our stand.” He pointed out.

Alyssa aimed her flashlight around the woods in several spots. "And where do we pee at?"

Liam lightly snorted as Drake answered matter-of-factly. "Just over yonder of that fence row below our stand."

"Oh ... " her tone was small and apprehensive, "... I guess that's ... okay." She glanced back timidly at Liam, who was following close behind.

He shielded his eyes from the beam of her flashlight in his face and frowned. "I'm not going to watch you pee, Alyssa."

Riley gasped, "Eww! I don't want Drake watching me pee either." 

"Shhhhh." Liam was quick to remind her again of the volume of her voice.

"Stop, shushing me, Liam! Those deer don't know I'm out here."

Drake grunted, then whipped around to face the three of them. "Would you keep your voices down? No one's watching anybody take a piss," he whisper-yelled. "Lyssa and I will be at least a hundred yards away from ya'll. Riley, I promise you can piss your little heart out, and I won't see it."

"We're separating?" Alyssa asked wistfully. "What if I need to ask Riley something, and she can't hear me yelling across to her?"

"You'll just have to ask her when we're done, baby girl. And ... please don't yell questions to her while we're out here. Low voices."

They continued on with their noisy hike.

"Having so much fun," Liam grumbled to himself.

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

Liam and Riley headed to their tree stand as Drake helped Alyssa climb up the ladder to theirs. 

The stand and ladder were made of plywood -- chipped and faded from years of exposure to the elements -- and were attached at the apex to an oak tree about twenty feet off the ground. At the top it had enough room to take a step onto, with a wooden seat just wide enough to accommodate them. One plank rail came out on both sides. 

Alyssa plopped down onto the seat, clutching her tote bag of goodies on her lap. She lifted the brim of the orange beanie she borrowed from Drake -- that smelled of animal carcass and gun powder -- above her eyes and peered out to the wilderness spread monumentally below. She closed her eyes and slowly inhaled the fresh, dewy air, taking in the sounds of twittering birds, branches clashing from the nearby squirrel frolicking on them, and the rippling of a bubbling brook streaming down the hill. 

A pleasant warmth overcame her as Drake's much larger body sat down next to her and protected her from the frosty wind blowing in from his side.

Alyssa wrapped her arms around his waist, snuggling into him. "I can see why you like this so much. It's so quiet and peaceful ... look how purty it is out here, Drake. It's just real purty, isn't it?"

Working diligently on getting their gear together, he stopped briefly to look out; affection glowed in his eyes. “It sure is, darlin’. Almost as purty as you ... and notice I said 'almost.'” He winked, and Alyssa blushed, feeling that same love trickling up inside her she'd had since they were teenagers. Drake could charm the pants off a chipmunk, but she was thankful he only used that gift on her.

"Sooo ... " She drawled in her thick Southern accent. "How long will it be before the deer start coming out?" 

Drake drew the barrel of her gun back after loading it with shells and explained, "Don't know. It could be minutes. It could be a few hours. Just whenever they head this way, I reckon."

Perplexed, Alyssa nodded slowly. "A few hours? I s'pose that's okay. What do you do while you're waiting?"

He shrugged, passing a gun to her. "You just ... sit here."

"You just sit here and do what?"

Drake leaned over to kiss into her orange cap and replied, "Wait."

"Wait." She acknowledged. "I can do that. I'll just sit here ... and wait."

Several minutes had passed, and Alyssa was already bored with listening to nature, Drake's gurgling stomach, and sitting quietly with nothing to do. Every so often, a shotgun blast was heard in the distance, signifying either someone out there had gotten their prize or Riley had driven Liam insane. It was the only break from the monotony that came with the boredom of sitting in a tree for who knew how many hours.

Letting out a giant exhale that caught Drake's attention, she propped her rifle against the railing and pulled the cloth tote that was sitting between her boots into her lap. Rummaging through the bag, she pulled out her phone and began thumbing out a message.

Drake furrowed his brows and asked, "What're you doin'?" 

"Just texting Riley,' she answered dismissively. He shook his head and leaned it back against the tree while she formulated her message.

Alyssa: You still alive over there? How's it going?

Riley: This is boring as shit.

Riley: And now my texting is apparently scaring away the deer. F the deer Liam. F all the damn deer!!!! What were you thinking, Lyss?

Alyssa: I was thinking we could spend quality time with our husbands. The men we love and cherish with all of our hearts. I’m having a great time with Drake so far 😍😘

Alyssa: And no one twisted your arm to come bitch.

Riley: Liam's just staring through binoculars. He hasn’t spoken in 20 minutes except to tell me to point the gun away from him or to quit moving. Let’s go get our hair did at Adelaide's.”

Alyssa: OHHH Yes! And get Chinese food ... CRAB RANGOONS!! I'll have Drake drive us back. Girls Day Out. Love you!

Drake let out a belch and blew it away when Alyssa turned to him with a dazzling smile and a sparkle in her blues. "Can you drive Riley and me back to the house?"

"What? Right now?" he shrieked. She answered him with a cheerful nod. "What happened to all that talk about wanting to spend quality time with me?"

"I still do. But ... we're just sitting here, not really doing anything. I could be getting my hair done for tonight's festival. I also have a ton of laundry to do, some papers to grade, and I’m supposed to be making the Devereaux’s famous peach cobbler for the raffle. If I leave now, I’ll have time to do all of it.” Alyssa knew she probably wouldn’t do half of that, and Audrey would likely make the cobbler, but it made the situation sound more urgent.

"It's opening day, baby. I'm not leaving this spot." He reached into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his keys. "If you and Riley wanna take my truck, I'll ride back with Liam."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I don't know my way back to the truck. And I sure as hell know Riley doesn't."

He smirked, stuffing his keys back. "Then you're stuck."

The next hour was brutal. Alyssa texted Riley to alleviate the boredom for several minutes, but there had been no responses in a long while. She wasn't aware that Liam tossed her friend's phone over the hill when she started making TikTok videos of her plight -- Liam took his deer hunting seriously: No noise meant no noise.

Drake wasn't much better; he was quieter than his usual self. It wouldn't have been so bad if she could at least talk. An occasional whispered word was not going to cut it.

Alyssa sighed heavily. She wiggled around for comfort. She unwrapped a Nutty Bar. She crunched. She opened a can of pop. She tapped her fingers. She flipped the pages of a magazine. Each one got that look from Drake that let her know it was too loud. If she ever made it out of there, she planned to jabber and stir until she couldn't do it anymore.

After another half-hour of stewing quietly in her thoughts without a sign of a deer anywhere, Alyssa decided now was the time to finally just talk. 

"Do you ever think about having another baby?" It was a topic that had been on her mind for a while. To her surprise, Drake didn't give her a look or even freak out the way she anticipated. Despite his own rule of silence, he even responded in kind.

"Yeah. Kind of a lot."

Her right brow darted up. "Really?" 

Drake took a breath and shifted the gun across his lap. "I mean, of course. It's always been my dream to settle down and have a bunch of youngin's with the woman I love." He studied her lit-up face; he'd swore she'd gotten more beautiful with age. That's why he hesitated when he added, "But ... "

Her shoulders slumped at his words, and a deflated look impressed upon her face. "But ... " The word barely made it past her lips.

Drake reached for her hand and gripped it tightly. "Lyssa, we have so much going on right now. You're working on National Boards, Audrey has piano recitals and basketball, Patrick has peewee football and Boy Scouts. We barely have time -- except for right now -- for just ... us. I'm not saying,"never"... just that right now ... isn't a good time."

"I understand that, but ... we've always made it work. And don't you miss those tiny little fingers wrapped around yours? And the way they smell fresh out of the bath? And those chubby little cheeks pressed up against yours?" she goaded.

“Of course I do. I remember the first time I held Audrey and PJ in my arms -- there’s just no better feeling in the world than ...to look down ... " Drake paused as his voice cracked, and his brown eyes glistened like glass. " ... and to see someone so small ..." When she sniffled, it made it that much harder for him to speak. "... that you created with the woman you've loved since you were 16 years old. But I like who they are now, and watching them grow, and doing things with them ... And, well ... there’s no shit clean up.”

“You obviously haven’t washed Patrick's clothes in a while,” Alyssa retorted with a chuckle that brought out one in her husband.

"I’ll have to talk to him about that." He gazed deeper into her eyes. "But I do love you ... more than all the peaches in Georgia, Lyssa Claire.”

Alyssa smiled.“That’s what you said to me when you promised to marry me when we were teens.”

Drake returned his own smile. “I did. I remember like it was yesterday too. Sitting in your parent’s basement, watching Friends reruns, eating pizza, making out. And hell, it’s still as true today as it was then. Somehow, even more."

Their cold lips parted and joined halfway for a fervent kiss, with Drake's hand meandering around the subtle groove at the junction of her waist. Just as it became more intense and desirous, a rustling of twigs off in a nearby thicket caught Drake's ear, and he broke away, his eyes scoping the perimeter. Alyssa wasn't offended, she heard it too, and her heart raced with excitement.

Lifting the binoculars hanging from his neck, he spotted two deer eating from a blackberry patch some thirty yards away. He pointed in their direction; Alyssa gave a quick thumbs up, letting him know she saw them too.

Drake carefully lifted the rifle resting in his lap as Alyssa leaned forward and squinted to get a better visual. "Is that a buck and a doe?" she whispered, not moving an inch.

"Sure as fuck is." He mounted the stock of his .30 caliber, Winchester, just beneath his collarbone;  the rush of this moment coursed ravenously through his body. He lined up the scope and placed a steady finger on the trigger -- his thumb pulling the hammer back.

“Wait.” Alyssa loudly whispered. “You can’t shoot him.”

"I'm gonna. Better cover your ears."

"No, Drake. There's a doe with him. What if that's his wife? You can't just leave her all alone without him."

"Lyss, this is the whole reason we're out here."

"So you can make a widow out of her?"

"No ... so I can make deer chili out of him."

Alyssa's mouth flew open. "No. No. RUUUUUUUUN! RUUUUUUN!"

Drake pulled his face away from the scope and fired her a look. "What the hell are you doing? They're getting away!"

She tilted her chin boldly. "I don't care. That was her husband, and they're in love, and you can't take that away from them. I would be so sad if we were just out eating berries and someone came up and shot you, ALL SO THEY COULD EAT DRAKE CHILI!". 

Drake dropped his head. He knew there was no point in arguing with her. As long as he’d known her, she was stubborn, and at that moment, she was dead set in believing those two deer were living out the greatest romance of all time. Nothing he said or did would change her mind on that. 

A thought emerged while he attempted to comprehend the logic of the situation. Those deer ran off in the direction where Liam was set up. Maybe if he could give his friend a heads up, it was still possible at least someone would leave those woods with the prized buck.

Turning his back from Alyssa so that she couldn't stop him, he pulled a small walkie-talkie from his pocket and radioed Liam. Alyssa knew what was up and jumped to her feet, thrusting her arms around him in an attempt to stop the travesty.

"You can't do this, Drake," she hollered, "That’s her soulmate. And why don't I have a walkie-talkie? I want a walkie-talkie!"

While seated next to Liam, Riley was swinging her legs, purposefully making the soles of her boots scrape against the platform. Liam tried to ignore her; maybe he had been a little too uptight about every little noise and utterance she made. But this was playing a whole different ballgame now: she was now making it her mission to piss him off.

Prepared to pound his head against the tree, Liam gritted his teeth, skimming his eyes in her direction. "Love, do you have to do that?"

"Did you have to throw my phone in the woods?" She spat back.

Liam rubbed his hand over his face. "No, and I am sorry that. I apologize for all of eternity. I promise I will get you another one as soon as we get back, okay?”

Riley huffed. "Fine, but that phone had all of my contacts on it. It had our babies' pictures and videos on it ... our vacation photos. I can't get those memories back ever, and I have to find it, and God only knows where it landed. It could be ..." She stopped rattling on when she caught sight of the distressed look Liam was giving her. Knitting her brows, Riley asked, "What?"

"Nothing ... just ... can you lower your voice a little? You're gonna scare the deer away," 

He regretted it as soon as it came out. 

“LIAAAAM!”

He saw the steam gushing out of her ears. There was no time to answer the incoming call on his walkie-talkie from Drake.

Belting out a furious screech, Riley jumped up and tried to jerk the gun from his hands. There was no question she wouldn't shoot him, but she'd sure as hell shred his favorite gun apart piece-by-piece and toss them all the way to Portavira Lake on the other side of town.

Riley tugged with all of her might. "I have HAD IT with being quiet for those damn deer, Liam. HAD IT!"

"Sweetheart, you need to calm down ..." He stood up in front of her, pulling back on the rifle even harder, surprised -- and not pleasantly so -- his considerably smaller wife had this much struggle in her.

"Don't you sweetheart me. You have shushed me for the last time, Liam Preston Rys!"

“Okay, I’m sorry! But can you at least admit us fighting over a gun is dangerous? Somebody is going to get seriously hurt, and I don’t want it to be you, Riley. Please. I won’t shush you anymore, I promise.” His face softened, eventually adorning a loving smile at his wife, who, with a sigh, was unable to resist that handsome face and relaxed her grip. 

Riley gave him a half-smile in return. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve ruined your hunting trip.”

“Yes ... you did.” Liam agreed, dodging the playful slap she nearly made to his upper arm. “But I don’t want to fight anymore.”

With the War of the Ryses finally over, they went in for a makeup kiss until Drake’s voice called out to Liam again through his walkie talkie. Liam set the gun down on the bench and leaned it against the tree before he started digging into his pocket to answer the device. Riley dropped down onto the seat, her elbow brushed against the rifle and caused it to slide away until the barrel end hit the railing and set off a powerful blast.

When the ringing in both of their ears subsided, and the smoke had cleared, Liam and Riley collected themselves from the sudden spine-gripping explosion that shook them both. While Riley explained to Liam what happened, a hysterical sounding Drake came back over the walkie-talkie, wailing, “Alyssa’s been shot! Alyssa’s been shot! Help me!”

__________________

Later that evening, in the courthouse square, the street was lit up with zig-zagged rows of red, green, and white lights. Strands of garland were wound around every lamppost in perfect spiraled loops, and red bows hung and waved with the wintry breeze.

With traffic rerouted away from the area, vendors lined sidewalks selling local goods to put the town's citizens in the festive spirit. What would this small town in Georgia have been without boiled peanuts, low country boil, fried green tomatoes, barbecue, and peach everything? 

Once Constantine had lit the 30-foot spruce, surrounded by hundreds of merry people from all walks of life that made up this small community, the festival was officially kicked-off.

In a large tent set up on the square, Liam and Riley laid out styrofoam containers and drinks they’d purchased from a barbeque vendor on one of several picnic tables inside. With their two young daughters munching away on their meal, and the stroller with their sleeping son beside them, they both sat down with heavy hearts and restless minds.

Liam bit into his barbecue sandwich, noticing Riley only prodding at her mac-and-cheese while staring off into the distance. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong; he knew what happened that morning was bothering her with guilt and worry. It wasn’t every day she accidentally shot someone.

“Are you going to be okay?”

Riley shook her head slightly with a sad look. “No. It’s just not the same without Alyssa here. You know how much she loves Christmas and the festival. She was so looking forward to it too, until --”

“You shot her.”

“Yeeeeeesssss,” she cried out. Liam reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, his thumb caressing her smooth skin. Riley continued to sniffle as she grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the barbecue sauce off Liam’s sticky fingers that were now smeared all over hers. “I didn’t mean to, I swear it. And the way … and the way Drake cried. It broke my heart. Now he has her on bed rest AND house arrest. He won’t let her take calls. I’ll never see or hear from my bestie agaaaain.” The tears continued to flow in steady streams.

Liam stiffened, feeling the eyes of everyone in that tent, gawking at his overly-dramatic wife breaking down. He started to tell her to lower her voice, but after the gun battle in the woods, he thought better of it. “Riley, darlin’, you know Drake is really overprotective of Alyssa. And as scary as what happened was, she only needed the one stitch and band-aid for her graze wound. Something tells me Drake won’t be able to keep her down long.”

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

Liam was right. As much as Drake tried to keep her in bed so he could wait on her hand and foot, protect her from the careless friends of the world who could inadvertently do his baby girl harm, and check to see if she needed a new band-aid every few minutes, he could not keep her down. She had been far too excited to hang out with the people she loved so much and celebrate at one of her favorite festivals.

Maxwell had left for the events with Audrey and Patrick an hour ago; they were part of the children’s caroling group and needed to be there early. Against Drake’s wishes, Alyssa showered, got dressed, and made sure he knew in no uncertain terms would he be able to prevent her from going. The only thing he knew to do was to go, follow her around the entire night, and make sure she wouldn’t get shot again.

They circled the block where everything was held several times, but spaces to park were impossible to find. Three blocks away was the church where they attended, and the parking lot was completely empty. Drake didn’t like the fact that Alyssa would have to walk so far in her debilitated condition and was prepared to haul her piggyback style if he had to, but this was the best spot he could find.

Drake moved the gearshift into park and reached over to grab Alyssa’s arm, who was already bounding out the door. He pulled Alyssa back inside, the chilly air blowing through her open door swept her straighten hair this way and that way. 

She cocked her head to the side and exhaled, “Drake, I can open my own door. I’m not broken. It’s just a scratch. I’m fine.”

“I know.” He smiled that tenderhearted smile only Alyssa had ever seen. The same one sending a shudder through her already chilled body. “I changed my mind,” he replied simply

Alyssa slammed her eyes shut and groaned. “I just told you I was fine --”

“No, no,” He shook his head. “About having another baby. I want to start trying.”

Saddled with curiosity, she slid back into the truck and shut the door. “But, I thought you said we didn’t have time for that --”

“Yeah, I did say that. I still believe it. But … today made me realize that yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today …”

Alyssa’s hand flew to her mouth as she laughed out loud. Drake gave her a confused look before chuckling awkwardly to himself, “What’s so funny?”

She lowered her hand, still laughing. “You got that saying from a quote on a poster in my classroom. You’re the one who hung it up for me.”

The memory dawned on him, and he lowered his head, attempting to cover the guilty grin that spread over it. “Well, hell. Here I was trying to make you think I was all insightful and smart and stuff.”

Alyssa’s hand splayed across his rugged chest as she leaned over to kiss him.“You are very insightful and smart. You know I never settle for anything less than the best.”

“I s’pose.” he said, forking his fingers through his hair. “But … I guess what I wanted to say was … I know that bullet missed you, barely … but what if it hadn’t? What if I’d left those woods without you today? Just like you were afraid that doe might. Time wouldn’t matter anymore. There will NEVER be enough time with you. You’re my life, Alyssa Claire. You’re my lover, my friend, my heart, my confidante, my soul, my everything … my little peach. I want to experience all that life has given me with you as my wife … and forever make time with you.”

“DRAAAKEY!” she bawled, spreading her tiny arms wide around his bulky body. Alyssa drew him into her so hard it nearly crushed the wind right out of his lungs. “I -- love -- you -- so muuuch!” Drake patted her back and kissed into her hair as she sniveled into his shirt. He hated when she cried, but damn if this didn’t feel good to him. Anytime she was happy made him that way too. 

They took a moment to kiss and pet each other a little before Alyssa sat up and asked, “So … when do you want to start trying for a new baby Walker?”

He shrugged. “Whenever you want, baby.”

Alyssa looked through the back window of the truck and scanned the parking lot. She bit her lip and looked back at him impishly. “What about … now?”

Drake’s eyes flew open wide. “In the church parking lot?”

Pursing her lips, she affirmed, “Yes. We’ve done it behind the Piggly Wiggly plenty of times. And let's not forget the ‘Great Ass Blow-out of 2019’ in the Atlanta Convention Center parking garage.”

“I will never forget that.” Drake shook his head as that momentous sexual experience replayed in his mind. “Mmmm, you performed magic that day, woman.”

She raised a brow and coaxed him on, “So? What’dya say?”

Drake took a tentative look around at the dark, empty lot, then back at her. “We’re so going to hell, but I’m in.”

“Eeeeeee,” she squealed, jerking his arm around in excitement. “Try to keep your ass out of the window this time, okay?”

Thirty minutes later, Pastor Hakim pulled into the church parking lot with Mara, the game warden, following behind in her truck. There had been several reports from passerby’s of loud animals howling and screeching behind the church. The stray cat population was out of control in that area, and several cats had burrowed their way inside the church on occasion. 

Hakim parked his car, with Mara pulling in beside him. They both got out simultaneously and listened quietly to see if they could decipher where the commotion was coming from. 

Within seconds, a load moan roared out, followed by several consecutive whimpers that were hard to make out by the duo.

Mara listened intently, then gestured with her flashlight to an area near the back of the lot where clusters of shrubs and dry brush bordered. Hakim ambled behind her, the noise getting closer and closer until the pastor's brow furrowed at the shaking of a nearby truck.

“Damn, teenagers,” he grumbled as they tipped toed discreetly.

Mara crouched down by the truck's tailgate, Hakim bending over while she duck-walked toward the driver's side door.

The game warden turned to the pastor and instructed, “On my three. 1 -- 2 -- 3.” They both jumped up at the same time, flashing the light inside the cab. “HAHA Caught ya! OH MY GOD!”

Alyssa, who was on top of Drake, completely naked except for the band-aid on her left arm, looked up in utter humiliation and shock. She crossed her arms over her chest to cover her breast, feeling like she might faint. Not knowing what to say at that moment to rectify their actions or why those two were still staring inside the truck, Alyssa smiled sheepishly. “I’m still feeling the spirit, Hakim.”

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

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#drake x alyssa #Liam x Riley #gun usage #hunting

[readbetweenthelineslove]

Thoughts While Watching SK Homecoming

I was literally smiling and laughing like an idiot while watching these wonderful amazing people and thinking of all of the memories from years of enjoying their musicals. I am so glad I bought the digital download because they deserve all of the love and support. Just a word of warning I will be spoiling what happens throughout the show so if you haven’t seen it yet and/or you don’t want to have anything spoiled for you, I would not proceed any further. You have been warned. Also, as the show is over two hours long, buckle in cause this is gonna be a doozy and I have a lot of feeling about this wonderful show.

Disclaimer: these are just my own personal thoughts and opinions as a long time fan of Starkid, please don’t come at me.

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1. Darren is so cute with how he encourages and interacts with the crowd, you can tell how much he loves Starkid and loves the fans

2. we stan a founding knucklehead of Starkid

3. I am so proud of the musical daddies as they conduct a literal orchestra!! how far they have come!!! also, hearing all of the songs with the orchestra is such a treat.

4. I am living for Jeff Blims outfit! the eyeliner, the necklace, the vest!! honestly, iconic.

5. It is so funny to me that they had to edit out fuck from their songs, i.e. “i mean what the what”; “tiger lover”; “he porked a tiger”.

6. Did they change the octave that they were singing, because Jeff seems to be struggling?

7. I love how Jon Matteson looks the same as he did TGWDLM, he is Paul.

8. I don’t know why but the TGWDLM medley is increasing my appreciation for Jeff, previously who wasn’t really on my radar in terms of my favorite starkids, but I love his little dance moves and funny things he does

9. Robert Manion fucking performs the hell out of show stopping number and I am here for it every single time. I feel like he can’t help it and you can tell he’s into it because he can’t help but make the Hidgins face and wiggle his hips. Also, THE BODY ROLLS I AM LIVING FOR THEM !!! (@9:10)

10. Both Mariah and Jon are confirmed working boys and I love them for it. I love that Corey brought Mariah in at the end to make sure she was included.

11. Okay but Lauren Lopez knows how to perform like she knows how to work and engage a live audience. I so enjoy watching performances like this where there isn’t a wall between performer and audience because I think that that’s when she shines. I also feel like the same applies to Rob, Joey, and Darren, they are just so fun to watch.

12. How are all of these people so attractive!! I especially love Lauren’s outfit, but that’s probably just cause I love her so much.

13. I don’t know why but Brian’s “I still don't know!!” at 12:08 gets me every time.

14. Joey’s look behind him for his shadow at 12:24 while he bops kills me.

15. The orchestral swell at 13:05 with “this is the dawn” is so beautiful.

16. Lauren's arms are unbelievable, but we already knew that

17. 14:43 where Joey and Lauren walk and then turn back is so funny to me.

18. The second naked in a lake kicked in at 17:05, I got so hype. also, love that Corey took off his jacket during the song.

19. All the different faces and actions during the “fasters” at 19:54 are so good.

20. I never realized how tall and gangly Clark was until the Ani section, the boy's limbs are too long for his own good and I love it. His voice is so beautiful though!!

21. Joe calling Twisted the first-ever live-action Disney remake is iconic and no one can tell me otherwise.

22. I was legitimately afraid for the buttons on Joe’s shirt at 27:43.

23. Britney Coleman and Carlos Valdez singing 1001 Nights was a wonderful surprise and literally so beautiful, also their exit as Dylan started singing was so cute.

24. I’m kind of sad that they didn’t actually sing Twisted in the medley cause that was one of my favorite songs, but I understand that they had time constraints.

25. After 32:38, I feel like I need to watch the Lego Batman movie to see how similar it is to HMB.

26. Semi-disappointed that they didn’t do the usual choreography for the “I want to be your friend forever” part, but I respect that the handheld mics restricted them.

27. The bass or guitar or whatever in the background at 36:30 was so groovy, I was a fan of that.

28. Tbh, I didn’t really get Denise’s whole bit about how Starship is a show only for dreamers, it just felt a little off to me.

29. I’m a little bummed that Joey didn’t sing Status Quo, but I like that they gave it to Mariah and Alex who both have lovely voices. I appreciate that they had a moment to shine when they might not have because they are newer members/ only had a small role.

30. Brian and Jaime’s eye contact with the camera at 40:48 is so powerful and I’m here for it.

31. Joey mouthing the lyrics at 41:21 is so funny and I love it.

32. AJ’s little jump in the background at 43:02 is so cute.

33. Their constant need to have to avoid saying dick throughout the whole MAMD section is so good and hilarious, with so many expertly timed entrances from AJ Holmes and Joe Walker.

34. Joey saying no to the different microphones at 44:00 is absolutely artistic and fucking hysterical. It gave me similar vibes to Bo Burnham’s bit about seeing the most beautiful penis at a urinal.

35. 45:40, AJ Holmes is a delight of a man, need I say more.

36. “Do I smell?” “Pretty bad.” 45:07

37. Seeing Meredith and Brian standing next to each other at 48:49 makes my heart so happy cause this is what brought them together and now they are married and it’s amazing.

38. “We’ve written on all of the Starkid shows” 50:46, what a powerful statement.

39. I had no clue that the Starkid movie (1997) was a thing and I love that Nick just straight-up roasted it.

40. The subtitles at 52:56, dramatical instrumental music. I am here for it, I love this revamped version

41. Darren is so extra singing Goin back to Hogwarts and I am here for it. Our boy has grown so much! 

42. Pulling out the glasses at 54:03 is a power move.

43. I’m not sure about how I feel about people singing along to the songs during this. I know it is supposed to be for the fans but don’t people want to just sit back and listen to how amazing these people are and just enjoy. Maybe that’s just cause I only am viewing it through a computer and if I had been there I might have felt different, but who knows.

44. 56:05, AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!! It’s Bonnie!!! She looks amazing and I’m so happy that she’s here!!!

45. Joey trying to the clap in the ear with mic at 58:04.

46. 58:16, I love how Darren always hypes up the crowd for Lauren’s entrances as Draco, he’s done this a number of times and it makes my heart so happy how he supports his friends.

47. I love Lauren so much the way she moves across the stage at 58:57, the power stance at 59:05...absolutely incredible.

48. I love seeing Rob in the chorus cause he was a fan, he loves AVPM just as much as we do and now we get to see him up there performing one of the most iconic songs. It honestly just makes my heart so happy.

49. 1:00:12, Dylan emerging from the audience is honestly so funny to me and I love him for it. Also, I love the ongoing trope of the “welcome” getting progressively longer each time they perform the song. Bless Dylan’s lungs and abilities to sustain that note.

50. 1:03:45 Jim little butt taps are so good.

51. The saxophone at 1:04:19 is so enjoyable.

52. I like how the slowed things down for Home at 1:06:10 with Darren sitting on the stage just having a personal moment with the audience, it was really nice.

53. Darren’s hops at 1:08:45 are so adorable and I love them.

54. I know that AVPM songs are iconic and everyone loves them, but I would have liked to see them so some more songs from AVPS and AVPSY, especially since they had some time rehearse them and there would be no mic issues.

55. Yay for a Bonnie and Meredith duet, both women are wonderful and have done an amazing job as Hermione and I love them both.

56. “Art imitates life a little bit on that one”, it’s okay we love you Darren with your silly guitar.

57. I didn’t think watching this would be educational, but I now know what a litmus test is and what slant rhymes (aka really pushing it rhymes) are thanks to Darren and google, so there’s that.

58. This may be a bit controversial but I feel as though this was one of the weaker performances of Granger Danger, usually Joey and Lauren have fun with it and I love it when they do, but this time they seemed to be more going through the motions. There were good moments (i.e. Joey’s hips, Lauren sliding down the mic stand, the back and forth head turns) but overall it was just kind of eh.

59. Darren’s twirl at 1:28:36 is delightful.

60. I firmly believe that AJ has permanently memorized the fantasy monologue and I refuse to let anyone tell me otherwise, 1:31:10. Also, I’m curious if it was planned because someone in the audience calls out for it, but that might have been a plant so who knows.

61. I just realized at 1:32:20, where he’s talking about mouse wives and concubines that would be bestiality. He only shrunk his size down, he would still technically be a human...

62. Tyler Brunsman singing Guys like Potter is now kind of funny considering AVPSY and Cedric ending up with Lily in the afterlife.

63. Joe Moses face at 1:38:57 is classic Snape and I am here for it.

64. Another yay for Sidekick, this is one of my fav AVPSY songs and Joey kills it every time.

65. 1:43:19, goddamn that man can hit a high note.

66. I love the addition of Rob to Everything Ends, what a pretty song and Rob’s voice works wonderfully with it.

67. 1:44:58, Rob struggling with the mic is hilarious.

68. Classic Snape speech at 1:46:30, simply inspiring.

69. I love Jaime and we all know her voice is incredible, but something seemed off during Not Alone and at times it sounded like she was struggling.

70. 1:51:56, I don’t know if I just don’t know much about music but Joey’s make was a little off, but on another note, I think it would have been really sweet if they had let Lauren sing too so that Draco could finally add to that harmony.

71. That sick piano rift at 1:54:33, hell yeah!

72. Even though they always use Days of Summer as the closing song, I love it every time, it’s just so fun and gets me so emotional.

73. That key change at 1:56:50 tho.

74. Yay for enthusiastic but sometimes questionable fanart ;)

75. Brian and Joe recreating the ending scene of AVPM is absolutely beautiful and I am here for it.

76. The matching jackets at the end speaks to the fact that Starkid at its essence is just a bunch of friends who were theatre nerds and wanted to create something fun together and I think that's wonderful.

In conclusion: Props to whoever made it to the end of this ridiculously long post summarizing the different thoughts I had while watching Homecoming. I truly think it was something for the fans and I love them for it. I am so proud of Starkid and all they have accomplished since 2009.

I want to encourage others to continue to support Starkid in the future, maybe even by purchasing Homecoming for themselves, I would definitely recommend giving it a watch. Also, feel free to respond and let me know your own thoughts on Homecoming, I’m sure there’s lots I missed and I would love to hear what others thoughts. 

#sk homecoming #spoilers #darren criss #lauren lopez #joey richter #clark baxtresser #jamie lyn beatty #jeff blim #meredith stepien #joe walker #a j holmes #brian holden #tyler brunsman #starkid avpm #avpm10 #starkid #dikrats #brian rosenthal #dylan saunders #jon matteson #robert manion #tgwdlm #opinion #sk 10niversary #mariah rose faith #corey dorris #nick lang #bonnie gruesen #jim povolo #joe moses

[piratekane]

title: shiny happy people (people, happy people) pairing: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield, Debbie Dingle, Tracy Shankley summary:

notes: for @thegirl20. a mighty thanks for the spark that lit the flame here.

Tracy puts her glass of white on the table next to Debbie’s pint, her knees hitting Debbie’s elbow as she squishes onto the bench next to her. Debbie wonders why she’s sitting so close when there’s an empty bench just across the table, but Tracy doesn’t even acknowledge it.

“Hiya!” she says happily.

Debbie lifts her pint just off the table. “Hey.”

Tracy keeps grinning, looking around the beer garden, eyes bright. “Isn’t this amazing?”

Debbie follows Tracy’s sweep of the garden. “Isn’t what amazing?”

Tracy looks back at her, eyes wide. “This,” She repeats. She throws her hand up, waving it over everyone.

The garden is full tonight as if all of the village is in one place. Her eyes scan over Pete and Rhona, Amy and Victoria and Ellis, Moira and her dad and Nate, Pete and Rhona. Her mum and Vanessa are on a bench with Frank and Megan, Vanessa holding Moses on her lap while Johnny clings to Charity.

Tracy clears her throat, catching her attention. “You're looking a bit down today, Debs. What's up?"

Debbie looks away from everyone slowly, eyes lingering on where her mum’s hand falls over Vanessa’s. "Hmmm? Oh, nothing."

Tracy takes a sip of her wine before she settles it down and turns, her knees digging into Debbie’s leg. ”C’mon, tell Auntie Tracy what's wrong."

She scoffs. "You know you're not actually my auntie, yeah?"

Tracy seems to think about this for a moment. “I’m your stepmum's sister,” she says slowly as if she’s trying to find the threads to connect them. “So… at the very least I'm your step-auntie! Which is just as good." She winks at Debbie. “Go on, then.”

She’s not sure, honestly. The whole village is moving around her, laughing and smiling. And she’s sat here, wondering where her happiness is; why she can never hold onto it for very long. Everyone else has it: Pete and Rhona, her dad and Moira, Chas and Paddy, Vanessa and her mum. Where is hers?

Tracy sighs. “Fine, then. If you won’t tell me, why don’t we plan out the hen-dos?”

“Sorry, what?” Debbie asks. She pulls back a little. “Plan what?”

“The hen-dos,” Tracy repeats. “For Vanessa and Charity. We know them best, don’t we?”

Debbie nods her head in the direction of Vanessa and her mum. Vanessa is whispering into her mum’s ear and then pulling away with a laugh. “I think they know each other better.”

Tracy rolls her eyes. “Fine. We know them second best. Better?”

“Much,” Debbie says, smiling with too much teeth.

“I’ll be doing V’s, obviously,” Tracy says. “I have no idea what to do, but I know it needs to be classy. Maybe a yacht party!” She frowns. “No, that’s too much. Whatever, I’ll give it a think.” She grins, rubbing her hands together. “So, what about Charity?”

“What about her?” Debbie asks, sipping at her pint.

Tracy heaves a sigh. “What does she want for her hen-do? No, don’t tell me. I can get the Uptown Hunks!”

“Okay, no.”

Tracy pouts dramatically. “Oh, come on. Charity’ll love it. She’d get a real kick out of it.”

She opens her mouth to argue but Tracy digs a hard elbow into her side and she yelps instead.

Charity pops up in front of them, and claps her hands together as she slides up next to Debbie. She rests her hip against Debbie’s shoulder, and Debbie finds herself leaning into the touch. “Well, well,” her mum says. “If it isn’t our very own Tigger and Eeyore.”  

Debbie looks at Tracy, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” they ask in unison.

Charity grins widely. She taps Debbie on the nose, ignoring the scowl it earns her. “Eeyore,” she says. “All gray and dreary, yeah?” She pats Tracy on the top of the head. “Tigger. Can’t get you to stop bouncing about.”

They each open their mouth to protest, but Charity waves them off. “Blame the boys. They’ve got me reading about the Hundred Acre Woods every flamin’ night.”

Vanessa slips up to her other side, arm stretching across Debbie’s back and her hand resting on Debbie’s shoulder right where Charity’s hip is. She’s warm though the thin cotton of Debbie’s t-shirt and the reflexive protest on the tip of her tongue, the one she throws at her mum too regularly, ebbs away into nothing. Debbie watches Vanessa push out her lower lip in a pout. “Who am I, then?”

Charity wraps an arm around Vanessa’s shoulders, pulling her behind Debbie and into her side before she presses a fleeting kiss to the top of her head. “Christopher Robin, babe. Spend all your time talking to them animals like he did, don’t you?”

“You’re Pooh, then?” Debbie asks flatly.

Charity winks. “I do look good without any bot-“

Debbie is grateful for the hand Vanessa slaps down over her mum’s mouth. The relief sours when Vanessa replaces her hand with her mouth.

Debbie sighs and sways into Tracy’s side. “You know they’re going to be unbearable, don’t you?” She lifts her chin in their direction, frowning as she watches Vanessa’s hand slowly drift down her mum’s back.

Tracy props her elbows up on the table and drops her chin into her hands, smiling dreamily as Charity and Vanessa break apart. “You think so?”

Debbie watches Charity tuck a finger under Vanessa’s chin, tilting her face up and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She lingers there for a moment, her mouth moving in words that only Vanessa can hear. Vanessa’s eyes flutter and her hands flex where they’re resting at Charity’s hips.

“They’re not even married yet and they’re all over each other,” she says, forcing the slight hint of disgust in her words. Her mum’s eyes are too soft; Debbie has to look away for a moment.

Tracy’s shoulder bumps hers. “Sometimes that goes away,” she says. Debbie glances at her quickly. There’s something below Tracy’s bubbly surface, something tinted with heartbreak. Debbie isn’t blind or deaf. She’s heard Vanessa going on and on about David and what he did - and didn’t do.

She knows the same heartbreak herself. She knows her mum and Vanessa know it too.

But she looks at Vanessa and her mum, still wrapped up in each other as Johnny and Moses run riot through the tables; at Vanessa sloping heavily into her mum’s side; at the way her mum laughs pulls Vanessa impossibly closer; at the way Vanessa leans away just to look at Charity for a moment before she leans back in.

And she knows they’re different.

“Not for them,” she says - hopes - quietly.  

Tracy looks at Debbie out of the corner of her eye. “No,” she agrees with a smile. “Not them.”

Debbie nods sharply and sits up a little. “Good. Mum deserves it.”

Tracy smiles a bit wider. “Ness an’ all.” She stares at Debbie for a moment longer and then she snorts, the noise quickly turning into laughter. “See? Talking to your Auntie Tracy wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Debbie groans and drops her head into her hands. “Kill me now,” she mutters, just loud enough to send Tracy into another round of laughs.

Her mum shouts her name and waves an arm at her, catching her attention. “Come ‘ere, you rain cloud. Vanessa wants to make tea for you at ours tonight.”

Vanessa smiles. “Can you? Only, your mum would love it if you could.”

Debbie waits her mum to push it off, to pretend it was all Vanessa’s idea and she’s just going along with it. But Charity nods, flashing her a hopeful smile.

“Whatever,” Debbie bites out, putting on a show of rolling her eyes. “Nothing to eat at home anyway.”

Tracy grins and shoulders her, nearly knocking her off the end of the bench. “Oh, give over. You just want to have a meal with your new stepmum and step-auntie.” She dodges Debbie’s halfhearted attempt at a swat. “Oh! And your step-grandad! Maybe if you ask Dad, he’ll get you a pony!”

Debbie watches Tracy go on and on and thinks, maybe. Maybe all of this - her mum and Vanessa and this family they’re building together, out of the broken pieces they’ve already got - maybe this is amazing.

#vanity #adjacent #charity x vanessa #charity dingle #vanessa woodfield #debbie and her two mums #tracy shankley is a ray of sunshine fight me #the rain cloud and the rainbow

[fallingforboyswithmicrophones]

StarKid Homecoming Review 7-25-19 Show.

WARNING THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR STARKID HOMECOMING. IF YOU WANT THE SHOW TO BE A SURPRISE PLEASE GO BACK NOW, BECAUSE ONCE YOU START READING THERE IS NO GOING BACK. 

This review is what I can remember because my mind is jumbled.

Before the show even started I was able to meet the amazing Corey Lubowich who I just said thank you to for everything he does and got a picture with him. (Thank you Corey!) I also got to say hi to Tessa Netting who I’ve followed for years and took a photo with her. She’s the sweetest!

Okay so Act 1: Darren came out and did a intro. Then they started with the most recent musical

TGWDLM: it was amazing! Also in TGWDLM Mariah sang Jamie’s part but we soon would see why because Jamie slayed “it is time to die!!” The screams for that OMG, then Robert did Show Stopping Number and the audience lost their cool. He was so amazing!!

On to Firebringer: I liked seeing the vine (“I don’t really wanna do the work today”) performed live (lol) and it was neat but I honestly know nothing about the show except the work today song and “the duck is Lord” so I was confused a bit. I need to watch Firebringer. They also performed the finale song.

TTO- they sang Gone to Oregon which was great and then they did Naked In A Lake which made me so happy because it is my favorite song from TTO, then they did Speed Run and OMG how they managed to sing and dance just WOW.

Ani- We got to hear Mark, Clark and Nick Gage sing which was awesome!! Meredith was in this one too. I loved Ani and it’s one of my favorites so I was glad it got some love. They performed Ani, With My Own Eyes and Back on Top.

Twisted - they did No One Remembers Achmed including the infamous Tiger F***er and when Robert said that cheers were so loud, then one of my favorite Starkid girls Britney Coleman came out and sang a thousand and one nights with freaking Carlos Valdes!! I screamed so loud because I love the Flash and I was so excited to see him! Then Dylan, Rachel and Jeff sang Happy Ending.

Holy Musical B@tman- Nick Gage sang the title song (Holy Musical Batman) solo which was so nice I liked seeing him get some of the spotlight. They did Rogues Are We which I love and Super Friends with Nick Gage as Robin instead of Nick Lang because I assume Nick L. didn’t want to perform because he is in charge of everything. (LOL)

Starship- Mariah and Alex Paul dueted Status Quo and it was beautiful, then Dylan came out and did Kick It Up a Notch which I cheered so loud about (Sorry other fans for that) and then they did I Wanna Be and Brant came out and I lost my cool again and cheered loudly.

MAMD - MAMD Joey acted very dramatic before beginning the song which was hilarious, Joe W. came out running dropped the mic and sprained his ankle in the process, then AJ sang listen to your heart and my heart soared (I love AJ.) and then Ali Gordon and Alle-Faye came out and sang part of Ready to Go then everyone came out and joined in for the song that is how they ended Act 1.

There was a fifteen or so minute intermission before Act 2. Before Act 2 began Nick Lang came out to introduce the second half of the show. You all I cheered so loud for him, it is not a secret on here that I love Nick Lang. So I was happy to see him (I also saw him talking to Matt before the show and waved at him when he looked my way, but I am not sure he saw me. It was pretty dark.) 

Alright you all I don’t remember the exact order they were in but we have reached The Potter Musical part of Homecoming. Are you ready? We are about to Go Back To Hogwarts.

As I said Nick Introduced Act 2 which was everything Harry Potter related and Nick told us thank you for the support and that he loved us. (WE LOVE YOU NICK!!) 

GBTH - Darren came out and the cheers were so loud. He began singing the song and everyone was singing along which was magical. Then Joey came out and my ears hurt from how loud everyone cheered they sang their voice and did the floo powder power arm waves then the amazing Bonnie entered and OMG the cheers for her were so loud and went on so long they had a hard time starting again. It made me cry to see how much love Bonnie got. Then Lauren came out and sang Draco’s part I was kinda gutted they didn’t sing the Cho Chang part since Tyler was there to do his part but oh well. After Lauren sang everyone came out on stage and Dylan entered from the back of the theater and WOW he held that note for welcome so long. Amazing!!! Darren said something about never being able to find the swimming pool and Tyler did his infamous “Hufflepuff’s are particularly good finders” which got major cheers and I barely heard Dylan’s reply. The energy just got GBTH was so amazing. Truly magical I got goosebumps!!

After GBTH they sang Harry Freaking Potter which is always amazing & sadly I don’t remember much from this part.

After Harry Freaking Potter I do not remember what order the sang the songs in and I do apologize for that. I do remember what they sang however. I do know the two finale numbers and the end but that’s coming in a few more paragraphs.

Darren came out after one of the songs with his guitar and had us sing with him because he could not remember the words to “Cho Chang” the line “Wanna take you up to Winnipeg that’s in Canada” was so loud and Darren was like “Alright you guys know this song.” After that he sang The Dragon Song which he really hates some of the lines he wrote. All of us in the Audience sang the “la, la, la’s.” Did I mention Darren hates some of this song? 

After the Dragon Song Darren took his guitar and went back to stand near the band and Lauren and Joey came out and so begins Granger Danger. Joey and Lauren shook hands before the song began and Lauren during the second “What? What the hell is this?” part when she and Joey are overlapping looked down at her crotch like in the show, I was laughing at that. She kills it with her acting and her voice. 

Bonnie came out and sang part of The Coolest Girl before being joined by Meredith and they dueted the rest of the song and it was beautiful. Also two bada** Hermione’s on stage together. LOVE IT. 

Darren sang To Have a Home which made me tear up. I relate to that song so much and was just thinking of how much StarKid truly means to me during this song. We all were home together in a theater in L.A. watching people we love do what they love. I get chills from thinking about this part. This was truly the part of the show were I thought to myself HOLY CRAP I AM ACTUALLY HERE. (Apologies to the guy sitting next to me for my crying.)

Brian R. and Joe W. came out and sang Different as Can Be complete with the back to back part. That was awesome and I love Joe and Brian’s voices so I was so excited to see them sing together.

Joe W. came out and sang To Dance Again and everyone clapped and sang along, I loved Joe’s energy during this song because even with a injury he was dancing around the stage and doing the Voldemort jumps etc. He gets major props for that. Also Brian R. and Darren came out during the “On your feet” part and Darren did all the dances Brian sang and at the final chorus he Brian R. and Joe W. did a kickline together. I DIED. 

Tyler came out and I lost my voice cheering for him. (and Nick and Jon) I’ve been dying to see Tyler perform since the very beginning and he is one of my favorites and way back when my friend and I briefly ran the Tyler Brunsman Street Team. Tyler of course sang Guys Like Potter with Joe Moses joining in of course. You all I know I am repeating myself but this was magical, I love this song and Tyler and Joe M. so I was in awe. 

AJ Holmes turned after one of the songs to the audience to say “enough about this Potter boy their should be w new wizard” or something along that line I can not remember word for word and someone shouted “what is your fantasy” and he did the entire Gildroy becoming a mouse Prince monologue. I loved it so much and was dying of laughter. Especially when he shouted at us “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” AJ then sang Wizard of the Year complete with the female backup. I loved hearing AJ sing. 

Joey came out and sang Sidekick. When he sang “Am I the hottest?” he got the biggest scream and it was so funny to hear him sing “No I’m not” after that. 

Jamie came out and began singing Not Alone with Darren, Joey and Bonnie joining her during the song. This is another song that hits me right in the feels. I truly believe this is a StarKid anthem because I know I’ve felt alone a lot in life and this song has gotten me through so many bad times. StarKid has gotten me through bad times. One of my favorite parts of the show.

Brian R and Robert came out and dueted Everything Ends and were joined by the whole cast. The mood for this song was very somber and this song is just so moving.

The whole cast came out and did Voldemort is Going Down and even had us stomp our feet in time with them during the song so Joe Walker could hear it in the back and be scared. 

Sadly this is the last song and it was of course Days of Summer. Just watching everyone dance together and sing along was a joy. Then Darren invited us to all stand on our feet and join in for one more singing of Going Back to Hogwarts with them. I screamed Ravenclaw really loud to make my fellow Ravenclaw’s proud. After that it was time for the bows and everyone clapped and cheered and Brian R. stayed on stage with his fist raised for a long time, so Nick Lang came out and was all “Brian the show is over Voldemort is dead we won.” something along that line. Then Brian goes “dead?” mimes skipping a rock and sinks to his knees. About that time Joe W. came out and they did the whole “Is okay good part” then rang to each other and stood back to back before being joined by the whole cast singing Not Alone again and then we sang GBTH again and the show was over. We all clapped and cheered for a long time and AJ and Clark had to wave us out of the theater.

All in all it was an amazing night and I will never forget it. I am sure I am forgetting some things that happened and I do apologize for that. Thank you StarKid for an amazing ten years, I love and adore each and everyone of you. I can not wait for what is next. 

All My Love,

Jo

PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG. THIS TOOK ME A LONG TIME TO TYPE UP. IF YOU WANT TO REBLOG PLEASE MESSAGE ME FIRST. THANK YOU.

#Team StarKid #StarKid #StarKid Homecoming #SK10 #PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG #fallingforboyswithmicrophones

[anoptimisticsnarker]

Damn, the number of troops Viren has in his little army against Xadia… It’s a hell of a lot larger than I was anticipating. My God...

They actually made it across the desert with no more complications. And Rayla and Callum are headed to the Storm Spire. Nyx, you should be lucky you weren’t left in the desert last episode. Stop pushing your luck and just leave before things get any more awkward. Ezran is also on his way still, Phoe-Phoe having flown all night. How is she not tired?

Soren tried to swat away the bug Aaravos uses to talk to Viren away. Aaravos also took great amusement in Viren calling him “his little bug friend”. So, Avizandum is the Dragon King’s name. It makes sense and it is close to Azymondias. The name Thunder just isn’t as cool. We are getting some backstory into how Viren killed him though, much to Aaravos’s great interest.

So, it was a powerful spell that started everything off. That honestly doesn’t surprise me. The visuals in this scene were really well-done. I liked the music choices, and you can feel Harrow’s repressed anger as he thinks about what Sarai didn’t get to see as she died far earlier than expected. I wonder if this spell is why Viren has his ghastly appearance…

Soren is really trying to break the tense mood. I don’t think Kasef appreciates you butchering the name of his kingdom like that though, sir. 

Ezran is inching ever closer to where Rayla and Callum are. It’s only a matter of time before he catches up to them. Phoe-Phoe is killing herself though. I hope she’s able to get back to the Moon Nexus safely once she gets Ezran to where they need to go.

Kasef I think is just weirded out by Claudia’s whoel family. Soren’s airheadedness, Claudia’s quirky personality, and Viren talking to a bug on his ear. Yeah, Kasef’s definitely freaked the hell out. Speaking of Viren, it looks like we’re getting how exactly he took down Avizandum.

So, Harrow and Viren went to the very place that Rayla and Callum are headed to now. Avizandum’s voice is very imposing. And he was willing to let them go, but Harrow was blinded by hatred and took him out anyway. Seeing him struggle to get back while turning to stone absolutely broke me, especially when his last tear fell from his eye. But Viren knows that the Egg exists and that’s what Avizandum was trying to get back to. Now I get why they had the Egg in the first place.

Rayla and Callum have reached where Avizandum turned to stone. The fact he’s still there… It seems to have gotten to Zym. I guess instinctively he knows who that is. And Phoe-Phoe has also made it there. Ezran has arrived at last.

Aaravos had the nerve to clap at the end of the story. He and Avizandum have some history. And it was Avizandum who imprisoned Aaravos in the first place. I wonder where though; a few centuries anywhere would drive anyone mad. And while the Breach has been destroyed, Claudia is going to try and get around that. Oh boy…

So, we got the happy reunion, and I’m glad the group is back together. It just feels so right. Though, Phoe-Phoe killed herself, literally, to get Ezran to the others. Fortunately, she’s a Moon Phoenix, so she’s going to be reborn, it will just take a lot of time for that to happen.

They made it to the breach. Viren’s out here acting like he’s Moses parting the sea of lava. I’m sorry, but Moses was a holy man. You are not, Viren. Please do not imitate Moses.

Callum is feeling very conflicted seeing the rock corpse of Avizandum. I can understand his turmoil because there’s a lot going through his mind. This is the person that took his mom’s life, but as this was Zym’s dad, his stepfather took Avizandum’s life. It shows how getting revenge is an endless spiral where no one wins. But Ezran and Zym just getting along is the hope they need. They’re the end of the cycle.

#Yoshi Watches The Dragon Prince #TDP Spoilers #The Dragon Prince Spoilers #Spoilers #This episode was an emotional roller coaster #I had to stop a few times to process things for real

[sirkkasnow]

01 Let Trouble Come To You

Ao3 link

06/30/13 Sunday

Stan registered three things as he stepped out into the heavy summer sunshine:

First, there was an old square-sided station wagon smashed nose first into the side of the Shack.

Second, Ford had just wrenched open the driver’s door.

Third, the occupant of the wagon, a well-dressed woman, looked up – disoriented but conscious – eyes flicking to his twin, then to him.

Son of a bitch, thought Stan, pushing himself into a jog across the lawn. He hadn’t made it halfway before the woman in the wagon clapped both hands over her startled mouth and burst into tears. Ford winced, backing off with the penlight he’d been waving in her face. Stan put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and drew him back another step, leaning in.

“Hey. Hey, ma’am, you okay in there?”

He got a shaky nod that did nothing to interrupt a series of faint jagged sobs, the kind of tears you got when you were trying very hard not to cry. The driver curled in on herself, knees tucked up, a ball of misery he had no idea how to unravel.

Mabel popped out of the nearest door and skidded to a halt in open-mouthed surprise. Stan pointed her way. “Mabel! Pumpkin, go get a box of tissues and a cold washcloth, all right? Ford, what the hell?”

“I have no idea! I heard it just when you did. I was in the lab – “

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“ – testing the new safety features I just installed on the magnet gun.” Ford looked over his shoulder in dawning horror. “Which must have pulled this victim of circumstance right into the house.” Mabel was already back, dashing to the driver’s side with tissues and washcloth in hand. Her bright voice rang out in greeting and got a muffled response.

“Sweet Moses, Ford, you’ve done it this time.” Stan pulled himself upright with a sigh, doing the mental math and eyeing the damage to the Shack’s shingling. The wagon had definitely gotten the worst of it, he decided with a twinge of relief. He noted a few details – Colorado plates, occupied bike rack, the clutter of an extended road trip jammed into the rear compartment. “Ma’am?”

The woman in the wagon had uncurled a bit, finally, pressing the washcloth to her face. She lowered it to reveal fine, sharp features, grey eyes pink at the edges. “Clary,” she said, thick-voiced, then cleared her throat. “Clary Merrick.”

Mabel was patting Clary’s knee. “She says she’s okay! Clary, these are my grunkles, you’ve met Ford and that’s Stan. Welcome to the Mystery Shack! I’m really sorry about all of this!” Her eyes tracked over to Ford, who was looking guiltier by the second.

“It’s all good, Mabel. Just an accident, right? We’ll get a tow truck out here for this poor unfortunate – “

“I’ll take care of it,” said Ford.

Stan bit back a laugh. “You, fix this mess?”

“I’ve figured out a few alien vehicles in my time – “

“You kiddin’ me?”

Stan turned away from the car, tugging Ford along with him. “You do see what kinda shape this thing is in, right? This was somewhere between vintage and decrepit before it got friendly with the Shack. I can probably get it runnin’ again, but unless you have an engine-repair gun hiding in that lab of yours, that’s gonna take time.”

“Stanley. This is my fault.” The corners of Ford’s eyes crinkled with distress and Stan swore internally.

“Look. Fine. We can let her stay here for the night and I’ll take a look in the mornin’, but you’re gonna modify that magnet gun to iron out body panels or we won’t get too far.” Behind them, a heavy click marked the release of the seat belt.

“A tow truck would be fine. I’d really hate to impose.” Clary stepped unsteadily out of the station wagon, pushing out behind her with a careless hand to close the door with a firm thunk.

The four of them watched as the S from the Shack sign wobbled, skittered with increasing speed down the roof and thudded with a deep crunch square into the center of the crumpled hood. A last hiss of steam welled, faded and died.

Clary laid a hand over her brow, drew a long, steadying breath and turned away. “I’d be happy to take you up on a spare room for the night. Thank you so much.”

Their guest – Stan had to keep reminding himself, guest and not expensive, potentially litigious annoyance – pulled a small overnight bag out of the back seat and trailed after the family to the house, pausing to swap phone contacts with Mabel on the way. Waddles trotted by to check out Clary’s ankles, prompting exclamations and explanations on the way inside. He couldn’t blame the lady. Few people expected to be accosted by a pet pig.

Clary spent five minutes in the washroom and emerged looking…polished. Eyes clear, tear blotching gone, hair tucked smoothly away into its twist. The jaunty little silk neckerchief wrapped snugly twice and knotted at her neck had been set straight. Her glance drifted across Stan’s without really sticking and she offered a careful smile, tagging along with Mabel for what sounded like a house tour.

Stan recruited Dipper as an assistant. Clearing the spare room went fairly quickly, boxes of old merchandise stacked off to one side. He fished out a marker and tagged a few for later discount – some of this stuff had to be six years out of date by now, not quite old enough for a retro sale.

“ – and here is your room! Which is now almost completely clear of terrifying cursed artifacts and where you are guaranteed to have a great night’s sleep!” Mabel burst through the door and tossed a heap of pillows on the almost-inflated air mattress, ignoring Dipper’s hey! of protest as he labored away at the foot pump.

Clary stuck her head in, then leaned through the doorframe just enough to drop off a pile of blankets, linens and a large stuffed blue whale. “The whale’s on loan,” she said, when Stan shot her a flat look of disbelief.

“We’ll make the bed,” Mabel sang. “You two go get acquainted!” She nudged Dipper aside and took over foot-pump duties with enthusiasm.

“Uh – yeah, I guess we’ll see you guys in a couple minutes?” Dipper scooped up the sheets. “We’ve got this.”

Stan found himself ejected into the hallway. Clary blinked up at him, expression softened by maybe a quarter smile. “Mabel is a force of nature.”

“You said it. C’mon, sounds like you already got a pretty good look at the joint.” Stan tipped a thumb over at the connecting door. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to the Mystery Shack before?”

“I’ve never been to Oregon before, but I know the name, at least. Saw a bumper sticker – “

“Ha!” Clary rocked back on her heels in surprise. “Hear that, Ford?” Stan yelled in the general direction of the kitchen. “Those bumper stickers were a good investment! And Sixer says they’re too ‘plain’ and ‘graphically simplistic’ and ‘don’t even have an address on them Stanley how is anyone supposed to find the place’ to attract customers.”

“Well, they are graphically simplistic!” Ford leaned over to call back through the kitchen doorway. “I don’t know how she found the place, let alone thought ‘What is the Mystery Shack’ was compelling.”

“No, no, I liked it. Very minimalist. What’s the point of advertising the Mystery Shack if there isn’t a little mystery to solve on the way? Besides,” her voice dropped into a barely-audible rumble, “I’d say it was the magnet gun that was really compelling.”

She’d said that in perfect deadpan, and Stan’s grin went wide. “I like you, Clary. How about I give you a tour sometime tomorrow, regular price.”

That got him a doubtful sidelong frown, and Stan laughed. “We’ll eat in like half an hour. Feel free to unpack or get interrogated by Mabel or whatever. Congratulations, you’re the most interestin’ thing to have happened here all summer.”

Twenty minutes later Ford had managed to pad out dinner with some odds and ends from the freezer. They swiped a kitchen chair to wedge in at the dining table. Clary now sported a Mabel scarf pinned across her chest, anchoring a dishtowel-wrapped bundle of what had to be frozen peas at her left shoulder. Stan reckoned she was anticipating a bruise from the seat belt. Smart. Mabel, bless her, led in with loud enthusiasm about the pleasures of summer in Gravity Falls, and a round of questions followed as he loaded up his plate.

“I’m a lawyer,” Clary said into a still moment. “I specialize in federal tax work.”

He hadn’t been tuned in to the conversation, but that particular combination of phrases was enough to both douse Stan’s nerves in ice water and trigger a regrettable reflex. He set an elbow on the table, leaned in, and said: “What’s the difference between a lady lawyer and a pitbull?”

Clary’s focus snapped to him. Stan raised an eyebrow.

The professional mask didn’t slip, but there was a spark of hot defiance at the back of her eyes. “Lipstick. Why did New Jersey get all the toxic waste and California get all the lawyers?”

Stan almost laughed – apparently there was something human in there after all. “Jersey got to pick first. What’s the difference between a dead skunk in the road and a dead lawyer in the road?”

“Skid marks in front of the skunk. What’s the difference between a lawyer and a boxing referee?” Clary relaxed with an arm draped along the back of her chair, looking at him with her chin cocked the slightest bit in challenge. Mabel had both hands over her mouth, stifling a giggle; Ford and Dipper both looked like they wanted to dive for cover.

“A boxin’ referee doesn’t get paid more for a longer fight.” He’d pinned down the accent now – she sounded like Ford, faint traces of a mid-Atlantic cadence all but buffed off by too much damn education. Not Southern enough for Virginia, so – “You’re a long way from home, Maryland.”

“Could say the same for you, Jersey,” she fired back, lips quirked, aware that she’d had the easier lift. “Long Branch?”

Shit, she had him within thirty miles. Stan rolled with it, slung her a finger-gun and a wink. “Close. Baltimore?”

Clary rolled her eyes in return. “There’s not much else in Maryland, but close enough, hon.”

That took some of the starch out, and the discussion relaxed a little. Clary chatted museums with Mabel and Dipper, displaying all the trademark enthusiasm of a hopeless nerd, which was probably going to make dinner even more exhausting than usual for the next few days.

Stan lobbed an occasional joke at Clary for the rest of the meal. She swatted them back with the easy contempt of a bored tennis pro. He was going to have to do some research, because she definitely knew more lousy lawyer cracks than he did.

They left the dishes for later. Ford perched atop the skull side table, Mabel made herself at home on one arm of Stan’s recliner, and Dipper helped pile up a mountain of pillows for himself and Clary. “Are you all caught up on Ducktective?” he asked as Stan got the TV going and started skimming through channels.

“Never seen it, I’m afraid.”

“You’ve never seen it?! Oh my gosh, there is so much going on this week! Listen up, I’ll explain the basics!” Dipper plopped onto a pillow next to Clary and managed to keep it more or less to a whisper, going squeaky as he got to the really good bits.

The whole room went tense and silent for that week’s reveal, then exploded in groans as Mabel waved a dismissive hand at the screen. “Oh, come on! DipDop called that twist like a month ago.”

Dipper puffed out his bony chest. “Well, Mabel, once you’ve seen real weird, mere fiction gets a lot easier to predict.”

“Uh huh. Those real dishes aren’t gonna do themselves.” Stan headed Dipper off at the pass with a brief glare of warning and hauled himself upright. “Clary, you mind helpin’ me round all that up?”

Ford gently shooed the kids up to bed as Stan and Clary cleared the table and headed for the kitchen. She tossed the bag of peas back into the freezer and headed over to join Stan at the sink, taking up a dishtowel, accepting clean glasses and swiping them dry as he passed them over. “That was an adventure.”

“There’s a ton to catch up on, there. Last season was pretty good. You gotta laptop or somethin’?”

“Mmhm. Not sure how much time I’ll have to spare for binge watching, though. What’s your read on the car?”

“Need to have a look under the hood for that. At least a couple days, and honestly, maybe a little more.” Stan watched her lips compress from the corner of one eye. “That thing’s a classic, if you wanna put it charitably.”

“You’re being charitable. I did have – “ Clary smiled briefly up at Ford as he joined them to start on put-away duty. “I did have some work done on it before I left just to make sure it wouldn’t break down. The plan was for a pretty long trip. Not that it matters much at this point.”

“What’s a girl from Maryland doing out in Oregon with a Colorado license plate?”

“I inherited the car. I’m driving to Seattle to scatter my mother’s ashes in the Pacific.”

And damn, what a way to kill a line of inquiry. She handed a dry plate off to Ford, who put it in the appropriate cupboard, looking a little lost. For a good thirty seconds it was nothing but running water and the clink of china.

“So – does the timin’ matter? We could get you on a bus, hook you up with a rental?” Stan was running the mental math again, and yeah, like it or not this one was going to be on him and his brother. Well, dammit.

“She’s dead, Stan, no one’s in a hurry. Least of all me.” A tiny, bitter twist pulled at one corner of her mouth, but she looked up to Ford and her tone was sincere. “Listen. This was an accident, I get it. A very weird accident. I was already planning to make a sort of travel holiday of this, and I’ve got no issue staying in Gravity Falls for a little while – I’ve got the bike and plenty to read. Can you recommend a hotel? A B&B maybe?”

Yes! thought Stan, then No! as Ford opened his mouth and started playing gracious host, of all things. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Clary. I know it’s crowded, but we already have a room set aside for you, and at the very least I can promise you won’t be bored. You’d be right at the center of activity here! I can suggest some hikes, we have lots of games, there’s the lake and the Shack itself of course. You should be able to reach almost anything with that bicycle.”

Stan did his level best to make please, no, come on already faces at Ford over Clary’s head, which was difficult because she was so damned tall. The twins only had about three inches on her. Ford was either missing the signals or being deliberately oblivious. Stan mentally wagered on the latter.

“I’m tempted,” Clary said carefully.

“Please, just sleep on it. I know it’s been a difficult day, and again, I’m so sorry to have put you in this predicament.” Ford lightly plucked the last glass from her fingers and reached up to set it into its place. “We’ll check on both the car and your shoulder.”

For a moment Clary’s lashes dipped down and her fingers twisted into the dishtowel. “All right. You’re very generous, Ford, Stan, thank you. We can go over it in the morning. I’m afraid you’re right, it’s been one hell of a day and I should get some rest. Good night, gentlemen.”

“Good night, Clary.”

“G’night.” Stan dropped a couple of ice cubes into a glass and lifted it in dismissive salute as she headed out towards the repurposed storage room, then gave Ford his very best ‘What the hell, Sixer’ look. What he got back was wide-eyed mock innocence and a shrug.

“Seriously?” Stan said, letting his brow smack lightly into the freezer door.

“I owe her,” Ford said with as much dignity as he could muster. “And it seems to me that she could use the company.”

Stan tapped his head against the freezer twice more before straightening with a groan.

“You were getting bored anyway.” Ford spared Stan a knowing glance.

“I have not been that bored.”

“You were bored enough to take another shot at Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons last week.”

“Yeah, that ended in flames. Let’s hope this doesn’t.”

“She’s interesting, that’s for certain! Perhaps we can make a few minor upgrades to the engine before we send her out again….”

“Ford. Do not.”

It was too late, of course, it had been too late well before Ford had voiced the idea, and he was already jotting notes in his spare pad as Stan watched him wander down the hallway. He’d be up until two in the morning, as usual.

Stan topped off his glass with water and shuffled off towards his own room. Bored. Pfft.

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Clary is talking to the others at the table, and you think you catch something about her doing federal tax law stuff. Yikes.

Crack a lousy lady driver joke.

Crack a lousy cryptid joke.

Crack a lousy lawyer joke.

#gravity falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #swooning over stans #stanley pines #oclicious #fanfic

[quranreadalong]

#17, Surah 3

THE QURAN READ ALONG: DAY 17

Be warned: this section is another mangled Biblical fanfic, like the stuff about Moses in surah two. This one is about Mary, as in the mother of Jesus, and her family. Her family including Imran, who appears in this crossover Exodus/Gospels fic as Mary’s father instead of Joachim. The good news is that this means there will be less hellfire, disbelievers are evil, etc in this section compared to usual.

We begin with 3:35, in which her unnamed mother (Anne) vows to give her unborn child to Allah as an “offering”, and after Mary’s birth begs Allah to protect Mary from Satan. A hadith tells us this means that Mary (and Jesus) were protected from his touch. Allah “accepted her with full acceptance”.

Zechariah (Zakariyya), the future father of John the Baptist, is then appointed the young Mary’s male guardian. Now this is a change from the Gospel of Luke, in which a pregnant Mary visits her cousin Elizabeth, who is Zechariah’s wife, and stays with her for a few months; she doesn’t go there because Zechariah is her “guardian”. But in Islamic and pre-Islamic Arab tradition, young women are appointed a “guardian” or wali from their male family members, who must approve of marriages and such. You might be wondering why Zechariah is Mary’s wali instead of Imran. The Quran..... doesn’t say!

The sira and history books greatly elaborate upon the story of Mary’s early life, since so much of it is vague in the Quran itself. Al-Tabari (volume 4) brings Joseph in as her carpenter cousin, who serves in a temple with Mary. Joseph realizes she’s pregnant, and tells her to run away so she won’t be accused of adultery. She runs to her sister’s house (her sister being Elizabeth), and her brother-in-law (Zechariah) takes her in. So that’s how the relationship is explained there. Ibn Ishaq’s sira contains an interesting story in which both of Mary’s parents die and her new guardian is chosen randomly. Zechariah is her initial guardian, but then a carpenter-monk (yes, a monk in Jewish Palestine, long story) named Jurayj takes her in. More on him in a second.

3:37 says Allah gave Mary food in a temple, which is odd and doesn’t appear in the Bible. The idea seems to come from the apocryphal Gospel of James, which was an inauthentic Gospel (probably written by a Roman-born Christian) that was popular for a couple of centuries. It reads:

And Mary was in the temple of the Lord as if she were a dove that dwelt there, and she received food from the hand of an angel.

But anyway. 3:38 continues the Biblical story, with Zechariah praying and an angel telling Zechariah that he will be the father of John the Baptist even though he and his wife are old. Zechariah is rendered temporarily mute.

All of this is neutral and, besides the food part (and Zechariah being Mary’s “guardian”), pretty much just Mohammed recounting the beginning of the Gospel of Luke. We’re now gonna talk about Mary herself. Some angels tell Mary that she has been chosen by Allah:

Allah hath chosen thee and made thee pure, and hath preferred thee above (all) the women of creation.

This is also almost word-for-word from the Gospel ("thou that art highly favoured, the Lord is with thee: blessed art thou among women”). 3:43 is a non-Biblical aside of the angels telling Mary to “prostrate thyself and bow with those who bow (in worship)”, in the Muslim fashion. About the only other interesting thing here is that Mary is talking to angels, plural. In the Biblical story, and in other parts of the Quran, it’s just one angel. Lo! Allah hath trouble counting at times, let us ignore it.

3:44 is a hilarious verse where Allah smugly tells everyone that he revealed this story exclusively to Mohammed, which is proof that he is a prophet because how else could he know all of this? Besides the fact that 90% of it is from the Bible and the rest he made up? But I want this to be a nice section so I will call it neutral.

Anyway, right, back to the story. The angels are talking to Mary. They tell her that she will give birth to the Messiah (not the son of God as in the Christian story), who will preach to the people. Mary is a virgin and does not understand how this is possible. But Allah can do anything.

Keeping the virgin birth story has always struck me as odd, given that Jesus is explicitly not Allah’s son in Islam. He’s not anyone’s son, really, besides Mary’s. He doesn’t have a father, divine or otherwise. Allah just made him and then sent an angel to breathe his ruh (spirit) into him, the way he made Adam... why he did this or what it accomplished is never really said. Lo! Allah was just bored that day.

Allah, the angels tell Mary, will mentally teach Jesus how to preach and he will be a prophet. He will perform miracles, like bringing clay birds to life.

This tale is not in the Bible but is in the non-Biblical Gospel of Thomas, which was part of some groups’ traditions at the time, like the Gospel of James:

Lo, thy child is at the brook, and he hath taken clay and fashioned twelve little birds, and hath polluted the Sabbath day. And Joseph came to the place and saw: and cried out to him, saying: Wherefore doest thou these things on the Sabbath, which it is not lawful to do? But Jesus clapped his hands together and cried out to the sparrows and said to them: Go! and the sparrows took their flight and went away chirping.

Then all of a sudden we have a timeskip and we’re talking about the adult Jesus, whose job was “confirming that which was before me of the Torah, and to make lawful some of that which was forbidden unto you”. Jesus tells people to worship Allah and recruits his disciples since they believe in his teachings. Like all the other prophets, Muslim!Jesus’ message is one of full monotheism and not much else... none of his famous sayings from the Bible feature in the Quran. In fact, adult Muslim!Jesus barely says anything at all, as Mohammed seemed to prefer his childhood tales. But this, like everything else in this section, is a neutral retelling.

This has all been a very boring re-tread, I know. But here’s the new and exciting part! 3:54 takes us to just before Jesus’ last days. There are schemes afoot:

And they (the disbelievers) schemed, and Allah schemed (against them): and Allah is the best of schemers.

What scheme was Allah working on, you may ask? Allah tells Jesus that “I am gathering thee and causing thee to ascend unto Me”. You see, as we shall learn later, Jesus was not killed in the crucifixion. No... he ascended into heaven beforehand. We will see in surah four that the crucifixion was an illusion with a fake Jesus. Truly you are a great schemer, Allah! (I’ll save this dumb story for the next surah.)

Then--wait a minute, I forgot about this one! I wanted an entire section free of badness! Damn it, Mohammed!

As for those who disbelieve I shall chastise them with a heavy chastisement in the world and the Hereafter; and they will have no helpers.

I’m not even trying to label things bad, but Mohammed gives me no choice sometimes. Kuffar hell count: 1. Sigh. At least it is coupled with a semi-good ayah, where good Muslims go to jannah:

And as for those who believe and do good works, He will pay them their wages in full. Allah loveth not wrong-doers.

I know, I know, I’m being overly generous here. But this was meant to be a happy neutral section! At least we have a neutral recap, with 3:58 calling all of the above a “revelation” and 3:59 saying that Allah created Jesus like Adam, from dust (in Mary’s womb).

Those who doubt the wisdom Mohammed pulled out of his ass are “those who waver”, as we have seen many times. And anyone who questions what Mohammed says about Jesus, well... I’ll let him explain:

And whoso disputeth with thee concerning him, after the knowledge which hath come unto thee, say (unto him): Come! We will summon our sons and your sons, and our women and your women, and ourselves and yourselves, then we will pray humbly (to our Lord) and (solemnly) invoke the curse of Allah upon those who lie.

Sure thing, bud. The curse mentioned here is known as the mubahala in Islamic tradition. It supposedly involved Mohammed “inviting” some Christians from the Arab city of Najran to Islam, then getting pissy when they say “wait that’s not how the story went, you’ve got it wrong”, then he makes his family pray with him in order to curse them. This isn’t really found in any reputable ahadith and may be a fictitious account. But since it is, and historically has been, accepted as a real thing by both Sunni and Shia scholars, I’ll quote Ibn Ishaq’s description of the events. It begins:

A deputation from the Christians came to the apostle. There were sixty riders

Ibn Ishaq then attempts to explain why Christians think that Jesus is God, relating to his miracles, the virgin birth, YHWH’s use of plural pronouns, etc. He gets some details wrong about the faith, but only because he is trying to base it on Mohammed’s own mistaken assumptions. Mohammed refutes the Christians’ claims about Allah, though he stumbles on the question of why Allah calls himself “We” if the Trinity doctrine is false and admits he does not know. Then the story continues:

the apostle said to them, "Submit yourselves [and convert to Islam]." They said, "We have submitted". ... He said "You lie. Your assertion that God has a son, your worship of the cross, and your eating pork hold you back from submission.”

Following this is a description of the surah up to what we've already read. Ibn Ishaq then puts this into the story:

Later her guardian was Jurayj, the ascetic, a carpenter of [the Jews]. ... A grievous famine befell [Israel] and Zachariah was unable to support her so they cast lots to see who should be her guardian and the lot fell on Jurayj the ascetic and he became her guardian.

“Jurayj”? Who might this be? While he is not in the Quran, “Jurayj” is actually mentioned in a sahih hadith, where he is again described as a monk living in a monastery. In uh... like 10 AD Roman Judea? Anyway the full story involves a woman falsely accusing him of fathering her child, when in fact the baby was fathered by a shepherd. He is arrested and his monastery is destroyed. But the truth is revealed when Jurayj touches the baby boy and the baby tells everyone who his father was, then the monastery is re-built in apology.

Okay, so obviously the idea that some monk named George lived in pre-Christian Judea is nonsense, but where did Mohammed get this story from and how the hell did “Jurayj” get involved in the story of Mary? The topic hasn’t been explored much by any scholars, as far as I can tell. The name is obviously derived from “George” or “Gregory”, and I’ve come across places listing stories about various saints with similar miracles attributed to them. So Jurayj was based on some tales of a Christian monk. The obvious guess as to how he made his way into the story of Mary, as mentioned by Ibn Ishaq, is that he was conflated with Joseph (thus carpenter-monk).

Uh... right! That was a long digression. Ibn Ishaq then describes the rest of the surah up to the present point. He says that Allah commanded Mohammed to curse the Christians and Mohammed dared the Christians to do the same to him, but they knew “right well that Mohammed is a prophet” and so declined, fearing Allah’s wrath if they dared curse him. Then they went home.

But whatever. It’s pretty bad to curse people for having religious disagreements either way.

Finally, to wrap this section up, 3:62 has Mohammed again saying that this is what really happened, unlike the Christian story, and 3:63 tells us that anyone who says otherwise is one of the “corrupters”. Way to end it on a bad note.

That’s it for the Mary and Jesus business for this surah. What a mess.

NEXT TIME: We return to the regularly scheduled chastising of disbelievers.

The Quran Read-Along: Day 17

Ayat: 30

Good: 1 (3:57)

Neutral: 24 (3:35-56, 3:58-60, 3:62)

Bad: 4 (3:56, 3:60-61, 3:63)

Kuffar hell counter: 1 (3:56)

⇚ previous day | next day ⇛

#quranreadalong #surah 3 #al imran

[raichoose-moved]

hold bird gently like Hamburger 

#sorry for the absence ; work's been super busy #have a Mo! #clap along if you know what happiness is to you ( moses ) #and all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear ( jonathan crane ) #and i say welcome to the show ( ic ) #like a bat out of hell ( v ; dc comics )

[shefa]

Walk a Mile in My Shoes

WALK A MILE IN MY SHOES SERMON FOR KOL NIDRE 5778 -- 2017 Rabbi Stephen Weiss, B'nai Jeshurun Congregation

Well here we are on Yom Kippur eve, Kol Nidre, the most solemn day in the whole Jewish calendar. So, I want to begin this evening by invoking the King. No, not the King of Kings, but rather the King of Rock and Roll. And I’m going to ask you to help me out, by clapping along with me, and singing too if you know the words:

If I could be you, if you could be me for just one hour If we could find a way to get inside each other's mind If you could see you through my eyes instead of your ego I believe you'd be, I believe you'd be surprised to see that you've been blind

Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Yeah, before you abuse, criticize, and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes

Now if we spend the day throwing stones at one another ‘Cause I don’t think ‘cause I don’t think or wear my hair same way you do O well I may be common people but I’m your brother And when you strike out to try hurt me, it’s a hurtin’ you

Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Yeah, before you abuse, criticize, and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes

Now there are people on reservations and out in the ghetto And, brother, there, but for the grace of God go you and I If I only had the wings of a little angel Don't you know I'd fly - to the top of a mountain and then I'd cry, cry, cry?

Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Yeah, before you abuse, criticize, and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes

Sing it with me!

Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Yeah, before you abuse, criticize, and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes

I’ve been humming that Elvis Presley song a lot lately, because after all, this day is all about shoes. What kind of shoes are you wearing today? Running shoes? Crocs? Dress shoes with a rubber sole? Probably not blue suede shoes. We don’t wear leather-soled shoes on Yom Kippur because leather is understood by our sages as a sign of luxury and comfort. Our sages did not want us to get too comfortable in our own shoes. They wanted us to step outside our comfort zone, to get inside someone else’s skin, their heart, their mind, to experience life through their eyes, to learn what it’s like to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. To experience empathy. Because only through the experience of empathy can we both change ourselves and change the world around us.

Let me share with you a story about such a change. In 2012, Csanad Szegedi was poised to lead Jobbik, an ultra-nationalist neo-Nazi, racist, anti-Semitic political party in Hungary that garnered 20% of the vote in 2014. Jobbik consistently accuses the Jews of being at the center of a cabal of western economic interests seeking world domination.

The opposition research from Szegedi’s rivals revealed the surprising news that Szegedi’s maternal grandmother and grandfather were Auschwitz survivors. It was true. When his mother was fourteen, her father told her the secret but insisted that she never reveal it to anyone. And she didn’t, not even to Szegedi, who was shocked by the news.

When Szegedi first admitted the truth about his Jewish ancestry, one party leader urged him to shoot himself. Another urged him to make a public apology. It was this comment that made him say, “Wait a minute, I am supposed to apologize for the fact that my family was killed at Auschwitz?” When he stepped out of his comfort zone and gave a speech in support of Israel, skinheads and neo-Nazis showed up at his home chanting “Death to the Jews.” He was forced to experience what Hungarian Jews had experienced at the hands of his Jobbik party, at his hands as a Jobbik leader. This changed him forever. In response, he devoted himself to defending human rights. He says, “I am aware of my responsibility and I know I will have to make it right in the future.”

Having learned the truth about himself, he resigned from the party, went to visit a local rabbi, studied Torah and underwent circumcision. Dovid, as he is now known, became a religious Jew, keeping kosher and observing Shabbat, studying Torah and Talmud and davening regularly. And this fall he made aliyah to Israel.

Walk a mile in my shoes.

Szegedi had radical empathy forced upon him by circumstance. But empathy can be a force in our more mundane everyday lives as well.

Let me give you a simple example. It happened once that a young girl’s friend lost her favorite doll which she’d brought over to play with. She was heartbroken. She sat on the steps and began to cry. When the first little girl’s mother came outside to check on the girls, she found them both sitting on the step sobbing. She asked what was wrong, and her daughter told her through her tears that her little friend, Suzie had lost her favorite doll. The mother looked puzzled for a bit, then asked her daughter, “did you lose your doll too?” “No”, the daughter sobbed. “Then what’s wrong with you?” asked the mother, “Nothing” she sobbed. “I’m just helping Suzie cry.”

Helping Suzie cry. You see, that’s what real empathy is. Empathy is feeling what another person is feeling. It is the art of stepping imaginatively into the shoes of another person, understanding their feelings, their experiences, their perspectives, the way they see the world, and using that understanding to guide your own actions.

Walk a mile in my shoes.

Empathy is not sympathy. Sympathy is when I feel for you. Empathy is when I feel with you. Sympathy is when say “I know you are hurting.” Empathy is when I endeavor to feel and understand your hurt from your perspective. When I hurt with you.

Imagine that someone has fallen in a deep dark hole in their lives. And they shout out “I’m stuck, it’s dark, and I’m overwhelmed.” Sympathy is when you look over the edge of that hole and you look over the edge of that hole, and you wave down there and you say, “Wow. That looks really bad.” Empathy is when you climb down into the hole. You stand with them, and you say: Hey, I know what it’s like down here. I’ve been down here. You’re not alone.”

Moses climbed down in that hole. The midrash tells us that Moses among the slaves in the field and put his shoulder to the grindstone. He felt others' pain as his own, and helped alleviate their burden.

Rabbi Israel Salanter, the great 19th century founder of the Mussar movement, also climbed down into that hole. The Jewish community of Kovno operated a homeless shelter which fell into disrepair. Despite various appeals, the community failed to fix the facility. So what did Rabbi Israel Salant do? He went to sleep in the broken-down shelter. And he vowed to continue doing so until proper repairs were made.

The Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism, taught that a tzaddik – a righteous person – must go down into Gehenna – to Hell – himself to be able to raise up souls. Not to sin with them. Not to castigate them. But to be with them empathetically and experience their pain. If you cannot experience someone’s pain, if you cannot identify with them, you cannot help lift them up.

Walk a mile in my shoes.

The amazing thing is that we are hard-wired for empathy. Scientists have discovered that some 20% of the neurons in our brain are what they call “mirror neurons.” These “mirror neurons” fire when we see someone else doing or feeling something, and they allow us to participate with them in a kind of virtual reality. You’ve all experienced it: When you see a scary scene in a movie, and you jump just as the actor who is scared jumps. When you are with someone who is experiencing pain and you wince. When you see a face that looks sad and it makes you feel sad. That’s our “mirror neurons.” It’s as if the barriers between us dissolve, as if our minds and our bodies become one.

That’s what eastern religions teach, and that’s what Judaism teaches as well. Kabbalah – Jewish mysticism – tells us that all the distinctions between us are illusory, that in truth we are all part of one unity. You and I, the chairs on which you sit, the trees and grass outside these windows and the air we breathe are all a part of the flow of Gods energy and spirit. That’s the meaning of the Shema. Not just that there is one God, but that God is the singularity of the universe, that everything is contained and unified within God’s spirit, forever connected. To understand this is to understand the true meaning of empathy. It is the God-given ability to dissolve the barriers between us and become one with each other.

Empathy enables us to feel connected to and supported by others. It is a cornerstone of our emotional intelligence, contributing to both our humility and our self-esteem. It opens our minds to new landscapes and challenges us to grow in new directions. It should come as no surprise then that empathy contributes to our emotional wellbeing and our happiness.

Philosopher Mary Gordon points out that at the Nuremberg trials, one of the judges pointed to the war crimes of the Holocaust as a “failure of empathy.” She goes on to say that “Empathy is integral to solving conflict in the family, schoolyard, boardroom and war room. The ability to take the perspective of another person, to identify commonalities through our shared feelings, is the best peace pill we have.”

Walk a mile in my shoes.

And yet it seems that lately we have lost touch with this unique gift that God has given us. Instead of breaking down barriers we seem to build them up, drawing ever more distinctions between “us” and “them.” We live in a world marked by a hostile disregard for the ‘other’ whether that ‘other’ is someone of a different race, religion, gender, orientation, or political persuasion, or a different segment of society. We especially seem to demonize those who hold different opinions from our own.

Indeed, we suffer from an empathy deficit. Studies show that empathy levels in this county have dropped by nearly 50% in the last three decades. The most dramatic drop has been in the last ten years. Why is that?

First, we must acknowledge that feeling empathy is hard for us because it requires us to feel vulnerable and out of control. Feeling someone else’s pain may open up wounds of our own that we have managed to suppress and feeling emotions we may not want to feel. Looking at things from another person’s perspective may challenge our own beliefs and assumptions.

We also suffer from an increasing focus on ourselves. The 90’s was the “me” generation. The millennial decade has been the “I” generation. For decades, our psychologists have told us that if we want to solve our problems and to feel contentment in life we should look inside ourselves to resolve our issues, instead of telling us to look outside at the world and those around us. You don’t believe me? Just go to the bookstore and see how large the “Self-Help” section is. Then do me a favor. Go find the section labeled “Helping Others.” Of course, you won’t find it.

Some of this decline in empathy is also from compassion fatigue. We are flooded daily with news of catastrophes so overwhelming and so frequent as to make us numb: Harvey, Irma, Jose and Maria, the tsunami in Asia, the earthquake in Mexico, refugees from Syria, the genocide of the Rohingya, terror attacks in Israel… it’s just more than we can absorb.

Some of this decline in empathy may be technology itself making us less empathetic. Not just being on our computers, tablets and phones all the time, but technology’s very presence in our lives. Did you know that studies show that if there is a phone just sitting, turned off, on the table between two people, those people listen less to each other? Isn’t that fascinating?

Our resistance to empathy also comes from being in a state of denial. Perhaps we feel shame or guilt that by contrast, we live such privileged lives. Perhaps we turn away because we don’t want to admit that we might be somehow responsible. So we tell ourselves that our actions won’t really change anything.

And if we are honest, some of our resistance to empathy comes as well from our own prejudices that make it difficult for us to appreciate the humanity and uniqueness of other people’s personal stories.

Walk a mile in my shoes.

So how do we regain our ability to empathize?

It starts with the most basic tool: listening. Really listening. What is commonly called “active” or “empathetic” listening. That means that when you speak, I am fully focused on being present with you rather then caught in my own reaction or preparing my response. This is an exercise that I make every couple practice in the months before their wedding. I see some of you in the sanctuary tonight. You can vouch for this! Listen to your partner and then repeat back to them exactly what you believe you heard, without commentary or response. Check in with them: did I hear you correctly? Only once they confirm you heard them fully and correctly do you respond.

Couples are surprised how often they don’t hear each other correctly. And couples find this exercise terribly awkward at first, But those who persist find it becomes natural, a part of their everyday life and relationship. And do you know what? Studies show that active listening increases the chances of a marriage’s success. And it’s not just for our personal relationships. One recent study showed that when corporate management and unions used empathetic, active listening, the time it took to negotiate a contract was reduced by 50%. In his famous treatise I and Thou, Martin Buber taught that we can become fully human only when we have “genuine conversations” that try look at the world through the other person’s eyes and to comprehend their thoughts and feelings. In that book he described what that process was like for him. He wrote: “I imagine to myself what another man is at this very moment wishing, feeling, perceiving, thinking. . ..” He went on to write that the “inmost growth of the self is not accomplished, as people like to suppose today, in man’s relation to himself, but in the relation between one and the other, between men.” It’s only in that dialogue – in the listening – that we can discover each other.

A second tool in regaining empathy is to humanize those hidden individuals in our lives, those that we benefit from but we take for granted. Commentator Karen Armstrong suggests we try this exercise:

“When you get up in the morning, remember those who planted, picked and spun the cotton of your sheets and who collected, treated and exported the beans you grind for your morning coffee. You enjoy their product,” she says, “so you have a responsibility for them, especially if they were working in poor conditions. As you set off to work, reflect on the thousands of workers and engineers who maintain the roads, cars, railways, planes, trains and underground transport on which you rely. Continue this exercise throughout the day.”

A third tool to help us regain empathy is what one social philosopher calls “the character game.” When you see someone who you might treat as other, someone who is different than you, try instead to imagine them in a more human guise. When you see someone on the street who you think looks dangerous, looks different, makes you uncomfortable, or just seems worth your time and concern, try to imagine him playing hide and seek with his child or singing to her elderly mother to cheer her up. In this way you can give people a human face, break through our stereotyped views of them, and open us to new opportunities for connection and conversation.

Finally, we have to be willing to set down our worldview for a moment and put on someone else’s glasses. We must allow ourselves to see the world through their eyes, to experience what they experience, to feel what they feel, to know their truth, and to understand that their truth – whether we agree with it or not, whether we like it or not – exists in the world beside our truth, and that we have to support them in it.

If we want to regain our sense of connection to each other, if we want to heal as individuals and as a society, this is where it all begins: We must learn to walk a mile in each other’s shoes. To learn to humanize the other. To have genuine conversations in which we seek to see the world from their perspective. To understand and accept without judgement what someone else is feeling and be able to be with them in their pain. To let down our guard and allow ourselves to be vulnerable, to be changed by those around us. To break down the illusory barriers that we think divide us and see how much we share in common and how good it feels to be in one unity.

This is the meaning of the words that we sing so often that come from our sacred texts:

Hinei ma-tov u-mah na’im shevet achim gam yachad. “Behold, how good it is when we – brothers and sisters, the children of the One God – can dwell together in unity.

So this Yom Kippur, we know what we need to do. Sing it with me one last time:

Walk a mile in my shoes Walk a mile in my shoes Yeah, before you abuse, criticize and accuse Walk a mile in my shoes

May we all learn to walk a mile in each other’s shoes every day. Amen

#jews #jewish #judaism #torah #kol nidre #yom kippur #sermon #homiletics #preaching #spirituality #empathy #support #caring #listening #civility #dialogue #politics #elvis #love #dialog

[radreviews]

2017 SQUAD PICKS

Hello, it’s us. It’s been awhile, but we’re back with our favorite art, moments, and trends from 2017. I usually have a whole preamble to set the stage for our picks, but let’s just get into it:

RADHIKA

In-Theater Experiences Every year I have a few movies that remind me how great the movie theater experience can be. A couple of years ago it was Magic Mike XXL; this year it was Get Out and Spider-Man Homecoming. I saw both films in packed houses, with the audience reacting to every line delivery, cameo and plot twist as it happened. It was exhilarating, and I can’t imagine seeing the films any other way. It reminded me that sometimes film needs to be a collective experience—that peer reactions can be the very thing that makes a good movie great. The same thing can be said of live theater, an inherently shared experience. Humblebrag time… we finally saw Hamilton this year and it exceeded the hype and expectations. I also listened to the soundtrack a million times and memorized all of the words after seeing it so, yep, I’m one of those people now. Also! We saw Mean Girls: The Musical in its previews in DC and holy wow you’re all in for a treat. Lady Bird Forget what I said about collective experiences because I saw this incredible film by myself, crying quietly through the entire third act. There are always films whose stories don’t necessarily overlap with my experiences, but make me feel everything (last year’s was La La Land). This film has universal love from every critic with a beating heart and it’s one thousand percent deserved. Lady Bird was my favorite film of the year — a beautiful portrait of the confusion of adolescence, of familial frustration and of love. It was note-perfect. Despacito CALL ME BASIC but I love this song. I will not apologize for how happy it makes me, for how secretly sexy the lyrics are, for how directly my mood is impacted by those opening chords. Also, I prefer the Justin Bieber version don’t @ me. “Remember Me” from Coco

Let’s not talk about how much I cried during Pixar’s Coco (but if you must know, it was A LOT), let’s talk about the five different versions of its original song “Remember Me” that appear on the official soundtrack. There’s the three versions directly from the film (each BEAUTIFULLY sung by Benjamin Bratt, Gael Garcia Bernal, and Anthony Gonzalez), a Spanish version, and inexplicably a version by Miguel?!!??!? It’s a classic case of I didn’t know I needed it until now, but thank you for this gift.  CTRL - SZA Everything is all caps, and wow, what a debut. “The Weekend” spoke quiet sadness about being the ‘other woman,’ “Supermodel” delved deep into being unloved and retaliating, and everything before and after touched on the intricacies of relationships and heartbreak. It was personal and it was stunning. “Lemons” - blackish Eleven days into the new year, we already had one of the best episodes of the year. In a pointed middle finger to Trump, blackish became a mouthpiece for what all of us were feeling two months after the election—anger, confusion, and helplessness—and instead of harping on the negatives, it made lemonade. Traveling I was 2 steps away from going full “wanderlust”-Instagram-caption mode this year. I’ve always wanted to travel, but 2017 was the first year where I threw caution (and money) to the wind, and just…booked stuff. I went to Cuba, Philly and Nashville for the first time, explored San Francisco and Boston again with friends, and flew back to Michigan, Chicago, and Cleveland for various engagements and weddings. If ever there was a year where a few days of distraction were not just welcomed but needed, it was 2017. There’s only more exploring to be done in 2018. Pod Save America I think it’s safe to say we all feel more politically angry and engaged in this era of backwards politics. Twice a week, I relied on the educated discussion, hilarious banter, and informed opinions of former Obama staffers Jon Lovett, Jon Favreau and Tommy Vietor to fill me in on what I should be angry about that day. It’s a podcast that just feels necessary. Also, I now own a ‘Friend of the Pod’ t-shirt and I feel like I’m part of a cult, but it’s the coolest cult ever. Bojack Horseman

It’s common knowledge that I love art that makes me cry, but I never thought I’d cry while watching a cartoon. This show is equal parts acerbic, hilarious, and downright depressing (read: I love this show so much). Harping on the fragility of time, the fourth season of Bojack Horseman continued its upward trajectory and gave me one of my favorite quotes from and about television, probably ever. Bojack is one of the smartest, most thoughtful and well-written shows on this incredibly vast television landscape. We are so lucky to have it. The Emergence of Timothée Chalamet Relatively unheard of before 2017, Chalamet starred in two of the best films I saw this year — Lady Bird and Call Me By Your Name. Chalamet inhabited two completely different, complicated characters but made them both vulnerable, empathetic, and mesmerizing. He’s a star and even if the Academy doesn’t recognize him this year (which would be objectively incorrect), I’ll watch anything he’s in from here on out.

PROMA Trailer Hype

I have never experienced a theater crowd cheering for a freaking trailer before – titters of excitement for Harry Potter, at best – but once the Black Panther full trailer dropped there was only one logical response. We cheered for it before  Spider-Man: Homecoming, before Marshall, before Thor: Ragnarok, and I hope to cheer for it again before February 2018, which is finally close. Seeing Things in Theaters Multiple Times Since moving to New York, I’ve never seen a movie twice in theaters - first because of cost and then because of time. Honestly I probably haven’t done it since high school, but I used to love it, and this year I finally returned to that with The Big Sick and Spider-Man: Homecoming. Worth it. A First Time with an Oldie

I’ve loved Titanic since I first saw it in 2000, but of course I was too young to see it in theaters. It was re-released in 3D for a quick stretch in 2012, but I was in India at the time, so this year marked the first time I saw Titanic in theaters, that too in impressive 3D. I will never tire of watching old favorites in packed theaters full of people who love the film as much as I do and hum along with the music or clap for big moments. The Year TV Got Angry In a year when we were all perpetually existential or angry, it was cathartic to see TV mirror that state. I reveled in the female rage of The Handmaid’s Tale, the intersectional activism of Dear White People, She’s Gotta Have It, and the straight-up middle finger that was Difficult People. Having an AppleTV is almost as gratifying as screaming into the void! Facemasks A pack of facemasks literally arrived on my and Radhika’s doorstep at a point in 2016 when we didn’t realize we needed them. Since then, I’ve tried to always have some sheet masks around and let myself splurge on a charcoal mask that I’ve done almost every weekend without fail since September. Put on a mask, start an episode, remove  and rinse. Treat yo self. Mean Girls: The Musical Seconding Rads on this. I was lucky enough to catch Mean Girls in the workshop stage before it left New York for a summer hiatus and then previews – even in that early stage it was fantastic. It’s exciting to have been with a piece of art through all these iterations (not even including the movie and its decade of cult-status), and I can’t wait to see it blow up next year. Existential Twitter Twitter was always at its most funny and weird during ungodly night-time hours; The night is darkest before the dawn and now it’s like Night Twitter 24/7. From politics to entertainment, we are at least winning at hilarity on social media. But seriously, delete his account. The Return of MoviePass This squad has been preaching the gospel of MoviePass since like, 2014, and I’ll admit I faltered in the middle there when it hit $50/month (I took the 3/$30 plan instead). But now it’s $9.99/month and people have heard of it and don’t make that blank face when I talk about it and wow guys we are saving so much on movies I feel so alive!!! People still regularly ask me if it’s legit/worth it/a scam, but I am happy to answer them and spread this joy. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Listen, some shows are just pure joy and this is the second Amazon show to give me this jarringly unfamiliar sunny feeling in my heart when I watch (shootout to you, Mozart in the Jungle). This show is like eating ice cream covered in candy (but with some sweet wine) and the best part it gets me inspired to create. Oh, Hello Dittoing Rads again because our first theatre experience of the year was one of the best of my whole life. I laughed so fucking hard at Oh, Hello — I’ve never seen a piece of comedy so meticulously crafted, down to every word of every joke, and you could hear the payoff in the laughs, which hardly ever stopped.

ARJUN

“I’m not a body/the body is but a shell.” Like so many of us, I spent a scary amount of time this year being resentful and confused about a million different things happening in my hometown, state, and country – things outside of my own body, bigger than myself.  It is then maybe my (our?) subconscious trying to tell me something else in the shared themes of the music I was coming back to the most.  While I would say I was consumed by questions of the foundation our entire world rests on, my iTunes would counter that my existential questions this year were actually pointed inward, contemplating over what constitutes a relationship in 2017. “Is it warm enough for you inside me?” With the full acknowledgement that there was a LOT of great music from other artists, when I look back on what set music in 2017 apart from other years, I think I’ll most remember albums like SZA’s ctrl, Moses Sumney’s Aromanticism, and Charli XCX’s Pop 2.  These three have some pretty big differences (namely, how they literally sound), but I would argue that they are all contributors to the same internal dialogue that a single 20-something year old living in New York was having, if not always aware he was having it.  They ask questions about all forms of love and affection, including (but not limited to): What does it mean to love? What does that even look like in 2017? Is it co-dependent? Is it more than an initial attraction? Does it give us our worth? Is it harmful to tie our worth to it? How stupid are we for putting ourselves through it? If the stupidity makes us happy, is it actually stupid? How do we handle heartbreak? Do we take on an arrogant braggadocio? Do we show the utter lack of confidence hiding under that? And hey, what role does sex play in all this? “I’m not tryina go to bed with you/I just wanna make out in your car.” Admittedly, some of these aren’t the most original questions of all time.  It’s the way these artists answered (or tried to answer) them that felt special to this point in time.  When SZA says, “Lately you’ve been feeling so good/I forget my future/never pull out,” there isn’t even a question if they’re having sex, and no narrative build-up of her career; they are conditional to even be at the point in time being confronted.  For the narrator, the to-pull-out-or-not debate is less a sign of carelessness and more one of carnal satisfaction (though she points out it's pretty careless too).  In a borderline companion piece, Charli XCX adds on, “I just wanna spend the night/Fucking in your bed tonight/Watch a little TV/I love it when you need me.”  Sex and what comes after are given equal weight in all of the toiling, tossing, and turning. “Ooh no she didn’t/Ooh yes, I did.”

No doubt, these songs have selfishness and over-dramatization at work.  But elsewhere, there’s a clearly embedded sense of self-awareness, too.  On “Indulge Me,” Moses Sumney’s verse starts and ends with a bit of a call and response when he sings, “All of my old lovers have found others…All of my old others have found lovers.”  There’s meant to be some sadness here, but the wordplay suggests a certain irony; he’s far from shocked.  Similarly, on “Out of My Head,” Charli XCX, Tove Lo, and ALMA begin singing, “You got me doing all this stupid shit/you fuck me up like this,” before finishing with, “Secretly I’m kinda into it, though.”  It’s as if the narrator is fully aware that she’s enveloping you in her own problems and she’s totally cool with that – she’s even giving you a wink while doing it.  The listener is simultaneously watching a card trick and listening to the magician explain exactly what he/she is doing each step of the way. “I blame it on your love/every time I fuck it up.” All of that is to say nothing of the music.  Throughout, we are sent on a journey of eclectic sounds & compositions, ranging from no-fucks-given aggression to dancefloor escapism to soothing near-lullabies.  The fully-formed picture is ultimately what made these works feel alive in the present.  They’re messy, they’re self-important, they’re dramatic, they’re self-deprecating.  They’re 2017.

ADITYA

Master of None, season 2 It’s exciting to watch talented people swing for the fences. Master of None, Aziz’s love letter to New York, millennial aimlessness, Italian cinema, food, and about 45 other things, is a start-to-finish shot at greatness. It’s filled with terrific performances, and breathtaking shots. It also radiates intelligence in its observations; Dev might be aimless but Aziz has a point of view.

In a toxic 2017, the show’s generous nature stands out. In ‘New York, I Love You,’ Dev is completely absent; the exhilarating episode instead elevates viewpoints that are often reduce to stock clichés – the doorman, the driver, etc. In ‘Thanksgiving,’ Dev plays a clear supporting role as Lena Waithe’s Denise accepts her sexuality and hopes for her family to do the same. In episode after episode, Master of None pursues interesting stories, whether they’re with Dev or Arnold or Denise or Francesca or a taxi driver. The show insists that it’s worth caring about other people, and the spirit of empathy and curiosity is refreshing.  The show is unabashedly cinematic in its aesthetic. The first episode is a surprisingly detailed (if low stakes) homage to Bicycle Thieves, presented in black & white with dialogue entirely in Italian. Later references include L’Avventura and La Dolce Vita. Despite these influences, Master of None makes excellent use of the episodic nature of TV, with installments devoted to big issues, like the theme episodes of old. ‘First Date’ uses an inventive structure to highlight the bleak fun of app-driven dating. ‘Religion’ tackles..religion. ‘Door #3′ is a portrait of career indecision. Sprinkled throughout are observations of fame and celebrity, and Aziz’s (and Dev’s) status as a minority provides a unique observational lens. Let me point out that the season is also fun. It doesn’t matter how many hours of Fellini Aziz has watched; the moment he sings about eating food, it’s clear that Tom Haverford is irrepressible. The show is consistently funny, both sharp and silly (I’ll laugh at any framing of the tiny Dev next to his immense buddy Arnold). Dev’s relationship with Francesca is, for me, the best rom-com of the past few years. It’s bracing to watch funny, charming people fall in love, and there’s a thrilling prolonged scene in ‘Dinner Party’ - where Dev is sitting in an Uber processing the fact that he is desperately in love – that ranks among the best of the year.  Mask Off + I’m the One + Red Bone I’ve been told that I’m bad at “good” music. Because of the pretentious circles within which I reside, I’m often faking musical expertise. ‘You know who’s great?’  I’ll say. ‘Ess Zee Ayy. Yeah, no, SZA, that’s what I meant. They’re good.’ But when no one was looking over my shoulder, it was these three songs all day all year. That’s a liability! Get Out & Lady Bird Two brilliant debuts. Get Out is a biting satire/comedy/polemic built on a horror movie chassis. From the creepiness of the “No, no, no, no…” scene to the “haha…wait a minute” guilty recognition of the liberal family to the shoulder-slumping devastation of the keys scene, the film takes no false steps. Lady Bird is great all the way through, led by Saoirse’s fiery performance and a sparkling, hilarious script. Greta Gerwig’s love and understanding for the characters on screen shines through.  NYT’s “Trump’s Daily Life” Pieces The NYTimes has grown essential in the Trump era. Sure, sometimes they Disney-ify Nazis, or allow David Brooks to moan about the difficulties of getting a sandwich with a poor person. But have you seen the WSJ editorials, or the ever-multiplying panels of “experts” on CNN? I’ll take the Gray Lady. While there’s plenty to appreciate, I want to call out the Sunday night articles, usually by Maggie Haberman and 300 unnamed sources, that offer hilarious insight into Trump’s daily life. I can’t get enough of these. 8-12 Diet Cokes? 14 hours of TV? Tries to impress John Kelly by doing a push-up? Sexts himself from Melania’s phone? Tell me more. We laugh so as not to cry.  I Am Not Your Negro

The startlingly powerful documentary relies exclusively on Baldwin’s own words, culled from various letters and writings, and read by Samuel L. Jackson. Even if you’ve read Baldwin, to sit in the theater and drown in his unparalleled eloquence is a shattering experience. The director, Raoul Peck, works with Baldwin to underline the film’s relevance to present day. Images of police brutality in the 1960s fade into images from Ferguson; Baldwin’s words close the gap in time. Another standout section involving a clip of Baldwin explaining his “fixation” on racial issues onThe Dick Cavett Show- a Tonight Show forerunner - is a sharp rebuke to the anti-intellectualism that is currently pervasive.  I was hanging on to Baldwin’s words, amazed at their relevance in the world I would walk into when the credits rolled. I can’t recommend this highly enough.  Revisiting the Godfather A back-to-back screening of The Godfather Parts I & II was a lovely experience. I was particularly moved by the father and son seated behind me. Most of us learn to appreciate the Corleones through our fathers, forcing ourselves to stay awake the first time we watch it because our infallible dads insisted it was brilliant. The pair behind me was all too familiar. The father patiently entertained his son’s incessant questioning (who’s that again? Wait, why did they kill Luca? Can we get more popcorn?), leapt to cover his son’s eyes during the topless scene, and nudged his son excitedly during the Baptism. The kid is now mixed-up in the family business for life. Twitter I love Twitter. I love retweeting things I agree with and I also love retweeting things I disagree with with a “get a load of this guy”-type comment. I love jumping into the fray and tweeting something like “call your senator!” and then patting myself on the back. I love seeing what other people I follow like, and seeing that they like things that are very similar to what I like, further affirming the idea that everyone is on my side. I love political twitter. I love sports twitter. I love movie twitter. I love reading the first sentence of an article and immediately knowing that I want to tweet it out. I love twitter. Protests For when Twitter isn’t enough. I was dreading Trump’s inauguration day, fully anticipating tears when the Obamas finally helicoptered away to a much deserved peace. When the moment came, and Trump was sworn in, it was…bearable. I knew that in less than 24 hours, I would get to witness thousands of women marching in defiant response. The Women’s March had an incredible energy that I assumed was rare. But it was replicated repeatedly - at the airports after the attempted Muslim ban, outside the courthouse where the ACLU challenged the administration, throughout the city after the DACA decision, etc., etc.  I’m a longtime petition signer, but I’m a novice protestor. I’m not great at chanting and I’m bad at estimating how big to make letters. A lot of my signs looked like I’M WITH her. But with the Trump administration determined to reduce the idea of America, protests were catharsis. They were a messy, vital declaration to the administration that they would be met with a response. They’ve recharged and inspired and reassured, and they’re what I’ll remember most about 2017.

#best of #2017 #arts #movies #film #tv #music #sza #master of none #blackish #titanic #twitter

[mauriciowan-blog]

Don't get caught at the crossroads at night. Do go there to hitch a ride. Don't go there to pick guitar. Even the Anishinaabe knew, from Mississippi to the Yazoo, you ain't got no business at the crossroads. Ain’t no good deals in this sundown town, every brother and his mother frown, but you sure as hell don't get caught with something to sell at the crossroads at night.

Elmore is at the crossroads.

It’s a bug eaten, fetid night, smelling of rain and rot and the squalor of mud. It chirps and croaks and echos with the hambone rhythm of skeeter killing. It ain’t his first choice, or his last choice, or any choice at all. Elmore had no choice but the crossroads, so there he sits long into the night that swallowed him, black and whole.

He knew the hoodoo of the place. The bandit dead and suicides interred beneath its furrows. The vain hope that they would not rise again, vengeful. A place without peace or freedom. Ghoulish rules for crossing--a hopscotch east-west, crossed heart north-south. Every child knew it, knew the peril of heedlessness, knew there was nothing worse than the junction in the dark midnight.

Elmore knows too. His granddaddy’s pocket watch was open in his hand. Every few moments, he strikes a match so he can read it. Little boy past the XI, big boy creeping up the left side. He means for the matches to spark every ten minutes, so as he can save some for later, but he ain't got the patience for it.

He sits on his haunches, the guitar box pressing into his back, a borrowed shirt soaked through with the hot press of the Delta in August. When he ain't striking matches, he finger draws circles in the dirt, counts up and backwards from ten, hopes that he can wait more than a full minute before striking the next one.

In the sulfur light of a dying match head, the big boy had crept past IX. It flickers and dances in the panting breaths of Elmore's anticipation before wisping into invisible death. Burnt wood smell. He'd begged off ten dollars from everyone he knew, everyone brave enough to talk to him, but hardly got two bits. Wasn't near enough to leave town, let alone on the Greyhound. He shivers in spite himself.

When he ain’t scared or burning fingertips, Elmore composes lyrics. Twang bang, he'd had a bad day. Something something, no place to stay. The man said something something, it ain't no lie. What he wouldn't give for that out of town ride.

He plots chords with fevered precision. Some of the best inspiration he'd done have in his whole life. Even finds himself time to wax poetical about an old lady he never had. A blues lady.

Lord knows he has the lady blues. Looked at one the wrong way, now he feared the noose.

X the watch says. The fat hand was closing in on its apex. Any time now. He shifts his feet, cracking the old patent leather dogs he took off his cousin. Ain't had time to ask. Elmore hopes for forgiveness. The watch ticks. He thinks about praying, slaps the back of his neck, itches all over. The nightjars sing requiems and threats.

Time moves slower here, Elmore thinks. He didn't know about elsewhere, but he know enough about here to know that time don’t work right. Don’t work in a brother's favor. Time had marched on, they said at the rally.

"They must not have gotten the memo here," the keynote speaker declared, "Because we have been free for some time now."

They all clapped. Elmore had clapped. It was aspirational, affirmational. Wish, desire, the projection of promise and pure fantasy fulfillment. He'd wanted to believe it.

He spends his last match seeing the minute off past the XI. It’s close enough. He swings his guitar into his lap, stands, starts tuning it. It twangs under the duress of a tin slide. Anyone might hear it. The birds and bugs and bullfrogs go quiet.

"Ain't no sunshine where I gone. The sun has set long way down. Chased out worse than a hell hound. Gots to get me out of this town."

Elmore's voice is deep and proud and it thrums through the weft and weal of the dense fabric of night. The guitar squeals in pleasure as he strums, the crickets and whippoorwills and toads sing backup.

"Saw me a woman, ain't she neat, now the hangman’s snatching my feet."

Elmore thinks on kings like Johnson and Lockwood and Willie Brown, dreaming of places they'd never dare wanted to be.

"Oh the preacherman he says I'm free, but the big man won't let me be, steal the music of my heart, says I best be gone by dark."

The dark ain’t just dark no more. Elmore can see shadows moving. Willows bowing, reed grass shaking, the gators and crocks doing their wiggle and roll. Despite the clear skies above, a storm gale takes the night, shakes the trees like the rattle of a soup spoon up a washboard. It smells of old eggs.

"Oh Moses let me be free, don't let these devils come for me, my daddy's done seen enough already, don't need the lash of ole Black Betty."

At the edge of his vision, Elmore can see him. Shirtless, shoeless, tattered overalls. Old Scratch, listening, nodding his head along. Not all ears are deaf to his prayers.

"Oh they comin' on nightmare steeds, gonna do their dirty deeds, I ain't want it go this way, but I gots the blues today."

'Twas like Elmore opened a fissure in the earth, scooped his way through criminals and the forsaken and dug deep into his very soul. The heat is oppressive. The heat is liberating. He melts into a new sense of himself as his fingers plucked bloody their calloused tips.

"The preacherman tell me to pray, but ain't no angels coming today. Ain't left me nothing to sing, nothing but this soul I bring."

Elmore riffs and rages. He sings clear into the night. More than just cicadas and crickets sing with him. There’s a chorus of something else, older and with multitudes. Something legion in its depths. Old Scratch moves forward. Eyes like fire. Eyes that burn like truth where no hope lies.

"Oh they ain't opening gates for me, just gonna let me swing in the tree, I ain't done nothing wrong, ain't got nothing but this song."

He steps forward into the center of the crosswalk. Elmore can swear there was a million of him. A million million of him and a million more, an audience bigger than even been seen, an audience older than time. One that would last an eternity, so long as his pain is real. He knows just staying here is like saying yes. He knows he hadn't even ask a favor, or been given an option. He'd just been taken in, by bad luck and worse friends.

"So it comes to this, they gonna take my bliss, and devil break me all my bones if the devil don't take me home."

Old Scratch is near him now. Breathing close. There is a stillness in the hot breath. He feels it pass through him like a fever dream. When it breaks, he’s in cold sweat. The wind died down. The birds went to sleep. The frogs ate the bugs and dug into the mud. A coal smell hangs in the air.

Two lights appear in the distance. Elmore keeps playing the same chords, but he ain't singing now. He hears the sputtering of an engine and the clopping of horses marching down the road. They'd done looked all over town, rousted all the negroes, and know him gone. They also know he ain’t got far. They’re a coming. Swing low, sweet chariot, he wants to sing. Carry me home. But the band of white angels shining bright in the hooded darkness--coming after him--have nothing but clubs and rope and fire. And the only thing swinging was gonna be he.

"Oh my old lady she weeps for me, she weeps just like a willow tree, hear me devil now I might cry, curse the men who gon’ cause me die."

Elmore had grown up learning the chorus of angels. He'd heard about their choirs, the way they could sing happy the live long day. Oh how he wanted to sing, when the saints go marching in. But he'd had plenty of song all his life, and it wasn't praise. It was pain. It was suffering. It was a bad end.

He can’t help that now. Heaven willing, well, at least the other side willing, he can still sing. Sing down below like an earthquake that swallows men whole. They'd put a song in his heart, and it wouldn't end with his last breath. Old Scratch had seen to that.

They ain’t far off now. It’s past time to pray. There’s no peace to be had. But if this was freedom, hell can’t be worse.

#writing #am writing #fiction #story #short story #short fiction #creative writing

[raichoose-moved]

Stealing your food! Stealing your food! World’s greatest crow is stealing your food!

#and all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear ( jonathan crane ) #clap along if you know what happiness is to you ( moses ) #and i say welcome to the show ( ic ) #like a bat out of hell ( v ; dc comics )

[raichoose-moved]

he sees another BIRD

#clap along if you know what happiness is to you ( moses ) #and all the fears you hold so dear will turn to whisper in your ear ( jonathan crane ) #and i say welcome to the show ( ic ) #i heard it through the grapevine ( dash commentary ) #but in rome do as the romans do ( v ; fandomless ) #you take the skyway ( v ; modern )